#i don't care if you like the game. but if you can't see that your favorite media has issues and just ignore them....

[mead-iocre]

Can't Pay the Rent | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: can't pay the rent trend

warnings: none x

word count: 1.1k words

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

You angle the camera, making sure it was just right. Pressing the record button, you quickly shift the flower vase so it was covering most of your phone screen from direct view.

The "telling my partner I can't pay the rent this month" prank.

You've seen this thread floating around tiktok and you've been tempted to try it ever since. It was a silly little trend, harmless, and fun.

And you couldn't wait to try it on your girlfriend.

Straightening your back again, you try to look nonchalant, curling your knee to your chest and leaning back into Leah's side. She was currently laser-focused on the footy on screen. Not a lot can distract Leah Williamson from a game of football, so it gave you enough time to set up the camera without the blonde noticing. There could be a tornado outside and Leah wouldn't notice until the screen turns off because of blackout.

Out of habbit, she raises an arm, curling it around you and snuggling you closer into her side. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she presses a quick kiss to your temple.

You wait a beat, taking the opportunity to stare at the woman beside you. You look at her, entranced by the way the light falls across her profile, kissing the edges of her hair. Blonde locks brush against her cheek as she pushes her hair back, letting out a frustrated huff at whatever is going on on-screen. Blue eyes—so soft, yet sharp with intention. Her clever brain was most likely analysing plays. Her lips, just slightly parted in concentration, are rosy from the amount of times she would bite them.

You catch yourself staring a little too long, pressing your lips together to try and hide your smile. You will yourself to get into character, putting your past manifestations of being a Hollywood actress into fruition. Now was your time to shine.

"Hey, Lee..."

She hums. Her hand comes up from behind you, fingers instinctively running through your hair. She doesn't look at you though. Her eyes are locked on the screen in front.

You poke her side.

Usually, she would catch your finger and playfully bring it up to her mouth to give you a gentle bite, but all she does is shift away from you.

You pout.

Poke.

"Baby, stop. I'm watchin'"

You poke her side again. "I need to talk to you, Leah"

Her face changes immediately after hearing your words. The blonde frowns, eyebrows already furrowing in concern. Surprisingly, she turns her face towards you.

That was quicker than you thought. You thought you needed to poke and prod longer than that. On the inside, you were practically preening at how attentive your lover is. You hoped the camera was catching all of this.

The football was now an afterthought seeing as how she is blindly feels for the remote beside her. She presses the mute button, tossing the remote back on the sofa beside her.

She turns back to you, her face focused.

"Sounds serious," Leah shifts so that her thigh was pressing against you knee. She brings her other hand over, rubbing your leg, all her attention now on you. "You alright, baby?"

"Yeah-- I just--" You pause for dramatics, like how you've seen all the actresses do.

Letting out a big sigh, you press your Summer Friday coated lips together as if you found it very hard to let the next words out.

"I can't pay the rent this month."

For a moment, all your girlfriend does is stare at you. You part your lips, prepared to repeat what you just said in case she did not hear you the first time, but then she speaks

"...the rent?"

You nod, empathetically, as if you were truly troubled by this revelation. "Yeah. I can't pay this month"

Leah just stares at you for a moment. She blinks a few times, the furrow between her eyebrows growing deeper. Her expression was one of genuine bafflement, and if you weren't careful you would've cracked then and there.

"...we don't pay rent? I bought this flat."

Now it was your turn to pretend to look baffled. You exaggerate it slightly, tilting your head to the side. "okay but I still can't pay..."

Suddenly, the blonde turns her entire body towards you, mirroring your position. She takes a deep breath, the one where you know she was about to lecture you about something very important.

"Baby, you have never paid rent," She says slowly, emphasising her words. While a rarity, you still recognised the sight in front of you. Leah was a hundred percent in captain mode right now.

She squeezes your thigh, her eyes crinkle slightly by the corners. Her voice softens, all full of affection, "in your life."

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, she lets out a small chuckle. "I'm surprised you even know the word "rent"'

You fight the urge to smile. It was hard to be serious when Leah had that goofy expression on her face. The one where her eyes are serious, but one corner of her mouth is tilted upwards, as if fighting her own smile.

Schooling your expression, you continue your performance of a lifetime. You push the hand still drawing patterns on your thigh away. "Lee. I'm serious."

"and I'm bein' serious too, princess” Your girlfriend cups your face, squeezing your cheeks into a pout. Her eyes drop to your lips like they always do. "because why would my girl be paying rent, huh?"

"I used to pay our mortgage" She emphasises, sneaking a quick peck on your lips, unable to resist loving on you. "and besides, you cry at the sight of numbers when they're not printed on a receipt"

You sigh, still keeping up the charade. You hoped she didn't notice your twitching lips.

Although Leah was right though, you weren't the best with numbers-- even during school. As far as you were concerned, the only numbers you were concerned about is the number of shopping bags you could fit in the car. "Maybe next month I could--"

"Fuck no." She laughs, bellows more like it. She pulls you to her, throwing herself back on the sofa and pulling you along, so you were essentially on top of her. A very familiar position.

If this continues, the footage might not be allowed for public consumption.

"Baby, I'm not making you pay rent-- ever. The only thing your pretty little head needs to worry about is what bag you're gettin' next" She rolls her eyes playfully at the last bit, but you know she means it.

"besides...you can pay me in other ways"

You raise an eyebrow at her, mirroring the growing smile on her face. You knew exactly what she is implying.

She cradles your cheek, craning her neck up so she could whisper in your ear. "Why don't you go put on that pretty pink set you bought the other day-- with the lace garter and thigh highs..."

