#but the thing is with that is that it's not as simple as buying a hard drive and swapping it out...I gotta like. prep

[latanyalove]

Sick Day

Summary: You're sick but you don't want to disturb your busy captain and the crew.

Song: Coming Down by The Weeknd

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

The salt spray stung your face as you clung to the railing of the submarine, Polar Tang. The familiar rocking of the vessel usually soothed you, but today, it churned your stomach with a vengeance. Each swell sent a wave of nausea crashing over you, and the lump in your throat threatened to betray the secret you’d been desperately trying to keep.

“Another beautiful day at sea, eh, Y/N?” Shachi called out, his ever-present grin plastered on his face. He approached, a length of rope slung over his shoulder, and threw an arm around your shoulders.

His touch, normally comforting, felt like a brand on your feverish skin.

“Gorgeous,” you managed, forcing a smile and leaning away slightly. “Just taking in the fresh air.”

Shachi, bless his oblivious heart, seemed to buy it. “That’s the spirit! Captain’s in the library, buried in some ancient medical text again. Probably trying to find a cure for boredom.” He chuckled. “Don’t think he’s slept in days. You should see the bags under his eyes.”

Your heart clenched. That was precisely the reason you were out here, battling the waves and the growing weakness in your limbs. Trafalgar Law, your…everything, was already overworked.

He dedicated his life to the well-being of his crew, pushing himself relentlessly. The last thing he needed was you adding to his burden with a simple cold.

“Maybe I will,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. “Catch up on some reading myself.” You detached yourself from Shachi’s grip and hurried below deck, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your hands.

The air inside the submarine was thick and humid, doing little to alleviate the chill that had settled deep in your bones. You bypassed the library – Law’s sanctuary – and stumbled toward your shared cabin.

Collapsing onto the bunk, you pulled the threadbare blanket over yourself, trying to ignore the throbbing in your head and the scratchiness in your throat.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

Bepo’s anxious voice cut through the fog in your brain. You peeked out from under the blanket to see the massive polar bear crouched in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Fine, Bepo, fine,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket higher. “Just a little tired.”

Bepo wasn’t stupid. He knew you better than anyone, barring Law himself. He padded closer, his large paws silent on the metal floor.

“Your face is flushed,” he said, his voice laced with worry. “And you’re shivering. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just a little seasick,” you insisted, turning your face to the wall. “It’ll pass.”

Bepo hesitated, his ears twitching. “Maybe…maybe I should tell Captain.”

Panic flared in your chest. “No! Bepo, please don’t. He’s so busy. It’s nothing, I promise. Just let me rest.”

You knew you were being unreasonable, but desperation lent your voice a sharp edge. Bepo, always sensitive to your feelings, retreated slightly.

“Okay, Y/N,” he said softly. “But…but if you need anything, anything, you promise you’ll tell me?”

“I promise,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

Days blurred into a miserable cycle of stolen naps, forced smiles, and growing weakness. You avoided Law as much as possible, knowing he’d see through your charade in an instant.

You choked down your meals, forcing yourself to socialize with the crew, all the while battling a fever that threatened to consume you.

The hardest part was keeping your distance from Law. You craved his touch, his presence, his unwavering gaze. He was your anchor, your safe harbor in a turbulent world.

But you couldn't risk him seeing you like this, a pathetic, sniffling mess. You’d rather suffer in silence than burden him with your trivial illness.

One evening, as you were attempting to sneak a cup of herbal tea – Penguin’s well-intentioned remedy, despite your protests – Law’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N.”

You froze, your back to him. The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, a different kind of shiver than the one that racked your body with fever.

“Captain,” you said, turning around slowly. You tried to appear nonchalant, leaning against the counter as if you weren’t desperately trying to keep from collapsing.

He stood in the doorway to the galley, his dark eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. He was even more tired than Shachi had described, the lines around his mouth etched deeper, the shadows under his eyes more pronounced.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated, his voice flat.

You forced a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Captain. I’ve just been…busy.”

He raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge. “Busy doing what, exactly? Trying to master the art of disappearing?”

You swallowed, your throat burning. “I…I just wanted to give you space. You’ve been working so hard.”

He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “And you think hiding from me is helping?” He reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead. You flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re burning up,” he said, his voice laced with concern. “How long have you been sick?”

The fight drained out of you. There was no point in denying it any longer. He knew. He always knew.

“A few days,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

His grip on your forehead tightened slightly. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. “I didn’t want to bother you. You have so much to worry about.”

He sighed, a sound of weary exasperation. “Y/N…" He took your hand in his, his thumb stroking the back of your palm. "You are never a bother. Ever. Do you understand?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “But…”

“No buts,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “Come with me.”

He led you back to your cabin, carefully helping you onto the bunk. He didn’t say anything as he peeled off your clammy clothes and wrapped you in a fresh blanket. He worked with a practiced efficiency, his movements precise and gentle.

He summoned Bepo, who scurried off to fetch a basin of cool water and some clean cloths. Law sat beside you, dipping the cloth in the water and gently dabbing your forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked again, his voice softer this time.

Your voice was hoarse. “I was scared.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and something else, something that made your heart flutter despite the throbbing in your head.

“Scared of what?”

“That you’d be angry,” you whispered. “That I’d be a burden.”

He shook his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead. “You could never be a burden, Y/N. And I could never be angry at you for being sick.”

He continued to bathe your forehead in silence, his touch soothing and comforting. You closed your eyes, letting the cool water and his presence wash over you.

“From now on,” he said softly, after a long silence, “no more secrets. Not from me. Understand?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

“I understand,” you whispered.

The next few days were a blur of fever dreams and Law’s unwavering care. He made you herbal teas, insisted on you resting, and even managed to coax a few bites of bland food past your protesting stomach.

The crew tiptoed around the cabin, whispering their well wishes and leaving small gifts – a rare orange, a hand-knitted scarf, a crudely drawn get-well card from Bepo.

Slowly, the fever began to break. The throbbing in your head subsided, and the nausea faded. You started to feel like yourself again, a little weak perhaps, but alive.

One evening, as you sat propped up in bed, reading a worn paperback, Law entered the cabin. He carried a tray with a steaming mug and a plate of crackers.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Much better, thank you," you replied, offering a tentative smile. "I'm almost back to normal."

He placed the tray on the small table beside your bed. "Good. I was starting to miss your sharp wit and irritating questions."

You chuckled, a genuine sound this time. "Irritating questions? You're just jealous of my superior intellect."

He smirked, a rare and precious sight. "Of course. That must be it." He leaned back against the wall, watching you as you sipped your tea. The silence that followed was comfortable, a familiar rhythm between you.

"Law," you began hesitantly, "I wanted to thank you. For everything."

He raised an eyebrow. "There's no need. I just did what anyone would have done."

You shook your head. "No, you went above and beyond. You could have left it to the others, but you didn't. You took care of me. And I... I really appreciate it."

He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer. "Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious, "you're important to me."

Your heart leaped in your chest. "I –"

He cut you off, continuing before you could overthink and ruin the moment. "You're smart, resourceful, and you have this infuriating way of always knowing exactly what to say to piss me off, but also... to make me laugh. You bring a unique perspective to the crew. You challenge me."

He paused, his eyes searching yours. "And," he swallowed hard, "you're… kind of… essential to me."

You stared at him, speechless. Essential? Was he… could he possibly…

He seemed to realize what he had said, the implications of his words hitting him like a tidal wave. His cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair.

"I… I didn’t mean to say that," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"You didn't?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked back at you, his gaze intense. "Well, I mean… I did. But… I didn't mean to say it like that. It just sort of… came out." He was a mess, a far cry from the stoic, collected captain you knew him to be.

You couldn't help but laugh, a nervous, shaky sound. "So, you're saying you didn't intend to accidentally confess your… whatever this is, to me, while I'm still recovering from a fever?"

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "This is a disaster."

You reached out and took his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. "Hey," you said softly, "it's okay. It's more than okay."

He looked up, his eyes filled with doubt and a glimmer of hope. "It is?"

You squeezed his hand. "Yes, Law. It is. Because… I feel the same way."

His eyes widened. "You… you do?"

You nodded, your heart soaring. "I do. I have for a long time."

A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features. It was the most genuine, unguarded smile you had ever seen. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear.

"Then maybe," he whispered, "this accidental confession wasn't such a disaster after all."

He leaned in closer, and you closed your eyes, anticipation flooding your senses. His lips brushed against yours, a tentative, feather-light touch. It was a promise, a beginning.

The door to the cabin slid open with a bang, and Penguin's head popped in. "Captain! We've spotted–" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the scene. "Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

Law pulled away, his cheeks flushing again. "Yes, Penguin. You are."

Penguin backed out of the cabin, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and amusement. "Right. Carry on, then. I'll just… tell the others to steer clear." He disappeared, leaving you and Law alone once more.

You both burst out laughing, the tension finally dissipating. The world outside your tiny cabin seemed to fade away, leaving only you and Law, the quiet hum of the Polar Tang, and the undeniable spark of something new, something real, igniting between you.

The fever might have been a curse, but it had inadvertently led to a cure for a different kind of ailment, one you had both been suffering from in silence for far too long.

And maybe, just maybe, accidental confessions were the best kind. . . .

[imgonnafuckthetriangle]

Remember, its not too late to learn. For anyone looking for a place to start, I recommend the CRAP acronym:

Currency - When is this information from? While there are some subjects like history where it makes sense to use older sources, for most issues, it's extremely important that you're using up to date information.

Reliability - Is this source able to back up its information? Look for citations and links to other resources. There should be at least some indication of where the info is coming from. Keep an eye out for simple mistakes like spelling and grammar errors, as well as sentences that don't quite make sense. In the age of AI, this is perhaps more important than ever - AI can and will make things up, and many people are using AI to make their websites. I don't generally consider information trustworthy unless I can find multiple reliable sources saying the same thing.

Authority - Who is the author of the work and are they an authority on the subject? Anyone can talk about anything, so make sure that you can find evidence to back up their expertise. People often overestimate their own knowledge, so people can spread misinformation without even meaning to. So it's important to make sure that you're getting your information from someone who is qualified to talk about that subject.

Purpose/POV - Why is the author writing this? What is it they're hoping you'll do with this information? What are their biases? This allows you to spot propaganda and other manipulation. I'll use an example from my own life. I have fibromyalgia, and I've done a lot of research into how fibromgalgia affects sleep. When I search for information about that, a lot of the results are from mattress companies. They have an obvious bias here - they want me to buy a mattress, so they have a vested interest in convincing me that a good mattress can fix my sleep. Therefore, they can't be considered an unbiased source on the issue.

Obviously, there's a lot more to media literacy than just what I've written above. But the CRAP acronym is a good start.

