#LUFIAN

[bjlyn]

Burak Deniz x Lufian

[emrekrks87]

Vitrin Boş Kalmasın Dedik 😎 Zara Yeni Sezon 😎 #zara #zaraman #pullandbear #bershka #defacto #mavi #mavijeans #ltb #fashion #model #dsdamat #lufian #trendyol #trendyolman #redbullmotogp #redbullracing #redbullmotorsports #redbull #motorcycle #motor #motorsiklet #motogp #motocross #motogirl #bajaj #bajajdominar #bajajpulsar #commuter #avva #balanciaga (Marmara Park Beylikdüzü) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqBQTMANmWj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[astarab1aze]

"My, my, Atsushi- Look at all of these bingos! Come, come; Let me kiss you, love. I feel like I haven't seen you in years - I miss you and you're so, so far away--"

[citizenoftmrrwlnd]

hi I’m so sorry to ask, we have a few fictives of you know who. So I’m just asking really for two who both want both find a new name that aren’t related to him.

One is from the ARG and CC. He’s doesn’t care he wants anything else.

The other is a simpbur who just wants some name that aren’t what they currently have. Like love theme and stuff? If you understand.

But thank you for doing this. I’m thankful if you do take our request.

of course, anon! i hope these names help them both pick new names.

#1

winter - i think i included this on a different name list recently, but it feels very fitting. the coldest season, starts with a whi- sound eirwyn - meaning "snow drift" izotz - meaning "ice" caldwell - meaning "cold stream" whittaker - meaning "from the white field," starts with a good whi- sound january - a winter month that i think makes a good name

#2

agape - meaning "love" anwil - meaning "beloved" (plus there's that -wil bit in there) lufian - meaning "full of love" and could be shortened to luffy as a cute nickname romeo - a classic literary figure known for the romance he was involved in westley - the name of the love interest in the princess bride! starts with w, too! corwin - supposedly meaning "heart's friend"

[jamescheetham]

To LOVE. v.a.  [lufian, Saxon.]

1. To regard with passionate affection, as that of one sex to the other.

2. To regard with the affection of a friend

3. To regard with parental tenderness.

4. To be pleased with.

5. To regard with reverent unwillingness to offend.

Samuel Johnson's Dictionary, 1755

[lovelufian]

Apparently pinned posts with intros in them is a thing now. Used to put this in just the description. And I'm also bad at it.

Call me Lufian. In my 20's. Nonbinary. He/him or they/them. This is my safe space.

I came from the dark and bitter side of the internet. But I'm currently recovering my mental health, away from the bitter parts of the online world.

I write, and read, if you know what I mean. But not professionally. And not always.

I'm into kawaiicore. Used to be into horror and gore, since it's what I grew up into, but I'm now finding my own style and taste to amuse and know myself.

I usually just reblog since I don't always have energy to post myself. So treat this blog as a collection of things I encourage.

[oldenglishtextposts]

FREOND is cin ELÞEODIGAN MAÐE se þu canst LUFIAN

a FRIEND is a type of WEIRD BUG that you can LOVE

[edebiyatiturk]

Lufian Takım Elbise

Lufian Takım Elbise: Şıklığın ve Konforun Buluştuğu Nokta Moda dünyası, zaman zaman klasiklere dönerek, zamansız ve şık parçaların yeniden hayat bulmasını sağlar. Bu noktada, **Lufian takım elbise** markası, şıklık, kalite ve rahatlık arayan erkekler için öne çıkmaktadır. Lufian, yıllar içinde edindiği tecrübe ve tasarımlarında yarattığı mükemmel uyum ile her yaştan ve tarzdan erkeğin tercihi…

[nasiakrsn]

Arkadaslar ben lufian mont paket erkekten sonra kültürlü old money erkek denedim baya iyiymiş şiddetle öneririm

[emrekrks87]

Merhaba Arkadaşlar. Kanalıma Abone Olup, Beğeni ve Yorum Yaparak Destek Olursanız Sevinirim. Teşekkür Ederim 🙏 #zara #zaraman #pullandbear #bershka #defacto #mavi #mavijeans #ltb #fashion #model #dsdamat #lufian #trendyol #trendyolman #redbullmotogp #redbullracing #redbullmotorsports #redbull #motorcycle #motor #motorsiklet #motogp #motocross #motogirl #bajaj #bajajdominar #bajajpulsar #commuter #avva #youtube (Istanbul, Turkey) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp7zNoEtCQO/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[astarab1aze]

