#I will say again (I posted the video not too long ago already) that I think THAT'S the first time I've ever seen that lineup live too!!

[mc-critical]

Hatice and Ibrahim have never been more divided from each other up to that point than in E43-E44. While Hatice always sensed when Ibrahim was actually in danger or she's lost him in any way (i.e. E35 when she felt something in Edirne while Ibrahim was with Nigar), nothing came up when he was shot; he didn't even tell her what happened to him until she found out herself; they were seperated while he was recovering; the wait for Ibrahim to come back felt like an eternity to Hatice and she went through several breakdowns at once (and his carriage was right in front of her but she couldn't see him, her only thought until the very end was that he was dead, isn't that what her dream with the "crying" statues meant?); when he came back she wasn't allowed to spend at least some time alone with him as SS wanted to talk to him; even their sleep was interrupted. The only thing that Ibrahim asked Hatice to do was to play him his mother's song on the violin (I like to think that Hatice started learning the violin in order to become closer to him, to who he is, to his past again after what they went through with little Mehmet).... but he no longer associates even that with Hatice anymore.

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

[lupinqs]

FOCUS ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: practice gets a little steamy…

☆ ━ word count: 3.1K

☆ ━ warnings: smut (p eating, fingering, kinda public sex but ig not really)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: okay so this is SUCHHH a scrap, i have not proofread it either, it’s just not great, i’m not very happy with it but i wanted to post something so here it is i hope you all like it more than i do LOL

YOU’RE in Maryland, visiting Paige’s family. You and her got here a little under a week ago following the first round of Geno’s summer sessions. It’s been a lazy few days so far, full of long mornings spent in bed, video games on the couch with Drew, and afternoons tanning in the summer sun. It’s been nice; a solid break that the both of you need before what Paige has dubbed her “world tour” of the summer. You’re tagging along for parts of it—though not all of it—and it’s safe to say you’re not excited for the amount of plane rides and jet lag you’re about to face.

However, you and Paige both decided that a week of sitting on your asses might do more harm than good, so you’ve gathered yourselves at the local high school gym, getting some hoops in.

A few buddies of Paige’s, as well as Drew, tagged along in the beginning, but as the hours grew longer, they began to fizzle out. Drew is the last to leave, heading to his actual basketball practice with his own team.

And then it’s just you and Paige.

The two of you could leave now; you’ve certainly been here practicing long enough. However, you can see the itch of a smirk in Paige’s face and you know what she’s going to say before the words even leave her mouth.

“1v1?” she asks, a playful challenge in her eyes.

You smirk, taking the challenge as you always seem to do. “Not too scared you’ll lose again?”

Paige rolls her eyes at the reminder of the two of you’s last one-on-one game. She waves a hand, saying dejectedly, “You cheated.”

“Nope, you’re just a sore loser.”

Paige just shakes her head, grinning. “I’m not a sore loser because I didn’t lose.”

You decide that you’re not entertaining this. You’re well aware that she will continue bickering with you about it until you give in, admitting that she’s right and you’re not. It’s always this way; she will literally go on for hours if you let her. But, nonetheless, you both know the truth—which is, you definitely beat her in that game.

And, when you begin the game, the way the first few minutes are going makes you believe you may win this one, too. You’re up a good few points—Paige has been slacking on defense and you’ve been picking up the pace on offense. When you get another bucket on her, you grin widely, calling to your girlfriend, “Gee, you a little rusty, P Boogers?” You add the nickname KK’s created, knowing how much it annoys her.

However, Paige doesn’t bother responding, instead abruptly ripping her white long-sleeve over her head and tossing it across the gym on the other side of the court. Your grin falters at that, eyes soaking up Paige’s body. Jesus. Already, you can feel your heart start to race (and it’s not from the basketball game). Paige is wearing a Nike black sports bra, and, with her shirt now shed, the silver chains are on full display along her chest. Her basketball shorts are also rolled down, so that her whole torso is practically exposed, abs included. You feel your mouth salivate at the sight of Paige’s skin glistens with sweat, the way her abs flex, the way her arms look (you seem to grow fonder and fonder of them every day, especially since Paige has been in the weight room more often).

A small smirk paints Paige’s face as she takes in your surprised expression. She just raises her eyebrows, saying with a shit-eating grin, “What? It’s hot in here.”

You roll your eyes at Paige’s obviousness, opting to resume the game rather than respond to her. She’s back on offense, you on defense. You defend as you always would, hands raised, feet tracking your opponent’s, eyes flitting between the ball in Paige’s hand and Paige’s face. However, as your eyes trail between the two, they can’t help but track Paige’s abs, the sweat shining on her porcelain skin, the way her chains go with her every movement. You swallow thickly, doing your absolute best to concentrate on the game instead of your extremely sexy girlfriend.

“Focus, sweetheart,” Paige teases, dribbling the ball slowly. The nickname makes your heart stutter. “You’re gonna lose if you keep staring.”

And then she powers forward, scoring a layup with no hesitation. She grins and cocks her head at your bad defense, tsking as she asks, “Where’d that focus of yours go, hmm?”

Your cheeks flush at her words, and you grab the basketball, doing your best to lock in. “Nowhere, I am focused,” you argue, trying to get past the blonde’s defense.

“Oh, sure,” Paige murmurs in your ear, now with her front pressed flush against your back as you dribble, attempting to find a hole. She catches the way your face turns, looking to get through, but instead your eyes once again catch the chains that have begun to stick to her skin due to the sweat. Her smirk only grows, and she adds slowly, mockingly, “You are focused. Just… not on the game, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you grunt against her, trying to get a shot in. She doesn’t let you, blocking it. You groan a little as her hands snake around the ball, effectively stealing it from you.

“I will once you tell me what you’re so focused on that has you distracted from the game. You were just doing so well, beating me for once,” she says, egging you on.

You scoff, snapping, “You know damn well what I’m focused on.”

“I wanna hear you say it, baby,” she taunts, blue eyes squinting with mischief.

You hold her gaze for a long second. You could give her what she wants, say that the only thing you’re really able to focus on right now is just how fucking sexy she looks and how much you’d love to rip her clothes off right here, right now and fuck her. But, of course, you don’t. You’re just as stubborn as Paige is, so you simply utter, “No.”

A look of annoyance—that satisfies you very much—flits across her face. She shrugs, saying, “Fine then.”

You continue the game, but things seem to only be looking worse for you. No matter how much you try to fight it, try to focus on the basketball and the basketball only, it’s like your eyes have a mind of their own, and they seem to stay locked on Paige’s body. And, of course, Paige takes every opportunity she can to flaunt it, knowing full well the effect it has on you. Her smirk never fades, especially as she gets closer and closer to winning.

However, it seems like Paige has finally had enough with the teasing. She drives to the basket, right past you (you let her; you’re done with this game), making a final layup. She then turns to you, catching sight of the way you stand there watching her, having not bothered to defend that final play. “Game over,” Paige announces. You can’t help but notice how her voice is lower, more huskier than usual. It means you’re probably going to get what you want.

You step closer, eyes darkening with pure want. You’ve given up pretending that you don’t. “You’re such a tease, Bueckers.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, her smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “Oh, yeah?” She steps closer, her body almost brushing against yours. “Maybe you just needa learn to focus better.”

The air between you is charged, and before you can even respond, Paige has you pushed against the wall of the gym, her chest pressed against yours, her face so close her nose nearly touches your own. The sound of the both of your breathing fills the space, heavy and expectant.

Paige’s eyes lock onto yours, and—without an ounce of hesitation—she leans in, her lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. It’s almost instinctual at this point, the way your respond to it. Your hands find their way to Paige’s back, pulling her closer as the blonde’s tongue traces your lips slowly, seeking entry. You willingly part them, allowing Paige to explore your mouth passionately. She’s going fast, and if you weren’t so used to it, it might’ve been hard for you to keep up. Nevertheless, you do, albeit with a couple teeth clashes.

Paige’s hands slide from their spot on your hips up to cup your face, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own fingers trail from her back, tracing her sweaty skin, until they thread through Paige’s hair, effectively ruining the once slicked back bun (not that either of you care much).

Paige breaks away from your mouth, trailing a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. You can’t help but tilt your head back, granting the blonde better access to your neck. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the shallow pants escaping your mouth as Paige’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear.

And then you feel her teeth biting. It’s not enough to truly hurt, but it’s enough to elicit a whimper from you—a sound that Paige loves. She does it again, gets the same reaction, and then soothes the area with a flick of her tongue. Paige’s kisses trail down the expanse of your neck, surely leaving marks that you know you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. But you don’t have it in yourself to care much about that because each press of Paige’s lips, each gentle scrape of her teeth, each soothing lap of her tongue, sends shivers down your spine and heat through your core.

Your hands tighten in Paige’s hair as she reaches the hollow of your throat, sucking hard. You feel your hips involuntarily arch toward Paige, seeking more contact. The blonde smirks against your neck, pleased with your reaction. She moves lower, kissing along the line of your collarbone, hands sliding under your tank top to caress the soft skin of your stomach.

You feel your breath hitch as Paige grows more insistent, tongue darting out to taste the salty tang of sweat that permeates your skin. Her hands travel upward beneath your shirt, fingers brushing the underside of your breasts. Your eyes flutter open at that, remembering where you are.

“Paige, we really shouldn’t,” you say, but your voice shakes and your hands find their way to the blonde’s abs, tracing the defines muscles and betraying your words. “Anyone could walk in,” you add, attempting to keep yourself composed.

Paige’s lips capture yours in a fierce kiss, silencing your protests. Her hands are cupping your breasts through your sports bra now, and she manages to reassure you between kisses, “No one’s gonna walk in.”

And, just like that, your resolve seems to crumble. That always happens with Paige—it’s so easy with her, and, though, sometimes it does frustrate you, you usually don’t regret it. “Fuck, P,” you gasp, fingers digging into your girlfriend’s skin.

She grins against your lips, and her right hand slowly but surely trails its way from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. It slips beneath them and you feel yourself growing hotter—and wetter—with each passing second.

Paige’s fingers slowly begin to tease your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that make your knees go weak. It’s in stark contrast to her kisses, so fast-paced you can hardly breathe. Eventually, you manage to break the kiss, gasping raggedly, voice a mix of desperation and need, “Quit teasing.”

Paige’s smirk only seems to widen, and her pupils—which are blown so much that her blue eyes look nearly black—are full of lust. “Am I teasing?” she asks, fingers sliding through your slick folds.

You feel your heartbeat stutter and your core pulsing with utter need. “You know you are,” you mutter, glaring. She presses her thumb harder against your clit, though it’s not in the way you need it (and she knows it). “Quit it.”

“As you wish,” she murmurs, lips ghosting along your earlobe. Without hesitation, she dips two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion causing you to gasp loudly, arching against Paige’s touch.

“Shit,” you breathe out, hands gripping Paige’s sides for support. Your head leans back against the gym wall, and Paige resumes the kissing on your neck, marking it up even more. Her fingers continue inside you with a steady rhythm, each thrust drawing out sharp gasps from your lips.

“So wet for me, baby,” Paige says against your skin, biting your shoulder lightly as she curls her fingers. You outright moan at that, and she asks, “How long you been dripping like this, waitin’ for me?”

“All day,” you admit between whimpers, practically shaking against Paige. Her fingers go deeper, fucking up into you harder. “Paige, please,” you beg, eyes squeezing shut.

Paige’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “Please what, baby?” she teases, fingers hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs feel like jelly.

“Fuck, your mouth,” you manage to gasp out between moans, body heating up with each passing second. “Please, P, I want your mouth.”

You watch as Paige’s eyes darken with hunger at your words, and you feel your heartbeat begin to quicken. “Whatever you want,” the blonde murmurs, voice filled with promise. She pulls her fingers out of you, savoring the way you practically whimper at the loss. Then, with deliberate slowness, she sinks to her knees before you, her hands sliding your shorts down with her.

Paige glances up at you, blue eyes full of a mischief and a smirk that you’ve had a habit of kissing off her face. You can’t help but think about just how fucking good Paige looks like this, cheeks rosy, lips kiss-swollen, sweat shining along every expanse of skin that’s exposed—which is a lot. Your eyes wander from her face to her chest and shoulders to her abs and back. And when your eyes meet hers again, the look in them… Jesus fuck. The sight is genuinely almost enough to make you come right then and there.

And you know that Paige knows the effect she has on you. You can tell in the way her smirk sits on her face, the way her eyebrows raise slightly, the way she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh—so close yet so far from where you really need her.

But she doesn’t tease for long, because when she finally reaches your core, she wastes no time, her tongue flicking out to taste you.

She starts with long, slow licks, gradually building the tension in you. Each stroke of her tongue makes you feel like you’re on Cloud 9 and about to have a stroke all at once. Your fingers tighten in her hair, hips arching toward Paige’s mouth, seeking more contact.

