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#( visage ) / ✦ i look in the mirror and i try to see myself .
eiiskonigin · 1 year
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no but Winter in casual wear...? bitch get another color ( picrew !! )
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wishfulfilled · 1 year
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「tomie vaunt」
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“Do you really think you’ll stumble on another girl as beautiful as I?”
“But compared to my beauty you’re not even on the scale.”
“Surely those blessed with beauty such as mine have a responsibility to record it before it slips away forever.”
“You think this silly thing captures even a tenth of my beauty?”
“This is just the start of how pretty i can get.”
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my beauty is beyond human comprehension, even though people desperately want to capture it thru music, paintings and sculptures. when people see me they want to decide their entire life to try to encapsulate my allure, gracefulness and magnetic aura. to no avail, i cannot be copied, even the greatest artists wouldn’t be able to even come close to replicating my enchanting, dreamy and surreal visage.
i love myself so much i could look in the mirror for hours on end. absolutely no one and nothing can compare to me. i am prettier then all of the stars in the sky combined, even more beautiful then the most perfect scenery god has bestowed upon earth. it’s like i come from another planet, another universe. no, surely someone as perfect as me must be a gift from god straight from heaven.
i value myself highly and never underestimate myself because i know how powerful i am. i know that i am intelligent, strong and perfect in every possible way. i am very respected and my presence is intimidating, hypnotising and absolutely unforgettable. my aura is intoxicating, addicting and i am not afraid of being myself and i know that everyday i keep evolving and improving mentally, spiritually and emotionally. my personality is extremely charming and people are naturally attracted to me. i only need my own validation.
once people see me they are unable to forget me, people trip over their feet to try and compliment me. when they finally approach me they are so in awe of how even more perfect i am when up close that they suddenly are at a loss of words. people constantly shower me with gifts, write poems about their undeniable love for me and yet it seems like they believe that they will never be able to express their undying love no matter what they do.
when someone looks at me it feels all though all their problems and worries suddenly washed away and they cannot think about anything else then me and how to make me happy. when i give someone even the slightest bit of attention they get filled with bliss, gratefulness. but it’s expected i mean i am completely irresistible and my beauty is undefinable.
no one and nothing can ever compare to me. it simply isn’t possible to surpass my level of knowledge, allure and everything comes so easy for me, it’s like everything is rigged in my favour and i truly don’t have to put in any effort, everything falls into place for me while i just exist being my perfect self. i am healthy, protected and i only have positive experiences. i know myself and i am secure with who i really am, i always get opportunities that lead me to fulfilling my dreams.
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wakeup01 · 4 months
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The Shorts, Like, Maketh The Man
The black shorts were just laying there, hanging off the empty bench. I know, I know. But I wasn’t usually the type to pick up sweaty used clothing in the street, but there was something drawing me to them. Calling out to me. They weren’t really my style even, clearly gym shorts for the sort of person who spends at least an hour a day looking in the mirror. I’d never even set foot in a gym. But still, they were…nice. The polyester material felt good in my hand. Silky. There was clearly some text on the back of them but I was too excited to bother reading it. Maybe I could have them? It didn’t seem like the owner wanted them anymore anyway. I look around for any onlookers and quietly take them, stuffing them away in my pocket.
I wanted to try them on. Needed to. Finding a secluded area, I remove my trousers and pull the smooth fabric up my unimpressive legs. They felt incredibly good around my waist, like they were made for me. There was a warmth radiating from them. Mmff. They seem to press against…all the right places. Clinging to my skin. I catch myself letting out a soft moan, my face blushing red at hearing the sound. Maybe I should take them off, it would be weird to walk home in someone else’s—someone…some..one. Mine. They were my shorts. I leave the baggy trousers behind and step out into the street, an extra boost of confidence in my step.
While I’m walking my body feels slightly off, as if my weight distribution had shifted. Each foot forward felt heavier, stronger. People start to turn and gaze at me. I catch a glimpse of my chunky arms; were they always that veiny? Huh. I see my reflection strutting in a shop window and freeze on the spot. What on earth? There was a completely different person staring back at me. He was sexy as all hell. I looked like a utter gymrat. I touch my sharp, smooth jaw and run my fingers over my harsh buzzed hair. The visage in the reflection copies my exact movements, a large, self assured smirk set on their face. Curious, I lift the hem of my t-shirt. Woah! I was completely jacked! You could sharpen a blade on these abs.
Somehow I had gained pounds of lean muscle in a matter of minutes and my skin had been tanned a luscious golden hue. Certainly, I wasn’t about to complain about this turn of events. Maybe I should pick up discarded clothes more often!
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Fuck, my body was li—like, fit. Just check it out. I pull out my phone and take a selfie. Okay. Maybe several selfies. Fine, maybe it was a couple dozen. Who gives a fuck when you look this hot. I didn’t even care about the pedestrians walking past and staring. They SHOULD stare. Admire this prize. This TROPHY. I was in peak form from head to toe. The shiny shorts accentuated my thick, meaty legs perfectly.
My eyes suddenly catch the time on my phone, pulling me out of my shameless self obsession. Damn, at this rate I was gonna be late for Daddy. Wait. Daddy? That’s not right, I wasn’t…
Ugh. My mind felt all jumbled up, like a finished jigsaw puzzle suddenly dropped to the floor. Pieces scattered. It was…I needed to…Daddy! Like, of course. After all, I was just a trophy boy. HIS trophy. An accessory for him to show off. Sculpting my body just how daddy likes it; my muscles existed for his enjoyment. Not that I didn’t enjoy them too…hmm.
My head hurt. Fuck. Was that right? No, I couldn’t be just some brainless boy toy. Now it made sense why the owner abandoned these damn shorts. Shit, It was altering my mind. I was becoming…I needed to remove these—mmff. But right then I feel the shorts squeeze on my bulge. It felt incredible! I shouldn’t, but I never, like, you know, wanted it to stop. My sensitive cock pulsed, thickening while stretching across the fabric. Ahhh! I grin inanely as pre drips down my leg. Like, yeah. Da—daddy loved his boy all hard. He loved when I did as he instructed. A pretty plastic toy to pose and play with. I was so proud to be his. Yes, I was his; body and mind. Like, how did I forget? I can be such an air-headed ditz sometimes. It’s a good thing Daddy also likes his twunky boys dumb; dumb, vapid and full of cum. I was good at those things. Huhuhuh.
