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yngtort · 1 year ago

Text

— puppy love

NSFW ★

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Xfem!reader : In which both you and seungmin are too shy to talk about sex, but too horny to keep your hands off each other. (Cute lil birthday post for my dear friend @sydnerss love you squid!)

Sex isn’t the most important thing in a relationship.

No, it’s communication.

Which is something both you and seungmin had stressed since the moment you got together. So why— why couldn’t you two just communicate about sex?

It seems like every time either of you wanted to fuck, you can never voice it. The most you did was lay down silent hints.

You’d walk around in the tiniest little shorts that show off your fluffy ass and thick thighs. Meanwhile, he’s wearing his joggers as low as possible, subtle vline being showed off like the piece of art it is.

You both won’t say a thing tho.

It’s til he’s grabbing you by the waist and pulling down to his lap, when you know he’s painfully hard. Dick pressing up against your ass as he looks up at expectantly, hoping you’d also take the hint.

At first you blamed on the fact that your relationship was relatively new. You both are quite shy anyways, it took you a while to even confess your romantic feelings for each-other.

— so being upfront about the sexual ones would be even harder.

just wanted to be respectful, dispute the absolutely disrespectful things y’all wanted to do.

And that’s why you’re stuck on the phone with him, ache in your core, listening to him hang out with his friends.

It’s been hours since the call started, something about seungmin missing your voice led y’all into spend your whole day together virtually. It’s a cute sentiment until youre scrolling through tumblr, landing on a post that has one of your hands slapped over your mouth, while the other is digging into your shorts.

It didn’t help how attractive seungmin sounds right now. Joking around with his crew with an edge in his voice that you hadn’t heard before. Your AirPods were turned up to an embarrassingly high volume.

You bite back a desperate whimper as your fingers just barely brush the deepest part of you. That spot where only seungmin could reach.

It’s a bit scandalous to be doing this, you admit. But you can’t help it when it��s been so long since you’ve gotten your back blown out.

If only you had the courage to tell him about how badly you needed him to fuck you into your pillows. But you dont.

Instead you’ll just quietly slut yourself out his voice. pathetically rolling your thumb on your clit as you chase after orgasm that just keeps slipping away.

you’re close- so so close—

“Y/n? You still there?” Seungmin called making your movements stutter. “Y/n?”

Damn it.

“Mhm, still here.” You say quickly. But there’s a slight shake in your voice that makes your boyfriends ears perk.

“You okay? You sound like you’re crying.”

“ ‘mm not.” Oh but you’re about to. Your body was begging for some kind of relief and whatever you were doing was not enough. Fingers all cramped up inside of you as try to keep on pumping.

“You sure? Do you need me to come over?”

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“No, I’m fine.” you mentally punch yourself as you hear seungmin hum, telling you to let him know if anything changes. But it won’t, you’re sure of it.

He goes back to playing around with his friends and you do the same, but with yourself.

Fingers weren’t cutting it anymore though, You needed something stronger. your legs swung over the bed, heading over to your dresser.

Where did you put it?

You rummage through your clothes until you’re pulling out pink little vibrator, shaped to resemble a rose. It’s been so long since you used it, is it even charged?

But you don’t have time worry about that, you’re too busy trying rid yourself of the knot in your stomach.

When you’re back on your bed, you quickly mute your mic— not without making an excuse to seungmin that you’re gonna play some music and that you didn’t want to disturb him with it.

In reality, it was because of how loud the said toy was despite what the packaging said when you got it. The Rose made a shit eating wiring sound as you placed on your clit.

But damn, it’s effective.

Soft moans floated off your lips and into the cold air of your room. You imagined that it was your boyfriend between your legs, licking and sucking as he pinned your hips down to the mattress.

your legs would curl over his sharp shoulders, while your hands latched onto a tuft of his brown locks. in your mind, you can practically see the intense look he’d be giving you. Dick probably throbbing in his pants as he eats you up.

you were completely wrapped up in your own fantasy, eyes stung with tears as your orgasm started to creep in finally. With your free hand, you dip those fingers inside of you, pressing upwards and just can’t help but cry out.

“Minnie, please. Need you so bad..” You whined, legs shaking immensely.

“If you needed me so bad, you should’ve just asked.”

You paused. No, everything had paused.

The rose went dead. Your heart stop beating. and your orgasm never came.

“I thought-“ you grabbed your phone, wide eyed because the mute button was untouched. “Oh my gosh, your friends didn’t hear me did they??”

“And if they did?” He rasped, “it’s not like you cared. Acting like a mutt in heat.”

Little did you know, seungmin didn’t even give them the chance. as soon as he sensed something was up with you— he was out the door. by the time he was on your street, you were moaning into the phone. he had to try not to swerve and hit a trash can, it was a mess.

“Seungmin…”

“Just come open the door.”

Everything happens in flash after you open that door.

You’re swept off your feet and forced into a desperate kiss. Seungmins nipping, biting, and sucking on your lips as he navigates through the house and into your room.

“you’re such a tease.” he says against your mouth, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“No, seung. I didn’t mean to-“ your words are cut off, being dropped on the bed knocked the wind out of your lungs.

“Fucking liar,” seungmin cursed, dark eyes glaring down at you. “You’re always doing this. putting yourself on display just to get my attention even though you already have it.”

He’s so right, you hate it— but it’s true. You had gotten so desperate and messy, when all you had to do was speak up.

“Did you have fun fucking on that weak toy of yours? Was it better than me? Hmm?” He asked, hovering over you. You gasp, feeling his fingers slide up your thighs and onto your core. His fingers pressed into the wet patch on your thin pajama shorts and seungmin has to hold back a scoff.

“I guess not.” He chuckled, rubbing you through the cloth until his fingers are drenched.

“s-seungmin,” you call and your boyfriend raised a brow.

“What? gonna beg like the needy lil pup you are?” He mocked, “go on then. Speak.”

A waterfall off of pleas leave your mouth in an instant. It was like seungmin a flipped a little switch in your mind, making you spill every dirty thought you had of him earlier.

You just wanted him buried between your thighs, helping your relieve the tightness in your gut after being edged all day. “Please, please, please Minnie. Needa’ cum so bad.”

a satisfied grin stretches across his face as he hear your demands.

“How could I possibly say no when you’re this cute?” He says before traveling down your body, leaving behind kisses until he’s face to face with your heat.

Without a thought, he slides your shorts to the side and latches his mouth onto your sore clit. Tongue lapping over the sensitive bud, making your back arch in pleasure.

Fuck, this was just what you needed. You’re rolling your hips against his face in such a shameless way— but did you care? No. All you cared about is getting your long awaited release.

it sneaks up on you, making you choke out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. seugmin has to dig his nails into your thighs, trying to keep your legs from closing up on him.

“Seungmin, s-stop.. t-that’s enough.” You sob, but your boyfriend doesn’t listen. He just continues to eat you out, amused as he watched you writhing in his hold from overstimulation.

a second wave of ecstasy hits, harder than the last and seungmin finally lets you free. “You’re so good for me, look how much you came.” He teased, wiping his face clean from your wetness.

“It’s your fault.” You huff, chest rising and falling.

“Guilty as charged” seungmin laughed, before leaning down and hauling you into another kiss. It’s a lazy and sloppy one, letting you get a taste of yourself.

your hands travel down to his torso, fingers tracing his soft features until you’re buried into the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck, y/n. Just like that.” Seugmin hisses at your cold palm wrapping around his hard length. you pump him, hand moving with easy thanks to the precum that leaked from his shaft.

“Seung,” you breathe out, looking him in the eyes. “fuck me and Make it hurt.”

“Bossy lil pup.”

In a matter of second seungmin flips you over onto all fours, pressing your face into the comforter.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He says from behind, tip diving into your entrance. You whine out loudly as you suck up every inch.

