And you start to notice things, amid the crumbling of your dreams... the way the sunlight hits the leaves, the way she whispers as she falls asleep!
‘Miss You Before You’re Gone’, Dave Smallen, (Happiness)
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DID YOU MEAN PLATONIC SOULMATES I'M BAWLING. YES I DID MEAN THAT THANK YOU. Also I got sent this and I was feeling things and then I was like "wait BELLA MADE THIS" and then I felt more things because you're awesome and I miss you. anyway. it's after nine which is basically 3am for me these days that's why I'm being like this but also everything I've said is accurate
STOP HI I WANNA CRY THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY I MISS YOU TOO I'M SO GLAD I HAVE ANONS ENABLED RIGHT NOW SO YOU COULD SEND ME THIS
I saw the tags that that was gonna be sent to you and I was super excited you'd get to see it and I often think about you when I think about Kelliott because I know you have an appreciation for them 💙
Anyway thank you sooooo much you're also awesome and I miss you and you just brightened my day so much. I hope you and your family are doing well!!
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nanami’s side of the bed wouldn’t even be called nanami’s anymore. you sleep there nearly every day, blaming it on how the pillows smell of him.
nanami’s clothes aren’t his anymore, you're sleeping in his shorts and t-shirt tonight. you wore his shirt yesterday, and took his ties for some clothes experiments last week.
nanami’s sacred pens are no longer his own, he finds them on the table after you tried to scribble up something and forgot to put them back.
nanami’s mugs are now shared, always in the dishwasher even when he doesn’t recall using them at all.
nanami’s thoughts don’t belong just to him anymore. you’d bug him about it all day if he doesn’t share what he’s thinking — so he, with an exasperated sigh, tells you what’s on his mind.
nanami’s salary doesn’t go straight to his savings account like it used to, instead taking a portion of it to spend on you. ‘you’ means gifts, flowers, dates, trips, trinkets, and so on.
nanami’s weekends aren’t as quiet as they once were; now they’re chaotic, full of so much of you.
nanami’s fridge is full nowadays. candy, leftovers, ice cream, cheese, cake, bread, and the list goes on. so many things that don’t go along with his diet fill the once-empty shelves.
nanami doesn’t spend as much time in his study as before you moved in. now old books are left to collect dust, long forgotten in a room that’s never lit. even when he decides to pick one up and read it, it’s the minute that he sees your face the book is tossed away.
nanami’s happiness still comes from days off, but now it’s because those days are spent with you. days when he slept long and ignores the world are long gone, now he gets to sit and focus on you, watching as everything else becomes nothing but background noise.
nanami has always been sure he’s not looking for marriage, at least not right now. but he swears that ring looks so perfect for you. there’s no way he’d miss it.
nanami stands in front of the bathroom mirror 5 minutes late every day because you’re still figuring out how to fix his tie the right way without any help. he can’t seem to rush you, though — what’s being precisely on time have on your little giggles as you sit on the sink and struggle to finish a task he could have done in under a minute?
nanami has been spending so much time eating as of late, more time than he can afford. while he used to finish a meal in approximately fifteen minutes, now dinners could stretch to two hours. he couldn’t get off the table early when you sit across from him, talking and joking and doing anything that’s not eating. he simply can’t possibly not indulge in the little conversations, appreciating every moment he gets to spend in your presence.
nanami’s life wouldn’t even be called his anymore. you’re a storm, invading his life all at once, bringing in your chaos along with you. you’ve infatuated him, you’ve assailed his senses and changed his very being. every time nanami’s eyes align with yours, he prays your presence isn’t a fleeting one. he silently hopes you don’t leave as suddenly as you came, that you plan to stay.
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"love every trans woman you meet before it's too late" is a tumblr post that is very close to my heart because it was inspired by a friend of mine attempting suicide.
like a lot of people seem to assume it's about the banning and stuff and i mean like it can be. love the trans women in your life before the structures around them isolate them. love them before they feel like they're unloved. yk.
but like.
love every trans woman you meet before it's too late is particularly strong to me because it's literally about a friend of mine i thought it was too late for.
i was too scared of making her uncomfortable to let her know how much i love her and how wonderful it is to know her and how happy i am to have met her. and i thought she was gone.
love every trans woman you meet before it's too late is a reminder to me to always push past that discomfort. to always try to make the trans women in your life feel loved. because we so often feel unlovable.
even if you think your actions speak for themselves, push beyond your fears. tell them directly.