I turn around - biting my lip - and look at my tight rear. The shorts thin fabric was digging between the two round globes. ‘Daddy’s Trophy’ was emblazoned on the back, across my cheeks. Mmff. I give my butt a light slap and watch it jiggle. I happily let out a pleasurable moan; it made me feel nice that everyone would know what I am. Explaining it was like, soo difficult and stuff. Daddy says I shouldn’t stress my pretty little head over such complex things. Uhhh. Anyway, these shorts were his favourite, all his boys wore them. He loved watching me dutifully clean the house in them. Or working out in them. Or obediently fucking him in them. Or being fucked…bouncing on his lap.
Oh right! I just remembered! I was supposed to meet him. Sir wanted to finalise our arrangement, there was one last thing to change before I could sign that dull agreement. His trophy boys were always blond. Blond and basic. Huhu. Just like I was about to be.
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mayflysdie · 9 months
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Pub drama-Soap Mactavish
{Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, language}
~Soap accompanies you to a pub, where you're celebrating your friends birthday.
A/N: a friend req this so here we are. ( I feel like all I've done is Angsty fics, where the MC always gets in trouble. but that will change soon)
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we gathered at a local pub for my friends birthday, we sit at a booth, eagerly awaiting the arrival of everyone. i stare at Soap, his fashionable ensemble – black jeans and a grey t-shirt. On the other hand, I have chosen to adorn a dainty black silk spaghetti strap dress with a subtle slit running up the side till reaching just beyond my hip. my wavy black hair tied into a messy bun atop my head. “hm, if i didn't know any better lass, i’d say you’re trying to seduce me” Soap says, barely loud enough to hear over the thundering music. 
i laugh, shaking my head. “You say that daily. i could be wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater and you would still ask that question". He chuckles, leaning back into the booth, never averting his eyes from my form. The dancing lights in the background illuminating his gaze and providing me with a captivating visage.
My heart is filled with joy as I look at the man I adore. "I love you, you goofball," I say with a grin, watching as he sends me a wink in response. I'm about to tease him some more when I notice my girls walking towards us. Quickly, I stand up and embrace the birthday girl, a huge smile on my face. “Happy birthday vinnie!” i all but shout in her ear. which is probably another reason me and Soap get along so well- we’re both loud. she giggles in response, hugging me.
she pulls away and almost instantly drags us to the bar, the other girls following close behind. “shots! seven trays please, none of these bitches are walking out sober”she shouts at the bartender, who laughs at her display. i roll my eyes, not entirely wanting to get drunk but heck it, Soap is with me. 
i cast a glance his way, noting how his eyes were already glued to me.I smile and give a swift twist of the head when the trays, carrying six shots each as well as the additional martini's my companion requested, are placed in front of us. “ to Vinnie!” we chant before taking the shots. i nearly cough from the burn, wiping my mouth of the alcohol dripping down my chin. i smile sheepishly at Vinnie, who laughs at me. 
four hours in and i can barely form a thought, dancing with Vinnie on the dance floor. the rest of the girls tapped out an hour ago, saying they felt the building spin in the universe. 
“hey, i gotta pee” Vinnie slurs, grabbing my hand and making for the ladies room. i wobbly follow behind, trying to focus on which foot goes next. We enter the bathroom and she hastily scurries towards the lavatory - I follow suit, bracing myself against the sink. She begins to chuckle from within the stall, evidently entertained by the comical drawing of a penis on the wall. I roll my eyes in response. i stare at myself in the mirror, my face slap red from the amount of alcohol, it’s almost laughable.
i hear a thud behind me, and turn around to see Vinnie stumble out of the stall, nearly falling face first into the sink. “girl, be careful” i scold lightly, like a mother would her child. she simply grins up at me, too drunk to comprehend my words. "Nyla, such a worry wort" she mumbles drunkenly.
after assisting her in washing her hands, we walk hand in hand out of the bathroom, and only then do i notice how far down the hall it is from the bar, from Soap.
the dim lights flicker in the hallway, giving an eerie feeling to my already uneasy mind. we make it about a quarter way down the hall when Vinnie's hand is suddenly yanked out of mine. i spin around, wobbling as i do so. to see a nasty looking man holding her by the neck and waist. my anger rises, “what the fuck!” i exclaim. i go to take a step forward, when arms creep around my waist, pulling me flush against what i can only assume is the body of a man. “hey hey, don't be harsh. we’re only looking for some fun” the man whispers in my ear, sending a chill down my spine.
where is Soap’s helicopter ass when i need him. i silently curse.
when i thrash in the mans hold, he grips me tighter, moving a hand to my mouth and my eyes widen in fear. I observed Vinnie as she forcefully kicked her assailant's legs, resulting in them losing their grasp on her; she bolted free. I chomp down hard on the man's hand which was covering my mouth, removing a segment of flesh.
He swiftly pulled back his arm, however shockingly kept his hold around my midsection firm, so intense that I couldn't break away. I glance in the direction of Vinnie and give my head a sorrowful shake, the fear evident in my eyes. "get Soap!" I shout, and she immediately takes off, running at such a pace that she disappears down the hallway quicker than a flash. okay, Soap will be here soon, i just need to distract them.
And i do just that-using the arms around my waist to my advantage, I thrust my legs up, sending a powerful kick to the chest of the man standing before me. He is thrown back, desperately trying to regain breath.
my head is suddenly yanked back, and view of my attacker is looming mere inches from my face. “ you’re a real bitch, huh”he grunts. slamming my face into the wall, i grunt as my face ignites with a flood of pain. he loosens his grip momentarily, giving me enough time to spin around, Before I could even think, my fist met his nose with a sickening crunch.
He crashed to the floor, clutching his face in pain. I can hear swift footfalls drawing nearer, so turning around to get a glimpse of the source, I behold an infuriated Soap accompanied by a weeping Vinnie. I found myself flashing an elated yet perhaps unnerving grin, considering the blood-stained corners of my mouth.
Soap comes to a halt inches from me, taking my face in his hands. “are you okay?” his tone is filled with worry, and controlled rage. i nod my head, smiling to reassure him. “yeah, though i’m pissed off, actually. how dare they touch Vinnie and me” I rant, turning around to send a last, swift kick into the ribs of the man behind me. Soap pulls me away gently as security runs up. “let’s get ya cleaned, ya? you look positively rabid bon” i laugh and agree. i grab Vinnie's hand, clutching tightly. 
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bonus part-
all of 141 gathered around the watch the footage Soap took from the pub. he pressed play on the computer, watching with baited breath. he hears Gaz gasp behind him as they watch the man snatch Vinnie, then Nyla. Ghost squints and leans closer as Nyla raises her legs and kicks the other man, sending him flying into the opposite wall. Price whistles, a proud smirk on his face.
once the video finishes, Soap leans back in his chair, torn between feeling proud and absolutely livid.
