#but it is seriously SUCH a small part of the game. it is Not the main point of the game. so like as far as platformers go

[andalon-historian]

This is because Commander is a bad format.

NOT because the stuff in the gymnastics image is bad. The stuff in the gymnastic image is all mitigating how much the format sucks on its own merits, it's necessary tbh.

In an actually good format, if you bring a little casual thing and get demolished by a competitive deck, you have wasted like 6 minutes. No time has been lost, and no time is required to shuffle back up and play again. Not so in Commander.

In an actually good format, if someone wins "too early," you shuffle up and play again. You're back to that same point in the game in seriously 2 minutes, and once again no time has been wasted ramping up to the good part. Not so in Commander.

In an actually good format, if you get staxxed out, you can both just choose to play faster (i.e. draw and pass), and you can *concede* and play again immediately. You're not forced to watch somebody else play instead of playing. Not so in Commander.

In an actually good format, if you get hit by an infinite combo, it's probably the one the deck is built around. You can shuffle up again to play immediately, and now you know what you're looking for. Plus, it takes a very small amount of time to not only shuffle back up, but get back to where you were in the last game. Not so in Commander, on multiple levels.

All the things in that image are necessary to make Commander playable and fun for normal people, and you SHOULD obey them. Otherwise the format completely sucks ass. Because Commander is not a good format.

too good to remain on Reddit

[hypnobeauty]

a chance encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 8)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. masterlist cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, pre-squid game, slice of life, domesticity, very wonky timeline. a/n: thanks for the answers to my questions last chapter! i have decided what to do, but i'll keep it a secret for now lol this chapter is just a bunch of snippets i've written and couldn't fit anywhere else in the story, so it became... this! in my head, you two first met in jan 22, and the games happened in oct/nov 24, so imagine these things happened during this time period. and again, thank you for all the positive response, it makes my heart warm to see you enjoy my silly story! as usual, enjoy xx comments are always welcome (i’ll definitely take longer to post now since my vacation is officially over, one minute of silence please) (song inspo: the land & the sea - hannah & maggie) taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia @antisocial-aina @googie-jeon @christinamadsen @deernat @vvlwvvy

part 8. love, unrushed and unfolding

there was no grand moment when you and hyun-ju officially became girlfriends. no nervous confession, no neatly rehearsed lines. it just happened, like slipping into warm water, natural and inevitable. one day, while running errands together, you were at the grocery store, arms full of snacks, when ha-neul called.

"hey, where are you?"

"mart," you said, wedging your phone between your ear and shoulder as you grabbed a bag of tangerines. "hyun-ju’s making dinner, and i got stuck with shopping duty."

you didn’t think anything of it at first, but ha-neul caught on immediately.

"hyun-ju’s making dinner? cute. look at my girl playing house with her girlfriend."

the word landed like a pebble in water—small, but rippling outward. you froze for half a second, then stole a glance at hyun-ju, who was a few feet away, inspecting a carton of eggs with a level of seriousness that made you fond.

"yeah, well," you said, voice casual. "she’s the better cook. i just follow orders."

"uh-huh," ha-neul drawled. "and does your girlfriend know you’re completely whipped?"

you rolled your eyes and hung up, but the word stayed lodged in your brain. that night, when hyun-ju was stirring a pot by the stove, you leaned against the counter and said it out loud.

"so, i called you my girlfriend today."

she didn’t stop stirring, didn’t react immediately. then, without looking at you, she said, "yeah?"

"yeah."

finally, she glanced up, lips twitching like she was holding back a smile. "and?"

"and… i think i like it."

she hummed, nodding as if considering it. then she set the spoon down, stepped closer, and hooked a finger into one of your belt loops, tugging you toward her.

"good," she murmured against your lips. "because i’ve been calling you mine in my head for a while now."

and just like that, it was settled. no ceremony, no discussion. just two people who had already chosen each other in every way that mattered.

it became clear that you were hers, and she was yours, in the little things. how she always reached for your hand in the car, even if it was just resting on the gear shift. how you always saved the last bite of your food for her, even when you didn’t want to. how she let you steal her hoodies, even the ones she pretended were off-limits. and then there were the moments that felt bigger, like the time she gave you the locket.

it was your birthday, and hyun-ju refused to let you lift a single finger the entire day. she cooked breakfast, surprised you with an impromptu and fast trip, and insisted on carrying everything—even the small coffee you got on the way to the beach.

"aein, give it," she said, holding out a hand as you walked down the shore.

"it’s a cup of coffee, hyun-ju, not a ten-kilo weight."

"doesn’t matter. birthday rule."

you rolled your eyes but handed it over because she looked so damn pleased with herself. the beach was quiet, waves rolling in and out in a lazy rhythm, the sky painted in hues of gold and soft lavender. hyun-ju shifted beside you, pulling something from the pocket of her windbreaker. she hesitated for a second—just a second—then turned to you and said, "here."

she pressed a small black box into your palm, fingers warm against yours. you blinked at it, surprised. "what’s this?"

"your present," she said simply, but her voice was softer than usual, careful in a way that made your chest tighten. you opened the box, and the moment you saw what was inside, the world tilted just slightly.

a gold heart-shaped locket rested against the dark velvet lining, gleaming under the fading sunlight. it was simple, delicate. you carefully pried it open, and there, tucked inside, were two tiny photos—one of hyun-ju, the other of you. your fingers tightened around the locket, a rush of warmth filling your chest. you swallowed, trying to steady yourself.

"you… put our pictures in here?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

hyun-ju exhaled a small, nervous laugh. "yeah."

"hyun-ju—"

"don’t make it a big deal," she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. "i just… i wanted you to have something of me. with you. always. "

“and i’d have mine too," she says, pulling out a matching locket from beneath her collar.

that’s when you notice she’s been wearing hers this whole time.

you stared at her, at the way her eyes stayed fixed on the locket in your hands, like she was afraid of what she’d see in your face. like she was already bracing for you to tease her about it. you didn’t. instead, you shifted closer, cupping her cheek and tilting her face toward you.

"it is a big deal," you said softly. "and i love it."

her eyes flickered, lips parting slightly. you pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, slow and lingering, like an unspoken thank you. when you pulled away, she exhaled, resting her forehead against yours for a moment before reaching out to take the locket from your hands.

"let me," she murmured. you turned around, sweeping your hair aside as she clasped it around your neck. the chain was cool against your skin, but the locket itself felt warm—like it belonged there. you touched it lightly, turning back to face her. she watched you, eyes steady, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"looks good on you," she said.

you grinned. "yeah?"

"yeah."

you leaned in, brushing your nose against hers. "i’ll keep it forever, you know."

hyun-ju’s fingers ghosted over your collarbone, resting just above the locket. "i know."

and in that moment, you knew—without question—that she meant it. the weight of it against your chest became a quiet, constant reminder, not just of her, but of everything you were building together. it was easy to get lost in the warmth of it, in the quiet security of knowing that, no matter what, you had each other. the city stretched beyond the shore, distant and unconcerned, but right here, with her, the world felt small, safe, and just enough.

you were staying in a hotel for the night, to rest before the drive back in the morning. the night was still, the kind of deep quiet that only comes when the world outside has long settled, leaving just the two of you in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. the soft hum of the ocean filtered through the window, distant enough to feel unreal. you were both tangled together, half-awake, neither of you willing to fully succumb to sleep yet.

hyun-ju’s fingers traced slow, absentminded circles on your back. you had your head on her chest, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear, grounding you in a way nothing else ever had. she smelled like warmth, like safety. like home.

your eyes fluttered closed as you exhaled, completely at ease. her other hand rested in your hair, playing with the strands, twirling them between her fingers. you could tell she was tired—her touches were lazy, unfocused, like she wasn’t thinking about it, just feeling you. you liked when she was like this, when she let herself be soft with you.