Paige understands—truthfully, she’s so familiar with your body at this point, that you can’t remember the last time she didn’t understand what you wanted—and she dips her tongue into your entrance. Her fingers trail from their grip on your hip to your clit, rubbing in firm, quickening circles. The dual sensation makes you cry out, your nails digging into the skin of your palm, your other hand tightening in Paige’s hair, pulling slightly. She lets out a satisfied hum against you at that, and the vibrations send a new wave of pleasure through you.

Paige knows exactly what you like, and she certainly uses that to her advantage. She curls her tongue inside you, seeking out that one spot that makes you see stars. The noises coming from your mouth begin to grow louder, your hips grinding against Paige’s face, still desperate for more.

“Fuck, Paige— God,” you moan, voice breaking. “I need… I need more.”

Surprisingly, Paige doesn’t make a comment about how needy you are, instead opting to do as you say. She pulls her tongue out, replacing it with two fingers, thrusting them deep inside your cunt. At the same time, she focuses her mouth back on your clit, sucking and licking so fervently you fear she might make you faint from her head game.

Paige can feel your legs trembling, the strain of standing becoming too much. Without breaking her rhythm, she throws one of your legs over her shoulder, giving herself more leverage, her tongue and fingers continuing their relentlessness. You can feel the pressure building within you, threatening to snap.

“God, you taste s’good,” Paige murmurs against your wet pussy. You catch the way your arousal is coating her chin and the sight of it—along with a deeper curl of her fingers—makes you moan loudly. “So sweet. ’Could do this all fuckin’ day, if you let me. ’Would make you come a million times over, baby.”

You cry out again, both at her words and the pace of her fingers curling and thrusting, the wetness of her mouth on you. Your body tenses, every muscle coiled tight as you hover on the brink of release. Paige senses how close you are and doubles down, adding a third finger and sucking hard on your clit.

That’s all it takes. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your entire body shuddering with the force of it. You moan out Paige’s name, your fingers gripping her hair so tightly that it has to hurt (though Paige doesn’t mind). She helps you ride out your high, her fingers and tongue working together to prolong your pleasure.

Finally, when your body goes limp and your breathing begins to slow, Paige pulls back, planting soft, soothing kisses along your inner thighs. She looks up at you, her lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied grin on her face.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” Paige says, eyes trailing all along your body.

You can only nod, still too breathless to form a coherent response. Your heart swells as Paige stands, pulling you in for a kiss. Her tongue slips in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan against her lips, your hands wrapping around her neck, pulling her closer. You stay like that for a moment—you savoring Paige, Paige savoring you—before finally breaking apart, both of you breathless and smiling.

“I love you,” Paige murmurs, planting a short peck on your lips. Then your nose. Then your forehead. “We should probably put your clothes back on, though, before someone does walk in on us.”

[zeltqz]

call me or not, it's up to you.

☰ — synopsis : you come back home after a night out and see you accidentally posted your private stories public, and received a drunk lengthy voicemail from your ex, ran.

☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader ☰ — length : 2.4k words ☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence (sanzu being sanzu), slight phone sex; they don't directly communicate, ran being mildly toxic and messing with your emotions, teeny itsy bitsy drops of gaslighting ☰ — notes : i literally suck at writing toxic characters so im SORRY if this is literal ass, (im trying my hardestttt) i just had a dream about this and had to execute it as best as i could lol

It was a regular Thursday night when you stumbled into your date’s house, struggling to walk with half a heel working. 

“Let’s get you out of these.” He knelt before you and helped you unbuckle your heels and you sighed in relief when he slipped them both off. 

“Remind me to never wear heels again,” you giggled, clutching onto him. He leaned down and kissed you. You hummed, still feeling the buzz from the alcohol earlier and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing him back. “I had fun tonight.”

He cupped both your cheeks in his hands and peppering them with kisses, each of them making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. “Me too.” There was a final lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Let’s get you ready for bed, alright?” He traced your cheekbones with his finger, and you smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Okay.” He helped you up the stairs and you collapsed onto his bed, your dress riding up your thighs as you laid there, clutching at his soft sheets.

“I’m gonna shower first, alright babe?” He said in the process of removing his shirt. “Wanna join me?”

You shook your head, eyes threatening to close shut as you nuzzled his pillow. “I’m alright. You go first.”

He bit his lip, admiring you splayed out on the sheets for a moment, his mind racing with all the things he could do you tonight if you’d join him in the shower. But of course his fantasies only stay in his head since you’ve been rejecting every single one of his advances for the last three months. It’s always the same excuses : you’re not in the mood, or you’re too tired. 

He sighed. “You sure babe?”

You’re half asleep at this point, just barely conscious as you murmur, “‘m sure.” His tongue poked his cheek and he nodded, saying nothing else and heading inside the bathroom. 

You vaguely hear the shower turn on and about to enter a deep sleep when your phone buzzes.

@/shibayuzuha : oh my god who is this man u’re with on ur story? He is CUTE!!

@/hina_tachibana : was this supposed to be posted on your main? 😢

“What story?” you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. You click  through your instagram story and rewatch the story you posted a few hours earlier when you were at the club. They were all videos of you and Masato dancing together, kissing, taking shots. Honestly you were buzzed the entire night and you thought you posted them on your private account, much less your close friends. “Oh fuck.”

You went to delete all the stories but the damage was already done, over 300 people already saw it. Oh well. That’s tomorrow’s problem. 

You lay back down, eyelids blinking slowly as you fight back sleep and check your missed phone calls you accidentally ignored. That’s when you see it. A voicemail from Haitani Ran. Any ounce of sleep in your body vanished the moment you sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes checking if you saw correctly.

It was over five minutes long and part of you wanted to delete it, but at this moment, you couldn’t help but be curious. You pressed play and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hey. It’s me. Hope I’m not blocked or whatever, I know how petty you can get.” He chuckled to himself and the deep rumble of it took you back to all those months ago when you’d be laying beside him, head on his chest and just listen to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke on the phone.

There was a deep inhale and the familiar crackle of him smoking that always used to relax you. “Saw your story by the way. Is that your new boy toy? Two of you look good together.” He exhaled and his voice was kinda slurred. “Kinda glad you moved on though. Thought you’d never get over me to be honest.”

“Oh fuck off,” you mumbled. He was still as full of himself as he was when you both ended things almost a year ago. If this was a regular phone call you would’ve hung up or told him he’s not that special, but you looked down and still saw another six minutes left. What the fuck else could he possibly have to say to you?

He chuckled again, and it was so obvious he was drunk now, which surprised you as he was a heavy weight and in your three years of dating you saw him get drunk only twice. 

“You looked so fucking sexy in that dress, baby.” His groan had you squeezing your thighs together. “I can tell by the way he was holding you in those fucking videos he can’t handle you the way I can. He hasn’t fucked you yet, has he? Bet he’s real gentle and sweet with you not knowing you like it deep, and rough. Fuck, man.” He exhaled, rubbing his palm on his face. “Wanna know what I’d do if I was there with you baby?”

“...yes,” you whispered weakly to yourself. It was pointless; he couldn’t hear you and yet you were responding like he could. Blame it on the alcohol but there was nothing you wanted more than Ran right now.

“Bet you do. I’ll humour you though. I’ll take you to the dance floor and run my hands all over that body of yours, force that pretty head of yours back so I can mark all over your neck. Get you so hot and bothered till you’re begging me to fuck you. That happened one time didn’t it? Remember that one night in the club? I had my hands all over you and you dared me to flip your skirt up and fuck you right there. Man, you were such a tease, and a fucking sadist too. Remember when you said you wanted to watch some schmuck clean up my cum from the floor?”

You giggled and bit your lip, teasing your hands down your stomach. You remembered that night perfectly. Ran changed you when you were dating. You don’t even recognise yourself right now because everything just felt right when you were with him. Those years with him were the best of your life, you were young and figuring shit out. You’re still young and figuring shit out, but without him you’re taking a little longer to come to the conclusion of certain things.

Ran had his ups and downs. He was far from the perfect boyfriend, and he knew that. That’s why he was so surprised when you stayed for all those years despite his flaws. He was emotionally unavailable and never spoke about anything concerning him. He was sometimes rude and blunt when pissed off, and the arguments you both would get into would end up in the two of you ignoring each other for weeks. At first you’d be the one to break the silence and show up to his house and just hug him. He’d always smell like cigarettes and it should’ve disgusted you yet you couldn’t help but feel comfort. The smell was strong and yet it never bothered you when you smelt it on him. You’d apologise, crying in his arms as he embraced you back, rubbing up and down your back as you vented it all out in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears. If he had people over he’d tell them to get the fuck out, hiding your face in his chest until the door closed.

That was the usual routine until the arguments got worst and your pride grew stronger and you’d refuse to talk to him  until he broke it first. He didn’t believe you at first but after a month of no contact he finally broke it first. Since then, he was always the one apologising first, showing up to your house in the middle of the night at random hours to tell you he’s sorry and didn’t mean what he’d said. 

The ups were better than the downs in the relationship. He’d teach you things, he always made you feel good, and simply being next to him was enough to make your entire week, even if it's for a few hours. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, like the most special girl to exist, and he helped boost your confidence by buying you nice things like clothes, accessories, lingerie, and tell you to look at yourself in the mirror and watch as he worships your body, taking his time to kiss his way down your stomach and thighs, and once he got to your pussy he swore  he could eat you out for hours, just until your thighs were shaking around him.

The memory of his tongue between your legs had your back arching off the bed clutching the phone tighter to your ear as you squeezed a hand between your legs, playing with yourself as he talked you through it over the phone.

“Bet you’re touching yourself right now,” he exhaled shakily. “If you’re not, you better start. Want you to remember how well I fucked you every time. Can you do that for me baby?”

“Mmhmm.” Thankfully Masato takes decades in the shower so you didn’t have to worry about him walking in or hearing. Not like you would’ve cared honestly. He’s not Ran, and he won’t ever be.

“Miss you being my good girl. Fuck. He doesn’t deserve to have his hands all over you. Should send Sanzu over and fuck, get him to cut all his fucking fingers off for touching you like that. Man, I bet that idiot doesn’t know that I fucked you in that same dress you know? That’s what got me so damn bothered right now. Wearing the shit I bought you to go fuck around?”

“‘M sorry,” you whimper, parting your folds and slipping as many fingers as you could fit inside without hurting yourself. No matter whatever you shove inside there, it never feels as good as Ran’s fingers, or tongue, or cock. “Need you so bad Ran.”

“Man, wanna hear how you sound right now. Bet you sound so sweet, like usual. Could you do something for me?” You nodded and stopped your fingers movements, listening to his next words.

“Call me again. I miss you so much it’s crazy. Got so much to talk to you about. It’s been how long? Couple months since I last heard from you. And I know you don’t hate me. You never could. That’s something I love about you. Always there for me when I need you. We both took each other for granted, you know? Deny it all you want but you did. And that’s okay. But I wanted to let you know if you ever come back into my life, I’m not letting you go. For real, not making that mistake again. I dunno why I called you tonight honestly, just drank a lot and now I fucking miss you. Call me or not, it’s up to you.”

Then he said the words that made your heart nearly stop and freeze over in your chest. “I love you.” 

Before you could even say it back the voicemail ended, leaving you conflicted.

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

Hey, @ladiesinwait, sorry to have spied on your tags, but if you didn't know that Patti Quatro joined Fanny toward the end of Fanny's (then) band career, you might be interested in seeing this: Don Kirshner's Rock Concert featuring Fanny live from 1974 on Youtube. Patti's on guitar (in addition to temporary replacement for Brie Darling, Cam Davis on drums - for the tour, according to Patti), and it's honestly amazing that seemingly no matter who Fanny employed after June and Alice left, the energy of their live shows never really seemed to waver. Energy-wise, live, Fanny always seemed to be Fanny, which is 100% worth witnessing (and dancing to!), even in retrospect. :D

Fanny performing their song "The First Time" live on the TV show aired via PBS, The Session, in 1972.

[enhaven]

[7:39pm] — sjy (m.)

pairing ⇢ jake x reader

summary ⇢ jaeyun’s wondering which part of his fit made you barge to his place when he has a flight to catch.

warnings ⇢ unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, orgasm delay/denial, he takes it from behind, this is a bit toxic but idk it’s angsty too ig

a/n: change of plans. was gonna post something else but i saw this edit again on twt someone help me i can’t do this

you honestly have no idea which one it is.

but Jake doesn’t stop asking you, delaying your orgasm each time you respond with a noncoherent answer. you don’t even know why he does when he’s supposed to leave a couple of minutes ago.

you caught him by the door earlier just in time when he was about to close it, throwing yourself at him for a tight hug. he instantly put his arms around you, returning it with the same intensity without a word.

he knows you after all. which is why his incessant questions irked you a lot.

