#and i encourage you to maybe seek those things out first!! esp if you seeing stuff like that might affect you
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salam. i hope you are holding up ok w everything that is going on. i wanted to ask how you deal w being muslim and gay? i don't know anybody like me so it feels like i am a lonely unicorn. feel alienated by both my own community and the LGBT (i live in the west). i feel angry, lost etc. at both communities and i am often reluctant to practice my religion when i hear homophobic remarks etc. somehow i am too resigned to pray and then that feeling goes away and i go back to worshipping, esp when in crisis. i want to wear hijab as well but i realize that's only a response to my anger at westerners and one of the reasons i do not wear hijab is obv to avoid discrimination (i'm passing) in the professional field & also bc i think no gay woman will like me if i wear it. sorry if this question is too much, you don't have to answer, but if you have any experience or advice to share i would be grateful. thank you ❤️
hi angel .. im sorry for the late reply i had to run to an inspection when i got this i really hope u see it even though i dont know that i can offer much i just want to say im here for u.
i hope u are okay, the world is shaky and scary. im really happy u reached out to me and i think if u take anything from this it’s that reaching out is the first step. i wouldn’t say im at all entrenched in any community or fully at peace w who i am, that’s lifelong work, but it does get easier and sometimes u find little blessings in the people who show up. i feel the exact same way you do rn - alienated, angry, lost, at a crossroads. i often feel there’s no space for me anywhere and many lgbt muslims/religious gays in general feel the same especially when we’re young. i’ve also experienced periods where my faith slipped and i felt too defeated and betrayed to practice my religion fully or even in the smallest most private ways (until a few days ago i had not prayed for months since some very distressing things happened to me) but i always find myself coming back to it bc for me personally islam brings me immense comfort and grounds me, even or maybe especially after long periods of not being a “good muslim”. religion is a deeply personal thing no matter what everyone has told and will keep trying to tell u. the question is does it soothe you? does it bring you peace and comfort? away from everyone else’s eyes, do you feel connected to something higher when you take the time to do these designated rituals? i really think that’s the only thing that matters. and you might not have an answer for that rn or for a long time and that’s ok too, no one has everything figured out. stay away as much as you can from ppl u aren’t forced to be around who try to tell you how to be lgbt how to be muslim how you can’t be both etc. they’re just parroting what they think to be true and they don’t realise how draining it can be for others. protect yourself and listen to yourself. be careful what u share with whom. those r the biggest lessons i’ve learned and the only thing that’s helped make the burden feel lighter is finding other people like you and trust me when i tell u they exist!!! u just have to be a little braver and more intentional in seeking them out, if u can do so safely, bc like you they probably feel that they are alone and there’s no one else who will understand. (and when u find them, hear them out, share a little bit, but remember they are there for a sense of shared community, a delicate connection, not as a strict guide on how YOU need to be; only you decide that and that becomes easier w time)
now depending on where u are it may not be feasible to do so - i spent most of my life as an immigrant in qatar, a very small country w a death penalty or best case scenario deportation “solution” for people like us, where the idea of finding community was not only unthinkable but also seemed straight up ridiculous to me. i never tried looking, i wouldnt encourage doing so if ur in a western country that is similarly rigid unless u know what ur doing and have a support network. in this case all i can recommend is to reach out to organisations that sympathise if there are any, and hang on until ur in a safe space. BUT if there is no such threat to ur daily life, i really really urge u to seek out others like u.. and it’s likely you’ll have to look outside ur immediate circle. at first you won’t know where to look, i didn’t, i tried looking through uni, through apps, through meetups, groups specifically run by lgbt people of colour/marginalised lgbt ppl, and it will take time and a lot of trial and error and at times even ‘desperate’ or embarrassing attempts, at least it did for me. i got lucky by finding friends through friends and then friends of friends of friends etc who were like me and while i definitely wouldn’t say i connected w all of them or even liked all of them or that i have a stable network of other lgbt muslims (most of the ones i met live really far away and meetups are extremely rare but whenever i do talk to them it’s really healing) it really does help to know that somewhere not too far, u have someone who understands. so reach out. it’s hard and gruelling and isolating work but that’s the first and main thing to do to combat these unpleasant feelings of loneliness and anger. i wrestle w very complicated and conflicting things on a daily basis that most of my immediate circle couldn’t even begin to understand, so don’t do the mistake of sitting on it forever.
as for other people, gay women, muslims, whoever, i don’t have much experience here w the latter because im mostly focused on sorting myself out first before trying to fully integrate into like, being w other women in that capacity, and maybe im taking a little longer than i’d like but the good that comes out of this is im a lot less concerned about what other people have to say to me abt my identity. if gay women don’t like me bc of my hijab or my religion i really don’t gaf, they’re obviously not meant for me. don’t cater yourself to anyone but yourself, this goes for both sides. u don’t need to appease the gays by shutting down your religion and u don’t need to appease the muslims by believing u are wrong and an abomination. u were created this way, gay and it seems like u have a sort of tether to ur religion, how is that ur fault or something for u to adjust? the right people will come and the wrong ones will make it obvious (inshallah very quickly). and sometimes in our situation we find ourselves loving and deeply caring for people who just really don’t get it. that’s not ur fault either or something to resent! im starting to enjoy thinking of it as a variety. just do ur best to make sure these ppl are looking out for u and genuinely care for ur well-being even if they don’t really “get” you. and if u have no choice in the matter, hold on to the hope that people who DO get you are coming. islam is the connection between you and allah - that’s it. drown out everything else and don’t let noises distract you from that. i personally wear a hijab because it’s a part of who i am and makes me feel more protected (in a spiritual sense, i am of course very aware now that i live in australia that on a social level it can make me more of a target but i have not been threatened yet to the point of where im forced to remove it. u are not a bad muslim for choosing not to wear it, whatever ur reasoning is).
god gave us a tricky life, one can only theorise why, but what i do know is there are very few people on this earth who will understand u completely, even other lgbt muslims, and even fewer who will have ur best interest at heart. inshallah u find those few sooner rather than later, and remember the point is to let others lighten the load because this is a heavy thing to carry all by yourself. even online ppl in the same position will help. u have me 🧡 i am not experienced or developed enough to offer much more beyond this but i hope you can find some clarity and peace and i hope this helps in even a tiny way. i feel for you
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I have NEVER watched spn but you are making the urge to do so very strong.
OH MY GD ADSGSADGSADGDSAGSADGADSG
i dont know whether to say "im so sorry" or "you are very welcome". so anon: good luck LMAO
start this show At Thine Own Risk, if you want to! but let it be KNOWN that i will not be held accountable for any damages or cases of Intense Brain Rot you may incur if you do. the best way to watch it is probably with a friend or two, even if its just some ppl you can liveblog your reactions to. trust me, youll NEED that outlet. other than that, before you start this show PLEASE BEWARE:
- tons of racism
- just, so much sexism
- any sort of trans-/homophobia u can imagine (and worse, probably)
- lots of death and injury and similarly upsetting things (i was never really aware for example just HOW often we get close-ups of someone cutting their arm/hand in this show until a friend who was sensitive to that sorta thing pointed it out)
and always remember that this show was written by Mostly Straight Men in 2005 and onwards. so dont let ur hopes get too high <3 all the best things about this show are unintentional writing choices and fan interpretation anyway
(PS: im PRETTY sure ive seen a Guide or two around about which episodes are skippable and which are character/plot important, so if you decide to get into this show But Dont Want To Spend 13+ Days Of Your Life on it, lmk! ill reblog one or something)
#spn#anon#asked#a personal blogging experience#this all to say! dear anon!! that i am for One not the best person to talk about the Many fuckin hatecrimes this show commits#(i am queer neurodivergent and a woman and thats about all i can claim for myself. so! yeah. other ppl have written up MUCH better Takes#about for example the racism and trans/homophobia baked into this show#and i encourage you to maybe seek those things out first!! esp if you seeing stuff like that might affect you#the Other thing is also that as much as i hate this show for a lot of reasons. i dont really like holding onto negativity too much#bc it just kinda exhausts me. so if youve gotten a positive image of this show from my tag ramblings????#please know that i am a sentimental bitch who likes to pretend sometimes that this show doesnt suck as bad as it does lmao#it was a Big Part of my highschool years so i just. feel some kinda way about it#SO? do i recommend it? yes/no. its a bad show except sometimes it really HITS. its a good show except i hate it intensely#i will recommend it but ONLY on the condition that you know what ur signing up for (a lot of disappointment most likely)#i ASSUME that if uve followed me for any length of time you know im a tag-ranting kinda person and that u should read my tags always.#so if you are still reading these: hi i love you <3#its very weird to hear that i am any sort of parasocial influence on other ppl. but im always happy to spread my brain rot <3#EDIT: ive sat here for like 10 minutes maybe and like. anon if ur readin this: PLEASE feel free to message me or send an ask off-anon#i would LOVE to talk more with u if ur down for that
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Settle || Mob!Tom Smut
summary ↠ distance may make the heart grow fonder, but you’d spend every day by tom’s side if you could.
warnings ↠ a bit of angst, and this is just.... so fucking smutty.... pwp but make it 8k of smut... 18+ minors dni !!!!!!!!!!! extended nsfw warnings below the cut <3
word count ↠ 11.7k.
a/n ↠ lads... lost my mind I’ve lost it. the mob!tom energy has been absolutely overwhelming for the last month, and this has been a long time coming. thank you esquire. thank you gq. thanks tom too, I guess, even though his handsomeness is a double-edged sword. also thanks to chloe for motivating me to write this lmao. this was a lot of fun!! softness sweetness debased animalistic crazy stuff. we love to see it. lmk what you think !! <3
***this is a part of my mob!tom series – a collection of oneshots set within the same universe. you don’t need to read the other parts for this to make sense!
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
extended warnings ↠ praise kink, breeding kink, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying, biting, spitting, oral + fingering (fem receiving), unprotected sex (the long-awaited return of cum-dumpster!reader), minor d/s dynamics ft soft!dom!tom, possessiveness in the dirty talk, and I wouldn’t say it’s degradation but there is some patronisation lmao. this is intense loving passionate consuming smut, esp the second section. pls practice safe sex irl x
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
✧ *:･ﾟSETTLE･ﾟ:*✧
Tom is wrapped around you, his rich scent overpowering each one of your senses. He consumes you. He becomes you.
With your face buried in the crook of his neck and your legs swung either side of his thighs, you’re clinging tightly to him. One of his hands rests beneath the shirt on your back, the tips of his fingers slowly stroking up and down your spine, and you can feel the firm press of his nose against the side of your head. His face nestles against your hair as he holds you to the warm skin of his neck. Every few minutes, Tom pulls away from the documents and spreadsheets resting on his desk and litters the side of your temple with short kisses.
There’s a persistent throbbing between your legs, but it’s worth it. Tom’s cock is buried inside you, his length enveloped by your silky heat. You can feel him, bearing in on every intimate space of your cunt. In your aroused state, you swear you can make out the lines of his bulbous head and the curves of his veins as they press up against your sensitive walls. You’re pulsing—every slight movement made by either you or him causing you to gasp softly and cling closer to your boyfriend.
“God, darling,” Tom murmurs, accented voice hanging low and heavy. He strokes over your back again, and you hear him click his ballpoint pen. When he tosses the heavy metal object back onto the desk, he sits back in the wide office chair that the two of you are precariously balanced on. You aren’t scared of falling off—you’ve done this before, countless times. You know that he’s got you. “So fuckin’ snug, aren’t you?”
You pull away from your boyfriend’s neck, sucking in a rough breath as you sit up to face him and receive the lightest of friction against your g-spot. As your teeth dig into your lower lip, you take a few moments to admire his ensemble—light white shirt, unbuttoned and hanging open, a delicate silver chain dangling over the golden expanse of his chest. He’s got his rings stacked over his fingers, and the bright metal pieces catch in your hair as he smoothes a hand across your cheek.
Tom smirks at you, his deep brown eyes flooded with lusting appreciation. With one hand on your face, the other slowly slides down your back, drifting over the loose shirt that covers your figure until it disappears between your legs. You cry out as his index finger reaches down to play with your clit, still wet and sensitive from his exploration earlier. He’d opened you up on his tongue before sheathing himself inside you.
“You just got so tight, angel,” he murmurs, voice raspy. “Do you like when I show you a bit of attention?”
“Yeah,” you whimper. You can barely keep your eyes open as he continues to toy with your bud. It’s hard to push down the temptation to start riding him, but you know that’s not the point of this. As much as you crave release and the opportunity to fall apart whilst being encompassed by Tom, there are other objectives at play. “I’ll miss this,” you admit. “I’ll miss you.”
“I know, my darling.” Tom’s expression briefly clouds over, some of the heat leaving his eyes. He rolls the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, a gentle pout curling across his lower lip. “I don’t want to leave you.”
You lick your lower lip, pushing back the hot lump of emotion that simmers in your chest. All week, you’ve felt apprehensive for his departure, anticipating today with unease. Tom is a good businessman, and usually he’s able to control his own empire from the comfort of his West London mansion. For so long, he’s been near you, lingering close, never trailing too far from your side. But there’s uncertainty in the air, and they need him out in Manchester for a few weeks to whip the boys back into shape. Until the supply issue is resolved, he’ll be away—away from you, and your bed, and the life that you’ve constructed so precariously together.
In this world of drugs and darkness, nothing is certain. You fall asleep beside Tom each night thankful that he’s safe, he’s here, he’s content. You know plenty of people who haven’t been afforded such a luxury. Your boyfriend has enemies who seek revenge and retribution, and their greedy eyes follow him from every direction. They’re like wolves, every single one of them—suppliers, rivals, the law—waiting in the shadows, preparing to pounce at the first sign of weakness.
You shouldn’t love him. He’s not a good man. Tom has told you as much repeatedly—in his deprecating words, in the underhanded dealings that go on around your dinner table, through his violent actions against opponents. But he loves you, and he is a good man, to you, and maybe that’s all that matters. Maybe you can take the pain and the darkness, because it affords you a glimmer of light in the form of your boyfriend. Tom holds you at the very centre of his universe, and as he cups your face in a gentle hand and coaxes you in for a sweet kiss, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your life may be characterised by uncertainty, but there is no doubt in the way that he loves you, so recklessly and fiercely. He gives you everything that he has without hesitation.
The kiss grows deeper, and you moan into Tom as he presses his tongue into your mouth. He’s still rolling your clit beneath his thumb, and you reach up to grab fistfuls of his hair. When he’d pulled you into the office earlier and begged you to spend time with him, it’d come with the caveat that you need not distract him from his final pieces of work. He seems to have abandoned that decision now, as he ruts up into you when you groan into his mouth.
“Sweet love,” he purrs, voice darker. Tom squeezes your cheek, the cool metal of his ring pressing to your skin as he holds you tightly. He releases your face a moment later, fingers shifting to your waist as his lips grace over the tender part of your face. “God, I’ll miss you. Miss this fuckin’ cunt.” He kisses down from your cheek, shifting back and towards your ear. You release a wispy moan as he finds your tender spot, sucking harshly against the skin then soothing the ache with his hot tongue. “So perfect for me.”