His thrusts are mad and wild, nails sunk into your hips and dick hitting your gspot every. Single. Time. The room is flooded with the sound of his hips meeting yours and the bed screaming under you.

“Yes yes yes, fuck me like that.” you cry out, only fueling the man inside you more.

“you like my dick that much?” He asked, snapping his hips harder. “You’re clenching so hard like it’s yours.”

“Mine.. want it so bad.” you splutter out.

“Then take it, baby.”

It’s not long before you’re both moaning mess, muscles tensing as you feel your high course through you. seungmin dips down, pressing his face into your nape as he milks himself. His load fills you until there’s a little bulge in your belly and it only deflates when he pulls out.

He slumps over to the side of you and wraps an arm around your waist, bringing you to his chest.

“Now, i think it’s time we have a little chat about our communication skills.”

“Seungmin…. I can’t even think right now.”

#stray kids imagines #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #straykids x reader #seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #seungmin smut #seungmin stray kids #straykids smut

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ldrfanatic · 7 months ago

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r9 for mattheo riddle pls🙏

shakin', pacin', I just need you

mattheo riddle x fem!hufflepuff!reader

r9 - "for you I would fall from grace, just to touch your face"

gonna be at the dentist office w my bf for the next three to four hours so I'm gonna try and clear out my requests <3

lowkey I was praying someone would request this for mattheo

part two anyone?

y'all I could not find where I wrote down my mattheo taglist so if you wanna be added please please PLEASE comment on this post so I can start a new one thanksss

slytherin boys works

"y/n are you even listening to me?"

the voice of hannah abbot, a fellow hufflepuff, tore your eyes from your only slytherin friend albeit reluctantly. when you finally looked towards your friend, her mouth was turned up into a disapproving frown.

"no. I know you think he's your friend, but he's not."

she wasn't entirely wrong. afterall, you couldn't honestly say that you'd exchanged more than a few words with the boy, though it wasn't for lack of opportunity. he'd approached you on more than one occasion but neither of you ever seemed to actually speak.

really, it was because mattheo felt stumped by you. he'd spent a lot of time with different girls while he'd been at hogwarts. but when he tried to approach you, he fumbled. every. single. time. that was how he first knew you were special.

the kind of girl that made him want to face his father's wrath even though he knew that liking you would be more than enough for a crucio.

between your friends, his family, and his inability to articulate his thoughts around you, mattheo never really got the chance to talk to you.

that is, until now.

somehow, by the grace of the universe, snape had paired you with him for the d.a.d.a. project studying boggarts. you touched on them briefly in your third year but due to lupin's condition, didn't get the chance to finish them. for once, mattheo actually wanted to do schoolwork and do well on this project so you didn't resent him for a bad grade.

as class was dismissed, a hand softly grabbed your wrist.

"wait."

it was mattheo. he was actually speaking words to you rather than just sitting there and staring. it was almost unsettling if anything.

"d'you maybe wanna meet in the library after classes and..."

you smiled sweetly and nodded.

"are you sure you can handle it riddle? don't you have to be talking to someone to study with them?"

there was a teasing tone in your voice which caused mattheo's face to bloom and pink to tinge over the tips of his ears. suddenly, like a switch had flipped, a cocky smile took over his face.

"i can't help it if you take my breath away. maybe you just bring out the best in me like that."

caught off by his banter and yet undeterred, you continued.

"well we all know that you're at your best when you shut up."

you spoke the words with a teasing smile. his jaw fell promptly open at your words, completely surprised that a hufflepuff would say something like that. while mattheo attempted to collect himself, you shoved your dark arts textbook into your satchel and swung it up onto your shoulder.

"the library. tonight. 5pm sharp. don't be late riddle."

five o'clock could not come fast enough. potions with professor scalby was simply exhausting. she was a kind enough women which was a nice change from professor snape after she'd taken over the class following his promotion to d.a.d.a., but the woman had a love for potions that you could safely say no one else in the class really shared. unless you counted hermione granger, a sweet enough gryffindor also in your year.

by the time that scalby finished gushing about the amortentia your class would attempt to brew next week, you were sure you'd aged an entire year in this class alone.

finally, after what seemed like an eternity, class was dismissed. you quickly packed your books away and scurried off to the library, arriving a decent few minutes before mattheo sauntered in with an otherworldly confused look on his face.

"sorry i'm a little late. i got lost."

he spoke to you in a deep yet gentle rumble that had your heart beating a little faster in your chest. it was hard not to notice the way that he gawked at the old century library which was probably your favorite collection of books in the whole world.

"have you never been here before?"

mattheo's dark curls bounced atop his head as he shook it slowly. he looked down at his large hands with what appeared to be shame.

"i've never really taken an interest in school before."

wanting to make him feel better you gently bumped your shoulder into his as the two of you walked back towards the study tables.

"you're taking an interest now."

"in you."

his words made the both of you settle into a thick silence. though it was hard not to notice his lingered stares across the great hall or after a slytherin-hufflepuff match, it was the first time that he'd spoken words aloud that alluded to his feelings for you, and it seemed to catch the both of you off guard.

after a moment's pause, mattheo spoke again.

"i-uh, i don't know why i said that i'm sorry."

you reached your hand out from across the table where the two of you had settled down and grasped his hand in yours. you flashed him a reassuring smile.

"don't be."

abruptly, mattheo let out a strangled noise of frustration and tugged at his hair with his fingers.

"i can't do this anymore."

your heart thumped so quickly against your ribcage, you feared it might stop beating altogether.

"can't do what anymore?"

"this, y/n. i can't keep posing that i want to be your friend and do friendly things together like study at the library."

now your heart was breaking. hannah was right. mattheo riddle was not your friend and-- oh. mattheo riddle was not done speaking.

"i can't keep pretending when i want to be so much more than friends with you. when i want to do very not friendly things with you. to you. when i feel like throwing these books on the floor and yanking you across this table and pressing every part of your body against every part of mine."

instead of doing that, he stood from his seat and knelt in front of you. it felt weird to have the son of the dark lord on his knees in front of you all but begging you to be his girlfriend.

"i know i'm not the chosen one or anything and i'm never gonna be the good guy. but damnit if i have to stay away from you any longer i don't think i could stand it."

his confession stunned you into silence. how the hell could yoou possibly respond to that?

"say something, please."

a hopeful look had taken over his features. his brown eyes sparkled under the dim library lights.

"i don't care that you're not the protagonist mattheo. i would fall from grace for you."

---

@blobsblobician @helendeath

07.07.2024

#mattheo #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #benjamin wadsworth #slytherin boys x reader

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diamjem · 5 days ago

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blame the champagne

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!mc

summary: sebastian sallow attends his ex’s engagement party and he is fine.

word count: 7.1k

warnings: angst, alcohol abuse (sort of), marriage is a prison, 19th century high-society, no y/n, sebastian ruins everything he touches

a/n: first fic i’ve ever posted on tumblr pls be kind im jus a girl (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ANYWAYS i wrote this while listening to exile by ts over and over and over again so maybe give that a lil listen while you read if u wanna set the mood. can you tell by the end i was just excited to get it done with lols. also this is really far from my usual writing style (i mainly post on wattpad ik boooo) but here ya go. im well aware of how all of u eat up angst like it’s a happy meal YES THERE WILL BE A PART TWO. if the hyperfixation persists this might even be a longer series BUT god knows how many wips i already have pls have mercy on my poor soul

[ao3] [wattpad]

it was a nice party.

no, really. it was.

sure, there were some things sebastian could’ve done without—the awkwardly stiff ballroom, for one, with its velvet curtains that probably cost more than his entire wardrobe—but on the whole, he couldn’t deny credit where it was due.

the music was stimulating enough to have ballgowns spinning around endlessly on the dancefloor. food, exquisite; hors d'oeuvres that looked more like art than appetizers, but delicious nonetheless. and the decor? a tad too extravagant, maybe, with gold ribbons draped from every chandelier, catching the candlelight in a way that felt more like a royal procession than a social gathering. but who was he to judge? he was certainly drinking enough to blur any such distinctions, and there was more than enough champagne.