"you're quiet," she murmured, her voice low, a little hoarse from exhaustion.

you hummed in response, nuzzling closer. "just thinking."

"about what?"

you didn’t mean to say it. you didn’t plan for it. but it slipped out, as natural as breathing.

"i love you, hyun-ju."

her fingers froze in your hair. you felt the sharp inhale she took, the way her chest rose a little too quickly beneath you. her heartbeat had quickened.

your own breath hitched. maybe it was too soon. maybe you had ruined something—

but then her hands were on your face, tilting you up to look at her.

she looked stunned, lips slightly parted, brows lifted like she couldn’t quite believe what she just heard. and then, slowly, her expression softened. her eyes—deep brown and endless—searched yours like she was committing this moment to memory.

and then she smiled. that smile, the real one, the one that melted you every time.

"i love you too."

the words came out barely above a whisper, but you felt them everywhere. before you could respond, she was already pulling you in, arms locking around you, pressing her forehead to yours. her breath trembled as she exhaled, and you realized she’d been holding it in.

you smiled against her, cupped her jaw as you kissed her—slow and deep, like trying to pour everything you felt into her, trying to tell her that this was real, that you meant it, that she didn’t have to be afraid.

she didn’t say much after that. she didn’t need to. she just pulled you into her arms again, held you against her chest, her lips pressed to the crown of your head as her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back.

neither of you spoke for a long time. just the sound of your breaths, your heartbeats, intertwined and steady.

and then, as you were drifting off, she whispered it again. "i love you."

just to make sure you knew.

*

the first time hyun-ju told you about thailand, it was a slow evening, one of those where neither of you wanted to say goodbye yet, so you found yourselves in the fluorescent glow of a convenience store. the air was thick with the smell of warm broth from the instant ramen station, the low hum of a refrigerator filling the silence as the two of you waited for your onigiri to heat up in the microwave.

"thailand has some of the best surgeons in the world for gender-affirming surgery," she had said then, like it was an idle thought, a passing remark.

you glanced up from your juice selection, tilting your head. "yeah?"

she nodded, taking a slow sip of her strawberry milk. "a friend of mine from the support group, jaidee, she’s thai. she told me all about it–her surgery. people from all over the world go there. the doctors are some of the best, and it’s still expensive, but not as much as here."

you closed the fridge door and leaned against it, watching her. there was something careful in the way she spoke, like she was testing the waters, unsure if she should let herself hope.

"i thought insurance covered some of it here?" you asked.

hyun-ju scoffed, shaking her head. "barely. and even then, you have to jump through a million hoops. you have to prove you're 'serious enough,' that it won’t be a 'regretful decision.' they make you wait, make you beg for something that should already be yours." she sighed, stirring the ice in her cup with her straw. "even if i could qualify for aid, i'd still have to pay most of it on my own. and i don’t exactly have that kind of money lying around."

there was something in her voice—something tired. you hated that she had to carry this weight, that something so personal, so necessary, had to be treated like a privilege she had to earn.

"is that where you want to go?" you asked softly.

she hesitated, then nodded. "yeah. when i can afford it."

something about the way she said it made your chest ache.

"i have money saved up," you offered. "i could—"

"no," she interrupted gently, shaking her head before you could finish. "i can't ask that of you."

"you’re not asking, i’m offering."

she smiled, small but warm. "i know. but this is something i need to do for myself."

you understood, even if part of you wished she’d let you carry some of the burden.

so instead, you squeezed her hand and said, "well, when the time comes, i’m coming with you. you don’t even have to ask."

that was when she laughed, something bright and unguarded. "of course you are. it was never a doubt"

and now, months later, that conversation echoed in your mind as you stood outside her apartment, an a3 folder tucked under your arm.

hyun-ju had been sick all day, a minor flu keeping her in bed, her texts throughout the afternoon slow and pitiful—“i think i’m dying.” “i hate everything.” “the only thing keeping me alive is the hope of your love.”

you laughed at your phone every time she sent something dramatic, teasing her relentlessly, but a part of you did feel bad that you couldn’t be there earlier. so, you decided to bring her something to lift her spirits.

when she answered the door, wrapped in a thick hoodie, her hair still slightly damp from a shower, she blinked at the folder in your hands.

"what’s that?" she asked, voice scratchy.

you leaned in to kiss her, only for her to lean back immediately. "i don’t want to give you my virus, aein!"

you laughed, nudging her inside. "fine, fine. but come sit with me, we’re making something."

she followed you to the living room, watching as you spread out the contents of the folder—paper, markers, scissors, glue, magazines, and printed images.

"a vision board?" she asked, tilting her head.

"yep." you arranged the materials with the same focus you used when planning ad campaigns at work. "we make them all the time at the agency. it’s basically a collage of images and words representing a project–-in our case, a goal. so today, we’re making a thailand vision board."

hyun-ju blinked at you, then at the scattered materials. "you're really serious about this."

"of course i am." you cut out a small photo of a bangkok skyline and placed it in the center of the board. "it’s your dream. and we’re going to make it happen."

you didn’t notice at first, too focused on arranging the pictures, but when you finally glanced up, hyun-ju was staring at you, something unreadable in her expression.

"what?" you asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

she shook her head with a soft chuckle. "nothing. you’re just… too cute when you get all excited."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the warmth in your chest. "shut up and help me cut these."

for the next hour, the two of you worked side by side. you printed out images, flipped through old magazines, and carefully glued everything onto a large sheet of paper. there was a map of thailand, images of white sand beaches, street food stalls, and bustling city streets. you glued an old 1,000 won bill to the bottom corner—"for good luck," you said. hyun-ju found the phrase "new beginnings" in a magazine and placed it near the center, close to a selfie of you two. you added tiny heart stickers, while she carefully placed the trans and lesbian pride flags in the corners.

and right in the middle, in bold marker, you wrote thailand.

when it was done, you both sat back, admiring the finished board.

"it’s perfect," hyun-ju murmured.

you grinned. "we’re perfect."

she laughed, shaking her head, but you could tell she was touched.

her fingers traced over the edges of the board, her smile softening. "this means a lot."

you reached for her hand, squeezing gently. "we’re really going to do this, hyun-ju. one day, we’ll be standing there for real, looking at the actual thing."

she exhaled, pressing her forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut. "yeah," she whispered. "one day."

you hung the board on the living room wall, right beside her taekwondo belts, where it would be impossible to ignore. every time she saw it, she’d be reminded: this dream wasn’t just hers anymore.

it was yours, too.

