#but that’s what personal blogs are for! and one of the points does tell me to stop being embarrassed by things i write ironically
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vahalia-cress · 7 hours ago
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RP/Community Etiquette Notes: For Beginners
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Something I noticed over the years on this platform, as some people will use other people’s inspiration, time sourcing and finding things that correlate with their own characters (speaking of RP blogs specifically) and reblog when the mood strikes, and then there are some out there that will reblog waves and waves of your content treating the content and your archive like a personal storage, pool and receptacle for endless content for their own RP blogs.
I cannot stress enough how demoralizing this may be for some people who experience this, myself included, where other RPers in a community or overlapping communities will mass-reblog your stuff with zero interaction. 
I also want to preface that if you reblog a few times here and there from one person or a mutual RP blog, that this post doesn’t pertain to you – unless of course you are someone who is experiencing someone else reblogging consistently everything you post for your own OC to where you feel like they’re starting to lose their identity and what makes them an original character.
The reason that this becomes a point of contention for some RPers is that it feels like, over time (and the more it is done in excess), people feel like bites of their character and what unique bits are made up of them are being chewed off consistently.
If it has ever crossed your mind that “Maybe I reblog too much from this person too often,” you may be right, especially if the other person is also another RP blog. If you’ve ever had to ask yourself that question, then perhaps this post pertains to you.
Reblogging, in general, on socials such as Tumblr (X, TikTok, FB, etc.) is just part of the social ecosystem. Social platforms are supposed to encourage the sharing of information and ideas. But as RPers, we need to realize how far is too far and at what point are we just chomping off parts of other people’s characters for our own benefit. How much is too much? How does the person on the other side of the screen feel about it?
I can tell you that nine times out of ten, they notice, which is why several RP blogs out there will suggest reblogging from the source.
It’s totally fine to feel inspired and reblog posts you enjoy, but we also have to be cognizant of the extent to which we’re doing this to one another. A few here and there, once in a blue moon, when the mood strikes is harmless – but if you’re reblogging from someone who posts 4 times a day (as an example) and you’re reblogging each of those posts or reblogging from them every time they post something, it might be time to step back and consider if maybe this post pertains to you and how do you go about your interactions.
Don’t @ other people on someone else's RP posts if someone else is already @’ed or if it pertains to a ship. The best way to go about this is to just reblog from the source or from a source that doesn’t have the @’s in there. Don't remove their @’s.
If someone posts a piece of artwork of their character, don’t reblog it with tags claiming it's your character or any sort of relation to it. The artwork was made for them, not you.
Specifically speaking of the FF14 community and GPOSE posts: It’s not okay to have full conversations in someone’s comments about wanting to ‘recreate’ what they posted. It’s best to leave a kind comment, like the post, and quietly do your own recreation. Give credit where credit is due. DMing people and asking them privately if they would mind doing a similar shot for their own character is the kind and mature thing to do. I’ve had many people come to me and do/ask this specifically of me, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for them for:
-Taking my feelings into consideration enough to DM me directly and ask. -Acknowledging the fact that they’ve been inspired and we can have a discussion about it. -I’m not being excluded from the narrative as the creator of the idea. -My posts aren’t being eaten alive by vultures, and the joy of the shots being entirely overshadowed by “I’m so gonna recreate this for my own OC/WoL when I get home.”
A few takeaways from this post:
-Inspiration =/= Outright copying. They’re two different definitions. Inspiration is taking elements of something and recreating something else, using the source as a starting point. Copying is just replicating without any creative modification. -Find other methods of finding your own type of content, be it from the sources of posts (OP posts) and other platforms such as Pinterest etc. -Master your own Impulses. -Consider other RPers on the other side of the screen who put a lot of time and dedication into building aesthetics for their characters. -Interaction is important. -Communication and utilizing DM features are also very important. -Other people’s artwork of their characters or commissions is not for your personal use. -Paving your own way is far more rewarding. -RP blogs of other OCs and aesthetics aren’t posted for the consumption of other people like they’re simply in a grocery store plucking things off the shelf that they enjoy. RP blogs are designed for aesthetics, stories, questions, and more for THEIR I characters. Not yours. Please be mindful of that and practice restraint and independence in finding your own content and practicing proper reblog etiquette with your RP peers.
Just a few things I’ve encountered during my time here on Tumblr within the FF14 community. I’ve also been a part of other MMO RP communities here on Tumblr as far back as 2010, and I thought I would share a few things I’ve noticed in hopes of helping educate the newcomers here on the platform.
I too, in the past and when I first began here, have likely been guilty of doing a few of these things. I think is important for the beginners here to be aware of and to have open discussions about as peers on a platform we all enjoy and through a hobby we all appreciate – especially since I don’t see this topic brought up enough as casual and kind PSAs.
Please keep in mind that this post is just how I feel on the topic(s) when those experiences find my doorstep and is not meant to incite discourse, negativity, or hate in any way nor is it directed at certain individuals and is only presented in a general sense. I wanted to impart a teeny-tiny bit of wisdom to beginners here on this platform, and I implore others to reblog and add to this should they have other points and ideas to share. 
Stay mindful. Stay kind to one another.
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itspileofgoodthings · 2 months ago
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sometimes I make a post and then have to save it to drafts so I can gauge if it’s too shallow/flippant for me to share with the general public.
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hanzajesthanza · 7 months ago
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Bez krwi nie ma wampira. Jest to substancja, która decyduje o jego istnieniu, podobnie jak o istnieniu człowieka. Without blood there is no vampire. It is this substance which determines his existence, just as it does the existence of a human.
Maria Janion. "6. Krew i ciało," in Wampir: Biografia symboliczna. ("6. Blood and body," in Vampire: A Symbolic Biography.)
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cloverapple · 1 month ago
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How I Shift On Command + How You Can Too
I don’t plan on posting anything other than this or starting a blog, so I don’t need anyone to “believe” in me. The only person you should trust is yourself—trust yourself to resonate positively with what you see online and click away if it doesn’t serve you. This is here for you to take from if it resonates. I literally only made this blog to post this here. My hope is that it reaches at least one person who can take something from this and apply it to their shifting journey. If not, and this post ends up here untouched, I’m just glad to finally get everything down in words and off my chest. 
Jumping straight to the answer because I’m not going to make anyone sit through a long post for it. The rest, the "advice," is here if you want to read it.
The "method"
I figured out what works specifically for me as an individual instead of following everyone else’s journey. Everyone has their “thing” that makes shifting click, a sweet spot that makes reality shifting possible. For me, it’s a combination of the law of assumption and inducing an altered state of consciousness.
During the day, I spend time affirming—or sometimes just reminding myself or keeping a little note nearby—things like:
I can shift.
I know how to shift.
I could shift tonight.
Shifting is accessible to me.
At night, I watch videos, look at Pinterest boards, or listen to music that reminds me of my DR. This ingrains where I’m going in my brain. Sometimes I do this for fun, and other times I skip it entirely.
When I lay down, I always lie on my back and stay somewhat still because I like the feeling of my body going numb. This isn’t necessary to shift, but I enjoy it—it lets me feel the symptoms of hypnagogia (that in-between state of wakefulness and sleep).
To meditate quickly, I count from 1 to 100 with a few affirmations in between to remind myself of what I’m doing. I do this until my body goes numb, and I start messing up the counting. Usually, the mistakes or random, nonsensical thoughts are my signal to start shifting.
At this point, I begin affirming the things I affirmed during the day:
I could shift right now.
I have the ability to shift.
I have the power to shift at any moment.
While I do this, I focus on the feeling of being in my DR—not my surroundings, not my senses, just the internal feeling of being there.
This is where “brazen impudence” comes in. I hard-force myself to feel like I’m in my DR. It’s not about imagining my surroundings but purely about embodying the feeling of being there.
Hypnagogic imagery and sensations like floating often kick in at this point. These are symptoms of your body falling asleep so your awareness can take shape in that sweet spot for shifting.
I continue this, then stop and start counting from 1 to 100 again, with affirmations like:
I can shift.
I know how to shift.
I could shift right now.
Then I repeat the process: using brazen impudence to force myself to feel like I’m in my DR.
Eventually, I reach that threshold between sleep and wake—a liminal state of pure consciousness. Body asleep, mind awake, I call this the “rabbit hole” which is honstly just a deep state of hypnogogia. It’s a state where anything is possible: lucid dreaming, astral projection, slipping into the void, shifting—anything.
When I’m in this state, I use brazen impudence to force myself to feel like I'm shifting to my DR and don't take no for an answer (I tell myself I'm in Barbados and shut the door in my own face). This can involve affirmations or just talking myself through it, either way I wake myself up there. Occasionally, I simply relax, expect to wake up in my DR, fall asleep, and wake up shifted.
Does all that sound complicated? Let me simplify:
Lay down and get comfortable.
Count from 1 to 100 on a loop with affirmations in between until you mess up the counting, get sleepy, or have your mind wander. Like this:
Me: *counts from 1 - 100* Me: *says a few affirmations/askfirmations* Me: *counts from 1 - 100* Me: *says a few affirmations/askfirmations*
On a loop until...
Persist in the feel of being in your DR—not focusing on surroundings or senses, just the feeling. Feeling is the secret.
Alternate between steps 2 and 3 until you’re in that relaxed body asleep/mind awake state, OR just straight up hypnogogia tbh. (That is, if you don’t already shift lol)
From there, choose what feels right: shift from a lucid dream, affirm, slip into the void, or just feel yourself in your DR like I do, convince yourself that either you shifted and are there, or are shifting and will end up there.
One thing I’ll tell you now—regardless of your circumstances, how long you’ve been trying, how long it’ll take, who you are, etc—is that you already know how to shift. You, reading this right now. You know how to shift, and there’s nothing you did to learn it. There’s nothing you can do to unlearn it. It’s something that will stay with you until the end of time.
Why do you think people shift randomly without prior knowledge of shifting? Even people who don’t believe in it? It’s because everyone can shift. You can shift.
Right now, stop reading this post and say in your head or out loud, “I already know how to shift.” Or, if that doesn’t feel right, “I already have the ability to shift,” “No matter what, I have the power to shift,” or “My mind knows how to shift no matter what.”
Can you argue that? No, you can’t. And if your mind starts throwing out “buts,” go back and read that again.
Shifting isn’t difficult, and no one struggles to shift. I’m sure you’ve heard it before—that shifting is simple and happens in seconds—because it does. You don’t struggle with shifting. You can shift; everyone has the power to. What you “struggle” with, so to speak, is figuring out what works for you, what your brain likes, how it operates—because everyone is different.
What ended up working for me more than anything was figuring out how I operate and modifying shifting to fit me—not forcing myself to fit shifting.
Will my method work for everyone? I have no idea. Unless you assume it will work for you, this is what works for me. I’m me, and you’re you.
Before you say “Oh, but I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked so far” and expect me to sit here and ask you “but have you really tried everything? <3” , listen to me. 
I could shift perfectly well with my own personal method before I started shifting regularly. I knew it worked well for my brain, but the thing that “blocked” me (so to speak) were my assumptions. 
When you sit there and say “I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked” that’s your assumption about yourself. You believe that nothing works for you, that you don't know how to shift, that you’re this powerless, lost baby shifter who needs guidance. 
There’s nothing wrong with this, it’s not your fault, and theoretically you could shift even with your “blockages” (I really hate that term), as shifting waits for no one.
This is why so many people shift randomly and with poor assumptions without meaning to. But you clicked on this because you want to know how you can shift consistently + on every time, and this is the answer I’m giving you. 
You find out what works better for you, be it affirming, visualizing, scripting, shifting awake, shifting asleep, shifting with hypnagogia, shifting with hypnopompic, shifting through lucid dreams, shifting with brazen impudence, through SATs, robotic affirming, through letting go, through putting your DR on a pedestal, through listening to music, through law of assumption alone, and many more. 
If that sounds overwhelming, please note that all of these are the same vehicles that get you to your destination. Just in different shapes and colors. Like how some people drive a car, others drive a motorcycle, others walk, others swim. The movement forward is always the same. 
What you’re doing, no matter how you’re doing it or in whatever state of consciousness you’re doing it from, will always be:
Assume it's true, feel it, receive it. “Assume and persist,” “ground yourself in the assumption,” you’ve heard it all before. 
How to Find What Makes You Shift On Command
You could either test different techniques (affirmations, visualizations, scripting, lucid dreaming, etc.) and see what feels natural to you. 
You could (and I love this one because it’s a cheat code) Assume you already know what works, and let the law of assumption guide you. “Manifest it” so to speak. 
