#(I was literally jUST TALKING ABT THIS!!!!!)

[scarameownya]

tags ran out so im continuing it here JAJSJSDJJD

on a second thought i should have tagged this as nsfw before the tags ran out 💀

#GRANDMA LOST HER SON AND DAUGHTER IN LAW... STOP IT STOP I DONT WANNA GET EMOTIONAL JAIL JAIL FOR YOU

#"grandma filled the roles so well even if his heart bled, not too much blood spilled out" thats its im stealing your brain this is actually insane writing and wording IM IN LOVE

#NO NO NOT HIM REGRETTING NOT BEING TO HELP HER AS A CHILD NOBONONOON

#AND HER DEATH HELLO ?!?!?! ok and ik u didnt intended for it to be but id like to think him brushing off people's remarks

#are somewhat in a way him grieving cause hes knows all of it and in a way because he knows his child self could not reciprocate all of it

#DO NOT TORTURE ME MORE WITH HIM READING HIS PARENTS LETTER AND FUCKING CRYING RIV I WILL KILL YOU HELLO IM ?!?@?@?@?#?@#*×*

#ALSO AUAGAHAHAHA I LOVE THEIR BANTER SO MUCH OMFGGGGGGGG THE FACT THAT HE HAS SOMEONE TO SHARE AND CALL A HOME WITH AUGAHSHSHD

#als his thought process during the smut scene... :[[ poor lil brain boy.. he's literally so happy at how you are so perfect for him

#and just how whole you made him feel... wahhh :"[[[[ riv should get her device taken away signing a petition rn //lh

#THE LETTER AT THE END ?!?!?! OMFG HAITHAM YOU CHEESY ASS //POS ALL POS HES JUST SO ?!?!?! SO ?!?@@??!

#seeing haitham this gentle is insane omfg riv i love love LOVE your version of him so much-- lowkey got me blushing at it like-- STOP

#ALL IN ALL HELLO ?!?!?! THIS IS INCREDIBLE IM LITERALLY SO HOOKED IN EVERY WORDS AND THEYRE ALL SO WELL WRITTEN

#eating your brain i need that nutrients PLS I JUST ?!?!?! I JUST LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMFG UAHSUAHDHSDHDHFHDH

#what if i die for just liking this too much-- IM SORRY BUT JUST ?!?!? EVERYTHING FLOW SO SMOOTHLY AND AND ITS SO NATURAL AND I JUST LOVE SEEING IT PLAYED OUT FROM START TO FINISH

#whens the wedding this should be at 28 ill be waiting //lh

like a lotus in spring, you are mine to bloom — ft. alhaitham

synopsis: at twenty one, you’re just a girl he meets as he trains for the role of scribe. at twenty four, you’ve become everything he loves in this world. after three years of knowing you and nearly two and a half decades of life, alhaitham finally realizes why his father left letters for his mother instead of just saying the words outloud

❤︎ word count: 7.7k words — we find ourselves here in the same old situation again, i see LOL pls give it a chance though!! plssss

❤︎ before you read: female reader ; 18+ content — not suitable for minors ; not proof read ; strangers to friends to lovers ; mutual pining but not at the same time for a bit (he falls first <3) ; jealous alhaitham ; hinted drunk sex ; getting together + love confessions ; alhaitham character story spoilers + references to his grandmother and parents ; semi-clothed unprotected sex ; no prep ; some nipple play ; creampie ; the cringiest love letter at the end LOL

❤︎ comments: guys every time i write alhaitham it’s so corny and cheesy but . he is my fav genshin guy of all time i deserve to be allowed this okay

TWENTY ONE. 

You’re still a student when you first meet Alhaitham. (Not a student for much longer, but a student all the same. With a little luck on your side and good graces from your darshan’s sage on your thesis, you’re expected to graduate in just a few short months.)

You don’t have the best first meet. In fact, your impression of Alhaitham starts off entirely on the wrong foot. 

He’s newly graduated, just freshly rewarded a degree for his (impressive) efforts, and is now well on his way to training for the role of scribe—you heard he was offered far more prestigious roles, but for some reason, a genius like him settled for a role like that. You try not to judge. People have their passions, after all, and if that’s what he wants to do, well…who are you to make comments? (But amongst a school that only houses the brilliant, Alhaitham is, very undoubtedly, a standout. It’s hard to stand out in a school filled with only the best minds, but he manages to do so with ease. Sometimes, you’re almost jealous. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t aim a little higher than he does.)

He trains in the house of Daena. His first order of training is to fact-check ordinance drafts using books so he can better get the hang of drafting them himself in the future. You’re also in the House of Daena to find the last book for your thesis—after weeks of begging, you’re finally granted access to the restricted section to find it. 

And you do. Except your palm meets warm skin instead of the cold leather cover of a book. You pause, glancing up as sharp, teal eyes meet your gaze, staring at you expectantly as if you should be the one letting go. But you need this book. It’s the final research element to finish your thesis, and you’d like to be done with it. End of story. No matter how devastatingly handsome the man (because he is handsome, you’ll admit at least that much), you will not be handing over the last, final key to your academic freedom.

“Um, excuse me,” you say politely, “I was kind of reaching for that.”

“As was I,” he says, staring at you with a bored, almost uncaring expression. Your eyes narrow. “Now, if you’d please kindly take your hand off of mine.”

“I believe it should be you taking your hand off of mine,” you correct, huffing as you add stubbornly, “I reached for it first.”

He blinks at you, bland and a little irritated, as he points out, “Your hand is on top of mine, which means I reached the book first.”

Well.

Maybe if you were feeling particularly patient, you’d be inclined to admit that, yes, he does have a point. But stubbornness, combined with pure exhaustion, has you at your wit's end, and if you have to play the role of a difficult student, then so be it. You’re pretty sure you need it more, and you’re probably a much speedier reader anyway. You’ll have it done and returned in no time.

This guy, on the other hand…he doesn’t look too bright. You’re not willing to take your chances and let him walk off with a book that you might never see again.

“I started reaching for it first,” you scowl, “you just sped up your hand once you saw me. I should get it.”

“Unlikely,” he scoffs, “I didn’t even see you. Although,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, making you feel uncomfortably seen under his judging gaze, “I suppose you were a bit easy to miss.”

You gape at him. “Just what does that mean?”

“It means,” he smirks, taking the opportunity to grab the book as you stand in shock, “that I got here first.”

“Hey!” You glare at him, seeing red for a moment. What a perfectly good waste of a perfectly handsome face—and such an awful attitude coupled with his ridiculously smug grin couldn’t make for a worse combination. But, before you can even say anything, the book is being pressed back into your hands.

“You seem like you want it more than I do, though,” he hums, “I suppose I can let you have it. It’s a bit outdated for this ordinance, anyway.” With that, he saunters off. You push down the soft flutter in your heart for a moment and force yourself to hope you’ll never see him again. (Faintly, you hope your wishes don’t come true—but you refuse to admit it to yourself.)

Unfortunately (and fortunately at the same time) for you, you do see him again. Many, many times, in fact. When he works in the House of Daena as often as he does, and you like to spend all your free time there to study if you can, you’re both bound to run into each other often. Very often. 

And sometimes, it’s quite literally running into him. 

“Oof,” you hiss, staggering backward and hitting your head against the bookshelf behind you as you bump into a sturdy figure. You drop the books in your hand, blinking before reaching to rub your read as you start to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t see you—oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” he says, looking mildly entertained. Alhaitham is everywhere. Everywhere. You can’t escape him if you try, and now, you can’t even avoid him in your own personal space. “Although, I think I should be the one apologizing this time. I was too busy reading to pay attention. This section is usually empty at this time.”

“How often are you in here to know what section is empty at what time?” You raise a brow. 

“Too often to be considered good for my well-being,” he says dryly, sighing in misery. You crack a smile at that. Oddly enough, so does he—you don’t think you’ve ever heard someone say they’ve seen Alhaitham smile. It must be a rare sight that only you, and perhaps a very few others, can say they’ve witnessed. “I was just about to take a break to buy a coffee—I’ll bring one back for you, too, to make up for the cranial damage I’ve supplied.”

“A most wonderful idea,” you perk up instantly, “I love when I get to drain the wallet of a man.”

He gives you an amused look at that. And somehow, bringing you a coffee along with his own during his breaks is a habit that seems to stick for a long, long while after that. 

────────────────────────

TWENTY TWO.

Alhaitham’s feelings are hurt. Not a lot of words tend to do that—he’s been blessed with thick skin and an unbothered attitude to a fault, sometimes. But something about today, for some odd reason, hurts his feelings. 

Your words to the waiter who took your order keep ringing in his head. 