*

but being with hyun-ju wasn’t always effortless. in the beginning, she kept parts of herself tucked away, hesitant to voice her feelings or desires. she had a habit of retreating, of swallowing words before they could fully form. it wasn’t that she didn’t care—you knew she did—but sometimes, it felt like she was afraid to ask for too much. you remember the first real fight you ever had, just a month into your relationship, and how it all started because of this—because you wanted openness, and she wasn’t sure how to give it yet.

hyun-ju has always been touchy with you. in your apartment, in her apartment, curled up on the couch, wrapped around you in bed—her hands are a constant presence, tucking your hair behind your ear, tracing slow circles on your wrist, squeezing your knee when she laughs. she holds you like it's instinct, like letting go isn’t an option.

but outside, it’s different.

she walks beside you but doesn’t touch you. when you try to loop your arm through hers, she shifts, just slightly, so the moment passes unnoticed. when you reach for her hand, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, busies herself adjusting her sleeves. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but once you notice it, you can’t unsee it.

at first, you tell yourself it’s just a habit. maybe she’s distracted. maybe she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. but then weeks pass, and you see the pattern—the careful space she leaves between you, the way she subtly angles her body away in public, the contrast of how freely she touches you when no one else is around.

and it starts to eat at you.

you don’t want to care. you don’t want this to feel like a rejection. but the inconsistency claws at your chest, whispering things you don’t want to believe. she’s ashamed of you. she doesn’t want people to know.

you try not to think about it. until you can’t anymore.

it happens on a quiet evening, walking back from a late dinner. the streets aren’t crowded, the air is cool, and the city hums around you. it’s one of those moments that should be easy—just the two of you, walking home, full and content.

you reach for her hand. and like always, she finds a way to avoid it; she scratches her arm, pretends to fix the sleeve of her jacket, tucks her fingers into her pocket.

that’s it.

"are you ashamed of me?"

the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. they hang between you, sharp and heavy, cutting through the night air.

hyun-ju stops walking.

"what?" her voice is quiet, careful, like she misheard you and hopes you won’t repeat it.

"you heard me." you turn to face her fully, arms crossed, trying to keep your voice steady even though your chest feels tight. "are you ashamed of me?"

her brows furrow. "what are you talking about?"

you laugh, but it’s hollow. "i mean, it’s obvious, right? you won’t even hold my hand in public. you keep your distance like—like you don’t want anyone to know we’re together."

hyun-ju flinches, just barely, but enough.

"that’s not true," she says, but there’s something fragile in her voice, something unsure.

"then what is it?" you press. "because i’ve been nothing but honest with you. you know how hard it was for me to come to terms with this, to finally let go of all the shit i was taught about what my life was supposed to look like. and now i just— i want to live, hyun-ju. i want to hold my girlfriend’s hand. i don’t want to have to wonder if she’s embarrassed by me."

her jaw tightens, her eyes dart away. she’s silent for a moment, then she exhales sharply, like she's been holding something in.

"it’s not you," she says finally. "it’s never been you."

"then what?" you demand, frustration creeping into your voice. "because it sure as hell feels like it’s me."

hyun-ju exhaled shakily, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “because i’m afraid,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

the words knock the wind out of you.

“afraid of what?”

hyun-ju looks away, crossing her arms over her chest. "you don’t know what it’s like," she says firmly. "to have people glare at you just for existing. to hear whispers, to feel their eyes on you like you don’t belong. and sometimes, it’s worse than that." she pauses, as if debating whether to continue, then finally says, "i’ve been grabbed before. shoved. just for being me .i’ve seen what happens to girls like me when the wrong person decides to take it further. and i can handle that—i’ve always been able to handle it. but you…” her voice cracked, and she looked away. “you’re not like me. you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”"

your heart clenches.

she lifts her gaze to yours, and her eyes are burning, raw with something you recognize as fear and fury tangled together. "and you— you’re…" she exhales sharply. "you’re strong, but you’re not trained for that. what if someone tries something? what if i can’t stop them in time?"

she rubs her face, looking exhausted. "it’s not that i don’t want to hold your hand. i just— i don’t know how to stop being afraid."

the anger drains from your body, leaving only aching frustration and something softer, something unbearably tender.

you take a step closer. "i get it," you say, voice gentler now. "i do. and i know it’s different for you. but i don’t want to live my life in fear. i’ve already spent too much time doing that. i don’t care what people think anymore. i just want to be with you."

she looks at you, something unreadable in her eyes.

"you don’t have to prove anything," you continue. "i’m not asking you to throw yourself into danger. but i- i want to hold your hand, hyun-ju. that’s all. just… let me hold your hand."

she nods, just once. "i’ll try."

and she does.

the next time you go out, she intertwines her fingers with yours. it’s hesitant at first, light, as if she’s testing the weight of it. then she squeezes your hand properly, and warmth spreads through you. but then, two old women pass by, their expressions twisting in distaste. hyun-ju drops your hand immediately.

another time, a man mutters something disgusting under his breath as he walks by, and again, she pulls away. both times, you fight. not because she let go, but because she keeps trying and then stopping, keeps giving you hope and then snatching it away.

the third time, you refused to let go.

hyun-ju’s hand was in yours as you walked through the busy streets, her palm damp with sweat. you could feel the tension in her grip, the way her fingers twitched as if she wanted to pull away. but you held on tighter. when she glanced at you, her expression a mix of fear and determination, you gave her a small, reassuring smile.

by the time you reached your car, her breath was labored, her shoulders rising and falling as if she’d just run a marathon.

“i didn’t let go,” she said, her voice shaky but triumphant.

“you didn’t,” you said, your chest swelling with pride.

hyun-ju exhaled, a small, tentative smile spreading across her face. “it was hard, but… it felt good. being with you like that.”

you reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “you don’t have to do it all at once. just take it one step at a time. i’m not going anywhere.”

*

ha-neul’s apartment looked like something straight out of a lifestyle magazine—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, sleek modern furniture, a dining table that seated twelve despite the fact that she lived alone. the kind of space designed for entertaining, and she loved to entertain. her dinner parties had become something of a tradition in your friend group, always featuring a private chef, good wine, and an excuse to indulge in both food and conversation. the guest list was carefully curated—never too big, always people she trusted to create the perfect balance between fun and relaxed.

this time, you wanted hyun-ju to be there.

when you first brought it up, she hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on your couch. "i don’t know… your friends might not be comfortable with me there."

"hyun-ju, they’re my closest friends," you reassured her, squeezing her knee. "they know about us, and they’re the most open-minded people i know. it’s not going to be weird."

she still seemed unsure, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "it’s just… i don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable."

you sighed, tilting your head at her. "aein, you’re not an outsider. you’re my girlfriend. i want them to know you."

that word—girlfriend—made something soften in her expression. she looked at you for a long moment before exhaling, nodding once. "okay," she said. "i’ll go."

you arrived at ha-neul’s place right on time, greeted instantly by the scent of something buttery and rich wafting from the open kitchen, where a chef was busy plating appetizers. soft jazz played in the background, and the apartment was already buzzing with chatter and laughter from the small group scattered around the living space. ha-neul spotted you from across the room, raising a glass of white wine in greeting. "my favorite couple has arrived!"

hyun-ju tensed slightly at the attention, but you simply rolled your eyes and guided her further inside.

"stop embarrassing me five seconds after i walk through the door," you muttered through a smile, and ha-neul grinned.

"no promises. now, introduce me properly before i steal your girlfriend away."

hyun-ju chuckled at that, and you relaxed.

the introductions went smoothly—hyun-ju’s natural charm quickly melting away any lingering apprehension. by the time everyone sat down at the long dining table, the initial stiffness had disappeared. the conversation flowed effortlessly, moving from topic to topic. ha-neul and you remembered the time a ridiculous client who demanded fifteen logo variations before going with the first one she was shown. one of your coworkers, ji-won, admitted he had fallen asleep on a zoom call that morning, only to jolt awake when his name was called.

"did you play it off?" ha-neul asked, smirking over her wine glass.

ji-won groaned. "i tried, but there’s security footage. my manager literally sent me a screenshot of my drooling face."

laughter rippled around the table, hyun-ju included. she had been quiet at first, mostly listening, but now she was leaning in, engaged in the conversation.