I cannot stress the importance of paying attention in language classes in high school. Maybe the reason why your English teacher taught you about unreliable narrators is because a lot of the media around you is written by unreliable narrators posing as reliable. Maybe they gave you assignments on interpreting texts so you could draw your own conclusions about news articles. Some of you clearly thought English classes were useless in high school and now are unable to engage critically with media.

[connorsui]

UNLIMITED ACCESS!

This was wonderfully requested by my beloved @madam8 who gave me such a beautiful idea for a sylus date and I couldn't let go of it until I completed it 😭😭🩷🩷 like it's so cute that even when I was studying I kept thinking of new ways to end the fic or new scenes to add into it. --- it was ...AAUGH- my heart ...tho I do apologize for how long this one took out ur girl was busy trying not to fail classes 💀💀 ...lol 💅🏻

p.s if you see my corpse surrounded by flowers anywhere you can blame it on this ask ✨️ I LOVE IT

It started, as most things with Sylus did, with...

extravagance.

He had a habit of planning nights that felt more like events—private rooftops overlooking the shimmering city skyline, candlelit dinners in places that required reservations months in advance, evenings where the very sky seemed to bend to his will.

Luxurious. Impeccable. Always grand.

And while you loved those moments—loved him—there was something else you had been craving lately.

Something... simpler.

So one evening, as he idly twirled a glass of dark liquor between his fingers and casually mentioned taking you to a private villa on an island, you leaned into his space, resting your chin on your palm, and asked—

"Why don’t we do something more…plain? Just for the day—I mean."

Sylus stilled slightly, red eyes flickering toward you, waiting.

"Don’t get me wrong, I love our dates," you continued, "but I think it’d be nice to just do something fun. Silly, even. Maybe a little childish?"

A playful smile curled at your lips.

"Just… something where you don’t have to rent out an entire skyline to impress me."

He raised a brow, surprised. "You wish for something plain?"

You grinned. "Exactly. So let’s just have a normal date. Like—oh! What about an amusement park? Or an arcade? Or the fair!"

Sylus exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down with a measured movement. "Your ideas are enjoyable… I wouldn't mind indulging in them."

"Yeah! It’ll be fun, I promise. We can see what rides you like, if you’ll actually tolerate roller coasters, or if you’re one of those people who insists they’re too predictable." You smirked. "Oh, and you have to try winning me something from one of those carnival games."

He regarded you with that ever-neutral gaze, quiet and considering, before finally murmuring—

"For you, I wouldn’t mind fulfilling that request."

You smiled, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek, already excited for whatever simple, carefree date he would plan.

Or so you thought.

Because somehow—somehow—things escalated.

Instead of just buying tickets like a normal person, Sylus had decided the best course of action was to…

Buy. The. Entire. Damn. Park.

Your favorite amusement park, to be exact.

And now here you stood at the entrance, staring up at the massive sign that should have been buzzing with families, groups of friends, and screaming children running past in excitement.

Instead, it was silent.

The ticket booths? Closed. The parking lot? Void of life.

The only people here were you, Sylus, and the staff, who stood patiently, waiting only for the two of you.

You turned to him slowly, your brain still buffering.

"Sylus… I—when I said I wanted a fun day with you… this isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

Sylus, as usual, looked completely unbothered. "Did I get the wrong park?"

You blinked. "…No, but—Sylus, what—" You gestured at the empty surroundings, struggling to form a coherent thought. "You didn’t have to—How did you even do this?"

He tilted his head, as if you had asked a genuinely confusing question. "I bought it."

You took a deep breath. "No, I know that, but why?"

Sylus blinked at you, expression calm yet calculating, like he was trying to gauge whether you were actually upset.

"Would you prefer a different one? I can acquire another if this one isn’t to your liking."

You choked. "Acquire—Sylus, I meant let’s just have a normal day at the park! With other people! Like… buying tickets, not—not monopolizing an entire amusement park for us!"

He hummed thoughtfully. "That would be inconvenient. I don’t like crowds."

Your brain short-circuited. "Okay, fair, but I’m not even sure how to react to this." You ran a hand down your face, staring at the vast, empty park. "Do I just… accept this? Should I ask you to sell it back? Is it even going to open to normal people when we're not here?"

Sylus exhaled softly, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His red eyes, sharp yet steady, held an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"I wanted you to have the best experience," he murmured, his voice low, deliberate—like he was peeling back the layers of his thoughts just for you. "No interruptions. No strangers ruining our time. No one else pulling your attention away."

His thumb ghosted along your jaw, his touch as careful as it was possessive.

"I wanted today to be ours. Every moment, every ride, every second—only for us."

Your heart squeezed at the weight of his words.

Sylus was always confident, always in control—but this was different. This wasn’t about power or extravagance.

This was about ...you.

He had done this for you.

Damn him.

Damn him and his ability to turn something so ridiculous into something that made your heart melt.

You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temples before looking up at him again. "You really don’t do things halfway, huh?"

His lips twitched, almost smirking. "Would you expect anything less?"

You huffed, shaking your head. "Not at all."

His hand slipped from your chin to your wrist, fingers curling around it as he tugged you toward the entrance.

"Then let’s stop worrying about it and enjoy it as much as we can."

You let him pull you forward, your brain still catching up to the fact that this was happening. That you were about to experience an amusement park that was literally all yours for the day.

And honestly?

You weren’t going to complain.

But as you walked in, something felt... strange.

The park was…alive?

Despite the complete absence of other guests, the workers were still here—acting as if today was a completely normal day.

Vendors stood at their booths, flipping burgers, making cotton candy, lining up pretzels under warming lamps. The game stalls were manned, workers casually leaning against counters, ready to hand out prizes.

The park’s parade performers were still marching down the street. A princess in a poofy dress waved at you. Mascot characters moved in synchronized greetings, despite the fact that no one was here but you.

It was… surreal.

Sylus squeezed your hand as you slowed to take it all in. "I told them to proceed as usual. It would’ve been eerie if everything was frozen."

You turned to him. "So… it’s like the park is still running, but we’re the only ones who get to experience it?"

He nodded. "Yes. Don’t you think it’s better this way?"

You inhaled deeply, looking around again.

Sylus watched you carefully, his sharp eyes scanning your face. "Are you alright?"

You hesitated, then let out a quiet laugh.

“Of course! I mean—” You hesitated again, glancing around as your expression softened. “It’s nothing wrong, I promise! I love that you did this, I do, but…” You exhaled, running a hand through your hair before looking up at him again.

“I just—I wanted this day to be special not just for us entirely, but to have a moment together surrounded by everyone and everything.” Your voice was gentle, thoughtful. “The chatter, the energy, the crowds moving past us. The chaos of it all.”

You shrugged, a little sheepish. “I know you don’t like being around too many people, and I love that you wanted to make this day perfect for me, but part of what makes an amusement park so special is the shared experience, y’know? That feeling of being one in a sea of people, laughing together, screaming on rides, getting bumped into by kids running past, standing too close in lines because there's no choice…”

Your words trailed off as you searched his gaze, unsure how he’d react.

For a moment, Sylus didn’t say anything. His red eyes remained locked onto yours, unreadable, but there was something contemplative in the way his fingers idly traced over your knuckles, as if considering your words carefully.

Then, finally, he exhaled through his nose—slow and measured, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“…I see...I- ” His voice was as calm as ever, but there was a shift in his tone.

He glanced around, taking in the completely empty pathways, the stalls with no customers, the parade performing for no one but you two. The sight of the workers, stationed and waiting, but missing the usual life of the park.

Sylus was pragmatic. He saw a problem, he solved it. Simple. To him, the best way to ensure you had an amazing day was to remove all obstacles—the crowds, the noise, the inconvenience of waiting in lines or dealing with other people.

But now, as he watched you, something seemed to click.

“…Would you like me to open the park?”

Your eyes widened. “Wait—you mean, like, right now?”

He nodded once. “If it would make you happy.”

Your heart stuttered. "Sylus—I didn’t say all that just to guilt you into—”

He raised a brow. “It’s not about guilt. You wanted to share this moment with people and I took that possibility from you” He pulled out his phone as if he could undo an entire park shutdown with a single call—which, knowing him, he probably could.

You stared at him, then let out a disbelieving laugh, reaching to stop his hand before he could dial. “Okay, hold on, let’s think about this rationally—”

Sylus merely looked at you, waiting for what you were bound to say next.

You exhaled, lacing your fingers with his properly. “Look, it’s okay. I love what you did, and I will enjoy this day with you.” You squeezed his hand. “I just needed a moment to process it, that’s all.”

Sylus was silent for a moment, his red eyes scanning your face as if committing every little twitch of emotion to memory. Then, his gaze flickered past you, landing on a nearby booth.

A teddy bear stand.

Without a word, he turned, gently tugging you along by the hand.

You blinked in surprise. “Wait—where are we—?”

He stopped in front of the booth, staring at the rows of stuffed bears lined up in varying sizes, from tiny keychains to ones nearly as tall as you. His jaw was set, unreadable, but his grip around your hand was firm.

“Sylus?” You tilted your head at him, watching as he eyed the game—a classic ring toss setup.

“I failed to give you what you really wanted,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You should at least receive something in return.”

Your chest tightened at the way he said it.

Soft, but laced with frustration.

Like he was genuinely bothered that his attempt to make you happy had missed the mark.

“Sylus…” You squeezed his hand, stepping closer. “You don’t have to win me anything—”

He ignored that, already rolling up his sleeves with practiced ease. His focus was entirely on the game now, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the distance, the weight of the rings stacked beside the booth’s attendant.

Your lips parted in disbelief.

Sylus said nothing, simply holding his hand out for the rings. The worker—completely unphased, as if watching an overpowered, absurdly rich man win rigged carnival games was just another part of the job—wordlessly handed them over.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "Sylus, you really don’t have to—”

The first ring landed perfectly on the bottle.

Your mouth snapped shut.

Another.

And another.

Without missing a single shot.

The worker gave a small, almost-impressed nod. “Pick your prize.”

Sylus turned to you, expectant.

You stared between him and the game, caught between laughter and disbelief. “This your way of an apology gift?

“And would that change anything if I said yes?”

“Sylus –”

You huffed, shaking your head before pointing to one of the bigger teddy bears—one with a white soft, plush face and an oversized red ribbon around its neck.

Sylus retrieved it without hesitation, turning to face you fully as he held it out.

“ you sure you didn't have me in mind? ” he said simply.

You giggled at him, your fingers curling around the soft fabric as you accepted the gift. “mayyybee”

It wasn’t about the bear. It wasn’t about the game.

It was him.

Sylus, who never half-assed anything. Who overthought in ways you weren’t always aware of. Who, despite his arrogance, still hated feeling like he had let you down.

