adyth_k

Omg omg omg omg omg 
          
          So… tomorrow I’m giving a debate speech. LIKE A FULL SPEECH. IN FRONT OF MY WHOLE COLLEGE. ON A TOPIC THAT IS SO PERSONAL IT HURTS. "This House believes that civil marriage should be entirely decoupled from the state, as the institution inherently privileges heteronormative structures, even when expanded to same-gender couples."
          
          Which, btw, basically means I’m literally coming out to everyone tomorrow.  I can’t. My hands are shaking just thinking about standing there, talking about queer love, my life, my dignity… AND TRYING NOT TO FAINT OR CRY IN FRONT OF EVERYONE.
          
          I’m excited? Yes. I’m proud? Yes. But also… I’m 99% panic, 1% trying to breathe.
          
          If anyone sees me tomorrow and I look like I might collapse mid-sentence… that’s me being human. That’s me being scared. That’s me being brave in the only way I know how.
          
          Send thoughts. Send luck. Send coffee. Send literally anything that will stop me from hyperventilating.
          
          Because tomorrow… I’m standing up, and I’m saying: this is me, my love is real, and it deserves to exist.

Everyone, gather around. I have survived a spiritual test I was NOT prepared for.
          
          For FOUR DAYS — count them, FOUR — two extra people were staying at my house.
          Which meant I had to act like the most wholesome, painfully heterosexual person alive living with my ✨best bro✨ like we were filming some PG-rated family sitcom.
          
          Meanwhile, inside?
          I was a pressure cooker.
          A kettle screaming.
          A Greek tragedy waiting to happen.
          
          And the worst part?
          Every time we so much as brushed shoulders, it felt like the universe was playing a laugh track over our suffering.
          
          Do you know the agony of wanting privacy and getting the EXACT opposite?
          I was emotionally on my knees.
          
          And listen…
          There may have been one moment — one reckless, water-involved moment — where we tried to reclaim even a microscopic shred of sanity.
          Very quick.
          Very stealth mode.
          Very “don’t breathe too loud or we’re doomed.”
          The guests were outside.
          We were inside.
          And that’s all I’m legally allowed to say.
          
          Anyway.
          
          Now that my house is no longer hosting half the population, I feel like a wild animal released back into its natural habitat.
          My spirit has re-inflated.
          I can hear birdsong again.
          
          Moral of the story:
          Houseguests are cute until they become unintentional romance-blocking NPCs and suddenly you’re living a life of silent suffering.

I JUST FOUND OUT something absolutely criminally adorable and I need everyone to gather around because I am losing my entire mind.
          
          So apparently, and he said this with a straight face, mind you, my boyfriend goes to the gym specifically so he can lift me during… the activities… the nightly aerobics, the demonic choreography, the door-shutting olympics, the devil’s tango…
          Yes. THAT.
          
          HE IS LITERALLY TRAINING LIKE I’M A BOSS BATTLE.
          
          The man is out here doing reps for me.
          Whipped? No, babes, he is M A R I N A T E D.
          Fully soaked. Slow-cooked. Tenderized.
          
          I don’t care what anyone says , that is PEAK romance.
          
          And as if that wasn’t enough, tell me WHY this menace went out at 2:00AM just to buy me samosas because I said “I kinda want something crispy”…
          TWO. A. M.
          He walked into the night like some feral delivery god on a mission.
          
          Like???! HELLO??! I LOVE THIS MAN.
          He is sweet, ridiculous, unhinged, and absolutely obsessed with me and honestly? same. I am obsessed right back.
          
          Anyways, I am currently kicking my feet and giggling and also trying not to combust because he really said
          “hold on babe let me get stronger so I can throw you around later.”
          
          This is my Roman Empire now.

I swear my boyfriend woke up today with one mission: DESTROY MY SANITY.
          The way he talks, the way he looks at me, the way he knows exactly what button to press—
          I’m one breath away from combusting on sight.
          
          He touched my shoulder for two seconds and my soul straight-up LEFT MY BODY.
          He laughs and my brain just shuts down.
          He leans in and suddenly I’m ready to make the kind of bad decisions Wattpad would censor.
          
