I Want To Write. I Have Ideas. I Open Document. I Type Four Of The Worst Sentences Ever Created In The

"For all those who have to fight for the respect that everyone else is given without question"

- dedication from The Fifth Season by N.K. Jeminsin

"To those who have no choice but to prepare their children for the battlefield"

- dedication from The Obelisk Gate by N.K. Jeminsin

"To those who’ve survived: Breathe. That’s it. Once more. Good. You’re good. Even if you’re not, you’re alive. That is a victory."

- dedication from The Stone Sky by N.K. Jeminsin

dance for the constellations

okay but I randomly just got this thought of Nanami Kento getting super drunk and he’s just staring at you with the biggest and dopiest smile on his face. Face red from the alcohol and probably just a lovesick blush as well. And he’s just staring at you lovingly and is slurring “my wife. You’re my wife. Can’t believe it…. You’re really my wife. My pretty, beautiful, lovely wife.” And you’re like “yes, Kento, we’ve been married for nearly four years now” and he responds “I know I just still can’t believe it. I’m so lucky.”

every day tumblr picks some random things to flood my dash with that i've never seen before or barely interact with. the other day it was dipcifica which is pleasant enough, then i was kamala harris, but today it's all manifesting and shifting. what are you trying to tell me.

You know who would make the perfect wedding date? Nanami Kento. Even if you’re not together, he treats you like someone he could spend a lifetime beside. He's the type who shows up early, dressed sharp but with his sleeves rolled up, offering to iron your dress without a second thought - just wanting to be helpful, to be close.

He's the type who sits through hours of dress try-ons, calm and attentive, offering quiet praise with that soft look in his eyes. You don’t see the way his fingers twitch when you smile at yourself in the mirror. You don’t notice how he lingers on the little details - how the color of your dress brings out your eyes, how your laugh makes the room feel lighter.

He brings over his whole tie collection, more invested than he’d ever admit, just to match with you. And when he hands you your favorite coffee that morning, there’s a small note on the lid in his handwriting - just a simple “You’ll be beautiful today.” He acts like it’s nothing.

He even shows up with a bottle of nail polish, a shade he spent far too long picking out, and offers - half shy, half serious - to paint your toes for you. His hands are steady, but his heart isn’t.

At the reception, he holds your purse while you dance with your friends, watching you with that quiet, wistful expression he tries to hide. He doesn't let himself hope for more , but when you reach for him during a slow song, when your hand slips into his and he pulls you close, he lets himself pretend. Just for a little while that he will always be your plus one.

Lord, grant me the strength to throw away this box that i'll never use, the courage to throw away this box that i'll never use, and the wisdom to throw away this box that i'll never use

need a named filter set feature on ao3 like yesterday i spend half of my Reading Time filtering fics

i have so many hobbies and interests but each day the four horsemen (instant gratification, shortened attention span, procrastination, exhaustion) grab me by the throat and shake me until i collapse in my comfy bed

STEAL YOUR WONDER BACK! (rant)

(i don't think i'm saying anything particularly profound but ik i often need the reminder)

as a young adult trying to build a future (or just a person), it is so easy to get stuck in survival mode and focus on the next thing you have to do, and the thing after that, and the thing after that, ignoring anything that doesn't immediately present itself as useful. in each of my classes (at school,,,,the whole point of which is to learn a bunch of stuff you might not use until years later, if at all) ppl have raised their hands multiple times to ask the prof what the point is, how any of this is useful, or why they individually need to know anything being taught. it's frustrating and sad.

we are here, on this plane of existence, to LEARN!! capitalism will try to make you forget, but you do not exist to make and hoard money, or to scroll endlessly and generate ad revenue for others. money has value, and i'm not suggesting we pretend it doesn't but putting it at the center of literally everything will be the death of us all (i.e. global warming, homelessness, the military-industrial complex,...). money will make your life easier and happier, but so will genuine curiosity. why does this thing work the way it does? who is that thing benefitting? how could it be better? spend an hour or two going down a rabbit hole. find the beauty in everything -- it is there.

the world will never be as it is in this moment: are you collecting souvenirs for when it passes? get a hold of your curiosity, grow it, stretch it, make it your mystery mousekatool. i think that's truly radical (which is a completely diff post of its own). also read a book and take a sociology class.

Nanami gets a kick out of how innocent and pure you are in front of others. Around friends, family, coworkers, strangers, you’re still that shy, timid girl he fell in love with all those years ago. Always smiling with kindness twinkling in your eyes. Perfectly sweet to just about everyone you meet. You’re beloved by everyone in your life and in his. A true angel in disguise gracing this mundane world of his. 

When it’s just the two of you, though, you turn into a completely different person: a fiend hellbent on making him lose his goddamn mind.

Tonight, you're locked in your bedroom, fucking each other silly. Well, it’s more like you're fucking him. You straddle his lap, riding his cock, already so sensitive from his first orgasm. His creampie leaks out from your pussy, making a mess between you, but you don’t care. He’s twitching from overstimulation, moaning your name as you bounce faster on his dick, pumping another load out of him. He’s spent beyond belief, but he knows better than to deny you of your fill. No matter how much he whines about how sensitive he is, he wants this. He needs this. 

Limbs wobbly from exhaustion, he kneels behind you, watching with half-lidded eyes as you position yourself on your hands and knees, teasing his wet cock between your ass cheeks. He stares at your pussy, drooling with his cum, already eager to be back inside you. He lets you do all the work, be in control, use him as your own personal sex toy until you’re satisfied. And that doesn’t happen until you throw your ass back and forth on his dick, filling yourself up with his third creampie of the night, the sheets beneath you ruined with sweat, spit, and slick. 

To Nanami, there’s nothing better than being fucked stupid by you, his gorgeous, perfect wife.