"i love you."
"you're a wonderful force in my life, you make me happy."
"i would miss you when you're gone."
"please come to me with your problems."
"i love you."
let the trans women in your life know exactly how much you care about them. let them know you love them. let them know they're your best friend. let them know you'll always be there for them.
they will doubt they're good enough they'll doubt they're loved they'll doubt everything that gives them value. but take them into your heart and make them feel it.
be their shoulder to cry on.
please don't ever let it be too late.
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any thoughts for yandere!pervy!könig who has to resist from fucking you so hard? knowing you're too weak and fragile to ruin, but palming himself through his pants whilst bathing you, or creeping on you as you sleep!!! 🥹
ignore if you want to!! can be somnophillia/noncon if you want 🎀🩷
How exactly am I supposed to ignore this??? This is such a good idea!
Yan!Pervy roommate König x fem!reader
Cw: Perverted König, dub-con, somnophilia, panty sniffing, panty stealer, scent/musk kink, handjob, tell me if I missed any.
He just can’t believe how lucky he got when you answered the ad for a roommate. He knew you were searching for a place to move in, wanting to move out of your parents’ place as a first step into independence and he’d purposely put the ad out a few weeks before you moved. The rate was low, lower than most apartment would cost - even for a old, beaten flat, but his was new and well-maintained - it was his way of silently coaxing you to room with him. König had declined every other, keeping it open until you finally contacted him.
The days between your first interaction and your move in were a blur in his mind, dazed with ecstasy and joy to be have you at an arm’s length. You were so small compared to him - as most people were - and so weak and fragile, limbs a third to his and as strong as a child in his eyes. You were so innocent and untouched, your tight little cunt still a virgin in this age. You were temptation on two legs.
He can’t remember the first time he peeked through the crack of the bathroom door, the glass shower doing nothing to hide your wet, naked skin as he palmed himself, groaning lowly as he fished out his hardened cock. He pumped himself, hand twisting as he reached the swollen head of his cock, thumb pressing against the leaky slit and using his precum as lube, jerking his hardened length more easily. He came at the thought of running his hands on your skin, kissing your collar and biting that beautiful neck, digging his hands into your thighs as he fucked into your small cunt. He hurriedly cleaned up and tucked himself back into his pants, burying the flush on his skin as he waited for you to finish your shower.
After the first month, jerking off while watching you shower wasn’t enough, he humped your cushion when you were out, dragging his drizzly cock over your bed. Face buried in your sheets, he drinks in your scent, that sweet rose and vanilla smell of your shampoo as he rutted into his tight palm, imagining that he was between your warm walls. König could come at the idea of covering you in his musk, your hair smelling like him, you skin tasting like him, you cunt leaking of him. He came so hard that it spurted all over your bed, his cum was on your blanket, on your bedsheet, on your cushion and on your headboard. Fuck, he loved the idea of covering you and your things in his cum.
When coming in his hand to the sight of you in the shower and your empty bed wasn’t enough, he slipped into your room at night, the only sound in your shared appartient being you soft snoring and his laboured breaths. He stroked himself, teasing his throbbing cock with slow pumps and watching your innocent oblivion to his dirty thoughts while you slept. He was crouched over you, his figure looming over your figure when he came, thighs spread wide over your hips and hand clawing your bedsheet besides your head, you warm breath hitting his wrist.
You’d wake up without knowing why you were coated in crusty substance or why you were missing another panty, your pretty, blue lacy panty gone from your drawer. König would be in his room, holding your pretty lace lingerie over his nose, sniffing it while he pumped himself. God, König couldn’t stop himself from covering your underwear in his load before handing it back to you, saying that he found it somewhere in the house. Then you’d wear it, your sweet cunny over the spot he came on, making him purr in satisfaction, a branding on you in the deepest way possible since he couldn’t bully his cock into you just yet.
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