Pay attention to your life, because you already shift on command, you've been doing it your whole life, but I guarantee you haven't noticed it. Pay attention to you, like how easily you slip into hypnagogia, your dream recall, or how strong your intuition is, maybe you put too much emotion into a scenario you don’t want in your life and it inherently manifests, things like that. Pay attention to the thing that makes you go “huh, that was weird”
“But Clover, I tried everything you mentioned above and still haven’t found my method!” 
My darling. Listen up. Come closer—I’m about to let you in on a secret. The way you apply the law of assumption isn’t one-size-fits-all, because assumptions and beliefs are not linear. It's the same every time, yes, it's a law. But just like you, the way you can use it is unique to each person.
Let me tell you how easy it is so you don't think I'm over-complicating it
You could, for instance, believe you’ve got $1000 in your bank account right now and act like it, fully living in the end. Or you could believe you’re going to have $1000 in your account and act like it’s already on its way. Or maybe you believe something’s going to happen that’ll bring you that $1000.
The same applies to shifting. It’s been a game changer for me. I used to struggle so much with things like:
“You’re already in your DR, just act like it.”
“Ignore the 3D.”
“You’ve already shifted.”
Do those methods work? Absolutely, they work beautifully. But like I said, if it doesn’t feel good or true to you, don’t force it.
My dearest, darling reader. If the story you see in your 3D is that you can’t shift, can’t find what makes you shift, are you just going to sit there and accept it? What is more satisfying? Think with me here: accepting that you don’t know how to shift and cannot shift, or persisting that you do know how to shift? 
“Clover, but I’ve been trying for 4 years! I’ve tried everything and I still haven’t shifted”
So that's your story? Your story, your assumption is that you’ve been trying for 4 years and haven’t shifted? If you’ve resonated with the phrase above, that’s your story. And there’s nothing wrong with it, but! there will be no magic solution for shifting. Or a magic method. Or a person like me giving you advice, that can make you shift without you changing your assumptions first.
“But I don’t want to reprogram my mind! It doesn’t work for me. I don’t want to do robotic affirming 24/7, I want results now!” 
I know, right? It’s annoying having to do these 100-step methods, and drink charged water, and have to beg the universe for your desire, and loop affirmations in your mind that directly contradict what you’re experiencing in the 3D.
“Oh ignore the 3D, the 4D is your only real imagination!” they say, as you sit there, clutching your phone, rocking back and forth in bed, repeating affirmations you don’t resonate with while dreaming of being railed by your S/O.
Believe me, I've been there, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I asked myself why couldn't these basic steps that worked for everyone else work for me. I blamed myself for not trying hard enough, for being lazy, for inconsistent. When all that time, the answer was me. I needed to manifest/shift in a way that felt good for me.
Just remember, the law of assumption isn't complicated, and the way you apply it is not one-size-fits-all. Reprogramming the mind through continuous repetition and affirmation works, and if that resonates with you or feels effective, you should absolutely go for it.
However, at its core, you don’t inherently need to reprogram your mind. It’s as simple as assuming your mind has already been reprogrammed and watching it unfold before your eyes. You do what feels right to you.
For example, if person A does better with visualization and listening to music, why on earth are they affirming and listening to subliminals?
If person B feels better scripting in a notebook, why the hell are they reprogramming their mind?
If person C feels good reprogramming their mind, why are they taking the simple route?
Funny, isn't it? Which is why if you've read all of this so far, and you have not resonated with it, just click away. Go find another post or advice that feels true to you. The words I'm writing right now are not universal, they're not the absolute truth. That's the beauty of the law of assumption. Whatever you believe to be true, becomes true.
I didn’t feel good with the affirmations “I’m already in my DR” and “I already shifted.” Do they work, are they true? Yup, but I didn’t feel good ignoring the 3D, even when I knew the 4D was the true reality. So I swapped them for affirmations like "I'm shifting to my DR", “I’m going to shift to my DR”, swapping things like “I already shifted” to “I’m shifting” because those are the kinds of affirmations my brain loves. 
I've heard a silly bit of misinfo that these affirmations stating future events put you in an infinite loop, and that they don’t make you achieve your desire. That’s not true? At all? Makes me laugh, really. Because here I am, “master shifter” or whatever name people give it in this reality, shifting as much as I want to wherever I want with these types of affirmations.
Yet here I see every day on the internet, people implanting stubborn little rules and regulations to a practice that has been done for ages, a universal law that will work even when you don’t care for it to work. 
How I Shifted The First Time
The law of assumption is what made me shift in the end. Initially, I surprised myself at the beginning of my shifting journey because I shifted three months after starting it. I woke up one morning in my DR room, felt it was real, knew it was possible, but accidentally shifted back because it was too good to be true. 
What followed was a period of losing my mind; I shift back to my DR for a few seconds (mini-shifts), fully shifted to different rparallel ealities, and filled the hell out of shifting journals with my discoveries as I went along. But I never fully shifted to my DR and stayed there. I wanted to permashift. I was so focused on leaving my CR and going to my DR permanently, frustrated because I knew I could shift, knew how to in theory, but was stuck in this endless loop of assuming I couldn't make myself shift and had to rely on spontaneous shifts.
And then one night it clicked when I was reflecting on the law of assumption and reality shifting. I knew shifting was real. I knew I could shift. Everyone can shift. I had shifted before. I would continue to shift even if I gave up on shifting. I could shift that night if I wanted to. I could shift that night even if I didn't want to. I knew how to shift. And so do you.
These are all assumptions I went to sleep with in mind, laying there, feeling like an idiot as it all clicked for me. 
If there was no doubt in my mind that I could shift that night, why wouldn’t I be able to shift? 
What followed was an overwhelming sense of peace washing over me. I let go. What more was there to be done? I could shift. There was no crying or screaming that could make me shift more than I could right then. 
I laid there and started my process. Just like I mentioned earlier. I began counting from 1 - 100 on a continuous loop. With affirmations that I could shift, I knew how to shift , I could shift that night.
And then I reached hypnagogia, and began inducing the feeling of being in my DR, just like I mentioned earlier. That liminal space rabbit hole shortly followed. I could go anywhere I wanted then. I could lucid dream. I could astral project. I could slip into the void. I could shift, and I did. Just…letting go and inducing the feeling of being in my DR. Not the surroundings, not the 5 senses, no affirmations. Just knowing that I was in my Dr. 
It was peaceful. 
I was at ease. 
And then I was woken up by a violent crack of thunder because my dumbass scripted my DR wakeup scenario to be in the middle of spring, and it was raining -_- 
I woke up in my DR, fully grounded, fully there, pinching my skin purple because I couldn't believe I was looking out the window at my DR city.
I wish I could tell you that I remained cool, but I so didn’t. I sat in bed for a good 10 minutes, mouth agape, repeating “oohh fuck it’s real….ohhh my god it’s real…whaaat the hell.” 
And then I paced around my room panicking, giggling like an idiot, checking my DR phone because all my friends and DR life was on there as evidence, opening drawers, looking at myself in the mirror, and straight-up freaking out. 
What followed after that was incredible, something I lack the words to describe. I spent a few weeks in my DR before shifting back, spending a few weeks here and then shifting back–here, back, here, back and forth, spending more time in my DR then my CR to the point where I consider my DR my true reality, and this one as my “other” reality. 
I shifted back here in early December of last year, and I’m here now before I shift back permanently—meaning, I’ll shift there, and then the next time I shift will be to another DR or a waiting room somewhere in the multiverse. I’m taking a "break" so to speak and hanging out here until events I scripted in my DR start to happen, and my life changes (positively, all good things I assure). 
I’m not sure if the person or people who find this post will care, but my other reality was originally called my “Witch DR”, where, as the name suggests, I’m a witch :) But not the fun kind, with a broomstick, a cauldron, and a pet cat though 😂The kind where I have to be up early for work in the mornings, can’t keep a cat because the building I live in doesn’t allow it, and have more responsibilities there than I do in this reality. 
One thing I didn’t expect about shifting before I lived there the first time is that—it’s life. You will have good days. You will have bad days. You will fuck up. You will laugh so hard that soda comes out of your nose. You will cry more than you ever have. And the people you once saw on a TV screen are very real, and can be very annoying lol. I miss my DR friends dearly right now, but I can’t go poking around the internet for videos and pictures of them because it feels so weird. 
Gut feelings are strange. I use them as a compass in both realities whenever I have to manually flap the butterfly’s wings and take a route. I felt compelled to write this post, and I’m not sure why. But if what this post has the power to help one singular person and help them realize their power, I'll be beyond happy.
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tonycries · 11 months ago
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One More? Please? - G.S.
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Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.
Word count. 4.4k
A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.
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“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”
“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”
“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”
You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will. 
“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”
Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.
“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.” 
“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.
Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?
Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it. 
You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.
But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement. 
Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him. 
Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity. 
A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place. 
Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home. 
You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life. 
“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle. 
“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”
You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”
“I already told y-”
“Anything but that.”
With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”
“...”
“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”
You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.
Shit. 
And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. 
“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”
You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”
Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.” 
And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side. 
All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.
“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?” 
You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”
Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”
“Awww. Eight?”’
“No.”
“Five?”
“Satoru.”
Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”
Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”
And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.  
Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.
It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”
Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted. 
“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips. 
“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.” 
His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again. 
Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes. 
“Shit. O-one more.”
Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between. 
Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock. 
“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”
Oh? 
Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-
Oh.
Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might. 
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face. 
“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him. 
“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”
Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt. 
But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman. 
“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin. 
Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.
You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”
And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.
Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night. 
You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.
“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”
The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?
“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?” 
Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”
Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you. 
It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.
Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.
God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue. 
“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”
“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”
A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely. 
Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.
Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”
Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument. 
“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.
But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth. 
“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”
Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face. 
Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.
As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 
Oh, how beautiful he was like this.
“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.
“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.
“One more. It didn’t work.”
Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. 
But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”
The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”
You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick. 
But oh was he pretty - so pretty.  Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.
Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”
Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow. 
“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins. 
And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers. 
Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard. 
Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.
“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”
Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock. 
Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.
Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now. 
As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster. 
Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him. 
“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard. 
Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.
Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”
Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”
Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.
Slam!
You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him. 
You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”
“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”
And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.
You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 
“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”
Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.
“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.
You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-” 
“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.
But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.
“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.
There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”
You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”
Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him. 
But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.
“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.” 
Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”
Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.
In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders. 
“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him. 
And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over. 
With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”
The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.” 
You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours. 
“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”
And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice. 
You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all -  anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.
Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.
You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-
“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”
“Hngh- yes- Toru!”
You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.
And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt. 
“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically. 
It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly. 
Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.
But first…
Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely. 
Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt. 
But no matter. 
Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him. 
Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”
And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips. 
“One more? Please?”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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fairuzfan · 1 year ago
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This post is for the anon who sent me that video asking me to debunk it's claims so they can be better equipped against accusations of antisemitism.
Sorry, I won't post the video since I refuse to have that man on my blog but I can give you common Zionist talking points and the illogicality behind it.
To preface: most of the questions Zionists will ask you are a trap, and will make you fall into a "rabbit hole" (as I was once told when I was younger), as we try to apply their reasoning. My advice is to ALWAYS center the humanity of Palestinians. For example, when a Zionist says:
"Don't Jews deserve a homeland to be safe?"
It fundamentally ignores the core issue: Palestinians are being raped, murdered, and expelled from their homes so that the establishment of this so called "homeland" may exist. When people ask this to you, I personally advise saying something like:
Why must Palestinians suffer for the establishment of this homeland?
Always recenter to the issue at hand—the inhumane removal and treatment of Palestinians.
"Palestine belongs to the Jews and Not Muslims"
The whole premise of this claim is flawed—there is a weird tendency to equate Arab/Palestinian=Muslim when it just is like. Completely untrue. There are Palestinian Christians, Bethlehem is famously a Christian city, who have been there for centuries. There are Palestinian Jews, who have been there for centuries. There are Palestinian Muslims, who have been there for centuries. My grandpa told me stories of how he would turn on lamps for his Jewish neighbors in Al-Khalil (or Hebron) during Shabbat.
To claim that Palestine is EITHER Islamic or Jewish doesn't make any sense and completely neglects the fact that dissemination of culture has occurred for centuries, as well as the intermingling of people throughout generations. To somehow assert that for some reason, Jews and Muslims did not have ANYTHING to do with each other—did not create together, did not build families together, did not build culture together, all while being PALESTINIAN—is incredibly racist and nonsensical. "Palestinian" is not a religious identity—it's a cultural and ethnic one.
Also, it does not negate the core issue—Palestinians are being killed, removed, and tortured so that others can live on that land.
"Well what about [something about partitioning land]?"
Honestly like, who cares about the partitioning throughout the 1900 and early 2000s. Sorry, I'm not going to list the whole "partitioning" history nonsense. The whole reason "Israel" exists is because of a Mass Exodus, murder, and rape of Palestinians. Everything after that is rendered obsolete.