Oh goodness, no, we are definitely not dating!

Most people mistake you and Alhaitham for a pair of lovers rather than a pair of friends. It’s just the way things go when a man and a woman are seen together for extended periods of time over and over. It doesn’t help that Alhaitham doesn’t really have any friends. He had one before you, but…well, things are complicated now. Far too complicated to think about it more than necessary. He has you, and that’s enough. But the matter still stands that most people tend to assume that something blossoms between the two of you that isn’t just friendly. 

He was starting to think it was true himself, too. He knows it’s true from his end, at least. But you say those words with such a sure, definitive tone that it almost sounds like you’re offended by the notion of being seen as his girlfriend. And sure, he would be disappointed—he’s no liar—if you didn’t feel romantically for him, but he’d understand. It’s not something you can help. But you brush off the idea like it’s an anomaly of sorts in the universe for someone like you and someone like Alhaitham to be a couple. It hurts his feelings. More than it should. 

(He knows deep down, in the depths of his heart, that you don’t mean it that way. You never would. But irrationality is but one of many feelings that bloom when it comes to romance.)

Alhaitham knows from a young age he’s different than most kids his age. This fact doesn’t change as he gets older. He’s brighter than most of his peers—which is certainly saying something because Sumeru is a nation filled with enough sharp minds, it’s as though brilliance were the average trait. People don’t typically like Alhaitham (which is fine by him, he doesn’t like most of them, either. They mostly don’t meet his standards). The kids don’t play with him in the parks that Grandmother would leave him at while she shopped around at the market, and they don’t sit with him on his one and only day at the Akademiya when he is but an elementary scholar. It never bothered him. He preferred reading under the trees and self-learning at home, anyway. When he’s older and enrolled in the Akademiya full-time, they don’t prefer to partner with him for projects for any other reason than simply being guaranteed a good grade, and they don’t spare him a glance when they all converse in groups outside of class. He never cared for freeloaders, anyway—he only trusts himself for projects, and he is at the Akademiya to learn, not make friends. 

It’s not until he meets Kaveh does he consider the idea that friendships are meaningful enough to spare some effort into. But the end result of that only solidifies that he is best when in solitude. 

But then he meets you. Some part of Alhaitham knows very early on that you would never be just a friend to him. If it was friendship that he craved, he would have looked for it elsewhere before running into you. Something about you from the very beginning makes him yearn for things much deeper than that. Things that remind him of his parents. 

Friendship is fleeting. People at the Akademiya go their separate ways and meet new people. They fall out and have arguments. They grow up and grow apart and become different. But love blooms like the Kalpalata lotuses on a vine, timeless as time itself. It starts and never ends, one root stemming into more and more vines until they never stop growing.

Alhaitham has fallen in love with you. Logic tells him it’s only a recent development, but his heart has known this outcome would be brought about for a long, long time. And, in all truthfulness, your words have hurt his feelings. 

And yet, he still loves you through it. He thinks that even if you crushed his feelings with a cold, indifferent smile, he would still love you through it. 

A hand waves in front of his face, pulling him from his thoughts as you take a sip from your coffee. Puspa Cafe is not as busy at this hour, most people are in the middle of a work day, but Alhaitham is allowed to pick his lunch hour, and yours happens to be earlier than most.

“Sorry, I just have to ask—are…are you upset?” you ask gently, making him pause. 

Yes.

“No,” he says simply, “why would I be?”

“You seem upset.”

“I’m not.”

“You were fine up until…I don’t know, a few minutes ago. Is something on your mind?”

You know him so well, he thinks. How could you not see how perfect the two of you are together?

“I’m simply concerned about your sugar intake is all,” he eyes the cold, iced drink in your hands with more syrups than he deems necessary. You always have a penchant for choosing the sweetest drink off the menu, and Alhaitham will never understand how your teeth don’t rot.

“Well, that’s very funny,” you roll your eyes, “because I was just thinking about how low on vitamin D you must be—do you ever leave your study to see the sun?”

He spares you a soft chuckle at that, shaking his head before taking a sip of his own coffee—hot and black and with two spoons of sugar. Simple, like how he prefers. You make a face at his drink as he sets it down. 

“Have you ever thought about what you look for in a partner?” he asks suddenly, making you blink in shock for a moment. He flinches at his own forwardness just a tad. 

“Umm, I suppose a little here and there…why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he shrugs, “just curious what your type was, that’s all. You’re painfully single, so I figured your taste was rather distinct.”

“Rude,” you scoff, rolling your eyes enough that he thinks it’s safe to assume you’re not suspicious. “Are you here just to poke fun at my choices today?”

Alhaitham should not be asking you this. Not when the answer so clearly is going to hurt his already very bruised feelings. Of course, your type won’t be him. And, of course, he is going to mourn your answer the second you give it, which is his own fault considering he’s the one who asked. (He has to wonder, for a moment, if this constitutes as an undiscovered hidden kink of his and whether or not he really just gets off on some unnecessary pain. Why else would he willingly subject himself to this?)

But, he’s caught off guard when you shrug and simply say, “I suppose someone who’s intelligent. I’d appreciate some good discussions. And…and maybe someone who’s kind, y’know? I would be rather sad if they were mean,” you pretend to sniffle dramatically.

“That’s…that’s it?” He tilts his head in equal parts shock and equal parts confusion. 

“What did you expect me to look for in a partner?” You snort, “A three-story mansion? A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on?” 

“Well, no,” he rolls his eyes, “Maybe something a bit less generic to narrow down your pool, I suppose, but if that’s your bar, so be it. There are far too many men who are intelligent and kind, you know.”

“Yes, but none of them show me any signs of interest,” you pout, “I must be undesirable or something.”

I desire you, he wants to say. He can’t quite find the courage to get the words out, though—and as if the universe has it completely out for him, the same waiter from earlier who is responsible for asking you the question that kills Alhaitham’s mood for the day comes back with the bill. And something else, too. 

Something that kills his mood for the week. 

His jaw clenches a tad when you flush at the note scribbled on a napkin for you, eyeing your flustered reaction while you read over the words: I get off at eight if you’d like to find me. You stare for a moment before you murmur, “Well, look at that. A sign of interest—it must be the Dendro Archon’s divine power.”

“The Divine have no say over who you fall for,” he insists.

“You don’t know that,” you hum thoughtfully, “The God of Wisdom knows her people better than anyone else, you know. I’d like to think she knows when love is bound for two people.”

You fold the napkin carefully and keep it in your pocket, and Alhaitham fishes out his mora pouch with stiff fingers. He leaves a very shoddy tip on the table before he exits after you. 

────────────────────────

TWENTY THREE.

You wake up in his bed. 

It’s a foggy memory, but you know you fucked Alhaitham after more sips of wine than you can count and one flirty comment too many. It happened in a blur last night, and you can’t say you’re surprised that it finally happened at all. Alhaitham is a man just like any other, and mingling pleasure with friendship is a normal thing to do. Falling under him on his mattress is not something you never had daydreams of—but the truth of the matter is that your daydreams don’t just stop with the bed.

They end with a toothbrush beside his in the bathroom. A mug next to his in the kitchen. Your shoes kicked off along with his at the entrance of a home. Your laughter and his bouncing off of the walls. A ring, maybe. One on your hand and one on his. 

In your imagination, it starts with pleasure, but it ends with love.

Falling in love with Alhaitham is a peaceful ordeal. He’s dependable and inherently kind. Strong and impressively capable. Intelligent and objectively handsome. You’d bring him home to your mother and father, and they’d thank Lord Kusanali for smiling down upon their humble little family and their darling little daughter by sending such a divine man your way. 

You don’t think you can pinpoint when exactly it is you started to love this boy, but you know loving him became as simple as breathing. You never thought about it. Never learned to do it. Never questioned it, even. You inhale the scent of his spicy, woody cologne and exhale the warm breath of your affections stored in your lungs. He lives somewhere nestled so deep in your ribcage that you think you’d have to crack each of them one after the other before you could pry him out.

You love Alhaitham. You think you know everything there is to know about loving him. You think you’d do it right—better than anyone else. 

He only drinks his coffee when it’s piping hot, and his wine can never be one degree less than iced. He has dry hands, but he hates the feeling of lotion. He doesn’t like raw onions but he doesn’t mind them cooked. When the sun is in his eyes, he’s in a foul mood, but he enjoys napping under the warm rays, much like a cat. He laughs surprisingly boyishly from his belly if you manage to deliver a dry yet clever enough joke, and he clears his throat and gets a bit shy once he’s realized he’s let it out. He twirls his pen in his hand when he’s bored, and he only uses the kind with gel ink because they write smoother. 