“You’re perfect,” you murmur, mind slow. Tom holds your hip slowly and encourages you to move, and both of you release sounds of enjoyment as you begin to ride him. Your entrance aches, stretched wide around his girth, but as his finger rubs persistent circles across your bud, it soothes into pleasure. “Fuck, Tom… You fill me up completely. You’re in so deep.”
“I know, darling,” he murmurs. When you toss your head back and start to move faster, he’s quick to attach his lips to your neck. “Tightest little thing,” he adds, voice scalding against your ear. “I know I’ll be dreaming of you, angel. Every single night.”
You cry out as he helps you shift slightly to the side, optimising your pleasure. As the crown of Tom’s cock rubs up against your back wall, you shudder, breath hitching. The sounds of your heat, so wet and silky, being fucked repeatedly as you come down on him again and again spurs you on. It grows wild quickly, Tom leaving your neck and sitting back in his chair just to watch you ride him so perfectly. His eyes are dark and passionate, and his gaze so intense that it’s as if he’s trying to burn the memory to mind.
“I don’t think I can hold it,” you admit, eyes threatening to roll back. After sitting on his cock for fifteen minutes, you were already riled up. Now, you’re on cloud nine. Pleasure has your toes curling, the muscles in your thighs tensing and straining as you cling to the back of Tom’s head and tug on his curls. “T-Tom.”
“That’s it, gorgeous. Say my name.”
His ring digs into your side, spurring you on. As the cool metal nicks at your skin, the coil in your stomach tightens further.
“Oh,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut. No longer able to see Tom’s handsome face, you’re left only with the sensations, pulsing out from your centre. You’re on the verge, inching closer with every time Tom pulls you back onto his cock. He works you open, thrusts into you deep, leaves you gasping.
“C’mon, pretty baby,” he murmurs, hot lips moving forward to press at your neck. “Make me cum. I know you want it, don’t you?”
A throaty groan travels past your lips as you know exactly what he’s talking about. You’d stopped taking birth control a week ago, and though both of you know that the chances of you falling pregnant so soon after ending those hormones are slim, the possibility is there. Sex now feels dangerous, the extra weight to it filling you with arousal and excitement.
“Yes,” you whimper. “Please.”
Tom nips at your ear, the bite of pain making you moan.
“Go on,” he coos, voice sweet, sultry. “I’m going to fill you up, darling. Give you something to remember me by.” His hand slips from his waist and travels to your lower stomach, resting there. “Right here,” he adds. “Do you want it, love? You need to work for it. Cum on my cock, mm? Let me feel how desperate your tight little pussy is for my cum.”
Tom snaps his hips up to yours, and a few moments later, you peak. Your climax burns through you, your walls clamping down around his length in a way that makes him groan loudly. You open your eyes to watch his face seize up, freezing with pleasure and enjoyment as his jaw tenses and his eyes squeeze shut. You feel his cock pulsing as you continue to move over him, lost in the pleasure that spirals out from your cunt and your clit. His pants are laboured too.
When you come down from it, you settle in his lap, sweaty palms grasping at his face. Tom pulls you closer, wrapping you up in his arms as he presses his forehead to yours. His nose bumps against yours, tip warm. Every part of him is warm.
“I love you so much,” he says, voice serious. “More than you could ever imagine, Y/N.”
You smile. “I love you too,” you whisper.
Tom pulls back from you to pepper his lips across your face, dusting every inch of your skin with his mouth. You’re still connected at your centre, and you know the moment you stand, you’ll feel the evidence of his love dripping down your thighs.
“I—”
A rough knocking sound bursts into the room, hard knuckles drumming over the office door. You jump, and Tom’s brows crease. He brings both of his hands to cover your ears and kisses the tip of your nose before sitting up a little straighter.
“What the fuck do you want?” he hollers, voice terse. He’s muffling the volume with his palms, but you still wince, and he kisses your nose again in penance.
“Sir, we have to go. The men are waiting—”
Tom’s face ripples with irritation. You watch the vein stand out in his neck, fading only when his eyes sweep back to your face. He deflates as he brings his lips down across your forehead.
“I’ll be two minutes,” he barks back. “Now piss off. I’m with my girl.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tom peels his hands away from your ears, then rubs each one of your earlobes with the soft pads of his thumbs. “Sorry about that, my darling,” he mumbles, shadows covering his features. His teeth dig into his lower lip as he sighs. “I need to go.”
You feel your face fall, and break eye contact when the intensity of his gaze grows too much. “Okay,” you mumble.
“Hey.” Tom grasps your chin between his index and his middle finger. “I’ll come back to you,” he promises. You know he can feel your reluctance to let him go, can see it on your face without you having to verbalise it. You wonder if he’s been able to tell how unsettled you feel about the whole ordeal, and if maybe that’s why he’s let you be more clingy this week.
“What if you don’t?” you breathe out, unable to keep it in. You blink a few times, trying to hide the watery film of tears that shakes across your eyes. “What if something happens to you whilst you’re away, and you don’t come home?” You reach down and grab at his shirt, clenching your knuckles around the crisp material. “Tom, you are my home. I don’t know what I’ll do if—”
“I’ll come back, baby.” He kisses you softly, a few fingers brushing up beneath your chin and tilting you to him. “I always will. I promise. I’m a man of my word, so you know that’s true.”
You manage a thin smile, heart aching even as Tom cups your face in his hands. “I love you,” you say finally. “And I’ll be waiting for you to get back.”
Tom nods. His cheeks are still flushed, and his hair is a mess, but the fire in his eyes is undeniable. When he deposits a light kiss to your cheek and then lets his lips brush you against your earlobe, you know that he’ll be back. You know he’d never fail you.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
A month passes. You miss Tom desperately.
For the first three weeks, you manage to control the sadness in your chest. Finding distraction in your job and your friends, you’re able to forget about the giant Tom-shaped hole in your heart. He lingers on, though, his love persistent even in his absence. Despite finding certain ways to limit your anguish, like daily calls, and soaking your wrists in his cologne each morning, the time only worsens your heartache. You’re miserable without him.
In the fourth week, it reaches the point where you can no longer pretend you aren’t aching for him. You miss him in a way you’ve never felt before, his absence from your home like a sharp spire ever-present in your chest, burrowing deeper every lonely morning. Tom can’t ease you, doesn’t know himself when he’ll be able to come home. The job he’s had to do has spiralled, with mutinous men and delayed shipments, and it’s in too precarious a position for him to leave and come back to you. When you’d suggested visiting, he’d immediately wiped that option from the table, citing the acts of violence and uneven atmosphere as too great a risk to take. You understand it, but you miss him, and it permeates every part of your life.
It’s late Tuesday night, and in a fitless trance, you find yourself walking up to the third floor of the mansion. When you’d moved in, almost a year ago, Tom had tried to make you feel as comfortable as possible. In his efforts, he’d installed an art studio for you to use. The gesture went in tandem with his greatest gift to you so far—your very own art gallery, right in the centre of London. The studio is a large room, framed with huge windows which overlook the sprawling estate. Tonight, all you can make out is the dim driveway and the crescent moon, hanging thinly in the sky.
After turning on some music and slipping on your painting apron, you take your place in front of your easel. As you stare at the blank canvas, your fingers shift up to absently run the line of Tom’s ring. It hangs on a chain around your neck, silver and bold. You hadn’t realised that he’d left it with you until you’d reached into your pocket the day of his departure and found it sitting there. You know the matching ring stays wrapped around his pinky finger, and it brings you a sense of comfort to trace the smooth band and feel connected to him, even in a small way.
You decide to paint Tom, trying to coax him to life from your memories. Shades of gold and brown take form over your canvas. With every brush stroke and flick of your wrist, you feel lighter, some of the ache lessening.
Hours pass, interrupted only by the ringing of your phone. Biting back a small curse word as you feel your concentration shatter, you put your paintbrush down and tug your phone from your back pocket. Your frown fades as you see Tom’s name, flashing on the screen besides an image of his face.
“T,” you greet, the relief in your voice obvious even to you. “Hey.”
There’s silence for a few moments, then his voice crackles down the line. “Hi, darling,” Tom speaks. “It’s not too late to talk, is it?”
You glance up at the ornate clock sitting on the wall. The feature is grand and solid gold, matching the themes of the rest of his house. Tom likes decadence. His luxurious touch is evident in the patterns of red, black, and metals that cling to each article of furniture. When you see that it’s 2am, you blink a few times, shaking off your surprise as you realise how much time has passed since you’d started to paint.
“It’s okay,” you reply. “I’m painting.”
“Ahhh.” You hear the rustling of sheets, and you imagine Tom in bed. He’s probably bundled up in sweats and a hoodie, sprawled out across his mattress. The house in Manchester always runs cold, and you’ve heard his complaints consistently for the last few weeks. The image of him resting up against the headboard, pouting from beneath a pile of blankets makes you smile. “What are you working on?”
You smile into your phone, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “You,” you tell him. “Just your eyes at the moment, and the outline of your hair.”
“Me again?” Tom speaks, and his tone is like soft velvet, gentle and crushing at the edges. “I’m flattered, darling.”
“Mmm.” You fiddle with his ring. “I’ll need to dedicate a wall to you in the gallery. You’re my favourite muse.”
Tom chuckles. “That’d be an honour,” he says, voice dropping in volume. “It’s a privilege to be loved by you.” His voice twangs sadly, and you feel yourself frowning.
“Are you okay, baby?”
He’s quiet for a few moments. You find yourself biting your lip.
“Yeah,” he says, voice thicker. “Long day.”
“What did you do?”
He sucks in a harsh breath, air catching on the back of his teeth. “Can we just talk about you for a minute?”
Worry furrows your brow. “Okay,” you say, drawing out the syllable as you scramble for words to fill the gap. “Today I visited your mother.”
“Oh?”
“She wanted me to show her how I made those biscuits, from your birthday last year?” You pause until he makes a noise of recognition. “Ended up staying there for a while, had some tea. Gossiped about you.”
Tom snorts. “Learn anything good?”
“Only that you were just as much of a terror as a child,” you reply. “She sent me photos. I’ll text them to you later.”
It’d been a sobering experience to see Tom so animated and innocent as a child, but you don’t tell him that. So much as changed since he was seven and running through a field with his brothers. He has lost more than you could ever fathom.
“Did she show you the one with my head half shaved?”
You laugh. “Yeah,” you say, smiling against the phone. You’re holding the device tightly in your fingers, clinging to it almost desperately. “I can’t believe Harry did that to you.”
“Well, I did piss him off,” Tom reasons. “I got him back, anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah, darling. Put a bunch of, like, millipedes and creepy crawly things in his bed.” Tom pauses to laugh, his voice lighter. “He hated me for about a year after that. Tried to kill me with his eyes every time he saw me.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re a nightmare,” you respond. “I’m seeing him at the weekend, and Sam. I can’t wait to get their perspectives on the demon you used to be.”
“I’m still a demon now, darling.”
“Yeah.” You lick across your lower lip, mind briefly darkening. He can be particularly devilish, whenever the mood strikes. “Love you, though.”
“And I love you.” Tom’s quiet again for a few moments, and when he speaks, his voice is gentle, “I love how much you like my family. It’s really special to me that you get along with them.”
You suck on your lower lip. “Of course,” you reply. “I love them. They… They feel like my brothers too, sometimes. Is that weird?”
“No.” You hear rustling again, followed by a soft grunt as he tries to find a better position to lay in. “Darling, family is everything to me, you know that. It’s a joy to see you fit in with my family, and I know they love you like a sister, too. Mum’s always saying how she sees you like a daughter.”
You glance up at your canvas, the shapes blurring with unshed tears. “She said that today, actually,” you murmur.
“Exactly.” Tom’s voice is passionate, alight and engaged. You can feel his strain. “You’re family.”
The air between you stills, and you wonder if he knows that you’re on the verge of tears, if he knows how grateful you are to him for inviting you into his life and letting you touch each piece of him without hesitation. The intricacies of his soul have gone so long unfelt, but he’s let you handle them, let you dust them off and admire them.
“Show me your art?” Tom adds, voice slightly thicker. “Please?”
“One sec.” You swallow down the hot lump of emotions that press at the back of your throat and pull your phone away from your ear. After briefly tousling your hair, you tap at the screen and enable the video setting. You flip the camera so it’s facing out in front of you, the canvas being framed by your phone screen. “This is what I’ve been doing today… Over there are the ones from the last few weeks.”
Tom spends a few minutes on a virtual tour of your studio, cooing soft words of endearment as you talk him through each piece. He’s tired, his voice often interspersed with soft yawns and grunts of fatigue, but he blows away all suggestions of disconnecting. Your tour takes you all throughout the house, showing him the slight alterations you’ve made to a few pieces of furniture in his absence. You end up in your bedroom, showing him the new blanket you bought for your bed.
“I want to see your face,” you whine, finally settling in bed. You’re laying on his side, head resting on top of the pillow that smells of him. Tom had watched you change into pyjamas, witnessed you brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed. All you’ve had is a black screen. “How am I supposed to sleep without seeing you, Tommy?” You pout at the blank phone, trying really hard to get him to yield. It’s 3am now and you’re delirious with fatigue, but you’re craving him more than ever.
“I don’t look nice, though,” he complains. “I look ugly.”
You practically recoil at the words. You hope he can feel the ferocity in your gaze as you glare at your phone’s camera.
“You don’t,” you say. “You never look anything short of handsome.”
Tom chuckles. “You’re too kind,” he says, “but really. I got beat up a bit. My face is all…” He makes a sound of nonchalance. “Well.. It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to know the gory details.”
Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead at the word gory. “Show me,” you ask, voice softer. You snuggle further into bed, pulling the sheets further around your figure and trying to pretend you’re being hugged by your boyfriend instead of the feather down duvet. “Please, baby. I’m worried.”
Tom sighs. “Okay, but before I show you, you have to promise not to freak out.” As he sees your widening eyes, he adds. “Exactly! Don’t freak out! I’m fine. Can’t even feel it, the amount of painkillers I’m on. I’m alright.”
“...Okay.”
A few moments pass, and you hear him curse as he clumsily presses at the screen. When your phone lights up, showing a depiction of your boyfriend’s face, you have to bite back a gasp. Bruises cloud his left cheek, deep shades of red clinging to his cheekbone. There are scratches, too, riddled with scabs and lined with pink skin. The most obvious and upsetting sign of his injury however is his nose.
“Did you break your nose again?” you ask, voice soft. The skin beneath his eyes is bruising, and there’s a dark mark across the bridge of his nose.
“No, thank god,” Tom murmurs. “Just got hit on it.”
He’s laying in bed too, and you turn onto your side and prop him up on one of the pillows so it’s as if he’s laying beside you. With a dark burgundy hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring his curls, he looks pale and tepid. His cheeks are sunken, and it’s not just from the injury. Tom seems exhausted.
“Are you okay, apart from that?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay, Tom?”
He offers a weak smile. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” His voice fades with each iteration. You watch as Tom bites his lower lip, then reaches up to press his fingers into the tense lines of his pebbled forehead. “Just tired, darling. It’s been a busy week.”
“Come home,” you say, sleepy and wistful. “I’ll take care of you.”
“I can’t, my darling,” he mumbles. Tom’s eyes look at you sadly. “Things would fall apart.”
“You’re falling apart.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Will you?”