“tell me baby, was it the chains?” he rasps behind you, leaning his body closer to yours. by doing so, your skin and his touches and you feel the cold of his necklace brushing against your burning skin.

it doesn’t help that his pace turned into slow strokes now, allowing you to feel every inch of his cock while he hits that soft spot inside you. his hand that was gripping your hips comes up to part the hair that was covering the back of your neck.

then his plump lips are mouthing your shoulders, trailing sideways throughout your neck until he reaches the tip of your ear and bites it.

“jake..jake-y please” you beg for the nth time but he can’t seem to hear you with how loud he’s being, moaning right by your ear as his body pins you to the surface.

“you can’t just come here and not precisely tell me why right?” he asks again with that thick accent of his that sounds so good in your ears.

a deep chuckle resonates from him when you whine but you're hoping that's enough of an answer. if you didn’t hear the mocking tone in this voice, you’d mistake it for something else.

how can you tell him that it’s because you miss him. you can’t possibly inform him that knowing he might use it against you later on.

“ah..j-jaeyun…”

“fuck, you can’t really resist me can’t you?” he continues, ignoring your pleas as he leans back up and fastens his pace.

he’s right, you can’t. or you wouldn’t come running here to see him before he leaves the country for you don’t know how long. ending whatever between you was clearly a mistake when by the end of the day, you’d always come running back to him.

it took one video he posted on ig for your resolve to crumble.

now you’re moaning uncontrollably against the kitchen island, holding the sides of the surface with all your might as he fucks you relentlessly from behind. it must’ve been you moaning jaeyun the entire time, something that you noticed a few times since sleeping with him.

he did say he likes it when you call him that.

"c-close, i'm close..."

"i know baby, i can feel you gripping me so tight" he groans, throwing his head back when he feels your warm cum around his dick. he slows his thrusts then, hand switching from supporting his strength to caressing your twitching body.

god he’d love to pull your hair and do more but you look so spent already, panting so hard with your cheeks planted on the surface.

“so it’s the glasses then” he chuckles amusingly after catching your eyes staring at the sunglasses sitting across your face that the company sent for him to wear.

“yeah..owh!”

jake hurriedly pulls your body up, turning you around before inserting himself back in your pussy.

“fuck, baby, i–..”

“want it inside me?” you ask like you’re offering his favourite ice cream but your eyes are half-lidded. he couldn’t take it anymore, a few curses escaping his lips as he slams his hips against yours.

“mhmm, always, s-shit, always” he groans against your neck, never forgetting to leave kisses while you thread your hands his moussed hair.

oh how you’d love to hear that word from him in another scenario but you’d take this. even if it’s just because of the heat of the moment.

“give it to me..then..” your sensitive walls welcomed his load, relishing feeling so full of his cum. he brings his face close to yours, his habit of biting his lower lip spurring you to clench around his cock.

you’re tempted to kiss him, wanting to feel those full lips against yours but you digress. he’s probably waiting for it but you can’t add it to the plethora of dumbassery that you’ve done because of him.

.

he stays inside you for a while until he’s done riding out his high even though his phone won’t stop ringing. he’s purposefully ignoring it, continuing to leave wet kisses along your neck so you nudge him to take it.

“the babies have been calling” he laughs breathlessly, pushing his hair back while his other hand types reply in their group chat. he steps back and walks around, probably looking for a tissue box to clean you up a bit.

how sweet. it made you grimace internally.

“you’re surely get an earful from wonie” you reply fondly while he wipes his cum spilling out from you. the mention of his friends whom he treats like little brothers momentarily distracted you.

then you remembered that he might miss his flight because of you so you stop him, taking over so he could redress and fix himself.

“i’ll be back before you know it” he grabs your jaw and gives you a kiss on your lower cheek, so near your lips before picking up his black leather bag somewhere beside you.

as much as jake wanted to kiss you, he wasn’t sure if you wanted it on your lips. he did see the hesitation on your face earlier while you were lost in a trance, staring at his lips. he's not sure what's stopping you but it must be linked to your reason for letting him fuck you again.

you watch Jake fling his bag over his shoulders, putting on the sunglasses before he retreats to the door.

oh he’ll be back for sure, but certainly not to you. that’s why you lied earlier, playing it safe knowing how unpredictable Jake could be. having him again calmed your fear of losing him for good but you've long realized how temporary this is, a facade that you're hoping to keep up for as long as you can.

.

e/n: i tried freewriting in my other blogs and i feel like it’s making write lmao so here we are, not proofread or edited 💋🤧

[allfortheslay25]

Sorry to that one person who asked about more Milo in my inbox. The ask disappeared and has yet to come back after the draft refused to post so I’ll be posting it just like this.

Hopefully you see it🙏

I should probably mention I wrote this chapter years ago but only adjusted some things at the beginning of the year before January

Milo Future Spoilers

There was nothing like the humidity of South Carolina; damp, sweltering, and mouth drying.

Neil smacked his lips and wiped sweat off the back of his neck. No, nothing like it.

The press of something freezing was soothing for a split second before it was alerting. Neil flinched away from the cold glass bottle Andrew pushed against his neck before taking it.

"Thanks."

Andrew squatted next to him, picking under his armbands to collect the sweat building up under them. Neil stared because Neil liked this pair. A shade of white with the thinnest pair of double orange stripes down the inner forearm. Andrew didn't wear them for much. It didn't go with the silver and gold tone of his uniform nor the black of his wardrobe. He hadn't really put them on since Allison gifted them to him back in 2012.

Andrew took Neil's soda from him after watching the man do little to open the damn thing. He popped off the cap, licking the back before pressing it to Neil's forehead.

Neil quirked up a smile. "It's fresh."

Andrew just turned away with his own drink half done.

"Where the fuck is Nicky? It's boiling out here!" Allison shouted from where she was handing out drinks.

Aaron flicked cooler water at Matt when the man attempted to steal the last lemonade. "Probably got sidetracked talking about Germany again. He acts as if we haven't been caught up with him in the last week."

Kevin rattled the doors like a madman. "Let me in.

We're right here, let me in!"

It would have been hilarious, enough to bring smiles and teasing from the old Foxes. But recently, with Kevin's publicized relapse and his alleged divorce from Thea, well, no one was laughing at Kevin these days.

The outer court walls had seen better days too.

The orange paint had faded to a yellow hue, chipped and dusty with tagging unwashed at the corners. Neil knew the Palmetto Foxes had been on a fortunate rise and he knew sometime after his leave did it begin to fall apart. Wymack bit off more than he could chew, they said. Too many scandals, too many suicides and murders, too many delinquents being allowed on a court. But Neil supposes they did well enough to keep those doors open another year.

Neil's drink was promptly swiped from his hands, the culprit? His son, Milo.

"If you're not gonna drink it at least don't let it go hot."

Neil squinted up at the boy. He did that standing too. Milo had hit puberty and outgrew Neil sometime between 12 and 13, but then the growing never stopped. He stood now, at an even 6ft with no chance of finishing his growth spurt.

Lanky and awkward teenage limbs, freckled and messy haired, Milo somehow stopped looking like Neil. Everyone always says his baby face is nostalgic to first year Neil Josten, but if you put the pictures side by side, Milo always had something Neil didn't. There was a sharpness to him, something he couldn't hide better than Neil.

"Kevin, stop playing with the doors, you'll break them." Renee chastised. It was a miracle to have her here with them in the flesh at all. She spent most of their reunions on video chat with low internet. "I'm sure Coach will be here soon with the keys."

Milo, soda long finished, turned to Kevin with an otter pop between his teeth. "Does it bother you that much?" He mumbled.

Kevin let go of the doors with reluctance. "No... I just... I want to see it already."

Milo hummed around his treat before standing and marching over to the doors. He hip checked Kevin—an eerie sight as they stood head to head in height—and pulled something from his pocket.

Milo fiddled with the fence and it sprung open.

The Old Foxes stared in disbelief.

"You had the keys the whole time? Milo!" Dan said.

Milo shrugged, displaying a paperclip and a hairpin. He shoved the fence out the way and marched on to the doors he'd need a code for. As Milo fooled around with it, the Foxes all turned to Neil with faces of amusement and exasperation.

"He's your son alright." They said.

"Little Josten."

"Little Monster." They all cooed.

"That's 'Little Minyard-Josten' to you." Milo announced before punching a button on the door.

It beeped and clicked and Milo turned the handle to allow everyone inside.

"How did you know the code!?" Kevin wondered.

"They just had a baby, no?" Milo pointed out. "It's always been someone's birthday."

The foyer was almost the same as they'd all last seen it. Orange benches were set here and there, and the floor was white tile with orange paw prints. Orange cones were stacked in a corner, three deep and six high. A white door was on the wall to their right, and an orange door was opposite them. Only difference was there was a crack in the wall no one patched up, and the white tiles had muddled down to a moppy grey.

Milo moved past it to the gear closet. As the Old Foxes looked around and chatted about memories a decade old, Milo had suited up and stolen a racquet.

"Should we let him keep doing that?" Allison muttered to the rest.

"Leave him be, this is the most excited we've seen him since before the B R E A K U P call." Dan whispered.

"You know he can spell faster than us, right?"

Aaron whispered back.

"And you know you're a bad whisperer, right?"

Matt countered.

"Cousins!" Anything Aaron was about to say was cut off by Nicky's loud arrival. He raced towards Aaron and Andrew, bringing them into tight squeezes despite the twos wriggling.

Neil smiled because it'd been three years since Andrew had told Nicky he could hug him without asking. Andrew sometimes snapped that he was sick of it, but Andrew had also told Neil years ago that he didn't do regret.

Nicky let out a sharp gasp from his position in hugging Neil. He all but shoved the man into Matt before springing himself onto Milo. "My baby nephew! You've gotten so big! Last time I saw you you were definitely a head shorter! What are they feeding you? Is it Kevin's diet?"

Milo smiled and hugged Nicky as hard as he could despite the pads. "A mix of junk food and Kevin's dietary plan I only follow when I'm bored."

Kevin sent him a glare for that but went back to finding proper gear without a word.

"How did any of you get inside?" Wymack wondered gruffly. Standing in the flesh, was their beloved coach who hadn't seemed to age a day in their eyes. The only thing new was the baby attached to his chest.

Everyone flooded his space in an instant, cooing and awing at the little infant with orange bows in her curly hair. It was a shame Kevin had to be the one to tell them Wymack and Abby were having a baby. He was too excited to remember they wanted to surprise everyone. Sarah was adopted by them as soon as she'd been born, the baby of a previous Fox who didn't want children. None of them knew her from anything other than the tabloids that printed her face everywhere on Exy news the week after her discharge from the hospital. She dropped out of Palmetto soon after and was in the wind before Wymack and Abby could say goodbye.

"Okay you animals, get your diseased faces out of my baby's face. And Kevin, get your face out that closet and hug me dammit."

Kevin paused from where he was pulling a pair of gloves out of the gear closet to sheepishly shuffle over to his father.

"Where's Abby?" Kevin asked as he smiled at

Sarah's squinty face.

"Napping. She wanted to come by but I told her we'd be here all day and she can stop by when she's had at least an hour of sleep." Wymack said.

He tossed the court keys at Neil who used them to unlock all of the doors inside.

Before anyone finished dressing, Jeremy Knox and Jean Moreau knocked on the locker room doors. This reunion was special, a chance for Jean to see Renee, and Jeremy to see Kevin in an act of support in these dire times.

Having so many professional exy stars in one room felt charged in a way. Kevin seemed ready to cream his pants, or so Andrew commented.

Jeremy looked good in orange and Jean looked like he'd rather do the scrimmage naked. But Neil only had eyes for Andrew whose old uniform stretched on him like a wet dream.

"Can you even play like that?" Aaron smirked, silently laughing at Andrew's predicament. Aaron hadn't been on his college grind in so long, he'd lost muscle mass but gained a healthy weight that his uniform fit almost perfectly.

Andrew silently knocked Aaron on the shoulder with his racquet and clicked his tongue at the weight of it. Neil understood the feeling. Their old racquets were like feathers, Neil wasn't sure he could play with something so lightweight.

Milo was setting up cones and baskets of exy balls with cheerfulness. He was running around the court with a giddiness that rubbed off onto everyone else.

"Don't forget to stretch," Kevin reminded him.

Milo turned and threw his body into a bridge position before resting into a handstand.

"Show off." Kevin grumbled as Jeremy laughed.

Milo properly stretched afterward, first to finish as he picked up the basket of exy balls.

"I wanna show you something. Miss Renee, may you take the goal for me?" Milo asked.