You love Alhaitham. For you, it’s always been him. 

When you wake up to his bare, warm body next to yours, breathing peacefully with an arm thrown over your waist, you can’t help but selfishly wish he’d stay asleep all day. Just for a day. Just for the amount of time you get in between the sun’s departure and the moon’s arrival. Just so you can watch him exist in this moment where it’s you, him, and the liminal space between friends and lovers. Just so you can admire how beautiful he is without worrying about his eyes opening and the inevitable conversation of what you’re both doing is brought up. 

People (like Kaveh, or Dehya, or Tighnari, or…anyone) tend to insist that Alhaitham loves you. It’s obvious, they say, just as obvious as your love for him. You never believe it. It’s not because he’s bad at love or because you’re bad for him. You think he’d make a good lover—contrary to popular belief, you don’t think Alhaitham is uninterested in intimacy or affection. And you think you’d make a good girlfriend—unlike other people, you understand him and like what you see. 

But he doesn’t love you. That much is a fact you’ve long accepted. It’s not because you’re bad for him or because he’s incapable of feeling—but rather, it’s just that bitter, soul-crushing reality that you can’t help who you love and who you don’t. Alhaitham doesn’t love you—it’s not something either of you can really change. Because if he did, he’d waste no time. He’d get to the heart of the matter and quit dancing around the issue. 

It’s just the kind of guy that he is. 

So, because this is your first and likely last time seeing him this way, you slowly reach over and brush a few strands of messy, unruly bedhead from his forehead before cupping his cheek in your hand. His skin is soft and warm under your palm, much more delicate to the touch than you anticipated from how chiseled his features are. Your thumb gently brushes along the slant of his cheekbone, eyes softening at how he lets out a puff of air as he sleeps. 

“Morning,” he says hoarsely, eyes still closed and making you jolt in surprise. He lets out a quiet, sleepy chuckle that would make you melt if not for the way your heart still pounds from the shock. 

“You’re awake?”

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding before finally cracking an eye open. “For a while now.”

“Why pretend to sleep then, you creep?” You scoff, glaring at him as he sits up slightly and glances at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. No part of him seems to be shocked about you being nude in his bed. Or the fact that you’re even in his bed at all, nude or not. 

“You’re the creep if we’re being technical here. It’s undoubtedly a little on the creepy side to study someone with such careful touches while they sleep.”

“That’s your main concern…?” You stare at him—and for lack of better words, you’re dumbfounded. You and Alhaitham have been friends for two years and counting. You’ve never once crossed the line or even toed at it to step beyond the border of anything more. And, yet, here you are. In his bed. Completely nude. He was lying there and felt your delicate touch along his skin, felt you act like a lover and not a friend on a quiet, intimate morning when in fact, you both should be shamefully avoiding each other’s eyes in a moment that’s anything but intimate as you leave. 

He makes no move to ask you to leave or even question why you’re still here. You make no move to really leave—it’s not like you want to. 

“What should my main concern be, then?” he looks at you expectantly, like he really doesn’t know.

“Oh, I don’t know, Alhaitham—shouldn’t you be a little more panicked by the idea that I’ve trespassed into your bed and seen you…bare?”

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t trespass. I let you in—and also, to be fair, I saw the same for you, too, so we’re even.”

“You’re oddly calm about this,” you hiss. “This doesn’t bother you even a little? That things might change?”

He looks at you funny—like you’ve just told him a joke that hardly makes sense but makes him want to laugh anyway. “You’re too brilliant to be this dense,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’m quite open to the idea of change.”

You take offense to the first part enough to completely miss the second part of his statement. 

“I am not dense,” you huff, “I’m incredibly bright. I’ll have to send you my thesis sometime.”

“No need,” he responds through a low hum. He pulls you closer, flush against his chest. Bare skin on skin. Intimate skin, at that. You shiver for a moment as his warm, large hand wanders lower and lower before stopping just at the small of your back, rubbing slow circles at the dimple where your spine ends. “I’ve read it plenty of times. It was very insightful.”

“Well, in that case, you should know not to insult my intelligence—”

“If you don’t notice my affection for you, I’m afraid you might not be as observant as I initially thought.”

You pause. Your heart flutters. Then it feels like it decays. Your eyes widen a fraction. Then they feel like they need to be squeezed shut for fear of tears. You feel your fingers twitch to reach for him. And yet they stiffen in distrust. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you whisper. Because you don’t.

You really fucking don’t. You thought you knew. His feelings and how to read them. His thoughts and how his mind works. Every little quirk of his and how he approaches every damn thing in this world. You thought you knew.

Now you feel like you don’t know much of anything, especially not what he means right in this moment. 

“You don’t?” He whispers, hand moving to grab your wrist and bring it to his cheek so his lips can brush along the delicate lines of your palm prints. (If he was brave, he’d tell you that his destiny and yours are written in those very lines. Maybe someday he’ll build the courage.)

“No,” you say through a shaky whisper. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you. Just like you love me.” He says it so plainly, that you almost feel like it's a dry, cruel joke. (You know him a little better than that, though, to know he’d never.)

“How do you know I love you?” you challenge just because it’s all you have left to cling to—easy, instant denial. 

He laughs. Soft. Quiet. Melodic. So fucking sweet. “I’m too smart to act dense,” Alhaitham teases. And then, for a moment, his eyes soften enough that they almost look vulnerable. “And only someone who loves me could deal with my… peculiarities. Though, I will admit, it took me quite a while to reach this conclusion. You made me work for it.”

“If you’ve known all along—” 

“Not all along,” he corrects, “like I said, it took me a while to come to this conclusion. But once I did, it was rather obvious.”

You scowl with a finger prodding into his chest, eyes misty with relief and the faintest traces of agitation, “Well, regardless, why haven’t you said something all this time? Obviously, I wasn’t as aware as you seem to be, so the least you could have done is spared me the pining and heartbreak of wondering if you’d ever look at me—”

“I wanted to make sure I could offer you a peaceful life first,” he says gently. You blink. He smiles, eyeing something in the distance—you don’t quite catch it, but you think it might be the old, worn-out stack of envelopes sitting on his desk. 

“What?”

“When you’re with me,” he whispers, leaning in so that his lips brush over yours, “I can lead a peaceful life. I wanted to make sure I could give you the same.”

“And what does that consist of?” you raise a brow. 

“Well,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth, “A stable job with a generous income, which I now have. A fixed schedule, which I have also negotiated. A proper home to house the both of us, which you are comfortably laying in. And…” he grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest where his heart is beating erratically, “A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on, which I have dedicatedly worked to add to my physique for you.”

“Haitham!” you squeal, shoving him away with a horrified shriek as he laughs with a wide grin. You don’t even know why he still remembers that comment to poke fun at it, but you suppose that is the tragedy of falling for a prodigious scholar. His mind is sharp. And so is his memory. “Enough!”

“Okay, okay,” he grins smugly. “I want us to lead a peaceful life.”

“There’s not a lot of peace I am counting on with you.”

“I will elect to ignore that statement,” he says dryly, “But that’s why I waited this long,” he buries his face into your neck, nose pressing into the skin as he inhales, “I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer, though. Won’t you accept my frugal attempt at a serene life with you?”

“Perhaps I can make do,” you fight back a stupid grin.

He smiles into your neck. You can feel it. You can practically see it. You hope you’ll grow old with it, too. 

“Then I suppose I’m forever indebted to your graciousness, my love.”

────────────────────────

TWENTY FOUR.

When Alhaitham was eight, Grandmother told him the story of how his parents had fallen in love. It was a typical love story, he thought at the time—nothing overly special or unique. A simple, sweet bond between two people who became friends and something more along the way.

What stood out were the letters. Not very much at first, but with time, he’d realized how special they were. 

Grandmother handed him the letters with a soft, melancholy look in her eyes that made him realize he hadn’t just lost his father and mother. She had lost her son and daughter-in-law. Alhaitham felt the absence of his parents often. It was hard not to at that age—he didn’t have a father to throw a ball to or tag along with to the market. He didn’t have a mother to hum him a melody or make his favorite dish for dinner. But Grandmother filled the gaps in those places well enough that even if his heart bled, not too much blood spilled between the cracks.

But he was no son. Not a proper one for her at her age, anyway. She raised him like he was her own, but she grew older every day, and he didn’t grow fast enough to keep up. He couldn’t take care of her in her old age the way his father would have. He couldn’t do much besides bring the vegetables for her to cut or set the table while she cooked. He couldn’t offer her the mora when she went to the market or carry too many of the heavy bags while they walked home. He couldn’t let her rest in her old age too much because, regardless of how mature and bright he was for his age, Alhaitham was just a child. Her child, nonetheless—Grandmother didn’t let him forget that fact. But a child.

