princezukohere

[princezukohere]

Me : never degrade yourself for a man

Also me :

[princezukohere]

I started using Head and Shoulders ten years ago for itchy scalp and dandruff, and then for ten years I have not had itchy scalp and dandruff, so I thought “why do I still buy shampoo to combat itchy scalp and dandruff when I do not have itchy scalp and dandruff,” so I stopped buying the shampoo for itchy scalp and dandruff and can you guess I have now? Can you predict what currently afflicts me? It’s alright if you can’t because apparently I fuckin couldn’t either

[princezukohere]

I find it interesting that you keep saying that Asians in Asia don't see themselves as poc. While you may feel that way, I think it's valid to note that Britain (white people) occupied and conquered what was then India (today India, Pakistan, Bhutan, etc.) There is a big difference between the fair indians and the darker indians. To be light skinned is considered beautful. Therefore, that region of Asia does see itself as poc for they were treated as second class to the gori British.

Hey, I appreciate you writing in! I’ll explain my thinking behind the term here.

I too grew up in a former British colony, so while I did have a concept of whiteness and therefore do not see myself as “white”- I want to emphasise that the term “person of colour” does have different political and cultural implications than “non-European” or perhaps “non-white”. Simply, I do not see myself as “white” because of British colonialism, but I does not mean I see myself as a “person of colour”. I see myself as Han Chinese, East Asian or Asian. “ In general, I believe the term should not be used carelessly outside the US due to different ideas of whiteness between the US and Europe, as well as other countries in the Americas, where race isn’t perceived the exact same way. I don’t believe it should be used at all in the non-Western context.

1. Person of colour is a term that specifically originated in the context of the United States’ system of colourist racism, of Jim Crow, of slavery, where the idea of “white” became a vehicle to confer privilege. I say “vehicle” because whiteness has always been a social construct. in much earlier parts of US history, several light-skinned European ethnic groups were not allowed to access whiteness, like Irish people. Today, they are seen as white. Although the term has been used carelessly by many people on tumblr, “person of colour” is first and foremost a racialised identity taken on to organise against white supremacy- in Western contexts.

2. I don’t believe it should be applied to non-Western contexts firstly, because the history of Asian colourist discrimination has actually long-predated European colonial rule. Further, it doesn’t quite just exist as a marker of racial otherness, but as a class division. Fair skin has been prized in China, Japan and Korea for thousands of years due to classism. I believe it is the case with India too- from what I know, it was very much tied to the ancient Indian caste system or other class/regional divisions. That is not to say that Western beauty standards don’t help to reinforce this preference today, but it would be inaccurate for us to ascribe this obsession for light skin all to recent European imperialism. Recognising its ancient roots is crucial: as a light-skinned East Asian, nobody has ever tried to sell me skin-whitening cream, unlike my other Han Chinese friends who were darker-skinned. 

3. As “person of colour” is an organising tool against white supremacy, I do not believe it has much relevance in non-Western contexts because we are no longer under European colonial rule. This is not to say its legacy doesn’t still affect us, but that the fault lines and tensions that matter are very often not going to centre so much around whiteness anymore in day-to-day life. I feel white privilege can be discussed there without us defining ourselves as “persons of colour”. 

Primarily, I am against the term because it posits a false illusion of solidarity that erases local oppressor-oppressed dynamics, and centering on whiteness very often becomes a tool of deflection for their own crimes (like in Mugabe’s ZImbabwe, when he appropriated land from white farmers but mostly gave it to his cronies who didn’t utilise the land properly, causing food shortages that hurt thousands of black Zimbabweans.) On another level, I don’t wish to centre around whiteness all the time because I think the fixation on it at the expense of other fault lines is in of itself a perpetuation of Eurocentic/whitecentric history and narratives.