"i fell asleep standing once," she admitted, making everyone turn to her in surprise.

"no way," ha-neul said, intrigued. "how?"

hyun-ju shrugged, a small grin tugging at her lips. "during a night drill in the army. we were in formation, waiting for the officer’s orders, and i guess i just… blacked out for a second. next thing i knew, someone was shaking me awake."

"wait, wait—so you were literally upright? just unconscious?" ji-won asked, eyes wide.

"yup," hyun-ju confirmed.

"that’s a new level of exhaustion. i’m impressed."

the night unfolded in a haze of stories, effortless laughter, and wine glasses that never seemed to stay empty for long. by the time dessert was served, hyun-ju had fully settled in, her usual guardedness replaced by easy amusement. she chuckled when another friend enthusiastically showcased their never-ending repertoire of k-pop choreography and outright laughed at your attempt to belt out a duet with ha-neul, shaking her head at the dramatic high notes you two definitely couldn't reach. at some point, beneath the table, your fingers brushed against hers. you gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and without hesitation, she squeezed back.

by the end of the night, ha-neul pulled you aside before you left and whispered, "i like her. you better not mess this up," you just smiled.

"i don’t plan to," you replied.

the next morning, as you sat at your desk, sipping coffee and scrolling through the group chat, when a notification popped up. a photo from the dinner party, everyone laughing, glasses raised. you and hyun-ju were seated close, your arm looped around hers, your head tilted slightly against her shoulder. you loved the photo. it was warm, real, a snapshot of a night you’d remember.

then a message from your boss: who’s the new girl?

you quickly replied, that’s my girlfriend.

your heart pounded as you sent it. it wasn’t that you were ashamed—never that. but there was something unnerving about seeing it stated so plainly in a professional space. you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or anticipation, but you felt it settle deep in your chest.

later that day, you were called into your boss’s office. the door was slightly ajar when you arrived, the faint hum of the air conditioner filling the quiet space. you knocked lightly, and she looked up from her desk, offering a small smile.

“come in,” she said, gesturing to the chair across from her.

you stepped inside, your stomach twisting slightly. you’d been replaying the events of the dinner party in your head all morning, wondering if this meeting was about the photo.

your boss folded her hands on the desk, her expression kind but cautious. “thanks for coming by. i just wanted to have a quick chat.”

you nodded, keeping your face neutral. “of course. what’s on your mind?”

she hesitated for a moment, then offered a small, apologetic smile. “i saw the photo from the dinner party last night. it looked like a great time—everyone seemed so relaxed and happy.”

“it was,” you said, your voice steady. “it was nice to spend time with everyone outside of work.”

her smile lingered, but there was a hint of something else behind it—concern, perhaps. “you mentioned that the woman sitting next to you is your girlfriend?”

your chest tightened slightly, but you nodded. “yes, that’s hyun-ju.”

she paused, her expression softening further. “first of all, let me say that i’m so happy for you. it’s clear from the photo that you two care about each other a lot, and that’s wonderful to see.”

“thank you,” you said, your voice quieter now.

she paused, her lips pressing together briefly before she spoke again. “i want to start by saying that i respect your personal life, and it’s not my place to comment on who you date. you’re an excellent employee, and that’s what matters to me.”

you exhaled a small breath of relief, but you could tell there was more.

“that being said,” she continued, her tone careful, “i feel like it’s my responsibility to… make sure you’re aware of how this could be perceived by others. not here, of course—our agency is very open-minded, and everyone i’ve spoken to has nothing but respect for you. but outside of this bubble, in the broader professional world, things can still be… challenging.”

you stiffened slightly, your hands gripping the edge of the chair. “challenging how?”

she sighed, her fingers drumming lightly against the desk. “you know how things are in korea. while there’s been progress in recent years, there’s still a lot of stigma around lgbtq relationships. some clients, some partners we work with… they might not share the same level of acceptance. and i worry that if word gets out, it could complicate things for you.”

you felt your stomach twist, the weight of her words settling over you like a heavy blanket. “are you saying this could be a problem?”

she sighed, her fingers drumming lightly against the desk. “not here, no. your colleagues respect you, and your work speaks for itself. but with clients… it’s hard to say. there are still people who hold outdated views, and sometimes they let those views influence their decisions, even if it has nothing to do with the work itself.”

you frowned, leaning forward slightly. “has that happened before? has a client ever withdrawn a contract because of something like this?”

she hesitated, her lips pressing together briefly before she nodded. “it’s rare, but yes, it has happened. not often, and not always for the reasons you’d expect. but i’ve seen clients make excuses, find ways to back out of deals, and it’s hard not to notice the pattern when it happens.”

her honesty stung, even though you’d expected it. “and you think that could happen to me?”

“i don’t know,” she admitted, her voice soft. “your portfolio is incredible, and your work ethic is unmatched. but sometimes, people don’t see that. they only see what they want to see.”

you leaned back in your chair, your chest tightening further. “i’ve worked so hard to get here,” you said quietly. “i’ve put everything into this job. and now you’re telling me that it might not matter because of who i love?”

her eyes softened, and she shook her head. “i’m not saying it doesn’t matter. it matters so much. and it’s not fair that you even have to think about this. i just want you to be aware of the risks so you’re not blindsided if something does happen.”

you looked down at your hands, your mind racing. “it’s just… i’ve spent so much of my life hiding who i am. i don’t want to do that anymore. i don’t want to pretend that hyun-ju isn’t important to me just because some client might not like it.”

“i understand,” she said gently. “and i admire that about you. truly. it’s not easy to live authentically, especially here. and i want you to know that i’m here to support you, no matter what. if anything comes up—if you ever feel like someone’s treating you unfairly—i’ll be in your corner.”

her words eased some of the tension in your chest, and you nodded slowly. “thank you. that means a lot.”

she smiled, her warmth returning. “hyun-ju seems lovely. i hope i get to meet her someday.”

“she is,” you said, your lips curving into a small smile. “and i think you’d like her.”

as you left her office, the knot in your stomach began to unravel. the conversation hadn’t been easy, but it also reminded you of why you were fighting to live authentically. for yourself. for hyun-ju. for the life you wanted to build together, no matter what anyone else thought.

[z4ync]

We seriously need more GBA related fics so here it goes- I NEED a fluff fic where Hipswitch finally finds out Karmor likes him.

I have a small scenario suggestion, but feel free to indulge in creative ideas of your own!

-> The gang go out on a little event, kinda like a rodeo for bounty hunters and cowboys and such(ever watched Helluva Boss? Imagine that one EP of the harvest moon festival). After the games and events are settled, all of the participants engage in a salon dance thingie as well as free drinks, just a silly little after event for everyone to relax and enjoy some socializing.

Hipswitch decides to not participate since he didn't know anyone in the rodeo, and also bcs the owners of the small bar in there weren't particularly fond of Obscurans(even if there were some in the rodeo). But then Karmor/Partner comes along and asks Hipswitch to dance with him, which he's surprised.

