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#malortsev
oretsov · 3 years
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Sometimes Alina and Mal rescue each other. By saying they're dating.
Everything is totally fine.
She tugs on her shirt, considers tucking, untucking, then tucking again. The sticky air of the bathroom swirls around her, the constant stream of chatter from girls that are strangers until they are not. Alina observes them in their reflection of the mirror above the sinks, and they preen and paw at each other lovingly, slosh their drinks and exchange encouraging words. It makes her smile her secret smile, and then her sad smile, because she wishes Genya was here with her tonight. Genya would tell her to tuck or untuck, would help her curl her hair in the effortless way only she can achieve, would buy her drinks from the bar, bring them over to their table where they would sit in observation of the masses for the rest of the night. 
Alina sighs. But Genya is not here tonight, and is instead embarking on the first chapter of her epic love tale with David. She is as happy as one can be for a relationship in the making that had unfolded at a tantalizingly slow pace in front of her for the past three years. Alina was there for every baby step in the right direction, caught Genya everytime the red-headed girl swooned, and dutifully did her part in making sly remarks to the both of them about their hidden feelings for each other. How the two had managed to put off finally having a semblance of a conversation regarding feelings was beyond Alina. If they had waited another second, she would have locked them in her room herself, consequences be damned. She would sleep on the couch if she had to, if it meant no more days and conversations filled with nothing but their lovesick mooning. 
Of course, their story was sweet, and lovesick mooning was only sweet when it was tied up with a pretty bow, a first date, a bright future. Otherwise, it made Alina sick to her stomach. She knew this because this was what she felt - her insides would explode in uncomfortable flutters, her palms would sweat, and her dreams were filled with the playback of every glance, every touch, every laugh. Mal’s voice would haunt her in her dreams, and when she woke up, Mal’s presence would chase her in every waking moment. 
Of course, being roommates did nothing to stop the rapid beating of her heart, especially when he did things like bring her home soup after work. Or braid her hair with a precision he mastered as a child. Or sneak into her room on her morning-afters, waving a cup of coffee under her nose, gifting it to her after handing her an Advil. 
Alina had decided that she would simply rather be set on fire than have to endure one more quiet morning on the couch and watch Mal walk into the kitchen, lightly padding across the tile floor, towel slung low around his hips, sleep in his eyes, as he bids her a soft good morning in his rumbling voice, smelling like spring and steam and every piece of her heart that does not belong to her. 
The slamming of a bathroom stall door brings her from to the moment. She decides to keep her shirt tucked-it’s a classic look after all. She takes out her lipgloss and applies it with precision, her lips sparkly, shiny and inviting. She wonders if Mal would think so too. 
--- 
When Alina wanders back out to the bar, her otherwise previously scarcely occupied booth is practically bursting at the seams with activity. Nadia and Tamar have stuffed themselves in the corner, leaning heavily against the wall and each other. They flick peanuts across the table at Harshaw, who has his hands up in the shape of a football post. Zoya sits next to him, but is turned away from the game of peanut football, likely thinking herself too regal to participate. Instead she chats amicably with Tolya, discussing their progress at the gym and potentially how many fights they’ve participated in this week. Mikhael and Dubrov have also managed to snag spots at their booth, and whisper openly to each other about Zoya and Tolya’s conversation. 
Alina perks up. The two boys weren’t here when she went to the bathroom, and if they’re here now, Mal can’t be far behind. All three had worked closing at the coffee shop three blocks over, and said they would make it to their alcoholic themed outing whenever they were finished. Alina tries to hide her extra jauntiness when she reaches the table, and wills herself to be as casual as possible when she says,
“You’re all done at the shop then? Is Mal here?” What she hoped was cool and aloof sounding comes out in one fast breath, like someone beat it out of her. 
Tamar looks up from her corner and studies her face, looking unimpressed. Zoya raises one eyebrow at her and looks decidedly even more unimpressed. Alina ignores them both, and before the boys can answer, she decides to once more remove herself from the situation. An embarrassing encounter all around. 
“I’m getting another drink,” she announces. 
“Coward,” Zoya mouths. Alina sticks her tongue out at her. 
The footpath to the bar becomes more unclear the closer she gets, and soon she is squeezing her body between strangers and zig zagging her way to the front. It’s getting more crowded, and Alina thinks she’ll give herself two more drinks before she can convince Mal to go home and watch The Great British Bake Off in their pajamas. 
But first, she’ll give herself one drink before she abandons most social interaction and goes to look for him. Pathetically. Like a pathetic idiot. She already knows that once she does this, she’ll stick by his side for the rest of the night, and if she’s lucky enough, he’ll throw his arm around her once and never let go of her. 
