#dont ask me where to read it back when i was trying to read it i wasnt able to find it for free anywhere so i just bought the ebook
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
grimmweepers · 3 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
ok shit after i sent this to my drafts i didn't realise it cut off some of my tags bc it didn't tell me that i had reached my tag limit LMAO. pls read under the cut after the tags <3
OH AND THE SMUT SCENE WAS FANTASTICCCCCCCC KJSUTGIWITGEWUGYUGWUYGWUGU BUT I WILL FOREVER WAIL AND THROW MYSELF ON WALLS AT THE MENTION OF HIS GRANDMOTHER AND PARENTS.
this fic pulled on my heartstrings. but it also made my heart race and jump. i laughed but some parts also left me clutching my chest. i cried but i also smiled. this just tells me that reading your work is always an experience <3 AND WHAT A WONDERFUL GIFT YOU HAVE <3 THANK U FOR SHARING IT WITH US
like a lotus in spring, you are mine to bloom — ft. alhaitham
Tumblr media
synopsis: at twenty one, you’re just a girl he meets as he trains for the role of scribe. at twenty four, you’ve become everything he loves in this world. after three years of knowing you and nearly two and a half decades of life, alhaitham finally realizes why his father left letters for his mother instead of just saying the words outloud
Tumblr media Tumblr media
❤︎ word count: 7.7k words — we find ourselves here in the same old situation again, i see LOL pls give it a chance though!! plssss
❤︎ before you read: female reader ; 18+ content — not suitable for minors ; not proof read ; strangers to friends to lovers ; mutual pining but not at the same time for a bit (he falls first <3) ; jealous alhaitham ; hinted drunk sex ; getting together + love confessions ; alhaitham character story spoilers + references to his grandmother and parents ; semi-clothed unprotected sex ; no prep ; some nipple play ; creampie ; the cringiest love letter at the end LOL
❤︎ comments: guys every time i write alhaitham it’s so corny and cheesy but . he is my fav genshin guy of all time i deserve to be allowed this okay
Tumblr media
TWENTY ONE. 
You’re still a student when you first meet Alhaitham. (Not a student for much longer, but a student all the same. With a little luck on your side and good graces from your darshan’s sage on your thesis, you’re expected to graduate in just a few short months.)
You don’t have the best first meet. In fact, your impression of Alhaitham starts off entirely on the wrong foot. 
He’s newly graduated, just freshly rewarded a degree for his (impressive) efforts, and is now well on his way to training for the role of scribe—you heard he was offered far more prestigious roles, but for some reason, a genius like him settled for a role like that. You try not to judge. People have their passions, after all, and if that’s what he wants to do, well…who are you to make comments? (But amongst a school that only houses the brilliant, Alhaitham is, very undoubtedly, a standout. It’s hard to stand out in a school filled with only the best minds, but he manages to do so with ease. Sometimes, you’re almost jealous. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t aim a little higher than he does.)
He trains in the house of Daena. His first order of training is to fact-check ordinance drafts using books so he can better get the hang of drafting them himself in the future. You’re also in the House of Daena to find the last book for your thesis—after weeks of begging, you’re finally granted access to the restricted section to find it. 
And you do. Except your palm meets warm skin instead of the cold leather cover of a book. You pause, glancing up as sharp, teal eyes meet your gaze, staring at you expectantly as if you should be the one letting go. But you need this book. It’s the final research element to finish your thesis, and you’d like to be done with it. End of story. No matter how devastatingly handsome the man (because he is handsome, you’ll admit at least that much), you will not be handing over the last, final key to your academic freedom.
“Um, excuse me,” you say politely, “I was kind of reaching for that.”
“As was I,” he says, staring at you with a bored, almost uncaring expression. Your eyes narrow. “Now, if you’d please kindly take your hand off of mine.”
“I believe it should be you taking your hand off of mine,” you correct, huffing as you add stubbornly, “I reached for it first.”
He blinks at you, bland and a little irritated, as he points out, “Your hand is on top of mine, which means I reached the book first.”
Well.
Maybe if you were feeling particularly patient, you’d be inclined to admit that, yes, he does have a point. But stubbornness, combined with pure exhaustion, has you at your wit's end, and if you have to play the role of a difficult student, then so be it. You’re pretty sure you need it more, and you’re probably a much speedier reader anyway. You’ll have it done and returned in no time.
This guy, on the other hand…he doesn’t look too bright. You’re not willing to take your chances and let him walk off with a book that you might never see again.
“I started reaching for it first,” you scowl, “you just sped up your hand once you saw me. I should get it.”
“Unlikely,” he scoffs, “I didn’t even see you. Although,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, making you feel uncomfortably seen under his judging gaze, “I suppose you were a bit easy to miss.”
You gape at him. “Just what does that mean?”
“It means,” he smirks, taking the opportunity to grab the book as you stand in shock, “that I got here first.”
“Hey!” You glare at him, seeing red for a moment. What a perfectly good waste of a perfectly handsome face—and such an awful attitude coupled with his ridiculously smug grin couldn’t make for a worse combination. But, before you can even say anything, the book is being pressed back into your hands.
“You seem like you want it more than I do, though,” he hums, “I suppose I can let you have it. It’s a bit outdated for this ordinance, anyway.” With that, he saunters off. You push down the soft flutter in your heart for a moment and force yourself to hope you’ll never see him again. (Faintly, you hope your wishes don’t come true—but you refuse to admit it to yourself.)
Unfortunately (and fortunately at the same time) for you, you do see him again. Many, many times, in fact. When he works in the House of Daena as often as he does, and you like to spend all your free time there to study if you can, you’re both bound to run into each other often. Very often. 
And sometimes, it’s quite literally running into him. 
“Oof,” you hiss, staggering backward and hitting your head against the bookshelf behind you as you bump into a sturdy figure. You drop the books in your hand, blinking before reaching to rub your read as you start to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t see you—oh. It’s you.”
“It’s me,” he says, looking mildly entertained. Alhaitham is everywhere. Everywhere. You can’t escape him if you try, and now, you can’t even avoid him in your own personal space. “Although, I think I should be the one apologizing this time. I was too busy reading to pay attention. This section is usually empty at this time.”
“How often are you in here to know what section is empty at what time?” You raise a brow. 
“Too often to be considered good for my well-being,” he says dryly, sighing in misery. You crack a smile at that. Oddly enough, so does he—you don’t think you’ve ever heard someone say they’ve seen Alhaitham smile. It must be a rare sight that only you, and perhaps a very few others, can say they’ve witnessed. “I was just about to take a break to buy a coffee—I’ll bring one back for you, too, to make up for the cranial damage I’ve supplied.”
“A most wonderful idea,” you perk up instantly, “I love when I get to drain the wallet of a man.”
He gives you an amused look at that. And somehow, bringing you a coffee along with his own during his breaks is a habit that seems to stick for a long, long while after that. 
────────────────────────
TWENTY TWO.
Alhaitham’s feelings are hurt. Not a lot of words tend to do that—he’s been blessed with thick skin and an unbothered attitude to a fault, sometimes. But something about today, for some odd reason, hurts his feelings. 
Your words to the waiter who took your order keep ringing in his head. 
Oh goodness, no, we are definitely not dating!
Most people mistake you and Alhaitham for a pair of lovers rather than a pair of friends. It’s just the way things go when a man and a woman are seen together for extended periods of time over and over. It doesn’t help that Alhaitham doesn’t really have any friends. He had one before you, but…well, things are complicated now. Far too complicated to think about it more than necessary. He has you, and that’s enough. But the matter still stands that most people tend to assume that something blossoms between the two of you that isn’t just friendly. 
He was starting to think it was true himself, too. He knows it’s true from his end, at least. But you say those words with such a sure, definitive tone that it almost sounds like you’re offended by the notion of being seen as his girlfriend. And sure, he would be disappointed—he’s no liar—if you didn’t feel romantically for him, but he’d understand. It’s not something you can help. But you brush off the idea like it’s an anomaly of sorts in the universe for someone like you and someone like Alhaitham to be a couple. It hurts his feelings. More than it should. 
(He knows deep down, in the depths of his heart, that you don’t mean it that way. You never would. But irrationality is but one of many feelings that bloom when it comes to romance.)
Alhaitham knows from a young age he’s different than most kids his age. This fact doesn’t change as he gets older. He’s brighter than most of his peers—which is certainly saying something because Sumeru is a nation filled with enough sharp minds, it’s as though brilliance were the average trait. People don’t typically like Alhaitham (which is fine by him, he doesn’t like most of them, either. They mostly don’t meet his standards). The kids don’t play with him in the parks that Grandmother would leave him at while she shopped around at the market, and they don’t sit with him on his one and only day at the Akademiya when he is but an elementary scholar. It never bothered him. He preferred reading under the trees and self-learning at home, anyway. When he’s older and enrolled in the Akademiya full-time, they don’t prefer to partner with him for projects for any other reason than simply being guaranteed a good grade, and they don’t spare him a glance when they all converse in groups outside of class. He never cared for freeloaders, anyway—he only trusts himself for projects, and he is at the Akademiya to learn, not make friends. 
It’s not until he meets Kaveh does he consider the idea that friendships are meaningful enough to spare some effort into. But the end result of that only solidifies that he is best when in solitude. 
But then he meets you. Some part of Alhaitham knows very early on that you would never be just a friend to him. If it was friendship that he craved, he would have looked for it elsewhere before running into you. Something about you from the very beginning makes him yearn for things much deeper than that. Things that remind him of his parents. 
Friendship is fleeting. People at the Akademiya go their separate ways and meet new people. They fall out and have arguments. They grow up and grow apart and become different. But love blooms like the Kalpalata lotuses on a vine, timeless as time itself. It starts and never ends, one root stemming into more and more vines until they never stop growing.
Alhaitham has fallen in love with you. Logic tells him it’s only a recent development, but his heart has known this outcome would be brought about for a long, long time. And, in all truthfulness, your words have hurt his feelings. 
And yet, he still loves you through it. He thinks that even if you crushed his feelings with a cold, indifferent smile, he would still love you through it. 
A hand waves in front of his face, pulling him from his thoughts as you take a sip from your coffee. Puspa Cafe is not as busy at this hour, most people are in the middle of a work day, but Alhaitham is allowed to pick his lunch hour, and yours happens to be earlier than most.
“Sorry, I just have to ask—are…are you upset?” you ask gently, making him pause. 
Yes.
“No,” he says simply, “why would I be?”
“You seem upset.”
“I’m not.”
“You were fine up until…I don’t know, a few minutes ago. Is something on your mind?”
You know him so well, he thinks. How could you not see how perfect the two of you are together?
“I’m simply concerned about your sugar intake is all,” he eyes the cold, iced drink in your hands with more syrups than he deems necessary. You always have a penchant for choosing the sweetest drink off the menu, and Alhaitham will never understand how your teeth don’t rot.
“Well, that’s very funny,” you roll your eyes, “because I was just thinking about how low on vitamin D you must be—do you ever leave your study to see the sun?”
He spares you a soft chuckle at that, shaking his head before taking a sip of his own coffee—hot and black and with two spoons of sugar. Simple, like how he prefers. You make a face at his drink as he sets it down. 
“Have you ever thought about what you look for in a partner?” he asks suddenly, making you blink in shock for a moment. He flinches at his own forwardness just a tad. 
“Umm, I suppose a little here and there…why do you ask?”
“No reason,” he shrugs, “just curious what your type was, that’s all. You’re painfully single, so I figured your taste was rather distinct.”
“Rude,” you scoff, rolling your eyes enough that he thinks it’s safe to assume you’re not suspicious. “Are you here just to poke fun at my choices today?”
Alhaitham should not be asking you this. Not when the answer so clearly is going to hurt his already very bruised feelings. Of course, your type won’t be him. And, of course, he is going to mourn your answer the second you give it, which is his own fault considering he’s the one who asked. (He has to wonder, for a moment, if this constitutes as an undiscovered hidden kink of his and whether or not he really just gets off on some unnecessary pain. Why else would he willingly subject himself to this?)
But, he’s caught off guard when you shrug and simply say, “I suppose someone who’s intelligent. I’d appreciate some good discussions. And…and maybe someone who’s kind, y’know? I would be rather sad if they were mean,” you pretend to sniffle dramatically.
“That’s…that’s it?” He tilts his head in equal parts shock and equal parts confusion. 
“What did you expect me to look for in a partner?” You snort, “A three-story mansion? A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on?” 
“Well, no,” he rolls his eyes, “Maybe something a bit less generic to narrow down your pool, I suppose, but if that’s your bar, so be it. There are far too many men who are intelligent and kind, you know.”
“Yes, but none of them show me any signs of interest,” you pout, “I must be undesirable or something.”
I desire you, he wants to say. He can’t quite find the courage to get the words out, though—and as if the universe has it completely out for him, the same waiter from earlier who is responsible for asking you the question that kills Alhaitham’s mood for the day comes back with the bill. And something else, too. 
Something that kills his mood for the week. 
His jaw clenches a tad when you flush at the note scribbled on a napkin for you, eyeing your flustered reaction while you read over the words: I get off at eight if you’d like to find me. You stare for a moment before you murmur, “Well, look at that. A sign of interest—it must be the Dendro Archon’s divine power.”
“The Divine have no say over who you fall for,” he insists.