“My pleasure,” Renee said with a smile. She gave Andrew a friendly pat on the shoulder and took her place in the goal.

“We don’t have all day, Milo.” Kevin complained.

“Let him do what he wants, it’s his first game playing with us.” Dan said.

“My first game playing with you guys was actually in the morning of July 14th, 2006. It was my ‘Unbirthday’ as uncle Nicky put it and Matt knocked me onto my back.” Milo said as he got into position.

“You can’t count that as a real game.” Kevin said.

Milo smiled over his shoulder, one of the ones that made the Foxes refer to him as ‘Little Monster’ at times. “Shut up, Day, and watch this.”

He looked back at Renee who nodded at him and got into position. The stance was loose but almost as sturdy as it’d been all those years ago. Milo took up a ball and tossed it to her lightly, allowing her to hit it back far enough he’d have to chase it down the court. And Milo did. He didn’t want to see where it was headed. With bullet-like speed he took off, throwing himself from the wall, flying down the court before anyone could do much as turn their heads. The ball hit a far wall and came back. Milo jumped, snatching it from the air and landing on his left foot before propelling himself forward. He made light work of the cones and within 10 steps, scored on Renee. Neil didn’t know why but when Milo had taken the ball, he waited for a pass to someone who wasn’t there. It itched at his brain in a familiarity he couldn’t place.

Andrew narrowed his eyes before his mouth quirked into one of his amused expressions.

“What?” Neil wondered a little too loud.

“He’s just doing the most for no reason.” Kevin interrupted.

“He just mimicked Neil’s exact play his first time at a Fox match.” Andrew corrected.

Everyone turned to him in confusion.

Neil looked back, running it through his head but that game had been so long ago he didn’t remember.

Dan's eyes lit up, though. “He passed to me. Neil, you did that same jump thing your first game—back when Seth was taken off and you made your debut. You passed to me because someone was on your ass.”

“There’s no way. We can’t even remember it clearly. No one can say for sure.” Allison said.

Andrew tapped his temple. “I can. Memory like a steel trap, I never took my eyes off him. I’m the one who passed the ball to Neil.”

“It’s a fluke.” Kevin said.

Milo whistled at them to get everyone’s attention. “I’m not finished.” He tossed another ball to Renee. “I’ll call it for you this time; Seth Gordon 2006.” Milo changed the grip on his racquet, hands lower as his fingers gesture higher. He straightened his back and ran a few seconds after the ball flew, watching it with his eyes and racing at a slower yet more desperate pace. Once he’d caught it, he whipped it over his shoulder with such speed and strength, it nearly clipped Renee on the shoulder.

“There’s no way to guarantee that.” Kevin hissed.

Milo tossed another ball and cocked his head at Kevin. “Really? Let’s get more famous. Let’s see…” Milo tapped the button of his racquet against the floor and passed his stick to his left hand and the movement was so specific, Jean and the Foxes straightened in disbelief. “Kevin Day, 2007.” Milo called, once again changing his posture. The ball went and Milo moved, catching it and weaving around cones with such single mindedness it was breathtaking. Renee was serious now as she waited, eager to stop Milo but incapable of accomplishing it. The ball whistled past her ear and the Foxes roared in incredulous excitement.

“Join me, will you, Mister Knox?” Milo asked.

Jeremy smirked and followed onto the court. He attempted to take up a backliner position but Milo moved him into the striker mark. He passed a ball to Jeremy and motioned for him to continue. The Foxes readied for whatever trick Milo held up his sleeve next. He moved his racquet back to his right and hunched his shoulders a bit in a way that left him open for injury. Jeremy moved to get past him and Milo hooked his foot around his and sent him stumbling. Milo then yanked his stick out of his unassuming hands with a simple twist, stealing the ball and sending it across the court to be slammed into the goal wall.

“Jean Moreau, 2005.” Milo said. Jeremy was on his ass behind him, clutching his wrist in surprise.

“That was a dirty move. I had so much faith in you.”

Milo gave him his racquet, using it to pull Jeremy to his feet. “You were expecting Jean-Yvves Moreau, 2009. But I like surprises.”

Jean frowned from his place by the Foxes. “That move is long dead. You can hurt someone with it.”

Milo held up Jeremy’s arm by the elbow, waving it at Jean. “He’s all in one piece. Now I’ve got something special for you all. Get on the court, Miss Renee, Drew, you may wait for my last demonstration off to the side.

As they all took their marks, not for a scrimmage but for shooting on the goal, Milo sauntered onto Renee’s place, tossing his racquet for hers. He spun it around and moved his hands before crouching and staring them down the court. Even with the helmet over his eyes, there was an intensity that boiled the cool air into something claustrophobic to the group. No one had to guess who Milo was mimicking now, but he still called out to them.

“Andrew Minyard, 2016.”

Neil got first dibs as he was the first to line up. He moved past Nicky and shot at the goal with a ferocity he saved for real matches. The deafening crack that boomed through the space as Milo’s racquet connected with the ball made everyone flinch in their spots. The ball sailed through the air like a jet before smacking into the other goal.

“There’s no way you did that!” Nicky screamed.

“That’s Andrew’s move. Do you know how many goalies have attempted to replicate that and succeeded?” Kevin shouted. “Eight! Only six have accomplished it in all exy history!”

“Seven, counting me.” Milo said, tossing the racquet over his shoulder. “But if I’m truly honest, I wouldn’t be able to do it again as accurately. Especially during an intense game. I’ve practiced your moves since I could hold a racquet and I've mastered your techniques in less years than you’ve all been playing. But Drew’s moves are special.”

Kevin was still staring at the ball across the court. “We need that tape. Get us that tape. You’ll need to show it to recruiters—”

“Slow down, Kevin.” Jeremy said.

“You’re turning red.” Jean said.

Kevin seemed close to fainting. When he’d had some water and Wymack promised to send him the security tape, they all got their chance to shoot on Milo who didn’t allow a single one through. After the showboating, they played a real scrimmage. Whoever won got to play with Milo next and even as Kevin lost thrice in a row, he never stopped his giddy chatter about the places Milo would go and the changes he’d bring to the sport.

[alittlegiraffe]

"Never That"

You’d always assumed Marshall had cheated on you back then.

There was never any proof—just whispers in your head, suspicions that festered in the spaces between his lies, his disappearances, the way he had slipped further and further away when the drugs took hold. You weren’t in a great place either, barely keeping yourself together while raising your daughters and praying he’d come back to himself before he killed himself.

But you forgave him a long time ago. Because you knew addiction. You knew what it did. What it stole.

Still, when you saw the model’s post, it hurt.

She’d been in one of his old videos, back when he was at his worst, and now she was on some podcast talking about how she’d been "one of his girls." How he’d “always made time” for her, how they had a “thing” between them, how they’d sneak off together during shoots. She made it sound nostalgic, like some wild love affair. Like something real.

It stung, even though you’d already made peace with the idea long ago.

Marshall came storming through the door not long after you saw it.

“She’s fuckin’ lying,” he bit out before you could even say anything. His face was tight, jaw clenched so hard you swore his teeth would crack. “I never touched her, never even thought about it. I was fucked up, but not like that. Never that.”

“Marshall—”

“No.” He shook his head violently, pacing, hands raking through his hair. “I get why you’d think it, okay? I know I wasn’t—I wasn’t me. I wasn’t a husband, not really, but I never cheated on you. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. And now she’s—” He cut himself off, breathing heavy, like the anger was pushing up his throat.

You exhaled softly, watching him. “Baby, I already assumed it happened.”

That stopped him in his tracks. He turned to you, eyes flashing. “What?”

“I assumed, yeah. But I forgave you.” You shrugged, trying to reach for him, but he was rigid, stiff with something that wasn’t just anger—it was hurt. “I knew you weren’t yourself. I didn’t need proof, I just… figured.”

Marshall let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “You figured? You thought I did that shit and just—what, kept it to yourself?”

You looked at him sadly. “What was I gonna do? Leave? I loved you. I still love you.”

His face twisted, like the words made him ache in a place too deep to reach. “I didn’t do it,” he said, softer this time. “I was gone, I was fucked up, but I never fucked around on you. I did a lot of shit to hurt you, but not that. I wouldn’t.”

You studied him, the rawness in his voice, the almost desperate way he needed you to believe him. Maybe, back then, you wouldn’t have. But now?

You reached for him again, and this time he let you pull him close, his arms coming around you tight, like he needed to hold you together to keep himself from coming apart.

“I believe you,” you murmured into his chest, feeling the tension in his body, the way his breathing was still unsteady. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah,” he muttered into your hair, shaking his head. “I’m the sorry one.”

You held each other like that, wrapped up in a truth neither of you had spoken before. The past had already hurt you both enough. It wasn’t going to win now.

Marshall held you so tight it almost hurt, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. You felt the tension in his arms, the way his fingers dug into your back. He was still shaking.

You leaned back just enough to look up at him. His jaw was clenched, eyes stormy and distant. This wasn’t just anger at some model running her mouth. It was deeper than that.

“Talk to me,” you murmured.

His throat worked like he was swallowing something heavy. “I just—I can’t stand that you thought that about me. That you lived with it. All this time.”

You sighed, running your hands up his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your palms. “Marshall, I wasn’t in a good place either. I was hurt, I was scared… I was just trying to keep our family together. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t half the time.”

He let out a rough breath, his hands coming up to cradle your face. “But this—us—was always real. Even when I was too fucked up to show it. I swear to God, baby, I never touched her. I never touched anyone.”

And you believed him. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you, eyes burning with so much raw honesty it made your chest ache. Or maybe it was because deep down, even back then, you’d known he still belonged to you.

“I believe you,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

He exhaled shakily, his grip on you loosening just enough to let his hands slide down to your waist.

“I’m sorry I made you think I could do that to you,” he said. “Sorry I made you live with that.”

You shook your head. “We survived it. That’s what matters.”

Marshall’s lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t the type to just let things go, especially not when it came to you. His hands tightened at your waist, like he was grounding himself in the feel of you.

“I should’ve been better,” he muttered.

“You are better,” you countered. “You came back to me. You came back to us.”

Something flickered in his eyes—something soft, something grateful. He tilted his head down, brushing his lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

When he pulled back, his hands slid up to cradle your face again. “I don’t care what the fuck she says. She can run her mouth all she wants, but she doesn’t get to rewrite my past.” His voice dropped lower, more serious. “And she sure as hell doesn’t get to rewrite ours.”

You nodded, tracing your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw. “No, she doesn’t.”

He studied you for a long moment before finally sighing, like he was letting the weight of it all roll off his shoulders. “Come to bed with me?”

You smiled softly, lacing your fingers with his. “Always.”

And when he pulled you into him, wrapping himself around you like he could shield you from the past, from the lies, from all the pain that came before—he knew this was what mattered. This was real. You were real.

And he was never letting go.

---

You woke up to the sound of heavy bass thudding through the house.

Blinking against the early morning light, you reached across the bed, your hand meeting empty sheets. Still warm.

You sighed, pushing yourself up, already knowing where he was.

Slipping out of bed, you grabbed one of his hoodies off the floor and tugged it on before heading downstairs. The music grew louder as you walked down the hall, the unmistakable sound of Marshall’s voice spitting venom over a beat.

You stopped at the door to the studio, leaning against the frame. He was at the mic, headphones on, eyes dark with focus. He didn’t see you yet.

You folded your arms, listening.

"Talkin’ like you knew me, like I gave a fuck about you

I was out my mind, not out my body—what you tryna prove?

You was just a face in the crowd, now you run your mouth,

Tryna make a name, bitch, keep my wife out your clout—"

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

He was pissed.

He hadn’t just woken up angry—he’d woken up ready. And in true Marshall fashion, that meant doing what he did best: putting it in a verse and making sure the whole world heard it.

"Sayin’ we had a ‘thing’—yeah, a fuckin’ joke,

Only thing we had was a video and some dope,

Never touched you, never wanted to,

Don’t rewrite my story just ‘cause nobody wants you—"

His voice was razor-sharp, every word slicing through the beat like a blade. He was ruthless when he needed to be, and right now? He needed to be.

You let him go for another few bars before finally stepping inside.

He caught the movement and turned, eyes locking onto yours. His chest was heaving, sweat dampening his hairline.

You raised an eyebrow. “Feel better?”

He yanked the headphones off, running a hand through his hair. “Not yet.”

You bit back a laugh. “You gonna drop that?”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ dropping it,” he muttered, walking over to you. “She wanted attention? Cool. Now she’s got mine.”

You sighed, reaching up to smooth a hand over his chest. His heart was still racing. “You know she’s just doing this for clicks, right? The more you respond, the more she wins.”