so, yeah, it was a really nice party.

well, save for the fact that it’s his ex’s engagement party to some guy from a prestigious pureblood family or whatever. sebastian still couldn't quite remember his name, though he’s pretty sure it starts with the letter h. he read the invitation, the fine lettering that seemed too fancy for its own good, but the moment he’d seen “engagement” paired with her name, his brain had short-circuited. he didn't need nor want the details. it was enough to know that she was moving on—and he, apparently, was not. but that's fine. he’s fine.

sebastian would have preferred to avoid the entire affair, but anne had insisted—no, berated him—into attending. "just be grateful she even thought to invite you to such a special day." she'd demanded.

ominis, bless him, had tried his best to offer some well-meaning, clumsy attempt to soften the blow, but when all was said and done, suggested sebastian defer to anne. there was no doubt (maybe a little) ominis was his best friend but he was also anne’s husband now. and a wife’s word, especially in the sallow family, was the law. infuriating, as if they haven't ganged up on him enough their whole lives.

speaking of those two, where the hell are they? sebastian was already this close to hexing them for dragging him here in the first place—much less leaving him alone in a crowd of polished, tight-lipped strangers. not that he hadn’t been to his fair share of these high-society events. as an established wizard, a decorated auror, top of his division no less, he had his place at these things, his duty even. in fact, somewhere deep down, part of him even liked the glitz and glamour. it was the sort of thing that would make most people feel important, like they were part of something larger, something better.

but this? this wasn’t his crowd at all. not when he had to stand there, watching the one that got away and her decorated hand clutch her husband-to-be’s arm. the sight of it churned something deep in his gut, like a bitter knot that wouldn’t untangle.

alright, maybe it’s time to admit it.

it was not a nice party at all.

the music? too stiff. too classic. she usually liked it loud and roaring. she used to love a ceilidh, for merlin’s sake. the food? too tiny. he could practically see her at the table, scarfing down a full plate before reaching for seconds, her stomach always growing faster than her appetite. the decorations? too gaudy. too excessive. then again, she never had a good eye for interior decor—at least, not according to the proper standards. her idea of decoration had been finding old furniture abandoned in the highlands and somehow hauling it back to their (now just his) flat in london.

salazar, this whole party is wrong. she never even cared for this kind of thing. she would always roll her eyes when he dragged her to some work event, muttering something about she’d much rather be laughing over a pint in the pub with him.

but it wasn’t just the party, was it? not the music or the food or the decorations. it was the fact that none of this felt like her anymore. it felt like she had become something else. something he wasn’t a part of.

sebastian watched her over the rim of his glass as he took a long swig of his drink.

now, the party may be no good, but the champagne? that's another thing. it was crisp, sharp, and cold, slipping down his throat with a tingle that almost made him forget where he was and who he was supposed to be celebrating. almost.

they were standing on the opposite side of the ballroom, where they were entertaining pompous-looking guests with what sebastian could only assume was ostentatious conversation. by they, he meant her and her fiancée (horace? henry?)—who, by the way, is the exact opposite of sebastian, with his raven hair, pale and freckle-free skin, and posture so impeccable that it even made sebastian straighten his own back.

she held out her hand to a lady she was talking to as if to flaunt her ring and sebastian crinkled his nose at the sight. he had to squint, but even from across the room, he could see that blinding diamond on her finger, catching the light like some cruel trick of the shadows. she’d always blabbered about how diamonds were too overrated, how emeralds were the only stones truly worth their weight. he never saw the appeal before, but now he did.

even her own hair wasn’t her. neater than usual, pulled up into that impossibly tight bun. it had always been free before, with that little curl by the side of her neck that always seemed to escape no matter how much she tried to tame it.

and that smile. it was perfect and even like it had been practiced for this very occasion. her real smile was never perfect. it was always a little crooked on the right side and it made her eyes squint into crescents.

pretentious. all of it. most of all, this engagement party. but at least, he had a drink in his hand and a healthy amount of champagne sloshing in it, which, at this point, was enough to blur the sharp edges of his cynicism.

or perhaps it wasn't his cynicism he’s been trying to drown in champagne all night but bitterness. who’s to say, though? certainly not sebastian—his pride would never let him admit that aloud, especially not when he’s supposed to be making merry with the very thing that made him bitter in the first place.

merlin, this engagement party is beginning to feel more and more like a funeral with every passing second, and he'd already dug himself a deep-enough grave just by showing up to this affair—by allowing himself to be here, in this strange limbo between the past he had to let go of and the future he no longer had any part in.

okay, funeral might be too near the knuckle. a stage play, now that's more fitting—complete with its flashy set, monotonous musical accompaniment, even the lead cast and audience. it all felt like a performance, and he, the unwilling spectator, had been cast in the worst role.

all that is to say, it really was not a nice party.

and it seemed he wasn’t the only one with grievances about the whole thing when just a few feet away, he caught the rasp of a shrill, hushed voice, rising above the ambient murmur of polite conversation like a knife through velvet.

“what a pity he's off the market. and to her, of all people. disagreeable little shrew of a witch, if you ask me.”

sebastian turned toward the source of the sound, narrowing his gaze. two women, dressed in garish, overly elaborate gowns were leaning in, exchanging what could only be described as venomous whispers. one of them, a woman with too much rouge on her cheeks, elbowed her companion, who, scandalized, raised a hand to her lips in mock surprise.

“an odd pairing, wouldn't you say?" the second woman chimed in, her voice betraying her amusement. “the hero of hogwarts and a pureblood heir. i wonder how they ever came to be.”

“if all the rumors about her past are to be believed, there has to be a conspiracy behind this. perhaps she slipped him an amortentia or, merlin forbid, blackmailed him.”

the second woman raised her glass in contemplation, her eyes gleaming with the sort of cruelty that only gossip seemed to nurture. “or maybe it’s for status,” she mused, “a marriage of convenience, perhaps? the hero marrying into a respectable family for a bit of security. a trade, if you will.”

he would have been inclined to agree—if only they hadn’t so thoughtlessly insulted the woman he once (still) loved. he could almost feel the heat rising to his face, the bitter sting of their insinuations making his hand ball into a fist at his side. but stepping in would be too over the line, even for sebastian. because she wasn't his to defend anymore. she’d made sure of that by giving her hand to some pureblood prick that wasn't him.

“well," the first woman continued, her voice turning sly, "whatever the case, she’s certainly fortunate. there aren’t many men left nowadays willing to be tied down, what with all the modern notions of ‘free love’ and 'unconventional living.' most prefer the arrangement where marriage is simply a word they needn't bother with. she’ll never want for anything, i suppose.”

“come to think of it, wasn't she in a long-term relationship just before this? witch weekly was quite abuzz about it. detailed how they’ve been together since their time in hogwarts and how everyone thought they'd be married by now, only for them to end in ruins all of a sudden.”

"oh, i think i remember that. though, as i recall, they never revealed the identity of her beau." the first woman pondered, tapping her fan against her cheek. "such a mysterious fellow, wasn't he? can you imagine what it must be like for him? finding out his beloved is to marry one of the wizarding world’s most eligible bachelors so soon after their parting?"