“You don’t know that,” you hum thoughtfully, “The God of Wisdom knows her people better than anyone else, you know. I’d like to think she knows when love is bound for two people.”
You fold the napkin carefully and keep it in your pocket, and Alhaitham fishes out his mora pouch with stiff fingers. He leaves a very shoddy tip on the table before he exits after you. 
────────────────────────
TWENTY THREE.
You wake up in his bed. 
It’s a foggy memory, but you know you fucked Alhaitham after more sips of wine than you can count and one flirty comment too many. It happened in a blur last night, and you can’t say you’re surprised that it finally happened at all. Alhaitham is a man just like any other, and mingling pleasure with friendship is a normal thing to do. Falling under him on his mattress is not something you never had daydreams of—but the truth of the matter is that your daydreams don’t just stop with the bed.
They end with a toothbrush beside his in the bathroom. A mug next to his in the kitchen. Your shoes kicked off along with his at the entrance of a home. Your laughter and his bouncing off of the walls. A ring, maybe. One on your hand and one on his. 
In your imagination, it starts with pleasure, but it ends with love.
Falling in love with Alhaitham is a peaceful ordeal. He’s dependable and inherently kind. Strong and impressively capable. Intelligent and objectively handsome. You’d bring him home to your mother and father, and they’d thank Lord Kusanali for smiling down upon their humble little family and their darling little daughter by sending such a divine man your way. 
You don’t think you can pinpoint when exactly it is you started to love this boy, but you know loving him became as simple as breathing. You never thought about it. Never learned to do it. Never questioned it, even. You inhale the scent of his spicy, woody cologne and exhale the warm breath of your affections stored in your lungs. He lives somewhere nestled so deep in your ribcage that you think you’d have to crack each of them one after the other before you could pry him out.
You love Alhaitham. You think you know everything there is to know about loving him. You think you’d do it right—better than anyone else. 
He only drinks his coffee when it’s piping hot, and his wine can never be one degree less than iced. He has dry hands, but he hates the feeling of lotion. He doesn’t like raw onions but he doesn’t mind them cooked. When the sun is in his eyes, he’s in a foul mood, but he enjoys napping under the warm rays, much like a cat. He laughs surprisingly boyishly from his belly if you manage to deliver a dry yet clever enough joke, and he clears his throat and gets a bit shy once he’s realized he’s let it out. He twirls his pen in his hand when he’s bored, and he only uses the kind with gel ink because they write smoother. 
You love Alhaitham. For you, it’s always been him. 
When you wake up to his bare, warm body next to yours, breathing peacefully with an arm thrown over your waist, you can’t help but selfishly wish he’d stay asleep all day. Just for a day. Just for the amount of time you get in between the sun’s departure and the moon’s arrival. Just so you can watch him exist in this moment where it’s you, him, and the liminal space between friends and lovers. Just so you can admire how beautiful he is without worrying about his eyes opening and the inevitable conversation of what you’re both doing is brought up. 
People (like Kaveh, or Dehya, or Tighnari, or…anyone) tend to insist that Alhaitham loves you. It’s obvious, they say, just as obvious as your love for him. You never believe it. It’s not because he’s bad at love or because you’re bad for him. You think he’d make a good lover—contrary to popular belief, you don’t think Alhaitham is uninterested in intimacy or affection. And you think you’d make a good girlfriend—unlike other people, you understand him and like what you see. 
But he doesn’t love you. That much is a fact you’ve long accepted. It’s not because you’re bad for him or because he’s incapable of feeling—but rather, it’s just that bitter, soul-crushing reality that you can’t help who you love and who you don’t. Alhaitham doesn’t love you—it’s not something either of you can really change. Because if he did, he’d waste no time. He’d get to the heart of the matter and quit dancing around the issue. 
It’s just the kind of guy that he is. 
So, because this is your first and likely last time seeing him this way, you slowly reach over and brush a few strands of messy, unruly bedhead from his forehead before cupping his cheek in your hand. His skin is soft and warm under your palm, much more delicate to the touch than you anticipated from how chiseled his features are. Your thumb gently brushes along the slant of his cheekbone, eyes softening at how he lets out a puff of air as he sleeps. 
“Morning,” he says hoarsely, eyes still closed and making you jolt in surprise. He lets out a quiet, sleepy chuckle that would make you melt if not for the way your heart still pounds from the shock. 
“You’re awake?”
“Mhm,” he hums, nodding before finally cracking an eye open. “For a while now.”
“Why pretend to sleep then, you creep?” You scoff, glaring at him as he sits up slightly and glances at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. No part of him seems to be shocked about you being nude in his bed. Or the fact that you’re even in his bed at all, nude or not. 
“You’re the creep if we’re being technical here. It’s undoubtedly a little on the creepy side to study someone with such careful touches while they sleep.”
“That’s your main concern…?” You stare at him—and for lack of better words, you’re dumbfounded. You and Alhaitham have been friends for two years and counting. You’ve never once crossed the line or even toed at it to step beyond the border of anything more. And, yet, here you are. In his bed. Completely nude. He was lying there and felt your delicate touch along his skin, felt you act like a lover and not a friend on a quiet, intimate morning when in fact, you both should be shamefully avoiding each other’s eyes in a moment that’s anything but intimate as you leave. 
He makes no move to ask you to leave or even question why you’re still here. You make no move to really leave—it’s not like you want to. 
“What should my main concern be, then?” he looks at you expectantly, like he really doesn’t know.
“Oh, I don’t know, Alhaitham—shouldn’t you be a little more panicked by the idea that I’ve trespassed into your bed and seen you…bare?”
“Well, to be fair, you didn’t trespass. I let you in—and also, to be fair, I saw the same for you, too, so we’re even.”
“You’re oddly calm about this,” you hiss. “This doesn’t bother you even a little? That things might change?”
He looks at you funny—like you’ve just told him a joke that hardly makes sense but makes him want to laugh anyway. “You’re too brilliant to be this dense,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’m quite open to the idea of change.”
You take offense to the first part enough to completely miss the second part of his statement. 
“I am not dense,” you huff, “I’m incredibly bright. I’ll have to send you my thesis sometime.”
“No need,” he responds through a low hum. He pulls you closer, flush against his chest. Bare skin on skin. Intimate skin, at that. You shiver for a moment as his warm, large hand wanders lower and lower before stopping just at the small of your back, rubbing slow circles at the dimple where your spine ends. “I’ve read it plenty of times. It was very insightful.”
“Well, in that case, you should know not to insult my intelligence—”
“If you don’t notice my affection for you, I’m afraid you might not be as observant as I initially thought.”
You pause. Your heart flutters. Then it feels like it decays. Your eyes widen a fraction. Then they feel like they need to be squeezed shut for fear of tears. You feel your fingers twitch to reach for him. And yet they stiffen in distrust. 
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you whisper. Because you don’t.
You really fucking don’t. You thought you knew. His feelings and how to read them. His thoughts and how his mind works. Every little quirk of his and how he approaches every damn thing in this world. You thought you knew.
Now you feel like you don’t know much of anything, especially not what he means right in this moment. 
“You don’t?” He whispers, hand moving to grab your wrist and bring it to his cheek so his lips can brush along the delicate lines of your palm prints. (If he was brave, he’d tell you that his destiny and yours are written in those very lines. Maybe someday he’ll build the courage.)
“No,” you say through a shaky whisper. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you. Just like you love me.” He says it so plainly, that you almost feel like it's a dry, cruel joke. (You know him a little better than that, though, to know he’d never.)
“How do you know I love you?” you challenge just because it’s all you have left to cling to—easy, instant denial. 
He laughs. Soft. Quiet. Melodic. So fucking sweet. “I’m too smart to act dense,” Alhaitham teases. And then, for a moment, his eyes soften enough that they almost look vulnerable. “And only someone who loves me could deal with my… peculiarities. Though, I will admit, it took me quite a while to reach this conclusion. You made me work for it.”
“If you’ve known all along—” 
“Not all along,” he corrects, “like I said, it took me a while to come to this conclusion. But once I did, it was rather obvious.”
You scowl with a finger prodding into his chest, eyes misty with relief and the faintest traces of agitation, “Well, regardless, why haven’t you said something all this time? Obviously, I wasn’t as aware as you seem to be, so the least you could have done is spared me the pining and heartbreak of wondering if you’d ever look at me—”
“I wanted to make sure I could offer you a peaceful life first,” he says gently. You blink. He smiles, eyeing something in the distance—you don’t quite catch it, but you think it might be the old, worn-out stack of envelopes sitting on his desk. 
“What?”
“When you’re with me,” he whispers, leaning in so that his lips brush over yours, “I can lead a peaceful life. I wanted to make sure I could give you the same.”
“And what does that consist of?” you raise a brow. 
“Well,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth, “A stable job with a generous income, which I now have. A fixed schedule, which I have also negotiated. A proper home to house the both of us, which you are comfortably laying in. And…” he grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest where his heart is beating erratically, “A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on, which I have dedicatedly worked to add to my physique for you.”
“Haitham!” you squeal, shoving him away with a horrified shriek as he laughs with a wide grin. You don’t even know why he still remembers that comment to poke fun at it, but you suppose that is the tragedy of falling for a prodigious scholar. His mind is sharp. And so is his memory. “Enough!”
“Okay, okay,” he grins smugly. “I want us to lead a peaceful life.”
“There’s not a lot of peace I am counting on with you.”
“I will elect to ignore that statement,” he says dryly, “But that’s why I waited this long,” he buries his face into your neck, nose pressing into the skin as he inhales, “I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer, though. Won’t you accept my frugal attempt at a serene life with you?”
“Perhaps I can make do,” you fight back a stupid grin.
He smiles into your neck. You can feel it. You can practically see it. You hope you’ll grow old with it, too. 
“Then I suppose I’m forever indebted to your graciousness, my love.”
────────────────────────
TWENTY FOUR.
When Alhaitham was eight, Grandmother told him the story of how his parents had fallen in love. It was a typical love story, he thought at the time—nothing overly special or unique. A simple, sweet bond between two people who became friends and something more along the way.
What stood out were the letters. Not very much at first, but with time, he’d realized how special they were. 
Grandmother handed him the letters with a soft, melancholy look in her eyes that made him realize he hadn’t just lost his father and mother. She had lost her son and daughter-in-law. Alhaitham felt the absence of his parents often. It was hard not to at that age—he didn’t have a father to throw a ball to or tag along with to the market. He didn’t have a mother to hum him a melody or make his favorite dish for dinner. But Grandmother filled the gaps in those places well enough that even if his heart bled, not too much blood spilled between the cracks.
But he was no son. Not a proper one for her at her age, anyway. She raised him like he was her own, but she grew older every day, and he didn’t grow fast enough to keep up. He couldn’t take care of her in her old age the way his father would have. He couldn’t do much besides bring the vegetables for her to cut or set the table while she cooked. He couldn’t offer her the mora when she went to the market or carry too many of the heavy bags while they walked home. He couldn’t let her rest in her old age too much because, regardless of how mature and bright he was for his age, Alhaitham was just a child. Her child, nonetheless—Grandmother didn’t let him forget that fact. But a child.
When she died, he arranged the funeral alone. He didn’t cry throughout the whole ordeal. Her old colleagues from way back in her Akademiya days came, as did some of his parents’ old acquaintances. No one he knew too familiarly, though—no one who really mattered when they clasped his shoulder and told him to hang in there.
She was a good woman. He knew that already.
She was very intelligent. A very obvious fact.
She was exceptionally kind. A rather unsurprising observation.
She loved very deeply. Well. That one stung—as true as it might have been.
He remembers it so vividly still. How he had walked home alone after it all. How he had taken off his tie (a very poorly tied tie, at that—Grandmother had always helped him before) and silently entered his room.
It wasn’t until he had eyed his desk that finally, it all sank in. The notes—the ones his father had so carefully written his mother while they were still just starting to fall in love, sat there as if waiting for him. He read them one by one, just like he had so many times before. He didn’t realize he’d started crying until a rivulet of his sorrow landed from his cheek to the page, staining the paper a darker shade of heartache. 
Alone. 
That’s all Alhaitham had ever been since the tender age of four. At least, that’s what people had always thought—but he’d never felt the sorrow people tended to feel for him. Not having a father and mother was okay. Hard at times, but okay. Grandmother had been everything he needed. More than what he needed, in fact. 
Grandmother was everything. And she had left him just the same way his parents had. He’d cried that night—alone in a house that was nothing more than just a house. Not a home, not a place where he could return to and look forward to it. Not a place where love was waiting for him to shelter him as soon as he came back from the cruel, outside world.
Grandmother was gone. Mother and father had left so long ago. But they all had each other—in whatever world they’d crossed to, they’d had each other. 
He remembers it all so vividly still. How he’d read his father’s words, and for the first time in all his life, he’d craved it. What his parents had. 
To my love, my soul, my heart. I am yours, always. 
He wondered that night, through teary and blurry eyes, if love like that would ever find him. If he’d one day be able to call someone his love, soul, and heart.
He thinks now, as you laugh with your head tilted forward and a tweezer in hand while sitting on his lap, that he can. 
“Hold still, you,” comes your teasing remark, “you said this would be nothing. Now look at you.”