When she died, he arranged the funeral alone. He didn’t cry throughout the whole ordeal. Her old colleagues from way back in her Akademiya days came, as did some of his parents’ old acquaintances. No one he knew too familiarly, though—no one who really mattered when they clasped his shoulder and told him to hang in there.

She was a good woman. He knew that already.

She was very intelligent. A very obvious fact.

She was exceptionally kind. A rather unsurprising observation.

She loved very deeply. Well. That one stung—as true as it might have been.

He remembers it so vividly still. How he had walked home alone after it all. How he had taken off his tie (a very poorly tied tie, at that—Grandmother had always helped him before) and silently entered his room.

It wasn’t until he had eyed his desk that finally, it all sank in. The notes—the ones his father had so carefully written his mother while they were still just starting to fall in love, sat there as if waiting for him. He read them one by one, just like he had so many times before. He didn’t realize he’d started crying until a rivulet of his sorrow landed from his cheek to the page, staining the paper a darker shade of heartache. 

Alone. 

That’s all Alhaitham had ever been since the tender age of four. At least, that’s what people had always thought—but he’d never felt the sorrow people tended to feel for him. Not having a father and mother was okay. Hard at times, but okay. Grandmother had been everything he needed. More than what he needed, in fact. 

Grandmother was everything. And she had left him just the same way his parents had. He’d cried that night—alone in a house that was nothing more than just a house. Not a home, not a place where he could return to and look forward to it. Not a place where love was waiting for him to shelter him as soon as he came back from the cruel, outside world.

Grandmother was gone. Mother and father had left so long ago. But they all had each other—in whatever world they’d crossed to, they’d had each other. 

He remembers it all so vividly still. How he’d read his father’s words, and for the first time in all his life, he’d craved it. What his parents had. 

To my love, my soul, my heart. I am yours, always. 

He wondered that night, through teary and blurry eyes, if love like that would ever find him. If he’d one day be able to call someone his love, soul, and heart.

He thinks now, as you laugh with your head tilted forward and a tweezer in hand while sitting on his lap, that he can. 

“Hold still, you,” comes your teasing remark, “you said this would be nothing. Now look at you.”

“You’re being too harsh,” he grumbles, pouting slightly. With a smile, you bend your neck down and press a soft kiss to his jutted lips, humming before pressing an extra one to the corner of his mouth for good measure. (And yes, the grand sage—acting, you can almost hear him correct in your own head—can pout. He is rather frequent at curling those lips of his in your presence when he wants something, in fact. Or when he is teased too much. Something about you brings about a side of him that is much less stoic and far more dramatized.)

“You can just admit it hurts, you know,” you say through an amused snort.

“It won’t hurt if you just do it right.”

“I’m an expert at tweezing eyebrows,” you huff, “I do mine all the time. And I would know that it hurts.”

“It can’t be that painful,” he clicks his teeth, “just be gentle.”

“I cannot gently pull out a hair from your follicle, Haitham—I don’t know what you want me to—hey!”

He grabs the tweezers from your hand and pulls you close, hugging you tight enough that his nose digs into your skin a bit as he buries it into your neck. It’s Saturday. His first out of two days off for the week—standard scribe work weeks are nine to five on weekdays, and he very much appreciates his weekends away from the bustling, lively Akademiya nonsense. 

Saturday happens to be your day off, too. 

“Where is Kaveh?” you ask quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt. He raises a brow, eyeing the suspicious movement of your fingers.

“Working with a client in Aaru Village. He won’t be back until tomorrow evening. Why am I not enough company for you?”

“Oh, be quiet,” you roll your eyes, and this time, your hands wander under his shirt, palms slowly dragging along his chiseled, planed abdomen while he shivers slightly under your touch. “I was just asking if…”

“If…?” he urges you to continue.

You know he knows. But, for the sake of indulging his smug, teasing little game, you huff and push his shirt up to expose his chest before murmuring, “If we would be interrupted or not. I don’t fancy such awkward run-ins with your roommate.”

“Our roommate,” he corrects, “this is your home, too.”

“Yes,” you smile, brushing your palms over his pectorals, watching as he stiffens when you graze along his nipples, “I suppose it is.”

“Well, he’s not here. And he won’t be, so kiss me,” he demands through a breathy whisper. You do. You kiss him instantly—because kissing Alhaitham is what you do best. When he’s happy, sad, angry, distressed, or just plain tired, kissing him is how you know him the most. When your breaths exchange and your life force and his mingle to become one, singular unit. 

You sigh into his mouth, letting his hands cradle your jaw and tilt your head to better meet his mouth, all while your hands still explore his upper half. He moans under your touch, cock springing to life slowly below you through his pants. You angle your hips forward, inching higher up his lap to drag your crotch along his and help the erection grow against the friction. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, hard and heavy between his legs in no time. 

“Haitham,” you breathe, feeling that familiar ache build between your own thighs. 

You kiss him like that for a bit. Messy, deep, sloppy, and so, so slow. With all the time in the world. Languid strokes of your tongue against his as he rolls his hips up from underneath you, dragging his clothed, bulging cock against your dripping cunt. The fabric separates you, rudely so, and it’s not long until you both grow tired of it. 

“Off,” you whine, tugging at his pants, “off, off, off!”

“So demanding,” he chuckles, pecking your nose sweetly before he lifts his hips, letting you slide off his sweatpants. “Satisfied?” 

“Yes,” you beam, “You always give me what I want. It’s my favorite thing about you.”

His gaze darkens at that—not for any other reason than it makes him so incredibly filled with lust when you speak to him like that. So spoiled and happy about it because it’s him. Him. You’re happy that it’s him. And he’s happy that it’s you. 

You don’t even bother undressing yourselves fully—he pulls down your own pants just enough to expose your pretty, leaking folds, and his hands wander under your shirt, where he almost short-circuits for a moment. Braless. Because you just love to drive him mad, he thinks. This much easy access to your soft, delicate breasts and the pert nipples that decorate them is enough to make him curse under his breath as his thumbs tease over them. 

“You’re a tease.”

“For simply existing?” you gasp, making him crack a small grin. 

“Yes,” he hums, “Your existence on its own teases me at all times. I’m afraid it drives me mad.”

You hum, reaching forward to gently take his hard, leaking cock into your hand and give a light, teasing squeeze. “Maybe my goal is to turn you completely into a lost cause.”

“Then,” he groans, throwing his head back against the couch cushions while he breathes harshly, “then you’re definitely succeeding. Is that what you wished to hear?”

“Yes,” you whisper, kissing his jaw, “It is, actually.”

It doesn’t take long at all before Alhaitham has tossed you back against the couch, laughing as you shriek at the sudden change of position. You glare at him, fighting back your own chorus of giggles as he moves to hover over you, kissing and biting playfully along your cheeks. 

“I love you,” he mumbles.

“Aw, so sweet,” you coo, “say that again.”

He rolls his eyes. His lips curl into the brightest grin at the same time. My love, my soul, my heart—the words are ingrained in his memory always. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you whisper.

He leans in for a soft, slow kiss as the tip of his leaking cock slides against your folds, tapping against your clit before rubbing along your entrance. You gasp, shuddering against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. 

“You know,” he murmurs, “I could get used to this.”

“Sex on the couch? We can do that any time—”

“A weekend with just the two of us,” he groans, dropping his head to your neck as you laugh loudly. Bright. Airy. A sound the wind carries to him in his subconscious. He hears you even when you’re not there—even when you aren’t around, he searches for you. 

“Oh,” you say playfully, “Yeah, I guess that’s nice too, isn’t it?”

“I’ll show you just how nice it’s about to be,” he hums. The tip of his thick, blunt head is pressed against your folds—you’re leaking just as much as he is. You slick, and his pre cum mix for a messy collision of arousal as he presses into you slowly, so carefully, you feel like you could break at any second with how he handles you. 

He’s patient. When Alhaitham fucks you, he’s patient enough that you feel like his other half and not his means of pleasure. Like he fucks you for you and not for himself. 

“More,” you insist, impatient as you add, “I can take it.”

“Patience is a virtue,” he clicks his teeth, “I want to take my time feeling you.”

And he does. He rolls his hips slowly. So slowly, you feel delirious. It’s a painful, gradual build-up of pleasure that has you trying to roll your hips into him to meet him halfway, a pathetic attempt when he’s on top of you to press his weight down on you to keep you in place. 

“Please, Haitham,” you whine, sweat shining across your sweet, pleasure-hazed face as he stares down at you, “Please more. I need it—need you. Need all of you.”