Yeah, this video is not getting posted.

oh to be platonic housemates with a hot football player (who also happens to notice when you’re wearing new underwear) x

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[merrinla]

I was confused that after returning from prison of regrets, Rook was immediately dragged to a hub meeting. Turns out that after the prison, your love interest insisted that everyone leave Rook alone and send them to rest. And only then there was a meeting.

Rook: Solas? (?): We're not sure. Probably searching for some way to defeat Elgar'nan. (?): We don't know. Not really. We were so busy looking for you we… lost track. option: It's been two weeks. Rook: I was… what? Two weeks? option: A two-week long day. Rook: Apparently my hard day lasted two weeks. (?): Yes, you were gone two weeks. Which means you need rest, food, and water. (Emmrich?): Yes, my love. Which is why you shouldn't rush out just yet. (?): Enough of this. You need food and rest. We'll talk business later. (Taash?): Yeah. So you need rest. We can talk about the other crap later. Davrin: We'll talk about this later. You need some rest and Assan needs feeding. (?): Everyone please stop. Rook needs rest, and… food, probably… (?): Yeah. A lot happened. But it can wait. Until you've had some rest. (?): Yeah. There's a lot to catch up on. After you rest, anyway. Rook: Thanks, Bellara. Bellara: Of course. I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready. Rook: Lucanis… Lucanis: Go get some sleep before you collapse. If anybody knows how bad that is, it's me. Rook: Taash… Taash: You need rest. I'll make you tea. Do you want ginger or lavender? Rook: Emmrich, I can't… Emmrich: Please. For the sake of one who's missed your company. Rook: Rest? There's so much… (?): There always is. Don't worry. I won't start without you. Rook: I can't rest, there's too much— (?): Who knows you best? Rook: But there's so much to— (?): Please, Rook. For me. option: Then let's all take a break. Rook: Everything you've done, you all deserve a rest as much as I do. option: Not too long Rook: The gods can wait a little while longer. Rook: Not for too long. But fine, I'll go rest. And hey, it's nice of you to care. (?): You're quite welcome. (?): It's good to have you back. (?): I'm so glad we got you back. (?): It didn't feel right with you gone. (?): Rest well, Rook. Davrin: Assan will be happy to see you. (?): Yep. What they said. (?): I'll see you in a bit.

I wonder how the decision was made to remove this content. This is a scene where LI worries and cares about the player's character. No no no, let's cut it!

I mean, if it's in the localization file and translated into 11 languages, then it was most likely already voiced and implemented in the game.

[siri-ike]

Swiftly as with any heist, Damian wrapped a thin cloth around the spirit and held it close to his chest. He was certain it understood how he felt. It had demonstrated as much on numerous occasions. Damian was sure he was right seeing the blob give no hints of a struggle.

Mother showed signs of suspicion during the plain trip. Damian probably could have let a little more distance between him and his bag. But it purred so delicately. He didn't wanna let that go.

"What do you have in there, Damian?" Mother asked, her sweet tone underlined with suspicion.

"Nothing, Mother." He loosened his grip on his bag.

"It's a long flight. Would you not like to put your bag away?"

"I would- how long is it?" He redirected, a scheme brewing in his mind.

"About 13 hours, dear."

"So that's over ten thousand kilometers." Damian grimaced, trying to show discomfort. Playing to Mothers empathy was always a risk. But Damian knew what to look for. His odds were better whenever they were alone, when it's quiet, when she's relaxed, and when he had reason to look small. Everything was lining up in his favor. "Am I ever going to see you again?" And the last step: play to her ego. Make her feel like the center of your world.

But.

"You better not show this sort of weakness in front of your father." Her tone was flat, cold. Shortly, her expression softened. "How about a game to pass the time?"

He must have misjudged. "Sorry, Mother. I'll be more careful." He got up to put the bag behind the seats and walked over to the seat by the table opposite Mother.

For almost 13 hours, they played tafl, checkers, weiqi, mancala, senet, and ludus.

Grandfather says patience is a product of age. He could at least try to wait it out.

● ● ●

This is ridiculous! This time could have been much better spent at home, training. Instead, his sword was all the way in the storage compartment. And he was stuck sitting still FOR. THIR. TEEN. HOURS.

Finally, they made it to the ground. Damian grabbed his bag and got ready to leave in the middle of their game.

When the door opened at last, Damian did not see his father. All he saw was a harbor. "Mother?"

"There's a boat waiting for us, my love." Warm and reassuring.

More waiting‽ Why the theatrics? Can't they just meet him in the batcave? He was patient for 13 hours, and now she wants more from him!

The boat ride was only a few minutes long, and after that, Father found them rather quickly. Then, ofcource Mother had to flirt. Though from what he heard, Father clearly was not interested.

Finally, she opened the curtain he stood behind, and it was his turn. He stepped out and beheld the man standing before him. The best indicator of how he would look in the future. Damian had seen pictures and heard stories, but this was so much more real. Damian was in awe thinking about what could be. What he could be. The range of skills he would now learn from the mysterious Batman.

"Don't be so surprised, Father. I thought you would be taller."

Of course, he couldn't let him know that.

Not much happened in between meeting Father and Damian being shown to his room. Nothing he cared about anyway. At last, it was just him and the spirit. He placed his bag on the bed with care. He reached inside and... where is it? No, no, no. He emptied the bag onto his bed. Weapons, a spare outfit, Ghraybeh and kahk, but no blob.

It wouldn't have left him, would it?

No.

Someone must have taken it.

The Blob

Dpxdc Prompt #20

Danny is a blob ghost now and he's fine with that.

Turns out all blob ghosts are just regular ghosts who have expended to much energy and turn into balls of pure ectoplasm and emotion to recharge.

It's honestly a much needed and much appreciated vacation from all of his responsibilities.

He doesn't understand why he's getting so many worship-fear-cowed emotions from these people, but he's a blob right now, he doesn't have to care.