Tom’s quiet for a while, and you watch him swallow. He gives you a tense nod, lips pulled into a frown. “I have to be.”
His words hurt you, but you know you shouldn’t push it further. Not with his eyes glassy and his chin twitching.
“You don’t,” you say softly. “Come home.”
Tom hums. His eyes are like two diamonds, holding the weight of the world, of a life so recklessly lived. His gaze skitters across your phone, and he arches a brow when he sees you stifle a yawn. “Goodnight, darling.”
You wish you could hold him, or touch him. You wish you could get anything more than the static and the empty bed.
“Night, Tom,” you whisper. “Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams to you too, baby.” Tom puckers up his lips and blows you a kiss. You return it, lips tweaking into a soft smile. “Love you more than anything.”
Your voice feels thick as you echo the sentiments. “Talk tomorrow,” you murmur, tired. “Love you.”
“Bye, bye, bye.”
You’re the one to disconnect, unable to take the imminent heartache that comes with being the last to say goodbye. Tom fades, and you let your phone fall over.
The pain returns, pressing into your heart. It’s raw and cold, and it makes you shiver. A few tears soak into the pillow that smells of him, cool against your hairline.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
You wake up the next morning, slowly at first, then all at once.
It’s light in your bedroom. Your sleepy mind wonders if you’d forgotten to draw the curtains when you’d crashed out last night. As you bemoan the bright light that hurts your closed eyes, you slowly twitch awake. Feeling an ache in your arm, you try to move, only to find something rendering you incapacitated. You frown in your tired haze, trying again to move, just to stay exactly where you are again. Your brows furrow next, and you slowly rouse to consciousness as you try to work out what’s going on.
Your heart rate spikes as you realise there are two arms wrapped around you. Warmth envelops you, pressing into your back, your legs, your waist. You jerk awake, panicking for a moment before you feel his lips on your shoulder, and smell the familiar scent of him.
“Shh, darling. It’s me.”
Immediately, you roll over, twisting in his arms until you’re looking at him. His eyes are soft, hair a mess, and he offers you the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen.
“Tom?!” you exclaim, voice catching in the back of your throat. “H-How— but—?”
Both of Tom’s hands go to your cheeks, and he pulls you in for a blinding morning kiss. You sigh as warmth fills every part of you, his lips washing away the angst and the sadness you’d felt just hours earlier. You moan into it, a soft rumble, and curl into him. As you run your hands over his bare form, you appreciate how his muscles are firm and supple beneath your fingertips. You map him out attentively, touch dipping into the shades of his muscles as you try to imprint him to your memory again.
When Tom breaks the kiss, he presses his lips to the tip of your nose. As his warm breath fans out across your face, he stares at you, eyes gentle. Keeping one hand on your cheek, Tom lets the other drift down. When he reaches your neck, he tugs at the chain you keep looped around your throat, his nimble fingers going to play with the ring on the end, still there, hanging between you.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he says slowly. He pulls on the chain and brings you in nearer, kissing you again, softly. “We said goodnight, and...”
Your hands are in his hair, gently stroking the mane from his face. It’s longer now, thicker and brighter than before. You push it away and look at his features. The bruises don’t seem as pronounced now, and you think he must’ve spent time in the sun. Light freckles dust the bridge of his nose, slanted and wonky but perfect nonetheless.
“Hmm?”
Tom licks his lips. “I couldn’t stay away any longer. I left it all to Haz.” Again, he steals your lips in a kiss. He follows up the action with several more, light dustings in quick succession. He tastes minty, and you wonder how long he’s been cuddling you. “I don’t care if we lose Manchester. I don’t care if we lose everything.” He swallows seriously. “I can’t lose you.”
“You were never going to lose me,” you whisper. You brush your thumb across his unscarred cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But I missed you,” Tom whines. He drops his face, lips drifting down to suckle at the base of your neck. You giggle as he leaves tickling kisses all over your skin, mouthing at all the spots that make you laugh until he’s found his way up to your lips. With a hand on your jaw, fingers on your chin, he guides your face to look at him. “Time away gave me a lot of time to think,” he adds, voice drifting lower. A shadow of a doubt passes over his face. “I spent a long time pondering.”
“Yeah?” If he wasn’t holding you so tightly, you’d be concerned. Instead, you continue to muss your thumb across his cheekbone, gazing at him adoringly. “What were you thinking about?”
“Hmm. Well…” Tom lies back, sitting up with his elbow digging into the pillow as he turns to rest on his side. You mirror his position, stretching out your legs beneath the covers as a small yawn slips past you. “I realised that you’re the only person who makes a nice cup of tea. Even I can’t make one as well as you.”
You smile softly. “Don’t let Harrison hear that.”
He chuckles. “He’d be a bitch about it.” Tom’s eyes slide over your figure, gaze soft. You hum in quiet agreement, and he sucks in another breath. “I realised that no one else loves my friends like you do, and the same with my family.” Tom reaches out, hand slithering beneath the duvet until he finds your waist. His fingers are smooth, without the jewelry that usually adorns them. His calloused fingertips roll across your hip, and everything about the moment feels bare and authentic. “I love you now, and I know that I’ll love you forever.”
Something inside your chest clicks, and you find yourself looking at him a little differently.
“Where’s this all coming from?” you ask, looking at him, eyes wide.
“My heart.” Tom pulls you a little closer, and you think you see him swallow nervously. “C’mere, angel.” He turns and lays on his back, gently coaxing you to straddle him.
You settle over him, laying on top of his bare chest. He’s in boxers, and they rub up against your shorts as you shift around on top of him. Tom’s hair presses into the white pillow, wild and messy, but not unlike a halo. With the late morning sun highlighting his worn face with golden stripes, he looks ethereal.
“Darling,” he murmurs. “Gimme a kiss.”
You bend over, and Tom greets you with a warm open-mouthed kiss. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re tired and groggy as he reaches out to cup your cheek, the other hand resting on your hip. You smile against his lips as his fingertips dip beneath the material of your shirt, rubbing light circles to your flesh as you sit up eagerly and press back in. His kisses feel like droplets of fire, setting off small chain reactions with each press of his lips to yours.
When you pull back to admire him, the chain around your neck goes swinging. Your eyes widen as you hear the thump of heavy metal colliding with Tom’s chin, followed by his soft grunt.
“Oh,” you exclaim, immediately feeling your face fall. “I’m sorry, baby. I always forget about the ring on the end.” You bend over to kiss his chin, then sit up straighter, hands absently travelling along the chain. The metal feels familiar beneath your fingertips, and you sigh softly. “I haven’t taken it off since you left,” you admit. “It was nice feeling connected to you, and the ring you left—”
The words die in the back of your throat when you reach for the ring and feel two instead of one, looped side by side on the chain. Confusion twitches across your face as you look down and inspect the piece of jewelry.
Tom’s ring is still on the chain, silver and bold, but sitting beside it is a dantier ring, the band thinner. It lacks the brash family crest that Tom’s harbours so proudly, and has a diamond as its centrepiece. Your fingers go to it immediately, and you find yourself trembling as you pull it closer to your face, inspecting the perfect cut of the sparkling diamond. It’s a large jewel, but it isn’t too flashy, and the ornate twisting of the band is beautiful.
You look back to Tom, who’s watching you with his lower lip pulled between his teeth. Nerves shadow every one of his features, and it’s such a rare look on him that it takes you off guard.
“Angel,” he says slowly, reaching out to take one of your hands. “I love you. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together… I want to grow old with you by my side, and wake up to you each morning. I want to watch our kids muck around in the back garden, and I know… I know I’m not supposed to want these things. I don’t deserve them, and I’m being incredibly selfish even having you here with me right now, but I love you, and nothing will ever change that.” Tom squeezes your hand. “You’re the only woman in the world that I’d ever be able to love like this, and it would be the greatest honour of my life if you married me.”
You’re quiet for a few moments, processing his words. Entranced, you shake off his hand and reach up, tugging off the chain that hangs so heavily from your neck. You unpick the clasp and the necklace falls open, depositing both of the rings into the palm of your hand. They sit there, side by side, and you feel a tear skate down your cheek.
“Tom,” you say, voice thick with tears. “I’d love to marry you.”
The rings press into your palm as he hurries up to kiss you, smiling against yours lips. Tom’s nose nuzzles against yours, and when he pulls back, you see his eyes are red too.
“Thank fuck,” he murmurs. “I was so worried for a second that you were going to say no.”
Your laugh is light and vibrant, and you hold out your hand for Tom to pick up the engagement ring. As he slides the engagement band up your finger, you take his ring, chunky and heavy, and tenderly press it up his finger, joining it with his fourth finger instead of his index. You bend over to kiss the rise of his knuckles, then pull back as you feel him do the same to yours. Through blurry eyes, you bring your hand towards you and admire the gem as it sparkles there.
“In what world would I ever say no to this?” you muse, after a few moments. “I want to be with you forever, Tom. You know that.” Tom’s still looking at his ring, at where it joins at his knuckle, but he glances up when you drift nearer. “I came off birth control.”
His eyes darken slightly. “I know.”
You hold his face in his hands. “You’re silly,” you say. You peck his cheek. “I need to brush my teeth,” you decide. You know exactly where this is going, and you want it to be perfect.
Tom pouts, but he helps you up from his lap. He watches you walk across the room, and his gaze stays on you as you keep the door to the en-suite open and start to brush your teeth. “Miss you, darling,” he calls out. You roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little faster. “You look ethereal.”
When you’re finished in the bathroom, you hurry back to bed. You find your way back into Tom’s lap, sinking into him to share a fresh kiss. “Tell me more about what you want with me,” you continue, voice darker.
With a determined smirk on his lips, Tom flips you. You release a huff of air as you find yourself laying on the mattress, head on the pillow, with him suspended above you. He plants a forearm on either side of your head and gazes down at you fondly.
“I want to settle down with you,” he says slowly. “Maybe start to divide my assets, give a little bit more power to Haz. I want to focus on you.” He pecks your lips before continuing. “I want to watch your gallery grow into the most successful place in London, and I want to be by your side at every opening. I want a big white wedding, with the cake, and the confetti, and the best honeymoon that’s ever been had. I am going to spoil you rotten.”
“You already do a very good job of that.”
“I’ll kick it up a level. I’ll have to. You’ll be my wife.” Tom’s face darkens. His hand shifts down to rest over your lower stomach. “We’ll need to wait for a lot of those things to happen, but there’s one thing that I want that we can start working on right now.”
Your mouth goes dry, and you feel the space between your legs throb. You tilt your head to the side as you stare up at his handsome face. “And what would that be?”
“Our heirs, darling.” He smirks when you whimper, warm fingers dipping beneath your shirt until he’s able to touch the flesh of your belly more directly. “I’m gonna fill you up with my babies, angel. Fuck you really good. ‘M gonna keep cumming until you’re full of me, then fuck you full again.”
You moan as he drops his face to your ear, suckling hard marks against your skin. “Fuck,” you murmur, burying your hands in his hair. “That sounds so obscene.”
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you? You’re my dirty little thing, hm?” Tom bites at your neck, teeth nipping you and making you shiver. “I know you want me to cum in you so much that it drips down your thighs for hours after I’m gone. You want me to make a mess of your pretty cunt.”
“Please, Tom,” you whimper. You feel hot and bothered already.
“Eager, darling?” Tom sits back and gently reaches for the hem of your pyjama top. You bring your hands above your head as he gently tugs it up your arms, throwing it off to the side without thought. He crawls back over you and seizes your breasts in his hands, his metallic ring like a cool shock against your skin. When he nibbles at your nipple and follows up the action with a lap of his tongue, you whimper.
“Don’t be a tease,” you beg, squeezing your thighs together. “I need you, Tom. Haven’t been with you in so long.”
He looks up at you, tit held between his lips. Tom winks as he gives the bud a noisy suck, then pulls back to address the other. He keeps his thumbs busy, and as he moves away his mouth, he replaces his touch with the pad of his fingers, swirling his spit around your skin with ease.
“There’s no rush,” he announces. He keeps his hands on your breasts, kneading softly and stimulating your nipples as he knows you like, but his mouth starts to move. Tom trails light kisses down your form, keeping his eyes on yours. He observes you through darkened eyes. “Don’t whinge,” he adds, the tips of his teeth sparkling ravenously. “I’m going to fuck you so well you’ll cry, but not yet. Let me enjoy this.”
His promise makes you squirm, and Tom takes advantage of the fact your hips are off the bed and tugs your shorts and panties down your legs in one fell swoop. As you part your legs, you invite him closer, biting back a frown as Tom settles between your thighs but pays your legs attention instead of your centre. Your folds are slick already—you can feel them wet, hot, pulsing with more urgency the longer you spend watching your boyfriend’s muscles flex as he draws his lips across your figure.
Tom teases you, drawing out the moment until you’re quivering. His lips draw down to your shins, his whole body sliding down the bed until he’s just out of reach. You lean back against the pillow and try to enjoy it, revelling in the warmth that he dusts across your bare skin with each small kiss. Tom traces love hearts up your legs with his fingertips, drawing large ones over each one of your knees before tracing over the outline with his tongue. As his spittle cools over your skin, Tom finally parts your thighs.
“Such a pretty sight,” he moans, taking a moment to admire your glistening cunt. You think he’s going to dive straight in, but then he smirks, and you know that was just wishful thinking. Instead, Tom nuzzles his nose against the soft flesh of your inner thigh and goes back to kissing.
He’s needier now, moving with fervour. Sucking harshly, you know he’s marking your inner thighs, drawing an arrow towards your centre with a line of bruises. He delineates his journey, marking out the precise route he needs to take up to your sweet lips as if leaving instructions.
“Tom, please,” you moan. He’s so close to you that you can feel his hot breath coming out across you. He looks up at you and throws out a wild grin, his eyes bright and his smirk as bold as ever. “Please stop teasing me.”
He hums softly. “Okay, my darling,” Tom murmurs. You release a deep sigh of relief. “But only because I can’t go another second without tasting my pussy…” His thumbs gently move along your petals, light with his touch and teasing you until your cunt clenches around nothing. “You don’t mind if I’m a little rough, do you, angel?” He blinks up at you innocently. “I tend to get a little bit lost in you, but you know that by now, don’t you?”
“It’s okay,” you say. “Give me anything… ‘m aching for you.”
Tom’s devilish smirk makes you wonder if giving him complete control was a good idea, but the thought goes flying from your mind as he nuzzles his face closer and finally indulges himself. Moaning loudly as he tastes you, his lips gradually envelop your clit, hot tongue lightly glancing off the engorged rise of the bud as you cry out. He’s wet with you, letting his tongue make your slit all messy.
Tom brings two slender fingers to your lips and parts them in a V. His nose brushes up against your clit as he slowly moves down. As the thick muscle of his tongue presses against your dewy entrance, he emits a low-pitched moan.
“God, darling,” he purrs. “Tastes even sweeter than usual.” As the vibrations of his words thrum over your cunt, you shiver and grab at his hair. One of Tom’s hands grabs at your inner thigh, pushing it up and opening you wider until he’s able to move deeper. You gasp as both of his thumbs shift down to hold your lips apart, tender petals parting easily.