Those are her favorite nights. 
She always feels warm and protected under the weight of it, and if she leans into his side and rests her head on his shoulder, grab his dangling hand and thread her fingers through his, so be it. She knows she would pay the price again and again of a hundred Zoya’s raising her dark brows condescendingly at her, a thousand unimpressed looks from their friends. 
Mal’s never stopped her, and sometimes when he’s especially tired after work but still swings by the bar, he’ll drag her to the corner of their booth and butt his big head into the side of her neck, pretending to fall asleep. His breath is always hot over her collarbones, and she tries to maintain steady breathing patterns and remind herself that the neck doesn’t have to be an erogenous zone if she doesn’t let it be, but this line of thought usually never works. The heat of how much she really wants him is never far, and these moments swirl together with the alcohol in her system, and together they create a rather combustible cocktail of her every desire. 
But he’s never once turned his head towards her neck and pressed his lips against her soft skin. And he probably never will. Even though she knows his breath would be hot. And if she dragged his face up to hers, she could show him that hers was too. And.
And what? And she should probably stop hoping that he will do the above any day now. 
A body knocks into hers as she waves down a bartender. Her nostrils are temporarily overtaken by a musky and manly scent. Black leather in a new car. Well pressed suits, tailored to perfection. A half-lit cigar. The scent is rather overwhelming, and her head feels dizzy.
“Miss Starkov. What a pleasant surprise.” The even tones of Professor Kirigan float down to her. She wonders what purpose a department head and University board member would have at a college bar. She puts on her best and politest smile. 
“Professor Kirigan, how good to see you,” she does a 180 of the room with her eyes. There’s no shortage of absolutely plastered 20 year olds. It’s the time of night when the air starts to mix the cigarette smoke and the weed smoke. “Here.” 
Kirigan sticks out like a sore thumb in this crowd of youths. He dresses too sharply. He stands up too straight. And when he looks her in the eyes, she feels something dangerous - like she could be kept safe by him from the rest of the world, but only on his terms. 
She’s gotten this feeling a lot from him recently - he’d shown up at one of her art classes, then one of her art exhibits. Always paying rapt attention to her, drilling holes into her head with his eyes. The first time he complimented her work, she felt no shortage of pride. He was high up in the University after all. But when he continued to do so, the sick blooming in her chest came only when he made her feel...too special.
She would note his subtle displays of power over her, over her fellow classmates, even over her own beloved professors. He demanded no shortage of attention and respect wherever he went. He was too far up in the ranks of the University, too flushed with money and influence for her to not realize what he wanted from her. At first she didn’t know, and every interaction felt like a lightning strike to her body, every conversation a sharp intake of air to push Mal out of her mind. But then Genya saw. Her friends commented. They were worried. They were looking out for her. 
She knows better now, and mostly just wants to leave this interaction as gracefully as possible. It would be foolish to think that Kirigan would ever learn to respect her and see her as his rightful equal in this dingy college bar, where she lived and breathed with her friends who knew her inside and out, where she left her blood, sweat, and tears on the karaoke floor, and where he stood now in a sharp black suit that would her skin, mark her, brand her. Cut her, and everyone she really loved, out. 
She honestly doubts he ever really liked her art. The thought makes her snort. 
“Would you do me the honor of joining me for a drink?” He asks her less like a question and more like a command. 
“I…” The empty glass she brought with her for a refill is a heavy weight in her hand. It is also what traps her in this moment. She would also desperately like to leave now at this time. 
Kirigan notes her glass and turns to the bartender, flicking his head. A few moments later, he hands her a dark stout, the chocolate colored abyss threatening to spill over the edge, his own clutched in his hand. It’s almost summer, and no one she knows is drinking dark beer. She also hates stout. 
He raises his glass to hers, raises his chin slightly at her, like a dare. 
“A toast.” His voice is smooth velvet, but it doesn’t bring her comfort. It just reminds her that he’s had years to perfect it and work it on girls like her. 
Suddenly a weight is slung around her shoulders. What she smells is intoxicating, and she knows if she turns her head to face her savior, she’ll be positively drunk with it all. It’s the smell of a forest after a summer rain. An undercurrent of roasting coffee beans. The comfort she’s known all her life, and every bit of love she carries on her sleeve. She turns her head towards him anyways, and her head goes so dizzy. She swears she falls in love with him all over again. 
“Mal!” 
His presence is like a gut punch, but the best kind. The kind that makes her lose her breath to marvel, lose her focus over the splendor. The freshest breath of air, the rush of falling knocking her off her feet. 