There's one boy that constantly projects awed-love-infatuated towards him. Danny likes him a lot more than all of the other guys.

In the mean time, Ra's Al Ghul has just found what he believes to be the conscious personification of the Lazarus Pits and there is no way he is going to let any of his assassins offend it. If only he didn't have to worry about his grandson being so enamored with the being as well.

Grandfather never let Damian have any pets.

"Distractions," he would say, "Unnecessary attachments."

Damian disagreed, but he was smart enough not to voice his belief. The Demon Head's word is law and he bows to nobody.

Or at least... nobody until the little blob of sentient Lazarus Water.

Grandfather says that it must be the pits personified and therefore needed to be treated with respect so there would be no chance of them being taken away.

Damian has no problem following this rule, he finds the little blob cute, like the pet Damian would never get to have. When nobody's watching he pets the blob, tells it stories about his day, and stays silent as it does happy little purrs.

In the hell that is Nanba Parbat, the blob is a bright spot in Damian's days.

So obviously when he leaves to meet his Father and claim his right as heir to the Cowl he slips the blob into his go-bag. No one will notice, the blob normally floats around as it wishes, sometimes going missing for hours.

By the time Grandfather realizes the blob has been away too long for it to have been without intervention it will have been too late. No one will suspect that Damian took the blob with him.

At least, that's what Damian tells himself to justify taking the little guy with him. He is comforted by the low hum in his bag, the blob is happy, if no one else.

[cheralith]

slytherin’s prof. michael kaiser, who normally teaches defense against the dark arts, has to sub in for the potions professor who had accidentally ingested some jawbind potion after spilling it on his morning bagel, making him completely incapable of speaking.

it’s nearing valentines day and he’s boredly teaching the fifth years about the seasonal lesson of amortentia, the most powerful love potion known to man, and while many pay a little too much attention to his lecture and gazing upon the bubbling baby pink liquid in his cauldron, he just wants to get this class over with and go back to his regular schedule—especially since he’s also the coach of slytherin’s quidditch team and the highly-awaited slytherin vs ravenclaw game is coming up and he especially is itching to see the absolute look of defeat that’ll succumb not only ravenclaw’s players, but also their coach—you—his long-term academic rival. he needs to train them as much as he can and he can’t meddle any more time in unnecessary things like potions.

“right, so you’ll know it’s ready to be simmered down once you added the rose thorns,” he sighs as he plops in thorn by thorn, the students ooh-ing as a shimmer rides over the potion’s tides in the cauldron. kaiser brings the heat down, watching as the steam slowly coils up into the air.

“the most prominent thing about amortentia is its smell,” kaiser states, “there’s a distinct smell to amortentia, but at the same time, there’s also no distinct smell to it. anyone understand what i’m saying?”

a young gryffindor raises her hand. "the smell of it depends on the person! usually it smells of things that a person finds pleasant or reminds them of someone they love."

"i wouldn't exactly say 'love', but yes, that's correct," kaiser hums as he gently stirs the pot. he had always been fickle with the term, especially since the topic of love had always seemed foreign to him. he was always able to grasp other concepts rather well, but love? it seemed a little too distant for his liking and he had no initiative to try and chase it to understand it. "the scent of it varies amongst everyone, so no two people will smell the same things."

a hufflepuff boy chimes in, "what do you smell, professor?"

kaiser looks up from the hypnotizing glimmer of the potion and raises a brow. he supposes it had been awhile since he had made the potion since his fifth-year and can't remember exactly what he had smelled, so he leans over the cauldron and wafts its scent towards him.

freshly baked bread is what rushes to him first. most likely from the bakery he used to steal from as a young boy.

second is the mild spice of cedar. that was most likely from his broomstick that was given to him when he got scouted to be in slytherin's quidditch team. the scent is familiar to him, considering he'd spent so much of his youth dedicated to it being by his side.

but the third... is lavender. kaiser furrows his brows and thinks that can't be right. he'd know where the scents would be from, but lavender seems a little foreign to him.

his concentration to try and trace the origin of it is suddenly broken when the door opens to reveal... you.

"sorry professor abernathy," you start as you gather the attention of the students. "my students are out of—you're not abernathy."

kaiser cocks a brow at your confused and irritated gaze as he scans your figure. "well clearly. i'm subbing for him for today since he's out sick. need something, (l/n)?"

you scoff at his snarky and unprofessional tone, making some of the students giggle. your long-standing rivalry with slytherin's head of house was quite famous amongst the generations of students at hogwarts, both when you and him were students and during your careers as professors. "that's professor (l/n) to you, professor kaiser."

"we all know that you don't care to call me that behind the scenes," he says casually. "no need for a filter."

a heated huff escapes your lips as you shake your head. "i advise you to have a knack for one. would do you some good, perhaps, especially since you racked up quite the detentions back when we were students."

a couple of ooh's wisp by from kaiser's students and he grits his teeth. not wanting to let himself be humiliated any longer from your presence, he hisses out, "what do you need, professor (l/n)?"

"mmh, that's more like it," you hum lightly as you make your way across the classroom to the jars that sit behind the professor's demonstration desk. "my students ran out of griffin's claw for their fertilizer. i just need a pinch of it, so i'm sure professor abernathy won't mind."

kaiser bites his tongue back to hurl an insult of that he'd mind, considering you were disrupting his class, but he falls silent, merely watching you with sly eyes as you make your way over and pass him by, your cloak fluttering behind you.

he freezes suddenly.

that's when he smells it.

the fresh scent of lavender fills his senses again, but this time, it doesn't come from the cauldron.

he looks back and when your figure enters his field of vision, the scent grows stronger despite him not facing the cauldron of amortentia.

that unique scent of lavender... is coming from you.

a/n ; @baepsays had suggested in a prior post that he'd prob have green dyed tips instead of blue and i was just so utterly consumed by it that i rewatched three hp movies. i'm ruined

[insidekatmind]

Trust me-Cho Sang-woo

Wearning:+18,smut

Request: yes!