He tries to talk Partner out of inviting him and tries to convince him to look for a more "organic" partner instead, but Karmor refuses. So they go to dance and from there you may decide how Hipswitch finally persuade his own feelings for Karmor :D

I did however really want to bring out the fact that Hipswitch is afraid to love, since he probably doesn't think he's worthy of such a thing. And seeing Karmor loving him just...y'know?🥺💞 <- I'm very normal about them(lie)

Sorry for the ramble! Again, feel free to do what you wish!! 🩷

- 🌟

Awe thanks for the request, 🌟. It's so cute :D absolutely twin I'm so normal about them (LIES)

Twistin' and Turnin'

I LOVE THIS REQUEST. Gods I hope Mr crazy man GBA sees this and makes this anon request an episode of sorts, I'd give him my first born

Fluff

QUICK NOTE BEFORE WE START! if you haven't watched BvZ (go do it now) Karmor/Partner is mute and for the most part, in my head, communicates in sign language and big facial expressions. (Also I headcanon him as autistic because I am so he is too)

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯

Big day. Or at least that's how Albus had been sarcastically saying all day. Apparently the boys had found out about some rodeo that was coming to town and as a joke both Albus— the bastard— had made the executive decision, that the other three didn't get a say in, that they were going for the shits and giggles.

Karmor tried his damn hardest to tell him that he'd much rather stay in one place, that he wanted to stay home and read, but he'd got the other two on their sides and it's a lot easier to ignore hands then it is to ignore a voice

▄︻デ══━一

"they got free drinks" Albus whistled as they walked around, the events were beginning to settle and Karmor kept dragging Hipswitch and Albus away from the games to prevent a dick measuring contest from starting.

"not a single one of us should be drinking" Karmor signed. He'd gotten better at signing quickly, mostly to combat Albus' quick mind. "And anyways Hipswitch can't drink"

"come on partner, I'm sure you wouldn't mind a drink or two" Hipswitch's southern accent made Karmor melt, it always did. It was far less harsh than Albus and Attila's voices, and more solid than Mahatma's.

"dancing maybe, drinking no, Albus is just going to get wasted and—" he looked at his hands, trying to remember the sign for "annoying". He ran through a few signs before just flipping off Albus in frustration, for a normally calm and sweet person Karmor was easily annoyed by inconveniences like forgetting.

▄︻デ══━一

Karmor stared longingly at the crowd of people dancing their hearts out, Kissing the people they love, singing their voices away. He'd never been good with his confidence, so he was struggling to ask the Obscuran at his side to dance.

He didn't have the words, literally and figuratively, and couldn't get Hipswitch to look at him. Maybe he was just—

"Partner, are you alright?" Hipswitch lightly poked Karmor's arm, scaring the living daylights out of him and causing him to fall out of the chair he was sitting in— knees up to his chest and the only thing touching the seat of the chair being his feet, obviously, so he was already unstable.

He got up quickly, nodding and sitting back down, before standing up again and forcing down all the nerves that bubbled up his throat and through his skin. "Dance with me." it was supposed to be a question, but it didn't seem like it was

"What?" The other man laughed "dance with ya? Partner, I'm not too sure I'm the greatest to dance with, you might want someone more... Organic, for that." He tried to de-sway the man from the idea, but Karmor is stubborn.

"dance with me" it was obvious he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Hipswitch sighed, his metal man's coming up to ruffle the mute man's hair "don't say I didn't warn ya" he said it like he had no choice in it— which was a lie, he could've said no, but Karmor would start sulking and wouldn't do anything else.

Hipswitch could've stayed there all day; Karmor's hand in his and the biggest smile on his face as he dragged him to the very edges of the dance floor.

But of course the second his foot hit the dance floor a partner song blasted through the pavilion, one of those slow ones reserved for couples and families. But Hipswitch agreed and he wanted nothing more than to make Karmor keep smiling.

"I'm gonna step on your toes" he warned, but Karmor only shook his head no, tapping the rhythm into Hipswitch's back.

Karmor's eyes were everywhere but Hipswitch, as it was so unbearably difficult to hold eyes contact with someone you liked.

Hipswitch always noticed that, and he'd ask about it but it would make Karmor let go of him and he'd already sunk into the warm metal man. Once he was attached it was hard to get him off, proven most by if you put the perpetually cold man in a warm bed, you wouldn't be able to get him out without luring him with Hipswitch and food.

A few girls had asked Karmor to dance, but just shook his head and signed "I'm not good company" or "I can't dance"

There was another thing, he always needed Hip— oh. OH.

The realization hit him like a run of bricks. Albus wasn't just playing with him, right? Whump— Karmor— Partner was always looking for Hipswitch, he was always near him, was what that what Albus was talking about

He took a moment to think, the feeling of the human's fingers tapping something into his back. It was a Rhythm of something no one knew, not even Karmor knew himself.

"Partner... I have a question" he looked down at the human. His eyes were on him expectantly. "Albus has been... Sayin' stuff, I want to know if they're true."

Karmor looked nervous, guilty, and his face was 6 times more red than before. He nodded, and had Hipswitch lead them out of the crowd. He longed to be back in it, no matter how loud crowds were, he enjoyed that.

"what has he been saying?" Damn Albus and his loud mouth.

"he's been saying..." It took Hipswitch a moment to form the words, mostly because he could ruin everything up to this and because of Karmor's unwavering stare. "Things about you likin' me"

Karmor wanted to run, to scream, to cry, to kill himself— but his voice was so shot that he can't really scream well and his hand was still in Hipswitch's so the other options weren't on the table

"and if they're true?"

"I wouldn't mind"

Karmor's eyes lit up, he thought that he was gonna have to take Hipswitch's gun and shoot himself, but he didn't! Hurray!

"it's true I like—" he stopped, he felt like a kid again, even if he didn't remember what that was like for him. Like felt too childish, to compare what he felt to just like was a crime, it was wrong

"I love you" Karmor's eyes squeezed shut, he couldn't open them. what if Hipswitch looked uncomfortable or disgusted.

Karmor was startled by arms wrapping him in an embrace. He started crying, he didn't know why he just did.

"I love you too"

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯

A/N. Sorry if this is all over the place, I'm not too good at writing and I actually haven't gotten to the most recent episode of BvZ yet because each episode is like an hour long and I end up passing out during them.

[autumnsplash]

It feels like a crossroads that was provided to every AA player, your options are three paths:

Path 1: Phoenix is an alcoholic. He is a person, he is a character, but he is struggling while being responsible for a young child and that is a part of his character you must grapple with should you take the "grape juice" as a move of censorship.

Path 2: Phoenix WAS an alcoholic, but now drinks grape juice instead of wine as a coping method. This loosely resembles more thinks from Takumis life, a past addiction, and a genuine fondness for an innocent drink. It's a sign of Phoenix HAVING had those problems, but working to fix them. It casts shadow onto his character, but not in visible ways the audience directly has to interact with.

Path 3: It's just grape juice. This interpretation seems plausible! It's a game that has many gags like it, and the thought of it being taken seriously didn't occur to them/wasn't important.

I feel like The Grape Juice (tm) poses a really unique story problem however. Because of the way it is implemented, in the medium it's in, how it's delivered, the implications are UNCLEAR, forcing the player to pick one of the above interpretations. Having an interpretive part of you media is good writing, and perfectly normal. However, I bump into an issue with this because it's asking the Player to put their own personal implications onto a main character that drastically changes parts of who they are in such a way that will never see resolution.

We do not have confirmation as to which of these interpretations is closest to cannon. Just that it's there, and then brushed aside and never clarified. Readings of Phoenix being an alcoholic while being the sole guardian of a small child seems equally as probable as him not being guilty of anything other than a sight gag, and to have a main character having that potential only to never address it again and hoist him uncritically back into "the hero" position that later games have him in feels confusing and off-putting.

I love this game so so much, but it's one of the many parts of AA4 that I feel was really under delivered and unresolved. Just remember that, because all three of these are possible readings, a lot of people will have very different feelings about Phoenix as a character based upon different actions that may or may not have happened, which is annoying for such a huge character, but please always be nice!