“You’re being too harsh,” he grumbles, pouting slightly. With a smile, you bend your neck down and press a soft kiss to his jutted lips, humming before pressing an extra one to the corner of his mouth for good measure. (And yes, the grand sage—acting, you can almost hear him correct in your own head—can pout. He is rather frequent at curling those lips of his in your presence when he wants something, in fact. Or when he is teased too much. Something about you brings about a side of him that is much less stoic and far more dramatized.)
“You can just admit it hurts, you know,” you say through an amused snort.
“It won’t hurt if you just do it right.”
“I’m an expert at tweezing eyebrows,” you huff, “I do mine all the time. And I would know that it hurts.”
“It can’t be that painful,” he clicks his teeth, “just be gentle.”
“I cannot gently pull out a hair from your follicle, Haitham—I don’t know what you want me to—hey!”
He grabs the tweezers from your hand and pulls you close, hugging you tight enough that his nose digs into your skin a bit as he buries it into your neck. It’s Saturday. His first out of two days off for the week—standard scribe work weeks are nine to five on weekdays, and he very much appreciates his weekends away from the bustling, lively Akademiya nonsense. 
Saturday happens to be your day off, too. 
“Where is Kaveh?” you ask quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt. He raises a brow, eyeing the suspicious movement of your fingers.
“Working with a client in Aaru Village. He won’t be back until tomorrow evening. Why am I not enough company for you?”
“Oh, be quiet,” you roll your eyes, and this time, your hands wander under his shirt, palms slowly dragging along his chiseled, planed abdomen while he shivers slightly under your touch. “I was just asking if…”
“If…?” he urges you to continue.
You know he knows. But, for the sake of indulging his smug, teasing little game, you huff and push his shirt up to expose his chest before murmuring, “If we would be interrupted or not. I don’t fancy such awkward run-ins with your roommate.”
“Our roommate,” he corrects, “this is your home, too.”
“Yes,” you smile, brushing your palms over his pectorals, watching as he stiffens when you graze along his nipples, “I suppose it is.”
“Well, he’s not here. And he won’t be, so kiss me,” he demands through a breathy whisper. You do. You kiss him instantly—because kissing Alhaitham is what you do best. When he’s happy, sad, angry, distressed, or just plain tired, kissing him is how you know him the most. When your breaths exchange and your life force and his mingle to become one, singular unit. 
You sigh into his mouth, letting his hands cradle your jaw and tilt your head to better meet his mouth, all while your hands still explore his upper half. He moans under your touch, cock springing to life slowly below you through his pants. You angle your hips forward, inching higher up his lap to drag your crotch along his and help the erection grow against the friction. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, hard and heavy between his legs in no time. 
“Haitham,” you breathe, feeling that familiar ache build between your own thighs. 
You kiss him like that for a bit. Messy, deep, sloppy, and so, so slow. With all the time in the world. Languid strokes of your tongue against his as he rolls his hips up from underneath you, dragging his clothed, bulging cock against your dripping cunt. The fabric separates you, rudely so, and it’s not long until you both grow tired of it. 
“Off,” you whine, tugging at his pants, “off, off, off!”
“So demanding,” he chuckles, pecking your nose sweetly before he lifts his hips, letting you slide off his sweatpants. “Satisfied?” 
“Yes,” you beam, “You always give me what I want. It’s my favorite thing about you.”
His gaze darkens at that—not for any other reason than it makes him so incredibly filled with lust when you speak to him like that. So spoiled and happy about it because it’s him. Him. You’re happy that it’s him. And he’s happy that it’s you. 
You don’t even bother undressing yourselves fully—he pulls down your own pants just enough to expose your pretty, leaking folds, and his hands wander under your shirt, where he almost short-circuits for a moment. Braless. Because you just love to drive him mad, he thinks. This much easy access to your soft, delicate breasts and the pert nipples that decorate them is enough to make him curse under his breath as his thumbs tease over them. 
“You’re a tease.”
“For simply existing?” you gasp, making him crack a small grin. 
“Yes,” he hums, “Your existence on its own teases me at all times. I’m afraid it drives me mad.”
You hum, reaching forward to gently take his hard, leaking cock into your hand and give a light, teasing squeeze. “Maybe my goal is to turn you completely into a lost cause.”
“Then,” he groans, throwing his head back against the couch cushions while he breathes harshly, “then you’re definitely succeeding. Is that what you wished to hear?”
“Yes,” you whisper, kissing his jaw, “It is, actually.”
It doesn’t take long at all before Alhaitham has tossed you back against the couch, laughing as you shriek at the sudden change of position. You glare at him, fighting back your own chorus of giggles as he moves to hover over you, kissing and biting playfully along your cheeks. 
“I love you,” he mumbles.
“Aw, so sweet,” you coo, “say that again.”
He rolls his eyes. His lips curl into the brightest grin at the same time. My love, my soul, my heart—the words are ingrained in his memory always. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” you whisper.
He leans in for a soft, slow kiss as the tip of his leaking cock slides against your folds, tapping against your clit before rubbing along your entrance. You gasp, shuddering against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. 
“You know,” he murmurs, “I could get used to this.”
“Sex on the couch? We can do that any time—”
“A weekend with just the two of us,” he groans, dropping his head to your neck as you laugh loudly. Bright. Airy. A sound the wind carries to him in his subconscious. He hears you even when you’re not there—even when you aren’t around, he searches for you. 
“Oh,” you say playfully, “Yeah, I guess that’s nice too, isn’t it?”
“I’ll show you just how nice it’s about to be,” he hums. The tip of his thick, blunt head is pressed against your folds—you’re leaking just as much as he is. You slick, and his pre cum mix for a messy collision of arousal as he presses into you slowly, so carefully, you feel like you could break at any second with how he handles you. 
He’s patient. When Alhaitham fucks you, he’s patient enough that you feel like his other half and not his means of pleasure. Like he fucks you for you and not for himself. 
“More,” you insist, impatient as you add, “I can take it.”
“Patience is a virtue,” he clicks his teeth, “I want to take my time feeling you.”
And he does. He rolls his hips slowly. So slowly, you feel delirious. It’s a painful, gradual build-up of pleasure that has you trying to roll your hips into him to meet him halfway, a pathetic attempt when he’s on top of you to press his weight down on you to keep you in place. 
“Please, Haitham,” you whine, sweat shining across your sweet, pleasure-hazed face as he stares down at you, “Please more. I need it—need you. Need all of you.”
“You have all of me,” he groans, feeling the tight walls of your cunt squeeze around him, the squelching noise of his thick girth bullying into your folds in and out, in and out, in and out, driving him to the brink of insanity. “You’ve always had every piece of me.”
“I want more,” you hiss. 
He lets out a breathy laugh that turns into a soft moan. “If that’s what you want.”
The next thing you know, two strong, muscled arms are grabbing your thighs and bringing them around his torso to wrap around him, and his large hands grab your hips and pull, practically manhandling you deeper onto his cock. You shudder, letting out a shrill, high-pitched gasp as he intrudes further into your cunt, nudging the head of his cock against your sweetest of spots and making your body tremble. 
“Haitham,” you gasp, “Haitham, fuck—fuck, you feel so good. So deep—love when you fuck me like this.”
“Yeah?” he murmurs, kissing in between your pretty little scrunched-up eyebrows, “I love fucking you like this, too. When you take me so well, squeeze so tight, and let me feel you like the good girl you are.”
His words make your folds squeeze around him, and fuck—he’s close. So fucking close, the pad of his rough, callused thumb meets your clit as he rubs circles, trying to bring you to the edge before he goes plummeting himself. 
“‘M close—almost…almost there,” you pant.
“Me too, baby,” he groans. He slams into you, skin slapping against skin and the glistening sheen of it mixing your sweat together. His mouth parts with pretty, low sounds of his pleasure, and your face twists with the devastating rush of yours. 
Once. Twice. A third time, and you fall apart as he thrusts into you and presses the tip of his thick length against the spongey spot in the back of your walls. 
“Haitham,” you gasp, legs tightening around him as your nails press crescent shapes into his back. “Fuck, I’m c-cumming…oh, Gods.”
“Good,” he gasps, and with one last roll of his desperate hips, he spills into you, too. A thick, sticky, familiar rush of heat fills your cunt, ropes of cum painting you white within with every twitch of his aching cock. “Fuck—you feel so good. So perfect—you were made for me. Me.”
“You,” you whisper, breathless. 
You let him shudder over you, fingers running through his hair as he finishes releasing his load into you before he slumps his weight over your body. It’s a small couch—decorative more than functional. (All thanks to Kaveh, of course.) But you don’t particularly care when you’re under him. It feels right all the same. 
“We have the house to ourselves this weekend,” he reminds you after some time of catching your breaths. “So…so we can do this all you want.”
You giggle, rolling your eyes as you poke his forehead. “You’re obscene.”
“I’m romantic,” he corrects, “I just want to be with you and nothing else. Can’t blame a man when he’s been gifted such a beautiful sight before him.”
“And cheesy, too,” you huff. 
He smiles. My love, my soul, my heart. 
——————————
You wake up Monday morning to Alhaitham already gone—it’s rare that he’s ever up before you. He leaves the house just in time to make it to work exactly on the dot and not a moment sooner or a moment later. But, as is with any Akademiya position, there are quarterly meetings that even the scribe can’t avoid. You giggle at the image in your head of a grumpy Alhaitham carefully tiptoeing around the room as he miserably gets ready for an early morning of extra work, all while making sure he doesn’t wake you. 
You yawn, sitting up to start your morning for your own day of work ahead—but it catches your eye before you can fully rise from bed, making you pause. 
A note? No, you realize almost instantly. Not just a note—a letter:
To my love, my soul, my heart: Kalpalata lotuses will bloom soon. I forget how beautiful the world is sometimes, and I suppose it’s because I am always distracted by your beauty alone. Will you laugh as you read this? I suppose you might because even I must admit, it is a rather cliche thing to say. I can just picture your smile now, and I am certain I will have it memorized until my last breath. It’s easy to remember it so well when it’s all I see in my dreams. Have I told you how often I see you in them? It’s difficult to think that there was once a time in Sumeru when we did not dream. It seems like sleeping beside your body is no longer enough—your presence is required even in my slumber for me to truly be at peace.  Perhaps when the lotuses bloom, we can take a trip to the deeper parts of the rainforest to catch a glimpse of a few. They say the vines are blessed by The Lord herself. I was never one to seek out the divine, but perhaps with a gift as sacred as you, I should take the time to thank Lady Kusanali for granting such brilliance to take bloom in my presence. Only, the difference is that here with you, there are no cliffs to climb or seasons to await. You are mine to bloom, always—my precious, beautiful lotus.  Forever yours,  Haitham ♡
Tumblr media
ITS DONE. HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY FIRST AND LONGEST LOVE. YOU MEAN EVERYTHING AND MORE TO MEEEEE
#okokok i had to mentally prepare myself for this bc i knew down to my very bones that i would probably leave this experience with tears#running down my face. I HOPE YOU DONT MIND THE WAY I GUSH OVER YOUR WRITING I HOPE ITS NOT WEIRD AND ISTG I TRY TO KEEP IT TOGETHER BUT#I JUST CONSTANTLY HAVE SOMETHING TO YELL ABOUT.#here i goooo ->#OHHHHH THE MEETCUTE IS SO VERY HAITHAM.... HE CAN BE SUCH AN ASS SOMETIMES OH MY GOSH. WDYM IM EASY TO MISS.#'Alhaitham is everywhere. Everywhere.' i can see this... foreshadowing a lot ......... like a lot..... i love where this is going#'irrationality is but one of many feelings that bloom when it comes to romance' FACTS BABE FACTS#'How could you not see how perfect the two of you are together?' STOP IT RIGHT NOW HES SO IN LOVE PLEASEEE#OH MY GOD THE BEGINNING OF AGE 23JKGJDFHHJDGJBHJDFBHGFBDGJHBG'#“You don’t think you can pinpoint when exactly it is you started to love this boy but you know loving him became as simple as breathing.”#ok im being very srs rn i know im barely halfway but why am i already tearing up. this is embarrassing. this actually happened to me when i#watched wicked and i teared up before the title screen even came on. ITS HAPPENING AGAIN. LMFAO SORRY anyways where were we#“Well he’s not here. And he won’t be so kiss me” HDFJGJDFJFDJDJHGJHDGJDHGD#“Your existence on its own teases me at all times. I’m afraid it drives me mad.” oh haitham you shakespeare little bastard. WHEN I CATCH YO#(and you too riv). right. so i had to stop myself from livetweeting so i could enjoy the fic and riv :(( you must be a witch (aff) bc you#just made 7k worth of words feel like fleeting seconds to me. the way you story tell so effortlessly and the way you express love in its#truest REALEST form makes me such an admirer of your craft and well! i suppose thats why you were op to me for a while hehe :D i simply#cannot list my fav quotes because i fear it would be the entire fic! one of the things i always look forward to is the exchange between#characters because your dialogue is ALWAYS superb. im convinced you might've even jumped into alhaithams head to pull out all these wonderf#lines because im nodding along like YES YES YES HE WOULD SAY THIS. as a haitham kisser pieces like this make me so grateful that there are#other haitham kissers because one thing i can assure we all have in common and we all do WELL is LOVE THAT BOY TO DEATH. and that note at#the end was an assassination to MY LIFE. each time i read specifically a haitham piece from you i find myself loving him even more - IF THA#IS EVEN POSSIBLE. this was such a beautifully written piece. i can see how much YOU love him and how much you pay attention to his smaller#details. writings like this leaves me flabbergasted that we get to read this FOR FREE. that note.. that note tho... every time i read it i#wistfully sigh. the more i read it the more tears begin to bubble. to exist in a world where you get to love alhaitham and he loves#you back with equal fervor IF NOT MORE - would be so fulfilling. hehe i saw risu's ask about how if she were in a coma she would wish to#exist in THIS world while in that state. it made me giggle without context but NOW IMLIKE I TOTALLY GET IT LMAO. i must sum this up to avoi#sounding like a broken record but THANK YOU FOR THE FINE PIECE. IT WAS SUCH AN AMAZING READ. AS ALWAYS I LOOK FORWARD TO MORE. I LUV U. I#LUV THIS. AND I KISS YOUR WRINKLY JUICY BRAIN. MWAHMHWAMHWA#recs 📚
840 notes · View notes
volfoss · 7 months ago
Text
it is beyond infuriating how anne rice seems to insist on marius being a positive force in anyone's life ever. like she can't fully commit to exploring the fact he groomed armand and has repeatedly taken away his consent for what marius thinks is best (take the end of TVA as an example) and just kind of flatly puts it in the narrative. there's not really much interest in how these horrific events make marius come across as the worst because EVERYONE loves him. for gods sake, lestat learns from armand exactly what marius did to him in TVL and then proceeds to go find marius and be super friendly to him in the same fucking book. even armand and pandora, two of the people who have MORE than enough right to hate him, do not. it doesnt feel like shes trying to explore the toxicity of the abusive dynamic he traps them in, it just is there. and like yeah ofc the toxic vampire romance series but i think that this should be handled with more care. and it is not ever really framed in a way that she is interested in exploring how marius should easily be one of the most horrific characters in this series because it kind of feels like sa/rape/grooming/other things of that sort are just put there to further plot and not to really get the respect that they deserve in a medium.