"got yourself an mma fighter, huh" Gaz teases. Soap sends him a look, "the lass was piss drunk. I'm both amazed and terrified." Soap grumbles, crossing his arms. His eyes glancing at Ghost, who, has watched the video three times now. " are you sure there isn't something she's hiding from you? if she was as drunk as you say, her movements seem suspicious" Ghost says with caution.
Soap simply smiles and shakes his head, "known the lass since fourth grade, there's nothin' I don know about her"
Gaz sends a worried glance his way, "stalker much?" he adds, sounding slightly concerned.
Soap smiles, not confirming or denying it.
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chickenparm · 11 months
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Hmmmmm i would like to request reader proposing to kaveh from kavehs point if view pwitty pwease 😘
ha ha okay i got a little goofy with it, enjoy. thanks for the request! :^)
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Kaveh/gn!Reader 885 Words - SFW
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Though it's Kaveh whose fingertips trace along your skin, he is the one with goosebumps. It's not from any chilliness in the air - it's the dog days of Summer in Sumeru - nor is it from any sensation he is experiencing physically.
Though, it wouldn't be the first time that he's felt every one of his nerves tingling at the feeling of you in his arms.
But this time, it's simply a feeling in the air itself. A quiet sort of contemplation that emanates from you as the two of you finally regain your breath and lay in one another's arms, skin against skin. Rather than nuzzle your face into his neck as per usual, your eyes are instead trained toward the ceiling in a vacant expression indicating your distraction.
At the beginning of things, when his relationship with you was fresh and new, Kaveh might have tried to pry. A few questions to try and get you to voice your thoughts before they were ready. But time has tempered his patience when it comes to your stream of consciousness, and Kaveh has come to understand that given enough time, you'll tell him what he needs to know.
Rolling a bit to prop his head on his hand, elbow against the pillows, he looks down at you. Not expectantly or anything of the sort - it's simply admiration. The line of your throat bobs, your eyelashes brush against your cheeks as you blink, your lips swollen from his kisses that may have been a little too amorous today. At his movement, your eyes snap from the ceiling above to his own visage, and your distraction is melted away with a little smile and an inhale before you speak.
"What are you doing tomorrow?"
It's a silly question, and Kaveh hesitates for a moment, wondering if it's a joke. Tomorrow is your anniversary, and you're well aware that the two of you planned on spending it at home doing absolutely nothing at all together. Either a nice dinner cooked here, or some takeout, nothing concrete. But ultimately, it's a busy day with you.
When Kaveh doesn't answer right away, you take that as an answer in itself, and continue, "I've got a fun idea, if you're interested."
"I'm always interested." Kaveh answers on instinct. As if he wouldn't follow you to the ends of Teyvat. Like he isn't completely wrapped around your finger, entirely willing.
Your eyes turn to the ceiling, your cheek shifting as you chew on it. Indecision, he recognizes, and once more he draws on patience to let you work through whatever it is that's going on in your head. Maybe you think he won't like it, or he'll say no, or perhaps it's something so ridiculous that you're just now embarrassed to-
"Let's go to the Akademiya tomorrow and file some paperwork."
"Paperwork? And risk seeing Alhaitham on my day off? Sorry, darling, I'm not sure that's something I want to subject myself to, even for you."
Mirroring his position, you roll onto your side and prop yourself on your elbow, an unreadable expression on your face. Or, he notes it as false confidence, but the root cause is a mystery... for only a moment.
"Even if it's marriage paperwork?"
"What?"
Kaveh knows what that means at its base level, of course. Paperwork to apply for a marriage license, to legally unite two people. One summer, he did a short stint in the legal archives of the House of Daena and took on the task of reorganizing such files for some extracurricular credits. But what purpose could any of that serve, unless... "You want to get married? To me?"
"No, to Tighnari. Yes, to you, silly man. If you want to, of course. No pressure or anything, if that's not something you want, it's not like I'll hold it against you-"
"Okay, I'm offended you think I'd say no." Kaveh gripes, blowing out a breath to push a strand of hair from his face before sitting up completely. "Secondly, I'm upset that you mentioned it before I could. I had this whole plan laid out, I even convinced Alhaitham to help. Alhaitham. Do you know what I had to bargain just to get him to even listen, much less participate?"
"Wait, seriously?"
"Yes! Alhaitham was supposed to come by tomorrow with this convoluted request for us and it would derail our whole day until the end when I would-... Ugh, never mind. He'll just be happy he doesn't have to do it anymore." Kaveh pinches the bridge of his nose just for a moment to gather his thoughts, and continues in a softer tone, "So, I take it you would have said yes? If things went how I planned?"
"I'm offended you think I'd say no." You parrot back, and barely a beat goes by before Kaveh's fingers are curled a little too tightly around the back of your neck to hold you still as he descends upon your lips with far more ardor than he's ever shown before.
A flash of copper blooms on your tongue for a moment at the force of it, but all you can do is laugh as he pulls back, then gives you another and another to drown you in kisses between his words. "Yes... we'll... go... tomorrow!"
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wisteria-prompts · 10 months
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Hi! It says your requests are open. May I request giyuu x fem reader comfort? Specifically comfort for body hair. I’m afab but I have more body hair than a lot of men I know and it makes me feel really disgusting and un-feminine. Could you write something where he comforts her about it because she’s afraid he’ll think she’s nasty and won’t be intimate with her?
feel free to ignore if you aren’t comfortable with it
thank you have a good day<3
Sorry that this is a little short, I didn't feel like this kind of prompt would fit into a longer drabble than this. Hopefully the bonus HC's make up for it.
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Giyuu Tomioka x Fem!Reader W/ Body Hair
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“I’m covered in body hair.” You say one day, entirely out of the blue, as you stare at yourself in the mirror. 
“What?” You hear Giyuu quietly question from his place across the room from you, rummaging through the closet as he looks for a fresh uniform to wear. You look behind you in the mirror at him, your self-conscious gaze unable to bear looking at yourself anymore.
“Y’know. It’s like, a lot more than other girls...” You say, stuttering a little as you wait for his reaction. You can only see him turn to you, uniform folded in his hands with his usual countenance in place. You fear you haven’t explained this enough for him. 
“...And?”
You stare at him as if he grew three heads, finally facing him without the mirror.