Your heart squeezed painfully.

“…You’re too much at times” you murmured, hugging the teddy bear to your chest.

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Says the one getting emotional over a stuffed animal.”

You shot him a playful glare, but when he reached out, brushing his fingers against your wrist, you softened.

“....Still,Thank you, for everything-- I mean” you murmured.

Sylus didn’t say anything, but his grip lingered—just for a second—not thinking of letting you go.

But as you continued walking, you caught the way his fingers brushed against his phone once more, a brief flicker of thought crossing his expression.

You narrowed your eyes. “Sylus.”

“Hm?”

“You’re not secretly opening the park back up again ….behind my back…are you?”

His lips curled, amused. “...perhaps”

[arxiwon]

Husband!Sunghoon, the cool yet secretly hopeless romantic˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

Husband!Sunghoon The type to act cool but gets jealous so easily. You’re laughing at someone’s joke? He won’t say anything, just suddenly hold your waist a little tighter or kiss your cheek out of nowhere. If you tease him about it? “What? Can’t I kiss my wife?”

Husband!Sunghoon Loves when you play with his hair but pretends it’s no big deal. He’ll be sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone, but the second you start running your fingers through his hair? He melts instantly, eyes closing, completely relaxed.

Husband!Sunghoon Subtly checks up on you throughout the day. If you’re at home, he’ll pass by and ask, “You good?” before continuing whatever he was doing. If he’s away, you’ll get simple texts like, “How’s your day?” and “Did you eat?” (If you don’t respond fast enough, expect a call.)

Husband!Sunghoon Pouts when he wants attention but won’t ask for it. He’ll sit next to you, arms crossed, looking at you every few minutes, waiting for you to notice him. When you finally ask, “What’s wrong?” he’ll just mumble, “Nothing…” but then immediately pull you into a hug.

Husband!Sunghoon Always acts like he doesn’t care about couple traditions but secretly does. Anniversary? He’ll act like he forgot, only to surprise you with something incredibly thoughtful. Your birthday? He’ll act all casual, but you’ll wake up to a perfectly planned surprise.

Husband!Sunghoon Gets competitive when you compliment someone else. “That actor is so handsome.” He’ll immediately scoff and say, “I look better.” And if you tease him? He’ll sulk for at least 10 minutes.

Husband!Sunghoon Loves coming home to you. No matter how tired he is, the moment he steps inside and sees you, his entire demeanor softens. His first stop is always you—dropping his bags, pulling you into a hug, and sighing contently like he’s finally home.

Husband!Sunghoon Never lets you carry heavy things. Grocery bags? Your suitcase? Nope. He’ll take them from you, no questions asked. If you insist on carrying something, he’ll just say, “That’s my job.”

Husband!Sunghoon Steals your skincare products. But he’ll deny it every time. “Why does my moisturizer keep running out?” “No idea.” Meanwhile, his skin is looking flawless.

Husband!Sunghoon Loves listening to you talk. No matter how small or random, he genuinely enjoys hearing you ramble. Even if he’s tired, he’ll hum in response, letting you know he’s still listening.

Husband!Sunghoon Finds ways to stay close to you, even in public. He may not be overly clingy, but his hand will always be on your back, or he’ll pull you closer if he sees a crowd. If you’re in a long line, he’ll stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist.

Husband!Sunghoon Stubborn but soft when it comes to you. If anyone else asks him to do something, he might complain. But if you ask? He’ll sigh dramatically but do it anyway. “You owe me for this.” (He just wants more hugs.)

Husband!Sunghoon Low-key a romantic. Will randomly take you on late-night drives just to spend quiet time together. Will buy your favorite snacks just because. Will pull you in for slow dances in the living room with no music.

Husband!Sunghoon Acts cool but melts when you initiate affection. You hold his hand first? He’ll pretend it’s nothing, but his grip tightens. You kiss his cheek? He clears his throat and looks away—but his ears are red.

Husband!Sunghoon Wants to be your comfort person. If you’re sad, he won’t always know what to say, but he’ll pull you into his arms and stay with you for as long as you need. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me stay like this.”

Husband!Sunghoon No matter what, he’s yours. His words might be minimal, but his actions say everything. He may not always be vocal, but the way he looks at you—like you’re the only person in the world—tells you exactly how much he loves you.

Sunghoon may act all cool, but when it comes to you, he’s just the biggest softie.

Husband!Sunghoon is the definition of cool on the outside, hopelessly in love on the inside. He acts unbothered but secretly adores all the little things about you—whether it's watching you wear his hoodies, playing with his hair, or rambling about your day. He won’t say much, but his actions speak louder than words: warming up your food if you're late, pulling you closer in public, and always making sure you're taken care of. Though he pretends to dislike cheesy couple traditions, he’s the first to plan thoughtful surprises and steal forehead kisses when you least expect it. He gets flustered when you compliment him, secretly loves cuddling (even though he’ll never admit it), and has a soft spot for lazy Sundays spent wrapped up in you. Protective, attentive, and low-key romantic—he might act cool, but at the end of the day, his heart is completely yours.

[ariahmichelle]

Fake It Till You Feel it - Part 1

Rafe Cameron x Reader Series

Series Masterlist Here

Summary- You see your ex with a new girl wrapped around him after he told you “wasn’t ready for a relationship” after you had slowly started to fall for him. The betrayal stings. Rafe Cameron is dealing with his own issue—Amelia, a girl who refuses to take the hint that he’s not interested. One night you impulsively pretend to be Rafe’s girlfriend to get her to back off. To your surprise, it works. You also notice Alex looking pissed. This starts to become an unspoken routine between you when either Alex or Amelia are around. Simple right? However, longer this goes on, the more the lines blur between what’s real and what’s not.

••••••••••••••••••••• •••••••••••••••••••••••

Part 1- The Beginning of a Game

The party at Topper’s house was in full swing. The air was thick with the scent of salt, sweat, and the faint smokiness of a bonfire burning somewhere in the distance. Music pulsed through the backyard, blending with the sound of drunken laughter and the occasional splash from someone jumping into the pool. It was one of those nights that felt endless, where the heat of the summer clung to your skin and time blurred between drinks and conversations.

And yet, despite the crowd, despite the energy, you felt frozen in place.

Your stomach twisted as your eyes locked onto the scene in front of you. Alex. With someone new.

He sat on the outdoor couch, drink in hand, his head tipped back in laughter at something the girl beside him had said. She was pretty—of course she was. Long sun-kissed legs, a perfectly put-together outfit that screamed effortless, and a confidence that made it obvious she had no doubts about where she stood with him. Unlike you. Unlike the way you had felt when you were with him—always wondering if you were reading too much into things, if his sweet words meant something more, if the way he looked at you held the same depth as the way you looked at him.

Turns out, it hadn’t.

Because when you’d finally worked up the courage to ask where you stood, to ask if he wanted more, Alex had fed you the same tired line you’d heard before: I’m not ready for a relationship.

And yet, here he was. Looking very ready.

Your grip tightened around the plastic cup in your hand, the cheap liquor inside suddenly making your stomach churn. It wasn’t that you wanted him back—you didn’t. But seeing him move on so easily, so carelessly, like what you had meant nothing… it stung. Worse than you wanted to admit.

You tore your gaze away, exhaling sharply, forcing yourself to shake it off. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to you. You were better than that.

“You look like you’re about two seconds away from throwing that drink at someone’s head.”

The familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to find Rafe Cameron standing beside you, his usual cocky smirk in place. He was nursing a beer, looking effortlessly relaxed in a white button-down left undone just enough to hint at a tan and toned chest. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times, and his blue eyes flickered with amusement as he studied you.

You rolled your eyes, attempting to play it off. “Just enjoying the party.”

“Yeah?” Rafe took a sip of his beer, raising an eyebrow. “Because you look like you’re mentally plotting someone’s downfall.”

You scoffed. “If I was, you’d be the first to know.”

“Good to know,” he mused, tilting his head as he followed your previous line of sight. It didn’t take him long to spot Alex, and when he did, something in his expression shifted—just a flicker of understanding before the smirk returned. “Ah. Got it.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “There’s nothing to get.”

“Sure.” Rafe dragged the word out, clearly not buying it.

You huffed, looking away. The last thing you wanted was to talk about Alex with Rafe Cameron, of all people. You and Rafe had always been… something between friends and playful antagonists. He was cocky, irritating, and had a habit of pushing your buttons just to see how far he could go. But he was also fun. Easy to talk to when he wanted to be. And right now, his presence was a distraction you desperately needed.

But before you could steer the conversation elsewhere, an all-too-familiar voice cut through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

“Raaaafe!”

You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

Amelia.

The girl had been attached to Rafe like a leech ever since they’d hooked up at a party months ago. And despite Rafe making it clear he wasn’t interested in anything more, Amelia refused to take the hint. She always found a way to be near him, touching his arm, laughing too loudly at his jokes, batting her lashes in a way that might have been charming if it weren’t so painfully desperate.

Sure enough, when you glanced over, Amelia was already making her way toward Rafe, her blonde curls bouncing, her expression expectant.

Rafe let out a quiet groan, running a hand over his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You smirked. “Looks like she found you.”

“She always does.” He glanced at you then, something calculating flashing in his gaze. And just like that, an idea struck. A terrible, impulsive, reckless idea.

“Want some help?” you asked casually, swirling the liquid in your cup.

Rafe gave you a wary look. “Help how?”

You turned toward him fully, standing just a little closer. Close enough that if someone were looking—if Amelia were looking—it would seem like something was going on between you two.

“Play along,” you murmured just as Amelia reached you both.

You didn’t give him time to question it. Instead, you turned to face him, resting a hand on his chest like it was second nature. “Ye babe,” you said, voice just loud enough for Amelia to hear. “I definitely think we should go on that trip.”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard for only a second before he caught on. A slow smirk spread across his lips. “Sure baby,” he drawled, slipping an arm around your waist. “Just you and me.”

You barely had time to process the way his hand rested against the small of your back before Amelia’s face twisted into shock. “Wait… you two are—?”

“Together?” Rafe finished, pulling you even closer. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”

You bit back a grin as Amelia’s eyes darted between the two of you, disbelief and irritation warring in her expression. It was almost too easy.

“Oh,” she said after a moment, clearly struggling to process. “I just… I didn’t realize. You never said anything.”

Rafe shrugged. “Didn’t think I needed to.”

You leaned into him slightly, playing with the fabric of his shirt. “We’ve been keeping things low-key,” you added smoothly. “But, you know, kind of hard now that everyone’s starting to notice.”

Amelia looked like she had just bitten into something sour. “Right. Well… I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, sounding almost bored now. “Anyway, we were kind of in the middle of something, so…”

Amelia hesitated, looking like she wanted to argue, but for once, she seemed to realize there was no point. With a forced smile, she nodded. “Of course. I’ll… see you later.”