#twist rambles#vc posting#grooming mention#for blocklist sorry im on my im really mad about this fucking series soapbox again#to be fucking honest she treats slavery similar. like its just THERE and the characters doing it dont really feel bad about it (much like m#rius doesnt seem to.. feel much if any remorse for arm.and) and it is just like... ok heres another bad thing with no examination. this isn#a super coherent post but i went a bit forward to see how b&g was handling the arm.and stuff and oh my god. oh im so mad. like i just... i#wish so badly that arma.nds abuse was taken seriously other than haha its sooo quirky that mari.us is in a position of power over him and#provides housing money sex comfort etc for him and is abusing him but hes sooo happy with himmmm. like he fucking sold him into sex slavery#and we are supposed to root for him#ask to tag#sorry this is just. its a very triggering part of the books but its something that i kind of keep returning to to mull over because it is#handled really badly. like i think she was trying to go for a lo.lita vibe (iirc she did actually mention nabok.ov as an inspiration) but#didnt really care enough to examine WHY that is an interesting take on the subject matter. not even to get into pan.doras stuff bc its just#really bad but at least he waited until she was an adult i suppose. like i will give anne one thing that she has characters and (poorly han#led) writing that makes you really think and analyze. which i think is where i enjoy media that is like... this kind of sucks at points but#u can tell the authors viewpoints soo transparently. and u can examine it thru this. like i think thats why i find the gr.ell run of GA int#resting too bc u can telll that man is a libertarian and doesnt respect women. and then claims to do so. its interesting to me. anyways#did u guys know she defended bill clin.ton when the monica stuff came out and victim blamed her. just a funny coincidence.#sorry for the really long tag rant but i am sooo fed up with how she treats this topic forever and ever. bc its been this way forever.#anyways back to reading had to get that out. lmk if u need me to tag this bc its a lot of tws :)
17 notes · View notes
deus-ex-mona · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
up next on chapter 36 of idol sengen… _(:3 」∠)_
#(my toxic trait is that i’ll complain about my work endlessly but still end up doing it anyway… eventually.)#there’s rant 1 (ft. a need to deduce what asuna is saying in full) and rant 2 (which is available in full but still…)#there’s also another mona-rambling session in chapter 38… that im not touching with a 50 foot pole#(all you need to know for that mona-rambling [about frusu] is that mona’s frusu oshi is all of them)#(and that she thinks miyu is like *the* pinnacle of centres in idol groups)#(also someone won a junior dance competition but idk who bc it’s obscured lmao)#can i outsource these panels for a corn chip lmaoooo#m. maybe i should’ve actually worked on this while i was still unemployed last month huh…#bc excuse me company wdymmmmmm im starting work next monday?? the interview was just this monday hello?#ig the interviewer was legit when she said ‘so if i asked you if you can start work next monday—’ huh…#sigh… maybe ch 36 next month then… i’ll do my best over the weekend thoughhhhh#seriously though why is this volume so text heavy l m a o i really wanna get to chapter 40 but…#and then there’s the hard to clean text boxes which… aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa#…though i guess i should just count myself lucky that the chapters are still short enough to fit into a single post (with the image limits)#but dang. i just realised that my manga sengen thing has a page on manga updates lmao#who put it there lmaooooo and why is it only up till vol 2? wait. no. what. why does it link to manga.dex#bc dang. someone really had the time to dl the thing image by image? no wonder why they stopped after vol 2…#guess i might as well say why i dont want people to reupload my tls… since we’re in the final stretch and all#so. aside from the obvious ‘idw the creators to find out about it’… i probably made a ton of mistakes while tling it. esp in the early chaps#so i’d like to. y’know. have the chance to update the tls where possible. i’ve done that a couple of times already tbh.#like with rippei’s name post-vol 4 release. and some of the typesetting is p. gross in the early chaps tbvh#i swear tling idol sengen has made me incredibly conscious of grammar and typesetting like you wouldnt believe#esp with official tls… fan tls will always be perfect to me no matter how wonky the wording bc it’s hard but honest work yk#official tls (esp a.i tls) get no concessions from me bc it’s their job that they’re getting paid to do yk.#in any case (if you’ve read this far) if you see any mistakes in the tl please lemme know~~~ please dont hold back on your criticisms ok~~~?#just sound ‘em out in dms here or sth. don’t worry~~~ i won’t eat y’all if you try to correct me~~~~~ unless you’re the md reuploader (jk)#and ik i disabled comments on the other blog (or tried to at least) but that’s bc idw bots to flood the comments bc that’s annoying as he—#anyways sorry for the idol sengen wait (if anyone was waiting for it…) i’ll improve on my work ethic… tomorrow. maybe.
7 notes · View notes
rainingincale · 18 days ago
Text
3 notes · View notes
skunkes · 9 months ago
Note
Did or does anything inspire your art? It’s so fun and unique
I do have artists (both Established and like Peers/Mutuals) I enjoy and I do pluck traits from art I like as I see fit to mold my own but I don't have any conscious inspiration ykwim...ive had ppl tell me my art looks like or reminds them of things i like, whether "vibe based" (stuffed animals) or a specific media (care bears) but i dont consciously draw inspiration from care bears ykwim... I could tell u i loved archie comics as a kid and i love the art style but thats not a good answer to the question bc it doesnt present itself in my work (and if it does its not on purpose) ykwim...i hope dis makes sense.
I always bring up Urasawa when this question comes up, like I love urasawa's art and often save lots of it for inspiration but my work doesnt really ever come out as an emulation of his as a result, it's more osmosed as I try to figure out how I want to draw, bc I haven't seen anyone who draws the way I'd like to yet. (Also using him as an example, as this is how I feel about all my other "inspirations").
Theres tons of different ways to draw every possible trait of a face or body etc, so I just do that, taking shapes and such from other artists i observe along the way without really picking up the influence (and if i do its never for very long), since I've yet to find anything im very happy with
#ive never understood how people do those inspiration boards and you can SEE how all the people they list influence their art#if i could scrounge together enough artists that inspire me then i dont think you'd even be able to tell unless you Guessed#if that makes sense#similarly i do have thousands of folders of artists and mutuals' art i have saved#to go look back at for inspiration...but its not direct inspiration#like zaftiguy2 on twitter (NSFW) is an inspiration of mine....you would never guess though bc what I osmose from his work doesn't#present itself very upfront in my stuff‚ if at all#does this make sense? i feel when ppl ask others this question is bc they wanna see more art adjacent to that of the person theyre asking#but unfortunately its not like that for me ykwim :(#id be much much better if there was someone who drew the way i want to draw that i could copy off of LOL#my art is so bad BECAUSE i feel like im making it from scratch. and im bad at coming up with things#anonymous#skunk mail#so thank u for thinking its unique bc i personally think its very generic as a result#like. entry level art style#off the top of my head artists i LIKE are kemafili manaohu and yawningyawns#on twitter....kemafili is on here though (kemafili1 on twitter)#those are artists i have in my ''fave'' folder. theres others i think but thats the only ones i can think of rn#i also have tons of artist folders saved in general but read my above statements about inspiration#eraserplains is another one... they're on tumblr too#i like raymodule (tumblr) and robottoast (twitter) but again not in a way where im like wow i want to draw exactly like that lets try
17 notes · View notes
runningatypufullspeed · 11 months ago
Text
WOULD YOU GUYS LIKE TO SEE MY FUGLY UGLY ASS ALLEGORY OF THE CAVE X FAHRENHEIT 451 CROSSOVER DRAWING THAT I WAS FORCED TO DO FOR SCHOOL….. ITS SO UGLY AND MONTAG IS
WHITE.
AND THE HOUNDS ARE DISGUSTING THE COLORING IS SO SHITTY AND MILDRED …. Well ok she looks alright kindof but the COLORING ….. SKETCH WAS BETTER but do you guys. Do you still want to see it…….,,,,,,
ALSO NO OFFENSE TO WHITE PEOPLE PLEASE I LOVE YOU GUYS 🫶😁👍 within reason
#like ok maybe it isn’t. THAT bad#NO NO I TAKE THAT BACK I JUST LOOKED AT IT RIGHT NOW AND THE COMPOSITION IS ALL FUCKING VOER THE PLACE#IT. IT IS. THAT BAD#IF YOU GUYS SAY YESS YOULL SEE#ok but nasty bad art aside I know some of you will be asking why white Montag is such a bad thing and#there isn’t anything wrong with it!!! it’s just that for me personally#after I did a bit more thinking I was. physically incapable of perceiving Montag as anything other than POC/nonwhite#so when I look back at my old f451 art and stare into the eyes of a pale skittish twink it just#it doesn’t click. like that isn’t MY Montag if ykwim#now trembling BROWN skittish twink. that’s a different story#AGAIN I DONT have any issues with ppl making their own versions white I just think that . for me specifically. he looked a bit funny#a little off. a bit too crackerish for my liking#where is bros melanin 😭#I’m complaining right now but if I wanted to I could just… go in and try and make the skin tone darker#I might do that depending on how tired I feel after doomscrolling#also if it matters even though I have read the book over at least 8 times now not once have I touched either of the movies.#and it will STAY THAT WAY. until I completely log my notes for the book#then I can move on to the movies 🥰#but I will admit 2018 did sort of lead me to having a change of heart w my design. just a little. just a teensy bit. kinda. sort of?#actually not really now that I think about it#I have my own reasons.#TOO MANY WHITE PEOPLE MY EYES THEY BURN AAAYHHHHH MY EYES OW OW OW OWIEEEE#my Beatty design was so white that my eyes developed stage 4 cataracts#I needed a palate cleanser that WASNT Millie… oh god my Millie design…#she was white there too. terrible#it’s okay… 💔 I’ve since learned and moved on#ARGH GUYS I DONT HATE WHITE PEOPLE I JUST THINK THAT MORE SKIN COLOR VARIATIONS WOULD E NICE
8 notes · View notes
sonknuxadow · 8 months ago
Note
I feel so sure of it yet I also can't find much to back up my claim, but wasn't there some sort of small book, maybe a children's book, or a website story entry of sorts that had Sonic turn back into the werehog for a night that was post-unleashed? I swear it had to do something with a very small lingering bit of dark Gaia energy residing in him. I might be wrong but at the same time I feel so sure about it, and feeling huge happiness that it wasn't impossible for him to revert, even if not entirely canon in a way.
yes that is a real book its called sonic and the tales of terror. its one of those short storybooks for little kids and i dont think many people outside the intended age demographic have read it so nobody ever really talks about it. ive only seen like 2 other people on this entire website besides me mention reading it. but yeah that book had sonic turn into the werehog again and the explanation was that the events of unleashed left him sensitive to dark gaia energy and being around too much of it can make him go werehog mode again. im hesitant to take this book as solid canon because its such an obscure minor thing but its definitely a fun concept . heres some screenshots just to prove that this is real because it kinda sounds made up lmao
Tumblr media Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years ago
Text
...