It wasn't easy to make Hanma uncomfortable. However, getting used to so much closeness, not in intensity but in numbers, was novel in some uneasy ways. In other words, between Vita and Geralt, tagging along on their travels upon his own request, he felt sometimes like a deranged goldilocks. Worth it though, so worth it. Falling asleep and waking up with his arms around Asuka, or the other way around, or with legs and arms all tangled up with no way of distinguishing where one ended and the other one started. Such was the case that morning, his face glued to their shoulder with no memory how it came about. That's where the first kiss was planted, tongue pushing lightly against the skin. The other one landed on their throat, a little less delicate, skin getting sucked on, hoping to get Asu to wake up. Third, planted on their jawline, teeth grazing it as he traveled up, finally making his way to their lips, where he greeted them with multiple short, light kisses again, featherlike, aiming for titillating. " It's kissing day, I don't make the law. " He rasped in decidedly morning voice.

Ash-black fingers and toes curled with gentle rousing, nose stubbornly brushing into their down pillow, humming, licking their lips - stretching in a tangle of limbs and feathers. It didn't take much to wake the harpy, a light-sleeper by nature, especially not when Hanma was involved, even after a few weeks' uncomfortable travel north through Myrrdin dodging soldiers, hunters, and all manners of monster alike. A few well-placed kisses were no exception to this rule.

Besides, they could feel his hair tickling their shoulder and neck, soon enough their nose, too. Lips and teeth sure to follow, at first sweet and easy then firmer, perhaps wanting. Oh, to be wanted so early in the morning, amid a mess of feathers and cotton, faintest sunlight streaming through the window with the caw of an avulisk. To feel his breath on their skin as soon as and before stirring, golden eyes slowly opening in time with the kisses now pressed to the corners and curves of their mouth. Light, of course, words spoken in between.

Asuka was still much too tired for talking, groggy, dizzy, and certainly left to blush, but they would trust him. Kissing Day, how silly, but Lufian was known for its romantic festivals, celebrating the many facets of romantic love, and others too. It'd been easy to figure out when they'd be holding one - they'd arrived in the middle of it, treated to crowds of lovers old and new and elaborate, gaudy decorations, and they'd been much too exhausted to partake and enjoy in any of it. They supposed, Hanma was making up for that in his own way. They didn't need to wander out into the city to celebrate love, now, did they?

They could waste the day away in bed together, just like this, while Crovita and Geralt got into trouble for a change. Without stifling company, the discomfort of newfound proxmity, or the risk of judgment. Merely, gratefully, this. Where kisses were returned, teeth playfully catching on lower lip, giving in and palming, grasping at Hanma in so sleepy a manner, needy all the same. Maybe they were a bit indulgent, too willing to melt into the serpent, caution gleefully thrown to the wind in favor of the here and now, with him. With him.

In that smile, in those eyes, ever teetering between gold and deep violet, they saw something that could last, permanence in the chaos they shared. Nothing perfect, but that's not what they wanted; They wanted him, explicitly and specifically him. The strangest, wildest man with skeletons all his own, casting a long shadow that comforted as much as it frightened, with intensity they thought they could never rightly match. How tender he could be, when no one was around to see. Asuka knew right away when they met that Hanma would be the end of them, and they wouldn't have had it any other way.

"G'mornin' to you, too, Hani."

[yaroikoworks]

DOCTRINE 2

"*Ah, there we have it! This thing's finally on. Anyway, uhh... This is Doctrine #2, regarding subject-? Ser- Are you kidding me? He’s STILL unidentified?” The researcher stared into the cell in frustration, his thoughts interrupted as he raised an eyebrow, noticing the cell now looked less like a testing chamber and more like a luxurious prison cell. The childlike skeleton wandered around his chamber in confusion, holding a book from the recently added bookshelf. The room was fully furnished, with comfortable heating, a bookshelf, a bed, a small sofa to the side, and... an unused TV. The researcher felt a twinge of jealousy, as he himself lived in a cramped apartment filled with paperwork and litter. He sighed tiredly, then opened the chamber door with a notepad in hand, walking in with an unusually calm demeanor. The child looked over in innate shock, still harboring fears of people, and finally spoke.

“Hwā... eart þū?”

What the hell? the researcher thought to himself, genuinely puzzled and taken aback by the strange language the child spoke. With a gentle yet tired sigh, he realized this was going to be harder than it needed to be.