The second she walked away, you exhaled, stepping back slightly. “Well. That was fun.”

Rafe chuckled, dropping his arm from your waist but not moving far. “Not bad, princess. You almost had me convinced.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny the small thrill running through you. Maybe it was just the game of it, the ease in which you’d both fallen into the act. Or maybe it was the way you had caught sight of Alex from across the party—his jaw clenched, his eyes burning into the back of Rafe’s head.

Interesting.

“Maybe we should keep this up,” you mused, glancing at Rafe. “You get Amelia off your back, and… well, let’s just say Alex didn’t look too happy just now.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering. Then, slowly, he grinned.

“Let the games begin, then.”

——————————

Let me know what you think! Are you ready for part 2?

[deadinthefanfics]

Housewardens x a reader who has selective mutism (platonic)

A/n: Hello this is my first time doing this I will try my best the reader is gender neutral in these headcanons ^_^

Riddle Rosehearts

☆) Riddle was honestly surprised on first meeting you. He was expecting to get someone on the immature side or likely the calm yet still manages to get themselves into chaos no matter what.

☆) When he tries to have an interaction with you seeing that you either whisper or mutter and he asks you to speak up you feel like shrinking away into a black hole. He never understood why it was so hard for you to not talk. Yeah speaking is such a simple action but he didn't know the reasoning behind you.

☆) After the overblot and realizing that it's really hard for you to talk no matter how much you try it's hard for you to do. He became more empathetic for you. But since you were out of trouble he liked you.

☆) He would likely help you when you are called on he would say the answer for you so you wouldn't have to say it.

☆) He also likes to walk and talk with you during passing periods and you get to listen along to him, even if you didn't say it in your words he could tell you didn't mind him by your facial expressions and your hand gestures. ☆) He also probably sets up your own formal language when it comes to unbirthday parties as such tapping your cup for more tea or tapping a certain part of your plate saying that you want more of a sweet.

Leona Kingscholar

☆) He honest didn't mind when you didn't speak that much. But if you are in any situation where you need help, he's here for you when you absolutely need it.

☆) He will maybe also lay on you or let you sit next to him since you are quiet and not bothering him when he sleeps.

☆) He will tease you when you are comfortable with him jabbing snarky jokes at you most common one he will use on you was "cat's got your tongue?"

☆) He will feel accomplished when you make a slight giggle or chuckle at his jokes when he makes them

☆) Will make anyone shut up if they try to bother you to speak or force you out of your comfort zone.

Azul Ashengrotto

☆) When he first met you he thought you were a spy since you stood awkwardly and it stood out from everyone else speaking so loudly. Or plotting against his schemes of forming contracts.

☆) When he found out you were nonverbal he formed more ideas for the monstro lounge since if they catered to regular people why not the quiet people? Or the introverts?

☆) Gives you a special pass so you can go into the quieter places when you needed to. While also gets advice from you on how to cater to the quieter people in which now they have to pay for the pass.

☆) Business is getting bigger since now they accommodate to the quiet side of NRC.

☆) When you do actually speak to him he feels a sense of pride that he build up a good relationship to speak.

Kalim Al-Asim

☆) When he first met you he was a bit surprised when you literally almost ran away when he spotted you. But you didn't and tried to be brave and you stayed and let him talk to you.

☆) When he found out you had trouble speaking he asks Jamil for help on how to talk to people like you.. In which now he knows how to talk to the shy people without scaring them away!

☆) Will buy your favorite things use that to your advantage since he is very nice.../j

☆) Passes you notes when he is bored and wants to have a conversation with you.

☆) He would be excited when you finally talk to him like as if a kid got the gift they wanted on their birthday and makes it KNOWN he is proud of you for finally talking.

Vil Schoenheit

☆) When at first Vil met you by just you accidentally bumping into each other and he apologizes in a bit of a mean way for bumping into you. But when he noticed that you were trying to form an apology he saw you now as "Idia Shroud 2.0"

☆) Does the same thing as Riddle asking you to speak up but to be more confident in yourself. But also does kind of understand why you were to be quiet but he doesn't really force you to do anything much.

☆) Vil will definitely provide you communication cards he custom designed at hand for you to communicate with the others.

☆) He would also likely make you his mannequin make you try on clothes for him. Since you are as silent as one so you would at least make a good acquaintance for him. ☆) When you finally talk to him he gets very proud like a father when you speak for the first time to him. Even if it were a little it still meant a lot to him.

Idia Shroud

☆) Idia would honestly not care that much he is just glad you are nice to him and you manage to surprisingly get him to open up about his interests and everything.

☆) I feel like whenever you actually talk even if its like muttering or the smallest whisper when he is like paying attention to a game he would get jumpy thinking it is someone else is in the room when its just you.

☆) Idia would allow you to borrow his tablet on rare ocassions when you do need to give out presentations or public speaking so you wouldn't feel the anxiety so much when speaking.

☆) Idia would allow you to be in his room as well and just let you watch him game and probably allow you to mess around with a few of his stuff.

☆) Idia would just allow you in his close circle in general as close as Ortho because of how awkward you are around people and seeing he is the same level as you he would be more delight talking to you.

Malleus Draconia

☆) He finds you very interesting. A child of man that has anxiety of speaking? He never seen one before let alone in person.

☆) He does like to be around you and try to ask you questions by giving you something to write on so that you can answer his questions.

☆) Would probably pat your head or rub your back when you feel anxious, or even more so hug you and would maybe never let go.

☆) Will smite down anyone who bothers you or makes you anxious. ☆) He will find it comforting since he also doesn't speak and someone of same nature could lead to good bonding.

Psst hey! My requests are open (^o^)

[strnilolover]

✰ can’t wait until we get home?

warnings : smut. fingering (f receiving). semi-public (?). in a car, while driving. slight dirty talk. slight degrading. praising. intended lowercase. i think that’s all.

you and matt had been out all day.

running errands for his brothers and doing things that were needed for his personal project as well as the groups merch line—and you were happy enough to tag along. but, as the day dragged on, you couldn't help but get slightly pouty at the fact you couldn't have your boyfriend's attention all of the time.

so, when you had finally gotten back into his car from stopping at the warehouse, you had sunk into your seat after buckling yourself in—closing your eyes as the rays from the sun poured in through the glass window.

it didn't take long until he put the car into reverse, pulling out of the parking lot and already heading toward the road to the next destination.

the car fell into a comfortable silence. the speakers playing whatever song that was on shuffle on matts phone. his hand rested on your thigh, fingers tapping on your skin to the beat of the song, while the other gripped the steering wheel as he focused on the road.

after a while, matts hand started running up and down your thigh softly—did he know he was doing it?—you weren't sure. but the action made you shift in your seat, trying not to press your thighs together as heat began to grow between them, trying to ignore it.

it's not like you meant to get turned on from the simple action—but you hardly got any attention today, and now it was as if your body was screaming for it. screaming for matt to just do something.

you must've not been very subtle in your movements, because as you went to shift again—matts grip tightened slightly on your thigh. he caught your movement out of the corner of his eye, flicking his gaze to you briefly before returning to the road. "is something wrong sweetheart?" he asked, his tone sweet.

your head turned in his direction, swallowing at his sudden words, shaking your head in response. but he wasn't really buying it. "mm, i don't know." he mused, shifting in his own seat. "you keep squirming. is there something on your mind?"

you sat there for a moment, quietly. but then his hand gave your thigh another squeeze and you stuck your bottom lip out, pouting. "i don't know, i just—" you sighed, giving into the urge to press your thighs together, trapping his hand before pulling them apart again. "you haven't really given me attention today..or touched me." you mumbled.

the tiny smirk that had formed on matts face at some point faded, his features softening more. "oh, baby." he murmured, his voice warm and reassuring. "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to make you feel neglected." his thumb stroked gentle circles against your skin, eyes flicking between you and the road. "you know i'd never ignore my girl on purpose, right?"

you nodded your head, your body instinctively trying to move closer to his—but the consol between you two only made you move so far. "i know..i just—want you." you whispered. matt smiled, his hand pulling your legs a little further apart. "i know, baby. got yourself all wound up huh? can't wait until we get home" he cooed, and you couldn't help but whimper at the way he was speaking.

you shook your head, shifting in your seat once more. "no, i need you now. please." you begged, your body now almost turned fully in his direction. but your seatbelt dug into you uncomfortably. matt exhaled a breath, as if he was contemplating something before he finally spoke. "take 'em off."

and your breathing stilled. "w-what?"

matts hand squeezed your thigh a little rougher. "you heard me, sweetheart. take 'em off. and your underwear too." his voice became lower, like their was no room for argument—but there was. he wouldn't continue if you showed signs of being uncomfortable with the idea. but you weren't. "i'm gonna help you." he said, pulling his hand away.

you sat there for a moment, processing his words. but before your brain could react, your hands were already moving. quickly, you unbuckled your seatbelt before moving your hands to grasp at the waistband of both your bottoms and your underwear. you started to tug them down your legs the best you could in the confined space.

you gasped as the air made contact with your wet center, making your legs close on their own. matt chuckled, reaching his hand back over to slide between your thighs, pulling them apart. "c'mon baby, turn yourself towards me and spread your pretty legs, yeah?" he encouraged, retracting his hand once more.

you whined at the loss of contact but turned your body the best you could in your seat, your back resting against the car door. spreading your legs, you brought them up to your chest slightly, so you were on full display for him.

you were so glad he had tinted windows.

as the car rolled up to a red light, stopping, matt turned his attention to you—making sure to still look at the road. he groaned at the sight of you, your wet glistening folds all on display just for him. he smirked, bringing his right hand out to let his fingers trail near your aching pussy, but not touching you in the way you wanted.

a frustrated whine left your lips as he repeated his actions, your hips shifting toward his touch, hoping to finally get what you wanted. "matt, please—i need you." you whimpered, voice laced with lust. matt hummed, still tracing his fingers on the insides of your thighs—teasing you. "look at how wet she is for me." he muttered, finally bringing his fingers down to swipe through your arousal before pulling away again.

your frustration began to grow more, your mouth opening to protest once more, but quickly two of his fingers plunged into you as his head turned away—the car moving once more.

a loud moan slipped from your lips, your walls squeezing his fingers at the relief that began to run through you. your head tipped back, eye fluttering shut as matt began to pump his fingers rather quickly. "look at you baby. takin' my fingers so fucking well." he said, the wet squelching noises filling the car along with your moans had his cock straining against his jeans. but this wasn't about him—this was about you.

his eyes continued to flick between the road and you, watching the way you greedily sucked him in. matt cursed under his breath, curling his fingers, hitting a particular spot that had you squealing. "i was so mean wasn't i, sweetheart? not touching you and giving you the attention you deserved." he cooed, continuing to curl his fingers. all you could do was nod, a small 'yes' pushing past your lips.

your body was on fire, the rapid movements of his fingers had you seeing stars. this is what you needed—him. his attention.

your hand reached out, grasping at your seat as your eyes opened and flicked down. matts fingers were covered in your arousal, your juices running down at how wet you were. the sight had you moaning again, bringing your other hand down to rub tight circles on your bundle of nerves.

it was getting harder for matt to focus on the road, his gaze wanting to just stare at you the whole time. "doing sooo good, pretty." matts breath was heavy, his hips absentmindedly shifting up, causing his foot to press on the gas pedal a little more. the sudden jerk of the car accelerating made matt snap back into focus.

your stomach tightened, walls fluttering around his digits even more. "matt..p-please, don't—don't stop." you moaned, your hips now grinding up to meet his fingers each time they moved in you. you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening more, so close to the edge.