#theres this feeling i get sometimes. i find it very hard to articulate. its part despair and part awe. dispair at how beautiful the world is#all those intricate little process coming together to organize the chaos. i dont kno y i feel it so deeply or y it hurts so much#because its just. no matters what horrible things r going on in the world. ur body is this miraculous collection of chemicals and reactions#mobile containers of water with a history that spirals back billions of years. and you can hear and see and experience and reflect#and when you die the world goes on spinning without you. if we as humans destroyed this planet past the part of our ability to inhabit it#it wouldnt even matter. there would be continued life past humanity. cosmically we r tiny and insignificant and we dont matter#but were beautiful and wonderful and infinity complex and knowing that leaves me in agony. because i want to kno everything right now but#mind is too small and i walk around with the disorientation of someone whos just been hit in thr face ans i cant focus enough to read#cant make the words make sense and i cant justify the time it would take to try. so i sit on my deck. in the sun. crying as i think about#how the light hit the grass in my front yard the last time i was home. how the cliffs in the backyard are ringed with red lines of iron#separated out as the water leached through the sandstone. how every avaliable surface is stained green as organisms reach upward toward#the sun. and its beautiful and i dont kno y im crying. maybe its bc i cant just throw everything aside and chase that feeling. im not#allowed to feel it. im not allowed to talk abt it in the way i want. bc im afraid no one cares as much as me in the same way. bc when i#talk abt what i study its obscure and academic and so far from what most ppl think abt that they get intimidated and dont try to understand#so i just try not to talk abt it. or maybe im just afraid. bc i have my 1st TA meeting tomorrow and i meet with my new advisor friday#and im worried and im afraid i wont b able to do this in a way that doesnt make me feel like im dying. bc i like to b busy and i like having#a strict schedule but if u throw me that knife im going to stab myself with it bc i dont kno how wield it as a tool without hurting myself#sure ill get the job done. but at what cost? whatever. ill try to b better this time. try to hold tight to the wonder. but that feels like#reaching out into forever. knowing ill never make contact. not knowing what im reaching for.#the closest approximation to the feeling i can find is that scene in the terror. where go0dsir is asking if god is there. any god. and it#doesnt matter bc he can see god in the landscape. in an environment that's so harsh and barren that its killing him slowly in the worst of#ways and its beautiful. its still beautiful to him. there is wonder here. and im wasting my time laying in a dark room crying bc i put#myself into a container so constrictive that the surface snaps and i come spilling out as an angry liquid. smearing away into nothing#unrelated
12 notes · View notes
shivasdarknight · 10 months ago
Text
banging my head on the table
why do people have this urge to come onto other peoples' posts and make it about themselves.
the number of times ive talked about My Own Lore publicly and someones come onto My post to talk about their stuff while completely ignoring everything i said.
like do you not realize how shitty that feels. wouldnt you not want it to happen to you.
then why the FUCK do you do it to others.
#yes this is about xiv twt.#original#a recent SERIES of incidents of this nature reminded me of one that had me delete my own damn thread#i was just spitballing echo ideas and someone came in to take my ideas and start talking about their ideas and how to apply my stuff to#their character and everything witHOUT AT ALL acknowledging ANYTHING i said#(this is also the same person who i dm'd when trying to decide between two voice claims for surkie#and instead of giving feedback they just took one of them for their own character#''hey im thinking kaine or jackass'' ''oh i hadnt considered jackass for my character im gonna use that now! :)'' End Me.)#theres a common excuse that comes with a lot of these and i just. theres a point where you need to Stop using that excuse#because its such a widespread problem of people whove never been in collaborative writing spaces that dont know how to Take Turns Talking#or asking into the other person's stuff. like if you ever wonder why i stop talking to you#think for a second and maybe look back at the conversations to see how equal they are in terms of attention and consideration#at some point i just start ghosting bcuz im too exhausted to deal with people who just come onto my posts where im talking about My story#just to redirect to them and their shit and what they do its just#i already deeply feel like shit about what i write and i know the majority of the people who i talk to dont read my shit#i know of maybe 3 people who have out of How many people who've said they would but never have?#who say they like my writing but never actually touch it?#you dont need to add onto it by turning attention back to yourself when im talking to myself on my twt or tumblr.#what i decide to post about my writing is not a launching pad for you to go on about your wol and i s2g y'all need to stop#it's such assholish behavior
1 note · View note
todayisafridaynight · 2 years ago
Note
NOOOO RIGHT 'CAUSE LIKE... the way the Arakawa Family specialize in faking deaths already, I'm sure Jo was so on top of everything. And who better to walk Masato through it right... flight's the perfect time to get started if it's gonna take like fourteen hours...
BUT YES. YEAH. Like The Day Of he's just paralyzed with worry and caught between wanting to do something and not wanting to go against Aoki... maybe at most he chances calling Arakawa telling him to be careful, because that's not too conspicuous given his role in the dissolution, but Arakawa just gives him the old I'll Be Fine Worry About Yourself... and, you know, why shouldn't he; they've always had their enemies and he's Arakawa the Assassin, he can handle himself... he can let himself have that fleeting hope, but deep down... and THEN he finds out and has to act like he didn't mean anything to him and has to go back to his duties like nothing happened... OUGH
Can I just say. Literally such an insane fucking series of scenes in Coin Locker Baby. Because you get Jo's despondence when he's saying he might have killed Arakawa--he's being a bitch to provoke Ichiban into a fight, but it's also an admission his inaction played a part, isn't it... and then you get him expressing that he's familiar with Ichiban's need to protect Arakawa... and then you get the sheer desperation and insistence in his voice when he says he could never kill him... and then you get--I'm not totally sure how clear it is in English--but you get him actively saying his feelings go deeper than Ichiban's without really explaining how... and then you get the tinge of fondness when he's thinking back on the old days when Arakawa lived up to his name... Like. Why Did They Do That. Any Of That.
ALSO. GOD. I've gotten so much shit the past couple days because I said I want to lock Jo, Kume, and Tendo in a room for five minutes For My Entertainment. Reading those tags felt like coming home honestly 😭 Like, even Ichi was ready to kill someone over Arakawa, and Jo was out here threatening to disembowel people [in the dub]. And I Think They Should Be Allowed To. As A Treat. So FOR REAL the biggest "I'm so glad we get to talk" 😭😭😭
On that note genuinely so funny that I took an extra ten minutes re-rendering the video because I forgot to put the "flashback" part in Arakawa's subtitles at first but then nobody read it 😭
But it's also something I've been mulling over because I'm delusional. Getting actors as high-profile as Nakai and Takei back for just A Flashback is kinda crazy to me because Arakawa and Jo's screen-time took up a full four percent of the entire game [over ten percent of the cutscenes] originally. But then if it's multiple flashbacks equivalent to that... what exactly is going on here that the past is so intertwined...
And Because My Brain Is Evil there is the fact that technically speaking, Yokoyama only said that line was from a flashback, and specified Arakawa wouldn't be appearing in the main story. Now of course a normal person would interpret that as him reassuring the audience he won't appear in any present-day scenes, but part of me was like. Oh So A Side Story Is On The Table [<- it's not it's fucking not it will not be in a million years]
JUST. WHAT ARE YOU GUYS COOKING WHY IS THE KITCHEN DOOR CLOSED WHY ARE THE WINDOWS BLACKED OUT
ANYWAYS that's enough from me for today I am [as always] glad you enjoyed One Missed Call and Kyouen, ABSOLUTE bangers
YAYA THATS WHAT IM SAYIN YOU GET IT. UNSURPRISINGLY BUT YOU GET IT ಥ▽ಥ
no but thats what i MEAN like i already was jokin with myself like 'jo and arakawa probably had A Thing right lmao' BUT THEN THE WAY JO TALKED BOUT ARAKAWA AND OBVI THE GENERAL FACT HE COULDNT KILL HIM REALLY JUST MADE ME (。・∀・??) AND REAALLLY LOOK AT EM CLOSER THE SECOND TIME AROUND like genuinely for what. it will fuck me up until i'm dead and gone SOOO unnecessary and yet they did it..
wack that people wouldnt want to see kume and tendo stuck in a room with jo like. from what i know everyone is a part of the We Hate Kume gang so. cmon. kume will be shredded into candy floss within five minutes. it'll be fun (๑❛ᴗ❛๑)
OK BUT NAKAI AND TSUTSUMI'S STATUS WAS A BIG REASON WHY I DIDNT THINK ARAKAWA NOR JO WOULD BE BACK FOR LAD8 THAT'S SO VALID TO CONSIDER THAT its that idea that just has me especially wondering what the plan is. im not expecting them to have MAJOR parts (or in arakawa's case too many flashback segments) but they MUST have a SUBSTANTIAL amount to warrant bringing them back right..
#long post#snap chats#when it comes to Famous Persons Coming Back i was also just like 'theres no way they could get george takei back right'#LISTEN i know the eng dub is not to be spoken of but it exists and it cant be denied takei's REALLY prolific in the states yeah#so i HAD to ask it was WORTH asking myself. unless they decide to swap arakawa's eng VA but w/e its not overly important#moving on. its ok most people dont read anyway no worries about missing a subtitle </3 a painful reality but. we take W's where we can.#OH BUT TO END /MY/ NIGHT THO i LOVED One Missed Call UGH such a good horror movie#i wanna watch it with my dad so bad he loves horror/suspenseful movies and we used to watch em whenever id visit him#KYOUEN'S A DARLING OF A SHOW SO FAR I THINK IVE SAID THAT ENOUGH but yeah......... BIG love........#i'm almost done with it. if i said i finished it earlier i think i lied i cant remember POINT IS I JUST HAVE THREE EPS#i plan on watching them before stream time tomorrow so that'll be cute :]#buuuut speaking of finishing watching things i Just finished watching the first We Make Antiques movie and UGH#love. love love love it was so silly but also really fascinating to watch... team of forgers thats WILD and i loved it..#i wish i had access to the sequels tho like PLEAASE i wanna watch these two be losers more....#they became domestic with each other so quickly like goddamn.. money can do anything#it can make two dudes trying to con each other work together.. its beautiful.....#ok now thats all from ME for tonight. id talk more on the jo and aoki bits but theres a good chance ill do that during stream#or. ill draw it during stream. me drawing is the same as me talking now innit Let My Bullshit Speak For Me etc etc#ok thats all from me fr this time BYE
5 notes · View notes
jackass-jones · 10 months ago
Note
Derby is for colts and fillies alike so long as they’re 3 year old thoroughbreds. 3 fillies have won the derby, though the race is historically dominated by colts due to speed qualifications. The oaks race is for fillies yes, but the derby is not just for colts like your post implies. Please stop trying to spread false information. Yes people who attend derby are mostly rich white folk but behind the scenes are poc workers and people who genuinely have a love for horses and the sport alike
That feels a bit better to know. For some reason idk people around here just label one race as the girl one and the other as the boy one and it’s like why are you being misogynistic about horses. So it’s nice its not like that in reality but now it’s like weird cuz whyyyy have people around me just been spreading horse misogyny my whole life 🤔
And yeah I didn’t intend to spread misinformation but hm I definitely don’t know derby lore very well I just know some fan culture that I’ve grown up around so that’s definitely not gonna give me a very clear picture so idk what I was thinking. I’m mostly just fed up with some of the ways people have treated the derby in my area and really just fed up with family rn so I was being bitter but I shouldn’t have made any like. Statements about the actual derby when I don’t really know what I’m talking about at all and also most things in Kentucky culture and history have a really interesting background and there’s always gonna be passionate people and poc involved that don’t really get shown on the surface cuz. Racism. I do have my big grudges against these rich people from out of state or from the rich neighborhoods of Louisville who treat the derby like some big spectacle but then scoff at the rest of the state and clutch their pearls in fear when they have to park in a closed off parking lot where they gotta pay a black man for parking and then walk through neighborhoods they deem filthy just to get to the derby but eh fuck them. Let’s be here for horses and kentucky history and culture and just celebrate the amazing shit that we have going on
0 notes
cloudybarnes · 1 year ago
Text
Secret Admirer
Pairing: slytherin boys x reader
Summary: you never get mail in the morning, not until one day you receive a letter from an anonymous sender, a secret admirer. From that day forward, you’ve been getting letters, poems, and cute little notes each morning at breakfast. His words were sweet, and as you began to fall for them, your quest of figuring out who sent them only grew.
Word Count: 4.1k+
Masterlist
note: trying something new! basically I dont wanna spoil who her secret admirer is, so I’m gonna call it slytherin boys x reader hehe guess you’ll have to read til the end to see who sent her the letters ;)
✰  ✰  ✰
“Theodore Nott, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!” You shouted. 
You reached across the table in the great hall where Theo sat directly in front of you. He had stolen all of the bacon off of your breakfast plate and refused to give it up. Mornings were always quite hectic at the slytherin table, but this was downright unacceptable.
“Nope,” he smirked as he popped a piece into his mouth, “they were all out when I went up for breakfast. This bacon is mine now, sweetheart.”
You huffed, and sat back down in your seat. “You’re ridiculous. If you weren’t so damn late all the time, maybe you would have had some bacon of your own.”
“Here (Y/N),” Enzo smiled from his seat right next to you. “You can have some of my bacon.” He picked the best looking pieces and put them on your plate. 
“Aw, Enzo!” You grinned as you picked a piece up and ate it happily. “This is why you're my best friend.”
“Hey!” Pansy shouted from the other side of you. “Thought I was your best friend.”
“You didn’t give up a piece of bacon for her,” Draco smirked, “you’ve been demoted.”
Mattheo gruffed. “Enzo, you’re kind of mean, you know that? (Y/N) complains she’s all out of bacon and you jump to give her a piece, but when I say I need someone to do my charms homework for me, you don’t even try to lift a finger.”
“Mattheo, how many times do I have to tell you,” Enzo said, “I’m never gonna do your homework. And it’s not fair to compare that to giving up a piece of bacon! I don't even like bacon all that much!”