"oh, i’d be positively reeling," the second woman chimed in, a wicked grin playing at her lips. "i’d hardly be able to hold my glass steady."

that was it. he’d had enough eavesdropping for the night. no, scratch that—his whole life, actually.

this was precisely why he never engaged in gossip—not because he didn’t know it was often rooted in half-truths or outright falsehoods, but because on the off chance it was a truth, he couldn’t endure the sting of it especially when rubbed in his face. the incessant chatter, the giggling, the way their voices danced around his very existence like a cruel little game. it was as though they had found some perverse pleasure in prying open wounds that had barely even healed, turning them over in the light for sport.

but there was nothing like alcohol to cleanse the wound, so he had the snack steward pour him a fresh glass of champagne to flush out the muck that clung to the gash.

and it shouldn't even hurt in the first place. he was over this. he’d already accepted how things had come to be. hell, he wouldn't be here at this godforsaken party if he hadn't. this was not the time or place for this. he was a professional, damn it. he had been through worse than a half-forgotten heartbreak in his time, for merlin’s sake. this wasn’t about him, or what he thought he could have had. he was fine.

it was just the champagne. the party had so much damn champagne. it had clouded his head and muddled his thoughts. it made everything hurt more than it should. he just needed fresh air, something sobering, something to clear the fog.

so he excused himself without a word. before he knew it, he was standing on the balcony, the cool night air hitting his face with an almost brutal clarity.

as the cool breeze ruffled his hair, it felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into the chasm below. maybe that was the real feeling—falling. that's what it had always felt like with her. a leap into something that he couldn’t control. something that was already lost before he had the chance to catch it. he’d never been able to get his footing, never been able to catch the ground beneath him before it slipped away.

and tonight, he was just watching her from the bottom, wishing he could climb back up.

—

sebastian stood there, the cold seeping through his coat as the social raged inside. glass of champagne still clutched tightly in his hand since he excused himself—how long ago had that been? a while. he wasn’t sure. time had started to lose its meaning out here. the muffled hum of the party drifted through the heavy stone walls, but he didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

it was a dreadful party, anyway.

at least out here, in the chill, there was a kind of comfort in the solitude. even if it felt like he was slowly being frozen into the stone.

the sound of the balcony doors opening caught his attention, followed by a soft click as they closed behind whoever had dared to step out into the cold.

“oh, my apologies! i didn’t know someone was out here. i—sebastian. there you are.”

sebastian turned towards the commotion, and there she was. with her too-primped hair, too-tight smile, and too-bright ring.

his gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was something there—a flicker of recognition, of shared history, that made his breath catch, almost rivaling the buzz the champagne gave him.

“there you are,” he replied, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in days. it was almost instinctive—like a beck and call he didn’t even realize he was still answering to.

she let out a breath, looking as if she had been holding it in for far too long. “sorry, i just needed an escape from all that.” her hand swept vaguely behind her, motioning to the pantomime behind the balcony doors.

“i’ll take my leave if you like.” sebastian said, already moving to turn away.

her brows immediately shot up, her hands instinctively raised as if to stop him. “no, stay. please. i’d like some company that isn't somewhat of a stranger for once tonight. unless… you’d rather leave?”

“i’ll stay.”

the words slipped out before he had a chance to stop them, much to his chagrin. he could almost hear his own internal voice, the one that had always been a little too self-assured, a little too sure of himself, yelling at him for it. though he never really knew how to say no to her, he thought by now he’d learn to. maybe it’s because he’s out of practice, or maybe it’s just the champagne dulling his senses.

but then, a small, crooked smile curved on her lips—a smile so familiar, so raw, that sebastian swore it made his heart skip a few beats too many. it was a glimpse of the real her. the one without all the pretense. and gods, it hit him harder than any amount of champagne in the party—no, the entire world—ever could.

she lifted the hem of her skirt just enough to kick off her heeled shoes with a frustrated huff. “these shoes are killing me,” she muttered under her breath, her voice a touch more vulnerable than she probably intended.

sebastian watched her for a moment, his gaze lingering on the shoes she discarded with such finality, as if casting away a part of her carefully constructed image for a moment of relief. then stepped up next to him, leaning casually against the railing. she folded her arms across her chest, her gaze sweeping out over the city lights as if they held some unspoken truth.

the silence stretched between, but it felt oddly familiar—like the space between them had never really grown so wide. maybe he was just deluding himself, but for a moment, it felt like they hadn’t changed, like they could still slip back into those old rhythms. it wasn’t comfortable, not exactly, but it was natural in a way.

“congratulations, by the way. it’s a nice party,” sebastian said, his voice a little too casual. a lie. he knew it, she knew it. and yet, neither of them dared to say it aloud.

“the very picture of grandeur,” he added, lifting his glass in a half-hearted toast, as if the motion might somehow mask the gaucheness creeping into his tone.

she hummed in response, but it wasn’t in agreement. It was more like a sardonic chuckle, a sound that told him she saw through it all. “and then some,” she replied, her voice dripping with dry humor. “i think it’s quite over the top. but don't tell hector i said that, he’d have a fit.”

hector? oh, her fiancée. that must be his name.

for all his loquacious nature, sebastian didn’t quite know how to respond to that. there was a pang of something—jealousy, regret, resentment—that made the words catch in his throat. there was a part of him that wanted to ask how it felt, to ask if hector was everything she had dreamed of. but he knew he didn’t have the right. so, he stayed silent, letting the questions churn inside, only to swallow them down along with another gulp of champagne.

she smiled then, warm at first, but it quickly shifted into something more melancholic. “but i’m glad you’re here, sebastian,” she said, her voice gentle. “to be honest, i wasn’t sure if you’d come, considering, well, everything. if i were you, the last place i’d want to be is my ex’s engagement party.”

he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “i could be in worse places,” he said, the smirk tugging at his lips as he raised his glass. “and hey, what could be better than a party with an abundance of champagne?”

“i know you’re joking, but take it easy on the champagne, alright? you’re a lot more indulgent than you like to think.”

sebastian leaned back, giving her a sidelong glance. “ah, there it is. your trademark nagging. i’m already starting to feel sorry for hector.”

the words were flippant, but his chest tightened the moment they left his mouth. the thought of someone else being on the receiving end of her odd brand of shrewish affection gnawed at him more than he wanted to admit. he would have swallowed every word he'd ever said if it meant he could keep all that cavilling to himself again. but that's neither here nor there.

she scoffed. “oh, trust me, he does enough nagging for the both of us. quite the pedant, really. i don't know how you put up with me for as long as you did. might be a good idea to ask for your advice."

her words were wrapped in jest, but sebastian didn’t miss the small shift in her expression. the tiniest of pouts tugged at her bottom lip, and he caught it—just a flicker. it passed so quickly he almost convinced himself he hadn’t seen it. but he had. and it twisted something in his chest, a reminder of all the ways he used to know her. again, he found himself telling himself that it didn't concern him. not anymore.

“advice?” he said, his voice forced into a casual tone, but it cracked just a little. “you’re asking the wrong person, hen. i’m hardly an expert on relationships. evidently.”

the irony in his own words didn't escape him. no, what did escape him was just how much the slip of that term of endearment landed with weight.

her gaze flicked over to him, brow raised in mild surprise, the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement. “hen?” she echoed.

ah, of course. yet another symptom of too much champagne that also falls under a lack of control—the slip of the tongue.

“force of habit.” his excuse came, quickly trying to backpedal.

hen was a relic of their past, something he’d used to call her when things were simpler, before everything had gotten tangled and messy. she would always mock him for using such a twee nickname, but there was always something in her expression when he said it, a brief flicker in her eyes that made him wonder if, deep down, she didn’t mind it as much as she let on.

but to his surprise, she just smiled, the curve of her lips soft, almost fond. she didn’t mock him, didn’t even raise an eyebrow. no judgement. no laughter at his expense. there was a quiet in her gaze, one that lingered longer than usual. recognition, maybe. nostalgia. the kind of thing that shouldn’t have been there, but it was. and it echoed in his chest, so painfully familiar.

she hummed, the kind she used to make when she was content, and turned back to the night sky, as though the way she looked at sebastian didn't just send him reeling right then and there. as if she knew that that one look would make him more flustered than she would if she’d just mocked him.

“so, what’s been keeping you busy these days?" she asked, her voice softer now, a hint of genuine curiosity underneath her teasing tone. "the world’s still spinning, i presume?"