"*Usually, I don’t exactly have to deal with these things... but, of course, now I do. Great." He looked at the child again, then turned to the side as the chamber door closed behind him. He walked toward the sofa and sat down formally, crossing one leg over the other. Looking back, he spoke in the child's language. He didn’t actually know it; he was only following a script made by the research team. (It had taken him three weeks to learn it.)

“Hāl, ic eom of nān wyrm, mīn geþoht hēr syndon to understandenne þīn cyne. Wēna, miht þū secgan mē hwæt is þīn nama?”

The child responded hesitantly.

“Mīn nama is Nightmare... Hwā... eart þū? Wēre- Wēre ic?”

The child looked confused but relatively calm. He wasn’t expecting much, but the researcher continued, using a prompt meant to convey that he did not actually speak the child’s language.

“Ic eom sory to secgan þe, ac þas frægnunga wæron forðgewritene forðan, mihtest þu me þa andwyrdan syllan þurh writan on þisum papere?”

The child looked puzzled but complied, writing his name. “Nightmare” remained unchanged, though that was not the researcher's concern. Moving on to the next question, he continued.

“Þancie þē for andswarian. Nū, miht þū mē secgan forhwæt ymb þæt wæs swiðe forwundod?”

The child paused, then wrote down the response.

“... Ic wēne nāt secgan.”

Noticing the child’s discomfort, the researcher chose another prompt and spoke again.

“Āh, ic geseo. Nū, miht þū mē secgan forhwæt þū on þæt geolu cæppe reācted?”

The child looked up, silver hues flashing in his eyes for a moment, before embarrassedly pulling his hands into his cape and grasping the notepad with a calmer demeanor.

“... Hit wæs fram mīn Brōþor. Ic... Ic wāt þū nāt wāt mīn spræc. Ætēowlice- Ac... Wēst þū wāt hǣt mīn Brōþor is?”

The child handed back the notepad, not expecting a direct answer since he knew the other couldn’t speak his language.

“Wēnlic, nū miht þū mē secgan hwæt þū sylflic hæfst to dōn?”

The researcher spoke, trying to keep this as brief as possible. He had no intention of drawing it out more than necessary. The child looked back at him with a baffled stare, unsure whether this was meant to be taken seriously.

“Hwæt? Ic eom twelf geara eald, hlāford.”

The researcher raised an eyebrow at the child’s confused look but shrugged, continuing with the script.

“Wēnlic, hwæt is þīn lēofost cynd of fōda?”

The child chuckled awkwardly and offered a gentle smile, seeming embarrassed about something.

“Ic nāt gemǣne hæbbe to etan, ac... Ic do wēnig lufian sum Æppel... Āwkwērd...”

Handing back the notepad, the child waited as the researcher unenthusiastically continued.

“Wilt þū ænig cynd of clāþa?”

After a moment, the child looked down at himself, gave a slight frown, and wrote down a response.

“Ic mihte, ic bēo fram mīn clāþas in lǣsse hrēowum stæte? Þæt wuldor wǣre genōg...”

The researcher sighed quietly, clearly not understanding a word he was saying. With some hesitation, he asked a more sensitive question.

“Forlǣtan þā gehwæt, miht þū mē andswarian hwæt þæt meltende trēow of micelre mǣgþe is fram? Gif þū wāt.”

The child’s eyes dimmed as he stared at the researcher, then gripped the notepad tightly once more.

“Sume þæt þū sculon nāt gemētan.”

Seeing the anguish in the child's gaze, the researcher felt a pang of pity. Hesitantly, he continued, even though he didn’t fully understand the context. The child’s discomfort was unmistakable, yet he had no choice.

“Miht þū mē secgan hwā is se mannisca gehāten DREAM, gif þū wǣst þone mann?”

The child didn’t respond. Instead, he walked over to the sofa, got off, and moved to his small bed in the corner, clearly unwilling to answer. The researcher asked his name... but no answer came. With a sigh, he murmured his closing line.

“Wē þēah þīn tīma, wē hæfdon... forðfēon of frægnunga, wē wēnað þē þā þing þū behēodest, hæbbe gōdne æfen.”

The researcher took his notepad, the chamber door opening as he left with a guilty expression, as if he’d hurt someone he cared for, though he had never met this child before. The door closed as he exited, and he spoke again.

“The text will be transcribed soon. End Doctrine.”