“Dude!” Blaise gasped from next to Draco, “if you don’t like bacon you should have passed that down this way a long time ago.”
Pansy scoffed and shook her head. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”
“Hey,” you whined as you ate another piece of bacon, “I’m the least idiot of the bunch, right Pans?”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, (Y/N/N).”
You grinned, about to rebuttal when the morning owl dropped an envelope in front of you.
“What’s this?” You questioned as you picked it up. 
“Uh, I think it’s quite obviously a letter, (Y/N/N).” Mattheo said as he stuffed his mouth full of bacon. “And, to think, you were trying to say you’re the least idiot of us.” He laughed.
“Oi,” Theo knocked his shoulder against Mattheo’s. “Leave her be. I’ve never seen her get a letter before, I’m curious.”
Draco shifted slightly in his seat. “Who’s it from, (Y/N/N)?”
“Nevermind who it’s from,” Blaise chuckled, “I wanna know what it says.”
“Why would you wanna know what it says and not know who it’s from?” Enzo asked, “That's like half the fun.”
You shrugged as you tore open the envelope. Opening the folds of the letter, your cheeks started to warm as you read what was inside. 
“What is it?” Pansy asked as she leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse. 
“It says, uh,” you cleared your throat, a little bit flustered. “It says ‘people love to stare up at the stars, glimmering as they might in the night sky, yet everyone is too scared to enjoy the beauty that is the sun. you are my sun, and I would willingly go blind to catch even just a glimpse of you each day.’”
You friends all stared at you in shock. Draco, Blaise and Mattheo had their mouths hung open in shock. Enzo blushed a little bit, Theo had his eyebrows raised like he appreciated the words written on the page, and Pansy all but squealed as you read the letter. 
“Oh my god, I think I’m going to combust,” Pansy swooned. 
“Who’s it from?” Theo asked.
You shrugged, “I don’t know.” You flipped the letter to the back to see if it was signed at all. “It’s only signed with a heart.”
“That is so romantic!” Pansy squealed as she clasped her hands around your arm. “Our sweet (Y/N) has a secret admirer!”
“Wonder who it could be,” Draco said as he flicked his fingers in motion to hand him the letter. 
You complied, and passed the note to him. 
“I don’t know,” he said as he flipped it all around. “The handwriting sort of looks familiar.”
“Maybe it’s someone you know?” Theo suggested as he grabbed the letter from Draco’s hands. He took it upon himself to check it out a time or two before passing it to Mattheo’s eager grasp.
“I think it’s kind of funny,” Mattheo chuckled. “What if it’s some first year trying to make their move on you?”
You shuttered. “Merlin, I sure hope not. I honestly don’t think a first year would be able to write something so beautiful.”
“Yeah, no way,” Pansy shook her head. “Mattheo, you’re just jealous you weren’t the one who sent (Y/N) this letter. Maybe she’d give you a chance if you did something romantic, or just not annoying for once.”
“First,” Mattheo said, “ouch. Second, who says I’m not the one who wrote (Y/N) this love letter?”
“Mattheo, you wouldn’t know romance if it hit you with a ten foot pole.” Pansy said. 
“Hey!” Mattheo complained. “Someone tell her I’m romantic.”
“Hell no,” Draco scoffed. “You’re ‘bout as romantic as bloody boil, mate.” 
You laughed as Mattheo scrunched his face up. The bells chimed signaling the end of breakfast and the start of first class. 
“I’m not too worried about it,” you said as you stood and started packing your stuff up. “It’s just a little letter. No harm in it.”
“But you don’t want to know who sent it?” Pansy asked as she grabbed her belongings as well. 
You shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I’m not silly enough to expect something to come from this; it’s just a note. It could be a prank for all we know.” 
“No one who writes like that is doing it as a prank,” Theo remarked. 
“Well, still, whatever the reason may be, I’m not gonna go out looking for this person. No matter how sweet the words are.” You smiled, “I’m gonna head to class, bye guys.”
On your way to class, you couldn’t help but recite the words written in the letter. They had made your heart flutter, as stupid as that sounds. You slightly resented the way it made you feel as it was only a few measly words on paper, but the romantic part of you couldn’t help but want to know who was behind them. 
✰  ✰  ✰
In your last class of the day, you finally were able to see your good friend Luna Lovegood. You had been waiting all morning to have class with her so you can inform her of the letter you received that morning. 
“And it was just so poetic, Luna. No one has ever said anything like that about me before.”
She smiled at you as you mindlessly drew on your assignment. “I think it sounds quite lovely. Do you have any idea who it may be from?”
You shook your head. “No idea. I don’t even think I know anyone who writes, well, anything.” 
“What about that boy Enzo you always hang out with?” Luna suggested. “I’ve got him in my literature class, he’s very talented.”
You thought to yourself for a second. Could it be possible Enzo was your secret admirer? You’d been friends for so long, and he’d always be especially kind to you.
Well, he’s especially kind to everyone, now that you think about it. 
“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I guess I just never would have expected it to be one of my friends, let alone Enzo.”
“I wouldn’t rule out your group of friends,” Luna said with a smile, “it could really be any one of them.” 
“You think so?” 
“Well, maybe not all of them, but I think it could be a good place to start if you were wanting to figure out who it is.”
As you pondered over Luna’s words, Slughorn made it a point to reiterate there was no talking allowed during the assignment. 
You rolled your eyes and got back to work, waiting for this class to be over so you could finally figure out who wrote you the letter. 
✰  ✰  ✰
Back in the common room you saw Pansy, Draco, and Enzo sitting on the couches. 
“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Pansy smiled as she scooted over and patted the spot next to her. “Find out anything new about your secret admirer?”
You smiled with a roll of your eyes as you sat with her. You kicked your shoes off and folded your legs under your body. “No, but I think I’ve got an idea brewing of how to find them.”
“Oh,” Draco smirked from the couch across from you. He folded his arms over his chest, “do tell, (Y/N), I’m very curious to see who it could be.” 
You shook your head, teasingly, “not a chance, Malfoy. I’m not giving up my secrets til I get to the bottom of this thing.” 
Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, doll, if you wanna be secretive about your already secret admirer, I respect it.”
Enzo shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. “It’s kind of strange though that they went out of their way to write something to you but kept it a secret. It just makes me a little apprehensive.”
“Oh, chill out, scaredy cat,” Pansy said. “(Y/N) will be fine, and if it’s someone weird at least she’s got us to look out for her.”
You grinned and wrapped your arms around Pansy’s neck. “Quit getting all sweet on me, Pans.”
She chuckled and playfully pushed you away. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not getting sweet, don’t get it twisted.”
You chuckled. “I think I’m gonna head up, got lots of scheming to get to,” you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 
You stood up from the couch and Pansy stood with you. “Farewell, boys, it’s been awful as usual.” She said with a smirk. 
“Thank Salazar you’re leaving,” Draco said to her. “Your presence was such a nuisance.” 
Pansy snarled at him and dramatically turned away to head up the stairs. You and Enzo shared a short laugh before you followed her up the stairs to your shared bedroom. 
✰  ✰  ✰
The next morning, you were last to the dining hall for breakfast. 
“Finally, she makes it,” Mattheo called out before taking a swig of his orange juice. 
You huff and settle into your seat between Enzo and Pansy. “I know, I overslept something horrible this morning.”
Since you were so late, the kitchen staff had already stopped serving breakfast meaning you were going without this morning. 
Theo glanced at you from across the table and pushed his plate towards you. “Here,” he said, “take anything you want.”
You looked down at saw scrambled eggs, french toast, and sausage links on his plate. 
“Really?” You grinned as you grabbed a sausage link from his plate. 
Theo nodded, “yeah, can’t have you go without eating. Lord only knows what a monster you can be without food.” He teased with a small smirk. 
You crinkled your nose up at his and grabbed a piece of french toast as well. “I’m gonna let that slide since you were nice enough to give up your breakfast. Don’t make me regret my kindness.”
Theo chuckled and pulled his plate back to him, glancing up at you before delving back into his plate. 
Mattheo tried to reach his hand over to Theo’s plate but was met with a slap on the wrist. 
“Ow!” Mattheo said as he cradled his wrist in fake hurt. “Theo, how could you? I thought we had something special.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “You got more food on your plate then the rest of us combined. I think you’ll be alright.”
You chuckled, but a thought crept into your mind. “Hey, guys, uh, did the post come today?” You asked. 
Draco raised his eyebrow with a smirk. “Waiting for another letter, are we?”
Your face burned as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna get to the bottom of who it is.” 
“You’ll find ‘em, (Y/N/N),” Pansy said, “even if I have to interrogate everyone we know. We’ll get down to the bottom of it.” 
Just as she said that, the morning owl came swooping down towards you and dropped a small slip of paper in front of you. 
Draco smirked, “Looks like someone really wants your attention, (Y/N/N).”
You tried to hold back your smile as you unfolded the small post it note. 
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read out to them, “'I love to see you smile, especially when you’re smiling at me.’ Aw, that’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“Don’t tell me you’re starting to get sweet for this mystery man,” Blaise interrupts. 
You shrug as you fold the note back up. “I don’t know, it is pretty sweet, no? And this must mean it’s someone I know personally because they said I smile at them.”
“Oh Godric,” Mattheo grinned, “you’ve fallen for a mystery man.”
“No I haven’t!” You protest. “I just think it’s sweet and now I know it’s someone I’m friends with and not some creepy first year.” 
“Wait,” Theo said, “how do you know it’s someone you’re friends with?”
“Because it says I smile at them,” you said obviously. “Who else do I smile at?”
“(Y/N), I hate to break it to you,” Pansy said as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “but you’re the most smiley slytherin I’ve ever met.”
You shrugged off her hand with a fake glare. “Hey! Give me some credit, I can be bad sometimes.”
Enzo chuckled, this is the first time he spoke all conversation. “You’re too sweet to be bad, (Y/N/N).”
You grinned and playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just know it’s someone I know. I can feel it. It’s not some random person, it can’t be.” 
The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. You and your friends stood up to leave. You couldn’t help but think about the notes you received, pondering on who it could possibly be. 
✰  ✰  ✰
“Post is running late this morning,” Draco noted as the clock struck 8:26 with no sight of the morning owl. 
You were a tad disappointed. You had pondered all day yesterday about who it could be. You’ve narrowed it down quite a bit, and you think Luna may be on to something. While you don’t exactly think for sure that it’s Enzo, you do think you’ve narrowed it down to your group of close friends. 
You really just can’t see anyone else knowing you well enough to be this fascinated with you. The only one out of your friend group that you completely had ruled out is Blaise. 
Blaise was definitely out because out of the whole friend group, he was the least close with you. Frankly, you guys just don’t talk nearly as much as you talk to the rest of them. 
“Great,” Mattheo gruffed, “how will I be entertained this morning without (Y/N)‘s secret stalker and his confession of love.”
Okay, maybe Mattheo was out too. 
“Oi,” Theo piped up. “Don’t knock it too hard, (Y/N) seems to be enjoying herself with the letters.” 
You blushed a little as you shrugged. “I don’t want to seem weird by how invested I am in it, but I just think it’s sweet. No one’s ever really expressed this kind of feeling for me, so… you know,” you shrugged awkwardly, your face definitely beet red by now. 
“Well I for one am extremely invested in this,” Pansy said. “I’m lowkey jealous that I’m not the one with a secret admirer. What I wouldn’t give for someone to think of me that way.” 
“Maybe someday someone will like you, Pansy,” Enzo said reassuringly. 
“We might all be dead by the time that happens, but who knows, it might happen,” Mattheo said. 
Pansy gasped with a glare. “Wow what crawled up your ass this morning?”
Mattheo shrugged and focused his attention back to his breakfast plate. 
“Anyway,” Draco said, “I’m intrigued as well. I think I’ve got an idea who it could be, but I'm not quite positive.” 
You parked up at that. “Really? Who’s your guess?”
Draco smirked, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He teased. 
You glared at him, “Malfoy, if you know who it is you better spill.”
“I’m not saying I know who it is, I’m just saying I have a hunch at who it may be.”
“Oh!” Enzo exclaims as he points up in the air, “here comes the owl.”
You grin in anticipation as the owl drops a little note down in front of you. It was a larger note than yesterday, but this time it didn’t have something sweet written on it. 
It had a clue. 
“It just says ‘being your friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, though I’d be lying if I said i didn’t want to be more.’” You read. 
“So it is one of you!” Pansy shouted as she pointed her finger towards everyone at the table. 
Draco smirked, “that was my hunch. ‘Had a feeling it was one of these blokes.”
“And who says it’s not you, Malfoy?” Mattheo questioned with a raise of his brow. 
“Please,” Draco scoffed, “if I wanted to woo (Y/N) she’d be mine by now.” 
“Oh big talk from down that end,” Pansy rolled her eyes. 
“I could get anyone I want,” Draco puffed his chest. “I don’t need to be anonymous to do so.” 
“Hey, don’t hate on my letters, Draco.” You complained. “Least they got the balls to say something.” 
“Barely counts as having balls when they won’t even say who they are.” Mattheo countered. 
You huffed as your table fell into somewhat of a silence. Conversations picked up without you as your thoughts trailed off. 
Theo had been extremely quiet this entire time. While he was never the chatter bug, it was odd having gone almost the entire breakfast without hearing from him. 