He grins down at her. “Hi there.” It’s almost whispered, like it’s a secret between just the two of them. She can feel the rest of the world fading away. 
Alina is rather positive she could stay here forever, Mal’s smile wide and inviting, soft and secure, his t-shirt bunched around her hands for the rest of eternity. But it occurs to her that she might be being rude. 
“Mal, um, this is Professor Kirigan, Professor Kirigan, this is -”
“Mal.” Kirigan says this like one would say cockroach. Or rodent. A look of disdain is hinted at on his features. 
“Nice to meet you sir.” Mal reaches out his free hand and offers a handshake. Alina notes that he keeps his right arm slung around her shoulders. It makes her giddy inside. 
Kirigan takes his hand, and the two engage in what she imagines is the most pretentious but subtle display of proving their manliness. 
“I’ve heard...much about you.”
This is a loaded statement. At one of her earlier exhibitions Kirigan had attended, she had created a small collection of paintings dedicated to Mal. The strong angles of his jaw, comforting swirls of yellows and greens for all the time they spent in the meadow as children. Crystal blue strokes, for the lake. She didn’t know if it was obvious that she had left her heart on those canvases. 
When he had asked about her inspiration, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to put into words to describe the boy, her best friend, her everything. She just said, “Mal. My friend.” 
Her hesitation did not go unnoticed, but he never asked again after that, and instead focused his efforts on their...relationship. 
That was when she got swept away. It’s different now though, because Alina wants to leave, and she doesn’t feel comfortable standing between these two men. One who wants to stake his claim on her, and one who protects her in the palm of his hand. 
It’s best to be removed from these situations, as quickly as possible, she decides. 
She tries to telepathically send this line of thought to Mal, but it looks like he’s engaged in a rather heated staring competition with Kirigan. Both are unblinking, like they are shooting daggers and lasers out of their eyes, and perhaps she knows she’s mentioned Kirigan’s name in passing to Mal, but perhaps maybe never to the extent to which they’ve interacted. But maybe he can already tell, and really the room is getting quite hot, and the condensation from the beer in her hand that she doesn’t want to drink is starting to drip down her forearm, and really she should have removed them all from this situation five minutes ago, which is why she blurts out,
“Mal is my boyfriend.” 
Something close to shock registers on Kirigan’s face. Alina doesn’t really care, and is instead focusing her efforts on leaning her head into Mal’s shoulder, the hand around him pinching his waist in a low-level effort to try to get him to understand that she is presently a damsel. And she is in distress. 
He understands though, because he’s always known and he’s always understood. The hand around her shoulder plays with the end of the strands of hair that his fingers catch onto. 
“Yeah, I just wanted to swing by before this one decided we were heading home for the night.” He’s grinning down at her again. She’s starting to feel delirious. There’s an unrecognizable look in the corner of his eyes. 
“Mmm, in a few?” She tries to give him a flirtatious smile, like a girlfriend would. It doesn’t feel much different than the smiles she usually gives him. She supposes there’s no real difference in intent here. 
“If you get too drunk I’m not giving you a piggyback ride home again.” “If you get too drunk, I’m not giving you a piggyback ride home again. It’s not even a reasonable request, you ask every single time-”
“I ask because you ask, and who are you to deny me a piggyback ride-”
“-you are twice my height and size and have been for the last six years-”
“-while I dole them out for free every time, without complaint-”
“-they’re not free and you know it, and this sounds an awful a lot like complaining-”
Kirigan clears his throat. Loudly. The two of them look up at him. 
“Perhaps I will leave you two to discuss the matters of your...transportation home.” His face is flushed, and she thinks she might’ve actually won this. 
He moves to step beside them, pausing next to her. His eyes linger on Mal’s hand on her shoulder, which is tracing light patterns into her skin now. Black eyes slowly make their way up to her face. She feels leered at. It does not feel good. 
“Alina.” A slight nod before he moves past them. She doesn’t want to turn around to look, but the past few minutes have felt like a bizarre and dreamlike series of events. 
“Well that was the weirdest fucking thing I’ve seen today,” Mal says from beside her. He also turned slightly to watch Kirigan leave. 
“And does shadow man know this is a college bar? Isn’t he like 100 years old?” 
Alina snorts. “He’s certainly pushing it, that’s for sure.” She turns her head back and up to look at him, but he’s already looking down at her. The unrecognizable look in his eyes spreads to the rest of his face, and it makes her feel queasy. 
It really is a wonder how she gets herself in these situations. She fiddles with his dangling hand.