          I’m not even pretending anymore.
          I’m down bad.
          Down catastrophic.
          Down apocalyptic.
          
          If he keeps acting like this, I’m going to end up doing things that cannot legally be written in this announcement.
          
          Consider this your warning:
          If I vanish later, just know I’m… occupied.
          For boyfriend reasons. 

Hi. I really like you, and I am here to give you a bit of advice. Stop following @/Revenge_Tastes_Sweet. They are crossing a line (suicide baiting, stalking), and are jealous of Siya (u can find her on my bio, she is rlly nice)- its your decision, but please do not make the same mistake as me. Thank you. 
          
          <3 Chu

There was nothing tender about it. It wasn’t lust, not really—more like hunger dressed in reverence. The kind that makes you forget your own name. His eyes were wild, like he’d found something divine and wanted to destroy it just to prove he could. Every breath between us was a dare, every shiver a confession neither of us meant to make. It felt less like being wanted and more like being devoured—like I’d been dragged somewhere between worship and ruin, and he didn’t care which one came first. I think he liked watching me fall apart, the way people like watching fires—fascinated, horrified, unable to look away.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ FIREWORK ⋆｡˚ ✧
          ꒰  a space to connect, create & share ꒱
          
          Ever wanted a place where you can just be?
          Where chats flow like midnight tea, playlists are traded, and creativity sparks?
          That’s Firework.
          
          Here, every conversation matters.
          Every idea, every laugh, every “did you see that?” gets a space.
          It’s not about knowing anyone — it’s about belonging.
          
          ✿ Creative events, casual chats, playlists & more
          ✿ Cozy corners, open hearts, warm threads
          ✿ A spark for everyone — come light yours in Firework
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/399063397-%E1%96%B4i%E1%96%87e%E1%97%AFo%E1%96%87k-%E1%95%BCi%E1%96%87i%E1%91%8Eg-%E1%97%B7ook

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ my exams = CANCELLED ❌
          contract law can go cry in a corner bc i am officially FREE ️️️
          
          instead of suffering w/ textbooks… i’ve been uhhh… (¬‿¬) keeping myself very occupied 
          let’s just say: zero case briefs, maximum stamina, and me walking around like 
          ₍₍ ◝( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)◟ ⁾⁾ ✨
          
          life rn =
          ☕ no sleep, only chaos
           legs = weak
           smile = suspiciously wide
           conclusion: i’m in my ✨“no exams, yes adult stuff”✨ era (ﾉ≧ڡ≦)
          
          ty life, u really did something here ♡(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
          
          so yeah — currently thriving, slightly feral, and very, very well taken care of 

so i innocently sat down to watch  the shine bl… and then mile & apo appeared on screen together and suddenly i was  in 2022, knees weak, heart racing, reliving every second of kinnporsche 
          
          the way they look at each other?? the micro-expressions, the tension, the gravity between them — it’s not acting, it’s straight-up witchcraft . one smile from apo, one stare from mile, and i’m right back to crying, screaming, and throwing up over kinn & porsche’s disaster mafia love story.
          
          so now i’m rewatching kinnporsche like i’ve never been emotionally traumatized before. every scene feels brand new, every touch feels illegal, every kiss feels like it’s rewiring my entire nervous system. 
          
          and honestly?? let’s be real — those two could tie me up, break me apart, use me six different ways, and i’d say “thank you sir, may i have another.” respectfully. disrespectfully. both. 
          
          basically: shine bl reminded me that kinnporsche owns my soul, mileapo own my sanity, and i’m just here… a law student, feral on the floor, writing my own thirst obituary, whilst I die tryna study constitutional law ✨✨

BESTIES.
          he didn’t just give head, he committed a HATE CRIME against my ability to stand. 
          man went feral — hands everywhere, mouth like he was trying to win a Michelin star, and that little hum he does??? I SAW GOD.
          my legs? shaking. my will to live? gone. my soul? somewhere in the corner, clapping.
          
          if this is what sin feels like, i’m never repenting.