To me, the attendant notions of solidarity underpinning the idea of POC have very little relevance when outside the Western world, our oppressive structures and systems of privileges are very often run by other non-Europeans. Whiteness is the “default” in the US, but in mainland China? It’s being Han Chinese. Han Chinese supremacy is the reason for continued racism and Sinicisation of non-Han minorities like Uighur Muslims and Tibetan. And this racism has a history in Chinese imperialism that long-predates European colonialism. To call all of us “POC” flattens the power structure and posits false solidarity between oppressor and victim- it allows the oppressor to wrongly occupy the space as the victim: as if the Han Chinese general is the same as the non-Han people he has captured for human sacrifices to the gods during the Shang Dynasty. Minorities in the Middle-East and North Africa like Kurds, Amazigh are very often marginalised by Arab supremacy- such as when Saddam Hussein enacted a genocide against Iraqi Kurds in the 1980s, using chemical weapons. The Nigerian government’s slow response to the Boko Haram crisis despite angry protests by Nigerians? The government not caring when people in Northern Nigeria, which is much more impoverished- die. For my own family history, some of the deepest grievances stem from how the Japanese mistreated my grandparents during WW2.

4. Lastly, the term “POC” outside the Western context tends to flatten the power structure between non-Europeans who live in the West or otherwise have a Western background vis a vis people from our ancestral countries. 

White privilege can reinforce Western privilege but they are not totally synonoymous: Because even people not considered white do benefit from citizenship in a Western country or a Westernised background. When it comes to global economic inequality, we are closer to the centre of the empire, to the position of those who benefit, not the exploited. People like myself benefit from speaking English, from appearing “more European” and generally Westernised. It’s the reason my friend, who is of Indian ancestry, was treated very differently by the immigration officer when his British accent became obvious- compared to Indians from India who were on the same flight as him. There would for example, be a huge power differential between an Arab-American soldier and the other Arab people in say, Iraq. I cannot in good faith say my experiences are the same as the Chinese workers who work long hours in factories, many of whom start working at 16. At 16? I wasn’t done with schooling. It was taken for granted I would get a university education, and so on. 

5. So, the term “person of colour” is meaningless to me in the non-Western context context, and I personally find it actively harmful when people lump us as “POC cultures” because it purports to create an illusion of solidarity that obscures the massive amount of racism and oppression Asians are enacting against each other till today. Further, I see it as a projection of Western race politics on a non-Western context, which is decentering from local dynamics.

In conclusion, I very much see myself as “non-white” in Asia due to growing up in a former European colony. But I do not see myself as a “person of colour” there. I see myself somewhat as a person of colour in Europe, because it is a Western context where light-skinned Europeans are the majority. Still, not entirely- because it is quite an American term and European racism has a lot of ethnicity dimensions. I tend to see myself as Han Chinese, most specifically.

[princezukohere]

It’s wild to me to see transvestigator conspiracy theories online that could be so easily explained by natural human variation. That woman has a deep voice? Yeah, sometimes they do. A woman has broad shoulders?? Maybe she plays rugby or hits the gym a fuckton. There’s a “bulge” in her tight pants?? Maybe her vulva is just fat. All the “markers” of trans woman that transvestigators use to harass any woman aren’t even things unique to trans women.

[princezukohere]

Okay so if I wrote like a short maybe 5 part series based on this would anyone be interested?

Dearest Beloved,

In the quiet of the night, my heart trembles with a foreboding sense of unease. Hange's assurances may soothe your worries, yet within me, a fear lingers. I long to hold you close, to whisper my love into the stillness of your presence. Each passing day brings uncertainty, but know this: even in the face of peril, my love for you burns brighter than ever. If fate should decree that we are to be parted by forces beyond our control, rest assured, my soul will seek you out in the next life. Until then, hold me in your heart, as I hold you in mine.

Yours forever,

Y/N

In the shadows of uncertainty, I tread the perilous path laid out before me. Tasked by Commander Hange with a mission of utmost danger, my resolve is tested with each step. To locate and shield Eren from the shadows demands more than mere courage; it requires sacrifice, for discovery means a fate worse than death - to be transformed into a titan. Once a top-ranking cadet of the Special Operations Force, now a covert informant for Paradis, my allegiance lies with the cause and with you, my beloved. Yet, amidst the chaos of war, know this: your love is my guiding light, my reason to persevere, even in the face of impending doom.

As Captain Levi's final beacon of hope, y/n carry the weight of their world upon her shoulders.

