Everyone, trying to warn me: Harrow the Ninth is so complicated and so hard to get through and you won't have any idea what the hell is happening!
Me: Harrow the Ninth is peak comedy if your sense of humor is fucked beyond all sense.
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xavier falls asleep easily enough as he is, but whenever he has his head on your lap, your fingers combing through his hair—all he can do is just sigh and give in. closing his eyes, he knows better than to fight the temptation, especially within the comfort of your touch and pleasant weather. though admittedly, he will find any weather pleasant as long there is you, safe and close to his side. as he slowly drifts to sleep, he dully notes with a hum when you praise his hair. he will do his best to make sure he will also praise your features after he is awake. he could think of so many to say—your smile, your voice, your whole being. and maybe, he will also give a kiss on your forehead and lips too—he thinks before finally falling asleep.
zayne loves many parts of you, from the one that often surprises him most to the one that offers him a comforting mundanity. so, when you press your forehead to his and call his eyes beautiful, he knows himself enough to just accept your words in silence with a smile. a burst of adoration and more blossomed warmly, weighing his chest and dizzying his head instantly. he is tongue-tied, certainly, however, he too can't exactly find the words to tell you how much more beautiful yours are to him. or perhaps, he doubts there are any words to describe what he truly feels. though, for now, he will settle with a gentle squeeze from his hands to tell you as he presses back his forehead gently against yours.
rafayel gets flustered pretty easily sometimes. it is both adorable and funny, seeing the way his ears turn red as his usually chatty mouth closes with a pout-like expression. but, even this state he could never take his hands off you. you could keep kissing his face, neck, and chest—right over his beauty mark—while hugging him without a clear rhyme and reason, and like a true lovesick man he will let you. hands resting on your arm, stilled in his brand of rare shyness all while still clinging unto you out of his obvious fondness. of course, even if he does enjoy this, he will come back with a vengeance the moment he gathers himself.
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found back this thing from 2021
putting the addition directly onto the og post since nobody reblogs the full version:
'about this i feel a few people have misunderstood what i drew it for, my tags didnt help at all for sure and it is just one doodle, but i didnt made it as 'i'm questioning my sexuality and need to know what specific labels i am'. i've been well aware of what my whole deal is for years.
this was a silly doodle i drew as a recreation of all the thoughts and questions i had that went 'what is attraction? what is romance and sexual and platonic and friendship and something else entirely? how and why do we need to define feelings and relationships so much? why do people act the way they do, date the way they do, marry the way they do, live the way they do? how much does your own culture and time influence the way you do those things, the way you think you should act and feel? how much does amatonormativity influence and impact all of us? and why are some people so resistant against the idea of questioning and living out of these norms?' among many others things.
again, i drew years ago. i didnt want to post it because it felt unnecessarily personal and because people are insufferable about queerness.
EDIT: pls for the love of my sanity reblog the full post instead.'
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