2h
did you know you could send a letter to your fictional crush by paying a psychic on etsy to do it and you get a response I sent a photo of my red nails to Luke and he said I'm pretty
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did you know you could send a letter to your fictional crush by paying a psychic on etsy to do it and you get a response I sent a photo of my red nails to Luke and he said I'm pretty
This isnt sia your just mad someone doesnt agree with what your doing, i seen the post abou u too buddy and if the allegations are true then ew ☠️
no I think you’re a little coward using anon; and if it’s not sia it’s one of her little hoe ass friends supporting her crazy ass
Lapis being short by gem standards but is actually pretty tall for human standards probably around 6 ft
Gonna believe in myself like how I believed in that one guy.
Sometimes…you end up being delusional and create yourself (as your sona) and your sona’s bf (who is definitely not the equivalent of a 2d fictional and imaginary boyfriend) instead of getting any actual work done.
There is no pride in the delay, only delusion that someone’s there with you to go the frustration of madness you thought you could bear on your own.
a/n: HELLOOOO LONG TIME NO SEE!!! it's a little bit messy forgive me but i was sitting on it for idk 2 or 3 months bc of lack of creativity and strength, anyway here u go, hope u like it!!!! (working on something better dw;)
He wakes up every morning feeling that strange need of seeing you, talking to you, maybe even touching you. Turning off his alarm, still in cold bedsheets, he feels… really different, unpleasant. Every dream of you, every night the very same one, was making him feel discomfort in his own bed because you weren’t there, weren’t lying beside him.
Well, he wasn’t talking to you much, you two just worked at the same place together, but God, he was obsessed… Every inch of you sat in his memory. Your smile, your hair—every day styled, your taste in clothes, your way of talking.
He sometimes tries to admit to himself that he loves you, but dear God, no. He was a god, right? He was above everyone. He can’t feel love. But maybe… no, no (obviously a yes).
From your side, it was pretty similar. Everyone in the lab was able to see that you’re into him. You tried to hide it. You looked dark and very mean, but the worst thing was that you were really soft and cute inside.
That was the first thing he saw in you, and that turned him on. He wanted to take you out, to talk to you, to tell you his feelings, but he is just being Wesker, right?
His routine changed a little when you started working at Umbrella. He wasn’t just waking up, going to work, all day hoping you’d start a conversation or whatever else just to have a small conversation with you, even a nonverbal one, then heading home—and that’s where the nightmare starts. He would be so harsh on himself, realizing how many ways he had that day to start something that he completely wasted. At the end of the day, he just touches himself to your photos and goes to sleep just to make his wishes with you come true in his dreams.
It all ended one day, the day of your birthday. He was planning to wish you a happy birthday and maybe send you anonymous flowers, but you did very much more. You gifted him that ancient access to yourself.
He wakes up, warm spring sun peeking from the curtains straight into his face. He opened his eyes, again hugging that damn pillow.
“Why am I missing her again, fuck.”
Quickly putting himself together, he headed to work. Some time passed, bored because he hadn’t seen you yet. Then you came in.
“Good morning, Mr. Wesker,” you said, oddly happy, excited even, in his opinion. You were looking great. Long ponytail and a black bodysuit under the white lab coat, with black heels. You were looking like a goddess, his goddess.
“Mornin’,” he just said, pretending to be looking for something.
“I wanted to ask you if you would want to come to my birthday party…” you started. “I can send you the address and other information when I return to my office… and I, um, I would really appreciate and love your presence there.”
He could swear that his heart skipped a beat and the room got hotter in one second.
“Yes, please, baby, invite me, I beg you…”
He couldn’t believe what he heard. He looked at you and melted when he saw that pretty face. He lifted himself from his chair and made his way towards you, again pretending to be looking for something, but all his attention was on you.
“I will be there.”
He didn’t wait long to give you a response. Then you happily smiled and touched his shoulder.
“Okay, well, see you tonight!!!”
The place where your touch landed burned. He was so turned on. He even started to consider leaving work earlier just to get ready for the evening. The idea of you looking so pretty at the same party as him turned him on like never before, and when you touched his arm, he almost pissed his pants like a puppy seeing its owner.
So he did as he thought, left work early, something around 2 p.m., and headed home faster than usual. He opened the message from you, and immediately the memories flashed across his mind.
You both were doing overtime. You came to his office to give him the reports. You placed them on his desk, and he lifted his head to look at you.
“If you see any mistakes, text me. I’ll give you my number.” You bent over, took a random document, then wrote your number.
“I already have your email.”
“Yeah, I know, but there’s something wrong with it. I’m trying to change it, but I don’t have much time right now.” You gave him that cute smile of yours and left quickly, wishing him good night.
He pulled himself out of this and looked at the mirror, then at your text.
“Hey, so the party will be at this club link. It starts at 8 p.m., but you can arrive a little bit late if something happens. It’s gonna last till morning, tbh. I took the VIP balcony. I’m sure you’ll find it. See you!”
He read the text and went still. He wanted to reply, to do anything, but the fear of showing any emotions towards you made him just leave you on seen.
++
Before the party, he was really nervous, but when some time passed, he eased himself—especially when he saw you. It was a great party. Unlike he thought earlier, you spent more of your time with him and introduced him to your friends.
You two were sitting now on the bench in that pretty park that he sometimes passed by while driving back home from work.
The party was practically over, and most of the people had left, very much like you two. The thing was that he was now sitting with you—drunk, be for real—but still, you were making him feel butterflies. It was probably the first time he had talked this much with someone.
“…and then I jumped back in that pool, and Mom was so angryyyy.”
You laughed out and put your head on his shoulder. He felt it. Felt that moment. The opportunity. He moved his arm up a little bit and pulled you closer. You leaned into him automatically.
The closest chance lightened before his eyes. He took your chin up and looked at you. A drunk mess—well, a pretty beautiful drunk mess. He lifted your chin and kissed you.
The precious moment he had long waited for, he had dreamed of, now came true. He didn’t know how long it lasted, but when he looked at you after, he felt it wouldn’t be the last kiss.
He will make sure it won’t be the last kiss.