"ah, you know. work, as usual," he replied, his tone flat and yet cautious at the same time.

if it were anyone else, he'd have launched into a long-winded spiel of his latest case. after all, his work had become the one thing he clung to, the only thing that made getting out of bed in the morning feel necessary. but with her? the words didn’t flow so easily. even back then, it had become a touchy subject between them—something that both defined him and drove a wedge between them.

okay, so maybe it wasn't his work that drove them apart and more so his obsession to it. or rather, his obsession to prove himself. his obsession to be part of something larger, something better. but that was a thing of the past, and there's no point dredging it up now when they're supposed to be celebrating the future.

"of course, still married to your job, i see. i mean, i get it, you've always been a workaholic.” she nodded, a knowing yet bittersweet smile playing on her lips. "i even heard you took down yet another beast trafficking ring. well done, sebastian.”

sebastian's brow arched involuntarily. had she been keeping tabs on him? the idea that she might still be keeping track of him, that he’s still running around in that mesmerizing clutter of a mind of hers? he wouldn't dare say it out loud but it tickled him pink. it was both absurd and somehow thrilling. maybe she had asked around—natty, perhaps? he had worked on a handful of cases with her over the past few months—there was no reason natty couldn’t have mentioned something about the work they’ve been doing. or maybe she’d been watching him? he wouldn't put it past her to do such a thing, sly little witch she is.

“oh, would you wipe that look off your face?” came her voice, the playful edge in her voice obvious. “i know what you're thinking, and no. i just happened to read about it on the daily prophet.”

sebastian couldn’t help the slow, satisfied smile that crept across his face. she could feign ignorance as much as she liked, but the flush on her cheeks told a different story. and it sure as hell wasn’t just the rouge she wore. it spread slowly, a warm pink creeping up her neck, staining her cheek.

“is that so?” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, but it came out a little softer than he’d intended. “i guess i make the news more than i realized.”

“i’ll have you know the daily prophet reports on anything these days. they even had an article on what the best flavor of bertie bott’s beans is.” she rolled her eyes, her lips twitching with barely contained amusement. “beans, sebastian. on the very same page of your ring-busting article. i guess that's the kind of highly important news they decide to prioritize.”

“next thing you know, they're reporting on the right way to sneeze.” he added with a wry grin.

“oh, you’d better read that then,” she said, shaking her head, her eyes alight with a teasing sparkle. “merlin knows how many have suffered at the hands of your loud sneezes.”

“well, you know what the daily prophet won't be able to tell you? i adopted a cat.”

her eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised. "a cat?" she looked at him like he’d just announced he’d learned to juggle fire. “you? this happened when, pray tell?”

sebastian shrugged, his smile widening just a little. "oh, you know. a few weeks ago. felt i might do with some company that wasn’t a case file or a bottle of firewhisky.”

the glint in her eyes only told him she was intrigued, so he kept going. "yeah. you’d love her. she’s a restless bugger, but she can be so affectionate. she reminds me a lot of you, actually. it’s why i got her in the first place. i even named her hen after—”

he froze mid-sentence, his smile faltering as soon as he realized what he’d said. sweet merlin, is there any chance he could cast a shrinking charm on himself so he could be small enough to jump into his glass and drown in the champagne?

or maybe that’s just it. he’s had way too much champagne. it had messed with him already more times than he could count tonight, so it wouldn't be too far-fetched. but then again, he didn't really care enough to stop drinking. not when the alcohol made it easier to suppress the bitter feelings that threatened to spill.

she stared at him for a long moment, eyes wide with surprise, then a small, entertained twist of expression tugged at the corner of her mouth. if earlier hadn’t been enough to spark her teasing, then surely this would be.

“merlin, i’ve been replaced by a cat.” she tilted her head. “i don’t know whether to be offended, relieved, or touched.”

sebastian’s eyes narrowed, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his attempt to look disinterested. he rolled his eyes dramatically, though the teasing wasn’t lost on him. “oh, come off it,” he muttered.

“look at you,” she spoke again. her voice was soft, as if overflowing with a solemn pride. “sebastian sallow, slytherin’s finest, accomplished auror, and now, cat owner. everything you ever wanted to be.”

if one word could be used to describe sebastian, it would be amour propre. granted, that’s two words, but the point still stands: he’s everything he’s ever wanted to be, and he’s proud of it. hell, he’d sacrificed more than he cared to admit to get here, to prove himself, to show the world that he was enough.

but if so, why did her words feel like a punch to the gut?

because all he’d ever wanted was to be hers. that was the truth of it, buried beneath all the ambition, all the success, all the work that had consumed him. it had never been about the accolades or the recognition. it was all just smoke and mirrors, an illusion from what he truly wanted. to prove himself worthy of her hand.

and when his eyes landed on that diamond on her finger, he’d realized all of it was for nothing. true to sebastian sallow fashion, he became too focused on the end goal he’d lost sight of where it all began.

"and you?" he finally managed, voice rougher than he intended. "you’re becoming a... wife."

the words felt like lead in his mouth. he swallowed hard, as if trying to chase the bitter taste out of his throat.

she sighed softly, almost wistfully, and her hand moved to absently fiddle with the diamond ring on her finger. the band slid up and down, just a little too big for her, a subtle movement that made it seem like it didn’t quite belong.

"i know, right?" she said, a faint, almost bitter edge creeping into her voice. "everything i ever wanted to be..."

“do you ever wish things could have panned out differently, sebastian?” she asked the question softly after a beat, but there was a weight to it, like she already knew the answer.

sebastian tried to find the words, but only stayed silent. he would be lying if he said he didn’t—if he didn’t wish, deep down, that things had turned out differently. but he’d had a year to accept it. a year to make peace with the reality handed to him, to bury the gnawing what-ifs under layers of duty and time. he’d convinced himself he was moved on. convinced himself that this was what was meant to be.

but that was before today. before this party. before the sight of the ring—her ring—shining like a cruel reminder of everything he had lost.

well, what good was wishful thinking, really? what was it but a self-inflicted wound that only festered into regret? what was done was done. and what was done was them—two separate paths now, carved out by the choices of time.

“why am I even asking? i’m sure you wouldn’t have it any other way.” her voice broke through his thoughts, laced with a softness that almost felt too painful.

“but... isn’t this what you wanted?” he forced himself to meet her eyes, though the words scraped his throat like nails. “to settle down, build a family?”

her eyes dropped to the ring again, the weight of it between them. she didn’t answer right away, as though she were trying to decide how to put it into words. the silence stretched thin before she spoke, her voice almost wistful, a quiet ache behind it.

“i… it is. just not like this.”

sebastian frowned, his brow furrowing deeper with confusion. not like this? what did she mean by that? was she implying that this—this life, this marriage, this future she was about to walk into—wasn’t what she had hoped for?

but he knew better than to be presumptuous. the last time he'd done that, he’d assumed she would be there, waiting, standing beside him until the end of time. and look where that had gotten him. he had learned, painfully, that hope could be a dangerous thing when it wasn’t tempered by reality.

and for all he knew, maybe she wasn’t so much regretting her choices as she was adjusting to them. the end of a decade-long relationship. the move from a cozy one-bedroom flat to a grand, unfamiliar manor that seemed more like a cage than a home. an engagement. the pressure of it. the weight of the new, the unfamiliar. it had to leave her feeling a little unmoored, a little lost. after all, hadn’t it left him feeling the same way when he was forced to step into a future he never wanted?

so instead of speaking, of pressing her for answers he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear, sebastian did what he’d become so adept at doing in the last year: he held his tongue. he let the silence stretch between them, a thin, fragile line neither of them seemed willing to cross.

but then, after a long beat, her voice broke through the quiet, softer than before, hesitant and unsure.

“i mean... i…” she hesitated for a fraction of a second, her fingers twisting slightly around the diamond ring. “i just miss going out on adventures, taking down bad guys, the daily prophet reporting about my adventures. i’m sorry, i know, i sound so green-eyed.”