“You have all of me,” he groans, feeling the tight walls of your cunt squeeze around him, the squelching noise of his thick girth bullying into your folds in and out, in and out, in and out, driving him to the brink of insanity. “You’ve always had every piece of me.”

“I want more,” you hiss. 

He lets out a breathy laugh that turns into a soft moan. “If that’s what you want.”

The next thing you know, two strong, muscled arms are grabbing your thighs and bringing them around his torso to wrap around him, and his large hands grab your hips and pull, practically manhandling you deeper onto his cock. You shudder, letting out a shrill, high-pitched gasp as he intrudes further into your cunt, nudging the head of his cock against your sweetest of spots and making your body tremble. 

“Haitham,” you gasp, “Haitham, fuck—fuck, you feel so good. So deep—love when you fuck me like this.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, kissing in between your pretty little scrunched-up eyebrows, “I love fucking you like this, too. When you take me so well, squeeze so tight, and let me feel you like the good girl you are.”

His words make your folds squeeze around him, and fuck—he’s close. So fucking close, the pad of his rough, callused thumb meets your clit as he rubs circles, trying to bring you to the edge before he goes plummeting himself. 

“‘M close—almost…almost there,” you pant.

“Me too, baby,” he groans. He slams into you, skin slapping against skin and the glistening sheen of it mixing your sweat together. His mouth parts with pretty, low sounds of his pleasure, and your face twists with the devastating rush of yours. 

Once. Twice. A third time, and you fall apart as he thrusts into you and presses the tip of his thick length against the spongey spot in the back of your walls. 

“Haitham,” you gasp, legs tightening around him as your nails press crescent shapes into his back. “Fuck, I’m c-cumming…oh, Gods.”

“Good,” he gasps, and with one last roll of his desperate hips, he spills into you, too. A thick, sticky, familiar rush of heat fills your cunt, topes of cum painting you white within with every twitch of his aching cock. “Fuck—you feel so good. So perfect—you were made for me. Me.”

“You,” you whisper, breathless. 

You let him shudder over you, fingers running through his hair as he finishes releasing his load into you before he slumps his wait over your body. It’s a small couch—decorative more than functional. (All thanks to Kaveh, of course.) But you don’t particularly care when you’re under him. It feels right all the same. 

“We have the house to ourselves this weekend,” he reminds you after some time of catching your breaths. “So…so we can do this all you want.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes as you poke his forehead. “You’re obscene.”

“I’m romantic,” he corrects, “I just want to be with you and nothing else. Can’t blame a man when he’s been gifted such a beautiful sight before him.”

“And cheesy, too,” you huff. 

He smiles. My love, my soul, my heart. 

——————————

You wake up Monday morning to Alhaitham already gone—it’s rare that he’s ever up before you. He leaves the house just in time to make it to work exactly on the dot and not a moment sooner or a moment later. But, as is with any Akademiya position, there are quarterly meetings that even the scribe can’t avoid. You giggle at the image in your head of a grumpy Alhaitham carefully tiptoeing around the room as he miserably gets ready for an early morning of extra work, all while making sure he doesn’t wake you. 

You yawn, sitting up to start your morning for your own day of work ahead—but it catches your eye before you can fully rise from bed, making you pause. 

A note? No, you realize almost instantly. Not just a note—a letter. 

To my love, my soul, my heart: Kalpalata lotuses will bloom soon. I forget how beautiful the world is sometimes, and I suppose it’s because I am always distracted by your beauty alone. Will you laugh as you read this? I suppose you might because even I must admit, it is a rather cliche thing to say. I can just picture your smile now, and I am certain I will have it memorized until my last breath. It’s easy to remember it so well when it’s all I see in my dreams. Have I told you how often I see you in them? It’s difficult to think that there was once a time in Sumeru when we did not dream. It seems like sleeping beside your body is no longer enough—your presence is required even in my slumber for me to truly be at peace.  Perhaps when the lotuses bloom, we can take a trip to the deeper parts of the rainforest to catch a glimpse of a few. They say the vines are blessed by The Lord herself. I was never one to seek out the divine, but perhaps with a gift as sacred as you, I should take the time to thank Lady Kusanali for granting such brilliance to take bloom in my presence. Only, the difference is that here with you, there are no cliffs to climb or seasons to await. You are mine to bloom, always—my precious, beautiful lotus.  Forever yours,  Haitham ♡

ITS DONE. HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY FIRST AND LONGEST LOVE. YOU MEAN EVERYTHING AND MORE TO MEEEEE

[milkbobatyun]

do you tell the moon about me?

pairing: dan heng x reader

genre: slight fluff, pining

summary: the world is rose gold with the promise of love, but do i dare break this fragile balance?

word count: 584

a/n: fun fact, this actually happened in text convo w my crush, except they were literally like uhhh which [their name] are you talking abt ? (they thought i knew multiple people w the same name) it was so awkwardly funny LMAO (for context they're INTP if that explains anything)

the soft pastel interior of march 7th’s room was tinted with a rosy dream-like haze. 

playing truth or dare with alcohol on valentine’s day was probably the bold choice of march 7th, or the collaborative and chaotic idea of her and the trailblazer. your cheeks were warm, with blush or the fact that you were seated almost knee to knee with your clueless crush, you’ll never know.

you listened to every word that fell out of dan heng’s mouth, every truthful word and cheeky dare with rapt attention. without even trying, he commanded your attention, your thoughts dying before they leave your mouth whenever you feel his eyes on you.

the room fades away every time you hear his voice address you. it’s as though a spotlight is trained on dan heng’s figure. your eyes are drawn to him like magnets, eyes shining brighter than the galaxy that silently regards your quiet party from march 7th’s window.

your fingertips dance nervously on your knees, just close enough to feel dan heng’s assuring warmth. every accidental touch sends sparks flying up your arms, straight to your heart.

tongue stumbling over your words, your heart is a fragile sparrow, soaring in the winds of hope, riding the current of unspoken confessions, buried deep in the organ nestled behind your ribs. it hides secrets you’d keep locked away till the day you die.

after many failed and forfeited challenges, everyone was a different progress of tipsy. for you, the edges of the room blur. everything’s a little brighter, slightly more hopeful. drunken confidence courses through your veins like golden, fizzing hope.

“so,” march 7th’s mouth is twisted into a cheshire’s sly grin, eyes narrowed in amusement as she watches the way your eyes memorise dan heng’s every move, tracing his smile with your gaze. the sparkle of hope and something deeper, glistening in your eyes. “dearest [name], truth or dare?” “truth.” the words are out of your mouth before you know it. curse your quick mouth.

“describe dan heng in two words.” march 7th presses on. the trailblazer watches with the word “✨drama ✨” dancing with glee on their face. “pretty. breath-taking.” the words have stumbled their way out of your mouth before your brain can hold them back.

thankfully, your brain managed to catch up to your mistake, the quiet confession dancing at the edge of your mouth bitten back, along with your tongue.

it was small, a careless slip, but something shifted in dan heng’s features.

disbelief, surprise and…hope.

“me?” his voice is soft, barely above a whisper, as though he can’t believe his ears.

your laughter is nervous, hanging in the air for a fraction too long. 

“of course, how many other dan hengs do i know?” you jest, face on fire with the realisation of the implications of your drunken words. your brain is desperate to do damage control, to rewind the past few mortifying moments, to snatch those words back. but what has been said and done cannot be revoked.

you desperately bite down on the words threatening to spill from your tongue. dan heng needs not know how you secretly make wishes to the night sky, how every falling comet bears the secret hope that you could be his.

he lost the small window of opportunity, to tell you how he has late night conversations with the celestial bodies, crowding outside the archive windows, how the stars whisper secrets in his ear and how he tells them about you in exchange.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[karmaajr]

guys not the way I cried over my mum getting pissed at me outside our flat earlier and calling me a chav

for context, she called me on my phone a while back n started yelling at me n I was SO lost n turned out she only wanted me and my relative to go downstairs and pick up the shopping

n I tried to get our relative to wake up but bro js got pissy with me so I started stressing out on what I should tell my mum JUST when she calls me on my phone again

the convo follows:

-> *name* where the hell are you? it's freezing, I'm not getting all of this crap myself

-> my bad my bad, I'm uhm trying to find clothes to change into?? also *relatives name* won't wake up so what do I do??

-> I don't know! for God's sake do I have to do everything around here? just get down here

-> im still in my pjs tho...