[princezukohere]

Okay so if I wrote like a short maybe 5 part series based on this would anyone be interested?

Dearest Beloved,

In the quiet of the night, my heart trembles with a foreboding sense of unease. Hange's assurances may soothe your worries, yet within me, a fear lingers. I long to hold you close, to whisper my love into the stillness of your presence. Each passing day brings uncertainty, but know this: even in the face of peril, my love for you burns brighter than ever. If fate should decree that we are to be parted by forces beyond our control, rest assured, my soul will seek you out in the next life. Until then, hold me in your heart, as I hold you in mine.

Yours forever,

Y/N

In the shadows of uncertainty, I tread the perilous path laid out before me. Tasked by Commander Hange with a mission of utmost danger, my resolve is tested with each step. To locate and shield Eren from the shadows demands more than mere courage; it requires sacrifice, for discovery means a fate worse than death - to be transformed into a titan. Once a top-ranking cadet of the Special Operations Force, now a covert informant for Paradis, my allegiance lies with the cause and with you, my beloved. Yet, amidst the chaos of war, know this: your love is my guiding light, my reason to persevere, even in the face of impending doom.

As Captain Levi's final beacon of hope, y/n carry the weight of their world upon her shoulders.

[princezukohere]

[princezukohere]

Wow. Talk about attention to detail.

Video here: https://twitter.com/javi_draws/status/965260617790738432?s=21

[princezukohere]

Actor AU! Promoting The Final Season 🤟🔥

[princezukohere]

I'm Yours

Helloooo, this is what I'd consider a continuation of the world I created between Xavier and the reader which you can find here

Anyways no warnings, just fluff, maybe OOC Xavier, lots of kissing, and listened to I'm Yours By Isabel LaRosa while writing this so I hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 1.6K (slightly proof read)

“I love you.” Xavier spoke,lips ghosting over yours, you smiled looking from his lips to his eyes, you brought your hands to the back of his neck pulling closer to connect your lips. Xavier told you every chance he got that he loves you and it always made the fire in your heart for him burn harder. “I love you so much.” He spoke again when the kiss ended.

“And I love you.” You told him just as softly as he had told you, parent weekend was tomorrow and though your parents had met Xavier over the summer, it was different now, he wasn’t just the guy showing you around town or the school, he was your boyfriend now.

“I can tell that you're nervous.” He told you as he sat up, his body weight no longer on yours, swiftly pulling you onto his lap so you’d now be on him. Your arms wrapped around him, heading falling onto his shoulder as he brought you closer, tightening his arms around your weight. “It’ll be fine.” He added.

“Usually this goes the other way around you know.” You said, a smile tainting your voice, “How are you not nervous?”

“Because I already know that they like me and that won't go away because I've taken an interest in you.” Xavier tried explaining, resting his head on his headboard. “Plus if anything now they’ll have something to bond with me over, the most amazing thing they could’ve created and brought into the universe has become the sole existing factor to keep me going in mine.”

“If you’re going to keep talking like that, then you better expect your lips to be swollen when I’m done with you.” You told him, his chest rumbling with a small laugh, something you both could live with were swollen lips as long as the other was the one to do the job.

Xavier had told you he’d meet you with your parents for breakfast, that he had something he wanted to take care of first, you complied letting him know you’d be with them at weathervane. You had been excited to see your parents, and they as well as you, being an only child wasn’t always full of excitement but your parents had always said you were the perfect angel growing up, any and everything they could ask for, they didn’t need more. They were actively trying to take you everywhere with them when you were younger, romantic vacations turned into family ones the moment a tear had dropped when the babysitter got there and bags were packed and sitting at the door. Your mom was telling a story about what happened with a taxi driver on their most recent trip when you saw your dad smile and his hand shoot up, you turned behind you seeing Xavier walk in with flowers and his sketchbook in hand. Both your parents stood up, your dad shaking his hand and your mom greeting him with a hug as he handed her the bouquet of flowers.