It was a quiet night in the Squid Game compound. The lights were off, and the sound of the participants' breathing filled the cold air. You were in the dormitory, your eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, and you saw Cho Sang-woo lying on his cot. His figure was still, but his face couldn't hide a certain unease. He seemed lost in his thoughts, too deep and dark to share with anyone else.

You approached slowly, careful not to make any noise. You knew Sang-woo wasn't the type to open up easily, but in recent days, things between you had changed. There was an unspoken bond between you, a sort of tacit understanding that no one else could see. Maybe because you both carried a weight too heavy on your shoulders.

"Can't sleep?" your voice asked, low and calm, as you stopped near his bed. Sang-woo looked up, his eyes a little tired, but not surprised to see you there.

"I thought I should stop... think more about what I'm doing," he replied, his tone betraying an internal struggle. "But I can't stop now, right?"

You looked at him, aware of what he was trying to say. It wasn't just the game that tormented him, but his choices, his mistakes. Deep down, you weren't all that different from him. You, too, had made choices you never imagined you'd make before all of this started.

"We're not here by accident," you replied, trying to find the right words. "And we can't change everything right away. But... we can decide not to let this fear consume us."

He looked at you for a moment, almost as if he were trying to decipher you and your intentions. Finally, a small, sad smile appeared on his face. "Maybe you're right. But that doesn't mean it's easy."

You lay down on the bed next to him, silent for a while. The sound of the wind crashing against the walls of the dormitory and the slow beat of your heart seemed to be the only sound that connected you both in that moment.

"I won't leave you alone," you said at last, not trying to minimize what you were both experiencing. "Even if we can't change what's happened, we can decide what to do now."

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the weight of the night was starting to press down on him too. Then, without saying anything, he let the silence speak for both of you. In that moment, you both knew that the game, with all its ruthless rules, could never break the bond you had created.

You sigh softly and lean into him. “It's going to be okay,” you whisper. Sang-woo's body tenses for a moment, and he seems taken aback by the sudden closeness. But he doesn't move away, and when you lean into him, he can even feel your breath on his skin.

For a few seconds, there's just the sound of your breathing in the dark room. Then, he finally relaxes, and a weary smile appears on his face. "You're too optimistic," he says, but without rancor. There's a slight melancholy in his voice, but it's mixed with something else that you can't describe. "You should be more cynical."

You sigh and caress his cheek softly. “Trust me,” you whisper. Your hand on his cheek sends a shiver down his spine, and he swallows thickly, trying to control his reaction to your unexpected gesture. For a moment, he just looks at you, his dark eyes trying to find something in yours.

Slowly, Sang-Woo gently takes your hand into his. “In a place like this, trust is a hard thing to have,” he says, his voice low and almost tired. "Don't you think so?"

You smile softly and move closer to him without leaving any space between you. "Well you're stuck here, it's worth a try, don't you think?" You whisper softly, caressing his hand.

Your proximity is almost overwhelming, and Sang-woo's breath falters almost involuntarily. He can feel the warmth of your body close to his, your breath against his skin, and the soft touch of your fingers against his skin. There's a tension in the air, heavy and electric, and for a moment, it feels like time has slowed down, letting the two of you relish in this unexpected moment."You're too..." he whispers, not quite having the words. "Too kind. Too trusting. Too different from me."

He brings his free hand up to your face, resting it gently against your cheek. The tips of his fingers trace the curve of your cheekbone, his touch light and uncertain. "Why are you so determined to help me?" he asks, his dark eyes fixing on yours, searching for an answer. "Why don't you push me away like everyone else?"

You smile softly “because I see the real you, Sang-woo” you say softly. Sang-woo's breath hitches a little as he listens to your words. There's always been a part of him that he's tried to hide, a part of him that he's ashamed of. To hear you say that you see the real him is somewhat unnerving and terrifying, but it's also strangely liberating.

He brings his hand back down, his fingers gently tracing your jaw. "The real me is not a good person," he replies, almost as a confession. "You shouldn't look for good in me."

You shake your head and smile sweetly at him. “It's not true and you know it too, you just want to hide it so you don't get hurt” you say softly.

Sang-Woo looks at you for a moment and then connects his lips with yours in a kiss. The kiss is unexpected and fierce, and it seems to convey all the mixed emotions that have accumulated between you. It's a desperate and intense kiss, a mixture of anger, fear, and desire. Sang-woo pulls you closer to him, his hand tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss, almost as if he can't let you go. His body is taut against yours, the heat and weight of him a constant presence against you.

Place your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. Your arms around his neck only spur him on, and his tongue slides into your mouth, tasting and exploring you with an almost desperate fervor. His hands run over your body, feeling every inch of you, as if he wants to commit every curve to memory. As the kiss continues, the tension between you skyrockets, and the kiss becomes more and more demanding, almost possessive. It's a kiss that says more than words can possibly express, revealing a vulnerability that Sang-woo has tried so hard to hide.

The change in situation is quick and sudden, but it is not unwelcome. Sang-woo quickly takes off your sweatpants and underwear and quickly undresses. His movements seem almost frantic, desperate, as if he is trying to devour you completely. Suddenly you are lifted by Sang-woo, feeling the heat of his body between your legs. He pushes into you, his mouth still on yours, muffling the moans that escape both of your lips. He seems almost overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock being squeezed by your pussy.

As his body moves against yours, it's hard to tell where he ends and you begin. It's a physical and emotional release, a way to channel all the fear and tension that has been building between you for so long.Sang-woo's breathing is ragged, his movements erratic, as he loses himself in the moment, and even in the darkness, you can see the storm of emotions in his eyes. His hands tighten around your hips, keeping you anchored against him, as he kisses you more desperately, as if you are his only.