I recently played the trilogy and haven't made it to the forth game yet (I don't know if I should because no Maya and I feel bad for him for losing his badge), could you please tell me what happens with Phoenix and alcoholism? (only if you feel like it)

definitely at least give aa4 a chance! its not for everyone but imo its got a ton of merit

gonna try and make this shortish because im not feeling super hot today and also because ive already said a lot of this. but essentially in AA4 there are bottles of what very heavily looks like wine but in both the english and japanese are referred to as bottles of grape juice

In AA4, stuff is pretty rough for phoenix. he's not in a great place, and he works odd hours at a russian bar/restaurant where he plays piano and poker. So he's regularly in a location where frequent exposure to alcohol is par for the course. Later on, in the game's second case, there's this interaction that occurs in the hospital when you investigate this bottle in his room.

Now, whether or not the game has any evidence for phoenix being an alcohol depends entirely on whether or not you interpret grape juice as being euphemistic for actual wine, or just a sight gag. I'm not sure how much the inclusion of alcohol boosts a game's rating.

i will say that none of the ace attorney games were M-rated until dual destinies. So it's entirely possible that they just called it 'grape juice' to avoid any sort of concern over that. however, i do remember reading that shu takumi's favorite drink is grape juice, which is why he wrote that in there, although I can't find the source for that now that i'm looking for it so take it with a grain of salt. I do think it is entirely plausible within the tone of ace attorney's humor that 'grape juice bottles that look exactly like wine and are just juice' is a gag they'd go for.

but the truth is, i kind of don't consider this debate relevant at all? you don't have to take the extreme of either interpretation. it is entirely possible that phoenix is a character with a fondness for grape juice who also struggles with alcohol. Maybe phoenix drinks wine when he's at the club and juice when he's at home.

It's a matter of public information that shu takumi drank pretty heavily while working on these games, including at the office if he worked nights or weekends, and it's also been well established that takumi based phoenix a lot on himself. so i think interpreting phoenix as a character with an addiction problem has a lot of merit. On the other hand, I do understand that that's not how some people view him, and that's totally fine. My big problem comes in when people try to act like it is impossible, ludicrous, or somehow harmful to the character's integrity to portray him as an addict.

I think when people try and 'disprove' the headcanon it's always a pretty shitty thing to do, given shu takumi's history. why can you enjoy something written by someone w/ alcohol issues but you draw the line at any of that making its way into the story, even euphemistically? yknow?

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Unintended Acceptance Speech (Part 2)

@tomdayaloveforever this is the best I could do, I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

The night was buzzing as Marshall and you made your way down the red carpet at the next big awards show. You were dressed to the nines—elegant and understated—while Marshall, ever the reluctant fashion icon, had settled on a sleek black suit with a touch of his classic rebellious flair.

But as soon as you two hit the carpet, flashes exploded in your faces. Reporters clamored, eager for a glimpse of the elusive Eminem, the elusive legend.

“Em! Em! Over here!” One reporter waved eagerly, a mic in hand. Marshall gave a small nod in acknowledgment but kept walking. It was nothing new—he’d been in this game long enough to know how to navigate the circus.

Then, it happened.

Another reporter—who’d clearly been waiting for this moment—suddenly grinned, practically bouncing on their heels. “Eminem! Quick question: after your… flower park incident at the Brits, what are you expecting tonight? A more traditional acceptance speech, or should we expect some floral-inspired moments again?”

The second those words left their mouth, the crowd went silent. It was like a collective gasp filled the air.

Marshall froze mid-step. You could almost feel the weight of his frustration building, but before he could process it, another reporter jumped in. “Are you planning on taking Y/N to a rose garden tonight? I mean, could we see a new ‘Eminem and Flowers’ series?”

Marshall turned to you, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he gave you a look. You tried to keep your composure, but you couldn't help the giggle that escaped.

“Man,” he said, shaking his head and holding up a finger for emphasis. “Look, I wasn’t out there tryna’ start a trend. I went to a flower park with my wife, and somebody had to FaceTime me right then. That’s on them. Don’t blame me for the heart-shaped bushes.”

You let out a snicker, covering your mouth, but it only made Marshall roll his eyes even more dramatically.

“Hey, we all need a little flower power in our lives, right?” you teased, nudging him. “You were just living your best life.”

Marshall gave you a side-eye. “I swear, if this turns into my new ‘brand,’ we’re gonna have a serious talk about these flower-themed fan clubs popping up.” He shot a playful glare at the cameras. “I mean, come on. When I signed up to be a rapper, I didn’t think I’d be known for being the guy who loves flowers.”

The crowd burst into laughter, but before Marshall could take the next step, a reporter asked, “But seriously—does it feel like that moment changed how people see you, like, maybe it humanized you?”

Marshall blinked, clearly thrown off for a second. You could see his gears grinding, but then, he shot the reporter a knowing look.

“Humanized me? Man, I’ve been human. I’ve just been gruff about it for a minute. I still got bars, though. And flowers.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, making sure everyone knew he was fully aware of the absurdity of it all.

You chuckled, leaning into him. “To be fair, I think the flowers really did suit you. You were looking pretty peaceful out there.”

“Peaceful? I’m hardcore!” Marshall shot back, but his smile betrayed him. “At least now I know… no more FaceTime calls when I’m out flower-hunting.”

You winked. “I’ll take you to more parks, though. Just promise me no more heart-shaped bushes for the next big award show?”

He narrowed his eyes, sarcastically. “I promise. No more bushes. Or if I do, it’ll be some real hardcore, dark, Gothic bush.”

The reporters were cracking up, the tension gone. Marshall was, once again, being the real Marshall—fierce but with a sense of humor that no one could resist.

As the questions continued, one reporter couldn't help themselves. “So, when’s the next Eminem Rose Garden album coming out? Or are we getting some lavender-scented merch?”

Marshall groaned, rubbing his temples as you laughed beside him.

“I can already see the headlines tomorrow,” he muttered. “The ‘Eminem Flower Collection’ drops just in time for spring. Real tough guy vibes.” He shot a look at the cameras. “Y’all really want me to become a florist now?”

“No, but you’ve definitely made it interesting,” another reporter quipped, with a smirk.

As you and Marshall continued down the carpet, the laughter and the jokes followed. Somehow, the flower park moment had turned into a hilarious piece of pop culture history, one that Marshall would never live down. But at least, for once, he could take the absurdity in stride.

You leaned into him with a smile. “I guess ‘hardcore rapper with a soft side’ is gonna be your new tagline.”

Marshall glanced at you, his eyes softening, before he said, “I’ll take it, as long as it doesn’t come with a damn bouquet.”

You burst into laughter. “It’s a deal, babe.”

[aquamarixx]

the homeowner effect

Niko Ikki never knew owning a house could be such an icebreaker—until his blind date’s flustered, accidental comment leaves him wondering if this might be his best date yet. pairing niko ikki x reader tags post manga timeskip, aged up characters, fluff, happy birthday niko! navigation

Your friend, Otoya, sets you up with someone he knows. According to him, his friend is a “nice guy”—a term that usually makes you suspicious. Otoya isn’t exactly known for being a stellar matchmaker, after all. But so far, the guy in question, Niko Ikki, is polite, attentive, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

He likes anime and manga. He has pretty good taste in music, too. He seems too good to be true, and you can’t help but test the waters a little to get him a little bit better.