"Well, I heard Palestinians allied with Hitler"
I don't know how to tell you this but Palestine was under British Control. No they didn't.
"Israel withdrew from the Gaza and left them to themselves and they put Hammas in charge"
Oh yeah, Israel totally left Gaza, that's why Gazans' water, electricity, internet, and food is completely controlled by Israel (this is sarcasm, Israel still controls basic life in Gaza).
Go back to centering the idea that no human deserves to be shoved into an open-air prison, starved, and controlled. Did you know that the Zionist Entity controls the amount of water Gazans receive, as well as counting their calories to ensure they don't have enough energy on a day to day basis?
"I heard Israel asked Arabs to stay"
Show them these papers and videos when they say this:
youtube
If you can't show them these videos, check in the next point what to say.
"Well the Palestinians left of their own will in 1948"
Palestinians in 1948 didn't "leave." They had heard of how the Zionist Entity was slaughtering Palestinians en masse. Women especially heard stories of rape and sexual violence. They fled from *violence*. Again, from an earlier post, that this was a calculated effort on the Zionist Entity's part to try and get them to "leave" on their own and "abandon" their houses so that they can come in and say "hey, they left on their own so, we can come in and take their houses now."
Anyways, the idea that once you leave your house you can't ever come back to it is incredibly odd to me as an argument on Zionists' part. Like if you leave your house right now to go to the grocery store and you come back and see someone in your house and they're like "sorry dude, this is my house now, you left so that means you can't come back," you'd be like, "what the hell!" It would be even weirder if everyone agreed with the guy who took your house, which is what happened to Palestinians.
In Al-Khalil, or Hebron, Palestinians always have to have someone stay in their house or else a Settler will come in and take it from them. So it still goes on today as well.
This is not a point, but when that one person in the video said "Arabs lived under Israeli rule" and showed a clip of a bustling city with mountains, I'm pretty sure that was Amman, Jordan, not Palestine lol. Those buildings in the mountains look like how downtown Amman builds the residential areas. Could be wrong tho.
"There are no Jews living under Palestinian rule in Palestine"
What is this, some sort of gotcha argument? What are they trying to prove, the racist (obviously false) notion that Palestinians hate Jews as a whole? How do they know no Palestinian Jew lives in Gaza? Also, Settlers in Palestinian Territory exist??? I had never heard this claim before, its incredibly stupid lol. You're automatically a citizen of "Israel" if you're Jewish, whether or not you live in or outside of Palestinian Territories. So of course technically they don't live under Palestinian rule, they're granted full rights as an "Israeli" citizen automatically!
Go back to talking about the inhumane treatment of Palestinians, I wouldn't bring up the above counterpoint unless they really won't let it go since the main point is mistreatment.
"Why are Christians supporting Israel then, if it's a secular issue rather than a religious one?"
Well actually for a couple reasons:
Oil interests and regional control of goods (White People Supporting White People).
Weird fundamentalist ideology where they want to enact the second coming of Christ.
And finally because they are racist and don't think Arab Christians deserve to live. They literally bombed a 1500+ year church the other day. Why would (White) Christians cosign that.
Anyways, its a stupid argument again, because it forgets the core issue of Palestinians dying and being displaced.
In summary, always go back to the point of centering the Palestinians being displaced, tortured, and murdered, no matter the argument a Zionist gives you.
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I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:
AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?
I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.
For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.
None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.
The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.
He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.
I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."
I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.
Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?
What are these acronyms?
Original post
The update
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ylangelegy · 3 months ago
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hey! i was wondering whether u could write one for this
https://www.tumblr.com/svtsofthours/768410973781524480/mingyu-zoned-out-you-leans-in-and-kisses-him?source=share
just like do not disturb.. 💕 (loved it btw)
💋 none the wiser (mingyu x reader)
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★ footnotes: major shoutout to @svtsofthours for being so chill about me using their posts as prompts lol! mingyu soft hours are perpetually open, i fear. listened to kiss me by sixpence none the richer the entire time. word count: 830~
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It's a Wednesday, and the only thing on Mingyu's mind is where the two of you should go this evening.
Very rarely does he have a day off like this. He can count on one hand the amount of times that practice has been canceled, that a schedule has been postponed. As it is, the stars have aligned to give him this free afternoon.
And who else would he want to spend it with but you?
The sudden freedom has thrown him off-kilter, though, leaving him fumbling for plans. Mingyu reveled in being the date-planner. In getting to smirkingly tell you I got this, baby every time the two of you were supposed to head out.
He's never learned to work with spontaneity, and so he spends half of his time agonizing.
The two of you are lounging in your apartment as Mingyu swears to figure it out. You're sprawled out on the couch, doing one thing or the other, while your legs rest in Mingyu's lap. He's absentmindedly rubbing your ankles with one hand while the other clutches his phone, scrolling through Klook articles of last-minute date ideas.
"Is it cold enough to go ice skating?" he mumbles, his eyebrows drawn together with laser-sharp focus. It's a rhetorical question, really, because before you can answer, he's already grumbling, "No, no, you're too clumsy for that."
"Hey," you protest.
Mingyu gives your ankle an affectionate pat, but keeps on reading.
There's so many things to do. And so little time. When tomorrow comes, he'll be swept back into his busy day-to-day. The two of you might not see each other for another week or so, and the mere thought of it already has his fingers tightening ever so slightly around you.
Mingyu has never particularly thought himself to be a selfish person. He shares almost everything with his members; he'll give what he can to his fans.
You make him greedy. For affection, for attention, for time.
"I can try to get us a reservation at Via Toledo," he muses.
"Too expensive," you whine.
"If it's for you? Never."
"Mingyu."
"Fine, fine."
He scrolls some more. Clicks on to an entirely different article altogether. He doesn't know why he's stressing over this so badly. He knows you, knows you'll be happy with whatever reasonable thing he offers.
He just can't help it. He wants so, so badly to be good for you, to be good to you.
"How about Lotte World?" he tries.
You look up from your own phone with a considering expression, though it's a bit more on the wary side. "Won't there be too many people?" you ask, ever the careful one.
"I can just rent it out for—"
"Baby!"
"Alriiiight."
Mingyu's pouting now, but you're immune to his little displays of petulance and his attempts at grand gestures. You go back to whatever you were reading with a bemused shake of your head.
He tries to focus on the nth Top Seoul Date Places blog post, but his mind has practically turned to mush at this point. He doesn't realize that his eyes are unfocused or that he's barely registering the words on his phone. His head has quite literally emptied out, all of his ideas making no sense. All Mingyu really wants is—
Oh.
He hadn't even noticed you shifting, hadn't picked up on you leaning forward. When your lips press a gentle, sweet kiss to his forehead, he's dragged back down to earth.
Mingyu blinks once, then twice. He looks to you, starry-eyed and smitten.
"What was that for?" he asks, sounding far too dazed for someone who has already received dozens, hundreds of your kisses.
"No reason," you answer. Your rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We don't have to go anywhere, you know."
"We don't?"
"We don't."
"But—"
His protest is cut off by you darting forward to leave another kiss, this time on the corner of his mouth.
"This is enough," you tell him, and the sincerity in your tone is enough to leave him breathless.
And that was it, wasn't it? Mingyu had agonized, Mingyu had zoned out, Mingyu had fallen into near-panic, even, because he had wanted to make himself worth your time. He had wanted to give you the world. Something, anything to show you just how much he adored you.
But he supposes you're right.
"This is enough," he echoes quietly.
You get up from the couch to grab your laptop, announcing that the two of you are going to have a movie marathon. To give Mingyu something to do, you assign him the all-important task of ordering takeout. He rolls his eyes playfully but does as you ask, because you're the light of his life and he will order you the pizza you want if it's the last thing he does.
It's a Wednesday. Mingyu loves you, still.
svtsofthours post ->
Mingyu: [zoned out] You: [leans in and kisses him on the forehead] Mingyu: [blinks and smiles at you with stars in his eyes]
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sourwulf · 4 months ago
Note
stiles comes to you after his female anatomy class and asks you to help. he says he’s never even watched torn so has never even seen a vagina, but yours is the first one he winds up seeing and eating out
༄  word count  —  2.3k
፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski
☓  tw  —  none
⊹  cw  —  smut & oral, losing of virginity
☼  a/n— i have... severely neglected this blog
✎  masterlist
you were sitting on your couch watching tv, a root beer flavored sucker between your lips. you were channel surfing, nothing catching your eye. your front door opened unannounced, making your head whip towards it.
after it closed, the familiar face of stiles poked around the corner.
you sighed, glad it wasn't an intruder.
"hey," you greeted. "ever heard of knocking?"
"sorry, it's raining and the door was unlocked. i figured you wouldn't mind."
he kicked his shoes off and walked over to sit next to you, mimicking your position by crossing his arms.
"what flavor is that?" he asked, looking at the stick in your mouth.
"root beer."
"nice."
"so what's up?"
"i was hoping you could help me study."
"as long as it's not math."
"honestly, i kinda wish it was."
"why? what is it?"
"so... it's for my health class. we're doing a human anatomy course for the sex ed unit."
"and you need my help... why?"
"well... it's female anatomy." you raised your eyebrows. "you're the only person i'm comfortable with asking for help on this."
you just looked at him for a second before taking in a deep breath and turning off the tv.
"alright, fine."
within a couple of minutes you were both upstairs on your bed. you sat against your headboard, him laying on his side horizontal across the bed with his assignment in front of him.
so far, it was just multiple choice and fill in the blank questions. he was reading them out, getting your answers.
"what do the ovaries do?" he asked, a diagram of the uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes above the questions, with lines to label each.
"make hormones and contain eggs."
he skimmed the answers, finding the one that fit that description the best.
once he finished that chart, he flipped the page to see a very detailed diagram of a vagina, also with lines pointing to specific parts of it for him to label.
he looked at it for a moment, as if he was really studying it.
"vulva."
"i'm pretty sure that's just an all-inclusive word to include everything."
he circled the right answer
"what is the... clitoris? did i say that right?"
hearing stiles say the word 'clitoris' was a bit weird, but to be fair most people don't really say the full word.
"are you really asking me what the clit is?"
"yeah, what is it?"
you looked at him slightly in disbelief, chuckling a bit.
"come on, stiles."
"what?"
you were dumbfounded. everyone knows what the clit is.
"you've never even heard the word?"
"i've heard of it, i just don't know what it is."
"it's kind of obvious if you're looking at a vagina."
he shrugged. "never seen one. well, other than this drawing."
now this left you stunned. never seen a vagina? how was it possible for a teenage boy to never have seen one?
"you've watched porn, though."
he shook his head. "nope."
somehow he continued to shock you more with every sentence.
"never?"
"never."
"stiles, you're a teenage boy, and you're telling me you've never watched porn?"
"never needed to."
"the clitoris is... it's like a little bud above the vaginal opening. it's full of nerve endings and it's really only there for pleasure purposes."
"huh. interesting. can i ask you a question?"
"shoot."
"does every vagina look like this?"
"what do you mean?"
"like... are they all identical?"
"uh... no. every vagina is different. just like every penis is different. some of them are dangly, some are hairy, it just depends on the person."
"does yours look like this?"
your eyebrows dipped.
"did you really just ask me that?"
"i thought i was allowed to ask questions."
"yeah, general questions."
"that is a general question."
you sighed. "similar. but not really. i mean, they all have the same basic parts. but the anatomy is different sometimes."
he nodded. "wish i could see a real one up close."
it was kind of funny, how he was talking about vaginas like a specimen he could study.
"you will someday." he made eye contact with you and raised his eyebrows slightly. "stiles. you're not implying what i think you are, are you?"
"i mean... i'm not gonna say no."
"i'm not showing you my vagina!"
"that's not what i was asking, pervert," he said in an unconvincing tone.
to be completely honest, you weren't completely against the idea. the best way to learn was to see the real thing, not just a drawing.
you sighed. "fine." his eyes lit up a bit. "on one condition."
"mm?"
"no touching. only looking."
he nodded.
"sounds fair to me."
you could not believe you were fully exposing yourself to him right now, your vagina just out. your upper body was propped up on your pillows, your knees bent and thighs spread with his eyes glued to you.
"and no judging my lack of shaving."
he shrugged. "doesn't bother me."
he was looking at you like it was a book and he was reading every word.
"this is kinda weird, right?" you asked, trying to break the tension. and trying to distract him from the fact that his gaze was causing you to grow wetter and wetter with every second.
"a little bit, yeah."
"so... my vagina is the first one you've ever seen."
"yep. looks pretty similar to the drawing."
a few seconds of heavy silence went by.
"i mean... it's hard to learn when you're not... hands-on." you mentally slapped yourself for how cringey that sounded.
he froze, looking up into your eyes.