“But thank you for rescuing me, I was honestly afraid I would’ve been here all night-”
“Is that my shirt?” Mal blurts out. She looks down. The theme of tucking, that which she had spent many minutes agonizing over, is once again torturing her. Maybe she should’ve untucked. Or even french-tucked. That was a trendy thing to do, wasn’t it? 
“Er. Is it?” 
It is. There were not many faded, poorly cropped, heathered shirts in their shared living space that advertised Boy Scout Troop 73. Which she supposes he had been a part of. 
“Y’know I’ve been looking for this shirt. It’s one of my favorites.” The hand that continues to lay tortuously over her shoulders is now torturously playing with her sleeve. His fingers graze the skin on her upper arm. She huffs. The nerve of this boy. 
“Well you’re welcome, because I found it. And I’m making sure it’s still fit to wear.” To demonstrate she smoothes down the front with her free hand. Mal’s eyes follow this motion. 
“Yeah you’re a real saint,” he says, rolling his eyes, smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 
Eyeing the lonely stout in her grasp, he motions his head towards it in question, and she nods. He takes it, and takes a long swig. She watches his Adam’s apple bob up and down, beady trickles of water rolling down his forearms. 
He looks back down at her. His face is flushed, and she knows in about five minutes he’ll turn towards her just to burp in her face. But for now, she just watches his face turn pink. 
“It looks good on you.” Now his ears are turning pink. Now her face is turning pink. 
“I mean,” followed by a cough. The air thickens with the scent of coffee and forest and her heart beating loudly. “It looks nice. You look nice tonight.” 
She wants to scream, but all she can do is stare and eventually mutter a thanks. Honestly, she wants to shake him and ask what even goes on in that pea brain of his. Is this payback for all the times she’s clearly ogled him while he walked around shirtless? She’s only human after all. Her being in love with him was more of an unfortunate byproduct. 
But panic arises instead. Could he know how she feels? Could he tell? And more alarmingly, how couldn’t he tell? And worst of all-
Didn’t he see what he was doing to her? 
Being best friends for so long meant that compliments got old after a while. There’d been no shortage of them in their lives, slipped into conversations as casually as their hidden meanings, their worth to each other. Every ‘this looks good’, laced with I will always support you, until the end of time; every ‘do we have any milk left?’, intertwined with I will be your home and stand by you until my very last days. They’d woven these spools of thread into each other so many times, sometimes she wasn’t sure where she ended, and Mal began. 
But this feels different. 
She meets his gaze, and the air feels charged, like the calm before the storm, before the lightning strikes. She’s never stuck her fork in a socket but she thinks the anticipation, the creeping and overwhelming desire to do so just to see what would happen, feels a bit like this moment. 
Mal lowers his head incrementally towards her. They were already standing so close, breathing the same air, but now she can feel the heat of his breath lightly grazing over her face, can feel his eyes staring into her heart and reading her every secret. She’s never felt so exposed by his gaze, and she wants to bottle it up and tuck it away to dream about it and be horrified by it for the rest of her days. What it could mean. The questions it could ask. She does not let herself think about the possibilities. 
Maybe he can see right through her anyways. Maybe he’s known all along and he figures now is a good time to boost his confidence. Maybe it’s just another night. Maybe it’s nothing at all. Maybe-
His gaze flicks to her lip, and her breathing stops. His hand comes up to her face, his fingers delicately tracing the outline of her lips. He wipes away some invisible remaining drop of alcohol - she’s sure she had wiped her mouth before he got here. When his thumb stops burning imprints into her skin, he brings his finger to his mouth, sucking dry whatever he had swiped off. The image makes her knees weak, and she feels the heat of the implication straight to her core. 
“Shiny.” It’s a whisper. He’s looking at her lips again. 
She’s going to scream. 
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malyen0retsev · 3 years
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going off of that anon and also miss oretsev, i have to say that reading tgt for the first time just months ago and discovering mal was WILD to me. i fell in love with him pretty much instantly and tweeted abt it, and then a friend of mine said liking mal is a “controversial” thing, to which i was like ???? but it just made me love him even more fiercely because i got curious and looked for reasons people hated him. all that to say... idk how you’ve managed to stay sane for all these years because if i’d read tgt back in the day and had to see people misunderstand his character so much and tear him apart unfairly for so long i probably would’ve committed several felonies actually
Seed my love, honestly for your own sanity (and the fact that I enjoy you staying felony free) it really is a good thing you didn’t discover these books until this year sfldjkbaskdfjb... idk how we’ve managed to stay sane I really don’t, I really really don’t
But no honestly, what’s fucking funny right is you’ve summarised how most of us became hardcore Mal stans anyay lmao, we all had similar experiences, me and @evanpoters have talked about this bc we’re like OG Malina squad who had to cope with those dumbass times askjfdbafd... basically, back in the day, a lot of us read the books and liked Mal. Then we went online. Realised he was hated for the most stupid, made up reasons. And sorta went *cracks knuckles* WELL THEN. I GOTTA STAN HIM NOW. And we never looked back since lmfao
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willsilvertongue · 3 years
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how r we feelin abt helnik ?