“well, if it’s any consolation,” he said, trying to lighten the mood, “i think you were in a witch weekly article.”

she elbowed him lightly, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “not a consolation. you know i don’t like being treated like a celebrity.”

“moot point when you’ve got a whole wingding for a marriage that hasn’t even happened yet.”

she rolled her eyes, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. “oh, hush. it wasn’t my idea. if anything, i was against this whole thing but a husband's word is the law.”

her words were casual enough, but there was something beneath them—a quiet fatalism that rang through her tone, as though she had long since stopped fighting against the roles others had set for her. it was so unlike her. the woman he had known would have never allowed herself to be so... tame. it made him wonder if, had she heard him say that, would she still have hexed him like how her normal reaction would have been?

she had always been a force in her own right—a woman who did things her way, consequences be damned. and for all his own reservations about this hector, sebastian couldn’t deny there was a certain respect in the way she spoke of him. no, not respect—submission. it was the resignation of someone who had, for better or for worse (pun unintended), accepted their fate.

well, if it had been him—if he had been the one to give her that ring—things would have been different.

oh. there it was again—champagne clouding his judgement, making him think of what-ifs. but really, how much longer could he hold onto the intoxicating delusion that things could still be different? and most of all, how much longer can one blame the champagne?

sebastian set his glass down on the railing, the crystal making a sharp, definitive clink that cut through the silence. the sound seemed to echo, as though marking a turning point in the conversation, a shift in the air between them.

“i ought to warn hector,” he said, the playful edge to his voice sharpening in the thick air. “you can be quite scary when things don’t go your way. i remember once, ominis asked you to stop breaking and entering into random homes, and what did you do? used a very advanced locking charm to lock him out of his own apartment. took him days to get back inside. perhaps i should share that delightful story with your fiancée.”

her eyes narrowed slightly, but the smile that tugged at her lips betrayed a knowing amusement. “oh, i’m sure hector would enjoy that just as much as he’d enjoy the scolding he'd give me after,” she said, her voice smooth but tinged with something heavier. “he’s a man of strong opinions—loves to hold court on matters of... propriety. and best believe, he doesn't sway easily.”

“ah, but you forget my irresistible charm. you were the most relentless person i know, and it worked on you, didn’t it?”

“more like it wore me down.”

“same thing.”

she laughed. actually, more like guffawed. the sound bubbled up from her chest and filled the space between them, louder and freer than he’d heard in ages.

for a moment, everything seemed to fall away—the lingering heartbreak of their separation, the party, the expectations, the wretchedness of it all. they were just two people, lost in the simplicity of shared history, the ease of old comfort.

her shoulder brushed his, the smallest of touches. sebastian hadn’t even realized how close they’d gotten, how their space had slowly shrunk until they were practically leaning into each other. he could feel the warmth of her next to him, the quiet rhythm of her breathing.

it made his head spin and he didn't know what to blame this time. was it the champagne he’d been nursing all night? or perhaps the party had made him stir crazy? maybe he’s gotten a cold from all this biting air? all he knew was that if she were any closer, he would surely die. but in that same breath, he didn’t want it to stop. he didn't want the dizzying rush of this feeling to end. to be this close to her, so near, so... alive—if this was what death felt like, he would die happy. hell, he'd beg for it.

and it seemed the universe, in all its cruel, whimsical glory, did indeed want him to die. because in the next breath, she moved again—just a slight shift, but it was enough. her head, soft and weightless, found its place against his shoulder, a gentle pressure that sent a shiver through him, down to his very bones.

it was a dangerous thing, this proximity. it made him ache for the things he couldn't have anymore. but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t mind the pain.

“i haven’t laughed this much in a while,” she said, her voice almost dreamy. “i forgot how easily you could do that.”

“you know for someone so talkative, you're awfully quiet today.” she added.

sebastian exhaled, trying to force a chuckle past the lump in his throat. “ah, well... it’s not every day i come to my ex’s engagement party."

the words were dry and brittle, a thin veil over the mess of feelings roiling beneath. he could feel the weight pressing down on him, his usual charm lost to the quiet ache that had been building ever since he’d walked into this damned party.

she looked up at him, her head leaving his shoulder. sebastian fought the urge to wince at the loss of contact. he hated how it made him feel—small, like a child caught in the act of wanting something he could never have. a pathetic little loser, lost in his own head.

“right. the party,” she said, her voice distant now, like she was already stepping away, back to the world she was now leashed to. “i should get back in there.”

sebastian could feel the words coiling in his throat, but he couldn’t make them come. the lump was too heavy, the ache too deep. he didn’t want to stop her, didn’t want to be the one to hold her in this fleeting moment, knowing it was already slipping away. so he simply nodded.

she nodded back, a small, quiet acknowledgment. and in that brief exchange, something shifted—like a subtle current pulling them together without either of them willing to fight it. they were both standing still, suspended in the space between them, as though the world around them had melted into a blur. neither could look away. their gazes locked, drawn together by the gravity of everything unspoken, everything left unresolved.

for a long moment, there was only the sound of their breathing, quiet and steady, as though time itself had momentarily paused. sebastian could see the subtle flicker of emotion in her eyes, the fragility of it. the distance between them was vast, but in that instant, it felt narrower than it ever had before. she wasn’t just the woman he’d lost; she was a stranger, yet also someone he knew more intimately than anyone else in the world.

her lips parted, but no words came. it was as though they were both afraid to break the fragile tension that hummed between them. they were too fixed on each other’s eyes, as if speaking would shatter something delicate, something that might never exist again.

but then the sound of the balcony doors opening broke the stillness. a shift in the air, sharp and unwelcome, as if the universe itself was demanding they face the reality neither of them wanted to acknowledge. the doors clicked shut behind the intruder.

“brother, i knew you’d be sulking out here,” came anne’s voice, sharp and too bright. sebastian turned, his jaw tightening at the sound of her footsteps.

her eyes caught the two of them, lingering just long enough to read the unspoken, heavy weight of the moment. then, her expression flickered, a mix of surprise and amusement, as if she were watching something she couldn’t quite comprehend.

“did i interrupt something?” anne asked, a sly edge to her words, as if she could see through the mask they both wore, but was too polite to say anything more.

before sebastian could even process a response, the woman in front of him beat him to it.

“oh, not at all,” she said quickly, brushing past him to put her shoes back on. her voice was light, but there was something strained about it now—an effort to keep her composure intact. as if she was already slipping back into the role she’d rehearsed for the evening. “i was just heading out.”

anne, ever the enigma, chirped with forced cheer. “oh, by the way, congratulations on your engagement!”

“thank you, anne,” she replied, her tone measured, smooth—too smooth.

with the speed at which her mask snapped back on, sebastian felt as if he'd just gone through the looking glass. the moment between them, that fragile flicker of rawness, shattered the second she spoke. the real her, the woman he’d known, was gone—swallowed by a perfect, polished version of herself. he could almost hear the click as the walls went back up, soundproof and impervious.

but just as she turned to leave, her eyes flicked back to sebastian, and for a split second, there was a crack in that mask. a fleeting moment of something raw, something unguarded. the way she looked at him made his chest tighten, the kind of look that carried a thousand unspoken words, a thousand regrets.

her lips parted as if she wanted to say something—anything—but she didn’t. the silence between them grew thick, heavy with all the things they never said and probably never would.

instead, he grabbed his champagne glass, fingers trembling just slightly as he raised it to his lips, swallowing the rest of it in one smooth, numbing gulp. anything to chase away the taste of the moment, anything to erase the feeling of her gaze and touch.

“excuse me,” she murmured, her voice soft and distant, as if this whole thing—this entire exchange—had already been written. she brushed past anne with the grace of someone who had long ago perfected the art of walking away, leaving sebastian with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of champagne and the cold, aching silence.

they say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. but sebastian knew the truth. watching her walk away, the woman he had loved with everything in him, the woman who had been his world before it all crumbled—it didn’t make him stronger. it just made him feel dead. and drunk.

or maybe it was just the champagne.