“And, it’s hideous! I mean, aren’t you at least a little disgusted by it?” You scrunch up your nose as you bring up your arm, which exemplifies the body hair you find yourself at constant odds with. Giyuu just looks at it with the world’s most unimpressed stare, not a single muscle moving on his face. He looks back up at your own visage, closing the distance between you with confident strides.
“No.” He says simply, taking your arm and pressing a chaste kiss to it. He doesn’t seem bothered by the thick hairs touching his lips at all, and it confuses you as much as it does give you butterflies in your stomach.
“There is no part of you that I find myself disgusted by. It’s simply impossible.” And he says it with such resolution that it makes your heart ache. Your brows furrow, trying to fight back sudden tears that prick at your eyes. You’d been holding in these insecurities for so long, and to have them just batted away like that by the love of your life is…Well, it’s cathartic in a way.
“...You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, right?” You hesitantly question, looking at him for any indication that he’s lying. Even though you know he wouldn’t. 
“Of course not.” Giyuu says, and suddenly he’s closer than you remember him being. His lips are right next to your ear, breath warm, and his hair tickles your skin where it drapes over it. “Would you like me to show you just how attractive you are, hair and all?” 
The way his voice dips has your knees feeling like jelly, and you can’t nod fast enough.
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He truly does not mind any amount of body hair on his partner, it's just not something he cares about or puts stock into. It's entirely up to his partner's preference what they do with their hair, or lackthereof.
He does, however, find himself noticing said details about you in general. It's probably something he noticed long before you became insecure about it in regards to him- But again, it doesn't matter to him. It's just something that's there.
He personally doesn't have much body hair on himself, but would never place that expectation onto you. He truly thinks you're perfect just as you are, and is willing to go to any lengths to prove that to you.
Will kiss the parts you're most insecure about, in an attempt to soothe those anxieties and fears.
If it's truly something that bothers you though, he will help you shave anywhere you need help with. He ends up integrating it into his "Y/N Care Package" that he ends up forming shortly after you two turn intimate, where his aftercare turns up a notch and becomes like a second body worship session.
If you don't want to shave, that's perfectly fine with him too. He supports your decisions 100%!
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slasherlouvre · 2 years
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thinking about the essay really messed/is messing me up, having mean thoughts about myself and that inevitably bleeds over into my usually supposed to be comforting daydreams and fantasies
my brain loves to tell me that Bo would think I'm pathetic and a waste of resources lmao
that Vincent would either not think I'm pretty at all or grow bored with me
and Lester also just lose interest (people always do)
+ just general annoyance/irritation about me doing hardly anything and needing meds
I'm tired and one have like 1.5 hours left
This could not be further from the truth, love. I'm gonna be a real hypocrite right now because I have the same exact bitch of a brain, but:
Open for some Sinclair self-love reminders 🖤
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Bo thinking you're pathetic??? A waste of resources???? That's never even once crossed his mind. He'd literally kill someone if he ever heard that being said to you, hell, he'd even die for you without a second thought because you mean that much to him.
Expectations can be unfair, and life can be overwhelming- no one knows that better than him, so he also knows how admirable you truly are.
You're nothing like him. You're strong, and you've kept your kindness despite it all. Maybe you've stumbled along the way, been shoved around- everyone has, often even, but you've never completely given up. You're resilient in a way he never could be. And he knows you struggle to see that, the same way he struggles to see anything worthwhile in himself.
Sometimes it's hard for him to be verbally vulnerable with you, he's working on it, but he loves you. I mean he really loves you. He could spend his whole damn life trying to put what you mean to him in words, and it still wouldn't be enough.
Please treat yourself with the same loving patience you've always had for him. You're not pathetic for being tired and wanting someone to lean on. You're not pathetic for doing things at your own pace. You're not a waste for just existing. You're human and he is so proud of you. If he has to remind you every damn day of that, he will. Don't ever forget how far you've come; it's okay to be proud of yourself too. You should be proud of yourself.
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Do you grow bored with the moon because you see it every night? Is it no longer beautiful on the nth time you look up to admire it?? Do you not consider all phases of the moon to be beautiful despite their distinctions???
To Vincent you are, and always will be, the most beautiful part of his life.
To have you choose to remain at his side evermore is a gift, not a boredom,- and certainly not a burden. Can't you see that your constancy only makes you cherished all the more?? That losing you would bring about the death of what you salvaged of his heart? He can no longer live without your light now that you've rooted yourself so deeply within him.
You are physically beautiful too. You are. There has never been a moment in which he's ever thought otherwise. It's simply not possible.
In a way, he understands how you feel. It took him a very long time to believe you genuinely loved him and were still attracted to him after seeing the real him beneath the mask. But unlike his prominently marred visage, he doesn't actually see any of the 'flaws' you think you have. He just sees you.
And you are what he loves. It's not possible for you to be anything less.
Please be kinder to yourself when you look in the mirror. If you have to, look at yourself with his eyes in mind. Don't treat what he loves so cruelly, especially when you'd never fault him if he were to have the same traits.
What you look like doesn't make you unlovable; beauty has never been singular in its definition despite what anyone may try to make you think. You've proven it yourself by loving him, haven't you?
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Lester losing interest in you?? He'd honestly laugh loudly thinking it was a joke. And it is! The thought itself is ridiculous, don't you see?
People lose interest, but those people aren't Lester Sinclair.
He's been torn down with mean words and disgusted looks more times than he can count ever since he was a kid, so he never actually believed you'd choose him. But you did. And now you're the reason he can say it was all worth it in the end. A love like this only comes once in a lifetime as they say, and he was fully expecting it not to be in his lifetime. So it's no wonder he looks at you like you've personally hung the moon and the stars in the sky.
He could never lose interest in the love of his life; of the reason for his happiness, and favorite thing to come home to.
You do far more than you think, but even so, your worth is not measured by your productivity- or anyone's skewed social constructs. He's a roadkill driver, there are plenty of people who consider his work 'hardly anything'. Hell, they take one look at him and label him 'bottom of the barrel'. So he knows more than anyone that falling short of what others unfairly deem 'efficient' and 'deserving' doesn't make you meaningless. You taught him that, afterall.
There's nothing wrong with needing medication for your mental health; it's normal and important to take care of your brain just like any other part of your body when it needs some help. It doesn't make you any less of a person, and he could never be irritated or annoyed with you for it- he's far too admiring of you to be anything else, and he wants you to have the support you need.
You've always been understanding of him, so please give yourself that same gentle understanding. Is he stupid for making mistakes? A good-for-nothing because someone else said so? Pathetic for having bad dsys? No. And neither are you.
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luckkysinn · 2 years
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;; “SOFTLY LOVE.”