“I took some flowers to your room, I know it defeats the purpose of a surprise but I think you’ll still like it when you see it,” Xavier told you after greeting both of your parents sliding into the booth next to you. You set a kiss on his cheek, taking his hand in yours under the table. Your body language had shifted, something both your parents could visibly see. The moment he sat next to you, your body melted into his, fusing to be one if it were possible. They had asked you both questions about school and the relationship, learning about both Xavier but also you again. 

“Your dad and I met at Nevermore.” Your mother had spoken after everyone had a comfortable moment of silence once your drinks were dropped off, food eaten and your father and Xavier had both gone to the front, a friendly conversation of Xavier offering to pay and your dad refusing to allow though both of them had cash in hand standing at the register. “I think you and I are similar in that aspect.” She continued making you take your attention off of your father and boyfriend and give it to her. “You look at him with so much love, the same way I looked and still look at your dad.”

“How could I not?” You asked, “He draws me….and they’re beautiful, he…he is so respectful mom, hasn’t brought up sex once.” You spoke, resting your chin in your palm as you thought about him. Your mom smiled copying your actions, her eyes asking you to tell her more. “Every morning he walks me down to breakfast and if I’m not feeling good it’s like he already knows and he’s bringing me something to my dorm. He doesn’t yell at me even when I know I’ve upset him, he’s so understanding and caring and…and he loves me.” You kept going, getting ready to speak again when you felt an arm move behind your waist, and Xaviers' body heat sat next to yours. 

“(Y/N) tells me that your art is better than I could imagine.” Your mom said to Xavier, once both men were sat back down again, Xavier smiled nodding as he opened his sketchbook. This wasn’t his usual pick to just sketch in and you knew that, it took you a moment but the shock on your face when you realized. A few months ago Xavier had asked if he started to sketch you if it would be okay if he had a designated place for it and you had told him of course. So when he brought a new sketchbook and started to fill the pages with you, you had just thought it was an adorable gesture, he had only shown you select ones for multiple reasons one being because the day Xavier could propose to you he wanted to give you this, his deepest thoughts of you, the good and the bad and the sexual, everything was all in here, the words he couldn’t say the ones that were too hard to say. Xavier opened to a specific page pretty early in the book before sliding it to your parents. Your dad had looked confused but your mother knew just by seeing this that maybe you were a bit more like your dad than she had thought. She had fallen for your father easily, effortlessly even and he not to say it was hard for him but he was oblivious for a while before the dots connected. Your mother was looking at the first time you all had met Xavier, you stood between your parents bashful, cheeks red as you stretched out a hand to shake his. 

“I drew this not too long after we met.” He spoke, his eyes looking over at you before sliding the drawing over for you to look at. You took in the image, it was slightly different than most of his work of you now,  but still as beautiful as ever.

 “I thought you had only bought the journal two months ago?” You asked him softly, your eyes trained on the drawing looking at how perfectly he had captured you and your parents. 

“Two months ago I asked you if you would find it weird if I had a journal full of sketches of you.” Xavier corrected, making your eyes shoot up to look at him.

Parent Weekend had been a success, your parents loved him, almost more than you. Both of them swapped numbers with Xavier in case of an emergency or if he ever needed anything, if anything was ever wrong with you. You were sitting in the shed taking down your developed pictures, Xavier had told you he’d come by when you were done with food so as to not distract your process of needing the shed dark for your images to come out. You had texted him twenty minutes ago letting him know you were finishing up and in need of him. He walked in, a bag of food in one hand and a blazer in the other. 

“Stay there.” You told him, looking at the confused face he made as you picked up your camera, snapping a photo or two of him. Slowly moving the camera away from your face, he could see the look you had. “You’re so pretty it hurts.” You spoke making him smile. He closed the door behind him as he sat everything down making his way over to you. 

“If me being pretty hurt then I might as well be six feet under with the pain your beauty has caused me,” Xavier spoke, voice raspy as both his hands took yours pulling you up, he dipped down capturing your lips on his, one hand holding onto your waist as he used the other hand to bring both of your arms around his neck. He lifted you up, helping you wrap your legs around him. When he pulled away from the kiss, you were lost for words, how do you go about something like this? Being loved unconditionally? Being cared for and about in every way possible?