As everyone else was engaged in conversation, you stared at the boy sitting across from you. His head was down as he played with his breakfast, pushing it around with his fork. 
You lightly kicked his leg under the table. 
Theo’s head perked up. His eyes stared into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t remember what you wanted to say to the boy. 
His eyebrow raised in question as a small smirk glazed his lips. 
You blushed a little. “I-uh just wanted to see if you were alright. You didn’t really say too much the whole time we’ve been here.”
Theo shrugged as his smile dropped. “yeah, just don’t got too much input.” 
Your heart swelled. You really had turned each morning to revolve around you and your secret pen pal. 
“Sorry, Theo. I didn't mean to annoy you with all my talk of the letters.”
He shook his head. “You could never annoy me, doll.” 
Your heart beat like crazy. 
“Still, though, I feel bad about how much I’ve put into this. Let’s talk about something else.” You offered, “how’s class going?”
Theo chuckled and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Shit. I’m drowning in assignments and got two quizzes coming up that I’m just not ready for.” 
The bell rang. 
Theo groaned. “Got one next class. I think I might skip, though. Give myself some more time to prepare for it.”
As everyone started walking out of the dining hall, you grabbed Theo’s arm and pulled him back. 
His eyes widened slightly, but quickly reverted back to normal. 
“Maybe I‘ll skip with you,” you said, “if you’ll have me, that is. I can help you study. What class is it?”
Theo hesitated. “It’s, uh, herbology. ‘m not very good with plants and all that.”
You grinned, “I can help! I’m not too bad with flowers and plants.”
Theo nodded, “yeah, I could really use the help.”
“Okay, you wanna go to the library then?”
Theo shook his head. “I’ve got a good spot. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. 
You followed him all the way out to the courtyard towards the opposite end of the school. You walked until you reach a large bench with intricate designs on the backing and arm rests. 
Theo took a seat. “Figured this would be good as any. Least now we can look at some plants up close, eh?”
You chuckled and took a seat next to him. “Yeah, sounds great, Theo. You got your textbook?”
He nodded and dug through his bag to pull it out. Once he handed it to you, you started flipping through the pages to get to the important material. 
“I’ve got the herbology exam 4th period, so I can help you study and it’ll help me study too! Win, win.”
Theo grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sounds good, doll.”
Your cheeks blushed. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. “I like when you call me doll.”
Your smile dropped. “Oh, geez, I did not mean to say that out loud.”
Theo’s face remained blank. That just made you more nervous. 
“Great, now I’ve weirded you out.” You exasperated. “I’m really sorry, Theo, I didn’t mean to-“
“I’m not weirded out, doll.” He cut you off. “Was just a little stunned is all. Didn’t expect you to say something like that.”
You thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than it already was, but somehow it did. 
“Well, still,” you mumbled as you looked down at the textbook again, “sorry.”
Theo sat for a minute, watching as you flipped through the book. Your eyebrows furrowed a little in aggravation. You were annoyed at yourself for how stupid you were being. It was Theo for Salazar sake. 
Though, you couldn’t help but admire the boy. He was gorgeous, for one, but he was also charming and witty. He was sweet and generous. You couldn’t deny you were attracted to him, but you had never thought he would see you in the same light. 
“(Y/N)?” Theo called. 
You looked up into his eyes. 
Theo stared at you, taking in each one of your features. Your eyes, your lips, your nose. You shifted a little, way too aware of his gaze on you. 
“Theo?” You called back. His gaze shifted back to your eyes. 
Before you could say anything, he softly spoke, “I’m the one sending you those letters, (Y/N/N).” 
You stared at him in shock. 
No way. 
“Y-you’re the one who wrote me the letters?” 
He slowly nodded his head. Theo’s lip was drawn in between his teeth. “Is, uh, are you disappointed?”
“What?” you exclaimed. 
He shrugged, “I mean, you just really seemed to like the letters, and I know you wanted to know who it was, so I just hope I haven’t disappointed you in the revelation.”
You shook your head. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.”
Theo’s head shot up to look at you. “Really?”
You smiled and nodded. “Mhm, I like you Theo. I have for a while now, actually, I just thought you’d never give a chance.”
He laughed. “You thought I’d never give you a chance? I thought you’d never give me a chance.”
You laughed loudly together. When it finally subsided to quiet chuckles, you said,  “I really like you, Theo.”
Theo’s smile grew. In a quick moment, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. 
You gasped against his lips, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. His textbook fell off your lap as he pulled you closer by the waist. 
You kissed him until you couldn’t kiss anymore. Finally pulling back, Theo’s grin was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, even with his lips a little puffy from your kiss. 
“I really like you, Theodore.”
He grinned, “I really like you, more (Y/N).”
11K notes · View notes
r-1-der · 1 month ago
Text
warnings: scissoring, some dirty talk, first time bottom sevika, strap (sevika receiving), minor boob stuff, not proof-read
you noticed it happen whenever she ground her pussy into yours, her clit would slowly stray from your own. her head tipped back and her mouth, with her breathless moans, dropped lower the lower she got your throbbing wet clit against herself.
it would've hurt with how hard she was grinding into you, her hands harsh against your hips as she pulled your movements into her own while she dragged her soaked lips over your clit with a throaty groan, moving her helpless hands to grip onto your thigh splayed over her own. it would have hurt was it not for her weeping hole sucking your clit in.
trembling and whining she came like that. humping your clit like a dog, her own staying untouched.
that was it, really. the way her hips angled against yours, how she changed the course of them. whenever you climbed on top of her to ride her stupid she leaned back further and grabbed onto your hips firmly, making damn sure she could feel the contours of your clit rubbing her opening, teasing her.
being the attentive lover you were you took notice of her behaviour. her growing disinterested in having her clit fumbled for. she still enjoying it of course. but feeling your tongue trail through her wetness, flat and firm down from her clit to her needy hole, your licking over her entrance while she clenched for it, then you pushing inside to taste her? it drove her crazy.
"i want to try something," you say one evening, straddling her where she laid in bed. you'd been making out for a while, her tanktop was pulled down below her chest, her flesh littered with darkening hickeys.
"mhm?" she replies lazily, just basking in your slow comforting attention.
you trailed your fingers down between her breasts, and leaned down to her ear, your lips brushing her skin.
"i want... to fuck you with your strap," you whisper into her ear. she tried schooling it, but her twitching hands and hitched breath was unmistakable.
"you want it.... dont you? hm...? want to feel me deep inside?"
"stop..." she whispers back breathlessly as your hand trails up to her jaw, turning her head to look into her eyes, noting her pinched eyebrows and needy eyes.
"tell me you want it..."
for a moment her eyes search yours, like shes worried. reassuringly your fingers soothe over her cheek.
"tell me you want it, sevika..." your lips brush against her scarred cheek, kissing her lightly.
sevika tensed beneath you, her teeth dug into her lip.
"...fuck.... fuck- i want it," she admits quietly, turning her head to brush her nose into your cheek.
pushing your luck a bit you leaned back to look down at her face, a small smile on your lips.
"want what?"
rolling her eyes she sighed gruffly while a small laugh bubbled from you.
"im just teasing." your lips find hers again, resuming your slow make-out with a sweet hum.
the previous tension built up with each move of your lips. sevika moved one of her legs up, slotting yours between her own with a relieved sigh into your mouth.
you slowly rolled your hips against hers. her soft moans encouraging you more than her hands guiding your movements.
your moved you lips back down to her neck while you pawed at her bare chest.
"...are you going to?"
"going to what?" you ask absentmindedly, distracted by her strong thigh between yours, brushing your wet lips against her scarred neck. sevika huffed your name, pushing at your shoulder.
stalling your hips you pull back to look at her dazed but pointed expression. she wouldnt admit it completely, but she did want you to fill her up and fuck her good.
you just nod dumbly, reading her every want in that one look.
she choked off a deep whine when you finally settled between her spread legs, slowly pushing the head of her own strap into her. her head pushed back into the pillow as she bared her throat, the deep ache she had been ignoring being tended to so fucking well with your final grind into her.
her hand stayed tightly fisting at the sheets, and her voice choked off with each trying push of your hips.
you took notice of her uncharacteristic silence and chuckled into her neck.
"you feel it in your throat?" you murmur as you slowly and deeply fuck into her. with nothing but an uneasy groan from her, a twitch of her hips, you reach below her neck to support her.
"talk to me... tell me how good it feels..." you urge her as you roll her hips, her strap, into her needy pussy. her body tensed under you and she gasped for a breath of air just to push it back out in a wanton groan, allowing her head to fall back further with your hand beneath her neck, squeezing.
"oh so good you cant even talk," you muse, panting softly with your own movements.
you understood now why sevika liked fucking you so much, why she enjoyed having you spread out for her like this. it felt fucking good, not just the pressure of the strap against yourself, but seeing sevika, big bad sevika, choking up on your dick felt good.
"ahh, yeah... poor pussy's just been crying for it, 's that why you keep trying to fuck yourself on my clit?"
honestly she had hoped you would be too fucked out to notice her newfound proclivity. she'd just been so needy lately, just wanted a good deep fill of you.
with some fumbling she got one of your hands onto her boobs again, trying to ground herself as her hips desperately rolled into yours, feeling the good stretch of her own strap splitting her open.
she finally caught up to her breath, moans being drawn out of her dark lips between her heaving gasps. she didnt bother trying to talk back, she was so wound up.
groping at her boobs you leaned further down, pushing your chest into hers, trapping your hand between you. very briefly her hand relented her tight grip on slowly soaking mattress to pull you closer, needing you close enough for your breaths to mix.
you swore you could feel her clenching around the silicone, just pulling you in again and again to repeat that deep slow grinding that had her eyes rolling back.
the harness pressed perfectly into her clit too from how close she had you wrapped up, she knew she wouldnt last as she felt her stomach tense up.
"give me more," she managed to force out, urging a few drawn out hard thrusts that hit perfectly inside her, rendering her boneless under the pleasure before she trembled through her orgasm, oddly quiet as her breath involuntary held itself, choking into an almost painful groan that scratched its way out of her.
she was left panting heavily, twitching, eyes closed and blissed out as you slowly came to a stop.
"you look happy," you mused, peppering kisses onto her face. a tired smile spread over her face as she reached up to stroke over your hair.
"who knew you had it in you," she muses right back, lazily opening her eyes to admire you.
"who knew you wanted it in you," you tease, dipping down for a proper kiss to cut off any grumbling bound to happen.
1K notes · View notes
siriuslylantsov · 2 months ago
Text
sobriquet
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: spencer reid x reader
description: spencer reacts to you calling him a nickname for the first time.
tags: fluff fluff and more fluff, established relationship, fem!reader, kissing and all around domesticity, bit cheesy, little teasing, spencer gets momentarily overwhelmed with how much he feels but i dont get into the nitty gritty.
a/n: sobriquet is the french word for nickname. anywho i just need spencer reid to call me angel. hope you like this! happy reading :)
wc: 1.3k
Tumblr media
◦ /ˈsəʊbrɪkeɪ/ ◦
the bright noon sun filters through the sheer curtains as you wake up, groggily pulling yourself into a sitting position. you rub at the sleep in your eyes with a low grumble. the space beside you is vacant, you run a hand over the spencer shaped chasm indented into the mattress. it's gone cold so you assume he's been up for a while, having let you sleep in, probably perched on the couch, book in hand.
you drag yourself into the living room of spencer's apartment, despite the daylight scattered across the space, it still feels cosy, relentlessly cosy. which is probably why you spend so much time here, like you are now. a rare case-free weekend off presented itself to the team, so the two of you decided on spending a lazy 2 days together.  
you bend at the waist and wrap your arms around spencer's shoulders when you find him on the couch. he lets out a slightly distracted hum, pressing his lips to your forearm in a kiss, though it's more open mouthed as you catch him in the middle of reading a passage. you squeeze him once and walk to the kitchen. he follows you, needing a refill to his coffee.
both of you work in silence, spencer engrossed in the pages in front of him as the moka pot heats up on the stove while you grab the carton of milk from the fridge. when you open the cabinet for the box of cereal that resides there, you don't find it. strange. you open the one beside it in hopes that you'd find it there, you don't.
“baby, where's the cereal?” you ask spencer, peering behind boxes and packets for a glimpse of the tell-tale red of the kelloggs logo.
his eyes dart up from his book, finally tearing away from the words. did you just call him baby?
you push up from your knees, turning to look at him expectantly, “spencer?”
his eyes are wide, eyebrows pinched up ever so slightly that a line forms in the middle, you want to smooth it out. he looks alarmed, so you cross over to him, taking the book out of his hands and setting it on the counter, turning off the heat to the stove at the same time.
“hey, are you okay?” your voice is low so as to not alarm him further, but still pressing to know what’s wrong.
apart from the alarm, his face is unreadable. “what did you just say?”
you graze a hand over his forearm, “are you okay?”
“no. before that.”
“um... where's the cereal? spencer, are you-”
“you called me baby,” he interjects. barely a whisper but you catch it.
oh. your lips part, trying to get a read on his face, you can't. “did i?” you respond meekly, playing dumb in case he didn't like it. the two of you haven't experimented with nicknames much, the relationship being fairly new and only used to addressing eachother by first or last names.
he nods, lips curling into a small smile. oh. “say it again?”
you want to protest but he's quick to stop you with a “please.”