As Tom slides his tongue into you, your eyes roll back in your head. You squirm against the sheets as wetness drips between your cheeks, a mix of your heat and his spit as Tom devours you. He moans against you, dragging his tongue against your tender walls. The sensations of his smooth muscle twisting against your sensitive pussy makes you shiver, and when he adds a thumb to your clit, you cry out loudly.
“Tom, oh fuck.”
He traces around your bud with a light finger, teasing the edge of the bud with his fingernail. Impatient and needy, you rut down against him, a choked sob bubbling up in the back of your throat. Your chest is heaving, your nipples perked and erect, and your fingers shake as you hold him to your heat. Tom seems to go deeper with each thrust of his tongue, moaning as he makes you messy, leaving no part of you untouched.
You call out a quiet warning, blind with lust and on the verge of tears. “‘M gonna cum,” you mewl. “Feels too good.”
He hums aggressively against you and dives deeper with his tongue, touching your clit until you peak. The feeling of your walls clenching and contracting against his face makes you whine, rutting down against him as you ride it out. Tom takes it, stays pliant as you grind onto his tongue, continuing to stimulate your passage until your back arches from the bed and you break into a hot sweat. When Tom pulls back, he’s quick to replace his tongue with two fingers, and the moan you release is garbled and excessive.
“T-Tom,” you cry out. He curls his index and middle finger into you with ease, his fourth dropping down to rest between your cheeks. You can feel the metal of his heavy silver ring, cool against your skin. “S’too much.”
He finally looks up at you after an eternity admiring your heat. His eyes are wide and feral, his chin coated in your juices. You whimper as you see streaks of white cum clinging to the early morning shadow of his chin. Tom grins inquisitively as he thrusts his fingers faster, your heat so slick and open that the movement draws out loud noises.
“I don’t think it’s too much, darling,” he mumbles. “I think you’re being my good girl, hm? We’ve barely started.” He drops his lips and nuzzles further between your legs, looking up at you with your clit held loosely in his mouth. He gently laps across the rise before releasing it and pressing a light kiss to the engorged bud. “I’m going to make you cum so much you forget your name, lovie. Gonna show you how much I appreciate you today and for every other day of our lives.”
You like the sound of that, and your cunt throbs persistently as Tom curves his fingers up and his fingertips brush against your ridged g-spot. As your hips threaten to spasm from the bed again, Tom sits up and shifts his arm, so it weighs down your lower stomach. “More,” you decide, hearing your heat prickle as Tom speeds up his fingers.
He adds his ring finger, and you cry out as the smooth band of metal presses up against your entrance. The contrast of cold against the ravaging fire of your hole is almost orgasmic in itself.
“Pretty little pussy,” he muses. “Need to stretch you out for my cock, da’ling. Haven’t taken me in so long, I don’t want to hurt you when I stuff you full.”
You’re so wet. You can feel the flat of Tom’s hand coated in your arousal, hear your heat as he fucks you. You try to pay attention to him, but you find yourself slipping when he drops his lips back to your bud and starts to suck on it. As Tom traces incessant circles over your clit, he alternates between long laps of his tongue and more focused kitten licks. Your desperate fingers curl around the silky sheets as you recognise that he knows your cunt well, and he’s learnt the right angle and depth that he needs to travel to in order to get you to the edge. He’s persistent and ruthless in the pursuit of his objective.
You peak for the second time as he curls his fingertips up against your tender g-spot, moaning around your clit under you’re crying out. Your eyes burn with tears as you call out his name, voice clouded by curse words and desperate sounds of enjoyment. You’re loud, thrashing in the sheets until he has to reach up and press you into place, not moving as he continues to stimulate you through it. It feels unending—an eternal tunnel of throbbing pleasure, your cunt squeezing his digits until it’s almost too much.
When you grow too sensitive, you tell him as much, and Tom pulls back to reach blindly for your hand. He finds it, then separates from your mound. His fingers slowly slip from your aching cunt, causing you to gasp, but he softens it out by kissing over the knuckles of your other hand, then your lower stomach.
“Perfect, angel,” he coos. Tom pushes your legs shut again, being careful not to hurt you as he crawls on top of you. He squeezes your hand as he continues to kiss all over your stomach, hips and chest, retracing his tracks from earlier until he finds your nipples. You moan as he laps at both of them messily before moving up to your face and kissing you intensely. His tongue tastes of your juices, your arousal sticking to his tongue. The tangy hue sticks to your own mouth, and you moan as you taste it.
“God, I love kissing you,” he murmurs against you, voice rumbling into you. Tom gasps your face with his clean hand, holding you tightly. “Could do this for the rest of my life.”
You’re hungry as you chase him, body tired but craving more. As Tom starts to roll his hips against yours, the press of his length to your centre makes you excited.
“I can taste myself on your tongue,” you admit. The blend of you and him makes you feel ravenous.
“Really?” Tom sits up, his face flickering with enjoyment as you start to grind up against his hips. He circles his waist against yours, both of you enjoying the little pleasure until you find the capacity to nod. “You’re nice, aren’t you?”
You lick your lips, watching the way he stares at you. “Yeah,” you say. “Tastes of you, too.”
Tom reaches up, and with the hand still covered in your juices, he feeds three fingers into your mouth. You moan around them as he imitates thrusting motions, smearing your cum over your tongue. There’s a metallic twang as he pushes deeper, his ring brushing up against the tip of your tongue as he fucks towards your throat. The taste makes you shiver.
“There you go, clean me up,” he coaxes. He presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose before hovering above you. Tom’s eyes, dark and hungry, shift down to your lips, and he raises a brow. “Such a pretty mouth. Wish I had time to fuck it, too, but shit… I need to be in you, darling.”
When he pulls his fingers from your mouth, you feel empty. Your tongue is light—too light. A pout settles over your lips.
“Why are you frowning?” Tom adds as he sits back on his shins. You sit up a little straighter, strength regained as you watch him move around and shed his boxers. You almost moan as you watch his cock spring free, tall and flushed red. You’ve missed it. You’ve missed him.
“Feel empty without you,” you respond.
Tom slides over you again, and you part your legs. With ease, he slots himself between your thighs, his throbbing crown resting against your clit as your wet lips envelop the rest of his member.
“Well, you’re going to be very full soon,” he murmurs, looking up to kiss your jaw. He waits above your lips, quirking a brow. “Open, then, if you’re so needy.”
Your teeth catch your gnawed lower lip before you follow instruction, opening your mouth for him. Tom presses one of his hands against your shoulder as he leans up. He rests a thumb to your chin and looks down at you, eyes glimmering with mischievousness as he puckers his lips and hums. A moment later, Tom spits into your mouth, his dirty spittle falling onto your tongue. He groans at the sight, and you reach up to grab at his broad shoulders as the heat of the possessiveness rolls over you. Tom chases his action with a deep kiss, his fingers rolling back down to pull up your thigh and open you for him.
As he enters you, it’s a smooth movement. Everything flows together—your tongues, your bodies, your hearts. Tom’s able to guide himself inside you almost seamlessly, and you’re so aroused already that the stretch is comfortable.
“Fuck,” you gasp, falling back from his lips.
“Oh, god,” Tom groans. “That’s it. Fuck yeah.” He kisses you again as he slowly pulls out, sliding back into you with ease. His lips are hot as they rest on yours, unmoving as he gets lost in the pleasure.
“You’re so big,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he continues to thrust into you. Tom’s building it up slowly, rutting deeply against your heat as his member explores your walls. It’s a little clumsy before he establishes a rhythm, his groove coming back after a few weeks apart, but when he gets it right, it feels otherworldly.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says, dropping his face against your shoulder. You bury your hands in his hair, fingers tensing around his strands when he bites at your skin. “Love of my life,” he coos. “Love this pussy more than life itself. Love you more than anything.”
Overwhelmed, you hum, the sound twisting into a gasp as he grinds against you and the crown of his flushed length hits your sensitive spot. “God, yeah,” you agree. “Feels so good, Tom. Go deeper.”
He obliges you for a few moments before his rhythm fades, and he stills with his cock stuffed deep within you. Your fingers play with his hair as you feel him kiss your shoulder, then follow up the action with a lap of his tongue.
“I want you on top, darling,” Tom grunts, words smearing against your neck. He’s panting, hot breath making your skin wet. “Need to see my beautiful wife.” You clench around him, and you feel him chuckle into your shoulder. “C’mere,” he coaxes. “I’ll help you up.”
It’s dizzying to readjust, but as soon as you’ve taken your place in Tom’s lap, you feel better. You’re impossibly close, able to watch his face constrict with pleasure every time you lower yourself on him. He’s got his head thrown back against the headboard, half-closed eyes watching you, ringed-fingers digging into your hips.
“Tom,” you whimper. “Feels so good.” Your eyes are rolling back, your body trembling as he helps you move. With each bounce down, Tom ruts his hips up to meet you, and when you shift slightly to the side and lean forward, his tip brushes up against your spot. Arcs of electricity zing through your centre, adding layers to your enjoyment.
“The way that you look right now should be breaking the law,” he says, voice held tight. Tom grabs one of your tits in his palm, roughened thumb toying with the nipple until you squirm. “You’re stunning, angel. All mine…” he drops down to kiss at the base of your neck. “Mine forever.”
“Y-Yeah, ‘m yours,” you stammer, voice hitching as his index finger trails back down to your bud. It knocks you off balance how quickly your third high threatens to surge across you.
Tom sees it on your face, growls as he feels you clench around him. “Come on, darling. Give me another one.” His greedy fingers continue to move your hips as the others play around with your clit. The bud tingles, stimulated beyond anything you’ve felt before, but the ache makes it better. “Always the prettiest when you cum, angel. Make the prettiest sounds too. Go on, my love. Let me hear you sing for me.”
It takes a few moments for you to peak, and when you do, you go loose in Tom’s arms. It ripples over you like a blur, your limbs feeling equal parts boneless and taut. Everything fades, pulled back to the bare primal motions of orgasm, warmth spreading through your entire body until it consumes you.
No sooner have you finished your release does Tom scoop you up in his arms and press you back against the mattress. He continues to drill into you, moving roughly against you, grinding his hips into you. Both of you are sweaty, and the space between your legs is sticky from all the aroused fluids that you’ve released, but he doesn’t care. He buries himself in your heat, losing himself in the feelings as you claw at his back, unable to comprehend the pleasures of overstimulation on a scale as intense as this.
“You’re okay, yeah?” Tom says, pulling away from your neck to stare at you. You’re slack-jawed and panting, but you nod. He likes to push you, and you like being stretched to your limits, but he never does it cruelly. He’s always attentive as he picks you apart, slowly breaking you open until you’re shattered into pieces that only he can reassemble. There’s love behind everything he does with you.
“Yeah,” you manage, voice broken. Hot tears of enjoyment pool in your eyes, a muffled groan leaving you when Tom reaches for your thigh and tugs it open roughly. You curl your leg around his back, allowing him in completely, and as you gain that familiar friction back against your g-spot, you melt against the sheets.
“You know what I’m going to do, angel?” Tom grunts. He’s heavy on top of you, body a blur as he fucks you harder, faster, deeper. “I’m going to get your initials tattooed on my ring finger, so you’re there even without the ring.” He stares down at your face, love swirling in his frenzied eyes. “I’m going to—fuck, I’m gonna fuck you so good for the rest of your life, darling. I promise you that. Yeah.” He nuzzles at your cheek, hot breath panting across your skin as he drops his voice to a gritty whisper. “I’m gonna love you, cherish you, fucking adore you… Gonna put a baby in you.”
“Holy shit,” you mutter.
Tom slows his thrusts, his hips stammering in a way suggestive of the way he’s near a peak and wants to put it off. With an intensity that you’ve never seen before, he reaches down, balancing on his strong arms until he’s able to rest his hot palm against your lower stomach. He presses against your skin as he thrusts into you a few more times, slowing but burying himself deeper.
“Can you feel me?” he says. “I’m in so deep, darling. I can feel everything. Such a wet pussy. So greedy.”
“Yeah,” you whimper. “You’re so big, T. I can’t think about anything else.”
“Mmm, good, ‘cos you’re the only thing I’m thinking about right now.” He dances his fingers across the soft skin of your stomach, contrasting the gentleness as he drops his head to the crook of your neck and nips at your skin. “Can’t wait to fill you up,” he admits roughly. “Thought about it every night I was away.”
“Yeah?” You brush your hands through his sweaty hair, tugging as he drives a little deeper.
“Fuck yeah, baby. Go on, touch your clit.” Tom waits until you’ve done as instructed to continue with his musings. “Thought about how you’ll look, belly all swollen with my cum. I love those pretty whimpers you make when I pull out, and my seed pours down your thighs. Can’t wait to fuck it back into you until you’re crying.”
“—oh god,” you whine.
“Mm, yeah. I felt you clench then, darling. I know how much you like the idea of taking fuckin’ everything I give you.” Tom presses firmer against your lower stomach, accompanying the action with a particularly hard rut. “You’re gonna feel me here, lovie, right in your womb. Gonna stuff you to the fucking brim until there’s no chance you aren’t pregnant. Gonna fill you with my babies, give us the heirs we both deserve.”
“Please,” you beg, voice broken. It’s overwhelming in the best way, your bud rebelling as you toy with it. But you’re persistent, matching the deep rolls of Tom’s hips as you feel another climax stir in the pit of your stomach. Everything feels so fluid and wet that it’s hard to tell where you stop, and Tom begins. He’s tangled up so completely in you that he has become part of your existence. “Please, Tom, I want it.”
“What do you want?” Tom teases. He’s a devil, looks up to smirk at you. You can feel how badly he wants to snap into release just from the way he’s controlling his thrusts, but he isn’t going to cave until he gets exactly what he wants. “Use your words, gorgeous girl. I know you can do it.”
He’s in so close, lips on your cheeks, chin, nose, and lips. His heat envelopes you, clouding your brain. With each nudge of his tip deeper against your walls, you get closer to losing it, clinging to the firm muscles of his back like it’s your only lifeline.
“Give me it all,” you choke out. “I want it, Tom, deep in me. Want you to fill me up with your cum.” His curls are sweaty as you reach up to fist your trembling hands in them, entirely at his mercy. “Wanna feel you lose yourself in me.”
“Mmm, okay, baby,” he groans. His voice is broken, thick and tired from exertion. He kisses you roughly, all tongue and teeth, the noisy meshing sounds of your lips mingling with the chaos of his hips slapping down against yours. “Oh fuck,” he pulls away to say. “Oh fuck. Oh—”
With a heavy grunt, Tom finally spills. He releases a loud groan, hips snapping forwards with an animalistic force as he drives his cock deeper, shaft pulsing as your walls squeeze around him. You cry out, cumming for the fourth time. Your climax feels like the main attraction, as if every other orgasm has merely been part of the buildup. You push up against him, breasts pressing into Tom’s chest as your eyes screw shut, tears cascading down your cheeks as pleasure burns through you. His name pours past your lips like a prayer until it’s all that you know, all that you care to know.
It ends, and you’re trembling. Intense aftershocks rock through you, and you feel Tom kiss all over your cheeks as he coos soft words of endearment into your ear. His lips become wet, and you realise that blissful tears have skated down your face.