ELATED SEED WE ARE FEELING ABSOLUTELY ELATED!!!!! the writers did the job they were supposed to and stuck to book dialogue and i couldn't be MORE thankful for it. the bed scene was all i ever wanted, the delivery of certain lines was impeccable, and the banter was absolutely top notch. combined with the insane chemistry the actors had and the fact that they got a fair amount of screen time for their story... it's the biggest win a fan could ever get out of an adaptation. feeling extremely good about s2, not so much about s3 but we can talk about that when the time comes :-)
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evcndiaz · 3 years
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the fact that u know i've been rosesau since 2017.... 💔
pls rosesau is practically your brand !!! she’s been around for a while ! rip to her
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tulipfarm · 3 years
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hello what the HELL
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you screaming in someone’s tags:
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me immediately after seeing it:
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bipercabeth · 3 years
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i’ve only just now understood ur iris messages tag
seed dearest i am so proud of u
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autumnmuses · 3 years
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vampire academy 🧍🏽‍♀️
added to TBR | on my TBR | couldn’t finish it | did not enjoy | it was OK | liked it | loved it | favorite | not interested | i just want a vampire series i enjoyed at age 15 to be adapted well For Once is that too much to ask
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officialkendallroy · 3 years
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yellow purple pink <3
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ngl idk what poggers means but try to kill me i'll say it to your face
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cuddlerlouis · 3 years
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oh cam... mal is very hated by a lot of ppl in the grishaverse fandom it's a travesty. but ur right he's a solid character who deserves better than he gets
wow really?? i understood there was some ship war going on so i thought this may have been the reason but i never thought it was really on his character 😶
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oretsev · 3 years
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hi sarah . need u to know i’m in love with ur brain
SEED ily and all your hot takes 
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aquickstart · 3 years
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ur tags abt unfollowers... literally me. like how tf did ppl assume i’d somehow NOT be on the side of palestinians
LIKEEE exactly. farewell to those people but i just cannot comprehend the thought process absolutely
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nicola-coughlan · 3 years
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you didn’t see that moment of insanity <3
SEED SKJFHSDK tumblr is literally malfunctioning for me rn so i had to go to your blog to see what you meant but wow i’m flattered
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oretsevs · 3 years
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of course the one time someone adds my tags to a post i’ve made a dumb typo shdjdkkd
and ofc the one time i add prev tags to a post i dont notice the typo 💀
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willsilvertongue · 3 years
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♣️ mwah mwah mwah
miss seed!!! just the person i wanted to see ty for gracing my inbox 💕💞
You’re my: go-to source for my daily dose of hilarity thanks to your anons DKJSLF no but in all honesty you're my daily dose of insightfulness bc i love seeing what you have to say about things, and also still hilarity bc you're genuinely very funny How I met you: again this is such a weird question since we all met online but alyssa tagged me in a post of recommended blogs for you to follow so i guess there!! Why I follow you: took a look at your blog which was very pretty and saw that you rbed poetry and text posts and stuff from a few shared fandoms. also noticed the comments you'd leave in the tags so i was like. this is a quality blog. also i discovered you were muslim which is always a bonus i love my muslim moots <3 Your blog is: everything i've listed already but it's even more exciting now bc of the s&b content. you put the best stuff on my dash and the mal defense period was SO fun (not for you probably i'm sure it got exhausting 💀) Your URL is: gonna say this about every beloved character but ICONIC! the gasp when i saw you changed it... but he's such a valid choice i'm glad you're associated with mal now Your icon is: VERY pretty i love them and i love the peach/beige colour and the sky in the background a lot A random fact I know about you: you take political science i think? or something politics/political i remember you complaining about readings once General opinion: very thankful to have you as a mutual i love it when we interact and again i truly love seeing what you have to say about stuff! even when it's 1D drama dskjfd i've learned so much and still know nothing A random thought I have: these are just things i am wishing for my mutuals but i hope your original writing is going well and that you get a week of brainless-free anons 😌
Mutuals send me “♧“ and I’ll do this!
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malinaa · 3 years
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go do ur homework 🔪
😞
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tulipfarm · 3 years
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sometimes i think about kanej a little too hard and it immediately melts my brain
same. they just give me that buzz
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