“Baby…I’m yours, I’ve prayed for someone like you.” You told him softly, your thumb caressing his cheek as you pecked his lips. 

“I was so nervous meeting your parents.” He finally confessed, setting you on your makeshift desk, standing between your legs both hands resting on your thighs. “I stumbled over my words when I was alone with your dad at the counter, I was like this is his chance to tell me to leave you the hell alone.” He continued as he rubbed circles into your legs.

“They’d never.” You assured playing with his hair, the kisses never stopping. “The food is going to get cold.” You told him when he kissed your neck and shoulder.

“Let it.” He said simply, capturing your lips once more, “I’m yours.” He whispered against your lips.

Tag List: @alessioayla

[princezukohere]

Guys send requests 🥺

[princezukohere]

Text: PSA to anyone with a tree nut allergy who frequents starbucks. We have a new drink called the pistachio cold foam cold brew and our pistachio sauce not only has real pistachio in it, the syrup sticks inside the blender and will 100% not fully wash off with the rinsers we use (its just water). I highly suggest if you want a cold foam drink during Jan-March you request it done in a sanitized blender to lower the chance of having a reaction if you are at risk.

[princezukohere]

I'm Yours

Helloooo, this is what I'd consider a continuation of the world I created between Xavier and the reader which you can find here

Anyways no warnings, just fluff, maybe OOC Xavier, lots of kissing, and listened to I'm Yours By Isabel LaRosa while writing this so I hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 1.6K (slightly proof read)

“I love you.” Xavier spoke,lips ghosting over yours, you smiled looking from his lips to his eyes, you brought your hands to the back of his neck pulling closer to connect your lips. Xavier told you every chance he got that he loves you and it always made the fire in your heart for him burn harder. “I love you so much.” He spoke again when the kiss ended.

“And I love you.” You told him just as softly as he had told you, parent weekend was tomorrow and though your parents had met Xavier over the summer, it was different now, he wasn’t just the guy showing you around town or the school, he was your boyfriend now.

“I can tell that you're nervous.” He told you as he sat up, his body weight no longer on yours, swiftly pulling you onto his lap so you’d now be on him. Your arms wrapped around him, heading falling onto his shoulder as he brought you closer, tightening his arms around your weight. “It’ll be fine.” He added.

“Usually this goes the other way around you know.” You said, a smile tainting your voice, “How are you not nervous?”

“Because I already know that they like me and that won't go away because I've taken an interest in you.” Xavier tried explaining, resting his head on his headboard. “Plus if anything now they’ll have something to bond with me over, the most amazing thing they could’ve created and brought into the universe has become the sole existing factor to keep me going in mine.”

“If you’re going to keep talking like that, then you better expect your lips to be swollen when I’m done with you.” You told him, his chest rumbling with a small laugh, something you both could live with were swollen lips as long as the other was the one to do the job.

Xavier had told you he’d meet you with your parents for breakfast, that he had something he wanted to take care of first, you complied letting him know you’d be with them at weathervane. You had been excited to see your parents, and they as well as you, being an only child wasn’t always full of excitement but your parents had always said you were the perfect angel growing up, any and everything they could ask for, they didn’t need more. They were actively trying to take you everywhere with them when you were younger, romantic vacations turned into family ones the moment a tear had dropped when the babysitter got there and bags were packed and sitting at the door. Your mom was telling a story about what happened with a taxi driver on their most recent trip when you saw your dad smile and his hand shoot up, you turned behind you seeing Xavier walk in with flowers and his sketchbook in hand. Both your parents stood up, your dad shaking his hand and your mom greeting him with a hug as he handed her the bouquet of flowers.

“I took some flowers to your room, I know it defeats the purpose of a surprise but I think you’ll still like it when you see it,” Xavier told you after greeting both of your parents sliding into the booth next to you. You set a kiss on his cheek, taking his hand in yours under the table. Your body language had shifted, something both your parents could visibly see. The moment he sat next to you, your body melted into his, fusing to be one if it were possible. They had asked you both questions about school and the relationship, learning about both Xavier but also you again. 