-> I DONT CARE just come downstairs!! stop overcomplicating everything for once

-> okayokay sorry, I'll be down in a min after I find my coat

-> it's fine, it's pretty warm

i was kinda confused CUZ SHE LITERALLY SAID IT WAS FREEZING LIKE A MINUTE BEFORE??? but like, whatevs!! I still go find my coat though because like....... homie my pjs is a tank top and some thin pyjama trousers so HELL NO LMAOOO 😭😭😭

n I get downstairs after a bit n mum starts giving me stuff while giving me dirty looks and I'm like whatevs, she's probs in a bad mood cuz I was so slow n then MY DUMBASS makes the mistake of tucking my hair behind my ear 💀

which then reveals my collarbone more clearly and my mum absolutely LOSES HER SHIT OMG?!?! like girl starts screaming at me to zip up and starts saying how I look like a chav n like a....... ✨️paid adult fun timer in the making✨️ to make it PG for yall 😍😍

anyways like two minutes later our creepy neighbour pulls up and makes everything SM worse n even looks me up and down with a smirk while offering to "help us out while (my) baba is gone" as if im not literally younger than his eldest daughter 🙏🙏 (only by a year BUT STILL HOLY SHIT?? WE USED TO BE FRIENDS AS WELL SO IT MAKES IT SM WORSEE)

n ya the walk back upstairs adds to the shittiness of it all cuz mums talking shit about like, everybody in existence once again AND TALKING SMACK ABT OUR RELATIVE WHICH IS COMPLETELY FAIR CUZ OUR RELATIVE IS SO FUCKING ANNOYING OMG 💀💀💀🙏

anyways like half n hour ago I went to the living room (where my mum and sister are cuddling on the sofa watching some film that i wasnt told they were gna be watching so thats whatevs ig :D) after putting the kettle on boil and tried to check with my mum if she said what she actually said (cuz this happens a lot n she denies it afterwards which makes me feel like I'm going mad omg) and she starts laughing for like 2-3 minutes straight with me standing in the doorway on the verge of teats n my sister like "amma what word??? what word is she talking about????"

anyways I give up, pour myself some hot water after basically getting the confirmation and go to my mums room (2 bedroom flat and my relatives taken over my room atp) to cry LOL

then locked in a few minutes later BCUZ WHAT AM I CRYING OVER TF?!??!? STOP BEING A LIL BITCHHHHH????!? then I remember her absolute loathing for chavs and them lot, get upset again and blah blah now im listening to AMAZING ass covers on YouTube (on my ipad) n writing this so I can stop feeling upset omg 🙏🙏🙏 ANYWAYS BAI YALL WHO ACTUALLY BOTHERED TO READ THIS WHOLE THINGGG

[valentinebugzee]

I for one would like to know more about the sonic boom stone AU :]

I wrote a fic abt it here

But If you wanna know more:

(Some of this is about the AU in general not just stone)

-Stone's backstory is very similar to the events of the comics (He got his boss arrested and took over the shop)

-Eggman and Stone are boss and henchman at first, but eventually it turns into something more when he (Eggman) join a dating game show against Balinda and Charlie, they pretend to be dating, at the very end Stone confesses that he has always had feelings for Eggman and Eggman's the same (they lost the damn show cause the host found out they were pretending)

-Stone's favorite member of team Sonic is Tails

-His least favorite is Sticks for... obvious reasons

-Stone and Shadow form a father and son/daughter (depending on when I'm gonna trans Shadows gender in the Au, she's transfem) relationship because of muffins and coffee, Shadow claims that he's "the only person worth talking to in this village"

-Stone is a homewrecker...like literally, he sends married people fake love letters with aliases and makes sure their spouses find it.

-Stone has beef with Dave the intern, and not the fake kind meh burger serves.

-Maria is alive in this AU, she's also a supervillain like robotnik.

-Shadow was put in stasis when he was 15, he was separated from Maria and that's what caused her to become evil.

-She crashed the lab 30 years later (the timing matters so sorry not 50 years 😞) and freed Shadow

-They caused mayhem on an island different from Sonic and team's island, it had it's own set of heroes which I have not decided who they are yet.

-A literal squabble between Shadow and Maria made Shadow leave the island totally pissed and move to sonic and team's island.

-Stone's relationship with Eggman's family is......okay, mombot didn't like him AT ALL at first so he rewired her into liking him (Eggman doesn't know)

-Morpho/Steve tried to persuade Stone into becoming his assistant after a fight he (stone) had with Eggman (that's flirting in villain language) so he doesn't like Morpho very much.

-He ADORES Maria, When mombot found out that Eggman's cousin is still alive she called for an immediate family reunion.

-He loves Orbot and Cubot when they're not fucking shit up, their relationship is like Benson and Mordecai and Rigby, he's basically their second more chill boss.

-When Stone is not home wrecking he's being a matchmaker, he gives relationship advice to sonic team and he is partially responsible for Sticks and Shadow getting together.

[squalchinglobotomy]

Spooky freaks doodle dump!!

Okay only like... one of these r not old lol

ok that's it no more babies, time for the grandpas!!

OK. I AM SO VERY TIRED AND JUST WANT TO YAP!! Mainly abt the doodles n other stuff lol.

I'm obvi gonna talk about the comic WIP first, the drawing would've looked awesome if I actually finished it. Basically it was supposed to cover what the freak show does every Sunday, a wonderful, long, and super boring religious teaching from the main man Atlas. Literally no one else but Ignacio and Lila really care about these teachings. Patty is semi-interested, sad guy is sleeping, happy fella is only up because he's hyper, Bob's brain worms are gnawing at his last braincell, and everyone else is just bored out of their minds.

Truthfully, I based this on my own experiences going to church and how damn bored I was, lo!!!

Okk the Kevin and spooky kids drawing. The little cheek thing Kevin is doing to Skid was something silly I came up with. Because Kevin can't pat skid on the head he just .... does that. It was this or Kevin putting his bare foot on Skid's cranium. Their relationship is not that different from the show itself, if anything Kevin is just more tired and affectionate.

breakfast doodle… actually my favorite one I have to redraw it with all of the workers. If I added all of them Roy would be asleep at the table, Bob has a ridiculous amount of pancakes on his plate, Garcia is practicing his jokes at the table, and Ignacio is a victim of those jokes. I would involve Radford and Rick, however they don't live at the circus and wouldn't be interested in a sleepover. Actually scratch that, Radford would be down if he got to bunk with Kevin.

Happy fella is massive.

Kevin can throw daggers with his mouth, he can actually do a lot of stuff with his mouth, he can even write. He can also write with his feet but I am NOT drawing that!!

Streber and Patty……… ok I kinda want to make them date but at the same time nooo ewww but also they're cute together but also ewwwwwwwww n00000000

Streber in the tub was too silly for me to pass on drawing, literally look at him in his moist habitat omfg. I wish I could show the whole drawing but like. The whole piece is everyone taking a bath being butt naked and I doubt that I can post that lmao.

I am so tired and need to sleep it is 2am i have school smh

[11queensupreme11]

HI queen I hope you're doing okay!

I just wanted to ask this since I was rereading your responses to the asks abt cu chulainn cheating au (which I'm obsessed about I'm trying to think of more ways to make it even MORE dramatic cause this is one of my favorite au's of your fic) but would Percy actually call cu chulainn "pookie" or any other yan and would they question her (cause obv wtf does pookie mean) or would they just be like "Oh wow that must be my new nickname for ME and me ONLY" not knowing that Percy probably calls other people (her friends) pookie aswell

ALSOO!! I loved the new chapter, you're genuinely such an amazing writer!! I can't wait for the next one cause cu chulainn finally enters the story😈😈😈🙏 people kept bullying him with the cheating au despite him not even being introduced yet is crazy and now he's finally here!!!

