T-akipsilim - Takip•silim (n.)🇵🇭 Twilight, Sunset Nightfall, Dusk

Bless all your souls, I finally know how to input that read more mechanism lmao

Dear people who write long ass (usually celebrityxreader) fics

Please use the Read More button, it was made for a purpose.

Bonus:

This is me after having to scroll your fic post:

once there were four children, by Liridi.

₊˚⊹ ♡ . JUST SHOW UP AND BE PRETTY.

“Mr. and Mrs. Robertson are the ones whose daughter just went off to college… she’s a hospitality major, I think… or maybe it was nursing—argh!” You drop your head into your hands, your notecards crinkling at the edges before you toss them down onto the dresser, giving up on your studying. “I’m never gonna be able to remember all this.”

Bruce rounds the corner, shrugging on his shirt casually. He isn’t even dressed, and the gala starts in twenty minutes.

“No one expects you to.” He hums placidly.

“You’re the CEO, it’s gonna look bad if I’m with you and I don’t know anyone’s names.” A frown starts to tug your mouth downwards, your teeth digging into your bottom lip anxiously.

As he finishes buttoning his shirt, looking entirely too handsome in plain, crisp white, Bruce crosses the room and joins you in front of his dresser. He brings a hand up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your lips in an attempt to smooth your growing frown. You lean into his touch automatically, his hand warm against your skin.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t work. Tonight’s supposed to be fun—at least a little, I’d hoped.” The baritone of his voice is so soothing, your concerns practically melt at the first comforting word that leaves his mouth. Bruce has always had a way of doing that, of saying things with such resolute calmness that they had to be true.

“Just don’t wanna embarrass you.” You mumble, though you knew he had already suspected as much.

Bruce lets out a slow, quiet sigh, his hand drifting down to rest on the crook of your neck. He tugs you gently forward, and you let him, as he makes you turn to face the mirror. You’re in the cobalt blue gown he picked out, throat and ears studded with matching sapphires. As you look in the mirror, your eyes don’t stay trained on your own reflection for long—rather, they flick to Bruce, who’s looming over you like some overly handsome and comforting phantom. He squeezes your neck reassuringly.

“Look at yourself. How could you embarrass me when you look like this?”

Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your mouth start to tip up into a small smile. Bruce catches it and grins, flashing his teeth in a way that’s equally as intoxicating every time he does it. Secretly, you spend most of your time together trying to coax those from him.

He dips his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear, and you shudder lightly at his breath against your skin. “Just be there, and be next to me, and be gorgeous. Everyone will love you.”

Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes start to drift shut, lulled by his voice in your ear, like he’s hypnotizing you. You nod numbly, suddenly very agreeable with whatever he had to say. He lets out a small, deep laugh into your ear, hands smoothing over your shoulders as he pulls back from you.

“We’re gonna be late.” You point out, a whine at the edge of your voice from the sudden absence of him against you.

“Yes, definitely.” He replies.

so gaze upon this wretched thing and know that it is love

Signed, Viktor | 11/18

Transcript:

Resident impromptu marine biologist,

The flowers are thriving, you can see them from even the sidewalk below your balcony! I didn’t doubt you could grow them from just cuttings, but I’m still a bit relieved because, to be honest, I picked the types solely on their names. Fuchsia is simply too interesting of a word for me to dismiss.

Speaking of thriving, I’m sure the “mermaid” is doing just as well. Perhaps you shouldn’t have convinced that child the manatee was really a lost species, but I suppose that’s what he deserves for pounding on the glass so much - he should prototype inventions of the Talis family.

As you know, I lived near a river in the Undercity, but our visit was the first time I had seen anything larger than a minnow or crawfish. It was simply magical, though we probably shouldn’t have gotten candy floss before the whale show - after the splash, it seemed more like a disappearing act. I wasn’t aware creatures could grow that large! Rio was already a spectacle to me, though it was most likely because of how small I was at the time.

I’m sorry for cutting this reflection short - I realize our visit was already a week ago anyway, yet that doesn’t stop it from rebounding around my head like you did from glass pane to glass pane. I understand you were excited, but that won’t stop me from reminding you that you identified staff members inside the tanks cleaning as different species of fish twice.

Instead, I wanted to speak of last night, hopefully while seeming as much as like I am directly talking to you as I can. Ironic when I could quite literally do so by simply knocking on the door to your quarters, I know, but I thought it would be the most fitting in a letter - at least, the most sentimental. (Not to mention that I am tremendously anxious, but I’d rather not think of it at the moment.)

Speaking of sentimental, did you know that the café - the one we had our first meeting off school grounds at - has closed down? I could hardly believe it when I saw it this morning since I wanted to surprise you with a drink, but I've heard they're merely moving, so it should still be nearby.

Also, do you happen to remember the sachet of herbs you gave me? I know you told me it was only an old wive's tale that it helps with allergies, but I genuinely feel that my sinuses are clearer. If only all ailments could be cured so easily.

Wait, I'm getting off track - I can't believe I've had not one but two tangents in writing. I promise these notes aren’t usually this nerve-wracking, but this letter carries considerable weight; so much so that I am delivering it myself (again, a bit redundant, but I like to think it adds to the charm).

If there is one thing I may ask of you, it would be to please not think of me any differently.

Because of last night, an internal cauldron that I have been carrying for quite a while has finally boiled over. It had been brewing ever since you shook my hand across the library table, but the last evening simply pushed it over the edge. Everything about it seemed tailored to pull me to that realization; from our journey in continuing to find out which key belonged where to chasing those discoveries to the water wheel outside.

We didn't trade many words sitting on that ledge, but I'd never felt closer to somebody. I know I've told you I’m not one for physical affection, even avoiding an embrace or two from you, but I regret it immensely. Goodness, I think that plant from so long ago had held you longer than I ever have.

However, I have reason to believed that has all changed. Because of you, I've found out why people hug, why friends link arms, why a single pat on the hand can be important, why a brush on the shoulder can linger for hours. Yesterday, and so many days before, I felt, well... received, I suppose. I couldn't play with the Zaun children, I couldn't travel with the academy students, but I don't have to with you - because there's nothing else I want to see.

I felt like with my arms around you, I never had to leave that spot, never had to pick up my cane again, like I could merely drink in your happiness and live forever.

Above all, you've stirred the heated coals of my lost faith in myself and my scientific proficiency into a renewed smolder; that aspect heated the cauldron before I even saw your face. A little drop of dreams can only go so far, but you've turned both yours and mine into a river.

And I don't plan on building a dam anytime soon. Like we have all these months, I still want to dodge flashlights in the dark with you, to formulate increasingly outrageous excuses when they inevitably land on us, to ensure that you get more from this academy than an assistant job and a metal brace. To put it simply, I'm sure you've heard of the term "Cupid's arrow". In my case, he must've used a rifle - and he's a terribly good shot.

Perhaps this is all a bit forward. I hope you are not uncomfortable or feel obliged to be mutual in this, anything but that. I just felt it was only right to tell you. After all, are we not for progress?

By botanical (though maybe not scientific) terms, the tree of my life had become barren, and I could barely remember when my potential was a promise instead of a regret. When you came to sit under its branches they not only bore fruit, but also more types than I could ever imagine. I’m not certain of much in this world, but I know indefinitely that you are beautiful and that I want us to pick every fruit on that tree until the only thing left for us is to touch the stars.

I don't know, I may be overcomplicating this. In the end, I only have to use a few words to describe how I feel.

I love you.

♥ Viktor

━━━━━━━

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single layer doodles

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…

I’m sorry-

No ur not