You moan into the kiss as you cling to him and Sang-woo pushes himself hard into you. Sang-woo is completely lost in the moment, his mind and body consumed by the pleasure of being with you. His fingers dig into your flesh, leaving marks on your skin, and the sounds of his moans fill the small space of the dormitory. He's no longer thinking about the surroundings, about the danger they are in. In that moment, all he wants is you, and judging by the desperate way he is holding and kissing you, that thought is almost scary to you.

Your bodies move together, creating a rhythm more hard, and Sang-woo's pace is relentless. It's as if he is trying to erase all the fear and despair of the games, if only for a few minutes, and lose himself in you. His lips leave yours and go down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses and marks.

You moan, closing your eyes in pleasure. “Sang-woo” you moan softly. Sang-woo seems to be spurred on by the sound of his name on your lips, and he bites down on your neck, almost as if he were trying to mark you, to claim you as his own.

His pace doesn't slow down, and he pushes himself deep into you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He seems consumed by you, like a man dying of thirst and finally finding an oasis. He kisses you again, his tongue seeking yours in an almost desperate way, as if in that moment, you are his only lifeline. "I need you," he whispers against your mouth, his voice ragged and rough with desire.

“So good” you moan softly opening your eyes and looking at him with desire. “Sang-woo” you moan again. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to Sang-woo's ears. He gazes down at you, his breath catching as he sees the desire in your eyes. The sight seems to both arouse him and break something inside him, and he responds with a growl that is almost animalistic.

He pushes into you again, hard, and his eyes seem to burn into yours. "Say my name again," he demands in a rough, hoarse voice, almost as if he wants to confirm that this is real and not just a dream.

You moan at his violent thrusts and look up at him. “Sang-woo” you moan again. The sound of his name on your lips ignites a fire in Sang-woo that he can't control. It's something primal and powerful, and it seems to break down all the walls he has put up to protect himself.

He doesn't let up, his movements becoming more and more intense with each thrust, as if he's determined to claim you completely. His eyes don't leave yours, and he seems on the verge of losing control, carried away by a tsunami of desire.

You cry out in pleasure and cling to him. Your pussy squeezed his cock tighter and tighter making him grunt. “look how your tight pussy is squeezing my cock” he growls fucking you faster making you scream and you bit his neck to not make too much noise since they were sleeping.

Your body's reaction to his words and actions seems to drive Sang-woo crazy.He seems almost possessed by the moment, as if all the fear and tension he had felt before have suddenly vanished. His body is like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. With each thrust, he loses a little more control, and the sound of his ragged breathing filling the tense silence of the dormitory. The words that escape his lips are almost filthy, but there is a vulnerability in them, a raw need that is impossible to fake. It's as if he can't hold back anymore, as if he is finally showing you the real him, the part of him that he is afraid to show to anyone else.

You cup his face and kiss him softly as you held each other tighter making both of you moan. “I'm coming,” you whisper near his lips. Your words seem to send a jolt through Sang-woo, and he growls low in his throat, his body tensing in response. His eyes find yours, and there is an almost wild look in them, like someone teetering on the edge.

"Come for me," he responds, his voice a low, rough whisper, almost like a ragged prayer. "Show me how much you want it." You moan feeling his thrusts get even stronger and you come while biting his neck to keep from screaming.

The feel of your teeth on his neck, the sound of your moan in his ear, it's all too much for Sang-woo. He can't hold back anymore, and his own climax follows closely behind yours. He hides his face in your neck, his arms holding you tight, as if he was trying to anchor himself to something real and tangible. He is trembling, his body still riding the aftershock of pleasure, and his breaths are ragged and unsteady. You could feel how he had filled you with his cum and it felt great.

Sang-woo clings to you, letting your gentle touch bring him back to reality. He seems almost vulnerable in that moment, his usual cold demeanor crumbling to reveal a man who's been through a lot more than he lets on. Your kisses are soothing, like a balm to his frayed nerves, and he nuzzles against your neck, his breaths gradually slowing down and returning to normal.

He's silent for a few moments, just inhaling your scent and soaking in the moment, as if he's trying to memorize every detail. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice low and a little hoarse."Can you stay here tonight?" he whispers, his arms still holding you close, as if he's afraid you'll leave if he lets go.

You smile and continue to rub his back. You give him a small kiss on the forehead and nod. Sang-woo seems to relax a little at your response, and he shifts a little so that he's lying down on his side, pulling you with him so that you're facing each other.He looks at you silently for a few moments, his expression unreadable, and then, almost hesitantly, his hand comes up to touch your face again, his fingers tracing a gentle path from your temple down to your jawline.

There's an almost contemplative look in his eyes, as if he's trying to commit your face to memory. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, and he seems to be lost in thought.Finally, he breaks the silence. "Are you real?" he asks, his voice soft and a little uncertain. "Or am I just dreaming right now?"

You smile softly and kiss him. "what do you think?" You whisper against his lips answering his question. Sang-woo's lips curve under yours, and he kisses you gently in return, as if he's trying to reassure himself that you're really there.

After a few moments, he breaks the kiss and looks at you again, his eyes dark and intense. "I think you might be a figment of my imagination," he says, half-joking, half-serious. "No one as patient and kind as you could possibly be real."

You giggle softly and hold him close, kissing his face countless times. “you just had to meet the right person” you whisper lovingly. Sang-woo's expression softens at your words, and his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer to his chest. He seems to take comfort in your embrace, and your gentle kisses seem to soothe him.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers back, a hint of guilt in his voice. "In fact, I don't think I deserve to be happy at all."