“So, where do you live?” you ask, stabbing the carrot cake you’ve ordered to share.

He casually name-drops a notoriously expensive and quiet neighborhood. “It’s nice and peaceful there,” he says.

You nearly choke on your drink. “Wait, seriously? You live there?”

He nods as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Yeah.”

Curiosity gets the better of you. “So… do you share the rent with someone? Like a roommate or…?”

He blinks, looking slightly confused, as if the thought hasn’t even occurred to him. “No. I, uh… I own the place.”

Your fork clatters onto your plate, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. You don’t care. “You own it?”

“Yeah,” he admits softly, the tips of his ears turning red. “I bought it last year.”

“You bought it last year?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

He tilts his head slightly, as though he can’t quite understand why you look so shocked. “Yes.”

“Wait, you’re 27, right?”

“Yeah, 27,” he confirms, taking a sip of his drink.

You stare at him in disbelief, the pieces of information refusing to settle in your brain. “Okay, so… you own your place in one of the priciest neighborhoods in the city. How? I mean—are you, like, a trust fund baby or something? What do you do?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “No, no trust fund. I just… work hard and save. I play sports.”

“Like professionally?” you ask, your voice laced with amazement.

“Kind of,” he says with a small shrug. “It’s for a local team.” Well, technically, the Japan National Team is a local team, Niko thinks.

Your gaze drifts over him, noticing for the first time how well-built he is. He catches you looking, and you quickly cough, averting your eyes. But your thoughts linger on the bigger revelation: he owns his place.

And you’re impressed. Stunned, really. Here you are at 25, living in a shared house with your best friend and still making payments on a car loan your parents had practically forced you to buy. And meanwhile, Niko—calm, humble, and ridiculously cute Niko—is out here playing sports for a living and owning a house in this economy.

“You own your own house,” you repeat, almost in disbelief.

“Yes,” he says again, his voice steady but his ears now bright red under your scrutiny.

Before you can stop yourself, you mutter, “Wow, that’s hot.”

Niko freezes mid-sip, his eyes snapping to yours. His cheeks turn a deep pink, and his lips part as if he’s not sure he’s heard you right. “H-Hot?”

You groan, slapping a hand over your face. “Oh my god, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

He looks down at his glass, his fingers brushing the edge nervously. But then, a soft smile tugs at his lips, and he lets out a quiet laugh. “I mean… thanks?”

Peeking at him through your fingers, you find his shy but amused expression making your heart flutter. It’s not fair. Not only is he financially stable and smart, but he also has this quiet, unassuming charm that makes you want to know more.

“So, uh,” you say awkwardly, trying to recover, “what else are you hiding? Do you, like, run your own company on the side or something?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. I’m just a regular guy who likes anime, gaming, and reading manga. And plays sports for a living.” He pauses, his gaze meeting yours, and his tone softens. “And I think this is the first time anyone’s ever called me ‘hot�� because of where I live.”

“Well,” you say with a shrug, trying to act cool despite the warmth creeping up your neck, “there’s a first time for everything.”

He laughs again, the sound warm and genuine, and you feel yourself relax. This date isn’t just going well. It’s easily the best one he's had in a long time.

amari's notes: happy birthday to one of my faves and fellow aquarius baby, niko! i am going all out celebrating his birthday. made a fanfic, made a cake and commissioned an art! there are some niko merch i managed to get and hopefully i get more!

taglist: @inu1gf

[idciminlove]

FIGHTER.

Part Six - Six

Kang Dae Ho x f!reader

Cinnamonacid on AO3

Warnings - death, misogyny, slightly androgynous themes, anxiety, blood, etc.

You participate in the next game, the six legged pentathlon.

Six Legged Pentathlon. You will be chained together by the ankle, and each member will complete a game in order to move on. You must finish the race within five minutes, or else all players will be eliminated. The mini games are as follows:

Game 1 - Ddakji

Game 2 - Flying stone

Game 3 - Gonggi

Game 4 - Spinning top

Game 5 - Jegi

One of the men in your group let out a small sigh of relief. “Ah, so it’s good that we got a girl on our team, after all. You know how to play Gonggi, right?”

“Not really, no.” You admitted.

You never cared for girly stuff when you were younger. Never played any games like gonggi or anything like that. All you wanted to do was what your father did. Your mom would always be busy, working long shifts at the hospital as a nurse, so you spent most of your time with your Dad, and you liked it that way. Hanging out at the ring, getting to watch him train, and being able to train once you were old enough. You thought it was the coolest.

At school, you didn’t fit in anywhere. The girls thought you were too boyish, and the boys thought you were too girlish. The girls would whisper mean things about you behind your back, and the boys? They just said it to your face. It never ended well, always turning into a fight with someone getting hurt and crying. You only had a few friends throughout those years, and they never stayed. No best friends, no forever, only strangers that came and went.

“Seriously? What are they teaching you kids these days?” He scoffed. “Just when we thought you could be useful.”

You clenched your fist, gritting your teeth together, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Deep breaths. No matter how badly you wanted to hurt this prick, you knew it would only make everything worse. The guards would probably kill you this time if you did. Stay calm and focus. Work with these assholes so you can win and get out of here alive.

“It’s alright, I can play gonggi. My daughter and I play it all the time.” 246 interjected. You smiled at him thankfully. He smiled back.

After some brief discussion, your teammates selected their roles. You picked Jegi. You’ve always been good at Jegi. Your Dad would have you play it to improve your footwork, coordination and balance. It’ll be easy. Everything will be okay.

And then, the first two teams went.

It was a complete mess, each players’ movements sloppy and uncoordinated from the adrenaline and fear running through them. One of the men even pissed himself from how afraid he was, failing the flying stone game multiple times before finally getting it. The timer ran down, and neither team made it.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut, unable to watch as the two teams were killed. The sound of their screams and flying bullets echoed around in your brain. You grabbed your pant legs, feeling your hands begin to shake, and your heart begin to race. Your chest got tight, and you tried to focus, tried to breathe. You couldn’t panic. Not again. Not in front of these men. But how could you not when it all seemed so hopeless?

Then, the next teams went. 120, 095, an elderly woman and her son: 149 and 007, and that creepy shaman lady, 044. It didn’t look good at first, the teams panicked in a similar way to the previous ones, but this team did something different. Instead of yelling and putting pressure on one another, they encouraged each other, motivated each other, telling each other exactly what they needed to hear. As they completed game after game, the players watching started to cheer, growing more and more eager.

They made it. All the players watching celebrated, reinvigorated and optimistic. They showed that these games were achievable. You could win and make it out. All you needed was to work together.

–

45 seconds remaining.

Your team had done well, managing to pass the games with little to no trouble, overcoming the obstacles when you did fail. Even though they were all bastards, the men on your team worked well together, but now, it was up to you, and you were running low on time.

You picked up the Jegi from the box with shaky hands, taking a deep breath and centering yourself. Blood stained the rainbow patterned floor beneath you, a daunting reminder of what would happen if you failed. 246 nudged your arm slightly, offering you a reassuring smile. “You got this.”

You nodded, dropping it onto your foot, kicking it up into the air. You counted under your breath.

“One, two, three, four-”

“-Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty!” You jumped up and down, beaming with excitement. You threw open the door, running inside to your father, who was standing in the kitchen, making dinner. “Papa, papa, look! I got a new record! I got twenty!”

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” He ruffled your hair. “See if you can get it to forty next time. Who knows, maybe you can break my record.”

On the counter beside him was a press release, a picture of him and another fighter on the front, facing off against each other. You picked it up, gazing down at it. “Is this your next fight?”