“Lovely girl... Best girl…” He’s gentle, tender. You jump, opening your eyes suddenly as Tom slips from you, causing your aching walls to spasm. He looks up at you, lifting a questioning brow as he reaches down towards your clit. “Finished?” he asks. When his fingertips lightly make contact with your bud, you wince. Everywhere aches, and it’s nice, but it’s enough.
“Definitely finished,” you choke out.
“Okay, okay… sorry, love.” Tom gently pulls back, flashing you an apologetic smile as he kisses your inner thigh. He shuffles around, eyeing the sight of his cum leaking from your hole, and you watch him shudder. “Fuck….” You can feel it slowly dripping from your entrance and clench your walls just to see his reaction. Tom groans, chewing his lips and continuing to stare until you shiver. He smoothes a hand over your thigh. “Sweet thing,” he whispers. “I’ll bring you some water.”
It only feels like he’s gone for a second, and you realise you’re drifting, ecstatic and loose-limbed. Tom is suddenly behind you, delicately hauling you into his arms. He sits against the headboard and pulls you into a tight hug from behind, kissing over your shoulders as you whimper softly. You can feel the soft fabric of his sweats as he settles you in his lap.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. He presses a glass of water into your hand and helps you take a sip. As the cool liquid soothes your throat, you relax into his hold. “Love you, love you… Love you so much.”
He’s so warm against you, holding you tight. Your eyes still feel wet.
“Love you too,” you say. Tom takes the glass from your hand and puts it down on the bedside table, and you turn in his arms to kiss him. Your lips feel puffy and sore, but the ache is worth the relief of feeling your fiancé’s mouth gently press to yours. You sigh as the tension leaves your shoulders, draining away as he loves you, and holds you.
“Am gonna clean you up, now,” Tom mumbles, voice soft. You look at him, curious until you feel a warm cloth pressing against your thighs. You part your legs, turning back in his arms and snuggling further into his grasp as he delicately runs the material over your centre. “Sorry, darling,” he says as you wince. He’s so gentle, but it still aches in a way that hurts.
“What time is it?” you ask, mind running slow.
Tom throws the cloth aside, then reaches out and grabs one of the thick furs that sits on top of your bed. “3pm.”
Your eyes widen. “What?” you murmur, brows creasing. “What time did we wake up?”
“Around midday.”
“Wow.” You smile softly as Tom tucks you both in, covering your shivering form with the blanket. You reach up, leaving your left arm above the fur and reaching out to take Tom’s hand. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
He laughs and tangles your hands together. Tom’s palm is warm against yours, and his other hand curves around to fiddle with your new ring.
“Indeed it does, darling,” he coos. “I had a lot of fun. Did you?”
“Always.”
You watch him play with your ring for a while, his lips moving over your sweaty neck. You’re still hot and exhausted, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He holds you tight all the same, not caring that you’re messy and still quivering from the aftershocks. Soft sentences of adoration pour from his lips as he holds you.
“After this,” Tom says, voice slow, “I thought we could have a nice bath… maybe drink some champagne, have some dinner… then I want to hear everything you’ve been up to for the last month, and maybe we can celebrate some more.”
You nod softly. Turning in his arms, you sit up to face him properly, dragging the large blanket with you and draping it over you both as you straddle his lap and rest your arms over his shoulders. The bruising is still on Tom’s face, but he looks more handsome than you’ve ever seen him before. There’s a golden glow to his face, a certain lightness that you’ve never seen before. You reach down and take his hand, bringing it to your lips and ghosting your mouth over his ring.
“I love you so much,” you say, looking up at him from behind his hand. His smile is like the sunrise. “Thank you for everything you do for me.”
“Oh, darling.” Tom pauses to kiss you, smiling against your lips. “Don’t you know the pleasure is all mine?”
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ��*:･ﾟ✧
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
will i burn for this ? perhaps. but it’s worth it. thank u to my lord and saviour mr mob!tsh... i love u.
lmk what you think......? +++ if you want to see any more specific scenes from my mob!tom x reader universe?? any other milestones you’d like to see? lmk! <3
mlist + taglist are through the link in my bio <3
thank you for reading!! <3<3
#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader smut#mob!tom smut#mob!tom#mob!tom holland smut#mob!tomfic#smut
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Aaaaaa…
… Things that get me about Encanto is, well, for one, family relationships, I love those, but…
Again, it’s not necessary to his actions, but I love the idea of idea of Bruno, who seems very effected by his mother’s stern affect and very anxious (I identify w/ this man so much, I’m also a little childish and hide away in a room and apologise a lot) but makes very difficult decisions twice for Mirabel’s sake, the first time ostracising himself from the family he adored even if he had difficulty expressing himself and the second time to not just come out of hiding but to face his mother… Just him doing this while thinking of this little girl who would maybe try to crawl into his lap all the time, or loved the fact their hair curled in a similar way, or would reach for him and cry if he put her down, this innocent little child who’s not afraid or apprehensive of him in anyway, and being like—no, not letting her go through what’s gonna happen if I tell my mother, I’d rather ghost myself then let her be hurt like that. I love that so much.
Bc I feel the need to disclaim, I absolutely know he’d do that for any member of the family bc he is Best Tío of the year, but esp given the connection they share in the film, I love the idea of that having started when she was young. Also w/ my theories (yes I know I’m not the first, just goes to show how much sense it makes), also makes me love the thought of, despite their troubles, him having a particular relationship w/ his mother, too. Makes sense given their kinda ‘roles’ in the family, too, the ‘guardian of the magic/candle/house’ seeking counsel of the one who can see the future… I’m very tired bc also I got my booster today so I can’t really order my thoughts to explain but. Bruno looks into the future, despite the discomfort and stigma he must have had about it even by that point, bc Abuela asks him to, and she asks him to for/bc of Mirabel. Immediately after, he destroys the vision and “leaves” for Mirabel’s sake. While the film leaves no doubt that he loves his whole family and they love him and each other w/ their whole hearts, this feels poetic to me.
Also I love Pepa’s side of the family. Like I’d love to see an adventure where Camillo gets to come, esp bc he and Mirabel are the same age, which… I dunno, I’d like to see them interacting a little more. I’d like to see the team they’d make. He feels like he’s got a lot of potential—like he was very much not just the ‘bratty prankster’ even though he ultimately didn’t do much.
And another thing that proper gets me is that moment Mirabel has in Don’t Talk About Bruno where she pauses outside of Luisa’s flickering door and then sees hers sister struggling w/ a cactus… The look on her face really hit me. I’m a younger sister, and I’m really close to my big sister and that moment just… Spoke to me. Like kudos to the animators. It felt like seeing Luisa so upset and suffering encouraged her to go reassemble the vision and… Like I said, I felt that. I’ve talked about having self esteem issues regarding sibs about something else, but never doubt, my sister is one if my favourite people in the world. It was one of those small moments that just really shows you how much Mirabel loves her family? Like yes, her relationship w/ Isabella is awkward and complex, but under that she does love her, and meanwhile… Her relationship w/ Luisa doesn’t seem to be burdened in the same way. Luisa doesn’t want to talk about her own insecurities at first, yes, but she’s clearly very protective and affectionate of Mirabel. Maybe feels like she’s extra gotta look out for her ungifted baby sister. And for Mirabel, seeing Luisa unhappy is enough to dispel her apprehension about the vision long enough to put it together. It’s a small moment, but it meant a lot to me, as a younger sibling who has sat w/ my sister while she cried over stuff, or vice versa.
I just love this family so much.
#Firebird Randomness#Encanto#Encanto Spoilers#I cried#I don't cry during movies#… okay maybe it was the booster shot but listen#I love family#Things You Didn't Know Fire Was Into
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I am stuck thinking about that Lasombra lacroix. Is he still a Camarilla prince in this, or just some random sabbat? Feel free to go off on more tangents and stuff, I love your ideas.
THANK YOUUUU!!! Really having fun with these clan ideas lmao, happy to know people are enjoying them too 😭❤
more below because this Did become a tangent, my brain is a hive full of bees and they all need to be heard <3
okay, okay, did some research on Lasombra again to refresh my memory on them
- So in all the aus I've made/will make where LaCroix isn't the Prince, Vannevar Thomas from LA by Night takes his place. And in this one, Lasombra LaCroix is currently working under Andrei as he'd affiliated with the Sabbat. So in a way he's a random Sabbat lmao. Despises Vannevar out of principle
- I think he'd still be very much obsessed with the sarcophagus, probably even more so than canon, because he feels it's his last chance at proving himself to his sire: the sarcophagus is believed to be a portent of Gehenna, and Andrei's people are trying to stop it. Imagine the respect Sebastian would get, if he was the driving force in acquiring the sarcophagus and winning LA for the Sabbat
- Andrei tolerates him because he knows LaCroix’s sire and respects them. LaCroix, not so much. He sees him as a pathetic child trying too hard to be something he isn’t. Andrei vaguely hopes the childe will be killed by his dealings to get the sarcophagus so that the sire can focus on a better candidate for their legacy.
- So LaCroix's connection and grasp of Oblivion is very shaky, because despite all his training and his own determination to succeed, he's never truly recovered from Waterloo, and I hc that LaCroix has a mental disorder like bipolar disorder or a personality disorder like BPD that makes emotional regulation just. incredibly difficult. Especially if he doesn't know why he feels the way he does, and why other people just don't seem to experience the same thing. And it doesn't help that the growing stress of being a failure in his sire's eyes is always there, nowadays.
- So, if we were thinking about this in game mechanics, he'd have maybe 1 or 2 dots in Oblivion, while having 4+ dots in Potence and Dominate, with better skill variety in those disciplines.
- And Sebastian was sort of set up to fail: the first decades of his life were probably spent being told he was going to do well, he was going to be the perfect successor to his sire's legacy. And he was encouraged for each advancement he made. But then the rug got pulled out from under him when his sire's quiet pride became bitterness and anger towards him, because he couldn't master Oblivion and his moods were erratic. It's just something you can't do: hyping someone up and then suddenly changing your demeanour towards them for the worse, esp if you're in a position of power over them. It just tells them that your friendship and regard are conditional, and those conditions just aren't something Sebastian can meet, especially since his desperation and stress only makes his mood swings worse.
- But I do think some aspects of Oblivion bring him comfort: like Shadow Cloak acting as a sort of 'escape' from other people's prying eyes. Lasombra seek power, and Sebastian finds his own kind of power in controlling how/if people can see him.
- Following his failings, Sebastian is still a terrifying figure in LA: his Potence is only stronger when he channels his anger through it, and his Dominate is more subtle than the Ventrue know it as. Thing is, he was groomed to be someone in power, a ruthless political leader meant as the king piece on a chess board. The one that sat in the tower and waited for their underlings to manage the empire. But he’s just. Not suited for that. He’s better as the saboteur, the spy, the watcher. His low self-esteem, hidden by a smokescreen of arrogance etc, is a result of his upbringing, so who knows if Lasombra LaCroix will ever find his niche
- I think Ming Xiao would probably see that in him, she’s an intelligent leader and considered just about every option and outcome when the Lasombra offered an alliance between the Kuei-jin and Sabbat. Under Andrei’s nose, of course.
that’s all i have right now, but thank you for asking, and thank you for reading! not too sure how comprehensible this is, just got off work lmao
shadowy boi, many issues, bless
#sebastian lacroix#lacroix vtm#vtm#vtmb#lasombra#vampire the masquerade#vampire the masquerade bloodlines#long post#ask#anon#vtmbposting
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SAW ask time 💚 wld love to hear abt chainshipping + Adam bein autistic— maybe like what Lar notices abt Adam’s stims, things he does for him/ways he helps when Adam needs it. Also for Eric/Adam, maybe any thoughts on Eric finally like.. realizing he’s got a special interest?? ik we’ve talked abt how hard he masks but bein around Adam (n Mallick) helps him relax abt that, so like maybe how does he react + what is th special interest? anything u wanna dish abt!
thank u it’s always SAW ask time in my heart <33
!!! I was just thinkin abt tht!!! our minds 💫
I think th first time he rly sees Adam stimming (i.e. flapping his hands) he’d be like “what’s that?” but not in a rude way - genuinely a tone of “I want 2 know more abt this thing, pls tell me” rather than anything anywhere near condescending/annoyed/mean-spirited like Adam has dealt w fr YEARS at this point. so he’s definitely put on edge a lil bit bc he can’t help it, maybe he starts to like wind down and force himself into quiet hands, but Lawrence is immediately like “no I wasn’t making fun of you!! u don’t have to stop doing it!” which kinda stops Adam short like. what r we doing here. usually when ppl ask me tht they’re also telling me 2 stop. finally Lawrence says “I was just wondering what kind of stim tht was,” like he didn’t almost (accidentally) uproot Adam’s whole shit + is currently Doing So Now by using actual terms tht Adam didn’t know he knew, n so he like takes a moment to absorb tht comment n then he’s like. “oh. it means I’m happy or excited?” and honestly? when Lawrence hears tht? he’s like “oh... so then you’re rly happy? 🥺” n it’s just like. a moment fr both of them lol. (Adam feels Much safer discussing things after tht too, in several ways. it definitely helps w building trust between them!!)
after that though Lawrence definitely takes notice of more things! he’s not afraid 2 ask questions, so tht’s smth tht’s rly good fr them - Lawrence being able to seek information (he also does his own reading + research) to better understand, n not in tht shitty mommy blogger “I know yr in there somewhere” way. he doesn’t want 2 change Adam. he wants a better grasp on wht Adam’s experiences r like so he can help n minimize stress abt certain things. fr Adam tht’s definitely like.. foreign territory, bc as u’ve mentioned b4 + my personal hc as well, his parents didn’t really care 2 get him formally diagnosed + even acted like there was No Way he cld be neurodivergent in any sense, so 2 have some1 who is interested n respectful is So important 2 him. (personal hc time: I hc Adam as both adhd AND autistic like me so there’s tht!!)
so like he takes notice of th way Adam likes 2 roll things btwn his fingers (shirt sleeves, shirt hems, hoodie drawstrings, blankets, soft fabrics he likes the texture of, etc.) n is just like Oh Idea. I like 2 think he gets Adam one of those bead lanyards (like this one, which I also have!) fr him to fidget w n he kind of presents it like “I thought maybe u wld like smth like this?” n honestly he’s a lil nervous abt what Adam is going 2 say. but Adam takes it n holds it fr a minute, rolling th beads n messing w th lanyard itself 2 kind of test it, n he just looks up n smiles n he’s like “I love this. u’ve been paying tht much attention??” n fr Lawrence it’s just like “yes? of course? bc I love u?” like it’s th simplest thing in th world n Adam’s just. Huh. no he does Not tear up, if Lawrence told u tht he’s lying. he’s just Rly not used 2 ppl who want 2 know more without wanting to “get inside his head” or belittle him fr it (ties into my hc tht fr th most part, Adam hasn’t rly had any Good friends...) so it takes a lil getting used to.
another thing!! Lawrence does is ask 2 listen 2 Adam infodump abt his special interests - esp photography!! like they do this thing where if it’s not too late at night by th time Lawrence comes home frm work, Lawrence will take a quick shower n then get into his pajamas n into bed (just fr some quiet quality time b4 they go to bed, bc he still tends 2 come home a bit late), n he’ll have Adam sit next 2 him n he’ll be like “what do u want to tell me?” bc tht’s another thing tht Adam was entirely unused 2 - having ppl who didn’t just tolerate his infodumping, they wanted to hear it. Lawrence might be th first person to not actually give him shit fr it/tell him he’s being annoying/shut him down completely. again, it takes Adam a lil bit to b fully comfortable w it, but once he is he adores having tht time to be excited abt things w another person! who he knows Wants to listen!! (if we’re going th route I personally like 2 think abt sometimes too, where Lawrence is autistic as well, I feel like they infodump back n forth abt photography n medical stuff. do either of them rly know what the other is saying? not rly. are they listening happily bc that’s their partner n it’s smth they’re excited abt? oh absolutely!)