You gently stroke his hair. “everyone deserves to be happy” you whisper softly as you continue to cuddle him. Sang-woo seems to be struggling with himself, like he's trying to hold back emotions that he's used to keeping bottled up. He buries his face in your hair, and his breathing is a little ragged.

"I've done terrible things," he confesses in a low voice, his body tense against yours. "Things that I can't take back, and that will follow me to the grave." You continue to hold him close and comfort him. “yeah, but you regret it and you want to change and it makes you a better person” you say lovingly.

Sang-woo seems to absorb your words like a sponge, and he clings to you like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline. He seems so vulnerable in that moment, so different from his usual stern and cold demeanor."I don't know whether I can change," he whispers, his voice filled with self-doubt. "Sometimes I think I'm too far gone, that I've gone past the point of no return."

“I'll help you, you're not alone in this” you say softly, stroking his hair. Sang-woo's body seems to sag against yours, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. He seems to be grappling with a host of emotions, a tangle of guilt, shame, and uncertainty.

But amidst those feelings, there's a hint of hope, like a ray of sunshine breaking through a storm cloud.

[svetamillss]

omg I love your writing, can you do one with squid game characters seeing the several bruises on your body that you have been trying to hide pls?

Headcanons: their reaction to your bruises🩵

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Se Mi x Reader(f)

Summary: you studied at the university. And often faced bullying. Many guys humiliated and beat you, which caused you to have bruises that you tried to hide.

A/N: Thank you very much for such a charming order! I hope you liked what I wrote!

🩵🩵🩵

Cho Hyun Ju

You didn't want to tell your girlfriend anything about it, because she had her own problems because of the transition to a girl. That's why you tried to hide all your bruises.

But you couldn't do it forever. After all, you sleep in ordinary pajamas, which opens your skin of your feet and hands well.

And because of this, the following situation occurred.

Ju was already lying in bed when you quickly came running and covered almost with a blanket, it worried her.

- Did something happen, baby? Why did you hide from me? - she asked, looking only at your head, which was looking out of the blanket.

- I'm just cold, don't worry.

- Hmm..but now the weather is hot..and you often started wearing warm clothes. Maybe you're sick??? Then don't cover yourself up so much!! - the girl said excitedly, removing the blanket from you, you tried to stop her, but nothing came out, she defeated you.

Pulling off the blanket, Hyun Ju noticed a lot of bruises on her arms and legs, her face turned pale sharply.

- Baby... Why do you have so many bruises??? - you had no choice but to confess everything.

After your story about being beaten at the university, Hyun Ju got very angry, preparing to deal with your abusers at such a late time, but you barely stopped her.

- No one will dare to touch my baby with a finger. Tomorrow I will go to your university and deal with everything. And I don't care if they look at me askause, I won't let them touch you.

Your favorite girl will definitely deal with your abusers, that there will be no wet place left from them.

Thanos (Su Bong)

In your opinion, the guy was not the one who would worry about the problems of others, even if something happened to loved ones.

That's why you decided not to tell him anything, but just put on clothes with long sleeves so that nothing could be seen.

But you didn't take into account the fact that Su Bong is quite observant and quickly notices changes, especially if they concern you.

You were going to go to the movies. You put on a long-sleeved sweater again, not paying attention to the fact that it was quite hot outside.

- Are you a fool? - he asked rudely, entering the room, seeing how you were dressed.

- What are you talking about?

- Have you seen the weather outside? Why the fuck are you dressed like in winter? Go change your clothes! - he was worried about you, although he showed it in a different way, you decided to take a chance and admit what was going on.

- I can't dress openly yet.

- Why else is that?

And you told him everything, from the beginning to the very end. His face changed with each new word, from neutral to more evil.

- WHAT THE FUCK?! WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU SILENT?! - he shouted, but you understood that he was not shouting at you, but because of the whole situation.

- I thought you wouldn't be interested..

- Fuck! You're completely crazy! How could you think that?! It makes me very angry! That's it! Tomorrow I will go and kill everyone who touched you. I'll do everything so well that they won't suit you anymore. If, of course, they stay alive.

You couldn't refuse him. Although, even if you refused, he would still do his own thing. After all, he loves you very much.

Se Mi

The girl worked very hard, so you didn't want to burden her with your problems.

But Se Mi was very attentive and therefore immediately noticed that you began to wear baggy clothes, although you usually wore more open clothes.

- Honey, have you decided to change your image? - she asked, laughing a little, when she saw you in a huge sweater.

- I just decided to experiment.

- When you lie, your ears turn red. - she said, after which you immediately covered your ears with your hands, realizing that she caught you.

The girl came close to you and said in a stern tone:

- Undress. I have to see what you're hiding from me. - you blushed from her words,but obeyed and showed all your bruises.

The girl gently stroked the places of your bruises, silent for a long time.

- Se Mi?

- Who did it? - you explained everything to her, she was angry, but tried not to show it to you.

- Don't hide it from me anymore. Tomorrow I'll deal with everything and everything will be fine.

Se Mi never throws words to the wind, she will help you cope with everything. She won't care that she's a girl and go deal with the guys, your safety is the main thing for her.

🩵🩵🩵

[gray-r-regan]

Something nobody talks about but everyone needs to hear:

If you feel as though you need to embellish what happened to you to make it sound worse when explaining it to someone, you are not "attention whoring," "being dramatic," or a compulsive liar (actually, you might be a compulsive liar, but that's related to what I'm talking about, so please feel zero judgment from me and stay tuned).

If people had not already and repeatedly dismissed, negated, downsized and otherwise invalidated your suffering and been unwilling or unable to give you the help you're looking for by communicating the situation, you would never feel driven to make it seem "serious enough" to warrant help.

You started out talking, then you started yelling, now you're screaming, and the world has its ears plugged.