He let out a sharp breath. “I know, but I can’t let that shit slide. Not when it’s about us.” His voice softened, fingers brushing against your jaw. “Not when it hurts you.”

You looked up at him, your chest aching in that way it always did when he let down the walls no one else got to see past.

“I’m not hurt,” you told him honestly. “Not anymore.”

He studied you for a moment, then exhaled, nodding. “Good.” His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you against him. “Still gotta make an example outta her, though.”

You laughed. “Of course you do.”

He smirked, pressing his lips to yours. “Gotta remind ‘em—if I got something to say, I’ll say it in a verse. And if I didn’t say it? It never fuckin’ happened.”

And with that, he turned back to the mic.

Because Marshall Mathers never let a lie go unanswered.

---

You were in the kitchen making coffee when you heard it.

The notification chime on your phone was relentless—one after another, messages, mentions, group chats blowing up. You hadn’t even unlocked the screen before you heard Hailie’s voice from the living room.

“Holy shit.”

You walked in, coffee forgotten, as she sat on the couch, staring at her phone with wide eyes. She looked up at you, then tilted the screen your way.

Marshall had dropped the song.

It wasn’t just a leak. It wasn’t a snippet. It was a full-blown release. On all platforms.

And the Internet had lost its mind.

Trending Topics:

— “Eminem ends model’s career”

— “DID Y’ALL HEAR THIS??”

— “He’s still got it”

— “Why would she lie like that??��

— “Eminem responds and it’s brutal”

You grabbed your own phone and tapped the first link you saw.

The beat was hard-hitting, classic Marshall—dark, menacing, the kind of track that made your stomach drop before the words even hit.

Then his voice cut through.

"Sayin’ we had a ‘thing’—yeah, a fuckin’ joke,

Only thing we had was a video and some dope,

Never touched you, never wanted to,

Don’t rewrite my story just ‘cause nobody wants you—"

The Internet was eating it up.

@HipHopDaily: Eminem just dropped a diss track out of nowhere and it might be the hardest thing he’s done in years.

@StanForLife: Bro said “never touched you, never wanted to” and that was the softest part of the track.

@MusicInsider: We reached out to the model for comment. She declined.

You scrolled, barely keeping up with the reactions flooding in. People were breaking down the bars, arguing, making memes, picking apart every line. Some defended the model, but most? Most knew exactly what this was.

A warning.

A reminder.

Marshall didn’t just respond. He ended things.

And you?

You just sighed, shaking your head as you looked over at Hailie. She was trying not to laugh. “He really couldn’t help himself, huh?”

“Of course not,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “Now it’s a whole thing.”

You heard the front door open, and a second later, Marshall strolled into the house like he hadn’t just blown up the Internet. He had that smug little smirk on his face, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

He saw your expression and shrugged. “What?”

You waved at your phone. “You dropped it.”

He dropped onto the couch next to Hailie, stretching his legs out. “Damn right, I did.”

She snorted. “Dad, you broke Twitter.”

He just grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You sighed, flopping down beside him. “And you’re happy with this?”

Marshall turned his head to look at you, and something in his expression softened. He reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

“She tried to rewrite my past,” he murmured. “She tried to rewrite ours.” His grip tightened just a little. “I wasn’t gonna let that slide.”

You searched his face, feeling that familiar warmth settle in your chest. He wasn’t just protecting his name. He was protecting you.

You squeezed his hand back. “Guess it’s a good thing I like your music, huh?”

His lips twitched. “Guess so.”

And as the notifications kept rolling in, as the world kept talking, you leaned against him, letting him pull you close.

Because at the end of the day, the only thing that mattered was this—you and him, untouchable.

---

That night, Marshall proved himself the only way he knew how.

With his hands, his mouth, his body pressed so close to yours it was like he was trying to fuse you together. Every touch, every breath, every whispered “only you” was a vow, a promise, an unshakable truth.

He wasn’t just making love to you—he was showing you. Proving to you that no one else had ever mattered. No one else had ever been here, in this place where only you belonged.

And when it was over, when you were tangled in the sheets, breathless and boneless against his chest, he pressed a slow, lazy kiss to your forehead. “Still think I gotta prove it?”

You hummed, tracing idle patterns on his bare skin. “I think you did a decent job.”

He chuckled, deep and satisfied, fingers grazing down your spine. “Just decent?”

“I mean…” You smirked, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Maybe you should go another round. Y’know, just to be sure.”

His eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your waist. “Woman, don’t test me.”

You giggled, but before you could push him further, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You sighed, reaching over and squinting at the screen.

A text from Hailie.

Hailie: Lmao she’s on IG Live tryna clean up the mess.

You arched an eyebrow, clicking the link she’d sent. Sure enough, there she was—looking a little less confident than she had in that podcast, rambling about how it was all “misunderstood” and how people were taking her words “out of context.”

Marshall huffed beside you. “Predictable.”

You pursed your lips, watching the comment section drag her. You weren’t even mad anymore. At this point, it was pathetic.

And then, because you were feeling a little petty, a little smug, and maybe just a little high off the way your husband had just spent the last hour worshiping you, you flipped your front camera on.

Marshall barely had time to react before you snapped the photo—his arm still draped possessively around your waist, his bare chest peeking from the sheets, his face tucked against your neck. Your fingers were still tangled in his hair, and the glow on your skin was undeniable.

You didn’t add a caption. You didn’t need to.

You just posted it.

Marshall peered over your shoulder, then let out a low, wicked chuckle. “Damn, baby. You’re ruthless.”

You smirked, tossing your phone onto the bed. “Let ‘em talk.”

And as the notifications started rolling in, as the world once again lost its mind, Marshall flipped you onto your back, a smug grin on his lips.

“I definitely gotta go another round now.”

---

The next morning, you sat at the kitchen island, sipping your coffee and scrolling through the chaos you’d caused.

Your notifications were insane.

The photo had gone viral overnight. Every blog, every gossip page, everyone was talking about it. And the comments? They were exactly what you expected.

@stanforlife: SHE REALLY SAID “HE ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS” WITHOUT SAYING A WORD LMFAO

@hiphoptea: Not her posting the most loved-up, post-sex selfie while that girl was BEGGING for people to believe her on IG Live

@queenbehavior: Idc what y’all say, this is WIFE ENERGY

@messyblog: If petty was a person, it would be Mrs. Mathers.

You smirked into your coffee, scrolling further.

@randomfan: Y’all ever notice Em never posts stuff like this, but she can? Like, she really got that man whipped.

That one made you laugh, because it was true. Marshall wasn’t the type to blast his private life, but you? You had the keys to the kingdom.

“Somethin’ funny?”

You looked up to see Marshall strolling into the kitchen, still shirtless, still looking too good for this early in the morning. His voice was rough with sleep, hair sticking up in every direction.

You turned your phone toward him. “They think I got you whipped.”

He snorted, grabbing a mug and pouring himself coffee. “You do.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You admit it?”

He leaned down, one hand braced on the counter beside you, the other tilting your chin up so he could kiss you—slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world. When he pulled back, he smirked.

“Like that was ever a fuckin’ secret.”

You hummed, sipping your coffee again. “Good to know.”

Marshall sat across from you, pulling out his phone. You watched as he scrolled for a minute, eyes narrowing slightly before he huffed out a laugh.

“What?” you asked.

He turned the screen toward you.

He’d pulled up the model’s page.

Her comments were brutal.

@user4829: Girl just take the L and log off.

@hatethegame: Imagine lying on Eminem for clout just to have his wife end you with a selfie.

@notafan: You literally said ‘we had a thing’ and he said ‘WHO???’

Marshall shook his head, setting his phone down. “She did all that just to get dragged.”

You smirked. “Maybe next time she’ll think twice before rewriting history.”

He exhaled, reaching over to squeeze your thigh. “Let ‘em say whatever. We know what’s real.”

You nodded, placing your hand over his. “Yeah. We do.”

And as Marshall leaned in to kiss you again, the Internet kept talking.

But none of it mattered.

Because this—you and him—was untouchable.

[criswritessometimes]

messy!

contents - SMUT, fluff, reader is afab, reader and schlatt are exs, having sex with an ex, penis in vagina sex, a lot of emotions that are unsaid, reader is on top

authors note // omg thanks yall for 100 followers!! i just enjoy writing (sometimes bady) little stories about men i can't get out of my head :3. also I'm glad ya'll didn't pick the angst ending for this fic, i still wrote it and man it's upsetting. enjoy!

you and schlatt dated for a few months a few years ago. unfortunately, schlatt broke up with you as his youtube career was growing, and he wanted to focus on it. you thought that was a bullshit excuse but tried to keep your head up and move away from him physically and emotionally. the next time you hear from him is about a year later. you’re up late on a tuesday working on a paper for your english class when your phone buzzes. a photo of schlatt when you two dated was the photo that popped up; you never cared to change it. your stomach drops, and your hand shakes as you answer the call and bring the phone up to your ear, “hello?? (y/n)??” he’s slurring his speech as it comes from your phone. fuck, you should’ve blocked him. your head is in your hand, “hey man, what’s up.” “shit, am i interrupting something?” he asks. “i mean kinda, i’m working on my final paper for class but it’s whatever, what’s up man?” you still had a soft spot for him; you couldn’t help it. “oh ok, i um i just wanted to apologize for breaking up with you.” schlatt admits. your eyes widen from shock, “oh, um, th-thank you.” you haven’t spoken to him for a year and a half, and now he’s apologizing? there’s a beat before anything else is said, “if you mean it, give me a shout tomorrow and apologize when you’re sober. drink some water big guy. have a good night.” you hang up, sitting there for a moment as your heart rate settles back to resting before continuing with your paper for the night. the following day, you see a text,

from: schlatt

i meant it last night. i’m sorry for how the breakup affected you, and i would take it back if i could. i’m sorry (y/n)

sent: 10:19 am

both of you start to communicate more low contact in the coming months. you would comment on his videos, and he would send you dumb posts on instagram. even though you couldn’t see yourself getting back with him, you missed him so fucking much. every time you would see a notification from him, especially after long periods of not hearing from him because he was caught up with streaming or his move to austin, you would always have a smile on your face.

as you’re ending college, your job hunt begins, and one company you apply for only has in-person interviews; you roll your eyes as you scroll through the description, and you fit it, actually. you huff since you knew you needed to apply for this job. scrolling down, you see the interviews for the position are taking place in austin, texas. schlatt is living in austin currently. you sit at your desk, eyeing your phone, and you know you shouldn’t. it always gets messy when people stay in contact with their ex. before you know it, your phone is opened on your favorite contacts, schlatt being recently added back, and you’re pressing his contact. it rings a few times. “ what’s up, make it fast, i’m streaming.” he answers. “sooo what if i said i need a place to crash in austin next weekend?” you ask. “you need a ride from the airport?” he spoke so domestically like this was already planned out, he truly would do anything for you. his tone and willingness to help you caught you by surprise, “um yeah, that would be great. but if you’re bu-” you say before he cuts you off, “never too busy for you, doll. send me your flight info.” then hangs up. the beeps of the end call echo through your head as this will happen. you finally get to see schlatt again after all these years.

you stand outside the austin airport with your small carry-on, waiting for schlatt to pull up. a porsche parks a few feet away from you, and schlatt gets out of the driver's seat. you’ve seen him in videos as he grew out the mutton chops, but seeing him in person was different. it’s him. you freeze as you see him approach you with that excited smile. not many saw it, but you got to. he’s in front of you, gesturing to take your bag from you, but you can’t hear anything. all you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. he hugs you back, with your backpack in the way. you break the hug and take it off, grumbling about it being in the way. he hugs you again, and you miss how he hugged you. it was with his entire body as one hand held your lower back and his other held your shoulder blades with his fingers apart so you could feel every part of him. he held you like this for a few minutes, the both of you taking everything in. he starts to rub your back to signal to wrap it up soon. you pull away first, “sorry hi, god it’s been forever.” you tell him, trying to hide the obvious blush but failing. “no, no, it’s ok. i can trust you, i feel the same.” schlatt also admits. there’s that beat again. “oh, let me help you with your bag.” he reaches for the bag, but before you can stop him, he’s rolling it over to the car and loading it. he swings around and opens the passenger door for you to get in. you set your backpack on the floorboard, then pull your door closed as he circles around to get back into the driver's seat. 