; words? ; 1.4k.
; warnings? ; none.
; genre? ; fluff.
; request? ; no.
; playlist link. ;
The basins of rivers of tears still stained her pink cheeks, drops glistening on the edges of her dark eyelashes like miniature diamonds. Her eyes had fallen closed, the bright hazy blue of her gaze obscured by slumber. Her hair was the color of coal, tumbling down over her shoulder, the airy and flowery scent of her shampoo clinging to my nose. She had fallen to the clutches of sleep not too long prior, her head falling gracelessly to rest on my shoulder. I didn’t mind the extra weight in the slightest, too enamored by the constellations her light dusting of freckles created across the bridge of her nose and over the ridge of her cheeks. I could nearly call myself an astronomer, with the swirls and galaxies I had grown to adore in her imperfections. The tiny scar on the line of her right jaw, barely noticeable unless you knew to look for it. The creases of smile lines, faint yet noticeable, framing her lips, from which only good things would spawn.
The breeze from the rooftop hardly bothered me, my attention pulled away. I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, the wind threatening to blow it back out of place. I had never known myself to be so gentle, yet my caresses were whisper soft. Trying my best not to wake her, I shifted, pulling the woven gray blanket tighter around us. She was leaning back against the arm I had staged behind her, her head rested on my shoulder. The position had her effectively tucked neatly into my side, our mutual warmth protecting us as the night grew cooler. Her chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost luring me after her into a dreamful state.
The sounds of distant cars from the streets far below acted as a lullaby for her, their harshness lost as the sound drifted upwards. Heavy clouds breached the crescent moon’s beam, casting moving shadows over her peaceful face. It had been a while since I’d seen her so calm. She held her stress in her eyes, her furrowed brows, an unconscious frown. It was so different to see not a hint of any negative emotion displayed on her face. We both had gotten used to a routine of being pushed to our breaking points, holding onto each other by an anxious thread. Now, however, the worries we shouldered were stolen by the night air, and we made no move to claim them back. The few twinkling stars that managed to push through the light pollution mirrored her visage, I could have sworn I saw the small ‘v’ shaped birthmark that was just under her eye in the vastness of the night above.
We had been planning an escape like this for quite some time now. A moment just to ourselves, without the raging fires of constant responsibility pressing down on us from all directions. Neither of us could manage to get away, strung up too tightly in promises to others and oaths to ourselves. It was a small miracle we’d found a chance on a whim to climb to the flat top of our apartment building, having ‘borrowed’ the key from a security guard who’d misplaced his key ring. Access to the roof was limited and coveted, being one of the few places in the building that wasn’t swarming with activity all hours of the day.
Throwing our oldest blanket— one I had gifted to her on our first Christmas together — over her arm and tucking a cheap bottle of wine in my grip, she’d ushered me to the view, careful to make sure no one had seen us scamper up the uneven concrete steps. We sat on our coats, preferring to pull each other close under the depths of the soon-fraying blanket. Passing the bottle back and forth, we let our words flow like the wine that danced over our tongues, talking about anything and everything that came to mind. No pause dragged on for more than a few moments before it was interrupted with another stray thought or natural, unbridled laugh. Too cheap for proper glasses, we filled our mismatched and chipped porcelain mugs to the brims, the dark red liquid leaving stains on the edges.
Her voice had grown broken after the sun had begun to set, liquid threatening to spill over from her weary eyes and the bottle she swung back and forth, having long since passed the threshold of what emotions she could tuck away like stray belongings. Everything erupted, and she had clung to me as though I was her last constant, her north star. I made no move to quiet her, offering her the only thing I could bear to offer: stability. Her smooth and uncalloused hands had gripped the fabric of my shirt, her tears leaving dark imprints into my chest. The biting cold had tinged her cheeks and the tip of her nose pink, her fluster long forgotten in the bottom of the wine bottle.
Who was I to tell her to calm down? We had both stored up our emotions, telling ourselves that we’d handle them when we had an opening in our calendars, yet they remained forgotten, shoved down into the back of our minds. I had awkwardly pulled her into my side, rocking the both of us in a steady motion. My hands stroked over the expanse of her back, over the crest of her head, down the back of her neck, rubbing gentle and light lopsided circles into her hips with my thumbs. I took care to wipe the rest of her tears with the edge of my shirt, smiling and disagreeing when she said she looked bad with her almond-shaped eyes puffy and her makeup messy. To me, she looked nothing short of ethereal.
I caught myself silently hoping that she’d stay in her peaceful state, the sweeping of her dark lashes brushing over the round curve over her cheeks. She looked nearly like a doll, her skin glistening from the tears that had split, the nipping wind having cleared away any clamminess. Her skin looked nearly porcelain, the same as the now disregarded mugs, sat to the side and pressed to one another. I knew her neck would be cramped from the odd position she had fallen asleep in, her throat would be dry and aching from the tears. I knew that I’d be the one to offer her water, holding the thin bottle up to her pretty lips as she drank like she’d been wandering the desert for a millennia. I would be the one to brace her as we would stumble back down the stairs into our shared apartment, tugging off her shoes and laying her down in our bed. I would be the one to nurse her pounding head, to reassure her, to wipe her face with a cold cloth as she took to burying herself in the plush covers.
And I wouldn’t mind one bit.
There was no length I wouldn’t go to, to catch a meager glimpse of a smile across her features. Whether it be us dancing around our tiny kitchen to the stuttering sounds of our old radio singing Billie Holiday, lifting her to sit on the counter as I gave a warm kiss to her forehead, or spending a melancholy rainy day curled into each other, my head rested firmly in her lap as I listened to her melodic voice read me some old literature, I had no shortage of fond, happy memories with the girl sleeping on my shoulder. My free hand gently tugged at her outer thigh, pulling her closer to my embrace. I could never get close enough.
A soft, relaxed murmur left her as she shifted, reaching across her lap to clutch my hand in hers, an unconscious movement that had my heart racing and bounding. It was as if a slow, warm light filled me from the tips of my fingers, spreading from wherever our skin touched. It made me elated, the simple gesture of her leaning her weight into me. As I told my heart to calm its frantic pitter-patter, a comfortable peace settled over me, wrapping itself and the girl beside me in its loving clutch.
The tension I didn’t realize myself to be holding melted away from my bones, my head carefully leaning into hers. It wasn’t too cold out, it wouldn’t hurt to stay here for a few more minutes, right? Besides, I was relishing in the moment I knew would become a cherished memory. The moment in which I felt truly content.