You are escalating your attempts to get the validation, reassurance, the healing that you need, and that is a survival mechanism. That is you being a fighter.

That is the pain in you saying DO YOU NOT SEE THAT I WANT TO LIVE SO BADLY THAT I AM SCREAMING ABOUT IT?

Your addictions and other "negative" behaviors are saying this exact same thing.

They are saying "I will do anything to survive, and right now I have to, because I am not getting the help I need."

The sad truth about this world: sometimes you have to scream to force it to pay attention. You shouldn't have to. Talking should be enough. Saying it once should be enough.

Whatever happened to you was serious. It was terrible. It was wrong. It never should have happened. I may not see you, but believe me, I see you. I do. I know your heart hurts, and you feel like someone scraped out your thoracic cavity with a melon-baller and enjoyed it.

I know your addictions and your numbness came about when you screamed and screamed and screamed and no one came for you and if you are crying, please let yourself cry. You need to cry. You need to beat the shit out of your pillow and scream and get angry at the ones who hurt you and expel that cancer through tears and movement, writing, art, running, kickboxing singing screaming into the void or doing fucking macrame, whatever. Not headbanging. We don't want neck injuries. There are a lot of disabled guitarists out there.

I'm here; I'll wait, please come back, it's going to get better.

The food, the phone, the games, the drugs, the meds, the alcohol -- they're pacifiers. You need something you can't find, something others cannot or will not give you, so you use these because they make it hurt a little less and you are so, so tired of the hurt, and you have to function and stay on your feet, for fuck's sake, you have the kid(s), the dishes, the laundry, school, the dog, the cat, the pet rock to be strong for and take care of, so you needed SOMETHING to keep you from falling apart. I know.

The thing is, it might be all well and good and socially acceptable to quiet yourself like this, because people don't like the messiness of other people's emotions, needs, wants, honesty and healing (that's why they abuse autistic people through ABA), but I want them for you, and you want them, even though you're afraid you won't survive facing them (you will).

What's going to kill you eventually is not facing them. And I know you don't really want to die. You just want the pain to stop. You don't want to be staring down a future where unhappiness and numbness, fatigue and anger are the only things that exist. You want happiness, you want moments of ease and joy, but maybe it's been so long you don't remember what that's like, and it seems like asking for a goddamn pony when your parents can't make rent.

I am here holding space for you, holding your hand or your shoulder if you want or need that, hanging out on the other wall if you don't, and I'm telling you the only way out of the well is through it. Upwards. Through all that shit you're afraid of because you already faced it on the way down. I'm down here with you, telling you the reason no one will lower a rope or a ladder is because they can't -- the well you're in doesn't exist for them, just like theirs don't exist in your world (the only reason I can well-hop is because I clawed my way out of mine, and I'm here because I don't want you to also spend thirty-five point five years doing it, or worse, die at the bottom).

You can give me the reasons you can't climb out, and I will listen.

Again, you gotta survive. Gotta work. Parent. Be a spouse. Avoid the wrath of abusive parents who can't handle their own emotions, much less yours.

I hear that.

And I tell you this:

There is no reason good enough to keep living like this. No person more important than you are. You are equal to everyone from your next door neighbor to Thich Nhat Hanh (he'd have told you the same, kind of is, in fact, and you'll see how if you stick with me), so anyone putting themselves and their wants and needs above you is wrong to do it.

And yes, it's gonna suck and it's gonna be painful and scary to feel all of that. Why else do we try anything to avoid it? Nobody ever taught us we can sit and feel it and be compassionate and kind to ourselves as we work it out without acting on it destructively -- but you can.

The sooner you start, the less of it you'll have to get through, and the faster you can learn to take the new things that come at you and handle them before they can be put away and start to fester.

It's like the flu (I have covid, currenly, for the sixth time. Luckily, you can't catch the plague from an apparition. And I'm wearing an apparition mask, just to be safe). You can't just squeeze the flu into an hour and be done with it. Too much suffering all at once would be too much pressure release, too painful, like heat shattering a pot lid.

You have to let it out through vents, and the size of the vent varies based on the amount of time, energy, space and tools you have on hand at the moment.

But "venting," in the traditional sense, just endlessly explaining to people what happened, or writing it out and cutting the pages with your pen, isn't enough, and the former can inflict trauma on the listener (that's why therapists get emotional regulation training, so they can catch what's coming at them and diffuse it, the way I'm showing you now, because you know what I'm sick of seeing? "This is your problem," followed by "pay me $500/hr and I'll fix it." That's some predatory shit, isn't it? And it's everywhere. No. We're not doing that, my well-bound ghost friend).

Nah, we've tried venting. It didn't work. So now we're going to Vent Productively.

The tools are simple, and the tools are cheap.

1. Compartmentalization.

The reason you're not going to lose your job or get in trouble at school or beat up the shitheads who keep making your life miserable when you start the healing process is that, if you don't already, you are going to learn to put parts of your life into separate boxes. You are going to be a different part of yourself in each box.

Spouse You (we wish we could be all of ourselves in front of the person who is supposed to be our partner, but they are also a fractured human, so we can't, and knowing they are also humans with limits is part of being a good partner). Parent You, which should only ever be part of you anyway, so your kids don't stay stressed, worried and scared. School/work you etc., who doesn't share anything they don't strictly need to know, and gathers the bullshit people throw at them to put it into the last box:

The messy stuff goes in this big box here, here's a gold Sharpie, we're labeling it "HEAL," we're doing some kintsugi, you're gonna be even more beautiful.

2. Writing. Phone. Journal. Napkin. Wall. Digital recorder. Stone tablet.

In this box, the key is to VOMIT. Bear with me.