"y'gonna cum baby? c'mon make a mess all over my fingers, been so good, so patient—you deserve it sweetheart." and that was all you needed to push you over the edge. your fingers circled your clit faster, hips jerking up as the hand that gripped the seat came down to grip at matts forearm.

a loud, almost pornographic moan slipped past your lips as your release coated matts hand and fingers, rushing out of you and down the underside of your thighs. matt wanted to stare, to watch you come undone for him—but he knew he needed to watch the road. but you were squeezing his fingers so tight, almost like you were milking his cock, which sent his mind spiraling.

his fingers slowed, moving at a languid pace to help you through your high. your body slumping more in the seat as your breaths came in heavy pants. once you seemed to come to, he slipped his fingers free and you whine at the loss of contact. but as the high fades away, you begin to realize just how sore your legs were now from having them folded for so long.

taking a deep breath, you unfold your body—fixing yourself in your seat and reaching to grab your underwear and bottoms slipping them back on.

you take a quick glance at matt, noticing his reddened face, his fingers still glistening with your release. and you smirked, moving to lean over the center, your fingers wrapping around his wrist and bringing the digits to your mouth—sucking your own juices off.

matt sucked in a harsh breath as you pulled away with a *pop*. beginning to lean your self down. "let me repay you baby..” you whispered, your hand coming down to grab at his zipper. but before you could tug it down, his hand shot down and grabbed your wrist.

a confused look crossed your face, brows furrowing as you sat back in your seat—looking at him as he just interlocked his fingers with yours. "theres no need." he muttered, and your confusion only grew more until your eyes flicked down to his lap, noticing the fabric a little dark where his dick is at.

and you smiled, opening your mouth to say something about the dark patch on his jeans. but matt cut you off before you could get anything out of your mouth.

"don't. we're going home, so i can take care of you properly. okay?" he said, turning his head to you briefly to watch your head nod, before returning his focus to the road. already redirecting his route to head back home.

a/n : so this is hot and there might be a few typos but i’m too lazy to fix them rn. also i’m going to grind and work on my valentines things tomorrow!

[cheshireliam]

Kagari Amagase 1st Birthday Campaign: Story

His POV Story

"I Want The Princess"

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

I stood on the battlefield, washed off the blood and headed to my secondary residence.  

…

The instant I stepped inside, I collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Like always, I felt lightheaded and couldn’t think straight.

However, the book laying on my desk caught my eye.

The cover of the book was decorated with a rose motif, a flower rare in Kogyoku. 

I crawled closer to the book and reached for it.

When I opened the cover, a piece of paper with text written in the Princess’ penmanship fell out and landed on my face.  

Those were various detailed annotations about the book’s contents. 

A pure desire to enjoy the book came right to me.

(My birthday…)

(It was my first time.)

…

Nobleman: Happy birthday, Prince Kagari. I wish you a joyful and prosperous year ahead.

Kagari: Oh. 

This year too, there was a snaking line of people outside the castle for my birthday. 

I received countless birthday greetings, but I didn't know the appropriate response to them. 

(Everything is different from when I was still part of the royal family. There are so many things I don’t understand.)

Back in the day, my birthdays were simple, ending with a congratulatory speech from the King. 

My older brother had countless people celebrating his birthday and even had a banquet held for him, but that wasn't the case for me — his younger brother. 

No one ever doubted it because the difference between me and my older brother, who possessed remarkable capabilities that made everyone around have high expectations for him, was like night and day.

(But… thinking about it now, I wish I’d at least gotten one dorayaki.)

(... Hm?)

At the very end of the line — a familiar figure was standing under a cherry blossom tree in the distance. 

My body moved on its own before I even realised it. 

Kagari: You’re wide open, Princess. 

The Princess reacted exaggeratingly in surprise. I put a hand over her mouth and dragged her into the shade.

Emma: Mmph…! 

I pinned her struggling body against a tree trunk before closing the distance between us to avoid drawing the attention of the people nearby.

(She’s still as weak as ever, like she could die any moment.) 

Kagari: Do you promise to behave?

I took my hand off her mouth and she nodded.

Emma: … What are you doing here, Prince Kagari?

Kagari: I saw you.

Emma: So you came to see me?

Kagari: You called me here.

(Maybe.)

Her fidgeting near the line must mean she wants to see me, right? 

Kagari: If you were planning to join the line, don’t bother.

Kagari: It won’t end until nightfall.

Emma: That long…?

Kagari: There’s a banquet tonight. That’ll go on till dawn. 

Kagari: So, why are you here?

The Princess’ eyes darted around awkwardly.

It was suspicious behaviour, she looked very uneasy, as though she was hiding something she wanted to say.

Emma: … Um… there were so many people gathered, and I got curious…

She hid the bag she was holding behind her back.

Given today’s occasion and the Princess’ personality, the answer is obvious.

(She’s hesitant to celebrate my birthday.) 

(Is this really something to agonise about?)

(... I don’t really get it, but this is fine.)

(It doesn't matter whether I receive birthday greetings or not…)

(But spending my birthday with her might actually be more enjoyable.)

(I’ll take her along for the customary inspection.)

…

Dressed as one of the Yasha’s subordinates, the Princess pointed an imitation sword at the assassins. 

I couldn’t help but be secretly impressed as I watched from atop a roof.

(She’s gotten more used to things compared to when she first arrived in Kogyoku.)

(Even though it’s only an imitation sword, she’s learnt how to point one at others.) 

(With that amount of guts, she’ll have no problem surviving in Kogyoku. Full marks for her.) 

(Also… the clothes my subordinates wear really suit her.)

I stared absentmindedly at her exposed nape, where her hair was tied up in a single knot.)

(I remember Matias saying something about this before.)

(“The nape, usually hidden by her hair, is the most valuable”.)

At that time, I thought he was purely spouting weird nonsense, but I understand now. 

(It’s so slender, I feel like biting it— wait, what? Why do I want to bite it?

(No idea. I’ll ask Matias next time.)

(If this is something that requires some brains, I’ll ask Azel.) 

While I was lost in thought, the assassin placed their hands on the hilt of their swords. 

Before they could unsheath their swords ever so slightly, I jumped down and swung my sheathed sword. 

The impact was solid, and all the assassins’ eyes rolled back as they fell unconscious. 

Had I drawn my sword, their heads would have flown off their shoulders. 

(Weak.)

Kagari: That was easy. I hoped they’d at least be good enough for me to draw my sword.

As I turned around feeling disappointed, the Princess was in the midst of sheathing the imitation sword.

Before the blade fully went into the scabbard, I moved closer and held her slender hand. 

Kagari: Princess, you need to adjust the angle of your stance. 

Emma: I see…

Kagari: Also, never hunch your back on a battlefield.

Emma: I never noticed I was doing that.

Kagari: Exactly. Even though you’re dressed like one of my subordinates, you’re weak.

Emma: … I’m sorry. 

Cat: Nyaa… 

While I was guiding her for future use, I heard a meowing sound coming from next to my feet. 

It was the stray cat I had an undesirable, yet inseparable relationship with. 

Kagari: Ah, give me a minute.

I folded a piece of paper with instructions on how to deal with the men lying on the ground and handed it to the cat. 

It gave a delighted meow as it took the paper in its mouth and scurried off. 

Emma: What was that…?

Kagari: Calico No.1.

Kagari: It often roams the streets. So if you ever need to contact me, you can count on it for that.

Emma: So instead of a carrier pigeon… you have a carrier cat.

Kagari: Yeah. 

(This guy’s more temperamental than a pigeon, though.)

Emma: About the piece of paper you gave it earlier on…

Kagari: I summoned my subordinates. It’s a hassle to clean up this mess. 

I stood up and looked down at the amateurish assassins lying on the ground. 

The Princess looked eager for an explanation, almost to the point she was getting restless. 

(They’re no more significant than random passersby, but…) 

Kagari: This is a “gift” I receive on my birthday every year, amidst the celebrations. 

Kagari: I was looking forward to a more challenging opponent, but I got disappointed this year too.

The Princess frowned at my blunt response.

(Is she angry?)

(Weird. It doesn't even concern her.)

(Maybe this is something “strange” to the Princess?)

(When you come from a different place, what’s common and what’s not changes. That's interesting.)

(What’s common knowledge to me, might not be so common to her.) 

…

Night fell as usual, and it was time for the banquet.

Savouring the enjoyable time we had together, I parted ways with the Princess. 

Soon after, the ever so hardworking Calico No.1 came with a letter in its mouth.

…

I went to the cherry blossom tree where I sometimes admired the flowers with the Princess, and the sender of that letter looked clearly pleased to see me. 

Feeling comforted by her reaction, I sat down next to her under the tree. 

Emma: Has the banquet ended?

Kagari: Not yet.

Emma: You managed to slip away.

Kagari: Your summon is more important.

Cat: Nyaa 

(Is it asking for a reward?)

I gently petted the cat that had been nuzzling itself against my leg and it left like it was never there. 

Heartless cat. 

(Right now, the Princess is more important than Calico No.1.)

Kagari: You changed your clothes.

Emma: Yes, I wanted to meet you as my usual self.

Emma: If I’m going to celebrate your birthday, I want to do it as the version of me you met in Kogyoku.  

Kagari: … 

(Is this what she meant when she said she “wanted some of my time after the banquet”?)

Emma: Happy birthday, Prince Kagari.

The Princess, who had been hesitant about wishing me a happy birthday this morning, presented me with a cherry blossom-patterned package.

I accepted the package, unwrapped it, and took out what was insides

Kagari: A book? 

Emma: It’s a storybook from Rhodolite. 

(It’s my first time receiving a book as a birthday gift. I’m feeling uneasy.)