I think Adam has a tendency to eat a lot of th same foods bc they’re safe n he knows he likes them/doesn’t mind their texture (which is a big issue w trying new foods fr him), which is smth tht Lawrence also takes note of and as such, he likes 2 make sure they’re regularly stocked up on at least some of tht stuff. it’s not even smth he tells Adam he’s doing, bc it’s rly tht simple 2 him - Adam likes these things n therefore we shld have them at th house - but fr Adam it’s just One Of Those Things, y’know?? he got so much shit as a kid fr being such a “picky eater” n got shit fr it as a teenager too bc “why don’t u ever try anything new??” was smth his friends/parents Loved 2 say. it’s th fact tht Lawrence rolls w it so easily, doesn’t poke or prod for reasons he eats th way he does, and doesn’t get upset w him fr it/try 2 force him into things he isn’t comfortable w. it means a lot to him, more than he’ll ever have words 2 say (but he does always kiss Lawrence’s cheek when he gets back frm th store n he sees some of his same foods, which is just as good). it’s loving tht he’s autistic because it’s a part of him, a fact, not despite or in spite of. tht’s what’s so nice n kind of healing abt it; feeling safe 2 express yrself as u are w a partner who u know u can trust. who maybe words questions a bit funny sometimes, completely unintentionally, not out of malice (where allistic Lawrence is concerned, anyway). Adam feels Safe, n tht means a lot 2 him.
as fr ways he helps him!! a big thing is tht Lawrence is observant, esp as they spend more n more time together. a lot of th time, even when it’s just th two of them alone, Adam might have trouble maintaining eye contact fr an extended period of time, n Lawrence might not know how much it Actually helps, but he doesn’t mind tht Adam doesn’t always look at his face when they’re talking. it’s smth tht takes a little getting used 2, but he was never shitty about it w Adam. the way he sees it is if it makes Adam more comfortable, why shld he get upset abt it? it’s not like he doesn’t know when Adam’s talking 2 him anyway, or tht he can’t tell if Adam is listening; Lawrence knows both of those things, so Adam not making eye contact isn’t a problem, y’know? it’s okay. n I rly don’t know if Lawrence is fully aware of how much Adam appreciates tht.
another thing is he’s patient + understanding when Adam is nonverbal, whether it be bc he’s having a shutdown/meltdown, sensory overload, or just plain Difficulty w speech. it kinda depends on what I’m writing at th time, but I feel like Adam might have picked up at least a lil bit of sign language here n there; mostly simple phrases tht get th point across. I like 2 think Lawrence learns what they mean so he can take tht stress off of Adam’s shoulders, but most times, Adam is just comfortable sitting in silence w someone he cares abt.
OH brief thing Lawrence is RLY good at helping w pressure stims. he gives amazing bear hugs n I feel like he’d also probably let Adam lay on him if they’re on th couch/in bed. I just Feel It.
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OHH I think abt Eric finally developing a special interest now tht he feels more comfortable w doing so a lot. honestly I kind of rly like th idea tht his special interest might be info abt rats! it kind of hits him when he catches himself writing down lil facts (tht might not even be related to pet care!) in his notebook so he’ll remember them + always being excited 2 learn more n share what he’s learned. it makes Adam SO happy to see him being comfortable w tht aspect of himself, esp now that he’s safe to explore it w ppl who understand n who won’t discourage him/belittle him for it,, Mallick too of course, but Adam knows how much Eric struggled w tht kind of thing for such a long time so he’s just. Ah. 🥺🥺
like they’ll all b chilling on th couch (Eric, Mallick, n Adam) n Eric will have his head against Adam’s shoulder while his hand is on Mallick’s chest, who has HIS head in Eric’s lap w his legs dangling off th armrest, n he’ll be like “did u know tht when rats r happy, they grind their teeth together? it’s called bruxing n then sometimes their eyes move in their sockets rly fast while they’re doing it. tht’s called boggling.” n Adam will be smiling so wide when he says he didn’t know tht but it’s rly cool!! n then Mallick will start asking questions n he n Adam just listen while Eric infodumps fr probably th very first time since he was very very young, before it was masked out of him by his parents. n he finds tht he Doesn’t feel so bad abt it anymore, not when he’s around ppl who want him to be happy and want to see him be happy - esp ppl who encourage it n let him know it isn’t smth he has to hide/keep locked away. it’s hard 2 b ashamed of himself when Adam n Mallick r looking at him w genuine interest in their eyes n so so much love.
he might still like, slip back into masking behaviour every now n then, bc it’s something he’s still dealing w n learning 2 leave behind, but after he discovers his first special interest it gets a little easier, letting go of that way of life. it was smth he was forced into by adults who didn’t actually want th best for him like they said they did when they put him through “therapy,” but w partners he knows understand n who are even autistic themselves, Eric slowly learns 2 be more comfortable w it. it’s slow, but it’s progress. bit of a learning curve. he’ll get there.
#just if anyones curious yes I am also autistic#I know I mentioned tht in th response itself but U Know!#saw#adam#lawrence#eric#mallick#asks#god I love getting asks frm u u Understand me#tysm!!!! I appreciate it a whole lot things have been sort of rough#oh another note I kind of write adam at least w a lot of my mannerisms/experiences#it's what I know lol
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Could you do a seer of heart/thief of heart? Your analyses are really thought out, and i love the meanings you give to each aspect to genuinely flesh them out more (esp with hope)! Tysm!!
Already gone over the Thief of Heart here - which also links to an older post I wrote on the topic with even more info!
The Seer of Heart is someone who Sees and Leans about Heart, which is Individuality, Emotion, Identity, Passion, Love, Souls, and the sense of Self.
Like other Seers, the Seer of Heart starts off with a Benefactor that teaches them what Heart is. This might just be a very prominent Individual - someone who started a movement, or who understands a fair bit about the various different Identities that exist - or a full on Lover with a little more experience than them in relationships with a good grip on their Emotions.
Through this person, the Seer starts to Learn about Heart as a whole. Bit by bit they gain an understanding of it through their interactions; maybe the person explains different romantic/sexual/gender identities, or maybe they explain different movements like punk and grime.
Maybe they just teach the Seer how to read people, and don’t have a particularly active or intentional role in this. It might just be that the person in question is very reserved, closed off, and doesn’t tend to express - and the Seer makes it their goal to try and understand how this specific person ticks.
Or on the other hand, maybe they’re literally so imbued with Heart - with Love and Emotion and Passion and Individuality - that the Seer is almost accosted by their Aspect on a daily basis. It’d be hard not to Learn how everything works after that.
As their understanding grows, the Seer changes.
They initially come across as very quiet and shy, maybe a little Insecure; they understand things about themselves, but maybe not all of it, and have a big interest in people watching. They like trying to pick apart who a person is and what they’re like just by glimpsing at them, deciphering what might be going through their head at the time in relation to other people.
For instance, seeing a group of three people together, the Seer of Heart will spend a rather long amount of time watching them trying to puzzle out which pair is the couple, or which person has a crush on the other. They’d try to figure out who’s leading the others around - if one is Passionate about the thing they’re doing while the others are not - and what sort of Individual the person is - such as by looking at the he/him patches on one of their bags, or the little sticker of a popular show on one’s jacket, likely forgotten.
They’re not very involved people, and might not even be that popular or have that many friends. They might not even seek anyone out besides their Benefactor (who may even have just latched onto the Seer rather than the other way around), and might be easily overwhelmed by social interactions.
Their inability to initially read people might be what makes it so hard for them; they never know what people are thinking, what they’re like, what they like, what the right choice is to do or say or make - and so they decide to just sit out a bit and watch instead.
Since Seers also struggle with their Aspect - usually because of an initial but mild lack of it - they might struggle to act on Impulse. They might not be honest about their Passions or even See them as Passions, calling them hobbies or just silly little things they do. They might be embarrassed about the things they Love, or of the fact that they’re in Love, and almost definitely don’t know how to handle PDA.
Despite their shy demeanour, they’re probably very Emotional people - they just don’t know when to show those emotions or if they’re reacting to the right things. They might be a little ditzy like that, reacting out of place and then getting very embarrassed by it. They might sometimes wait for someone else to react so they know what the right cue is, or shuffle back a little if their response was going to be different.
They also likely struggle to Define themselves. They know the depths of their Soul and mostly their Identity, but they don’t know how to best represent that. Is a patch good enough? A pride flag? Is that too much? How many pins and stickers should they have on their bad for each of their interests? Would it be weird to have a sticker for gardening? Should they style their hair after an artist they like? Maybe after a band’s style? Should they go for something completely new that’s wholly them?
When they become Realised - after they’ve gone through the Learning process, and once they start to really understand what Heart is - they come out of their shells and are Bold and Defined people.
The Seer opens up a lot more, becomes more delighted by the concept of sharing themselves with the world - their Identity, their Passions, their Loves, all of it. There’s no hiding who they are, or the Unique Personality that belongs to them.
They’re significantly more confident when it comes to people, often allowing themselves to react however they like rather than overthinking if it’s right or wrong, and yet somehow they always seem to do the right thing anyway. They’re the definition of a people person, and it’s very likely that just being themselves draws people in.
They’re much more Emotional now, and don’t tend to hide what they feel. They understand the importance of just getting it all out, and accept that every now and then you need to tuck yourself away and cry it out a little, or let your anger out on something that won’t be hurt by it. They’re likely to encourage others to do this, too; the perfect counselor, but one who knows their own limits and when they have to stop, too.
Of course, this wouldn’t be Heart if we didn’t talk about Shipping. They’re amazing matchmakers, Seeing exactly who will work best together and doing everything they can to make it happen. They can See who won’t work well, too, and can go out of their way to make sure that those Relationships don’t happen.
To become Realised, the Seer just has to act. That’s pretty much it. They need to go out there, full ham, rather than just gently talk to people and encourage them. They need to lead everyone forward with what they can See, and make sure that their visions come true with active work rather than passive explanations.
In other words, instead of just saying “oh, you know, I think they’d be really good with this person” or “you know, I think maybe they’re not getting the whole identity thing” the Seer of Heart has to go out of their way to make those things a reality - maybe by setting up a date or a situation where two people are stuck in one place for a fairly long period of time, or by trying to actively help the person figure out what their Identity is rather than just introducing them to the general idea.
So while a Mage of Heart might just explain what it means to be trans and help get rid of internalised transphobia so the person can more easily Understand themself, a Seer of Heart will ensure that the person ends up in the exact circumstances that will lead to their acceptance.
For the Seer of Heart, I did actually go over what they’d be able to see here, so I won’t focus on that aspect of it too much.
To go in depth a bit more just for some interesting thoughts;
The Seer of Heart would be able to see events that cause big changes in a person’s Identity. For instance, they’d be able to see, Post Earth C, that Dirk suddenly reverts back to his old Self - and they’d be able to prevent that from happening so long as they thought to check that far down his Soul’s timeline.
They’d be able to See every time he might change, and how they could facilitate that change. So, they’d be able to See (just by looking at Dirk when he first enters the game) that much further down the line he’ll have a conversation with someone he loves that will change him for the better. They’d See a rooftop, and maybe a green sky, and they’d definitely be able to See the red Soul curled up next to his, rife with Emotion.
They’d also be able to See that, if this event does not come to pass, Dirk’s Soul won’t change.
Likewise, they’d be able to See that Terezi’s Soul suddenly becomes overrun by the Purple of Gamzee’s at one point in her Timeline, and that Meulin seems to be overrun by this Purple almost all the time.
This doesn’t mean they can See the Alpha Timeline specifically, or even that they can See what’s going to happen overall. It’s very limited to a change in a person’s sense of Self or Identity, maybe just a sharp change in their Emotional state. They’d have no clue if the Alpha Timeline needs Dirk to have that rooftop talk with Dave or not, but they’d be able to See that Dirk becomes a better person for it.
Also, Seeing Splinters. Since you did ask for the Thief and Seer in conjunction, it seems fitting to mention this; the Seer would be able to glance at the Thief and See this Amalgamation of Selves surrounding the Thief’s Soul. They’d also be able to See the Heir as they move around in Soul form, and they’d be able to see (for example) that Lil Cal doesn’t have one set Soul, but several Souls shoved together.
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I havent written in a very long time. Im grateful i wrote previously and have something to look back on. So much has changed. S and i broke up. Its been more than a year, depending on how you count it, maybe 1.5 yrs.
Im not sure where im going with this, or in life. There were things i believed in before, had hope and ideals. I havent any hope now, i dont know what to hope in (apart from God). Its been like this for a while. What does it look like to hope in God now?
Ive ended up in a specialty i didnt plan on going into. What’s done is done. But the learning point is, it would have been better to take more time to rotate around before deciding, because it was an emotional, impulsive decision (felt way too rushed, i knew this even at the time of applying). It wasnt a peaceful decision, the way such “life-defining” decisions should be made. It was an emotional time - literally six days after S sent that message to break up with me, my boss texted to ask if i was still interested in applying. Im deeply grateful for the opportunity he gave me which i didn’t and don’t deserve. I should have a word with him at some point. On a side note, im deeply grateful that this dept and the people i work with now are mostly of incredible Godly character, a very unique and irreplaceable quality in a workplace.
So much has fallen apart. My career, and the relationship with the person who became my best friend over the course of 7-9 years. It felt unreal, standing there watching everything explode. I couldnt believe what was happening. I never expected things to explode this way. I never expected myself to leave, and i never expected him to leave. He didn’t mean to be cruel, but i experienced it as such, through the whole months of me begging. Especially at the point where he physically walked out on me and closed the door when i was crying hysterically - not to be overdramatic, but it felt like pure coldness to do that to my uncontrollably hemorrhaging heart (like watching that aorta spurting on cardiothoracics). He still thinks choosing not to carry on is right and directed by God, which i doubt. He declined reconciliation despite months of my sincere apologies, pleading with him and my attempts to remediate where i screwed up (he hasn’t made an effort to reconcile with me in 1.5 yrs, cos he’s lost faith in our relationship and, it seems, me, entirely. Unfair as it might feel, that’s the way he feels). All in all, the break up was devastating. I’m still disoriented and trying to find my feet.
Ive significantly lost respect for him, because of his choice not to carry on and to, well, give up on us. I feel that this was more an emotional decision than a decision based on a true seeking of God, true dying to self and true obedience, especially to certain biblical instructions (love your neighbour as yourself, in humility value others above yourself, the relationship as an expression of love for Christ “what you did to the least of these you did to me” rather than a competition for love for Him, 1cor13).