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sos717 · 4 months ago

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i guess you don’t answer anymore but i’m hoping you at least read this because it’s genuine and i feel like i have nowhere else to post this. i just want someone to hear me. ignore this if it’s too long. i want to thank you for your posts. they are the only writings that have truly resonated with me ever since i discovered the law, neville, states, being, whatever we call this thing. but i’ll be honest i’m giving up today. i discovered the ‘law of attraction’ in 2019 when i was 18 years old. it is now getting to the last quarter of 2024 and i am 23 where i’ve evolved in understanding to where i found ‘nondualism’. i went from law of attraction -> law of assumption & neville goddard -> robotic affirming -> mindset fixing & joe dispensa -> states & edward art -> nondualism. however… i have never manifested a single thing in my life. i used to be filled with anxiety when i said this. fearing these words would cause it to keep going on but i don’t even want to fear anymore. it’s just the truth. your posts taught me that i don’t have to fear my words anymore anyways. i’ve had a dream for a long time. i don’t believe i will ever reach this dream anymore. along with that dream i also just really wanted good for my family and i. you know the basics like financial freedom, happiness, mended relationships. but throughout everything i’ve learned i could never make it work and i’m just done. i guess i will return to living a normal life and just hoping i make it. i hope i find happiness or just.. anything. i’m just letting go of it all because i feel like things shouldn’t be this hard. even going to caleb’s channel and watching his recent ‘your manifestation isn’t taking long, you are’ video…. i’m just… exhausted. i just dont know how to do this and i don’t think i can take life anymore anyways. but yeah i just wanted to say thank you. even though i could never find success, you taught me who I Am. and i’ll forever be grateful for your wisdom even though you’re a bit younger than me. i hope you find continued success and live a happy life. sincerely

THIS IS JUST THE FIRST PART TO THE HUGE POST, PLEASE TAKE YOUR TIME

After what felt like months away from tumblr I really dove into self-inquiry fully, and of course still am, and I promised you guys a mega post so here’s the initial information so far. There is more to come.

IM SORRY IF THERE ARE ERRORS IN GRAMMAR OR SMTH I WROTE THIS AT MANY DIFFERENT MOMENTS THROUGHOUT THE DAY!! FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS, ETC BUT PLS DONT ASK BY RESPONDING TO THIS POST, ITLL CAUSE SO MUCH SPAM ON THE FEED AND MY ASKS PAGE

Hello! Yes I have started looking back into my inbox (THERE ALLOT OF ASKS 😭😭🫶) but I absolutely plan on answering as many as possible, and because your post resonated with how I used to feel, I want to answer yours first.

So to begin with, It makes me so happy to know that what I’ve written has some kind of affect (that being positive). I can’t remember if I told you guys how old I was but I must have cus you seem to know 😭😭, yes I’m 19 we’re very close in age, this moment in life is when allot of us who figure out this stuff lean into it more because we realize how much of a leg up we have if we just “apply” the teachings this early on.

So first what I want to say to you is, no, your not giving up on a dream and neither are you going to live a normal life, I’ll make sure of that, this beautiful world that we step into gives us so much insight on what we inherently are. But I need to remind you and everyone else, this is not some big secret that has to be practiced, it’s a look at what we are and always will be. You have purpose and you deserve to be happy and enjoy a life that’s easy and fulfilling. I apologize in advance because this is going to be a pretty long post!! 🫶🫶

Let’s get rid of the labels and titles we’ve given these understandings as if they are for someone to learn and master. No one masters manifestation, no one will ever master manifestation and I truly don’t care for how many “success stories” they have, it doesn’t hold proving value of what they are (notice how I didn’t say who), we are not who’s, but that’s for later in the post.

The reason I’ve stepped away from the concept of manifesting is because it is inherently lack and separation based. No matter the teaching, they all seem to glorify the idea of getting and achieving which puts great pressure on success stories and all that rubbish. (Not me turning British) 😝😝, okay sorry, so yeah this also goes for nondualism, I don’t associate a title with what I learn, it’s not NonDualism it’s actually just self discovery in disguise of a teaching. But for this exact reason I don’t think to myself “I need to learn NonDualism better”, nononooooo I made this mistake wayyy to much due to the sole fact that I came in with the expectation that this would now teach me the secrets of manifesting. This is kind of the set up to more desire and lack, which is actually the opposite of the self-realization “journey”.

So, when you say you have never manifested anything in your life, I say this with incredible pleasure, that this is impossible, I know I know, before you start thinking to yourself that youve heard this before but I don’t think people go that in depth as to what that even means. So, your life and your problems, are not actually problems.

Self-realization is not the journey for the person to become consciousness, but to understand that you ARE consciousness to begin with. You does no reference a someone, but “ “.

This is going to be, quite a post so PLEASE hang in there. And I just want to add in, this is still not a seperate being trying to understand that it’s connected to conciousness, no, you as conciousness, infinite knowing, are so involved with the content that you appear as, you’ve tricked yourself into thinking that you are just 1 thing of the content. Let me use my first example.

We have given ourselves the greatest interpretation and key to knowing ourself, and that’s dreaming.

Every night, we sleep, HOORRAAYYYY, now let’s get into the details because this is where the magic happens and it clicks.

Take the moment before a dream appears, recognize that when the eyes are closed there’s this presence. Not the darkness, the presence. Something, but not a thing.

Stay here and forget the rest of the world exists for a moment. Now there is only this presence, it’s knowing, it’s being right? Now there’s no actual material but regardless, it is, something. This isn’t something out of this world it’s literally, you. From this, knowing or no-thingness, comes expressions, absolutely infinite potential, this is registered as a dream, but, before the dream in any way can be experienced, there always has to be some type of interpreter/lens, this comes in the form a person or better yet, senses. Of course, there’s nothing to the senses or the person but whatever it’s formulated from, which was that presence/knowing. The activity of this infinite potential that is the knowing, (you asleep) appears, only with the help of a pov/sight.

Nonetheless, it plays out, it plays stories of absolutely anything, for no reason at all, and as it does, we get lost to it, it starts to become real, and without even realizing it, it’s no longer a dream but something we’re experiencing, now you are the character in the dream and you naturally play out the dialogue and storyline and explore the fields, magic towers, and laugh and dance and make friends, and then you wake up.

When you wake up, you recognize “oh, nothing was actually happening”, now of course, when your the person in the dream it is very real, but even then, is it? Knowing what you know, there wasn’t actually a place with dialogue, no character of its own experience or life, no actual forests or fields and magic, no one actually laughing and dancing or friends, but simply the appearance of that. The illusion.

And it’s not that it’s only a formulation of you when you realize it is, but it always is, the dream doesn’t only become an illusion or “fake” when you wake up, it’s naturally just fake, REGARDLESS of how it seems to be. And regardless we sleep every night knowing that we’ll forget it’s a dream.

So I think you can see where I’m headed with this, I’m going to use the example Rupert Spira uses but twist it a bit.

You go to sleep in Australia and dream yourself in the streets of Paris, and you take on the identity of John, you don’t actually become John and experience the streets of Paris.

Now, John drinks coffee and he feels the sunlight warm his skin, sees the greenery, feels the wind, all of it. But despite the way it all seems the sunlight, the sensations that John has, is not actually real, and neither is John. John isn’t actually feeling anything, he doesn’t exist and there is no Paris being traveled. And it’s not John that realizes/awakens to the understanding that he’s fake and this is all a dream, it’s you, asleep in Australia that realizes it as you modulate/formulate as the streets of Paris, the coffee, and the greenery, and John, understand?

The activity of that presence, if you recall when we talked about closing your eyes, formulated as something that seemed so real, and that doesn’t give any reality to the dream itself, because there is no separating the knowing from the content known. Without the “space” for it to appear or form from, how on earth would there be the content? A bigger step forward is to realize that there isn’t even an actual dream occurring but it’s all the self knowing presence of, well, knowing. I want to add something very important before moving on.