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eiiskonigin · 1 year
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general tag drop
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he'd once heard that talking to plants would help them grow . although the notion seemed ridiculous to him , yone could still remember the way the wizened vegetable lady of his past life had insisted on the correctness of her gardening methods . look --- look at how well my harvest has grown . it's got you coming around every week , hasn't it ?
... surely there was nothing to lose from trying . when they die ( and to his pessimistic self it is a when , not an if ) , he can at least say he tried .
and so he does --- he talks to them --- in secret , and only out of earshot . just this once though , he lets his guard down and fails to realize robin has returned .
a sigh . ' ... it's yet to get easier , talking to myself like this . this sore lack of conversational skills in me may be doing more harm than good . shall i recite a poem instead for you all ? ... you all , hah ... very well . ' eyes slip shut , drawing verse from memory , but when he opens his eyes , he tenses when he realizes he's not alone .
more cute stuff pls 🤲 yone is 😳💀
═══ UNPROMPTED INTERACTIONS ═══ LEAGUE VERSE
Like that of a dandelion was his step, gentle and silent as he crossed through the deepening woods - careful not to step on anything besides the path of least resistance. How many times had he walked the same steps? Too many times to count… Loneliness was strange in that way, how it grasped its talons in and turned its sufferers into puppets, strings pulled every which way and settling into the other rhythm that brought joy. It was as constant as the sun setting and the moons rising, how the cicadas cried and how the same birds called their loved ones home. The mage had grown so accustomed to the sounds of the wood that he practically predicted each one; that was until that soft gait paused when another voice entered the swell.
Robin lowers his selenic gaze to the path infront of him as he listens to the soft, husky whispers of a familiar face - or well, the blurred visage of what he was quick to find out was less a beast, and more a man. His head tilted to the side and eventually swiveled towards the northernmost part of his garden…and he took that first step into the wild, untamed brush. Bending low around each branch he came to see Yone settled amongst his flowers, and not just any, a small pool the mage had dug that was now fluttering full of water lilies.
The flower Yone gifted him when he first arrived.
Two moons rimmed with verdant beauty watch the samurai from the shadows of the brush and he finds himself being drawn out by the soft recitation of poetry within his birth language. Ionian had such beautiful tones within, and while Robin could understand most, others were lost on him. The mage does not hesitate when Yone stops his words, and emerges from the forest with a rather relaxed gaze. It is…strange how foreign it looks on his face, those wintry lashes covering his stare as he comes close and lowers himself down to the grass beside him before reaching his hand out to the petals of the lilies. They flutter as though he had tickled them, and softly he recites a poem of his own.
A delightful tone leaves his lips as the melody of his words pour like sweet honey; his voice lacks the dexterity of Yone's when reciting the language, but its worship of the life infront of him rings forth with each syllable. The mage hardly notices when the fawn and doe approach their sides and two white mice peek from his cloak, one cautiously lifting its nose towards the samurai while the other settles close to Robin's pale hair. Once the final sigh leaves his lips he faces Yone, a look of realization coloring his cheeks a faint red whilst he turns from the man and retreats his hands from the flowers. And when he finally does return the stare, he focuses downward to Yone's nose, unaware that the moons within his eyes have turned to mirrors to reflect the setting sun, bright and powerful. His words tremble,
"P-Pardon my enthusiasm."
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lowlyroach · 11 months
Text
394) Who Sent You?
Something has to snap, right?
Is it my steadily declining psyche
You-
Yell at me
We stay at the creek
In the trunk
I bring you a smoothie
I don’t really touch mine,
Too busy staring at you.
You’re mad, you said over the phone
I smile as you ream into me
My self-destructive appetite
That forms so eagerly in your absence
How do I keep that at bay?
How do I make you stay?
Not your fault
It's not like it had ever gone away.
We stare at each other for a bit
Don’t say a word
So, who sent you?
You forgot the cards
So, we just talk afterward
About the tattoo shop
About Plunger, your old turtle
Who’s name I forgot
I only remembered it was silly
NOT AGAIN! I'LL REMEMBER!
We talk about my grandparents house
Want to stay there for a week, with me?
It’ll be like that Christmas where I wished to hold you
But never could
When I stared at the mirror
Wanting to materialize through it and find you
Christmas was for the ones we love
Why was I here, with family?
I only wanted to be with you
Maybe in the winter, huh
After your wedding
Keep making all our plans for the winter
I don't think you'll follow through
I think that's the plan, though
You want me to crush your hand
To punch it as hard as I can
To see how it feels
And you do the same but I
Can barely feel it
How can hands like those
Reduce me into nothing but a puddle?
I want to be absorbed into you
Like water into sand
Build a castle with me, won’t you?
Tell me, who the hell sent you?
Oh, how do I explain the roller coaster
Of my butterflies
As you treat me like a dog
Pinch my ear and pull my cheek
Push my chin to the side
Oh I want to collapse, I feel so weak
Grab my hair like you did before
Such wonderful hands I gasp for more
I soar! I soar!
Why am I so into everything you do?
I want to kiss you
You want to slap me harder
I tell you to do it
So, we practice
Rubbing my thumb provocatively
Driving me crazy
When I catch your throat in my hand
You always lick your lips
I stare at your tongue when you do
Press my thumb to your mouth
You smile
Barely open it and hesitate
Tease me without meaning too
I love those teeth
That smile is heavenly
I’ll tease you back
Massaging your thighs
Watch as your eyes flutter
Your hands grasp the air with frustration
Teach you patience
Good girl.
I can feel the heat through the body suit
As I move further up
Then-
Around
Never too close
Only for a moment
Will I press up against you
My finger teasing
“That feels way better”
Than what?
I should’ve asked what you meant
Instead, I indulge in your pleasure
You are at my mercy
I delight in your beauty
You tentatively show me how wet you are
Enticed I want to hold you to me
This sensation, new to me
So many things I feel with you
That I feel with no other
I’ve never been turned on by how turned on the other person was
Always indifferent
“What if I just did it myself?”
You ask,
As if I wouldn’t stop you
I place your own hand between your leg
Show me that frustration
You are too shy
But I was only going to let you for a second
Before I pinned you to the blanket
Stupid girl, you had no clue?
I stare down your shirt hungrily
I try to be respectful with your skirt
Your leggings
You put your hair up and I give you a massage
I try to take in all of your beauty
How do I fit into this heaven?
Can I only have you for a moment?
Once a week?
Is anyone meant to be this happy?
Is it meant to be impermanent?
Is this some forbidden fruit?
I’ll eat it down to the core.
The cyanide will only kill me, eventually
That sounds worth it
Hey, by the way, who sent you?