"what?"
"yeah, i mean... how are you supposed to learn what the clitoris is if you don't get to see what it does?"
"oh. i don't- i don't know."
"exactly."
"but you said no touching."
"i know what i said. maybe sometimes it's good to... break rules."
he slowly crawled closer to you and you spread your thighs wider. the cold air against your wetness could've given you chills.
"what... what do i do?" he asked, his face only a couple of inches away.
"see if you can find the words on your paper."
he looked over at it. "labia."
he lightly poked your wet lips — not the ones on your face.
"good."
"was that it?"
"mhm. good job."
"clitoris," he said without looking back at the paper.
"you remembered that one."
he looked around for a second before, without warning, placing the pad of his pointer finger onto your clit, making you take in a deep breath.
"that?"
"yep. right again."
"what do you... do with it?"
it was uncomfortable to explain, especially with a face in your vagina and a finger on your clit.
"uh... lots of things. really it's just different ways of touching it and touching it with different things. so, you could go in circles, back and forth, up and down. you can also use your tongue or some kind of toy. it's another thing that just depends on the person, everyone likes different things."
"what do you like?"
"circles, usually."
with a second of hesitation, he began slowly moving that finger in circles. you let out a breathy moan and closed your eyes, but he stopped.
"was that okay?"
you opened your eyes and looked down at him.
"that was good."
"so... what happens? is there like... an end goal here?"
"orgasm. it's how most women have to get there. sex, like penetration, usually isn't enough to get a lot of us there."
"really?"
"yeah. that's why it's important for our partners to do something other than just regular sex."
"so... do you usually prefer fingers or... a tongue?"
"well... me personally, i usually prefer a tongue. i feel like it's just more intimate."
"and what do you do with the tongue?"
"same thing you would with fingers. circles, back and forth, up and down-"
you were interrupted by a warm tongue on your clit, unable to hold in a gasp. he was going in circles like you said to do, and it was like he knew what to do immediately.
it felt good. you looked down at him to see him returning the gaze, a smirk creeping across his face.
"good, just like that, stiles."
you were doing your darndest to keep your hips still, ensuring he did everything right his first time. he placed his hands atop your thighs, making sure they stayed spread.
you reached up and pushed your hair out of your face, fisting a ball of your own hair. you were moaning, which he wasn't expecting to hear the first time he did this.
"you're doing good, stiles. that feels good."
he didn't answer, but his ego grew a few sizes at that. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more he had to hold you still. his arms were now wrapped around your thighs, his hands flat against your belly.
"fuck, okay, i can feel it coming," you said, looking down at him. "keep going, i'm gonna cum."
when you did look at him, it looked like he was experienced in this. his positioning, his hands, his pace, everything screamed 'i've done this a thousand times before'.
he liked this. being able to make you melt with just his tongue was making him hard, but he couldn't help it. your sweet voice moaning his name was like music to his ears, and the closer you got the louder you became.
your fingers tangled in his hair, trying not to pull too hard.
"don't stop, stiles. i'm almost there. i'll tell you when to stop."
he obeyed, not changing a single thing he was doing. if it hadn't have been so obvious, he might not have known you were cumming.
your back arched sharply, you took in a loud gasp, and your legs were trembling.
this was an incredible orgasm. you were perplexed by his skill, as ten minutes ago he had never even laid eyes on a vagina, much less eaten one out. but he was a quick learner, as you'd figured out from all the werewolf stuff.
"alright, stop, stop," you choked out. he immediately pulled away, using his shirt to wipe his mouth. you closed your legs and reveled in your high. your hand covered your eyes and you struggled to catch your breath.
"was that okay?" he asked innocently.
"are you kidding?" a moment later, you propped yourself up on your elbows. "how did you know how to do that?"
he shrugged. "i just did what you described."
"i've had more than one guy go down on me who was experienced and couldn't make me cum at all. that was, what, two minutes?"
"i guess i'm a natural," he joked.
you tilted your head to the side. "c'mere." you spread your legs again and his eyes widened, slowly following your directions. he held himself above you and you pulled him down to kiss you.
your hand trailed down his chest and landed on his belt, the clanking of the buckle making him pull away.
"what're you doing?" he whispered, looking at your half-closed eyes.
"well... i can see you're rock hard. i just figured, if you're losing your oral virginity, you might as well lose the regular one too."
he gulped hard, not moving.
"oh."
you stopped messing with his belt, furrowing your brow.
"unless you don't want to. you don't have to. don't feel like i'm pressuring you."
he shook his head.
"i don't. it's just... i didn't expect this. i wasn't planning on doing that when i came over, and i definitely didn't expect this. i didn't bring a condom or anything."
"i have some." you reached down and cupped his bulge in your hand, which made him falter a bit. "they might be a bit snug, but they'll fit."
he nodded, and you continued unbuckling his belt. when you got his pants shimmied down a bit and he was exposed to you, you noticed how red his cheeks were.
"what's wrong?"
"nothing. just... i don't want to disappoint you."
"stiles, it's your first time. i'm not expecting you to last past the first thrust." you can tell he took that as an insult. "i didn't mean it like that. no guy lasts past the first thrust during their first time. vaginas are different than hands or socks. i want you to feel comfortable with this. i promise i'm not judging you."
he nodded. "okay."
"if you don't want to have sex yet i could always just blow you instead. you might last longer that way."
"no, i want to do this."
"okay."
you reached over and grabbed a condom out of your nightstand drawer and opened it for him.
"want me to put it on for you?" you asked, to which you received a nod.
the feeling of your hand stroking down on him could've made him cum right then and there. but he wanted to wait until he was at least inside of you.
the feeling of his tip pressing into you was magical for both of you, and once he was fully nestled into you, he pressed a deep kiss onto your mouth.
he didn't move for a moment, wanting this to last as long as possible.
he was a nice size, not small by any means but not the biggest you'd had. he was perfect.
"you okay?" you whispered, pushing his hair off his forehead.
he nodded, the redness in his cheeks spreading to his chest. he slowly pulled out, and let out a loud, shaky moan with the next thrust. him laying his forehead against your chest let you know that he had cum, his arms trembling a bit.
when he looked at you again, he chuckled.
"what?" you asked.
"lasted past the first thrust." you both laughed at that, and you kissed him again. "next time it'll be better."
"next time?" he nodded. "when will that be?"
he thought for a second. "give me a couple of hours."
741 notes · View notes
kiyomitakada · 5 months ago
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i know its a classic. possibly cliche already. but i do wonder about Tumblr In The Death Note Universe probably more than i should
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💅 toxicbff Follow
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if i see one more post attributing kira's powers to ~supernatural powers~ instead of the obvious fact that the cia is doing a coup I'm going to start giving You the heart attacks
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💅 toxicbff
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of course i saw the news how does that not prove my point further
the idea that all the police around the world could be mobilized by one single person is ridiculous (just look at this list of how many civilian militia there are globally)
heart attack victims don't seize the way "lind l tailor" did
i don't know how to tell you that You Can't Kill People Just By Knowing Their Name And Face because this is Real Life and not the newest grimdark marvel villain
people need to stop being scared of the ~bogeyman in the closet~ and wake up to the fact that usamerica is trying to take over the goddamned world
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💅 toxicbff
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im going to kill you all and nuke this website
#sayonara you weeaboo shits
2,925 notes
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👾 lets-go-geeks Follow
DO TRUMP NEXT
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🕵🏾‍♀️ penny-penelope Follow
LIKES TO CHARGE REBLOGS TO CAST
16,375 notes
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❤️‍🔥 lovesickened Follow
i know its stupid but im so fucking scared for my brother i heard that seven people died this week at the prison he's in and iinjust dont kenow what to do ihate him for ehat he did to mom but i never wanted him to die
#vent tw #delete later
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🏎 fastandyurious Follow
if i get a single more comment about why i don't tag "genderbend" on my kiratective fics i'm going to blow up the entire building. we don't know EITHER of their genders. why don't YOU tag your mediocre yaoi genderbend instead
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🔆 sparkling-world Follow
…OP, you realize the news reports all consistently use "he," right?
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🏎 fastandyurious
of course i do???? just because you see something on the news doesn't mean you have to believe it?????? they don't have any information on kira yet but i'm supposed to believe the fbi knows their gender already??????? also kira is literally a fucking girl's name my classmate in elementary school was called kira
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🔆 sparkling-world
Kira comes from the Japanese romanization for "killer," it isn't gendered whatsoever.
Also, evidence shows the majority of serial killers are male, so I'd argue that the statistics favor the fujoshis here.
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🏎 fastandyurious
well evidence shows that female serial killers are just more fun to write about and I'd argue that you're ignoring my fucking POINT which is that we DON'T KNOW KIRA'S GENDER and if people don't want to read lesbian kiratective they can FUCK OFF MY BLOG
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🥚 i-offer-eggman Follow
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I offer you an Eggman in these trying times.
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🔮 I-stands-for-le-gay Follow
@lashitpostcalligrapher yo can i get "the statistics favor the fujoshis" on my tombstone
#fandom: kira rpf #ship: kiral #never heard it called kiratective before… #also uh. prayer circle for op's classmate lmaoooo
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💃🏻 modelingmadness Follow
BOYCOTT EIGHTEEN MAGAZINE
THEY ALLOW KIRA-SUPPORTING MODELS AND ARE COMPLICIT IN THIS MASSACRE
SOURCES HERE AND HERE (TRIGGER WARNING: KIRA DISCUSSION)
PUSH BACK AGAINST HEART ATTACKS
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🧚🏽‍♂️ harubaru Follow
golly gee ^_^ suddenly i feel like taking to the high seas in a way that the eighteen company cant get profit from. oh no ! who left this link here
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🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow
thanks for the link but jesus fucking christ man what happened to free speech. misa-misa's parents were killed by a burglar who kira punished. did you all expect her to just sit there, look pretty, and say nothing about it?
you people only like models when they're nice pictures for you to consume. you only like them two-dimensional and smiling and hot. the second a woman actually speaks her mind she's thrown to the wolves
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💃🏻 modelingmadness
DID YOU NOT SEE MY BANNER YOU PIECE OF SHIT
#BLOCKED
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🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow
lol. lmao even
#they blocked me but whatever #official eighteen site just said misamisa wont be in the next issue #(eighteen sucks but i kind of want to use it more out of spite now) #so much for apologism huh? #god. i feel sick. #hasn't she been through enough.
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🥷🏻 kira-imagines Follow
Imagine you're going home after a long day. Suddenly there's a sound. "Huh? Whose there" you ask, dropping your keys on the floor. Then you feel it. A knife pressing in your neck.
"Don't move kitten" Kira purrs behind you. "You're all mine now…"
#kiraxreader #kiraxoc #kira #kira rpf #kira investigation #kira fucker #kira fudger #kira lover #kira haters dont touch #kira haters please touch #kira supporters please touch #l
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asahi-the-student-deactivated201
Hello, everyone! My little sister told me about this microblogging platform (I admit, I'm a Twitter refugee) and that many of you are discussing the Kira investigation on here. I'm really interested in hearing what your thoughts are!
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💋 sunny-sayu Follow
let the record show he lasted like. a day
#i think it was the imagines that did him in #bro is so sensitive :p
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kiyomitakada
the world could be beautiful
[ @deathnotetober day 14: trigger ]
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neroushalvaus · 1 year ago
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Okay I am going to use the Somerton situation to talk about something that is very important to me. Following the discussion I have seen former Somerton fans being disappointed in themselves and questioning how they can ever trust another video essayist again. I have also seen some people being smug because to them Somerton was obviously unreliable from the start. As a person who also saw the "red flags" in Somerton, I would like to skip the smugness and talk a bit about what the red flags were to me.
Someone else has probably posted something similar and Hbomberguy's & Todd in the Shadows's videos touched a few of these points, but they didn't focus on them or how to spot these things. I think it is a good thing: I think it would have reinforced the idea that Somerton's fans were to blame for being lied to, and these youtubers didn't want to pin any blame on the fans. Also, some of the things I'm going to talk about were not by any means proof of him being unreliable, they were common tropes I personally associate with people who are bullshitting on internet. Think of it as something like spotting terfs: If you consider following a tumblr user and find out they have at some point posted "males will always be a danger to females no matter what they say", it is very possible that they are not a terf. Maybe they were having a bad day and were just wording their post badly – But you should probably search "trans" from their blog before following them, just to be sure.