I'm just worried for percy though cause after reading all the shit he's done even I'm scared😭 how do you manage to kill someone with impenetrable skin by shoving your weapon up their anal😭😭😭😭

ALSO!!! (sorry for asking so many questions)

what if the 3 eldest kids of percy and poseidon + dory gets isekaid or teleported back to the TLO era of percy, where she's still like 12 and is on the mission w anthonius and grover??

omg yes pls send in more cú chulainn cheating au asks cuz i'm having so much fun with it lmao (sorry sécy 😅)

and yes percy would call him "pookie" solely because she knows he hates it. he has no idea wtf a pookie even is, but it sounds cutesy and cringy so he hates it 😂😂 she calls him that for shits and giggles. as for the others...

poseidon: has no clue wtf a pookie is, but lets her call him that even though it sounds embarrassing

hades: loves it! even tho he's clueless, he'll proudly wear the "pookie" nickname and doesn't realize she uses it as a joke and that she calls other ppl her pookie too 😭

anubis: LOVES IT! YES HE IS YOUR POOKIE-WOOKIE, YOUR POOKIE-BEAR, CALL HIM WHATEVER YOU WANT 💖

loki: he loves it and he returns it by calling her a bunch of other cringy petnames too lmao

beelzebub: thinks it's embarrassing but lowkey likes it cuz it's from percy (just pls not in public 🥺). would get pissed when he finds out she calls other ppl that too

apollo: "pookie" certainly isn't as.... refined as to what he's used to, but he'll treasure that nickname!!!!!! (doesn't know he's not the only pookie in her life)

"I'm just worried for percy though cause after reading all the shit he's done even I'm scared😭 how do you manage to kill someone with impenetrable skin by shoving your weapon up their anal😭😭😭😭"

girl when the spinoff first came out, i didn't know much about cú chulainn until i saw everyone's hyped up reactions to him on reddit and they were talking about how fucking crazy he was and then i started reading some of his myths and WOW was he psycho 💀 that was the whole reason i chose him as the seventh love interest 😂😂😂😂 they're like each other's foils to be honest. they got so many similarities and yet they're also painfully different and i got way into that lmao

"what if the 3 eldest kids of percy and poseidon + dory gets isekaid or teleported back to the TLO era of percy, where she's still like 12 and is on the mission w anthonius and grover??"

so that's axiandros, kymon, thalassandros, and eudorios??? oh man that'd be a MESS. once they find out about the quest, they would actually work together to kidnap their mom 💀💀💀💀💀

might even decide to kill anthonius and grover too 😭

eudorios and thalassandros are all "we should take mom back home with us! 🤗" and axiandros and kymon, the ones holding the braincells, are gonna be like "no, we don't know how this time travel thing works. what if bringing this mother back with us, erases our current mother???"

literally the only reason they kidnapped her was to keep her from dying on this crazy quest (because who tf entrusts two 12 year olds and a goat to prevent ww3 💀) but now they don't know what to do next 💀

[reinafish]

AU yapping time finally UwU

So, Sonic is part of a prophecy. No wayy omg it’s not like I keep mentioning it ANYWAYS

The Gods(tm) contacted the Oracle of Delphius abt it and she (yes SHE) told Aleena. So uhm. Aleena’s son, Nikki, needs to be the vessel(??) of a star child thing(????? Idk what im doing BUT ITS FUN💖)

So uhm, they do that. Ofc Aleena and Berny don’t want to do it but like. They have to. </3 They take Nikki (he’s like 4) and do a ritual thing idk how it goes. SONIA (who was like 6-8) ACCIDENTALLY WITNESSED IT :( SHE LOVED HER BROTHER NOO uhh that messed her up fr. Luckily Berny noticed and hired Lady Windermere as her therapist (this sounds so funny BUT ITS TRUE THIS IS PART OF IT😭)

Manic was born like 2 yrs later and Sonia is rlly protective of him

Anyways back to the ritual- Uhh they did the thing and. it quite literally teleported Nikki somewhere else completely (Green Hills) cs he couldn’t stay w em for some reason :(

Nikki is outside of Christmas Island now ig and does the stuff in the first game like fight Eggman (btw when he went super for the first time, that’s what gave him star pupils and star ears)-

he then meets Amy in CD

They become friends !! Well, sorta- Nikki can’t remember anything prior to teleporting to Green Hills, not even his name… so it’s hard for Amy to understand him, but she names him Sonic ^_^

It’s not until he meets TAILS that he learns stuff again :D Tails teaches him how to talk and other things!!

Everything after that is pretty normal- He meets Knuckles and then there’s the murals which they feel look a lil familiar but wtv

Shadow bc he’s important.. I guess

He’s based off those murals, that’s it

I love Blaze so I rlly need to say this

She’s sorta based off black holes bc Sonic is a star. I’m gonna flesh out the Sol Dimension eventually trust bro

Unleashed my beloved

Chip knows, that’s all I’m saying❤️ also this is around the time Sonic gets those cyan markings lol

THERE’S GONNA BE MORE I JUST DONT KNOW IT YET💖💖💖

Anyways I rlly need to talk abt this now:

Nikki is not Sonic and Sonic is not Nikki

Nikki doesn’t exist anymore.

So when Sonia or Aleena and Berny accidentally call him that, it’s really… well, sad. Sonic doesn’t like it. That’s not who he is. He hasn’t been him for 13 years. Manic is the only one that hasn’t called him that.

:) yeah so im giving him more of an identity crisis lol..

Ok yeah thats it for this shitty au bye

[wombpala]

deanlisa is rlly the most succinct illustration of what i mean abt dean's, (and spn's construction of heroism in general), protectiveness/desire to preserve innocence not being a good thing. lisa picnic hallucination is something you get to admire for its purity and domesticity. it's a counterbalance. it's the image of civilization you put behind glass and keeping it clean and safe is what justifies your shitty bloody hero's journey. and the static stable heaven where you go to rest offscreen when you're done killing. but u cannot actually fully participate in a relationship with lisa braeden bc she is innocent and you are not and to connect with her on a human level would destroy the Concept of her. 'i can't bring this crap home to you.' 'you're talking about your job?' 'i'm talking about my life.' over and over again she says pls tell me what's going on i'm here for you i want you around it was the best year of my life. and dean's like noooo fuck i'm such a burden to you i'm polluting your innocence and safety. solution: just wipe her mind. you've cleaned the slate and you can even still take the concept of her with you. he literally erased the best year of her life.

[aranarumei]

just.... gonna put this link to me talking abt sasaki and kagiura right here....

really they are so fascinating to me though. sasaki and hirano's relationship is fun because they are obviously quite close and also kind of distant. they don't really Talk abt romance straightforwardly to each other, so sasaki just kind of hears abt hirano's roommate and files it away in his brain and also conspicuously doesn't tell miyano abt any of it, which could be like. mild jealousy of his investment in the situation, but I actually think it's more like... sasaki's just kind of looking out for the both of them in his own way. saving hirano from questions. but sasaki also just. doesn't know kagiura at all, and kagiura doesn't know sasaki that well, and hirano is kind of terrible at really defining either relationship super well. (the light novels have some really interesting stuff regarding sasaki and hirano's dynamic btw). so all of this kind of bleeds into how sasaki and kagiura perceive each other. and just the addition of being in two almost entirely separate spheres of hirano's life but being kind of... constantly poked at by the other's presence... that's fascinating. and funny to watch.

I feel like a lot of kagiura's feelings abt hirano kind of stem from the fact that being his roommate is really like. the only proper connection he has with him. apart from that they're not really intertwined in each other's circle of friends. and if kagiura wants to be with hirano forever... he kind of wants to be there for All The Things. interestingly you see this sentiment kind of mirrored in vol 10 of sasaki to miyano, where both sasaki & miyano get interesting shots of like. minor jealousy, seeing a guy they don't know super well interacting with their boyfriend. like, sasaki is in college so miyano doesn't know ugawa well, and sasaki doesn't know shirahama well bc he was a character that literally only was named in the manga after he graduated. it's an awareness that there's parts of their lives that they used to share with each other that they can't quite do anymore, at least not in the exact same way. kagiura's staved off some of his fears by becoming roommates with hirano for a second year, but I think that idea—that hirano and him might have nothing to do with each other at some point—haunts him.

(god. let's not get into the adult au bc i'll cry)

This page never fails to make me laugh (in a good way) because I just have to imagine being sasaki here. Every previous impression of Kagiura (that wasn't because of what Hirano has said about him) has been wiped from his memory (e.g. ch. 12). You think you're having a normal conversation with your friend and you look up and your friend's roommate is giving you the CRAZIEST look and we've yet to see what the look is. I find it so funny particularly because of how tense this moment was. Like I FELT it. And the fact that it's sasakagi makes me have to laugh. This is (at least some) the context of their awkward "i don't like him" thing we've been waiting for.

Which makes me wonder why in ch. 46 sasaki was asking about him, like considering the state of their relationship were seeing currently, I couldn't imagine sasaki going out of his way to talk to him, so why ask about him at all lol also he really does not retain any info about kagiura only "kagi-kun" because that's what hirano calls him and that's he's on the basketball team. They're so funny dawg. I bet kagiura couldn't even tell u anything about sasaki at all. They're too funny

Also, I rlly hope we get to see them interact again... preferably alone bc that would be hilarious. Can yall tell I love them they're so awkward and stupid and weird. It's the funniest dynamic in the series by far and they've interacted (directly) once. I don't have them but there were graduation messages for each character from sempai to kouhai and vice versa after the movie, and Kagiura did thank Sasaki (reluctantly) and Sasaki did acknowledge Kagiura (reluctantly) which makes me think they do interact again. And my God they're just so funny. I could write an essay on how funny I find them

[mamawasatesttube]

and then they kissed (because they both wanted to kiss kon)

[prbywoo]

I get the whole choreography thing but I was already a fan of both chaewon and sakura since their iz*one and days and I obviously was gonna stan them. Unforgiven was a little tame compared to smart, but let me tell you people had way more sick excuses one of the many was that she was already 18 in korean age and that even if she wasn't she was gonna turn 18 soon. I actually have a song from their debut ep that I always have on repeat and that's the great mermaid it's such an amazing song and it fits their voices alot I can't imagine a group who'd sing it better than them.