You tell me to sit on top
I straddle you
Tell you to peg me just like this
Half-joking
And you look so gorgeous like this
I search my brain for words to compare
Perfect to the pores
Dreamy and divine
What words fit your visage here?
I stumble over them,
What fucking word fits more than heavenly?
I can only think of one thing
I ask it
"Who sent you?"
Where did you come from, Lovebug?
Surely somewhere Heaven originates from
So dreamy to me
Let me see the world with your ease.
Who sent you?
To keep me shackled without due
I was made for us, it's true
it's true
I might've missed it
Who did you say sent you?
Surely you transcend even the bounds of heaven
You are the vista of spring
I stand in the winter and wait for your bloom
Permission for life to continue
You tell me I am beautiful here
I feel beautiful, here
Like I am more than I am
I was made for this harmony
Tell me you don’t feel the same
Shatter my illusions
My delusions
Rip me off like a band-aid
Why are you doing this?
This is my favorite moment, here
“Our skin is the same color,
We are the same person”
These things you say
What do you want me to do with them?
I pick them up and I try to hold them
How impossible a task you’ve given
What sense will I etch into my skin?
Made from the same star
We are drawn to each other
So, stay with me, stupid girl
I would love to call you mine
Still, I abstain
Are you a coward?
Or are you certain in this decision?
What do I do with those words?
I pick them up
I carry them with me
How do I put them down again?
Let me take us somewhere else.
Let me know who sent you.
I want to take off my shirt again
As you trace my arms and body
I want to feel your fingertips
Can I really live like this?
In these fleeting weekly moments?
To hold you
I love you always
Never faltered
Is this something I really wasn’t
Meant to find?
To hold onto your bones
Till the end of time?
The way you kiss my cheek when I lie on my stomach
Who sent you, Lovebug?
Are you some assassination attempt?
Is this some cruel joke with a twisted plot?
You're my purpose. no matter what I got
Someone dare you to do this?
Maybe God made you and then sent you to torment me
You the Devil's hireling?
You got a different accent under that American one?
British super spy or an undercover Russian?
I hate that you’re with him
I’m left alone
Why do you still come around?
Why not make me a home?
Whenever you get the chance
I'd love to hear
Who sent you?
And who is taking you away?
Why did you have to go?
Stay with me
Stay with me
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neillien · 1 year
Text
mirror, but you don't know
1
Mosaics
took a long look at myself,
slowly
down the neck of a kaleidoscope
once - once more,
more became habitual,
inevitable as to what I keep seeing.
Mirrors will always
misrepresent me
2
hallelujah.
I’ll be damned
always was, always will be  
the first to disappear completely .
Tedium, and boredom
how determined their ways
to enjoy me, eating their way
back through my eyelids.
From my convalescence bed
It is a wonder I am still
here at all, I am a miracle.
How will I learn the knack of tolerance,
see the potential for something beautiful.
Seeing/not seeing myself in mirrors /waiting,
slowly/ uncontradictable.
Is that me?
So be it.
3
vanity mirrors.
Superstition dictates  
seven ugly heads
for every patron
whose beauty
chooses to see themselves
as they think others ought to see
them as.
I dare not look in case I have
a momentary lapse
of self-evaluation, knowing
my face has become a skull
obliterated, gone to shadow.
Inertia acts like a blindfold on me.
No one can look me in the eye.
And I am blindness personified.
4
glass for the existing face / to face
potential, it will take perceptiveness.
Sorry to see you go.
You have now unsubscribe from that person.
And in another skin
you are the sex you were ascribed at birth,
He dances,
amazed
at the body he has, and at the other bodies, families make.
One child in particular, his visage full of intent,
his hands soft like gloves, stuffed with swan feathers,
but elegant,
feminine,
you were trying them out for the fist time. The male
dressed in a fantasticated himation,
dancing in
darkness's Mars black portrait necklace
the consequential solitude is
a path around nothing,
presently it holds you
a marionette, amused by the comic handlers' success
as an idolater.
I hold broken, votive mirror in my hand
show you him as HER.
I present to you an imaginary self.
The first glance is always the / worst.
5
nonreflective,  glass     
aftereffect.
Life I cannot cope with.
I don’t have the patience
even to exist
Yet
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mycelier · 1 year
Text
LOL I forgot, something really funny happened yesterday
When I'm heading to the bathroom at work, I've had some instances where people like...doubt which side they "should" be going into bc they're clearly labeled "men's" and "women's" and although I do not identify fully as a woman (or maybe at all idk right now my body and brain are a fucking mess), I typically go to the women's side.
Mostly bc most people identify me as "female" instantly bc im adorable and men aren't adorable I fucking guess lol
Anyway! I've had people like....try to warn me away thinking I'm going into the wrong side bc they see me from behind and I typically wear masculine clothing and I've caused other people to pause and double check the sign outside the bathroom. All of this delights me to no end.
But yesterday
I was walking behind a lady (I'm assuming due to the physical presentation) and trying to keep my distance but she's going SO SLOW and I had to pee SO BAD so I keep having to force myself to slow down. We reach the bathroom and she just full on STOPS, and turns around to look at me. I'm not currently wearing face masks at work so it's easier to see that I'm feminine. But she's holding this drink in her hand and she full on stops and stares at me for a solid 5 or 6 unblinking seconds. I straight up am fully tensed, thinking she's about to throw her drink on me or scream or SOMETHING bc why did she stop and do a full 180 and not move?! Why is she looking at me?!?1
After almost 10 seconds she finally says, "Excuse Me" and brushes past me, away from BOTH sets of bathrooms. I just stood there for another moment before locking eyes with a coworker who mirrored my look of "wtf was that about"
I like to think she fully got turned around and thought that was the exit despite it being in the opposite direction of where the door was and where all the people leaving the store were going. But I also like to think that when she beheld my Visage she was so confused she error 404'd and just had to leave lol
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heyitsnyixie · 1 year
Text
Short horror? story/vent (tw's: Mentions of suicide, figurative yet very apparent body disphoria)
Intrusive thoughts
I woke up infront of a familiar building. An unremarkable house in the middle of a poor neighborhood. "Is this my old-" I think aloud as I reach for the knob. The building reminds my of my childhood home. One of the places I felt safest.
I opened the door, the inside of the house was lit by the soft blue of daylight. Out of the the corner of my eye I see a figure, sitting on the couch. The figure smiles wide, eyes lighting up,
"Welcome home, son" the figure said. It was my father. My father. My father?
"wh-what did you just say?" I said in complete shock, not fully processing what was going on.