So, the tropes in James Somerton's content that I consider red flags:
Lack of sources. This one may seem obvious and Hbomb talked about this in his video, but the lack of sources in his videos was outrageous. Video essays are called essays for a reason, they are not supposed to be just a guy talking about whatever comes to his mind, they should be well researched essays. Obviously video essays should contain one's own thoughts and interpretations and those do not need citations. But James Somerton didn't come out of the womb knowing everything about LGBT history, Disney and film theory, if he actually knew something about all this stuff, he should have learnt it from somewhere. There should be sources he could point to. It is very common that even when a video essayist doesn't tell you where they got all their information, they open their video by saying stuff like "when I prepared for this video I read the book Also sprach Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche and this one thrilling blog post about lesbian cruising in 1960s Sweden". From what I've seen, James does not really do this. From watching his videos you could arrive to the conclusion that James Somerton does not read any books, he just knows everything. There are situations where people don't feel the need to add sources, like when the information is considered common knowledge or when the topic relates heavily to the essayist's actual academic field or profession. This is okay and very understandable, but can sometimes be dangerous, since if the video essayist markets himself as a marketing specialist, people are more likely to take his word for stuff that has to do with marketing, even without sources. It is understandable that in many situations an essayist may think "why should I cite a source? I know this thing!", but doing your research well is partly about checking if the information you are certain of is actually true. Also, as Hbomb pointed out, if you can cite a source, your audience can go learn more about the subject. It's not about anyone doubting you know your stuff, it's about learning. That's why well-respected video essayists usually cite their sources very clearly.
Lack of pictures and screenshots. This is about different kinds of sources again, many things on this list are kind of about sources. An example: When James Somerton made a video about JKR, he mentioned something about Rowling at one time saying that trans students in 30-50Feralhogs (or whatever the wizard school is called) could use magic to present as their gender. If this was any other video essayist, you'd expect a tweet to pop up, or something else confirming Rowling ever said this. Nothing pops up, obviously because Rowling didn't say this, but you can't see anything fishy in that because things rarely pop up in Somerton's videos. He doesn't show you court documents when speaking about a court case, he doesn't show you the comments apparently mad at him for implying the gay anime is gay when he is complaining about people being mad at him. There is a reason people show screenshots and tweets in video essays. When a good video essayist says JK Rowling has tweeted that all people who menstruate should be referred to as women, the video essayist shows the tweet so people know they are not making it up. If there were hoards of annoying bitc-- I mean, angry white women whining about gay sex in HuffPost articles or Somerton's youtube comments, he should have no trouble showing you those. Remember that you should not trust someone just because they show you pictures or screenshots. Pictures can be photoshopped, screenshots can be doctored. Many youtubers are aware that you listen to their videos while cleaning or while walking your dog and don't actually see the screen all the time, and some may take advantage of that by saying something like "and here she threatened to kill me" while showing a text message where someone said "die mad about it". A screenshot alone isn't much but you should demand to see the screenshot.
Passive voice. I am once again bitching about this. Somerton repeatedly says things like "it's been said that" or "it was common knowledge that" or "a legend says that" or "according to most interpretations". He doesn't say who says it, making it very hard to fact check and that seems to be his goal in some cases.
Relying heavily on anecdotes. Writing a dense, analytical video about film theory or history can be exhausting and you may want to pepper in little fun facts. However Somerton seemed to rely on these heavily; he can't just talk about how he has totally bought every lie told by The Pink Swastika, he also needs to tell a cute little anecdote about SS men forcing sexual favours out of men. He can't just tell a story about a court case, he needs to add in ridiculous stuff about the jury booing. This is what I mean by not all the things on this list being necessarily proof of someone being unreliable. Many people use anecdotes and little stories in their storytelling, it makes the videos flow better and it's hard to decide which anecdotes are valid and which are not. A source obviously makes an anecdote a bit more believable, but here are some things that instantly make me fact check an anecdote:
It's a bit too convenient, poetic or ironic. Sometimes real life is weirder than fiction but if an anecdote is "perfect" and has an amazing punchline and you could write twelve poems about it, there is a possibility it was invented by pop science books.
It assumes your political enemies are stupid. Dunking on conservatives, MRAs and transphobes is always fun and after you've seen a lot of this kind of content it's easy to believe anything about these people. You must resist the impulse to believe everything that may make your opponents look stupid.
The person telling the anecdote implies it is an example of a larger, systemic problem. You know what's worse than taking a random happenstance from human history or internet and basing an entire political theory on it? The said random happenstance being made up. You should in general be wary of people telling one story and explaining why it's an example of everything that's wrong in the world. We live in a huge world. You can always find a white woman who loves cute gays but hates the idea of Nick Heartstopper and Charlie Heartstopper getting nasty but that doesn't mean it's an indicator of a larger issue.
Simplifying complex issues. We all know that "only the boring gays survived the AIDS crisis, and that's why gays started to only care about marriage equality and military" is a horrible, insensitive thing to say, but you also have to think about it for like two seconds to realize that it can't be correct. It kind of reminds me of the "roe v wade caused the crime drop of 1990s" claim in Freakonomics. It sounds logical and simple, like a basic math calculation. Societal issues rarely are like that, though. You should never believe anyone who tells you about a huge societal shift and says it happened because of one thing and one thing only.
These were some of the things I noticed in Somerton's content that caused me to distrust him. I hope these were helpful to you and feel free to add your own "red flags" if you feel like it!
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randomreasonstolive · 6 months ago
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Hello there all you lovely shining stars.
N here, with some pretty bad news...
(I'll put it behind a cut to avoid triggering anyone)
C is the person who actually runs this blog. He works tirelessly to make sure this blog always, ALWAYS has reasons in the queue in advance, just in case. There's currently over a month prepared, because he loves y'all, loves this blog, and loves to put in the time to help people.
C is a full-time care giver. At work, he care gives for three wonderful elderly ladies. When he gets home, he care gives for me, N, as I am disabled. And then, in his spare time, he care gives for y'all by working hard on this blog.
C is the most wonderful, amazing person I know, and it really baffles me that something like this could happen to someone like him.
Recently, C was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.
We unfortunately live in America, where getting diagnosed with Cancer means a massive financial burden. Up until this point we've been doing very good financially, which has been a wonderful switch up from years ago, when we had to ask our community for help just to pay rent.
Now, I worry about our ability to afford things like food, basic needs, and rides to and from the hospital (we don't drive). His insurance company is refusing to pay for his treatment (yes, they're refusing to pay for CANCER treatments), and the minimal paid leave he is eligible for has had it's processing delayed.
Basically, we're financially struggling all over again, because C has cancer, and we live in America.
So what does this mean for y'all?
Well, as I mentioned, C always has the blog filled out ahead of time. He will absolutely make sure that the queue doesn't run out, so y'all don't have to worry about that.
I unfortunately do feel the need to reach out and ask for your help. It pains me to be put in this position again after years of not having to ask for help, but the current circumstances have really hit us hard.
So, what can you do to help?
Well,
Here is our Amazon wish list, if you'd like to help that way. We currently have some food and necessities on there;
Amazon Wishlist
Or, our paypal account is [email protected]
Currently, our biggest need is a new mattress, which is where any funds that go to our paypal will be headed.
C's cancer is the worst in his hips and our current mattress is such poor quality that I have to sleep on the floor. His doctors have insisted that good rest is important for him to heal, and he hasn't been getting very good rest on our current mattress. He wakes up every morning in more pain than he would if we had a good mattress, so getting one is our main goal.
I am so, so sorry to tell you all this bad news. C really didn't want to burden any of you with this, which is why I'm the one making this post.
We both love you all so, so much. Thank you to every single one of you for existing, you matter so much to us and to everyone who follows this blog.
~N
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killuakiru · 3 months ago
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hiiii!! omg ive been SCOURING for a hxh blog for a while bro there’s barely any that’s active 😭😭 could i request dating hcs for the main four? ty!! :3
YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN !! I've been waiting for a main 4 request !! I CAN FINALLY POST intrams r coming to a close so praise the lord 🙌 I promise I am working yall
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⊹₊⋆ Lovey-Dovey!ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
⊹₊⋆ Gn!Reader x K.Zoldyck, G.Freecss, L.Paradinight, K.Kurtaᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
༉‧₊˚. Start !༉‧₊˚.
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༉‧₊˚. Killua Zoldyck !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
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• Let's start with some pre-dating head canons !
• Honestly, seeing Killua's personality, he'd be really low-key about it and casual for some reason..
• You literally wouldn't think he likes you to that extent, but your label as his "best friend" Says numbers to him.
• Killua definitely confessed during his vulnerable moments, having a solemn and sad expression as he spoke. "The way you treat me compares to no other, but.. With my background, can I really be with someone so pure?"
• His words left you perplexed. What did his words mean at this current situation? "What are you saying..?" You mumbled with a raised eyebrow.
• "I'm saying I like you." Killua mumbles, a tint of irritation and vulnerability in his tone as he sighs.
• Post-dating head canons !
• The whole week you've been dating, everything was low-key. You were both casual with hints of romantic teasing gestures from him.
• Killua isn't the clingy or touchy type, but he'd always snake an arm around your shoulder and let you lean your body against his if he wants to feel your presence.
• Additionally, if he's feeling protective or in a scenario where you guys are in an unknown territory, he'll hold your hand and guide you.
• Killua isn't also the one to say direct praise, since he's known for not saying a simple gratitude to his friends, so he just gives you a small smile or nod of acknowledgement.
• The ways he shows his affection– is simply with the small actions he does. Whether it's the smallest. Placing a hand on your back and rubbing it, making you link your arm in his, and other stuff.
• Also, Killua absolutely LOVES admiring your expression or your appearance in general. His favorite thing to constantly look at? Your eyes. He probably thinks it's super cliche, but; he's simply a sucker for em. He loves seeing your true feelings and the bright shine of your eyes, it makes him fall for you again and again.
• His favorite activities he loves doing with you is probably just to spend quality time. Walking around the forest, sitting around a bond fire with your group, and more. That's his ideal.
• While Killua isn't verbal about his affection, you can easily tell that this boy is deeply in love with you and your whole being.
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⊹₊⋆ Gon Freecss !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
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• Gon is and would probably be the clingy type AT THE RIGHT TIME.
• He vocalizes his feelings a lot! Even an idiot would know that you're his beloved!
• "yn!! How're you doing?! Hope you're doing great!! I love you a bunch!" That's almost your wakeup call at this point.
• Pre-dating scenarios !!
• With how sweetly he treats other people in general, you assume that in a scenario where Gon is in a relationship he won't be that serious.
• But ohhh boy were you proved wrong when he confessed.
• "Did you know? I really like you. You're an amazing person.. You're super nice and everything, so uh.." He sheepishly confessed, rubbing his nape with a soft smile on his face.
• He seemed so genuine with his words, and we all know that Gon is honestly such a bad liar.
• Post Dating head canons !!
• my GOD does this boy give random trinkets.
• Oh he saw a flower while Killua and he was walking? Boom, flower crown. Oh he found a twig that formed into a heart shape? Boom it's in your possessions now.
• In contrast to everyone, Gon's super adventurous; his favorite activities he'd do with you is to travel around the world, a more realistic idea is travel to a place where you both haven't gone to yet.
• Gon isn't all that clingy as well, again– Gon is pretty clingy at the right time.
• The said "right time" is where he sees you after such a long time. Pulling you into a long and warm hug with hushed words of assurance from your tongue, Gon feels absolutely loved.
• He loves your whole being so much, he'll absolutely cherish every moment with you.
• His favorite thing about you isss I would say.. Your emotions, probably. Your emotions are his kinda! Seeing you down, he's also down. Seeing you happy brings a bright smile to his face, and he'll relish every happy moment with you.
• Gon will always and never forget to say a reminder that he'll forever love you to his heart's content. He'll never fail to voice his feelings, why would he? He knows you love him as well, and the affection he has for you is immeasurable.
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༉‧₊˚. Kurapika Kurta !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
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• Ouu this guy.. He irritates me to no end.
• He is SO quiet with his feelings and he's so naturally distant, naturally you'd also distance yourself from him.
• Why would you even try?! Clearly, he's "uninterested" And wants to keep things casual. Of course, this pains you because you really want to take things higher.
• Months passed, he started growing busy with his job as a Bounty Hunter. You thought you could use this as an opportunity to move on!
• But y'know what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder.
• Both sides missed each other dearly, with no one to chat with and share their inner feelings, yn soon grows lonely.
• With no one to listen to and have no company of the one he trusts the most, Kurapika grew regretful.
• When they both met again, Kurapika didn't hesitate to cup your hands ever so gently with a look of subtle desperation in his eyes.
• "yn.." He softly calls, his voice was like a thousand melodies that sang only for your ears to hear. His expression was so very vulnerable, it made you love him more.
• "I'm so sorry." He apologizes, removing his hands from yours and gently pulling you into a hug, placing a firm yet soft hand on your scalp and having an arm wrapped around your shoulder.