Kogyoku’s Yasha was thought by others to only wield swords and never read books. 

But in truth, I don’t dislike reading. 

Emma: You’ve taught me many wonderful things about Kogyoku. 

Emma: It’s thrilling to discover new things about the world that I’ve never known before, so…

Emma: I chose this book because I want you to experience that thrill too. It’s one of my favourites. 

Emma: … And, if possible, I thought it might help convey Rhodolite’s charm too…

Kagari: The book is set in Rhodolite?

Emma: That’s right! It’s a collection of heartwarming short stories.

Emma: It’s the perfect remedy for when you’re feeling worn out.

Kagari: I almost forgot you’re a book merchant.

(I thought it’s just like any other book, but this one’s carefully chosen by the Princess.)

Knowing the amount of thought put into the gift made it much more significant. 

Kagari: You’re probably the only one who’d think of giving me a book. 

(I’ve decided. I’ll make this a family heirloom.)

I stared at the cover, flipped through the pages, and briefly scanned through the text. 

It doesn't seem like I’ll be running into any trouble if I end up with too much free time for a while. 

Emma: … I’m relieved I could properly celebrate your birthday. 

I looked up when she suddenly spoke.

The Princess heaved a sigh of relief, like she had been holding her breath for a while. 

Kagari: You’re overthinking it. I’d never find it bothersome to be celebrated. 

Emma: But your detached reaction to all the greetings and gifts made me rather worried that you would. 

Kagari: … Did I come off that way?

(I didn't realise. No wonder the Princess hesitated.)

I closed the book and lowered my gaze. 

Kagari: It’s not that I dislike being celebrated, or that I’m uninterested in birthdays.

Kagari: It’s just… I still don’t know what I should be feeling when I’m being celebrated.

Kagari: It’s been a recent problem for me.

Never had I ever imagined that not having extravagant birthday celebrations like my older brother did would someday become a source of my troubles. 

(Receiving a celebration particularly from her is complicated.)

(... I feel restless, and it’s hard to even look her in the eyes.)

(Is this the correct feeling I should be getting? What kind of emotion is this?) 

As I sat there in silence, full of uncertainty, a gentle breeze blew. 

Petals from the cherry blossom tree that was in bloom all year round danced in the air and fluttered down. 

The Princess, whose attention had been constantly focused on the Yasha until now, suddenly turned her gaze toward the cherry blossoms.

Emma: It’s beautiful. 

(…)

The restlessness turned into something murky. 

(... Not going to look at me anymore?)

(You’re so heartless.)

I grabbed a fistful of the Princess’ skirt. 

It was a spontaneous gesture. 

Emma: Prince Kagari?

(Why must I lose her to some cherry blossoms?)

Kagari: You’ve been thinking about my birthday all day long, and now you’re completely mesmerised by cherry blossoms? 

Emma: Of course I’m still thinking about your birthday. 

Emma: I just think that it looks as though the cherry blossoms are celebrating too… 

Kagari: Just you celebrating it is enough. Don’t look away. 

For some reason, the Princess reacted to my vent with a gentle smile. 

Kagari: … What are you smiling about?

Emma: It’s nothing. 

(I’m curious… but this doesn't feel so bad.)

I felt my facial expression soften, and the Princess turned her gaze to the cherry blossoms once again.

My grip on the fabric of her skirt tightened. 

Emma: … I planned to only give you your gift, but we ended up talking for quite a while.

Emma: Shouldn’t you return to the banquet soon, Prince Kagari?

Kagari: …

(I don't want to.)

(I want her to celebrate my birthday, more than the banquet.) 

(But somehow, even though they’re all celebrations, something feels different.)

I retraced the day’s events, recalling each and every one of the Princess’ words and trying to pinpoint the cause of my restlessness. 

(If there is a difference… it’d be that everyone else’s celebrations are nothing more than mere formalities.)

(You could say they have ulterior motives, wanting to gain the Yasha’s favour and protection.)

(But the Princess’ celebration doesn't have any of that.) 

(... This is the first time I’m receiving a sincere birthday celebration.)

Kagari: Princess, don’t you want to keep the Yasha all to yourself?

Emma: I think I’ve already monopolised you enough. 

(It’s not enough.)

(... I want more)

Kagari: … Stay here.

Emma: Then… I’ll take you up on the offer.

Emma: Can I continue celebrating your birthday for a little while longer? 

Kagari: Yeah. 

Hearing the word “celebrate” from her lips made me restless again. 

(Could this restless feeling be… bashfulness?) 

(... Am I actually feeling bashful because she’s celebrating my birthday?) 

(That’s a first. I learned something new today.)

Kagari: If you want to celebrate, do it. I can’t guarantee I’ll make it to my next birthday.

Emma: … I don't like such jokes.

Kagari: I’m not joking. But rest assured that I want you to celebrate my birthday over and over again.

(It’d be nice if there’ll be a “next”.) 

(... I want to feel bashful again. I want to experience this feeling even more.)

(I want to get to know this restlessness better.)

(When I’m with her… my emotions come alive.)

…

When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by darkness.

(... Did I fall asleep?)

As I regained consciousness, I realised I was holding a book in my arms.

I heard a faint sound of gentle breathing coming from next to me.

I shifted my gaze in its direction to see Calico No.1 laying there with its belly facing up, looking completely defenseless.

(It's getting better at hiding its presence and becoming more shameless too.)

(Who exactly does that remind me of?)

Careful not to wake Calico No.1, I picked up the book and opened it while laying down. 

Even though I had already finished it and remembered its contents, my eyes didn't stop following the text.

The stories were set in a peaceful country called Rhodolite. 

The Princess, born in that kind of country, was honest, straightforward, and her existence dazzling bright. 

(That makes sense.)

On my birthday — when I received those empty, soulless birthday greetings from the crowd, the Princess looked like she couldn't stand it any longer and took my hand.

Under the cherry blossom tree, her smile was like a flower in full bloom and she celebrated the Yasha’s birthday genuinely from the heart.

(She has a beautiful heart.)

(And yet, she unhesitatingly held these hands of mine that have been stained with blood of the people I’ve killed and even gave me her blessings.)

(Ah…)

(... I want the Princess).

(But I don't understand why I want her.)

(Will I understand it if she becomes mine, just like this book?)

I sat up and closed the book.

Although the battle was over and my body was supposedly back to its usual state, my head started feeling fuzzy again. 

That sensation worsened when an image of the Princess’ face emerged in my mind. 

Despite knowing my symptoms were worsening, my hands refused to let go of the book. 

I couldn’t peel my eyes off it.

It was as though I was clinging onto it.

(I want to see her.)

(I want to see the Princess.)

[crooked-wasteland]

I've seen your tweet which criticizes the worldbuilding in Helluva Boss and how the Goetias feel like "Hollywood with royal titles" rather than true aristocracy, and I would like you to elaborate on that, if that's OK.

Thank you so much for this ask as I never got to expand on this point at the time. For those not in the know, the user is referencing this exchange on Twitter.

As much as the elites of our world would like to disperse the truth, the reality is that all societies are constructed around power. Who has power, how and why. That is the fundamental basis of every social dynamic from children on a playground to the politicians in our governments. So the very first thing we should even approach in regards to the narrative is how does power work in this universe?

So when I responded to Elcee in the tweet being referenced, I am evaluating power and power structures. Mainly there are two wholly different constructs of power between something like the aristocracy and celebrities.

The closest thing to an aristocracy we have in our modern day are the financial oligarchs of Capitalism. Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, etc. They have control everything from how our political parties engage with us to how we think based on the wealth they were born into. They curate our lives behind the scenes in ways that sound worthy of a tinfoil hat, but isn't a conspiracy. The wealthy were threatened in the 1970s by an educated proletariate. In response to our questioning the Vietnam war, the higher education that was once free or at least extremely affordable suddenly became prohibitively expensive.

So much so that only the financial aristocracy could access it. Whereas working class individuals are forced to jump through hoops and prove themselves suitably subservient to the existing power of the oligarchy in the form of scholarship applications, teacher recommendations and application letters before being granted access. This is not a mistake or how it's always been, this is by design.

Meanwhile, Celebrities are not elites. While we think of celebrities as being overpaid and living in luxury, it only takes a glance over at Chappell Roan to see the difference. When Jeff Bezos or Elon Musk or any large corporate CEO walks the red carpet, they are treated as royalty. When celebrities walk the red carpet, they are commodities.

Celebrity is the modern day face of the American Dream. Gone are the days of a single family home and a white picket fence. The boom of content over art, luxury over practicality, and excess over comfort is directly the result of selling to the world the idea of capitalistic success, which just amounts to perpetuating the system of turning humans into money. And for as much money as these celebrities make, it has been proven over and over again that they are just as susceptible to poverty as any other working class individual.

Celebrities are products we buy, and when we stop buying them, they vanish.

Meanwhile the aristocracy, the financial oligarchy, thrives in obscurity.

The difference in power is about who still has it when we no longer see them. And the more invisible and pervasive it is, the more real it is. However one as an individual thinks about the celebrity class, they are simple a different type of specialized tool to the true power behind the scenes.

With that differential in mind, the Goetia function more like celebrities rather than CEOs, and while Elcee fails to see the bigger picture, that subliminally tells the audience that someone with the title of prince, with armies sworn to his allegiance and infinite cosmic power, is no different than a working class joe.

This isn't intentional propaganda, however. It's not her trying to further the agendas of Jeff Bezos intentionally. Just like my other post covering how Medrano tries to excuse cheating, not realizing the only time one can argue such a blanket concept of forgiveness for such a betrayal can only happen when the option of choice is non-existent (ie Divorce is not on the table for reasons outside of the characters’ choices), this is the danger of not engaging with media with your mind turned on. You will innately, no matter how careful someone tries to be, engage with the material through the eyes of the creator.

Celebrities and average people are the same: commodities in the face of real power. But Medrano cannot tell the difference between someone like Elon Musk and his employees. She sees the aristocracy, the ones who were born into a legacy of wealth, as “hardworking average folks”. And if you aren't thinking, you might find yourself implicitly believing that too. Deeper entrenching the power they have over you as an individual and society as a whole.

How we got to where we are in our real lives is mirrored in the media we consume. And that isn't an accident.

[aceofwhump]

Do you have some Neal Caffrey fic recs?

Oh my god so many, nonny. So many. There's 76 fics on my masterlist doc if you want to check that out but I'll add a few of my absolute favorite ones on here. Here ya go:

The Weather Outside Is Frightful by OnYourMark Summary: A blizzard traps the White Collar team at Peter and Elizabeth's place. The good news: everyone's safe, warm, and well fed. The bad news? Neal's spiking a fever, and in this weather there's no way he's getting to a hospital...