“Your dad and I met at Nevermore.” Your mother had spoken after everyone had a comfortable moment of silence once your drinks were dropped off, food eaten and your father and Xavier had both gone to the front, a friendly conversation of Xavier offering to pay and your dad refusing to allow though both of them had cash in hand standing at the register. “I think you and I are similar in that aspect.” She continued making you take your attention off of your father and boyfriend and give it to her. “You look at him with so much love, the same way I looked and still look at your dad.”

“How could I not?” You asked, “He draws me….and they’re beautiful, he…he is so respectful mom, hasn’t brought up sex once.” You spoke, resting your chin in your palm as you thought about him. Your mom smiled copying your actions, her eyes asking you to tell her more. “Every morning he walks me down to breakfast and if I’m not feeling good it’s like he already knows and he’s bringing me something to my dorm. He doesn’t yell at me even when I know I’ve upset him, he’s so understanding and caring and…and he loves me.” You kept going, getting ready to speak again when you felt an arm move behind your waist, and Xaviers' body heat sat next to yours. 

“(Y/N) tells me that your art is better than I could imagine.” Your mom said to Xavier, once both men were sat back down again, Xavier smiled nodding as he opened his sketchbook. This wasn’t his usual pick to just sketch in and you knew that, it took you a moment but the shock on your face when you realized. A few months ago Xavier had asked if he started to sketch you if it would be okay if he had a designated place for it and you had told him of course. So when he brought a new sketchbook and started to fill the pages with you, you had just thought it was an adorable gesture, he had only shown you select ones for multiple reasons one being because the day Xavier could propose to you he wanted to give you this, his deepest thoughts of you, the good and the bad and the sexual, everything was all in here, the words he couldn’t say the ones that were too hard to say. Xavier opened to a specific page pretty early in the book before sliding it to your parents. Your dad had looked confused but your mother knew just by seeing this that maybe you were a bit more like your dad than she had thought. She had fallen for your father easily, effortlessly even and he not to say it was hard for him but he was oblivious for a while before the dots connected. Your mother was looking at the first time you all had met Xavier, you stood between your parents bashful, cheeks red as you stretched out a hand to shake his. 

“I drew this not too long after we met.” He spoke, his eyes looking over at you before sliding the drawing over for you to look at. You took in the image, it was slightly different than most of his work of you now,  but still as beautiful as ever.

 “I thought you had only bought the journal two months ago?” You asked him softly, your eyes trained on the drawing looking at how perfectly he had captured you and your parents. 

“Two months ago I asked you if you would find it weird if I had a journal full of sketches of you.” Xavier corrected, making your eyes shoot up to look at him.

Parent Weekend had been a success, your parents loved him, almost more than you. Both of them swapped numbers with Xavier in case of an emergency or if he ever needed anything, if anything was ever wrong with you. You were sitting in the shed taking down your developed pictures, Xavier had told you he’d come by when you were done with food so as to not distract your process of needing the shed dark for your images to come out. You had texted him twenty minutes ago letting him know you were finishing up and in need of him. He walked in, a bag of food in one hand and a blazer in the other. 

“Stay there.” You told him, looking at the confused face he made as you picked up your camera, snapping a photo or two of him. Slowly moving the camera away from your face, he could see the look you had. “You’re so pretty it hurts.” You spoke making him smile. He closed the door behind him as he sat everything down making his way over to you. 

“If me being pretty hurt then I might as well be six feet under with the pain your beauty has caused me,” Xavier spoke, voice raspy as both his hands took yours pulling you up, he dipped down capturing your lips on his, one hand holding onto your waist as he used the other hand to bring both of your arms around his neck. He lifted you up, helping you wrap your legs around him. When he pulled away from the kiss, you were lost for words, how do you go about something like this? Being loved unconditionally? Being cared for and about in every way possible?

“Baby…I’m yours, I’ve prayed for someone like you.” You told him softly, your thumb caressing his cheek as you pecked his lips. 

“I was so nervous meeting your parents.” He finally confessed, setting you on your makeshift desk, standing between your legs both hands resting on your thighs. “I stumbled over my words when I was alone with your dad at the counter, I was like this is his chance to tell me to leave you the hell alone.” He continued as he rubbed circles into your legs.