I feel his decision to give up, abandon and betray is not biblically based, even if it can be justifiable by a twist of verses (he justifies not carrying on as him “putting God first”). I feel his decision was driven more by his hurt that i broke up with him, over text, last feb, and my cheating on him in july, than a real, honest, self-challenging attempt to “put God first”. I feel the decision not to carry on came more from his hurt over what i did to him than a true excavation of what it means to obey God and seek Him first. Its not necessary to leave someone whom youve built up a relationship with in order to put God first. Its arguable that being there for one’s friends IS putting God first, rather than leaving them because you can’t deal with it emotionally (greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends).
E says that its never so simple as “i heard it from God”, its all a mix of (sometimes sinful) human emotions as well as right-minded intention to follow God. How much of this move is driven by God vs his own human uncontrollable emotions? I doubt he’s admitted the whole truth to himself or me.
But i think his hurt is valid. It definitely is. He says he still doesnt feel whole coming out of 2019 and how i broke things off with him over text in feb and how i cheated in july. I’m not sure what he feels because i cant identify, but he says he doesnt want to deal with the pain with me because it was caused by me, and he’s not ready to talk to me (“can’t deal with it”). He tried to forgive me at the time, attending counselling with me, but gave up after 2 sessions. So i guess i can believe there may be a part of him that could want to work towards a friendship at some point (tho this is thrown into doubt at times, because of our apparent fundamental and irreconciliable differences). On my end, I feel that ive given him the benefit of the doubt many times, and hes always disappointed me in this process, since the break up. He’s never showed up or been the bigger person.
I could give him time, or i could end things. I could give him time to process what he needs to, and give him the chance to potentially engage with me the right way at some time in the future.
Should i, though?
Well, yes and no. Part of me knows he will only ever disappoint me cos thats all hes ever done consistently. The other part of me wants to give him the benefit of the doubt and just let him process things in his own time because its destructive to operate with such cynicism. One is overly cynical, the other is overly hopeful, and both responses arent centred.
Overall i just dont want to think about this anymore. I just want this whole thing out of my mind.
But is that enough for me to cut him out completely and forever? When i ask him, he replies that he wants to be friends but doesn’t know how or when that could happen. He isn’t at all invested in this “friendship”, even if he says its what he wants. He thinks God needs to encourage it or something before he will put in the effort... its all so screwed up cos of his ridiculous view or way of hearing from God that’s so mystical and non-bible based. I honestly feel really disgusted by him. He has been asking me not to contact him for a long time, more than a year. I’ve agreed to honour that. Mainly out of an understanding that he’ll never change, and ive outgrown him and his cuckoo ideas about how to hear from God. I know even if we become friends in the future, he’s gonna be the exact same dud - and why would i want to go back to that? Even as a friend. My basic requirements for friendship are that i respect the person and they respect me back. He absolutely does not respect me, and i absolutely dont respect him. Even tho we pay lip service to each other in emails for the sake of appearing holy and peace loving, we each are 100% convinced we know better. I don’t see a friendship here. I see disgust. I see contempt. Its beyond repair. And theres no instruction from God to repair it. So it will lie unrepaired for life.
Thinking about him makes me get into unpleasant thoughts and feelings. I dont have the exact words to describe how i feel. Not quite just anger (im over the peak of that), not really sadness (i do feel its sad that i still care about him and think about him so much when he wants nothing to do with me and wants me to not contact him - i mean, i dont have a practice of asking people not to contact me indefinitely, i think its rude, unfair and cruel), not just superiority cos i do admit i dont know everything and God works in mysterious ways and He still establishes a relationship with S even tho there is likely disobedience and misguidedness in S that he may never ever come to realize in this life). Its not purely a sense of betrayal as i walked out first - i knew he wasnt what i wanted, cos he wasnt loving me, or kind, or Christlike in his countenance towards not just me but everyone around us. I shouldnt just have walked out i should have pointed us to God, but there you have it. I dont regret ending things cos i know if i had continued we would be in a worse place than we are in now, where im stuck in an unhappy relationship out of obligation and fear of being alone. Its better to not be in a relationship than to be in one where you arent respected or loved.
I would say this whole event has had an impact on my relationship with... effort and commitment? Knowing you can try your best and have everything still fail. I used to believe in the “power of my dreams”. That i could get anything i wanted if i wanted it enough. But ive learnt that where the outcome is dependent on things outside my control (eg other people, genetics, politics), just trying my best and bringing my best intentions isnt enough. Its something but it doesnt guarantee an outcome - nothing can. You can say God can guarantee an outcome, but i would be cautious to believe only what He’s given in the bible and some revelations that are consistent with that and have been confirmed by wiser believers than myself, and those who know me well.
I have to hope again. And i have to stop wallowing and being selfpitiful. No. I have to hold myself to a higher standard.
The between places.
To focus on the next right thing - passing anatomy and being punctual. Seeking God, esp in my work...
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Do you have any tips on running a Studygram? I'm thinking of starting one but there are already so many Studygrams, I don't know if me making one will make an impact :(
hi anon! i’m not the best or biggest studygrammer out there but I’m flattered you decided to ask me :> i think it really depends on what you mean by making an ‘impact’, so before you start a studygram you rly gotta ask yourself what you hope to get out of it. do you want to gain followers? do you want a visual record of your study journey towards some major exam (like ‘A’ levels)? do you want to make friends online and feel like you’re part of a tight-knit and supportive social circle? do you want people to admire your lettering/ bujo? do you want to post photos of stationery? do you want to get extrinsic motivation in the form of encouraging comments and likes? there are tons of reasons why people start studygrams, not all of them healthy, but rly it’s your life so u can do what u want but u have to be honest with yourself and be prepared for the consequences.
ok sO I SAID THAT ON MY STUDYBLR I WILL BE 100% REAL SO IMMA DO SOME REAL TALK AND IT MAY BE OFFENSIVE BC SOME THINGS OFTEN REMAIN UNSPOKEN BUT rly if u know me this is how i am 24/7 and if you disagree we can have a civil conversation about it later on. also i’m very sweary so you have all been warned.
if you’ve asked anyone else they’re v likely to tell you ‘the study community welcomes all! just do you and post original content and over time your account will grow’. maybe it’s worked for some people, but idk man it feels like a stock answer and i don’t think it’s working for most people who are in it for the numbers because they later resort to other methods that i will address below.
so before you dive into it i just wanna say that i have seen so many people get discouraged and stop posting / lash out at others because they did not get the popularity they wanted. they didn’t reach their ‘milestone’, an imaginary construct, and then they leave the community silently, or they go off on a rant about how it’s ‘cliquey’ or ‘exclusive’ or how ‘big accounts don’t care about small accounts’. WHY MAKE YOURSELF SO UNHAPPY THO? honestly being numbers-oriented will never give you happiness because THE STUDY COMMUNITY IS ALREADY OVERSATURATED and not every account can eventually ‘make it big’. this is the reality of it. you can try to gain followers by buying them, spending an inordinate amount of time plying smaller accounts with compliments and likes in the hopes that they will follow you willingly, sfs, fff, etc, OR you can not play the numbers game and do it for yourself. post what you want because you’re proud of your notes or your bujo. talk about your day or an exam or a test you screwed up on because you want to look back on both your mini successes and failures and see how far you’ve come. i’d recommend that. and to add on to that here are a handful of more specific ‘do not’s.
1️⃣ don’t obsess over your ratio. what ratio? the ‘posts : followers : following’ ratio. it’s childish and arbitrary. idk how having a 4:10k:70 ratio is supposed to make you a better person or a better student, but people really do that shit. like wtf. they delete/archive their posts and follow only big accounts (who MUST be mutuals) just to maintain that ratio. it’s ridiculous. and idk how someone can have the time to do all that AND get good grades. achieving the golden ratio at the expense of your own future is not worth it ya so fk that.
2️⃣ don’t obsess over making an ’aesthetic’ feed. i know this is really ironic coming from me bc my feed is just about as constructed and artificial as it gets. but that’s what i’m in it for, and my grades don’t suffer for it. also i want to add that i’m here to make something beautiful for myself, not to fit the prevailing ‘white’ aesthetic. i’ve seen so many people apologise for an ‘ugly’ post or an ‘ugly’ feed and honestly it makes me a little sad because what exactly are they comparing their photos to? real paper isn’t white. paper in natural lighting has a yellow tint to it. muji notebooks have yellowish paper. even white bedsheets don’t always come out white in photos. no one has good lighting 24/7. and honestly idgaf about a ‘clean’ feed which more often than not refers to White Everything which is not only unrealistic but Boring with a capital B. maybe your posts won’t get as many likes as you want it to because of the dim lighting or non-branded stationery or your ‘unaesthetic’ ink-blotted desk that isn’t strewn with potpourri. but if you’re thinking along those lines then you’re already doing it for the numbers, y’know what i mean? fk the numbers! do it for art! do it for yourself! art doesn’t need validation to be art! also from personal experience, the prettiest most artistic accounts are often highly underrated. to quote a friend, ‘people relate to mediocrity’. if you try to copy the big accounts because you want to have that kind of popularity, your feed will look boring and generic and lacklustre, like a knockoff version of theirs. except you don’t have the numbers either. so what does that make your account but the ghost of another person’s? just be yourself and post your own shit it’s better in the long run.
3️⃣ don’t apologise for ‘not posting enough’ or whatever. it’s your account and honestly you don’t owe it to anyone to post anything, esp if you don’t have the time or energy bc of exams or impt life events. also i honestly don’t think anyone cares if you don’t post for more than a week?? tbvh no one really cares or notice???? if posting becomes an obligation then why even run a studygram??? isn’t it supposed to be a fun and relaxing hobby? if you’re posting because you’re not gaining followers or impressions and you don’t even like the post that much so you’re gonna delete it later, WHAT IS THE POINT? pls refer to point 2.
4️⃣ don’t ask for sfs / fff. it may work with some of the nicer, more numbers-oriented people, but from what i know most big accounts really cannot stand it when some random upstart comments / dms asking for a shoutout or for a follow or for them to ‘check out their page’. you will be labelled thirsty or attention-seeking, and they may or may not mock you on their private accounts. it’s just really irritating? like why even create a study account if you’re just trying to play the numbers game? are your grades really going to improve if you can ‘reach’ 1k followers? i have never done sfs / fff bc it just feels dishonest to me. if i shoutout someone it’s bc i think their content is underrated and deserves more attention, not bc i want their followers to follow me in exchange for my followers following them. it’s just so…transactional and dehumanising? i don’t think followers should be treated like mere statistics and i prefer having genuine friendships.
5️⃣ don’t do the ‘follow for a followback and then unfollow’ thing and all of its variations, e.g. ‘follow and then unfollow if you don’t get a followback’, ‘leave a dozen comments hoping for a follow that you won’t reciprocate’, ‘leave a dozen comments hoping for a follow first bc u don’t want to follow without a guaranteed followback’, or the worst: ’calling people out for unfollowing you when you never followed them back because you’re obsessed with maintaining your golden ratio’. it’s unsavoury and off-putting and everyone can see right through it.
6️⃣ don’t post a coloured-out screenshot of your latest post on your story informing people of your new post and asking them to ‘check it out’ or ‘show it some love’ when we all know it means ‘pls like my latest post bc numbers matter to me’. maybe it works if you have a big account bc even if it’s only 0.5% of your viewers who will purposely tap on your profile and like your latest post, that 0.5% is a lot of people which translates to a lot more likes. but if you’re a small account it just looks like you’re imitating the big accounts and being thirsty for followers and likes. it’s not classy. to put it colloquially, damn despo lah don’t liddat can.
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The Art Behind Manipulating & Guarding a Fandom (p. I)
NOTES:
*I’ll be quoting a lot, esp the parts I consider more relevant, however if you want to study the whole thing [which I HIGHLY recommend] I’ll attached the link to each of the sources. It might seem like a lot of info but PLEASE do yourself a favour & check it ALL out.*
*I’ve divided the subject in FOUR PARTS bc since I need your total attention & I don’t want you to start sleeping halfway, I’ll be posting periodically, at least till you end processing the prior post*
*Most of the posts I direct you to, are SHORT & in my opinion not too dense to read. In fact, the great majority are Q&As. I'll identified every post with a letter, it means that throughout the various posts you’ll see them repeated, so no need to read one twice*
*If you’re starting to get tired or feeling swamped with the amount of info. Take a break, process it, go eat something & free your mind then come back. It’s highly relevant to read the whole & if you think it helps you to rest for a moment, I encourage you to do it*
*Everyone who has a 5H blog or related, READ & SPREAD THIS. At the end of the day we’re equal victims of this happening*
- decoding1432.
Ever felt like you get fishy anons? Ever questioned whether if your blog or Twitter acc is monitored? Ever doubt those “exposing accounts” claiming to be insiders? Ever mistrust a mutual or similar? Yeah, well all that encircles a phenomenon better known as:
Astroturfing
Before we jumped into the meaning & detailed explanation of it, allow me to tell you the story of how I found out this fascinating concept. I’ve been wanting to do a post about “bot accounts” & “fanbase manipulation” since I read this post about the way Sony deals with fandoms. If there’s someone out there who knows about this better than anyone else, is the directioners. I swear the amount of data they own regarding the industry is enough to fill 10 libraries (I went through hell to find everything lol)
I must say in advance that most of the information obtained in my research are posts from theirs– all credit to them for their masterposts– so I apologise if you get too tired of reading “Harry, Louis, Ziam, Modest & bla, bla, bla” but it is ultimately very worthy stuff & let’s not forget that band came out from the same womb (great thing fans over there are too woke & we can grab a lot from their knowledge, seriously I have insane respect for that fanbase). Anyway, like I was telling, I first heard the word “astroturfing” when I was talking to lawyerlarry:
I asked her with the purpose of being linked to a post relating “bot accounts” or alike but to my surprise I was lead to a much more complex principle. At first, I deadass thought my lack of vocabulary in English was the cause I hadn’t understood what lawyerlarry was trying to tell me. When you look it in the dictionary, you’ll probably get something like this:
Now, what does it really mean in the SM context?
(NOTE: I’ll leave several definitions so that you can get a clearer idea).
No.1 *link A*
“This sounds very much like, trolling, you say. It does, but whereas trolling is done by one or several individuals for mischief, astroturfing is an organised, professional form of trolling with an agenda, an objective, a set mode of operation and an end-goal. Think trolling on steroids.
It sounds very far-fetched and very conspiracy theory-ish, but it’s been used in a lot of forms, from maligning celebrities and high-profile people to companies using astroturfers to provide fake consumer reviews, boost their credibility (thank you for reblogging that article mirandaskye, btw!), or discredit their competition. Some even go on a nationalistic scale of seeding political dissent among political parties. Because of the anonymity that the internet can provide, astroturfing is mostly common online.
Astroturfers can take several forms:
Posts, comments, etc from fake social media identities
Fake consumer reviews or brand/product testimonials
Fake online organisations/watchdog communities”
No. 2 (summarised) *link B*
Means pretending to be a fan, when in reality the agenda and strategy are controlled by a non-fan or “tptb” organisation. (‘tptb= the powers that be’ for the 1D fam is what we refer here to men in suits).