Blinding White by Raelin Dex Summary: Tag for episode "As You Were". What if Van Horn had been a better shot? What if the dress Whites of Neal's uniform hadn't come out quite so white? Alternate ending fic.

Hanging On by DJDangerLove Summary: An undercover operation ends up going over a ledge, a seven story ledge and Neal's left dangling. One-shot. No Slash.

Distracted When I Spike The Punch by TJ-TeeJay Summary: A migraine, a reception, punch that was spiked. A potentially hazardous combination for some, certainly a dangerous combination for Neal Caffrey. PG-13, Gen.

A Harder Sell by dusty violet Summary: An extended/alternate/perhaps more realistic scene. Spoilers for Hard Sell.

Three Kinds of Hell by TJ-TeeJay Summary: With Peter incapacitated, Neal is assigned a temporary new handler. Running through the city and spending evenings at various hospitals starts taking its toll on Neal. PG-13, Gen.

The Couch by DjDangerLove Summary: "Neal loves Peter and Elizabeth's couch. Sure, it is soft and warm, but that isn't the real reason he finds comfort in it. No, the Burke's couch makes him feel safe and secure." NO SLASH!

Arsenic and Old Lace by IsmayDeVain Summary: Take one teaspoon of crazy, plus two teaspoons of worried Peter, and one giant helping of Neal whump and what do you get? A one shot that will keep you in suspense! Hold on, readers, it's going to be a bumpy ride!

Neal Caffrey's Type of Miracle by RascalFlattsS Summary: “What if she takes a shot at Neal?” AU for Book of Hours. What if things had gone differently at the buy? MAJOR SPOILERS! You’ve been warned. Neal/Peter friendship. No slash.

Blizzard Conditions by stan_of_many Summary: “Diana looked over at the CI who sat shivering in the chair, cheeks flushed with fever yet far too pale everywhere else. “He really doesn’t look good.” Neal didn’t even take mock offense but began coughing—hard. Peter made an aborted gesture toward him, clearly unsure what to do. He looked over at Diana, hiding a worried expression that the Junior agent knew too well to be fooled...” Even simple illnesses can become dangerous if help isn’t available. The White Collar team gets stuck at the FBI offices during a blizzard and Neal is quickly becoming dangerously ill...

Loaned Away by stan_of_many Summary: “Peter frowned slightly, realizing that Neal hadn’t spoken since Ruiz had practically dragged him in by his collar. Usually he’d be making about five different excuses for why nothing could possibly ever be his fault and cheekily denying every accusation. As it was, he stood silent.” Neal gets loaned to Organized Crime for the day and Peter shows how to really care for a CI when he sees the bruises.

[red-cicada]

Some random traits i want to give my Herbert ( also guys some of these things are also just my hcs that just started to become my own ideas lol ) 1- Herbert has blood sugar issues, i just think it makes sense that you know he doesn't eat well, he's autistic so he also doesn't register when he is hungry, and when he does eat he tends to eat the quickest most efficient meals. this leads him to developing blood sugar issues and has to often deal with migraines, Shakey hands, and nose bleeds. He keeps pieces of hard candy ( like little caramel candies ) on him because its the quickest, easiest, and effect way to spike up his sugar when its low. Instead of stopping his work to go get some juice or something he just reaches into his pocket or his bag and eats a few candies quickly without disrupting his work.

2- He keeps one of those glasses clothes on him all the time in his little shirt pocket, where he keeps his pens and stuff he got one of em lil square fabrics in there. I have a specific shot in my head where he's like all bloodied and he goes to get the glasses cleaner from his pocket and its all just soaked with blood and he just defeatedly throws it to the ground lol.

3- the reason why Herbert wears suits all the time because he came from a rich family, so growing up he always had to look proper which was wearing fitted, dress close, dress shoes, button ups, ties, coats ect: So its become routine for him to always dress in that type of clothing, its a comfort, sensory, and consistent pattern thing. ( he also wears brand clothing because that's just what he's used too, but he also does NOT give a shit about it, he doesn't buy brand names cause they are expensive he buys them cause that's just what he's used too )

4- post beyond timeline, some of Herbert's traits change, he acts differently, his schedules are different, some things he used to be picky about ( clothing, food, ect:) he isn't as picky with, he's also a lot cleaner after getting out of prison, his work flow and space will be drastically different. ( I have some comic ideas for future danbert projects with this )

Also just so you guys know, while this stuff is for my own version of reanimator it also applies to Stuart Gordon's reanimator cause all of this started as simple hcs for danbert that just got out of hand and i HAD to make my own lol.

they should make a show like Hannibal but for re-animator, and they should let me direct and write and also let me play Herbert West

[tricoloreddango]

Yandere Phainon sabotaging reader’s relationship

contents: gaslighting / gender neutral reader / mention of the death of the readers’s cat/ word count: 1k

The relationship you had with your boyfriend might not have been the most exciting, but you thought of it as satisfying enough… just the fact it let you live a stable and predictable life was enough to be comforting and not leave you lonely. Your relationship hasn’t started a long time ago, but you assumed it was going into a right direction.

However, Phainon wasn’t having it. He’s been consistently trying to prove it to you that you have settled down just for a bare minimum or has been bringing up things that (in his humble opinion) were red flags. This wasn’t any different when you invited Phainon over for tea.

He looked around the kitchen, noticing a spill of coffee beans on the counter. “Is this his mess?”

You nodded. “Yes, I’m sure he’d clean it any other day. He just had to leave early for work,” you shrugged. You decided to change the topic, before Phainon would start telling you how you shouldn’t have to clean up after your own boyfriend. It was an innocent mistake from him, as he usually did his share of work. Phainon would still probably say something along the lines of “Even if, this is just the beginning—”

“He bought me flowers today,” you bragged to your visitor, sounding happy—not expecting your friend to soon make you lose that feeling. “What flowers did he give you?” he asked curious, smiling for your enthusiasm. “Roses,” you responded.

Suddenly, your friend looked disappointed, killing your smile. “Roses? Look, it’s nice he got you flowers. But aren’t peonies your favorite flowers?”

“Yes, but… he still didn’t have to give me any outside of occasions,” you muttered.

Phainon disagreed, “No, no. If he was buying them he might as well had picked the ones you like. It means he doesn’t really care about what you want but about what he wants and expects you to be grateful. Roses are so cliche and boring. He’s not romantic in any way.”

The look of uncertainty, wondering if you should believe his words, didn’t discourage Phainon. He was ready to prove you wrong furthermore your conversation. “Well… I can always tell him that. I’m sure he’ll understand and will make sure to get me the right ones the next time? He just didn’t know my favorite.” You smiled encouragingly, hoping your friend will agree.

He didn’t. He was ready to debunk your claim. “You really think he’ll listen? If he cared, he’d have asked you about your likes first. Also, don’t you remember when you asked to help you fix a tap? He didn’t,” he said with a slight disgust.

“Yes, but he was tired! He promised me he’d do it tomorrow, I just managed to do it before him,” your voice was now frustrated. Why was he so not understanding?

“I doubt that. You had to ask him to not tighten jar lids multiple times before he eventually had stopped, or had to ask him to stop putting jars on a shelf too high for you. He clearly doesn’t care about your boundaries. Don’t you remember his reaction? You said he raised his voice at you, didn’t you?” he said with worry.

“Right, but it’s because I asked him when he was busy and I wouldn’t stop interrupting—”

“My friend,” Phainon put a hand on your shoulder, his face all soft and apologetic you had to deal with such a bad man. “Even if busy, a right boyfriend wouldn’t raise his voice, as it signals anger issues if he’s snapping at something so simple. He would have remembered to not tighten lids in the first place, and be considerate of you having less strength or you being shorter. A boyfriend who cares is the boyfriend who knows you well.”

Phainon’s words were getting to you slowly, making you have second thoughts. What if you were naive and didn’t notice signs? You trusted Phainon, he’s never given you a reason to sabotage your happiness, so surely there must be some truth to his words… which doesn’t mean hearing it all was easy. You felt self conscious at the idea of letting yourself end up in such a bad relationship or being used. Tears blurrier your vision, threatening to fall.

“But… when I ended up losing my cat, he was there to comfort me! He definitely cares! He listened to me and did things for me so I could rest! He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t!”

Phainon shook his head gently, making his voice more serious, “He was using affection to get you attached in your vulnerable moments. That has to be true, considering he normally doesn’t show you much affection? He even acts all distant.”

“He’s just not that comfortable with being vulnerable, cause he had a difficult childhood! He still gets adjusted to opening up to me but we’re getting there!” you protested, but your efforts were starting to feel useless in your perspective. Phainon might really be right—if he didn’t mind easily showing you affection during your sad day, why wouldn’t he do so any other time?

“Emotionally unavailable people don’t change. They make relationships one sided! Aren’t you tired of making yourself vulnerable while he doesn’t give you anything in return?” he scolded gently, pulling you into his arms when you were finally crying. You didn’t protest, letting him rub your back. Phainon has never let you down, unlike your boyfriend, apparently. “I think you just want to ‘fix’ him. Yet this isn’t your role. You should find someone who makes you happy, rather than someone that you have to be responsible for! Relationship should make your life easier, not burdening. You have to say so many ‘buts’ to defend him; that should be enough concerning,” he added, his voice made cashmere to comfort you.

He felt all joy and relief when you ended up nodding into his chest. He’ll gladly show you what a boyfriend model should be, as no way in any universe he’d let you be with someone else. Phainon wholeheartedly believed that only he was meant for you, and that you can be the happiest with him only—he may as well be your soulmate.

Didn’t he know your needs the most? You could ask him what he thinks you’ve eaten yesterday and he’d have no problem guessing. You weren’t aware of the extent of his knowledge about you.

[patrick-bateperson]

I feel like a big part of Helena's idea to bring the snow seal to Irving is because that's how she's always been told innies are controlled. The innies have absolutely nothing but the clothes their outies walk in with and their workspaces, so lumon throws them little 'perks' like fingertraps and deviled eggs, and that (plus threats of the breakroom) is enough to motivate them to work. So Helena thinks that she can make a little trinket for Irving, and he'll be so charmed and grateful that he'll put aside his suspicions. She thinks they're simple and easy to buy and doesn't understand the depth of their love for each other (the only thing they have)

[semipreciousgemstonejade]

A great point that is touched upon here is that ultimately this is a company and we are consumers. Like this post says, if we continue to pour our time and money into this game when they continue to push these predatory practices, they will only become worse.

I've said on the subreddit many times that what they're doing with Sylus affects every player, since we're all playing the same game. How does it make sense to paywall one and not the others? It doesn't. They absolutely will start doing that with the other characters and that process has already begun.

This isn't their only game, so this isn't their only revenue stream. They are also creating a AAA game for console, Ballad of Antara.