“They’d never.” You assured playing with his hair, the kisses never stopping. “The food is going to get cold.” You told him when he kissed your neck and shoulder.

“Let it.” He said simply, capturing your lips once more, “I’m yours.” He whispered against your lips.

Tag List: @alessioayla

[princezukohere]

Golden Hour

Golden Hour

Xavier Thorpe X Reader

1.5K words

Not requested

Requests Open

Set before Wednesdays arrival

warnings: none i can think of, Xavier maybe ooc??? Tone of fluff

SFW/FLUFF//18+ ACCOUNT

I haven’t written for awhile but I kept having this play in my head as I was listening to Golden Hour which is ofc what this fic is based off of so if this is shit am very sorry but hope you all enjoy the fluffy Xavier 

Falling in love wasn’t a foreign concept, Xavier could always imagine one day meeting the one and it would just be that. Simply Falling. That’s what he thought he got with Bianca and that turned out to be what he thought being in love was. The concept of giving up after a failed love was a concept Xavier refused to believe in. Then there was you. He had met you over the summer due to Principal Weems's request, you’d be attending at the beginning of the year and after hearing about your infatuation with art she decided to pair you with Xavier, something along the lines of a new friend, that way you’d have a familiar face when the semester started. 

The idea of falling in love seemed so simple as the summer progressed, a few meet-ups turned into daily texts which turned into late-night phone calls that could only lead to only being able to sleep if the other was on the phone. The stars aligned when you two were together.  Could a soul mate truly be this simple? Where was the universe to come crashing down a reality that this was only real now, it was a honeymoon phase and it would end sooner than later, but with you, it didn’t feel like that. With Xavier, everything was simple. With you everything made sense.

Once the semester started, you weren’t too far behind Xavier, he showed you everything, making sure that you would be prepared in case he wasn’t able to help you find where you needed to go. Introducing you to his friends, just students in general, and taking you to his most sacred art shack. Declaring that this was yalls spot, to enjoy the company of one another, to escape reality when needed, and at that moment, with the simple look you gave him, everything connected for Xavier. You were it for him, no matter how old he may be, no matter what people might say, in that moment he wanted to give you anything you could ask for. He wanted to be the reason that, that look you had on your face continued to exist. 

Xavier had cleared out a nice section for you to turn into your area, he watched as you decorated the area, bringing some tables together to make a desk, and bringing your cameras and journals in. As you took pictures of Xavier he was painting portraits of you, both of you coming to the shed to work on your respective crafts always getting the most open and honest input from the other. One night you and Xavier had left a session with the potheads of the campus breaking curfew to head to the shed, wanting to just escape and be with one another. You two were sat across from one another, music playing in the background as he was sketching and you were jotting down thoughts about a report you had found interesting. “Reporter girl?” Xavier had spoken after an hour of comfortable silence. You looked up at him a sly smile forming on your face, clearing your throat before speaking. 

“Painter baby, you could be the muse, I'm the reporter baby, you could be the news” You quoted, a song you had heard Enid playing as she walked around campus constantly. Xavier smirked looking back down at the sketch he was doing, this one he wouldn’t ask you about, this one he wanted to turn into a painting, a surprise for you of course. Closing his journal he crossed over sitting next to you, letting his head rest between your neck and shoulder, shifting you so your legs were now on his and he could pull you into his side. 

“Break?” He asked so gently, you could only nod setting your things down. Reaching over pulling the blanket, Xavier had brought for you in case you got cold in the shed, over so you could cover the two of you. Xavier lifted his head so he could look down at you, a smile on his face. The look he had, the look he saved just for you made your heart race…butterflies fill your stomach, you wanted to save that look, reserve it for yourself, because no matter what anyone could ever say, no matter how young you may be, Xavier was it for you. You were sure of it.

Xavier had asked you to meet him in the shed during lunch today, saying he had something he wanted to show you. You knew he had been working on a new piece, telling you that this one was reserved for his eyes until he perfected it and you respected it. Xavier was a brilliant artist and you knew to no matter what he made it would come out better than perfect and you were willing to wait to see what it could be. You always remembered as a kid when you were excited about something time seemed to drag on for what felt like an eternity but knowing that there was something Xavier wanted you to see seemed to make the hours in the day speed by. Heading to the shed while everyone else was getting their food, you made sure to grab something for both you and Xavier to eat while being out for what could possibly be the rest of the day. 