the drive to schlatt's place is good, with a lot of catching up, giggles, and a smile that won’t leave your face. “so what job are you applying too? you kinda just called me out of the blue and told me you were gonna be here for the weekend.” he asks, eyes on the road. “right!” it was like he reminded you about it, which he smiled at. “it’s a landscape architecture job in downtown austin and the interviews are in the firm’s main office off of like 8th street and congress avenue.” you tell him. “do you need a ride over there? i know exactly where that is.” he offers. his offer could be crossing some boundaries, but what is it really? it’s just one friend driving another friend to a job interview, and you decided to not read into it too much. “yeah, that would be great, thank you.” you look over at him and smile; he sees it and smiles back at you, still facing forwards. during the ride, it’s weird that his hand isn’t resting on your knee or holding your hand; you try not to think about it too much and look out the window as schlatt turns into a neighborhood. he pulls up to the fourth house, pulls in the driveway, and announces, “we’re home.” he gets out and once again opens your door for you, then pops the trunk to get your carry on. you follow him up to the front as he gets the front door for you. walking in, you see a nicely furnished house with golden sunlight pouring through the windows in the living room. on the walls are art and a few achievements schlatt has received in his time online that he didn’t put in his office. you smile after seeing all the progress he’s made on his dream job, and there is a feeling of pride in your chest that someone you loved was able to accomplish all of this.

wait, was that the same feeling of love you had when you dated him? your face scrunchies, then you quickly shake your head to try and banish the thought. “ey, you ok?” schlatt caught you. “um yeah, sorry just nervous about the interview tomorrow.” you lie, turning back to him. “it’s ok, i know you’re gonna kill it with your garden landscapes, or whatever you do these days.” he reassures you then walks past you to show you the guest room. you laugh at his comment and follow him. the room he shows you is cute; there are extra blankets on the bed because you always complain about being cold in your sleep, and a towel on the end of the bed is folded for you to use when you shower. you walk into the room, put your backpack on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed, and lay your carry-on on the suitcase rack. Schlatt set out for you. you smile at the thought he put into the room on short notice, then turn to him, “um, thank you for all this.” your voice gentle. “don’t mention it, i like doing it for you,” he’s leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking bashful, “but come on, let's go out to dinner. i want you to see the austin night life.” your face falls in shock, “are you sure? please let me pay schlatt,” you ask, walking back up to him. he sighs when you say that, “doll you’re the one looking for a job, you shouldn't be spending shit, come on, my treat.” you finally give in and follow him to the car, hopping in, then driving downtown and to the cutest little restaurant you've ever seen. dinner was good, the food was excellent, and the company you had with schlatt was even better. it was like nothing had changed with either of you, but everything had. however, you were still just as connected. he pays the bill, and then the two of you walk around austin for a while. 

neither of you was drinking, so you knew it wasn't any alcohol that was talking, but schlatt looked beautiful, drenched in the colored lights as you walked past the bars back to his car. you continue to look at him, not looking where you’re going, you trip over a loose brick on the sidewalk. schlatt is somehow able to catch you as he swings you over his left side and holds all your body weight in his arms. his face is about 6 inches from yours, and you can finally see all the little freckles that littered his face, god you missed seeing them in the mornings when he would stay over at your dorm. “you ok toots? ya’ haven’t even had a drop of alcohol.” he jokes, helping you back to your feet. you settle yourself abc on your feet, “woo, thank you for catching me. sorry, i got distracted.” you say as you start to walk along with him again. “about me talkin’ about computer processors?” he asks, his voice unsure. you had no idea he was talking about that. “yep,” you keep your head down in shame but also see where you’re going. you make it back to the car in one piece, and as schlatt drives back to his house, you tell him about other projects in classes you've been working on, and he’s one of the few people you’ve talked to that interested in your field of study, most people just think you build houses.

you and schlatt walk back into a dark and quiet house, a physical sign that everything is still and peaceful. he turns the front light on to lead you back to your room. “hey,” you stop him before he starts saying his goodnights to you, “thank you again for hosting me, and for dinner. i’m really glad you’re in my life again.” you confess. he nods, “i feel the same way.” there’s that beat again, “can i kiss you?” he asks. your breathing stops for a moment to see if this is real. “yeah, please.” you mumble as he walks up to you. he cradles your cheek in his hand as his other hand rests on your hip. your hands wrap around his neck to hold him close as he kisses you. he’s so gentle with you as if you’re made of glass and will shatter at any sudden movement. it feels so natural to be back with him. your head moves to the side to deepen the kiss, and he appreciates it. his hand squeezes tighter, and his other hand moves to your shoulder. you slowly move your position while you’re still kissing him to knock him onto the edge of the bed. he chuckles, knowing what you’re doing as he sits on the bed. you two break apart with schlatt looking up at you, holding onto your hips like you hung the stars and the moon. your hands are on his shoulders as one moves to the back of his neck and into his hair. you give him a knowing smile as you start to play with the hair on his nape and sit on his lap. his grip moves to your ass to get a better hold as he starts to gently kiss your neck. you let out a hum from the missed feeling of his lips on your neck and move your neck so he has more room. just him kissing your neck and holding onto your ass makes you feel incredible, and your hips start moving and grinding into his lap. you feel movement from him directly on your core, and you gasp. he pulls away, “too much? because we can keep going, but if we take our clothes off we’re probably going to have sex, and are you ok with that? because we can just keep doing th-” he was rambling at this point, you cut him off kissing him aggressively. your hands are squeezing down his arms and chest as he finally gets the message, and one of his hands comes up to massage your breast. you moan into his mouth at the action, then pull away, feeling even more turned on then you were. “i really want this schlatt, please i need you.” you confess. his hands focus on the hem of your shirt, and you put your arms off to help him take it off. it’s thrown somewhere on the floor to be forgotten along with your bra. schlatt is only looking at your chest like a man starved, dazed at the sight of your tits. he looks up at you a few moments later, “did they get bigger?” you giggle at his question as your hands move to his shirt and take it off. you kiss him again before hopping off his lap to rummage through your bag. you return to him with a condom and place it on the bed next to schlatt. both of your pants come off as you start to tell schlatt the reason you have condoms in your bag. as he starts to put the condom on, “i was seeing this guy for a minute,” you pause, “nevermind, it doesn't matter i wanna fuck you and only you.” you wrap your body around him again, sitting on his lap as you start to kiss him again.

 he starts to get up to switch positions, your hand rests on his chest and gently push him down. “i wanna be on top jay.” you whisper in his ear as your pussy lips start to grind on his cock. you hadn’t called him jay since he broke up with you. it felt right when you did it, though. you sit up, then sink down onto his cock. schlatt’s hands move to your hips to help you, and your hands rest on top of his as your thighs are holding all your weight. you sit there for a moment to adjust to him again. was he always this big? you swear you never felt him in your lower stomach before. “you ok? we can switch.” schlatt breaks your inner thoughts as he watches your face for any signs of pain or discomfort. you shake your head as a no. “you’re just…bigger then i remember.” you tell him, raising up slowly and then pushing yourself down again. as you start to find a pleasant pattern of you sinking down on him and his hips meeting you, you feel that feeling of pride and love you felt when you first walked into his house bubble up in your chest again. you lean down to kiss it out of you. schlatt kisses you back with the passion that you couldn’t feel radiating off you as he holds your ass and grinds his cock deeper and deeper into you. “fuck fuck fuck, i’m gonna cum jay.” you can feel your core tighten as he continues to drill into you, “hmm me too toots,” he struggles to get out at his hips become more erratic thrusting into you. “schlatt, oh my god baby, baby, fuck!” you feel a snap in your stomach as he thrusts into you chasing his release at the time time. he slows down and holds onto your shoulders, praying you don’t leave now. and you don’t. all your energy is used to look up at him. “i still really really love you.” you gently kiss his jaw. schlatt moves you off of him so you’re laying next to him, still looking at each other; he pulls you in impossibly closer. “i was a fool for breaking up with you, i’ve loved you all this time.”

[thedeskofaltoclef]

How I became The Desk of Alto Clef.

My response to a SCP Group designed around Hate and Bigotry who have targeted me and others in this community.

Nah, man, my daughter is dead.

It has been brought to my attention that there is a group of people on the internet who are fascinated with my fascination of Alto Clef and Meri. Hurtful and yet cute in a way so I think now I'll choose this time and these screen grabs from their discord to explain how I came to be 'The Desk of Alto Clef'.

My Daughter died six years ago and it sent me spiraling deep into the bottom of whatever bottle I could find.

I was completely prepared to take my own life and even had the things to 'finish the job' because my life had no meaning at that point. What was another statistic going to matter anyways, right?

It was in one of these dark, drunk moments with a gun when I fell across the Volgun's video on 'reality benders and you' and fell into a rabbit hole.

Drunkenly I fumbled around the wiki and learned more about this broken man known as Alto Clef.

A man whom I could relate to in my own way. A man who, no matter what he did, could never see his daughter as I will never be able to see mine. So thus, I became a very, very shitty cosplayer.

I like to believe that over the past four years my acting ability has increased to a sustainable level and as much as I joke about things I do try to stay humble about it. Though I like to think I've become better but I digress.

I love the lore of Clef and Meri, on or offsite, to the point that I am weird about it I know, but that's how I stay connected to my daughter. Writing the Deskverse is how I stay connected to my daughter.

I am also autistic which causes me to hyper fixate on Clef as a coping mechanism.

Because of this group of people I have greatly considered leaving the community and going back to my own personal solitude. Acting, Voice Acting, Cosplaying as Clef gave and still gives me something to live for again. I may not be this group's cup of tea but I do like to believe that I have helped others. My main goal has always been to uplift those who need uplifting. I do not want anyone to ever feel how I felt in my lowest and darkest moments.

The main story in the deskverse is about a father and a daughter torn apart by the actions of an abusive mother. My real life story.

I also have ZERO clue as to why I am being involved with misogyny or yuri things. If I have offended you in any way I do apologize.

I do not plan on posting the more 'suggestive' or 'lewd' responses they have made. Overly sexualized content does make me extremely uncomfortable.

This group of people have broken my heart into pieces. Seeing this list of images and names dragging me through the mud has already smashed my unstable self-esteem as it is.

At this time I do not plan on releasing any names associated with all of this because I am honestly tired of reliving the most horrid event of my life over and over because I, for whatever reason, do not fit what this group feels is acceptable of an actor/writer/fan.

I cannot say the same for the others in which they were assaulting.

In summary Alto Clef is an outlet for the pain I live with every day. I can never see, hold, hear, smell, or speak to my daughter. I have scars on my body from her mother that will never allow me to forget that life I had. I will always remember the taste of gunpowder but thankfully my drunk ass was too weak. If your going to be bad at something, be bad at that I suppose.

I will leave all of this with a final image from the copious list and the one that honestly hurts me the most. I am honestly a shy and reserved person and frankly it takes a lot for me to get out of my comfort zone. Not long ago I went to another SCP discord server because I wanted to meet new people and someone in there was awesome. I truly enjoyed my time with this person and just found them amazing. They were kind, open, willing to listen to my ideas, and gushed over Numberonedoggo. I thought I had finally made a new friend on my own. I was apparently wrong.

Art, from some of my favorite artists, was made for the sole reason of mocking me specifically. To laugh at me for finding joy in something that gives me purpose. Something I use to drive away the darkness.

No age, disorder, illness, or reason at all can be acceptable for anyone to act in this way. You are all a mockery of everything the SCP community should stand for.

-TheDesk

[kaile-hultner]

Help me dig upward: the Tumblr post

In which I talk a little bit about the hole I’ve been in for a hot minute—and what I want to do to dig out of it.

Hey y’all,

For the second time in a few years I’m starting a GoFundMe. This time, though, it’s not for the site, at least not explicitly. It is to help me get out from under the weight of debt that I’ve been carrying for more than a decade at this point, but which has finally gotten so bad that it’s affecting everything from my sleep patterns to my overall mental health and ability to do the thing that you likely already support me for: this website. 

If you’ve been wondering why the posting has decreased here, or reduced in quality, or why we started 2024 off publishing other writers and then just as suddenly stopped doing that again, this is why: I am out of money, I am in debt, and it feels like I’m living every day in pure, basic survival mode. 

This GFM, in which I’m asking for $10,000, is a moonshot, a Hail Mary. I don’t expect it to raise anything; it will be the last time I ask the Internet for money, whether it works or it doesn’t. If it works, obviously it’ll mean I’ll be able to post more and maybe my mental health will improve and I won’t feel like every moment is a countdown to a terrible ending, and I’ll be able to think of compelling angles to talk about video games again. If it doesn’t work, maybe I’ll figure something else out. Bankruptcy, probably. I don’t know. 

I hate doing this. I hate being in this position. I hate that I’ve already asked for money this year and people have been extremely generous and it just feels like all that generosity just went into a hole. I wish I had something to show for that generosity, or proactively for anything I gain from this campaign. So, if there is something you want me to cover or talk about or look at in exchange for your support on this campaign, just shoot me an email with proof of your donation, no matter how small. It’s kaile@noescapevg.com. I can’t promise I’ll write a bunch of magnum opuses at your request but I will do what I can just simply to show appreciation for your support. 