“baby,” you chew your bottom lip nervously, searching for any recoil in his eyes, you find none. his smile only grows.
“again.”
“spence,” you whine, feeling embarrassed.
“please,” he repeats, eyes big and imploring.
you sigh, how do you possibly deny him? chagrin be damned.
“baby,” you whisper, almost cooing, as you raise a hand to cup his cheek.
teeth peek out of his mouth now, grinning wholeheartedly. his arms find solace around your waist as he pulls you in, tucking his head into your neck. you can feel his smile on your skin, and you giggle.
“i take it you like it then?” you murmur, threading your fingers into his hair the back of his head.
he presses a kiss to your neck. “of course i do, angel,” he responds, words trailing off tentatively.
angel. your brain runs circles around the way the word sounded coming from him, how good it sounded, angel. in a matter of seconds, he’d managed to turn the tables and you understand why he reacted how he did when you called him baby, you wouldn't mind him calling you angel again either.
you pull back to look at his face. he's a shy and sheepish thing when you take him in. your face isn't as unreadable as his was, cheeks flushed and eyes crinkled at the corners as you try to bite back a smile, so he calms easily. 
“that's new,” you remark, poking at his chest.
“yeah,” he says, pulling you closer as he leans against the counter. “you like it?”
“mhm,” you hum giddily, rising on your toes to kiss him. 
his lips move against yours gently as he kisses you back. his tongue prods at the seam of your lips, urging you to let him in. you nip it before pulling back.
“i've got morning breath,” you explain simply, alleviating his confusion.
he's indifferent when he leans back in, “does it look like i care?”
you give him a quick peck on the nose before exhaling a puff of hot air into his face, trying to drum up as much bad breath as you can. you laugh as his face scrunches up in mild disgust, nose wrinkled, and lips pulled into a pout. he's quick to recover though, head dipping to kiss you again. sighing into the kiss, you push his face from yours and hide under his chin. his arms move higher and wrap across your shoulders.
“in the hallway,” spencer says abruptly.
you hum into his chest in confusion, and he explains further, “the cereal is in a bag in the hallway. i finished the last of it earlier and went to go buy some more.”
“you went grocery shopping? just for cereal?” your voice is muffled against his shirt, but he can make out what you're saying.
“yeah, gotta make sure my angel is fed,” he murmurs into your hair that tickles his chin.
you groan a little at how corny he sounds but bury further into him regardless, clearly flustered. he huffs out a chuckle at your state.
“oh don't be so smug,” you grumble, lifting your head up to look at him. god was he pretty.
“angel,” he drags out, almost taunting, but inherently laced in affection. he can't help it, you are an angel personified to him, the name was only fitting. and it wasn't often that you were on the tail end of the teasing, so he's making sure to take advantage of whatever was making you all giddy as if you couldn't do the same thing to him tenfold. 
when he sees the glint in your eyes though, he knows you're about to. he braces himself internally as you hold his face with two soft hands, cradling him. he shifts slightly to kiss your palm, admittedly trying to avoid your gaze. 
“beautiful,” you start, and he's already done for, turning his head further into your hand. you're not having it, so you bring him back to you, firmer grip this time but fingers still as soft as before. “perfect,” you continue, words also firm, “angel boy.” 
you seem to have rendered him silent, an easy thing for you to do because it's you, chipping away at any and all words he had stored simply because of what you called him. it's unbelievable that a mere nickname could reduce him to this–he’ll be sure to try it on you later. but for now, he just hugs you again, dropping his head back into your neck and arms around your waist. yours loop around his neck, rooting his head where it is. 
your fingers press into his scalp, massaging lightly. you continue murmuring little things into the silence, turning your head so he hears you better. angel, baby, genius boy, pumpkin, sweet cheeks, shnookums. 
his head lifts up, bewildered, “shnookums?”
“hey! i don't know what you're into,” you lean back in surrender, hoping to bring some humour into this because frankly, he was overwhelmed, and you knew.
he lets out a low chuckle, pressing his forehead to yours and you melt sleepily against him.
“i love you,” you whisper.
“i love you too, angel girl.” 
m.list | reblogs and replies are appreciated!
1K notes · View notes
itsrlymine · 1 month ago
Note
i apologize for the really long ask but i really wanted to share my thoughts and i would make my own loa blog but i dont have it in me to deal with anons so i fear i will dump them all on you 😔 first off i want to say THANKKKK YOUUUUUU you literally changed my manifestation journey i used to be really into manifestation back in 2021/2022 and i was trying to manifest my dream face but it never happened no matter how much i affirmed or listened to subs or anything so i was just like fuck it this manifesting stuff isnt real imma just move on with my life and thats how i went about my life until you popped up on my dashboard a month ago and usually i would click not interested on any loa content but i was like you know what lemme give this stuff a chance again bc i did try the non manifesting route and it didnt work out bc when i tell you my life went DOWNHILL i used to protect myself from negative experiences by having the belief that i was simply the exception to terrible stuff but the moment i left the loa behind and was like no thats unrealistic anything can happen well guess what!! so many bad stuff happened in my life the last 2 years its genuinely crazy. so i was like lemme try this again and i went through your blog and really tried to materialize everything you were saying and read it with the attitude that what you are saying IS real instead of the doubting attitude i had towards loa advice/info back in 2022 and things really shifted for me.
so the first thing i learned is that MANIFESTATION IS REAL and more importantly NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE what i went through these past two years was proof to me that manifestation is real because once i adopted that negative mindset and dropped any positive beliefs i had my life became a nightmare and all those terrible thoughts manifested right before my eyes. for example i used to believe that i always looked pretty no matter what, this was just something part of my belief system but when i abandoned the law and everything i told myself no thats crazy i cant mAniFeSt looking pretty its unrealistic if im not pretty then im just not and bro when i tell you i was at my lowest appearance wise I WAS AT MY LOWESSTT my classmates at school would come up to me and tell me i looked so different and so dull even my mom would say the same stuff to me and tell me i changed i also noticed a difference when i looked in the mirror. the reason why i felt like manifestation wasnt real was because it just seemed really crazy to me, i felt like things materializing out of nowhere and appearances changing drastically was just like something fantastical and just not possible here in the real world. well i am here to tell you that is NAWT THE CASE! the world is not logical and im gonna tell you why. most of us here have grew up religious, and whats more illogical than religion? there are so many stories in the bible where illogical stuff happen like youre telling me some guy can turn water into wine? doesnt that sound like something out of a fantasy movie? but it happened, right? you believe in the bible so you believe in all the stuff that happened in it even the magical stuff. and another thing with growing up religious is that we always hear stories about miracles where for example a neighbor who was really sick suddenly woke up completely healthy. and we also were taught that we can ask god for anything and that god can make anything happen. i remember when my dad would teach me about religion he would say that god can make the grass is purple if he wanted to. it isnt just in religion but also in another spiritual communities and stuff they also have their own stories where things that dont really make sense logically happen. this goes to show that the world and humanity were never logical and that illogical things can happen, they've been happening since the dawn of time. people just came up with their own explanations. so get that thought that you cant change your entire face because its too crazy out of your head because it isn't. anything is possible. we literally live on a rock and we somehow move and speak and talk and somehow atoms exist so pls get with the program aint nothing logical in this life and the sooner you come to terms with that the better. nothing is too crazy because existence itself is crazy.
the second thing i learned was that MANIFESTATION IS NOT A PROCESS. i used to hear this all the time back in 2022 and it never made sense to me i was always like what tf are yall talking about???? my understanding was that manifestation is the act of trying to get something, but i was so so wrong. everything changed for me when i started approaching manifestation with the attitude that i was reminding myself of what i have, not trying to get what i want. basically stop thinking of manifestation as manifestation if ykwim. to really understand this im gonna have to talk about the whole "decide that you have your desire > affirm that you have it > keep presisting" thing and break it down.
so what do people mean when they tell you to decide that you have your desire? does it mean saying out loud "i have __" and then a few seconds going "alright wheres my ___?" no. it means you in your mind decide that its ALREADY YOURS and that you ALREADY GOT IT. i dont know how to word this any differently because its so simple its literally in the words. im gonna try an example. im assuming that youre reading this with your eyes so you have eyes. are you trying to 'manifest' having eyes? when you say "i have eyes" are you using an affirmation to get eyes? is having eyes a desire youre trying to 'manifest'? no because you literally already have eyes bro how else are you reading this with your bootyhole??? so when you say "i have eyes" you arent manifesting via affirming, youre just saying it to remind yourself because well you have eyes. you arent trying to manifest eyes because you already have them. thats what it means to decide that your desire is yours. it means to stop treating what is yours as a desire because its literally yours. stop seeing it as something youre trying to manifest because you already have it, wtf do you need to manifest for? do you get it? don't think of doing this as you tricking your mind into thinking you have your desires because AGAINN you arent tricking anything you literally already have it. when you say "i have eyes" and you have eyes are you trying to trick gour brain? no. that sounds silly. im sorry that this is so repetitive but its literally that simple idk what everyone else is doing complicating the most simple thing ever.
and now, what do people mean by affirm that you have it? does that mean using affirmations to manifest your 'desire'? (i put desire in quotations bc you already have it since you decided you do) no. it simply means reminding yourself that you do. ill go back to the eyes example. if you were to say "i have eyes" right now would you understand that as some woo woo manifestation affirmation technique? no because you already have eyes. what youre doing is simply stating a fact and reminding yourself of it for funsies. you arent trying to manifest anything because you already have it. affirming doesn't mean tricking your brain or your subconscious that you have your desire or whatever, its just you reminding yourself.
and finally, what does it mean to persist? does that mean fighting for your life trying to convince yourself that you have your desire? no. because you already have it. it simply means that everytime you ask yourself "oh why isnt this showing up in my 3d?" you tell yourself "bro what tf are you on about were not manifesting anything we already have it are you crazy?" that's all. going back to the eyes example, you know you have eyes, so if someone came up to you rn and was like "hey did your eyes come in yet?" you'd probably think they hit their head or something because your eyes are literally right there its how youre seeing their dumbass. that's the same attitude you have to have towards your 'desires'. stop thinking of your 'desires' as desires, stop thinking youre trying to manifest anything, stop thinking you have to wait for anything to show up in the 3d or that the 3d is lagging behind or whatever, stop seeing manifestation as manifestation, stop imagining yourself sending in success stories asks when you get your desires, basically just stop dawg. you already have it. "dont contradict yourself" (although again you arent contradicting anything bc you already have it im just running out of ways to simply something thats already so simple). thats what it means to manifest instantly.
anyways thats all i wanted to say. im so sorry for the horrendously long ask i would make it even longer by talking about my success now but i think you would beat my ass if i did. bye bye love u
!!!!! you ate this whole thing up. y'all better come read this.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
lovphobic · 2 years ago
Note
hope your ex burns tbh not only is it so fucked up but also manipulative as fuck kinda making it seem like you'd be dying to hurt them lol also kids?? with this line of thought your ex shouldn't even be allowed to drink much less be responsible for children
TRULY? HONESTLY? she was like ohh i dont know if i can commit to that and this and that bullshit. like ok so somehow being born like this WAS indeed my fault and i did it specifically to hurt you, who was born 4 years before me, who i wont meet for twenty whole years. yes that makes total sense. i gave myself this disease JUST to hurt you.
#another batshit thing she said to me. after telling her i literally cannot drive because my condition has made it so i have had multiple#surgeries on my one eye. ON. ON the eye BALL. and therefore im super light sensitive and THEREFORE would be super super fucking unsafe for#me to drive during the day (sun) and night (people who cant turn their fucking brights off) and she read all this and was like you cant jus#expect me to drive you around everywhere? like YES I FUCKING CAN? YOU WANT ME TO KILL MYSELF AND/OR OTHERS TRYING TO DRIVE MYSELF???#and then there was this other time where i was ''shutting down'' her suggestions to manage my depression. like go for a walk (outside. cant#be in the sun. live near a highway) or play online games (had horrible internet at the time. physically couldnt do that) and she got SO#fucking mad at me for shooting down her suggestions even though i wasnt doing that at all and giving valid reasons i could not do the thing#she was suggesting. and so i broke up with her! and i never got back together with her!#but oh my god she thought i did! and even though i told her multiple times that i made it clear we were not together and that i didnt feel#comfortable getting back together w her because she blew up on me over fucking nothing. she was like so you were just leading me on? you#dense cunt. i would not do that and the fact you have to ask if i would/was doing that proves you dont know shit about me#another time was when she told me. outright. knowing i am very uncomfortable w the topic. that she was going to. and i quote. 'cut the shit#out of my arms tonight' and then left the dm and didnt say shit for like half an hour. and im just over on my end panicking the fuck out of#my mind trying to reach her get any fucking message out of her begging her to fucking not. and then months later she was like heyyy um your#reaction to that moment was pretty toxic? i was having a meltdown and i literally couldnt respond to you in the moment. LIKE OK? YOU COULDV#SAID THAT IMMEDIATELY AFTER? NOT SAID THE INITIAL TRIGGERING THING TO BEGIN WITH?#she makes my fucking blood boil even to this day. there is so much more i could talk about but i think i have made my point crystal fucking#clear. like. you know what. did i deserve any of that? no. and im sorry for whoever has to deal with it next.#and we werent even together for a year. this all happened from december 21 to september 22. just let that sink in. just for a moment.#snail mail
0 notes