You set the bags on the floor next to your space, watching Xavier cautiously as he looked at the white cloth draped over a rather large portrait that was now sitting in the middle of the shed. 

“Xavier.” You spoke softly walking over to him and wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sure this is one of the best paintings you’ve ever created. You never have to be nervous to show me one.” You told him, before kissing both his arms. Xavier nodded as he walked over to the portrait, holding the cloth in both hands. 

“Close your eyes.” He told you, and you did as he wished, shutting your eyes tightly, feeling all of Xvaiers nerves in your own body. You could hear the sound of the cloth being pulled off, opening your eyes when Xavier told you to. Your eyes went wide watching as he brought his painting to life, his painting of you in your favorite yellow sundress working in your space in the shed. Everything started to slow down as the portrait version of you looked up the most loving smile looking back at you before it freezes into that expression. A beautiful portrait of you.

“I don’t look like that.” You told him softly, he scrunched his eyebrows looking at you and then at the portrait, it was the same thing.

“Of course you do.” He told you, confusion evident in his voice.

“Xavier I’m flattered but that…that’s too beautiful to be me.” You told him, making his expression soften. He held out his hand for you, pulling you towards him. 

“My art doesn’t lie, that beautiful image in the portrait is what I see every time I look at you, what everyone sees when they look at you,” Xavier told you, his voice gentle and soft as he brought his lips down to yours to give you a kiss that matched his words. “Let me show you again but from my point of you,” Xavier told you as he wrapped an arm around you so you could both see the painting bringing it to life once again. 

“You see how it’s dark outside in the portrait but you’re still glowing?” He asked, you nodded turning your head slightly to look up at him. “I don't need no light to see you shine,” Xavier said, his gaze dropping down to yours. You held it for a moment before looking back at the portrait, “Then here you get startled and that’s when everything starts to slow down, this day, I remember this from memory, I was watching you work, thinking how beautiful you looked even while frantically working.” Xavier told you clearing his throat knowing how weird it sounds to say you were just watching someone, let alone his girlfriend. “I leaned forward because I was getting ready to call out your name and I knocked over one of my easels and you squealed before turning to look at me and I swear everything was in slow motion, and the look you gave me, that look is this one right here.” He told you the painting coming to a halt once more, “Can you even imagine? Fallin' like I did for the love of my life?” He asked, My angel of light….My radiant beam in the night. I don't need no light to see you shine.” Xavier continued turning you around to look at him, “Every hour of every day…. It's your golden hour. You slow down time,  In your golden hour.” He whispered his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes closed as you soaked in his words. Xavier Thorpe is it for you.

[princezukohere]

You mean to tell me some of you watched that scene with Chrissy in the woods and didn’t take away that Eddie liked her? That man was smitten. Then the rest of you didn’t see how he kept flirting with Steve??

The argument of whether Eddie is straight or gay is invalid because come on that man is a pansexual.

And no, you can not change my mind.

[princezukohere]

[princezukohere]

not to oversimplify an extremely complex discipline but if i had to pick one tip to give people on how to have more productive interactions with children, especially in an instructive sense, its that teaching a kid well is a lot more like improv than it is like error correction and you should always work on minimizing the amount of ‘no, wrong’ and maximizing the amount of ‘yes, and?’ for example: we have a species of fish at the aquarium that looks a lot like a tiny pufferfish. children are constantly either asking us if that’s what they are, or confidently telling us that’s what they are. if you rush to correct them, you risk completely severing their interest in the situation, because 1. kids don’t like to engage with adults who make them feel bad and 2. they were excited because pufferfish are interesting, and you have not given them any reason to be invested in non-pufferfish. Instead, if you say something like “It looks a LOT like a tiny pufferfish, you’re right. But these guys are even funnier. Wanna know what they’re called?” you have primed them perfectly for the delightful truth of the Pacific Spiny Lumpsucker