And you're right about them training only 1 year together since yunjin was training with newjeans at that time and I'm pretty sure kazuha was still doing ballet and eventually suddenly joined the kpop industry as for eunchae she was training under another company and she has some predebut covers and I'm pretty sure sakura and chaewon were training together. So they didn't actually train together for long, and I'll always say this garam was one of the best at everything in the group id say interms of ranking it was chaewon, kazuha and then her,she didn't deserve what happened to her. And just like you said abt seonghwa, he brings alot to the group and is one of the members with the most verses meaning that if he was (hopefully never) leaves ateez it'll be easier for them to perform new songs instead of changing the lines for the old songs. Even tho hybe doesn't have any legal control over it's subunits they still have alot of control over what they're doing and I'm sure the contracts stated so, and the background check goes for the artists they collab with aswell, like with the whole enhypen and bella poarch isssue and a the unnecessary remixes they're doing left and right. Like it or not newjeans shifted the industry MASSIVELY just because they had an issue with their company-that they had the right of doing, doesn't mean they weren't big icons, i mean I've personally never seen such a fun and fresh concept in kpop, and even though they're known for their y2k fresh concept they've now changed their name to NJZ and hanni said that they are coming with a new concept no one has seen in the kindustry and hanni also mentioned that ador have filed two lawsuits against them.

So true I remember one time I was wondering how much staff seventeen and NCT have and how much pain they have to go through to prepare their outfits and make certain copies or pairs of the outfits incase of any accidents, it mainly started when I saw a tweet and it said these are all seventeen's luggages and it was like 30 bags and it was only the stage stuff not even their personal stuff. And same thing goes to ateez even though they're lately have been naked on stage and I'm convinced that the luggages the staff have are only for jongho, yunho, and hongjoong.

I literally talk to cahtgpt about kpop issues and problems because I have no kpop stan friends except for my cousin who only stans bts and seventeen.

I tried to get her into ateez but she got intimidated when she watched the guerilla mv especially the end screaming part, but she then had a crush on jongho when she heard his highnote in cyberpunk and wonderland but I told her to watch her back cause he's my bf(excuse for my delusions but If I can't have the real thing I can atleast imagine ✋😔😔)

I was having a bad day and decided to watch some hongjoong tiktoks until I stumbled upon this shit ass account and I'm actually so pissed

Like girl called hongjoong a gdragon wannabe, said that he's selfish, taking "opportunities" from the vocalists of the group, and that he's the one not giving lines to his members

How can people be so stupid, I mean he's still making money and doesn't care about whatever these dumb haters are saying

[dkettchen]

she would've told them unlike her canon! version who decided not to be an ally smh

[mazeyphaedra]

was rewatching fabian’s baron moment on account of it being the most delicious piece of pvp in my recent memory and ally beardsley’s growth as a player just shone through so brightly and with such clarity. after dusting off their shock they immediately asked about the nemesis ward, had enough knowledge about fellow pcs stocked to remember adaine’s ac with such like frustrated confidence and certainty, suggested to siobhan to dimension door out of adaine’s room, like. they came into this making a character with 4 dex. and now the dice deity offered to roll a check to sense if adaine was in danger. making decisions, asking questions, getting invested in the story, trying so hard with the tools they have to save characters from danger; ally beardsley is an incredible d&d player.

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

No okay because what REALLY GETS ME about Adam and Lute's final interaction is that THIS FACE

Seems deeply out of character for Adam. Like, especially considering how he was having the classic Third Act Breakdown right before this? This cocky motherfucker got stabbed by fucking NIFFTY after getting his ass beat by LUCIFER HIMSELF, and yet this is the look on his face as he bleeds out. You'd think he'd be more upset, but he just seems. Accepting. Ready for this fate. Which is COMPLETELY UNLIKE ADAM!!!!!!! The only in-character reason this would be the final look on his face would be that he's putting on a brave face for Lute. Lute who came running over to him as soon as she saw him fall, yelling for him, crying. Adam, the pettiest, bitchiest asshole in the entire goddamn show is putting on a brave face for her. Or he's just like. Happy to see her in his final moments. Which either way they cARE ABOUT EACHOTHER SO MUCH I CAAAAAAAAAN'T-

[mysummerchild]

YES THAT LYRIC OMG

*sniffles* thankd

omg yeah it was like 2-3 yrs ago so im good.

basically, i liked this guy. he liked me back (we'll call him aidan) we knew that we liked each other, but we hadn't started dating yet. then, i started becoming close to the friend I mentioned (we'll call her jess). then, my other friend (we'll call her alice), started to meddle in a bit. the thing is, me and aidan didn't really have that many common friends, so alice was one of the rare few. she was the one who told me he liked me and vice versa, and had taken it as her personal mission to get us together, no matter what (for reasons i still dk). then, one day, alice approaches me and tells me that my new friend jess (who was alr close friends with all my friends and alice herself) has liked aidan for like 3 years. boom. i felt terrible, but I couldn't say anything to jess cus i wasn't supposed to know. i felt so guilty cus I felt like i stole her guy sd I had just started to like aidan a few months prior. then, me and aidan start to date. alice goes and yells jess I know abt her liking aidan (idek why) and jess feels terrible for making me feel terrible and we sit down and talk. she tells me im her heather, and i literally cry (this was the time around 2022 when the song was super popular). we didn't let it affect our friendship but it was pretty awkward for a few weeks. anw since then, me and aidan broke up after a few months, out friend group dropped alice cud she kept gaslighting and manipulating us, and mr and jess are still close!

sorry it's so long, im a yapper at heart

kinda love how me and @stars-over-ice-cream have 7392 convos going on 18392 posts over like 3 weeks <33

(half of them are about a "stalker" named brian who's completely real and not me at all)

[starry-bi-sky]

do yall ever think about bruce/batman!clone danny standing in front of his bathroom mirror after finding out he was a clone and silently tracing his face. The slope of his jaw and point of his chin. The high angle of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brow bones and the shape of his nose. The volume of his hair and the way it curls and gets fluffy when it gets too long.

His hair is black the same way a crow's wing is black. His dad's hair is black the same way a black bear's fur is black. His dad's eyes are blue like the ocean is blue. Danny's eyes are blue the same way a glacier is blue.

His dad has a square jaw and straight flat hair, and he tans and gets a face full of freckles when he's out in the sun for too long. Danny burns like a lobster and his face remains untouched. Danny has a sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, and Sam says when he's not smiling there's almost something regal about him. You would never call Jack Fenton "regal" when he's not smiling.

Sam says when he's not smiling he looks scary the same way a stone statue is. Jack Fenton when he's not smiling looks scary the same way that german shepherd staring at you across the street is.

Do you ever think he grew up wondering if he was adopted. Because of course, he has black hair and blue eyes like his dad. But having the same color doesn't make you someone's child.

Or, worse, things he's heard from the other kids and the other parents and even some of his teachers growing up; that he was the product of an affair. And that his dad was just too stupid to notice. And Danny would defend his parents until the day he died, because Jack Fenton wasn't an idiot and Maddie Fenton wasn't a cheater.

But doubt comes in with fickle tongue. his parents swear up and down that he is their child when he asks about either. That Danny just had his grandparents' features, but he was their son and they loved him.

But Danny doesn't look like either of his parents. His mom's eyes are blue like an aquamarine and Jazz's too. And they burn like lobsters in the sun too, but Jazz gets freckles on her face and so does Maddie. And as Danny grows up he doesn't bulk up or get stocky like his dad did, and when he hits puberty he doesn't shoot up like a tree like Jack Fenton did.

He stays small, and they say he's a late bloomer (and he is), or that he just has his mom's height. But he's fast and has good stamina, and some days it feels like he's built entirely different from his family. That the things they went through growing up just didn't apply to him. Jack and Maddie Fenton both had acne and breakouts when they hit puberty, and Jazz inherits it and he's seen the amount of skincare products she keeps on her side of the bathroom.

And then he hits puberty and breaks out maybe once or twice, but his skin stays clear for the most part and the problems and changes his dad went through just don't happen to him.

And the truth is worse than all of the lies.

How horrifying.