• Everything escalated from there, and in a hypothetical situation, you became a Bounty Hunter too! ( if you had no plans for the other Hunter titles )
• His favorite activities to do with you is to lounge around, read a book with your fingers intertwined and have you leaning on him for support.
• With you, Kurapika believes he can achieve the life he wants. After gathering the scarlet eyes of his clan.
• Kurapika's loyalty lies with you and no one else, rest assured. He can forever guarantee your safety if you're with him.
• Similarly to Killua, Kurapika isn't vocal about his affection. But he would whisper a soft "I love you." And a "I'm sorry I can't be there for you."
• Kurapika is known to be really distant, so you have to be patient with him. And he loves you so dearly. Imagine loving someone so hard to love? Kurapika believes he was truly blessed to have a significant other like you.
• His favorite thing about you is your voice, no doubt. He can listen to your emotions even when he has his eyes closed.
• Kurapika isn't one to trust easily, so seeing him close his eyes to listen to you?? It's an achievement. He's basically lowering his guard and trusting you with his life in a literal sense!
• Additionally, he loves watching you do your hobbies. The way your lips form into a smile filled with purity, the complete opposite of what he does. The way your laugh sounds like an elegant butterfly garden– it was a weird way to explain it. But in other words; ethereal.
• You'll forever, and I mean EVER be the love of his life, the light of his life, his everything. He'll sacrifice a lot for you, and that's a given.
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⊹₊⋆ Leorio Paradinight !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
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• Ah, yes. This man.
• Low-key? Not in his vocabulary. He likes you? Oh it's painfully obvious– well I mean it's not like he's trying to hide it, really..
• It's amazing how you two clicked! Leorio with his very odd-feminist tendencies is... Eh.
• But hey! You two worked it up in the end, and he's madly in love with you. That's great, really!
• Leorio LOVES to flaunt you off. "Look at them! My gorgeous soul mate!" He exclaims with heart eyes, leaving you baffled at his volume and growing embarrassed at the amount of looks you're getting.
• Yeah! He always says an exaggerated "I love you!" In many instances, Leorio will alwayssss give you a lil smooch somewhere on the face.
• Honestly, Leorio isn't ashamed at all. Why would he? He'll freely show his affection to the one he views his soul mate– someone who is destined to be bound to each other.
• Despite Leorio's reputation, he's quite a gentleman. He's willing to sacrifice a lot of his time for you, and mind you– time is crucial for medic students.
• He respects your boundaries more than anyone else's. If he accidentally crosses the line with one of them, he'll give a genuine apology and makes it clear that those weren't his intentions at all.
• Leorio's favorite activity to do with you varies– he lovesss taking you out on small lil dates, like library dates to just sit in silence and bask in each other's presence, or an extraordinary one where he'll take you to a club and have fun.
• He ends up passing out drunk leaving you to take care of him and listen to his endless complaints the next morning– but he repays you by being extra nicer the next day.
• His favorite thing about you would be– well, your torso. NOT IN THAT WAY.
• It's simply his favorite because he can easily snake his arms around you despite your size.
• He's.. Well, clingy. He loves lovesss having his hands around you. He refuses to keep his hands to himself if you're around.
• But all in all, Leorio's a great person. He's willing to drop everything he has to heal you if you're in pain or try to find something for you. He's that committed, I promise.
༉‧₊˚. End !༉‧₊˚.
Thank you for reading ! This strictly belongs to me / killuakiru and I do not give permission for you to repost on other platforms, thank you !
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supersoakerfullofblood · 1 year ago
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Point of View: the Biggest Thing You're Missing!
Point of view is one of the most important elements of narrative fiction, especially in our modern writing climate, but you rarely hear it seriously discussed unless you go to school for writing; rarely do help blogs or channels hit on it, and when they do, it's never as in-depth as it should be. This is my intro to POV: what you're probably missing out on right now and why it matters. There are three essential parts of POV that we'll discuss.
Person: This is the easiest part to understand and the part you probably know already. You can write in first person (I/me), second (You), and third person (He/she/they). You might hear people talk about how first person brings the reader closer to the central character, and third person keeps them further away, but this isn't true (and will be talked about in the third part of this post!) You can keep the reader at an intimate or alien distance to a character regardless of which person you write in. The only difference--and this is arguable--is that first person necessitates this intimacy where third person doesn't, but you still can create this intimacy in third person just as easily. In general, third person was the dominant (and really the only) tense until the late 19th century, and first person grew in popularity with the advent of modernism, and nowadays, many children's/YA/NA books are written in first person (though this of course doesn't mean you can't or shouldn't write those genres in the third person). Second person is the bastard child. Don't touch it, even if you think you're clever, for anything the length of a novel. Shorter experimental pieces can use it well, but for anything long, its sounds more like a gimmick than a genuine stylistic choice.
Viewpoint Character: This is a simple idea that's difficult in practice. Ask yourself who is telling your story. This is typically the main character, but it needn't be. Books like The Book Thief, The Great Gatsby, Rebecca, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the Sherlock series are told from the perspective of a side character who isn't of chief importance to the narrative. Your viewpoint character is this side character, the character the reader is seeing the world through, so the main character has to be described through them. This isn't a super popular narrative choice because authors usually like to write from the perspective of their most interesting character, but if you think this choice could fit your story, go for it! You can also swap viewpoint characters throughout a story! A word of warning on that: only change your viewpoint character during a scene/chapter break. Switching mid-scene without alerting the reader (and even when you do alert the reader) will cause confusion. I guarantee it.
Means of Perception; or, the Camera: This part ties the first two together. If you've ever heard people talk about an omniscient, limited, etc. narrator, this is what they mean. This part also includes the level of intimacy the reader has with the viewpoint character: are we in their heads, reading their thoughts, or are we so far away that we can only see their actions? If your story is in a limited means of perception, you only have access to your character's head, eyes, and interpretations, where an omniscient narrator sees through all characters' heads at once. (This doesn't eliminate the viewpoint character--most of your writing will still be in that character's head, but you're allowed to reach into other characters' thoughts when needed. You could also be Virginia Woolf, who does fluidly move through everyone's perspectives without a solid viewpoint character, but I would advise against this unless you really are a master of the craft.) Older novels skew towards third person omniscient narration, where contemporary novels skew towards first person limited. You also have a spectrum of "distant" and "close." If omniscient and limited are a spectrum of where the camera can swivel to, distant and close is a spectrum of how much the camera can zoom in and out. Distant only has access to the physical realities of the world and can come off as cold, and close accesses your character's (or characters', if omniscient) thoughts. Notice how I said narration. Your means of perception dramatically effects how your story can be told! Here's a scene from one of my stories rewritten in third-person distant omniscient. The scene is a high school football game:
“Sometimes,” he said. “Not much anymore.” “It’s not better, then?” She shivered; the wind blew in. “A little.” His tone lifted. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be better, though.” She placed a hand on his arm, stuttered there, and slipped her arm around his waist. “Did it help to be on your own?” He raised an eyebrow. “You were there.” “Yes and no.” “And the guys, the leaders.” “Come on,” she heckled. “Okay, okay.” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, it helped. I don’t think—I don’t know—I’d be me if they’d fixed it all.” She grinned. “And who might you be?” “Oh, you know. Scared, lonely.” He fired them haphazardly, and a bout of laughter possessed him which Piper mirrored. “Impatient.” “And that’s a good thing?” “No.” He sat straight. “Gosh, no. But I don’t want to be like him, either.” He pointed to the field; Devon recovered a fumbled ball. “He’s never been hurt in his life.” She met his eyes, which he pulled away. “You don’t mean that," Piper said. “Maybe not. He’s too confident, though.” The cloth of Carmen's uniform caved and expanded under Piper's fingers.
With distant-omniscient, we only get the bare actions of the scene: the wind blows in, Piper shivers, the cloth rises and falls, Carmen points, etc. But you can tell there's some emotional and romantic tension in the scene, so let's highlight that with a first person limited close POV:
“Sometimes,” he said. “Not much anymore.” “It’s not better, then?” Frost spread up from her legs and filled her as if she were perforated rock, froze and expanded against herself so that any motion would disturb a world far greater than her, would drop needles through the mind’s fabric. A misplaced word would shatter her, shatter him. “A little.” His tone lifted. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be better, though.” She placed a hand on his arm, thought better, and slipped her arm around his waist. “Did it help to be on your own?” He raised an eyebrow. “You were there.” “Yes and no.” “And the guys, the leaders.” “Come on,” she heckled. “Okay, okay.” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, it helped. I don’t think—I don’t know—I’d be me if they’d fixed it all.” She grinned. “And who might you be?” “Oh, you know. Scared, lonely.” He fired them haphazardly, and a bout of laughter possessed him which Piper mirrored. “Impatient.” “And that’s a good thing?” “No.” He sat straight. “Gosh, no. But I don’t want to be like him, either.” He pointed to the field; Devon recovered a fumbled ball. “He’s never been hurt in his life.” “You don’t mean that.” She spoke like a jaded mother, spoke with some level of implied authority, and reminded herself again to stop. “Maybe not. He’s too confident, though.” Piper felt the cloth of his waist cave and expand under her fingers and thought: is this not confidence?
Here, we get into Piper's thoughts and physical sensations: how the frost rises up her, and how this sensation of cold is really her body expressing her nervous fears; how she "thought better" and put her arm around his waist; her thought "is this not confidence?"; and how she reminds herself not to talk like a mother. Since I was writing from the close, limited perspective of a nervous high schooler, I wrote like one. If I was writing from the same perspective but with a child or an older person, I would write like them. If you're writing from those perspectives in distant narration, however, you don't need to write with those tones but with the authorial tone of "the narrator."
This is a lot of info, so let's synthesize this into easy bullet points to remember.
Limited vs. Omniscient. Are you stuck to one character's perspective per scene or many?
Close vs. Distant. Can you read your characters' thoughts or only their external worlds? Remember: if you can read your character's thoughts, you also need to write like you are that character experiencing the story. If child, write like child; if teen, write like teen; etc.
Here's another way to look at it!
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This is a confusing and complex topics, so if you have any questions, hit up my ask box, and I'll answer as best I can. The long and short of it is to understand which POV you're writing from and to ruthlessly stick to it. If you're writing in limited close, under no circumstances should you describe how a character other than your viewpoint character is feeling. Maintaining a solid POV is necessary to keeping the dream in the reader's head. Don't make them stumble by tripping up on POV!
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idorelyss · 2 months ago
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SORRY, I'M SO STUPID | S.LOHMANN¹²
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summary: you're an idiot who lost the love of your life. somehow, you get her back.
contains: sydney lohmann x bayfcplayer.ᐟreader, exes to lovers, mentions of relationship insecurities, sorta messy timeline, mentions of concussion/injury, jealousy, jealous.ᐟreader, sydney got the patience of a saint, they're inlove your honor, some angst with fluff
word count: 6.0k
author note: first fic on this blog, hopefully you cool ppl in my phone like it. lil warning for the fic going from past tense to present tense alot, that's the point. i tried a slightly different writing style doing this so let's hope it eats. enough yapping, enjoy ❤️ p.s. this is a lyrics fic.
PLAYING THINGS I WISH YOU SAID BY SABRINA CARPENTER
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baby, sorry, i left you in the dark. i always reach for your leg over there on your side of the car
you are really fucking stupid. at least, that's what you have been telling yourself for the past two months.
you're in your car, on your way to deyna's party. of course, san jose traffic is packed and going at snail speed, leaving you with time to think many thoughts. way too many thoughts.
thoughts that are mainly involving a pretty, german blonde who used to be yours at one point. she would still be yours right now if you didn't end things impulsively.
what did your parents say when you were a teenager about how social media is poison? you are slowly starting to agree because you let opinions circulating around social media and your insecurities end a good thing. now the one person you didn't want to hurt in this life is hurt and you're hurting alongside her.
you almost want to forget about her, but who could forget about sydney?
that's why when you change lanes to reach your exit on the highway, your hand automatically goes to the passenger seat to reach for a thigh that isn't there.
right. she's in germany, not here.
you're so fucking stupid.
baby, everything reminds me of you. nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks i'm fucking rude
being at practice reminds you so much of sydney. it makes sense, you both are professional players. so of course your day is riddled with memories of sydney.
arriving at the training facility reminds you of that time sydney told you she tripped coming into bayern's training building, and she was teased for days.
going through drills has you thinking about when sydney whined on the phone everyday about her legs and feet hurting after practice.
time in the gym, doing your cardio is not that different from the days where sydney and you would workout out together. getting a sweet treat right afterward.
so, by the time training is over, you are ready to get dressed quickly in the locker room and duck out to go drown in your self-pity and regret at home. it's too bad that even the locker room reminds you of sydney or the lack thereof.