“Astroturfing takes place all the time it happens all across the internet everyday. There are varying degrees in which it happens. There are corporate bought twitter followers (x) and paid for positive and negative yelp reviews (x). It goes on and on. It is just part of business. Unethical? Misleading? Yeah but they’ve been doing it since forever. Big multibillion dollars have been fined for engaging in astroturfing (x) yet they still engage in it. The financial benefits must outweigh the risk.”
No. 3 *link C* (more summarised)
No. 4 *link D* (even more summarised)
If you ask me, I would personally keep the first definition because certainly astroturfing encompasses more than just Tumblr. It extends to Twitter up to the political world. If you’ve gotten to this point thinking it’s a conspirative aspect, watch the following video, IT’S A MUST:
youtube
Since I’m such a nerd for TED Talks I enjoyed it besides I’m so fascinated by this concept. But in all honesty, ten minutes of your life that won’t go to waste.. However if you decide to keep scrolling down at least I suggest you skip to minute 2:08- 2:48 & 8:56- till the end. For anyone who can’t play the video, I’ll remark the points:
Min 2:08- 2:48
“What is Astroturf? It’s a perversion of grassroots, as in fake grassroots. Astroturf is when political, corporate, or other special interest disguise themselves & publish blogs, start Facebook & Twitter accounts, publish ads, letter to the editor, or simply posts comments online to try to fool you into thinking an independent or grassroots movement (in our case fans) is speaking. The whole point of Astroturf is to try to get the impression there’s widespread support for or against an agenda when there’s not. Astroturf seeks to manipulate you into changing your opinion by making you feel as if you’re an outlier when you’re not.”
Min 8:56- till the end
“I have a few strategies that I can tell you about, to help you recognise signs of propaganda and astroturf. Once you start to know what to look for you’ll begin to recognise it everywhere.
First, hallmarks of astroturfing include use of inflammatory language such as crack, nutty, lies, paranoid, and conspiracy. Astroturfers often claim to debunk myths that aren’t myths at all. Use of the charged language tests well, people hear something’s a myth, maybe they find it on snopes, and they instantly declare themselves too smart to fall for it. But what if the whole notion of the myth is itself a myth and you and snopes fell for that?
Beware when interests attack an issue by controversialising or attacking the people, personalities, and organizations surrounding it rather than addressing the facts, that could be astroturf.
And most of all, astroturfers tend to reserve all of their public skepticism for those exposing wrongdoing rather than the wrongdoers. In other words instead of questioning authority, they question those who question authority.”
Why is this so incredibly familiar…?
#astroturfing#this is how they monitor us#part two will be about the types of astroturfers & how to identify them#sneaky little bitches#5h fandom#harmonizers#fifth harmony#camila cabello#fifth harmony blogs#camren blogs#read & spread
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SU SUNG’S COSMICS ENGINE!
More guerilla ontology (or as much as I can manage in a few pages)...Utopiate! Meanwhile, right here...the snakes of Orion continue their battle with the wolves of Sirius...Indeed do a multiple of conspiracies contend in the night. And in broad bare faced daylight too. Am I kidding? How seriously should you take a comedian? In Arabic, the words poet, prophet and madman are all interchangeable. I am none of these things. Hello. Being, distracted by 'reality'...Anyway...'Shepherdess no temptation that Poussin Teniers hold the key peace 681 by the cross and this horse of God I complete this daemon guardian at noon blue apples.' Ok?
'....Or was the final secret simply and bluntly, that there really is an interstellar ESP channel, to which you can tune in by meta programming your nervous system?' (RAW) Anyone heard any new transmissions from UMMO recently?
Been listening to several long lectures from the Psychedelic Salon podcasts with Lorenzo, only found it two weeks ago on Archive.org. Endless fascination via Dr Terrance ('I'm somewhat immune to paranoia, so those of you who aren't...gaze in wonder') McKenna, the Beats, Leary, Hakim Bey and of course Robert Anton Wilson, jewels of human/cosmic wisdom/humour. A nice idea recommending more scientists, doctors and architects etc take mushrooms. (micro dosing in Silicon Valley had significantly positive results in problem solving.) Of course research into this was closed down as soon as drug companies got wind of it and ran to the various governments they help fund in return for brutal legislation against this.
How many of us are 'criminals' simply because the donors to those who lead us do not want their programmes interrupted by anything they cannot control and pay for laws to be passed? Millions. Oil barons, weapons manufacturers, drug companies, fundamentalist religions all hindering our evolving in the name of greed for money and power. Obvious to say. Give 'em all mushrooms, deepen their perception, widen their truth, change their minds and open their hearts? (Pause for sardonic grin.) Those who feel powerless get used to being treated like cattle. And those used to getting their own way at the expense of others enjoy it and will continue.
And speaking of stasis and decay...America stepping heavily on its own dick again in Alabama with their abortion law, don't matter none if the foetus is caused by rape and/or incest...for it is surely against the will of God even though HE (arf) gave us free will. Bullburgers to that. The one who carries it, gives birth to it and is (in the majority of cases from the year dot) feeds and raises it, has The Right. Not God, man or the 'law'. Equal rights? Some men have never been equal to women. Some of us may have bigger muscles and better logic fnord but that is only enough for a certain type of survival. Life, liberty and the glorious pursuit of our penis...'Man is a fool, and woman, for tolerating him, is a damn fool'.Mark Twain wrote that. Bill Hicks had it right years ago...put all the unwanted babies on the steps of the courthouse and let the judges who pass such foul laws raise them. As one of the placards of the women outside the State House in (Sweet Home) Alabama read: 'Senators' mistresses and daughters will always have their abortion choice rights'.
Reminds me of an old song by Consolidated...'If you don't want a Nazi in your house, don't let one, don't know a fundamentalist till you've met one, if you memorized your civil rights, don't forget one, if you don't want an abortion, DON'T GET ONE! ...Do you think women want to kill their own babies...if you've got your own twisted baggage then maybe...'
The USA is 9.6 Million km squared with 328 million people, China has 17 million km squared and 1.4 billion people. Soon to be implanted with chips from Huawei, hi hi hi... 'A tyrant does not make his tyranny possible. It is made possible by the people and not otherwise'. Jack Parsons. On the desolate anniversary of Tienanmen Square today, it doesn't look as if the tyranny there is going to vanish for another few decades...and in America either/or maybe...
More religious news...The recent (ish) new law in Brunei where homosexuality was to be punishable by stoning to death has now been rescinded in the face of a small worldwide outcry. Ordained in the Koran, another holy book dictated by god to a chosen human, so no need at all to worry about being misinterpreted and getting lost in translation eh? A clear and perfect relay of information where an Infinite Being commands that no man may cuddle another man on pain of execution. Murder being acceptable when Big Daddy says so. The eternal and (non corporeal) Punishing Father figure. Ufff and a charming photo of a priest with a couple of young boys beside him burning Harry Potter books in Poland because apparently JK Rowling is working for Satan. No matter that the morals in her books are based on good triumphing over evil thanks to self sacrifice, friendships and the desire to save the world from badness. It has WITCHES and WIZARDS in it and magic and alchemy. No matter that Christ learned much of his healing and wisdom from John the Essene who also practised such things. Burning books...how quaint. Only fundamentalists, nazis and the scientific community (when faced with Wilhelm Reich's life work) do this. Well I only liked Snape anyway. And...fairy tales are now banned from many schools in Spain. More Roman Catholic common sense in action.
Sudan and Libya raging again, encouraged by the Kremlin (but to be fair to them, they had plenty of useful lessons from watching the CIA at work in the seventies and eighties) Destabilisation is always a good way of creating power vacuums and making sure your chosen puppet ascends to the throne made of the skulls and gold of enemies. Kim Wrong Un took the slow train to meet Baldhead...the Pilsbury cheese dough boy now fat enough to feed an entire North Korean family living on donkeys and grass. Almost funny but mostly truly Disgusting. 43 percent of the populace (according to this years UN report) are suffering from malnutrition...600 escapees have given gave evidence. Tie him down to a feasting table...
Still amuses me (although with gathering darkness) that in seeking to regain 'control' of their own countries, so many are following the populists with their bigoted and fascist ideas, oblivious that the leaders of such parties are mostly being funded via the Kremlin. Speaking of which, nice to see the always decent and rational libertarian Steve Bannon assisting Le Pen in France. How many in Britain think that the Russian government is doing a good job? Are they thinking at all, or just looking forward to the chlorine washed chicken, hormone injected beef and genetically modified maize soon to pollute our green and pleasant fracked land from America? Yum yum yum, yab yab yab...
To be born British, is to win first prize in the lottery of life'. Cecil Rhodes. If blonde Boris wins, I will be VERY tempted not to get a new UK passport, I pray heartily that the the British people are truly not so mindwreckingly stupid to choose such a proven liar and self serving bullshit merchant. Inexcusable if they do as the USA.
The president speaks with a reptile tongue, trump behaving exactly as a chimpanzee alpha as shown on anthropological tv and in Reicheian psychology...loudest voice blaming other skin types for disease and crime etc. You are a foul stain sir, a smear on on the windows of perception. However, a Hansard Society survey was published by The Times...it seems that more than half of Britons now want to be led by a political 'strongman' who is 'willing to break the rules'. I have been writing and saying for the last thirty years that the political situation in the UK has been piece by piece, organised to influence the people to vote into office what I always called a British Stalin. Because everyone (most) are now SO deeply enraged with useless 'public servants', it would be a highly logical step and a simple way to democratically elect such a person. I expect either the next or next next prime minister to be the One. And then we can only hope that a V for Vendetta type scenario plays out before too many are rounded up and vanished.
Worth inserting a longish salient quote from Robert Anton Wilson’s book Everything is Under Control; ‘...Dr (Willheim) Reich vastly offended many people by his sociological theory, which holds that fascism is just an exaggerated form of of the basic structure of sex-negative socities and has existed under other names in every civilization based on sexual repression. In this theory, the character and muscular armor of the average citizen - a submissive and frightened attitude anchored in body reflexes- causes the average person to want a strong authority figure above them. Tyranny, in this model, is not created by tyrants alone but by neurotic masses who want tyrants. This quite possibly maybe explains much about the mentality of various countries and who they have (and continue to chose) chosen as their leaders.
Extinction Rebellion...sun shields in space? Forests of artificial trees to vacuum the Co2? hmmm...Biodiversity, a million species dying and unlikely to be saved, links in the chain being removed one by one thousand. Hard to be an optimist in the face of humanity knowingly getting to this point, having been told and shown over and over again. Dammed liberal atheist scientists spreading facts and proof just to get funding for their pet global warming projects eh? Take a look at all those who are against cutting carbon emissions, reducing arms and speak in favour of fracking, drilling for oil, deeper landfills (out of sight out of mind) genetically modified food etc and see whether there is common theme in their linguistics and behaviour patterns. Short term gain at the expense of the future and an almost evil approach to humanity. As if they have read The Power of Now and taken all the wrong inferences from it. Optimism takes will power, use it or lose it says the hyper manic 'realist', constantly looking for the next possible negative, reductio ad absurdum...
Loving diversity and collages (and goulash) I firmly believe in mixing the races and religions, (wherever and whenever and if ever they choose to intermarry... blend them all. Humanity will not become one homogeneous lump but a mass group of those evolved beyond the manipulations based on such, recognising the old hippy truth of one world and multi dimensions. The new wave or particle, depending what instrument of sense you use to perceive the phase transition. 'A society grows great when old men plant trees, whose shade they know they shall never sit in'..... 'If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?' Rumi
False users/sock puppets on facebook and twitter, ranting robots turned lose with a tap of a finger and blackmail swindles...One recent email to me in Chinese had two words in English, one of which was 'Bitcoin'. Translated, it read that the writer had my passwords and would release my browser history to all in my address book unless several thousand bitcoins were sent to an account. A month later a further email in bad English from a presumed female told me she had filmed our last sexual encounter years ago and all the depraved things we did...this too would be made public unless...Well good luck to you darling, porn comedies are always worth watching. Just as research of course. Ho was the Chinese god of laughter...
The Instagram suicide of the unhappy Malaysian teenage girl who asked in an on-line poll whether she should kill herself or not. 70percent of her followers said 'Do it' and are now facing arrest. Since day one of me first looking at the internet and the comments on twitter, youtube et al, it was immediately apparent just how many web users are dumb/souldead and have nothing to offer of any goodness. On all the online places where I exist in a twilight world, the comments are disabled. I make no money from my music or writing, I do it because I wish to and enjoy it...and already know I am an idiot without being told. (I I I...yuck, have to get back to E Prime and remove I and Is, life seems to deepen with freedom and happiness when this method is (damn) applied.) I wish a safe journey with love to the girl for next time, never listen to those who are heartless. Vampires all.
Meanwhile...inside the epic of Gilgamesh and still swinging like an ape from the Golden Bough, the mind observing the mind, the heart feeling the heart, walking the May time streets dizzy with waves of empathy, going home to re-balance...from philosophy in the bedroom, to the universe next door, my flat with traces of lavender, cinnamon and patchooli with a hint of vanilla, coffee and yesterday night's marijuana smoke. A day of preparing and next morning early up the hill alone to the sunlit portal, half and half crossover, transmit and receive. Time dissolved the time dissolved, all in a dilation of an hour arf. Dionysus, Aphrodite and Apollo, walking hand in hand through the apocalypse...laughing with intent...'The uncanny...is just the right hemisphere's way of violently capturing our attention'. RAW.
I was given Oak, Holly and Hornbeam in a rescue remedy by a wise woman in a wooden room. A month after this cure for creeping horror, she gave me a bottle of good Irish Whiskey for my birthday, which (in spite of my liver and pancreas) was too beautiful to resist. Steadily drank it over the next three days of resurrection along with some high grade weed. In spite of how a lot of my writing may come across, I hadn't smoked grass/dope since late 1994, yes really. Now I find I can multi task with total focus on all, listening to two hour lectures while listening to instrumental music, reading from a Kindle and writing at the same time. This works for about 150 minutes and then I need to go and lie down to dream,:-)
Information gathering speed until it becomes energy. Lost among the octaves.... inverted comas, images flash and then dissolve, they melt to universal. Nothing exists until it is perceived. The 'universe' didn't explode as such, but came through. Black holes inverted until gravity/pressure built up waves of energy and gave birth through the hole. All 'Illumination' ideas come from genetic/subatomic memory and the babys' memory of being born into the light. The process is repeated endlessly in infinite multidimensional loops. A chain of eternal creation and evolution. Easy eh?:-) And don't forget, a journey of a million aeons begins with but a single trip...
'Opinions result from perceptions and perceptions reinforce opinions which then further control perceptions, in a repeating loop that logic can never penetrate.' Stasis and decay result unless a little shock of the new is introduced one way or the other to 'startle the brain enough to reframe its experiences. Be aware of the God. If you are timid enough to stop with what is natural, Nature will elude your grasp forever' de sade. Who defines what is natural? Any old perverted psychopath with a quill pen? Take it easy or give it hard...
Our universe consists of 'non simultaneously apprehended events', which we process, interactively. This means we need to update our data often, in order to survive and evolve. The problem comes with those who just close down, especially dogmatic fundamentalists, when they believe they have found 'the truth'... The conspiracy of counter evolution stems from them. Keep updating your data...all the way back to the cosmic giggle )+(
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