“Yeah, he’s a big guy. They call him Goliath.” The man did appear much bigger than your father, almost dwarfing him in size, even with your father on his bulk, his body rather large itself. You skimmed the article, reading the predictions projecting him to lose.

“Are you scared?”

“Nah, don’t you know how the story goes? David beats Goliath. He might be bigger and stronger, but my trainers helped me find his weakness. So, even though nobody believes it, I think I have a pretty good chance. You remember that, okay? No matter what anyone says, don’t give up. Don’t quit. Keep fighting, always.”

You nodded. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Go wash up, it’s time for dinner.”

–

As you kicked the Jegi for the fifth and final time, everyone cheered. Your team crossed the finish line with five seconds to spare. You did it. You won. It was a nice feeling, to have all those people rooting for you, to have all those people care. Amongst the crowd, you saw Dae-Ho, shouting at the top of his lungs and holding onto 222, both of them cheering for you. After everything you said to him, everything you did, he still rooted for you, so happy to see that you made it out, safe and sound.

You can’t help but hope that he makes it out of this game okay too.

[baggebythesea]

#showed this to my archaea researcher husband and he immediately started talking lingo#so. target audience reached

*Slams mug of coffee in the table* DID SOMEONE SAY ARCHAEA????

The archeal taxononomic group DPANN is a SERIOUSLY cool superphylum. The fact that it is a SUPERphylum is seriously cool. The fact that we know so little about it - the REASON we know so little about it.... actually, I might need to step back a bit. There's this concept called the microbial dark matter which is about invisibility to the standard detection methods. Microbes are small [Encyclopedia: Trivial Success], which means that the two standard methods of learning about them has been microscopy and cultivation. Turns out that large parts of the microbial biosphere is actually not readily identifiable by these methods. Sequencing based methods on the other hand... We find so many new strains all the time. It's like if Linneaus had looked out through the window in old age and for the first time discovered grass [Rethoric: Medium Success]. Anyway. *deep breath* DPANN contains some of the smallest cells ever seen - the nanoarchaea - and there is a lot that isn't known about their physiology. One way of learning about it is to piece together metabolic pathways from their genes, like if you looked at our genomes and saw a lot of genes for oxidative phosphorylation you would rightly get the idea that we use oxygen for our energy producing reactions. The problem is that many genes are not readily known - we can't easily predict function just from the string of letters in the DNA. What we can do is to compare it to other genomes, and hopefully better known genes. The problem is that if you look at something that is badly studied, from a group of organisms that are badly studied, and try to figure out what it does it's like if you try to understand what an unknown electronic devise does by comparing it's circuitry to whatever pieces of electronic junk you find at the local recycling station [Drama - Medium Failure]. In this case, the DPANN gene they have found most closely matches to an oxidoreducate from a slime mold - an evolutionary distance as large as between... well, the same archaea and us. This doesn't really tell us much about what the DPANN gene does, only that we don't have any better match in the databases because we have yet to scratch the surface of the true genetic diversity of the dark microbial matter, most of which will turn out to be virus anyway because the blueprint of life is a graveyard of a fleeting evolutionary purpose where we are but a momentary expression of jigsaw pieces hammered together by cruel chance [Savoir Faire - Medium Success.]

Oh, and someone gave the slime mold a cool name, but that has nothing to do with the archaea. More power to the slime mold people, though. Hilariously enough, the name was proposed 1935 and has nothing to do with the game. Annoyingly enough, Dictyostelium discoideum does NOT belong to the group Discosea because you can't get everything.

encyclopedia check for archaea knowledge

[chiptrillino]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

got tagged by @ranilla-bean with these huge eyes and expectation of sharing something specific, which i now pretend to completely forget what it was! also i forgot that i should share one thing but i already prepped 6 different ones soo... uhhh

(ID in ALT text)

tagging with absolutely no pressure, but if you would like to do! @ssreeder @chitsangenthusiast @petricorah @paramouradrift @blu3berrydraws and uh. -pointing at whom this perhaps could be crossing on the dash!- no seriously, tag me, i am noisy and curious!

[cryptidcalling]

Arguments for why characters are """Minor coded""" are getting TRULY. RIDICULOUS. Just saw a TikTok comment arguing that Maru feels too young to romance in Stardew Valley because she 1: Wears overalls 2: Doesn't have a college degree 3: Lives with her parents 4: Her dad makes protective comments about her

These can all be very easily explained as normal ass adult shit for various reasons, but OVERALLS? We're claiming that a character wearing overalls makes them seem like a minor???

[arolesbianism]

I’ve been shaky and sick all day which of course means it’s the perfect time to draw a scuffed Juliet Library of Ruina sprite

[robotsafari]

“you insolent little bitch.”

-ansem, seeker of darkness (he definitely said this)

[kinokoshoujoart]

I can't read jpn so now I want a ds/cute mod with all the dialogue (but mostly just romeo's) retranslated... he's so different... like I actually hated the localized version growing up

oh he still irritating in jp but he’s not “The Worst” (i do like “The Worst” too……) and he’s unfortunately got pretty cute dialogue and a redemption arc for the irritating

it would probably be actual hell to retranslate the whole game as a hobby project, if it wasn’t then i’m sure someone would have made an english patch for the japanese version by now considering how much stuff (gay galpal marriage) was removed for the english version

i do enjoy the wacky natsume moments in the localized version, it would also be nice if we could play the game in english without so much of the game (women) (marrying befriending women) (marrying bestfriending witch princess as a woman) being removed and instead kept. as god intended

i’ll post jp dialogue + amateur translation stuff for various events in the game that i noticed neat differences in…….. it’s not just romeo, i’m just biased to disproportionately talk about the fella who i study like a bug

[moe-broey]

At the risk of revealing I know very little about things in general, I really don't understand why Nintendo is shutting down online support for the 3DS/Wii U? Or that like, they can even Do That? Cause like, to me it makes sense that they'd have control and the say-so on the eShop, that's like, something they run as a company and Yes it absolutely sucks ass they nuked it for profit but like. Idk if I'll even phrase this right LMFAO but it seems like something they run themselves so it makes sense that they have complete authority over it. It's in their jurisdiction.

But like??? In my mind, if you have A Device that can connect to the internet it just. Should? Like I don't need a phone plan/data to use my old phone as a Youtube running device, as long as I'm connected to the internet. Like, the internet is a third party almost, one that you pay for personally and separately from any device you can use it with. I don't understand how Nintendo can intersect that and cut it off for their devices, specifically. Like, even if they have servers??? Idk how any of that works tbh I was just under the impression that if you have a device that you own and internet access. It's just those two things. Maybe it gets more complicated when it comes to games like Splatoon, but still....

[darrengrave]

The way I was such an aggressive sonic kid and yet possessed absolutely NONE of the proto-furry interests in it at all still confuses me. Like I can't even figure out what it is I DID like so much about it. The ensemble cast of personalities??

[hislittlesparklejumpropequeen]

Watching you

Hwang In-ho x female!reader.

Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia

W/c: 3,5k

It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.

He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.

When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.

When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.

“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.

“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.

“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.

And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.

When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?

Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.

“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.

He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.

“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.

He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.

Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.

“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.

“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.

———————

The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.

He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.

It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.

When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.

Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.

——————

Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.

10

You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.

Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.

“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.

“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.

“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.

Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.

He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.

The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.

“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.

“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.

“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.

“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.

“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.

“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?

“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.

Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.

“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.

“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.

His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.

You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.