Anyway, this feels bad to me and I’m already starting to regret it, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying thank you in advance and I owe you my life. I wish that was figurative.

Edit: here is the text of the GFM I posted. 

Hi y’all,

My name is Kaile Hultner. I am an online cultural critic who has been running the video game criticism website No Escape since 2019. My work has been featured in other places like PC Gamer, Polygon and Bullet Points Monthly. And like a lot of people, I have been deeply in debt for years. 

Debt is a very strange phenomenon. As anthropologist David Graeber demonstrated in his book Debt: The First 5000 Years, it is a phenomenon that imparts a kind of moral valence on a person; whether or not that person can pay their debts is a sign of their trustworthiness or virtue as a member of polite society. Yet you can’t go without debt: at some point, at least in the United States, you have to pick up a form of debt – credit – to establish your credit score, without which you can’t rent an apartment, buy or lease a car, or, in some cases, even get a job. Being debt-free can harm this score, as can having a credit history that is “too young.” 

I’ve been in debt for a long time. I’ve been managing my debt for over a decade. Every year for the last six or seven years in particular it feels like I’m losing progressively more and more ground. Seven years ago I had a car; I could do things like deliver Uber Eats and DoorDash and make extra money whenever I ran out. It broke down in my driveway in 2022 and I couldn’t afford to take it to a mechanic to get it fixed. I sold it for $200. I haven’t been able to replace it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever need a car for anything. Luckily my day job is WFH. 

Recently, I’ve been fighting with my old bank over charges it erroneously applied to my account in excess of $1000, causing it to go deep into the negatives. I’ve been slowly, slowly digging myself out of that hole thanks to some close friends and some very kind folks who follow me on the Internet. But it’s caused other debts to exacerbate. And tonight I realized that I am at the end of my rope. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t sit here and say that I’ve done everything right; certainly, more than one bad decision made out of desperation has put me here. I won’t make excuses for that. But I’m tired of being here, in this position. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night with heart palpitations because I got an alert from my bank that I’m in the negatives. I’m tired of getting emails and phone calls from debt collectors. I’m tired of living in basic survival mode with no discernible path forward. I’m tired of being tired, of not having the energy to be creative and do the work I’ve built an online presence around for five years. And paradoxically, I’m tired of asking people on the internet for money. 

So I’m going to ask people on the internet for money, one final time. 

I’ve set the goal at $10,000. This is far more than I’m honestly expecting to get, but if I get even a fraction of that I could finally obliterate my debts in a meaningful way. I do have specific milestones that I basically need to meet, otherwise this GFM doesn’t hit its maximum effectiveness, but otherwise the sky is the limit. If I reach the whole amount… I don’t really know what I’ll do. Cry, maybe. 

Milestones – bolded are high-priority

Milestone reached! $750 – gets my old bank account out of the negatives. Eliminates one vector of harassment, allows me to close that account and move on. 

Milestone Reached! $1800 – does the above and allows me to fully pay any late or past-due loan payments missed as a result of the bank issue.

Milestone Reached! $6000 – does the above and allows me to fully pay off all installment loans 

$8000 – does the above and allows me to pay off any remaining debts. 

$10,000 – does the above and allows me to start saving. 

$10,000+ – basically a moonshot, I have no idea what I’ll do with extra. 

I fully do not expect you to donate to this. There are people trying to escape genocides, much more abject poverty, crushing medical debt, and so much more that feel – at least to me – so much more worthy of your attention and money. But just know that if you dodonate something, you have my undying appreciation. I will quite literally owe you my life. 

I’m going to post this now before I get too emotional or lose my nerve entirely, but again: thank you. Even if all you do is read this. 

—Kaile

[shatcey]

Victor theories (after the trailer)

I just scream a bit… bear with me. I'M SO HAPPY I don't have to buy a tamagotchi and kill it. Thank you, Cybird. Okay… This is my last last theory post. The second last post. I do not know how it happened.

@.kurishiri made a translation of the trailer in case you didn't see it yet. In this post, I will use screenshots from this translation.

The thoughts in my head are jumping from one to another. I tried to structure them, though it doesn't seemed to worked out properly. But… I wanted to write it as soon as possible, before something distracted me. Sorry about it.

His age

The first thing I noticed was that Vivi not only has shorter hair, but he looks younger!!!!!

He looks about 15-16 years old… maybe I'm wrong. But… it looks like that to me…

And the words that we see… repeat the words of our beloved Kate.

I'm going to scream! IT WAS HIM!!!! I KNEW IT!!!!

(clear throat)

I'm back to normal.

So, the younger version of Victor that we see in this video was with Kate. Kate is now 25-26, and it happened in her very young years (she barely remembers it)… for example, 20 years ago. This number was on Jude's route… WTF, why not? So…

So... 20 years ago, Vivi was 15-16 years old… So we're back to 35-36 years old. It fits perfectly.

His origin

Another thing that is very hard to miss is his clothes. Larger version from the announcement of episode 0.

At first I thought maybe it was a school uniform. Because of his age… it's possible. But at that time, boys wore the same clothes they do now. A fairly simple shirt, tie, and black suit. Even if we assume that he just took off his jacket, the shirt is too fancy. And a ribbon… not exactly fitting.

Next I thought about Elbie and Ally's shirts… they have a similar style, but not quite. But the ribbon he wears is too simple for nobility. But at the same time… the quality of the shirt says otherwise. Not to mention the stone brooch… So maybe… He comes from a rich family, that become poor. These clothes can be explained that way. But… church schools were only for orphans, no? Or for family members, as we learned.

But I have a feeling that he looks more like a scholar. It looks like he studied theology, maybe he was preparing to become a priest? Haven't I been thinking too much about Faust lately? Maybe.

Is this even a church?

The statue does not look like a modern God… Yes, we have large windows that let in a lot of light (which often symbolizes closeness to God), chandeliers and benches…. but… It feels a little different. Do you see? The statue is too big… and… architecture… is not quite right. It is somewhat reminiscent of Ancient Greece. What is this place?

Fatalism

I firmly believe in fate, so I am extremely happy to see this part. The fact that Kate was back in his life…

I agree that it's probably very strange to meet someone after so many years and in such strange circumstances. If situations continue to overlap one another, despite the fact that the probability that happen is very low… people usually call it fate.

But he's talking again (this time) about fate as a person. Maybe it's just a figure of speech…

That ribbon of his won't let me go… The simple ribbon was mentioned in the bitter ending of Ellis' story in event "Bound to You".

Kate was extremely fascinated by this ribbon. Considering that Kate met Victor with a simple ribbon a long time ago. Perhaps that's why this symbol seems so attractive to her… Forgotten memories, associations…

And the fact that Kate remembers him… there are already two facts about him… mean that he made a strong impression. What happened back then?

Actually in the Dark IF story (translated by @.reccyls)... she sort of remembered him because of his hair...

Yes, he is a magnificent man and makes a strong impression. Maybe it's just an impression. But I'd like to think it was more than that.

I talked about this in my "last post with the theories". Yeah, right… the last.

So… Maybe they were just meant to be together. And that's why (maybe) Vivi let her go many years ago… to keep her safe. And perhaps that's why he feels sad when he says that "fate is playing her cards".. He doesn't want to involve Kate in his life… but Fate has a different opinion.

On the other hand… all the guys "endings" (I'm not talking about… no, it's an untranslatable joke) usually called grim fate. In the sense of the inevitability of missing it, changing it. This is what will happen no matter what. (But we still won't give up!!!) Maybe that's what Victor was talking about. And, perhaps, this has something to do with his grim fate. His grim fate drew Kate into his life. His grim fate made it happen. His grim fate is... so persistent. Peculiar…

His loyalty

This was one of the versions of what his curse might be. I've talked about it… here. But it is very questionable. Victor constantly calls himself the Grim Reaper, the palace Reaper (which kind of resembles Sariel.. who calls himself the devil). So maybe it's just one of the nicknames and has nothing to do with his real curse.

And the last line… totally different from what we've heard before. On every route, they are told us that Crown "destroys evil with evil". So… they don't deny that they are evil, but they do it with a good purpose. But… here Victor said that he was devoted to evil… Maybe the guys don't know who they really work for? Maybe the Queen, as I assumed earlier, is not human at all? Interesting…

Or maybe… He's just being dramatic. He talked about himself as something dark and bad. Maybe it's the curse that makes him think of himself that way…

And a bit more...

It's just a guess. You can't look him in the eye when he gives an order to his victim, otherwise you'll die as well. It's almost the same as a William's curse. He also must look the victim in the eye. It looks a bit like a snake. Has the thought of Sari stuck in my head???? Maybe… no… he's not Hydra.

So… he sold his freedom to get his curse? This… impossible, the curse doesn't work that way. Maybe… he exchanged? What? And again… who is the Queen? Victor belongs to Victoria. Does he have sort of contract with her? Is she the Death itself??? It would be too good to be true...

The design of the spikelet on the dividers I took from Designed by Freepik

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[funpoire]

Adeuceyuu type of trio to :

This is mostly about my yuu but you can use it for your yuu too. Will you guys interested in some Q/A for my yuu ?

They shared so many clothes with yuu they ended up forgetting what they gave to yuu and what they didn’t

To sneak out to go in ramshackle and have a movie night. Yuu let a window or the door open for them.

Everyone is confused about their relationship. Are they friends? Are they more? Do they know what they are doing is not friendship?

If one person in the trio is missing everyone notices it and gets worried. Did they sacrifice them? Did something happen? No just one of them is sick.

If one person gets sick they will all finish getting sick too. They don’t know personal space.

Go out a lot. The island is big enough to do every type of activity: picnic at the beach, shopping, eating something, etc…

Although all of them care for each other, they will also be the first ones to tease and bully each other.

Even if they can talk about everything, vent, etc… one subject is banned: the “yuu coming home” conversation.

If they can’t see each other, they just video call. Yes, Deuce and Ace are in the same room, and yes, they are still calling on different phones. Save the other guy in their room.

Yuu always get invited to an unbirthday tea party. Till the trio starts to be too loud and annoying. Riddle ends up not letting them invite anyone anymore.

They can’t sit next to each other anymore because, again, they are too loud. I think they are the type to still find a way to communicate even across the room: sign language, reading lips, using their phones, throwing paper, etc…

Got a matching trinkets or something like that. Could be a phone charm, bracelet, t-shirt, etc…

The trio is loved by most of the students but hated by the majority of the teachers.

They send some random pic and say “It’s us” and then it’s just a pic of rocks.

The closet is made of glass for Ace and Deuce (Yuusei already figure out his sexuality long time ago)

During book 5 Deuce had weekly call from his mom were Ace and Yuu could participate and also talk about their week. Ace will snitch the little bad thing Deuce did when in the other hand Yuu will talk about how well behave Deuce is.

“they match each other's freak in a way that is uncomfortable for the other characters to watch” - some twitter user

the vibe:

my yuu wiki - more yuu content - aceyuu art - yuusei relationship

yeah more gay post please forgive me but i said i was going to be in every twst topic till the fandom want me. I don't know if this post is good i be honest i just put all the stuff i had in my head for the moment i would love to see more yuu with this ship so don't be shy to send it to me.

[hiddengiggles]

Let’s talk about consent and smart ways to play

Yes, consent can be revoked at any time. That’s normal and your boundaries should be reexamined regularly as part of your own check ins.

No, it doesn’t mean either party did anything wrong, it can just be a change of what either wants. Shaming either party for changing their mind serves no one. Don’t act like the person who was receiving the action is unfair or a “tease” for changing their mind. Don’t act like the person giving the action was bad or wrong for doing the thing for which they had consent at the time because you didn’t like it.

Yes, it’s awesome to be able to open yourself up and be vulnerable for different activities and kinks. When you don’t have a partner to engage with regularly, it can be thrilling to finally find a person to play with, I know.

No, blanket consent for EVERYTHING right from the jump is NOT a good idea. If you’re connecting with a play partner the first few times, start slow and expand. Feeling enough trust to give consent for some kinks can and probably should take time so uou can be really comfortably vulnerable

Yes, it is exciting to safely meet play partners from the online world when you are BOTH ready for it! When you’re safe about meeting (getting to know them slowly, setting a neutral meeting point, letting a few people know where you’re going and the name of your friend, etc) it can be a great way to get time with your kinks. When it isn’t forced, rushed, or for too long a time period, the organic connection can be magical!

No, you should not assume each party is on the same page unless you’ve communicated multiple times, especially in writing. If you had a phone call a month ago that talked about boundaries and assume all is well, you’re not actually playing safely. Some people write out rules, some BDSM players sometimes make it a “contract”, but a verbal conversation will not protect you or help you if worse comes to worst. This is especially important for partners still new to playing together. Record the hard conversations in some way.