"I said, welcome home, son, I've missed you." He turned to look at me. "I was worried I'd never see you again. I realized that I was wrong, that I was hurting you." He said, standing up and reaching out to give me a hug.
"No." I said firmly, shrinking away from 'my father'.
"Stay away! You aren't my father, he would never say something like that!" I got louder and more defensive. The thing dropped it's arms to it's side, it's face becoming a nameless visage of dark color, interrupted only by two glowing white eyes.
"what's the matter?" The creature taunted, it's body loosing my father's form and slowly turning into something else. "Isn't this what you always wanted? More than anything? Even more than not looking like this?" The beast exclaimed taking the ugly, distorted form of-
Myself.
The thing that keeps me from mirrors. The bastard that parades my brain around like it has the right. It's ugly human proportions, the ones I would never pick had I designed the flesh suit myself. All of it's disgustingly fake features.
The creature spoke again, "You would rip and tear every part of this if you weren't such a coward." It started to pace around me, it's distorted echoing voice continued, "Every day you walk around like you attempt to take care of it but can't. But you can. You can take care of yourself. But, if you did, you'd have to live with it."
It stopped infront of me. "You pretend to be inept so no one notices you're trying to kill yourself. You want the sweet release of death but you're to afraid to do it yourself. You're just going to run on empty until you stop running at all."
It puts it's hand on my shoulder as I flinch. "You could pretend to be happy here. You could pretend your hero was a considerate man who made an effort to respect you." It drops it's hand again. "Or you could suffer some more," it shrugs, "come talk again when you've made up your mind."
Then I see a computer screen with an empty document open. The cursor blinking expectantly awaiting my input. I sigh,"better get started on this essay."
I turn on the loudest song I can. I don't think about that again.
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deyadee · 2 years
Text
Large T-Shirt
Recently got a t-shirt from GameStop that had a panel from a Junji Ito story on the front. A corpse suspended by strings and a ballerina on strings. They only had Large and XXL Shirts, when I’m an XL. I figured I had lost weight recently so I could probably fit into a Large especially since I had gone down a pants size recently. Bought the Large. I got home and tried it on and it fit, just a little snugly. My mom told me I should take it back since the second it gets washed it would shrink so I put it back in the bag to take back. I haven’t gotten around to taking it back so it’s just been sitting in a bag in my room. My dad came in tonight and asked to try it on and it snugly fit, but my mom said it fit well.
I’m of course not happy. I want to feel happy for him because he’s been losing weight, but being a foot shorter than your father and being a 20-year-old girl and wearing slightly larger clothes just does wonders for your self-esteem. Though the worse part is that I can’t even emote much because I think I’ve become too numb to it all. Yeah, I’m fucking fatter than my father. Yeah, I’m gaining back pretty much all of the fucking weight I lost. Yes, I know I repulse any normal human with eyes in a fifty foot radius. I hate that I can think that without crying. I hate that I feel like I’m not depressed because I’m not crying every night when I still fucking hate myself and just want to die at every moment. I’m just living on autopilot at this point.
These goddamn mirrors. I have three large ones in my room. If I didn’t have to get ready for work in the mornings I would have ripped them out of my room. I despise looking at my reflection. So fat. So awkward. Such a blubbering goddamn failure. Nevermind any of the other factors of why I’ll be alone- just goddamn look at me. Everyone sees me and thinks either 30-year-old woman or 12-year-old, or just plain ugly. Huge fucking forehead, acne that never goes away, dark sunken in eyes, double chin, hair falling out, no sense of style or care. Just a visage that repulses the eye. You can say all that bullshit about beauty standards but no culture would see this and even think about approaching. I will die alone. Even if I did manage to find someone fucking blind they’d still run after the first two words out of my mouth.
I eat because I’m sad. Which makes me fat. Which makes me sad. Which makes me eat because I don’t want to show even more fucking proof I’m a complete failure of a human being. Oh yeah! On top of being fat, ugly, asexual and sex repulsed, no prospects, no college, no ambitions, and constantly blabbering I’m also a stress eater that desperately needs your support! People say personality is everything, but if your personality is a damn bore or annoyance it’s not gonna help if you aren’t a fucking goddess.
I need to start taking the pills again. I already starve myself at work and it does nothing.
Please hold me, dear friend. I miss when you would bring me comfort. Now, no matter how hard I squeeze I never feel any more comforted. Where did your soothing soul go to hold me as I cried myself to sleep? I wouldn’t blame you if you left me too. You’ve grown tired of me, but I still cling as tightly I used to. I guess I’m not as numb as I believed.
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gypsyinceylon · 2 years
Text
Grandma’s daughter
I’ve struggled thus far to be my own person,
I used to think it’s something we’d be handed on a silver platter,
Something we cannot possibly ignore, until,
I accompanied my mother on evenings,
To nurse my grandmother, to watch the telly at midnight morn.
I collected her novels, poems and dusty storylines,
Her fondness poised in nursery rhymes-
I let myself be close to her,
And found out something,
A mystery in plain sight, one I could not resist. 
It sparked like a dangerous taser,
An electric chair that makes you saner-
the woman in her fancy wheelchair with a clean plait 
seemed a mirror, in disguise, staring at my face. 
The cold gaze in her youth age,
The memory that speaks of fallen days,
Her visage after a witty phrase,
The silent erudite, a heart disdained.
Quite a character I feel to match,
But I assure her regality to me is, mismatched.
How dearly I wish to wear her name,
Trace her hands on tilled earth green again,
Pen on a crossword in utter glee
And be the Clementine she’d need!
It seems so distant, I cannot quite reach,
I wish I could travel ages back to the streets,
To meet herself in just twenty years but -
It is now late, and though at least
I wish I could have her here with me.
In one hospital bed she lies,
Neither a 4711 nor flowers by her side,
‘She breathes slow’ my mother says.
Her eyes begging to flow but locked in for late.
I try to skim for Yeats, Hardy and Keats,
But no word of mortality will comfort this feat,
How does one prepare for an end?
Wear sackcloth and ashes in hope of a change of fate,
How can one ask for a miracle today?
How do you possibly break bread with the dead?
If I could go back in time, sift all my wickedness and whims,
Then heaven would beg for me instead,
But now they want you, to keep you for themselves.
The impending agony brings only your smile,
A painful dote reminder I’d treasure for life.
I want to run, to scream and look
for you for a final goodbye-
To be passed the parcel and to wish you Godspeed,
But I’d run only too far to see your garden of Eden now overrun with weeds.
 T
26/07/2022
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