Knowing does not happen for the purpose of pleasure, we naturally deconstruct false ideas like this as we go, but something you MUST understand about the nature of existence is, none of this is appearing for the purpose of ant experience, there isn’t actually an experience. No one is enjoying nor hating the illusion, it is simply an appearance.

In the same way that the aware/presence before the dream appears from it simply is, in this way, we are. It’s like saying the TV screen plays a movie and experiences it, or does it for the purpose of experience, no that’s silly, knowing has no inherent motive, it is, you (infinite knowing) don’t “happen” for a purpose, never mind happen at all, you are, and in this do you take form of something, your self aware nature of course knows the content of your own being, but that doesn’t mean the illusion can enjoy itself, or that you enjoy or experience the illusion, it’s just a plain appearance, and that’s it.

For example, when you close your eyes on this next demonstration, truly try to grasp the essence of what I’m trying to explain.

Bring from the nothingness/knowing when you close your eyes, a blue vase, know it in every aspect you can, incorporate every sense you can (even taste if your a little freaky 🫦🫦😭) and make it as present as possible. After you open your eyes I have a question for you. (I’m serious, do the damn practice it’ll help you) please take as much time you need to truly get in there (not too long I can’t wait all day)

okay hey, your back, now answer me this, from what did this immersive appearance take reality from? You and I know that there’s no actual vase despite its presence, no matter the vibrant or dull colors, no matter the feel, rough or glossy, its taste 🫦😭, its feel, etc. So what was the substance that formulated this? If you guessed knowing, your soooooo correct, if you didn’t it’s okay you get brownie points 🫶. But yes, now I need you to understand this verrrry clearly, the vase was not real!!!! Yet it appeared that way! This is AN ILLUSION SURPIRISISIEIEIEIEIEIEISISBWHH- yes. No matter how much you want to convince yourself and go back to the vase and its appearance and its feel or colors or any aspect of it, it wasn’t ACTUALLY happening and that means it didn’t take place for anyone or anywhere!!! All there was present was knowing, from knowing forms vase and every seemingly alternate way that it is known, feeling is a form of knowing, literally every sense is just a form of knowing. Every sense that was “used” to understand the vase was all just aspects and appearances of knowing, the color, the sounds, the taste, the feels, they didn’t formulate anywhere else, but nonetheless appeared as immersive and real because YOU BECAME FOCUSED ON THE CONTENT OF THE APPEARANCE RATHER THAN RECOGNIZE THAT IT WAS JUST APPEARANCE. And even though the content of the appearance you formed as became the focus, it still didn’t change the objective fact that there wasn’t someone actually there and experiencing it in any way.

The knowing in/on which appearances formulate is not something different than the appearance, there is nothing to the illusion but its reality, and its reality is knowing. In this way, the illusion couldn’t even be described as something real or taking place, as if it could exist apart from the source of it.

Knowing this is also knowing there is no such thing as the knowing OF, we never know of things or of experiences as if they are something seperate and exist seperatley from knowing itself, that’s literally impossible. Moving forward

You are not the person/character, and it’s not that you are a limited being and you have to wake up to the idea that you are infinite knowing, you have to realize that you were never something seperate, and that this is simply the modulation of your being, and it’s not a someone it’s more of a something.

Let’s starts stabilizing this.

To all of the experiences across centuries, theres one constant amongst the billions of people who’ve lived and are now and that is, I Am. We might not know for certain about anything else ever in this entire universe, and we might not even know who or what we are but for a fact we can say, yes, I am.

There’s no true word that can describe the infinite essence of being, so we use knowing or conciousness or god, all completely the same.

So, to every experience, without an ounce of doubt, there can be the claim, I am. This is knowing, and only from knowing comes the statement, because we must know we are in order to claim that we are. I think something that can capture this is a newborn, imagine yourself to be newly born, mere seconds I mean, eyes closed. You have no understand of anything, no thoughts, no memories, no identity, your pure experience is simply being/knowing, and I don’t mean the action of knowing, that’s not a real thing. Knowing is inherent, you don’t force it.

Going back to experiences. Any experience that is recognized, any seeing, and hearing, tasting touching, and of course feeling, is assumed to be the experience of the body and this is therefore falsely established as “me”, in doing so, we forget our true nature of freedom and limit our understanding and abilities to the limitations of the body.

I’m now going to help you realize the body is an interpreter, and not of a world that’s happening somewhere in time and space, but that the world is the interpretation/modulation/illusion/dream/appearance of our shared infinite being, AFTER being recognized through the interpretations, (sensations and perceptions). This also means that it’s in no way an actual measurement to what you fully are.

What experience is there to seeing? Better yet let me narrow it down, there is nothing to seeing as if there is someone doing the seeing. Seeing simply is. There’s no one to do it, just what is. There is sight, how is there an acknowledgment of the sight/seeing? There must be something to it that gives the understanding “oh I’m seeing this”. (Hint, it’s the same thing that let you know, that “I Am”). Knowing, yes, not knowing as an action, that’s not real, people don’t know, knowing is the essence of what we are (we are not people). But just wait for that. So all there is to sight is knowing, and I don’t think I have to do this but you can say the same about absolutely every other sense, because every single “experience” absolutely requires knowing. Without knowing, “experience” never is, I think we can all acknowledge that.

There is no such thing as the experience of being a human, Why are we deciding that this is what’s it’s like to be humans, we know humans we acknowledge humans but there is no such thing as being a human, in the same way that there’s no true way that there is something to being a fox or a bird or a rock, it’s only with labels are these ideas decided.

The only thing you’ll be able to muster up is memories, emotions, etc, but that doesn’t make it the inherent experience of being a human. Our first and only experience of what we are is knowing, and then knowing that we are, that’s it. In the same way that a babies first experience is not “I am a baby” or “I am a human”, rather it’s just knowing. If being human was our nature, that’s all we’d recognize, and from the very beginning. Our experience does not actually change from being/knowing, we simply forget that there is the knowing, and decide to focus on the body to be “me” or “human”.

You don’t need senses to know you are. Knowing is something unimaginable. Go ahead and try to find it by closing your eyes or even with them open. Can you grab or touch the knowing. Can you recognize its dimensions or what its appearance is? How old or young is it?

Do me a favor and find the edge where knowing starts and stops.

Let me know when you find it because you never will.

Even when you try, it’s only conciousness itself that searches for its own parameters.

By recognizing that your truly not the body, or this person you as knowing have pretended to become, the made up problems of the person disappear, well actually, you realize that there is no person that has problems, only an idea. Only the idea that I am someone and something is happening to me, I am something seperate and need saving. There isn’t actually a seperate self, the seperate self is the activity that you as knowing are, when you become involved with the content and forget your true nature. And what’s truly the main takeaway from this is that, even when it seems like you’ve lost it and now you have to restart and understand it all over again, you as knowing haven’t gone anywhere, your the one pretending to be something lost, and not on purpose, but because you involve yourself too heavily in the appearances without recognizing where they originate from.

From what we know so far, I hope in some way you’re able to recognize that there is no one doing manifestations and having success stories. You ARE the manifestation and it will NEVER be any other way, whether we recognize it or not, that’s the beauty. So no matter if we go on about this appearance of life and say we don’t get it and move on, you as conciousness will continue to play the roles, because there is no off switch to this.

I’m hope this has been able to start untying the blinds over your “eyes” and you’re starting to somewhat understand the truth of what you/we are. This is only the beginning and it’s only going to get more incredible and beautiful from here. But for now I’m shleeepy hehehe, I’ll talk to you soon, never ever give up on your dreams!!!! 🫶❤️❤️

#blommp717 #nonduality #manifestation #manifest #non dualism #nondualism #advaita vedanta #master manifestor #law of assumption #law of attraction

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