“why are you changing so fast? trying to run away from those bad shots you made?” jen jokes, coming to sit by you at your cubby.
you look at her, your hands still occupied tying your shoe. “you cannot be talking after the amount of times you fell. your age catching up to you?” you say in a similar joking tone with a side of deadpan,
or so you thought as everyone looks at you like you're crazy.
“i was just playing around, chill,” jen says. her words confuse you and so does the reactions of your other teammates.
did your joke have venom that you were unaware of behind it? or did you say it more on the side of deadpan than joking?
all you know is that sydney would have laughed at that. she would be giggling so hard, her face would get all red. then she would have thrown an even better insult right back at you.
you really miss her.
when i saw you cry, i didn't handle it well. without you here, i don’t know what to do with myself.
your nights have been so boring ever since you broke up with sydney. the same routine: get home, shower, water the plants, eat dinner, and then spend an hour or two scrolling on social media trying to fight the urge to stalk sydney's page.
you had blocked the blonde back when you two first broke up. you remember how klara texted you about how that's “childish and just hurts you both more.” she's right, of course, but who's going to tell her that? not you. not after you made a whole big deal about moving on and focusing on your career.
moving on doesn't even seem right. that's for people who were heartbroken by chance, not on purpose. it's not for people who hurt themselves by ending something that was good and stable because they couldn't get out of their own head.
still, as you lay there and scroll, your entire being craves for what used to belong to it.
you desire sydney's warmth.
you miss sydney's scent.
you are hungry for sydney's kisses.
you need to be held down by the weight of her body on top of yours.
instead, you are being weighed down by the pain you inflicted upon her. haunted by the sight of tears filling up in her eyes the day you ended everything and walked away. the unanswered text messages she left you the following night after she got drunk. the single text that followed the morning after that,
those were mistakes. ignore them.
everything blares in your head like an alarm that never stops. a clock that is broken, but not because it doesn't sound off but because it continues to sound off even if you want it to stop. there is no snooze for your regret, not with the way your dreams are filled to the brim with thoughts of sydney, too.
i think about these things at night before i fall asleep. things i wish you said to me.
syd's barely affectionate with her.
they don't give off girlfriends vibes.
sydney is more cuddly with her friends than her own girlfriend.
wonder when they are going to break up.
it's not going to last.
you reread the comments that led to your self inflicted suffering in the first place. the noodles in front of you on the table have run cold and your appetite is halfway gone at this point anyways.
social media has never been a big part of how you move throughout the world. you love to doomscroll, and of course, you have your favorite creators across platforms. you know about different trends and internet slang. duh, you aren't thirty. but you never used to let social media dictate how you interact with people outside of it. social media is full of algorithms and echo-chambers made to take over people's thoughts. forcing them to stay on apps longer than needed to look for solutions for problems that have been caused by said apps.
that's always how you felt.
but even you fell into the trap of social media. early in your relationship with sydney, you were too in the honeymoon phase to think about looking at socials. too wrapped up in sydney. however, when you two calmed down into a just as in love but more controlled state, your mind started wandering.
wondering what people are saying about you two. do they find you two cute? couple goals? were there fanpages for your relationship?
other players who are in relationships often have these things, so why wouldn't you guys have those as well?
what you didn't expect to find was people overanalyzing the way sydney and you interacted in public. for people to wonder if you guys are even in love.
“they don't see me when i'm with you. they don't know how attached i am to you every second we are alone,” sydney said when you brought up your growing insecurity. she was smiling all sweet, sitting on top of you.
how could you not believe her with the way she's kissing the frown off your lips?
your insecurities still grew and grew and grew until they became a hill. a hill, you weren't able to climb over.
they don't know how sydney loves wearing your clothes around and outside of the house because she's obsessed with your smell. they don't know about all the nights she cuddled into your side, basically glued to your skin. they aren't there on the days you were in sydney's apartment, cooking and dancing with her. they don't see the way she is all over you when you two are alone.
yeah, she wasn't super affectionate in public but that's only because she got so shy every time you showed her any love.
fans online didn't know about any of that, but you wish they did. you wish you didn't put so much value into their opinions because you probably would still have sydney in your grasp right now if you didn't.
if only you came to sydney about this more. the german player would rush to do anything that would make you feel better, more secure. but no, you just couldn't because you were afraid she would be annoyed you kept bringing the topic up after she reassured you the first time.
sydney would have never done that and you knew that.
that wrongful thought was influenced by that stupid hill in your head that was built on tons and tons of mean comments. the weariness of long distance fueled the comments impact on your mind deeply. getting reassured over the phone wouldn't be as satisfying as in person, so you never brought up the topic again and everytime you were with sydney, you didn't want to ruin the moment so again you didn't say a word. all of this created a hamster wheel you couldn't get out of.
you get up from the table, throwing your noodles away. they are too cool to eat now, and reheated noodles do not sound appetizing.
slipping into bed, your mind thinks back to the past over and over again until it tires itself out enough that you drift off to sleep.
things like “darling, i hope you know it scared me to death. the night that your sister said you got into an accident.”
number that SHOULD be blocked
i'm so sorry about your injury
when i saw you go down, my heart fell to my ass
i hope you have good ppl around you to take care of you ❤️
contact changed to sydney
you
i do
thanks for texting
sydney
….
yk i'm here for you too, right?
ik we broke up and aren't supposed to talk but
i'm just rlly worried about you
your heart feels like it's beating at 100 miles per hour. first, sydney texts you then second, she's worried about your injury and third, she wants to fucking be there for you.
is this a dream? have your wishes to get her back finally come true?
you look at the text, pondering what to send back. an immediate yes would be too desperate, right? but you are desperate for her you think to yourself.
fuck it, just say yes.
right when you are about to text back, sydney beats you to it.
sydney
there's no pressure
i know we haven't talked in forever
how is she being so considerate when you're the one who broke her heart?
you
i want you
sydney
??
you
i mean i want you to be there for me
can we talk pls?
be friends or whatever you want
sydney
duh
i'm the one who offered
there go the other side of sydney that you know and love.
“and god, i, i'm watching everything that you do. i can't get your songs out of my head or your hair out of my room.”
sydney and you have been texting back and forth everyday since that day she texted you. anyone looking from outside the situation would said it's heading straight for disaster. exes texting regularly again? especially when one is still very much inlove with the other? a speeding train just waiting to crash.
to that, you would say they don't understand. there isn't no tension or lingering resentment or anger between sydney and you while yall talk. that truth surprises you considering the fact you basically dumped sydney four months ago. if the roles were reversed, you wouldn't want to see her ever again, but somehow sydney's heart is overflowing with so much love that she doesn't have room to hate you.
she checks up on your well-being pertaining to your head injury. the recovery so far has been slow, very slow. you aren't even in rehab yet, still stuck at home resting and sleeping throughout the day. thankfully, your parents flew to san jose to come take care of you.
when you aren't sleeping, then you are texting sydney. her check-ups on you have slowly turned into long conversations about her day. texting her almost makes you feel like you two never broke up, that you two are still dating.
when you can't talk to her or are unable to sleep, you keep up to date with bayern munich. if someone asked why you were watching them, you would say not only for sydney, but that would be a lie. just a little white lie, though. you're watching for klara, lea, and lena too.. but mostly for sydney.
seeing her in her element, all sweaty and passionate, makes your head feel a little less broken, so yes, you will continue to watch her matches without telling her.
and what you don't know is that sydney thinks of you every time her feet touch the pitch. how she goes even harder than normal to impress you just in case you are watching. she hopes you are watching her, she always has and always will. even right after you broke up with her and she had to push her feelings down to go put on a good performance for germany, she played so hard she was MVP of both friendlies. back then, sydney hoped you viewed her performances with envy. with deep regret for letting go of a woman like her. now she hopes you look at her in admiration when she plays well.
you also don't know that sydney never threw away any of the gifts you gave her during your relationship. she was supposed to throw everything away in a box like lea recommended, but she couldn't. she couldn't throw away all of the memories she had left of you in her home. she couldn't delete the pictures she had of you in her phone. she couldn't even block your number.
sydney hanged onto every single last string she had that was still connected to you. it's hard to let go after being dumped. she thought, no, she knew you were the love of life. her entire world came crashing down when you sat her down on the last day of you visiting her in germany, suddenly saying you believe you two should be over. that long distance isn't working out for you anymore.
she cried for a week after you left. klara had to come over and help her clean up her apartment after a week of just crying in bed.
after that, the blonde slowly tried to move on. she went out more, with and without her friends. posted more on instagram. pushed herself into drowning in work related to football. even all of that didn't help her forget about you. she couldn't. her soul still yearned for yours.
she watched your matches in secret, all of her attention focused on you. her heart rate would perk up whenever commentators said your name. she wasn't able to pull her attention away from her tv when the camera would do a close-up of you.
so obviously, the day you got injured, sydney knew. she saw the way you went down and didn't get back up. her blood was rushing to her head, her chest was hurting as she watched you get carried off. it nearly felt like she was the one injured with how her body was feeling.
could sydney be faulted for texting you? for worrying about you? klara would slap the phone out of her hand if she knew about this, but good thing klara wasn't in her apartment. going off straight adrenaline and concern, sydney sent that text that led to you being back in her life.
texting back and forth everyday has sydney dopamine hooked. you still have the same effect on her that you always have.
every time she texts you, her eyes glance around her room at the various things you left behind when you broke up with her.
the sweater you never asked for back.
the dragon stuffed animal she won for you at a carnival.
the brush you always used when you came over. she couldn't bring herself to use it after you left her, so it just sat on her vanity, taunting her for ages.
sydney told herself that when she texted you about your injury, you two would keep a certain level of distance. that you wouldn't become lovers again. that she was only checking up on you every day because you deserved people in your corner.
that last part is true, but her other motive is also there: she wants you back.
i saw you meet somebody, and i'm jealous as hell. that i can't even stomach loving someone else.
the texting between sydney and you have gone from texting to calling. a big leap, but you both admitted to liking calling more than anything else.
the calling is totally not an indication of falling back into a similar routine from before the break-up.
or maybe it is because you don't fall asleep on the phone with your friends, you don't text your friends good morning and good night, you don't send so many selfies of yourself to your friends. those are actions you always have done with sydney.
anyone could see that you two still like each other, obviously, but you are seemingly blind to it.
perhaps it's the regret, pity, and guilt for ruining a good thing for no reason that's keeping you ignorant of what's growing between you two once more.
that ignorance wouldn't last forever.
sydney and you have now been in contact again for five months, more than no-contact lasted. your recovery is coming along better than your doctors expected. your head doesn't feel heavy anymore and you can have the tv above sixty without your head feeling like it's going to explode. sydney was more happy about this progress than you were.
syd 🥺
just watch
in a few months you're going to be able to run and play again
you
my doctors said that's not happening so soon
syd 🥺
idcc
you're like half magical so you will recover soon
you
LMAOOO
half magical is insane
you're crazy
syd 🥺
crazy or optimistic?
you
both…
syd 🥺
WOW??
okay i see how it is
say this to my face
incoming call from syd 🥺
after you answer the call, sydney and you talk for three hours. bickering back and forth with a mix of talking about your days. of course, your day is the same as always. you slept, ate, crocheted a bit with your mother, and saw your doctor. meanwhile, sydney's was full of life per usual. she went grocery shopping, helped lea clean out her spare room, got some sweets from a bakery, and “saw the cutest dog while walking home” in her own words. hearing about her lively days makes you feel a bit better about your own days that are very simple and very boring nine times out of ten. there isn't much a person recovering from a concussion can do.
you could push away and ignore your feelings when you two were in just a bubble of you and sydney. nobody else is in the way, questioning if exes talking everyday was healthy. nobody wondering if all that contact would lead to something more.
that bubble is broken the day you see something that makes you feel sick.
it's a saturday, you're scrolling on instagram. sydney is busy at a gathering with some friends, leaving you to your own devices.
sorta already missing her, you go on her instagram to look at her posts. you had unblocked the moment you two started talking again. as you click on her story, you wish you still had her blocked.
your head feels like it's going to explode as you look at the photo: sydney is sitting on a couch, and some girl is on her lap, smiling way too hard.
what the hell was going on?
you almost type out a message to sydney before you get control of your emotions. it isn't your place to be jealous or hurt or annoyed. sydney and you aren't together anymore. you two are friends, only friends right now.
you feel sick as you swipe out of instagram. it's time for a nap before your head falls off of your body with the way it pounds.
seeing sydney with someone else is making you stop believing the lie that you two were platonic right now. you could never be friends with the woman you love.
i think about these things at night before i fall asleep. things i wish you said to me.
that instagram story sets off a series of events.