Yes, you can start a conversation on boundaries and kinks with generalization. Example on my end, my husband and I both are okay with pictures and videos taken of us and posting them. In the early days of our relationship, we checked every time we played “Is it okay if I film this?” but after years together we’ve both agreed it’s okay to take them anytime, though we check with each other if we’re comfortable with what was captured regularly.

No, a general conversation is not enough. Continuing my example, we both have boundaries for ourselves and for each other to make sure we’re okay with it being posted (or sometimes sold). Earlier today, I put on a really pretty lingerie set for some birthday giggles. However, I stopped and asked “If you wanted to film this, would you be comfortable with me being seen in this publicly? Our usually boundaries call for a top and bottoms covering”. He paused, considered, and said no, so I put on a tank top and shorts too. Get specific with every aspect of your play, from your comfortable clothing levels, to where content can be posted, to areas you don’t want touched that day that you might normally be okay with otherwise. Assuming you already know the answer is not enough, say it again.

Consent is a lot bigger and more complicated than just this post, so talk about it A LOT with your partner(s). The biggest key to a good relationship in and out of kink (friendship, mentorship, romantic relationship) is to NEVER STOP TALKING. Communication is key, talk about your boundaries and consent over and over and over. They will change and grow, and so will you.

Mistakes and miscommunications will happen, but it’s important to talk about them like the grown people you are. A lot of consent issues with new partners aren’t malicious, they can easily stem from either party being unclear or simply not thinkinh to ask about something that could be a boundary issue. Unless it was a blatant “I KNEW the boundary and disregarded it purposely because I wanted to do it” situation, be an adult and talk about it. If you’re adult enough to be engaging in activities or kinks for adults, you need to follow through and talk about what went right and wrong. Learn and grow from the stuff you didn’t do as well before, accept responsibility for your part, and move on, with or without that partner.

[accio-victuuri]

THE MOON REPRESENTS MY HEART 🌙 + Friday Madness

i just think that me freaking about gg singing this song and leaving after that is not right. this song deserves it’s own post and the importance of the Moon’s symbolism between them should be repeated. personally, i was surprised cause i cpn’d about a possible interpretation of showing off moon photos when they do it, then i thought of this song. now you have gege performing it. the universe has clowned me once again. and you have him as performer #8. Bo. are you kidding me? yes, this is a CCP signed-off event. the song must have been an approved piece to perform live but that doesn’t mean GG did not have a say in picking this track. as for him being the 8th one, a coincidence. destiny can’t help but relate them to each other. lol.

you can say that it’s perfect for the theme of mid-autumn festival and it’s a well loved song — yes, that’s right. but we’re all cpfs here who have a long history with 🌖 and GG finally singing it now seems like a “sign”.

this song’s relevance started with a fake rumor:

I would like to add that the moon should be the one that Wang laoshi watched a video of. After watching it, he said, "Do you believe me, I can also dance this for you?" The background music was "The Moon Represents My Heart" I think it should be posted by Xiao laoshi, but this happened a long time ago on the stage, but it should be related. I don’t know about choreography. I was busy with other things at that time. This is what I know.

THIS HITS DIFFERENT NOW. imagine yibo dancing to this. i will lose it. 🤯🤯🤯

and it doesn’t help that xz had a teaser video released by BRTV today:

send the moon to you // "I want to take a picture of the moon for you but it never comes out”

this is why we love fake rumors, one way or another, the similarities come up or parts of it come true.

then the matching photoshoot prop. also their studios posting 5 minutes apart. yes it makes sense for them to post in the same time span cause the content released around the same time too. but xzs is 20:40. 8:40. 8= Bo and 40 on the clock points to 8.

Seriously, XZ. come here. i just wanna talk. you are being so loud today sir. 🤡🤡🤡🤡

AS FOR THE PERFORMANCE ITSELF.

Outstanding. As expected of GG. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

There is something so soft and shy in the way he performed it. As if he is confessing to the person he loves how much he feels. This person knows — but not this way. Not this deep. This is him finally saying what his love is like.

He is also happy. This love makes him whole. It’s so nice to see him this way!

@rainbowsky already mentioned the way we are excited and crying because of it’s connection to Leslie Cheung which is the main thing in conversations. is this xz’s way of dedicating the song to the love of his life in public?

and the lyrics need no further interpretation, it’s such a sweet and simple song about one’s devotion.

so it’s not just xz singing this love song and us clowning. it’s years of clues and references — which now feels like a lead up to this “confession”. 💕

P.S: my main boxiao and moon post is obviously not updated for some time. so just search for “moon” on this blog for other references but y’all know tumblr will still not show everything.

P.P.S: i wanna bring back the moon landing watch. one of the strongest moon cpn out there that honestly feels like an urban legend now the way we never saw it again. lol. it was too loud they probably decided that wyb shouldn’t wear it again in public 😅😅😅😅

END.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Cater Diamond - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Courtyard]

Cater: Whew～ Today's Alchemy class was a real brain wiggler. What class do I got next… Hm?

Cater: Hey… Is that you Leona-kun? Woah, that's a surprise, are you just getting out of class too?

Leona: Shut your trap already… It's got nothing to do with you, Cater.

Cater: No, no, I just wanted to give you the drop on a bit of info. Do you know what tomorrow is?

Cater: You see, it's YA BOI CAY-KUN'S BIRTHDAY ♪

Leona: Oh. Good for you.

Cater: NO REACTION!? I mean, I guess I knew that was coming～

Cater: Shoulda known it wouldn't be easy to get a warm birthday greeting from ol' Leona-kun.

Leona: What nonsense are you spouting? I just did.

Cater: What, you mean when you said "good for you"? C'mon, you just threw that out there 'cause you had to～

Cater: If you're gonna say something, you gotta put more heart into it, not just toss me a few words here and there ♪

Leona: Your birthday's tomorrow, ain't it? I couldn't possibly be rude and wish you a happy birthday the day before all your fellow housemates have a chance to…

Leona: So, bye.

[Leona leaves]

Cater: There he goes again, spouting off whatever… Well, guess I should just consider myself lucky that we got to hold a convo and he didn't just ignore me.

Cater: Alrighty, then. Looks like my next class is Animal Linguistics. I got a feeling I'm gonna get called on today, so I should prep for it.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Cater: Woah, it's that delicious!? I wanna go right away… Oh, but I don't think I'll be able to until after next month.

Cater: Yeaaah, I did terrible on the last Magical History exam～ …Saaame, I wish those tests weren't basically one bit puzzle.

Cater: And also… Oh, we're already back to our rooms. Okay, night～

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: …Whew, finally I'm back.

Cater: I wasn't able to check Magicam while I was in the shower, so I should do that now.

Cater: Oh, looks like some of my old posts are getting likes too. I'm glad people are still seeing what I posted ages ago.

Cater: There's a few comments, too… Ugh, this question is waaay too long.

Cater: Not to mention, half of what they're saying has nothing to do with their question, they're just gabbing on about themselves. Ugggh… It's gonna be a pain to respond…

Cater: But if I leave it for later, I'll want to reply even less～ Guess I should give 'em a response ASAP then.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: "Except, that eye mask was a limited-time item, so if it's already sold out, sorry." …And, send. Was that all of them?

Cater: Whew～ I finally finished responding to everything. Guess now I can go check out everyone else's posts.

[phone pings]

Cater: Huh, who's post is this on trending right… Hey, it's that one guy! I can't believe they got a cat.

Cater: "Your cat looks so soft and suuuuper cute～! Can't wait for more pictures!"

[phone pings]

Cater: Ooh, I like the picture of this guitar. I wanna try customizing like this, too.

Cater: "I can't believe you did all this yourself! I'd love to see the play-by-play of how you made it next time."

[phone pings]

Cater: What else is there…? Oh, hey, I've heard of this Magicammer before. Looks like their video giving a tour of their room is hot right now.

Cater: Woah, that's hella cute! Both the floor and wallpaper are done up so meticulously. The entire room's been designed to mesh well with everything～!

Cater: The little trinkets they have scattered around their room are also all the rage right now, so they might be a good reference to keep in mind. I'll give them a follow.

Cater: Maaan, I wish I had a cute, pastel room like this. I bet they get tons of likes.

Cater: Oh, yeah. I kinda left it 'cause I didn't really have anything to say, but… Guess I could write a suggestion here.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Cater: It's been more or less smooth-sailing ever since I got a single room, so I didn't think I'd really have any complaints…

Cater: But this place is a bit too chic for the kinds of photos I want to post on Magicam. Maybe it's more accurate to say it's cute in an old-fashioned way?

Cater: The colors in the room are more on the darker side, which makes the videos come out too dark…

Cater: And it's a pain always having to lug out my photography equipment each time. I'll just write "I want more attractive walls and floors."

Cater: Honestly, I'd love to be able to do a room tour or a day-in-the-life routine video...

Cater: But I bet there'd be a ton of trouble I could get into when it comes to everyone's privacy if I'm shooting in and around the dorm, so that'd probably be impossible while I'm still attending school.

Cater: Mmkay, then… I'm already ready for bed, so I guess I'll just go to sleep early, ready to tackle the day tomorrow.

[fwumps into bed]

Cater: What time should I set my alarm for…? Oh, there's already a reply on my comment from earlier.

Cater: I should probably respond right away since they were also quick with it, huh… Hmm…

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

[alarm rings]

Cater: Mmm… Mrrrnngh… Is it morning already…?

Cater: Yawn… What time did I even fall asleep last night?

Cater: I think I was replying to a comment I got wishing me a happy birthday right at midnight… Did I fall asleep in the middle of that?

Cater: Looks like a got a lot more comments after that, too. I need to respond… But before that, there's something else I need to do today.

Cater: Can't just laze about here! I need to go to the washroom and wash my face ASAP!

Cater: My face is washed, and I did my skin care routine… So, let's get started!

Cater: The photography lights are turned on, the reflector board is adjusted, and my phone is on the tripod…

Cater: The plushes in the background are… Good, they're settled nicely on the bed.

Cater: There's nothing in the shot that shouldn't be. Perf, time to start the video!

[phone pings]

Cater: Hey-o everyone, it's Cay-kun! Today, I'm going to show off some base makeup items that's been my go-to these days.

Cater: First up… Here's the UV primer that just came out on the first of this month! I know this has been all the rage lately.

Cater: I've been using this every day since I bought it the day it came out ♪

Cater: And you know what's the best thing about this primer…? It's got no reflective shine at all!

Cater: It's got a nice toning effect, and I think it works well with just a little bit of powder on days when you don't really need to spruce yourself up too much.

Cater: I've fallen in love with it, 'cause whenever I wanna take a pic on the fly, all I have to do is dab a little here and there with a tissue and it looks like I did myself up in proper makeup ♪

Cater: Aaand it rolls on so smoothly, too. I'll apply some now to show you what I mean, so keep your eyes on the screen!

[phone pings]

Cater: …Nice, video done.

Cater: I'll snap a few pictures in the afternoon during break and put together a comparison picture, then edit the video… I guess I'll be able to upload it the day after tomorrow.

Cater: I still have to think about some other stuff like the background music, but I should focus on finishing my makeup for now.

Cater: It's my birthday, so I think I'm leaning towards using some of my more cuter cosmetics… Oh, I know.

Cater: I found it! Here's the glitter eyeliner that I got as a part of that limited-edition holiday cosmetic set!

Cater: Both the package it came in and the glitter itself is waaaaay too cute. I'll draw the line with this, and snap a pic to see…

[snap!]

Cater: Nice, I can see the glitter glimmering around my eye. This'll give my birthday photos a little bit of a different feel from usual.

Cater: As for my hair… Eh, I guess it's going a little too far if I did something with that too. I'll just massage in a little bit of wax and just set it like usual…

Cater: Perf, looks good. Hmmm… I still have a bit of time, so I guess I'll reply to all the birthday comments I got earlier.

Cater: I still need to record a birthday video, and I bet there'll be a party, or at least a get-together with the Pop Music Club...

Cater: Eheheh, I can't wait. I think I'll have enough content to upload to Magicam for a while!

[Main Street]

[Cater chats with everyone]

Cater: Yaay, thanks everyone! …Hm?

Cater: Who's that I spy walking over there…? Oh, hey, it's Leona-kun!

Leona: Cater…! Tch, what'd I do to be this unlucky?

Cater: Ehhh, you really gonna act like that in front of the birthday boooy?

Cater: So, anywaaaay… Remember how you said yesterday that you couldn't possibly be rude and wish me well the day before my birthday?

Cater: Which meeeeeans… Since we've met the day oooooof…

Leona: Yeah, yeah, you don't gotta tell me twice. …......Happy birthday.

Cater: Ahahah, I really got you of all people to wish me a happy birthday! This is gonna be a great year!

Requested by @farfalla049.