All this to say that they can afford to treat their consumers better. Why don't companies ever understand that the more they understand the target demographic and better they treat the consumer, the more money we will spend? People want high quality in exchange for brand loyalty.

Always remember how much power we hold... There is a reason that women are a target demographic for marketing strategies and not just for fashion and makeup. We aren't a monolith.

In simple terms, it’s because marketers think women are making most buying decisions. Research cited by Forbes suggests that women drive 70-80% of consumer purchasing decisions (source: Forbes), and more detailed research by Girl Power Marketing shows that this influence isn’t limited to the clichéd trifecta of household goods, cosmetics and clothes that modern media has taught us to associate with female shopping behaviour. (Source: Girlpower Marketing).

In total, experts think that women control over $31.8 trillion of worldwide spending (Source: Catalyst). And when you look at statistics like that, it's easy to see how a lot of marketers fall into the trap of assuming that they'll meet success if they start targeting women.

While there is some truth to the idea that women are household managers and the key decision makers in many business organisations, there's also an equally strong body of research to show that they are much more discerning than their male counterparts when it comes to engaging with digital marketing material.

https://www.redevolution.com/blog/why-do-marketers-target-females

The last part is a warning... We won't just continue to spend our money willy nilly. We will take our money elsewhere. There is talk of competition in the future...

I've seen a lot of the suggestions people have given in their surveys and honestly we're telling them how to make this game more engaging for us. If only they would listen. But as my mother says, "those who can't hear must feel". And since money talks, I guess hurting their revenue is the only way they'll understand.

Ultimately we all want this game to succeed, but not at our expense and using predatory practices.

And always remember, we give Papergames and Infold free marketing with all the things we write, draw, our video edits, YouTubers and social media accounts etc... Not to mention all the cool and extravagant things the CN whales do that promotes the game. Of course, no one asks anyone to do any of this, but it adds to the success of the game by bringing in more players.

No matter what I choose to do in the end — to pull or not to pull 😔 — I will, in solidarity with the CN kittens and the ongoing boycott, refrain from pulling within the first 3 days. I'll only log in on the first day and choose Sylus as my precise wish. That's it. And I will absolutely not spend real money. I have 0 plans to ever do so until Paperfold course corrects.

If you too wish to help with the boycott, then I urge you to do the same. You can still get the card you desire ofc but please wait until after 3 days or at least 24 hours have passed in that case.

For more info on the boycott, please check my pinned post or my hashtag justice for sylus. You can also take a look at this Reddit thread .

[ronearoundblindly]

Ohhh Valentine's who would! Who would write you a love letter/ be your secret admirer?

eee, so cute! (Warnings for language because Lloyd is on this list all the time.)

James Mace

Though he keeps them basic, simple, short and sweet, Mace absolutely writes love notes. If you aren't already dating, he'd be the deepest of secret admirers, meaning you would get lovely gifts and things but never know who he was. Mace strikes me as the "hopelessly in love with his best friend" type. He's around to make sure his gifts are appreciated, stops if they aren't, and also escalates if you seem super interested 🥰.

Curtis Everett

Definitely a secret-admirer type but not really a letter writer. Curtis also keeps it simple. He prefers 'gifts' that make your day easier, so he coordinates more tedious tasks be done (if you work together) or does stuff like pay for your drink ahead of you in line at the café. Little things like that rather than deliveries of chocolates and flowers.

Jimmy Dobyne

Old school and old fashioned, Jimmy will write you the occasional letter. It's meaningful but not gushy. He's honest about how happy you make him and descriptive of your best times together. Every so often flowers or candy don't seem like enough, usually after hard times or big events. Valentine's as a holiday...doesn't really count.

Johnny Storm

Nah. If he likes you, you'll know, and if he can just text or call, he ain't writing shit on paper.

Jake Jensen

Digitally? Yes, tons of notes. Bunch of AI/deepfake videos of animals or famous people professing how much he loves you. Most of them are funnier than hell, several have brought you to tears, and I would not put it past him to sneak an intro to a marriage proposal in one...

Lloyd Hansen

He takes great pride in making all the little cards on gifts horrible. "So you smell better" on the perfume he buys you, "eat me and like it" on the chocolates, and, of course, "don't be fucking late" on the dinner invite. On the back it also says "wear something slutty."

Ari Levinson

No letters, sorry. Snail mail reminds him of deployment so he'd rather not. Ari did enough secretive stuff in the military, too, so he'll just openly admire you, thanks.

Ransom Drysdale

He tried once.

He then had to clean up an overflowing bin of wasted papers from shit drafts, and he's never fucking doing that again. He'll take you shopping. Problem solved.

Andy Barber

The only love letters/notes he's written have been in apology for having to miss a date or special occasion due to work. Sorry. I know that sucks, but overall, you'd also rather he spend time actually with you whenever possible instead of running around buying cards and writing notes.

Steve Rogers

They start as letters but end up half full of doodles. One of Steve's favorite subjects to sketch from memory is your profile. Your smile comes in at a close second.

Bucky Barnes

Would so much rather spend the time and effort with you, but if he has to be away (and he can find enough space for himself to quietly focus on it) then he'll write you. Though he's not as well-read or eloquent as Steve, Bucky has the advantage of being slightly dorkier and (deliberately) funnier. His love letters are sweet, spicy, and often hilarious.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[talenlee]

3e: Magical Rings

Rings. Simple circles of metal, worn on the fingers or toes or sometimes in the ears, these delicate pieces of human artistry are some of the earliest examples of creative expression we know can last beyond our lives, and therefore, serve as some of the most iconic examples of the way we use our signifiers to craft narratives of our lives. The promise ring, the engagement ring, the wedding ring, which are of course, all the same thing but companies want us to gild that lily forever, rings serve as a circle present in so many stories to symbolise a bonding, a binding, an eternity that we commit to in our lives and that we can only hold up as long as we continue to believe in that which the ring symbolises. Every ring can be called a ring of power, because it is the belief in stories we imbue in the ring that serves to give it that power.

And as any good item with significance, Dungeons & Dragons decided to start jamming a mechanical system onto them.

This is by no means a new thing for 3rd edition D&D; since earliest versions of the game, I’m sure there were people making ‘magical rings’ important on day dot. This is a game for hacks who want to remind you of the cool fantasy books we’ve read and back when the game was brand new, there really were only so many fantasy books that could be considered cool. Unbelievably, people considered Lord of The Rings one of them, yeah, I know, and apparently, they enjoyed those books and implemented their ideas into their own work. Wild, I know. Point is, it wouldn’t surprise me if D&D’s vision of magical rings predate D&D. What 3rd edition brought, in my experience reading the rulebooks, is a sense of acceleration and omnipresence.

The rules around rings in 3rd edition onwards is that you can wear two rings, and those rings will give you some magical benefit or advantage based on what they’re supposed to do. This is where stacking bonuses tend to rear their head for newer players. After all if you have a Ring of Protection that improves your armour by +1, and you have ten fingers, and those rings are cheap, why not buy a few of them, wear them on different fingers and get a lot better armour? The game saw you coming and instead, the rules limit these bonuses by type and also limits you to one ring per hand.

My time with 2e, towards the end, represent the loot cavalcade that was Baldur’s Gate 2, in which the world is lousy with magical gear which is designed to make it possible to approach a reasonably open world of quests. In this case, you wind up with enough magical rings you just start selling them in sacks, to the point where it can honestly not be worth picking them up in the early game because who’s gunna carry that malarkey? I do not want to pretend that 2ed lacked for this situation. Instead I want to describe the way that 3rd edition brought the idea of Unspecial Rings to everywhere. Almost every resource in the game that players got access to would bring new magical items, new feats, new character options to the board, and with that, you’d see some new rings.

When creating new magical items, the game provided a set of rules that described things that magical items could do, and the general family of effects they could have. Weapons, you might not be surprised, were good at making you better at attacking, and did special things when they hit things. Armour increased your defensive stats and made you better at surviving or enduring things. This could have some interesting side effects, some things that were judged on vibes — like, a trident that meant you could breathe underwater while you had it was probably okay, but it was definitely less okay than a suit of armour that gave you a swim speed and also meant you could breathe underwater. These were all put together by a complicatedly designed set of formulas that tried to price effects based on spells and then on the duration or effect of those spells.

What this meant is that knowing the best spells meant you knew the best ways to break these rules in weird outlier ways. An example that came up commonly was the ‘ring of true strike’ design a lot of players would conceive of, where you would make a ring that cast the spell true strike on use (ie, whenever you attacked). The formula for this implied that as a 1st level spell, cast as a 1st level wizard, this should cost 1x1x2000 gp. Since true strike granted you a +20 to hit on the next attack you meant, this item would obviously trivialising hitting things and that’s pretty nuts.

(Please ignore that a wand of true strike was a level 1 item for 750 gp that would give you this effect for 50 attacks, but only if you were a wizard or a character with the appropriate spell on your list.)

Anyway, the math kicked in at this point and looked for the most expensive way to price the effect. This ‘ring of true strike’ was granting a +20 to hit, and that was priced differently to the 1st level spell that gave it to you, meaning that instead of 2,000 gp, it cost you 20x60x2,000 gp, or 2.4 million gp, which is, uh, a lot more than 2,000. This is because to craft a tohit bonus like that, you needed to be 3 times the level of the bonus, meaning that you needed to find a level 60 wizard who had the time to waste on your nonsense.

Point is that things were examined in terms of their effect and their style. Armour did things that weapons didn’t do. Some weapons could improve your armour class but they needed a good flavour for it — like deflecting something, or blocking hits in melee. Staffs could store spells, wands could store spells but wear out, scrolls could store spells but only once, amulets could protect you in some way like improving a saving throw… and rings…

Rings could do anything.

Where most of the magic items have rules in them that make them hard to use in most situations, or gave them specific types of things they were best at replicating, rings could do anything. Permanent spell effects, on-use spell effects, permanent bonuses, a ring could be a real everythingamajig.

This was such a problem because it meant that even low level rings would wind up being useful, handy even to have around. A ring of sustenance turned off your need for food, for good, so you should probably have one of those for long distance travel. It’s real cheap, after all, and all it takes to swap it off is to swap a ring on a finger. A ring of feather falling could be jammed on a finger while you fell if you were falling far enough. And a ring of jumping could be handy for mobility, and none of these things were particularly expensive (by the standards of an adventurer) by the middle of the game.

The really cracked thing though?

These rings were so good and so worth keeping around in a big keyring for handy applications most of the time because they let non-wizards access all the handy utility stuff wizards had all the time from day 1. When a category of magical item is desireable because it lets you replicate something that the wizard can already do for a fraction of the cost – oh hey, there’s that wands conversation all over again! – you may have a problem class in your game.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!