first, you slowly took a step back from talking to sydney. the step back was so slow that she didn't notice at first. honestly, you took two more months to not talk to her everyday because you were hooked on her messages. hooked on her jokes and selfies and laugh and cute rambles. still, you somehow did it. instead of talking everyday, you two talked three days a week and only for an hour. way less than you two used to do.
second, you started putting tons of work into your recovery. seeing a physical therapist and slowly incorporating small, easy exercises into your day helps you come closer to getting back on the pitch. the first day you step back onto the bay fc training facility grounds, your emotions are everywhere. you haven't seen your teammates as much as you use to when you were not injured and seeing them training while you were just visiting the physical therapist killed you. they were all happy to see you though, catching you up on everything that has been happening since you were away. your head injury has calmed down enough that you could sit outside and watch everyone else practice. all the shouting and sounds of bodies moving doesn't irritate your head thankfully. you follow this similar routine for a long while, even if you are slightly sad about not being able to play.
and finally, sydney confronts you about pushing her out of your life.
you're lying on your bed, having just came back from a day at the bay fc training facility. you and sydney haven't talked for a week straight, her apparently busy with her life over in germany and you making an active choice to talk to her less.
that's why when a notification from her comes up on your screen, you look away from your screen then back at it to see if this is happening right now. it's not the notification itself that makes you act like that, but the message,
sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)
why are you treating me like this again?
you
sydney
what are you talking about?
sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)
you're ignoring me
we barely talk anymore
what's gotten into you?
you try to think up an excuse. eventually landing on,
you
yk i'm busy with rehab and stuff
sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)
bullshit
stop lying to me
you
calm down syd
omg
sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)
don't tell me to calm down wtf
first you randomly break up with me for some stupid reason
“long distance isn't working” whatever that supposed to mean
i just know in my gut that's not why you left me
now we became close again and you're leaving me again?
why let me back in your life if you're going to do this to me
your head is starting to pound as blood rushes to your face. you always hated when sydney was angry with you and this time is no different. it's justified though. what you're doing is really cruel, pushing sydney away after becoming close with her again. you have hurt her once again.
you're so stupid.
in the process of trying to run from your feelings, trying to ignore the jealousy seeping from your psyche after seeing the photo of that random girl on her lap in that photo. lost in your thoughts, you don't realize that it's been ten minutes since you replied to her.
sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)
okay
do what you want
march 14th, 11:11pm, read
ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
“i don't know how to say this.. but you deserve an explanation. you wouldn't answer my calls or texts, and i get it. i left you not once but twice. both times for stupid reasons that i should have communicated instead of going ghost. the day i broke up with you.. i cried the moment i got home. all i could think about for so long is how hurt you looked. that should have made me act, but it didn't, and i just regret everything. the first time i pushed you away, it's because i let the internet get to me. make me feel all insecure about us. i pushed you away a second time because i realized i couldn't stay platonic with you. i.. saw that insta story of yours. the one with that girl on your lap. i lost my mind because i thought i didn't have a chance with you ever again. i'm really sorry, so sorry. i miss you so much. call me back, please?”
voicemail left to sydney, april 23rd, 3:00am
sorry, i pulled the “it's not you. it's me.” one day, i'll make sure you get a real apology.
sydney
are you busy?
she texts you one day in july. you thought that she was fully done with you after not speaking for nearly two months, but thankfully she isn't. you can make this right.
you
no
incoming call from sydney
“hello?”
you haven't heard her voice in so long. it sounds just the same, all soft and pretty. a rush of fondness hits you.
“hi sydney,” you say, more like whisper, into the phone.
there's some shuffling on the other line before she speaks again. was she moving around on her bed? it's a nervous habit of hers to move during intense situations you think to yourself.
you push your thoughts to the side as sydney speaks, “.. i got your voicemail.”
you thought she deleted it with how long it has been since you had sent it.
“did you like it?” you say.
why the fuck did you say that?
instead of hanging up the phone in your face, sydney laughs. you have missed her laugh so much.
“i wouldn't be calling if i didn't.”
“oh right.. sorry.” you let out a laugh of your own at your stupidity. not just your stupidity from right now but all the times before, too.
then the moment you start laughing, that makes sydney start laughing again. creating a cycle of you laughing at her laughter, then her laughing at yours and again. laughing on the phone with your ex after not speaking for some months once again is actually insane, but it seems like that's just how sydney and you are: insane.
the two of you calm down soon enough. getting back to the serious conversation that needs to be had.
“you know it really hurt me when you stopped talking to me. i thought we were getting somewhere.. platonic or not. it hurts even more to know you still like me but pushed me away anyways. don't you want me?”
“of course i want you.”
“then why didn't you say anything?”
“....”
“that was a stupid question.. i listened to your voicemail. i know why.. i just want to hear it from your own mouth in real time.”
you sigh before going silent for a moment. sydney doesn't speak, she just waits.
“i just.. was so insecure the longer we were together. i know at the time you told me to ignore social media, but i couldn't. all of those people were saying we shouldn't be together and that you didn't want me. i couldn't take it. i felt like i was holding you back from someone better, so i left. then when we started talking again, i deluded myself into believing we were on our way to being just platonic but i can never be just friends with you. the night i saw that photo on your insta story, i didn't know what to do.. so i left again. i'm sorry.”
“.. i accept your apology, but i'm still hurt. i thought you trusted me enough to talk to me about anything?”
“i do.. i did.. i swear.”
“you don't act like it.”
“i'll be better if you let me. if you want me.”
“i want you, but you'll have to work for it. i'm not taking you back that easily.”
i waste my time, i waste my life on idiotic things. like things you never said. things you'll never say to me.
sydney and you start talking again after that call. things between you two move slow though, very slow. more slow than the first time you guys got together.
you know that sydney is waiting things out, trying to see if you would leave her again. she keeps a certain distance when you two speak a little too flirty. she shuts it down quickly every time, which hurts, but you get it. you have to earn that side of her again.
and you do just that.
it's in small ways than some grand gesture. you tell about everytime you watch one of her matches, mostly praising her but throwing in some critique as well. after your rehab sessions, you tell her about everything. all your feelings surrounding the sessions, how much you've been improving. everytime you feel jealousy at one of sydney's posts, you talk to her about it.
that distance between you two slowly closes. not only emotionally but physically.
the summer the year after sydney and you reconnected for the second time since the break-up, you find the time to fly to germany for her birthday.
you asked before coming, though, not wanting to mess up the new connection you two are building.
“syd, i got a question,” you say, phone propped up on the bathroom sink as you got ready for another day at training. you have progressed very far in your recovery, thankfully, and can now do some light training with the team.
“hmmmmm?” sydney murmurs. she's looking all cute on the other line, face pressed to her pillow as she lays in bed. her room is dark, with the only light coming from her phone screen.
there's some hesitation that crosses your mind, but you push it away. communication, remember?
“can i come see you?” you ask.
sydney sits up slightly after hearing your question. there's clear confusion on her face.
“what do you mean?”
“i want to fly to germany for your birthday.”
sydney goes silent for a long moment. your nerves peak, looking at your screen. was this too big of a step for her? does she need more time to be ready to see you in person?
her answer surprises you.
“okay,” she says.
you booked your flight to germany that night and next thing you know, you're there. unfortunately, sydney isn't the one who picks you up from the airport. lena takes over that job, but it's still fun to hangout with lena after so long.
you don't see sydney until the day of her birthday. she claims she's been busy and you believe her. she texts you all the time even if she doesn't come see you physically.
your mind runs wild as you get ready for sydney's birthday party. you're in lena’s bathroom, making sure your hair looks perfect and your makeup doesn't make you look clown-ish and that your fit actually fits you and maybe you should brush your teeth again-
“you know sydney doesn't hate you, right?” lena interrupts your anxious thoughts.
“duh i know. i wouldn't be here if she did,” you say, still staring intensely at your appearance through the mirror.
lena rolls her eyes. “then why are you getting ready like we're going to a pageant? sydney likes you in every way. she was really hurt when you guys broke up, but obviously, she's moved on from it if she invited you to come all the way here.”
lena's words make you slow down your overanalyzing of yourself. she's right, sydney is forgiving you right now. trying to overdo everything to seem perfect isn't going to make her like you any more. she already likes you alot.
she wants you, not some polished version.
“you're right. i'm finished, let's go,” you say, leaving the sink and coming by the doorframe to make lena turn around. the two of you leave the bathroom, then put on your shoes and finally leave her apartment.
the drive to sydney's party is a short one, or at least it feels that way. lena, and you sing along to the songs on the radio the entire way there.
once at sydney's place, your heart starts racing. being back in her space feels so strange, but so right. alot is the same, but alot is different aswell. she bought a new couch, an upgrade from her old leather one. there's more plants around the place. her tv is new and even bigger than her last one.
the apartment is basically full with all of the bayern munich team and some other people from sydney's life. the smell of pizza and chicken hits your nose as you walk from the living room, where you greet everyone, to the kitchen.
and there is sydney.
her back is turned as you walk into the kitchen, but you can tell it's her.
her hair is styled in a ponytail, and she's wearing this black tank top and nice fitting jeans. she looks so pretty. she looks even prettier when she turns around.
“y/n?” sydney looks at you like she wasn't expecting you. perhaps she wasn't fully prepared to see you in person? even though she knew you were coming to her party. she allowed you to, after all.
you smile at her, “hi syd. is it too soon to say i missed you?”
“is it too soon to hug you?” she smiles at you back.
“i would be stupid to say yes, and i'm done being stupid.”
sydney flies into your arms, embracing you tightly. her arms wrap around your neck, her cheek pressing against yours. her quick reaction would feel weird if it didn't feel so right. you hug her back just as tight. it's been so long since you've been in her arms. so long since you smelled her scent. so long since you've even been around her.
“thank you for coming,” sydney says as she pulls away. not going too far as she stands close to you.
you laugh, “i'm the one who asked you. i should be thanking you.”
“for what?”
“for letting me back into your life.”
sydney's and your reunion is cut short by laura coming into the kitchen. she gives you two a look but doesn't say anything about your closeness.
“syd, you better get in here. it's your birthday party,” laura says, pointing to the living room. sydney looks at laura before looking at you. without thinking, you grab her hand and pull her out into the living room. time to party.
you ended up staying for longer than you thought you would in germany. sydney allowed you to stay in her spare room for the rest of your time there. the two of you have many, many conversations about where you two stand currently. she's not your girlfriend just yet, but you two are getting there.
when it's time for you to leave for america, sydney drives you to the airport and even blessed you with a kiss on the lips as a goodbye. your face is permanently flushed until you board the flight.
she texts you the moment you get off the plane back in san jose as well.
syd 💕
land safely?
you
yupp
but i miss you :(
syd 💕
miss you too :((
we'll see eachother soon
don't worry
you
call you when i get home?
syd 💕
call me when you get home
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author note: i might possibly be working on an alt verison of this with sydney's pov.. depends on if my brain feels like working. hope yall enjoyed! 🙂‍↕️
© JACKIESUNSHINES, 2025
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flowerandblood · 2 months ago
Text
hiatus
I thought I might be able to write something now, but my priorities have changed so much that I feel like I need to focus on my new book publication now, my husband's PhD, and the fact that we're going to be parents in June. I haven't felt this good in a long time: my inspiration has left me when it comes to writing stories, but it's come back in my professional life, which is very important to me. My husband and I are closer than ever, so I want to focus on my real life to the fullest: I already regret that when I had a difficult time I waited so long to tell him what was going on inside me, instead sitting in front of the computer and writing, pushing him away so as not to burden him with my sadness.
Writing has given me two things: wonderful, devoted readers and the feeling that I can write an interesting story, and I will always be eternally grateful for that. I'm not going to delete this blog and I'm not saying that I'm disappearing forever or that I'll never write anything again: I just don't know when or if I will. I know you will understand this, as always, because I have managed to surround myself with very warm and kind people.
Tumblr also has a dark side for me though, and there is something in it that currently repels me every time I log in here. Some time ago I came to the conclusion that what I read here (I am not talking about stories, but text posts) makes me uncomfortable and often does not even stand close to "openness, equality and all other human values" as some people think.
I think that at some point in my time here I was a bad person, especially when I was involved in various dramas or when I got angry about things that, from my current perspective, were absurd: I allowed myself to be manipulated, but I also willingly distracted myself from the fact that I felt useless to my husband, myself and the whole world.
I found my happiness (a real one) only when I told my husband about everything that was going on inside me, and he offered me the support and understanding I needed. It happened before our vacation in Romania and, what a surprise, when all the stress went away and I finally rested by his side, after a month I was already pregnant with the child I had so longed for.
Every once in a while I'll probably let you know what's up and how I'm doing: I probably won't be in private messages anymore, but that doesn't mean that if you write to me, I'll never write back. Thank you for letting me go through the hardest period of my life with you.
See you soon!
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