The VOMIT acronym comes from a YouTube video by author Campbell Walker, who wrote Your Head Is a Houseboat, a fun and easy-to-understand metaphor for Internal Family Systems, which really means looking at all the different parts of yourself and giving them some much-needed group therapy (and throwing a few of them overboard, where a lot of my immediate family find themselves). Cam is a former addict, current healthy and wildly helpful and creative father of two.

It's for journaling, but journaling is affordable, DIY therapy when done correctly.

Vent:

Get all that shit out of your head. Just write. Don't edit. Go until it feels like there's nothing left. Now go drink some water and do something that calms you down, like deep breathing, meditation, stretching, walking, dancing. Put your attention on your body (you're going to be spending more time here than in your head now, so it's good practice. Trust me, it's better out here than in your head, and this is where you're going to have to learn to stay when your brain isn't needed for problem solving or creativity, if you want to stay sane. After a while of keeping up your VOMIT habit, meditating, facing your life with honesty and a drive to problem solve and a determinationto have fun and perform self-care, the inside will be much cleaner and you'll stop breaking your toes on boxes full of what you felt like you couldn't deal with before).

Now go back and look at it all. Write a letter to yourself addressing everything point by point, but here is the one rule: you cannot write from the perspective of your own worst enemy and most self-destructive voices. You must write from the perspective of the kindest, most empathetic, most unconditionally-loving and forgiving person in the universe. The parent you never had.

The person that, if you do all these things and do them for the rest of your life, you're going to become.

This is the part where you finally get the bandages and antiseptic you've always needed. Where you get what that hollow part of you is screaming for. If you learn to validate and love yourself unconditionally, and talk to yourself like a stern, no-bullshit, kind best friend who wants to see you get everything you need and whatever you want (that would be good for you), you'll never feel like you're alone in the world, looking for things no one can give you. Because they really can't. If you don't feel love, it's because the hate and coldness you internalized at the hands of abusive people and inept parents is in the way.

You're holding it up like a backward shield made of glass, and all it's doing is intensifying the burning of all the hate in the world and setting you on fire.

I promise you don't need it.

Put it down.

When people are kind, you do deserve it.

Most of your thoughts are automatic defense mechanisms, and that's all they are. They're little shadow puppets that pop up to replay The Story of What Happened and Why Everything Including Me is Awful, and the very unfunny thing about that?

They do it because they believe if you see it happen enough times, you'll stop being hurt by it.

But you're hurt every time you see it.

So jettison them. Put them in a lifeboat if your heart is made of powdered sugar (it is. It's still in there. It's still soft under the armor, believe me).

When someone tries to hurt you now, instead of holding up a shield that says I KNOW, hold up a mirror. Because that's what you literally are to other people. This is how "mirror neurons" function. We see who we are, or we think we do, through other people's reactions to us. But here's the thing about that: most people are funhouse mirrors. Most of them distort our image, because:

1. They have no idea what's going on inside our heads, our motivations, hopes, dreams, past experiences that explain our beliefs and actions, intentions, etc., and they almost always misread them BECAUSE they're seeing us through that warped lens, so you may do something to be kind, and get slapped and screamed at. Is this an accurate reflection? Accurate information about who you are, and how you should feel? How others get to treat you? Abso-fucking-lutely not, ghost friend. No.

2. Their prejudices. They're bigots, a lot of them. And even if they don't think they are, now science has proven that, at least if you're autistic (and society can't produce an autistic person who isn't traumatized, and what I'm writing here is one big contributing factor), neurotypicals don't like you, and they don't like you on sight. And do you know why? Mirror neurons. Autistic people tend to look at reality WITHOUT a warped lens. That's why we so often create genius works, invent things, spread valuable information, make breakthroughs, HATE LIES -- we don't delude ourselves for the sake of comfort and societal harmony based on lies. They do not want to see themselves so clearly. Looking at us is like putting on your glasses before you put on makeup and recoiling at what you've been judging yourself for. Are we always the image of snow-white clarity? No. We're fallible too. But we're about 99% less fallible, and we're getting sick of being gaslit.

It's not us they hate. It's themselves.

We can and probably should be kind enough to cushion them a little, when we have the spoons, though it should be their responsibility to examine themselves and build confidence. But trying to be a mirror for them that is comforting, rather than jarring, would make all our lives easier in a lot of ways.

And this is why, even if you aren't autistic, you need to realize nothing is personal and everything someone tries to show you or tell you about yourself needs to stick to the motorcycle helmet visor of your mind, and not go straight into your throat like a fat bee to be choked on and cause anaphylaxis. We're going too fast to stop and look for the fugging EpiPen, and also, they're prohibitively expensive, and the United States Government and healthcare systems are shit, so prophylaxis it is, baby.

Later, you can examine it, decide whether you'd like to change yourself to align with what you've been told, or throw it away as garbage coming from someone with a shitty attitude, rudeness, prejuduce, insecurity, jealousy, or bad intentions.

Don't automatically believe ANYTHING. Not what you're told, not what you read, not even what you see. Dwell on it later. Examine it. Fact-check it ruthlessly. Be selective about what you decide to keep, and never get so attached that you can't chuck that overboard at a later date when it's no longer useful. It's not only okay to say, "I don't know for sure, and maybe I never will," it's the most mature, wisest, and only sane possible response to most things.

A long digression, coming back to the next letter of VOMIT:

Obligations

Write down everything you're responsible for, expected to do, want to do, etc. I'm including this because the pain you've been dragging around has made it hard to keep up, hasn't it. Now you're stressed and overwhelmed. It's okay, I've got you.

First step after writing it all down is to realize you are not actually starting from being BEHIND IT ALL. That's a mental illusion. You are simply here, now, looking at it all in a pile, not judging yourself for how you got here (because we know how, the human struggle is how). So drop your shoulders and breathe.

It's going to feel so good to make a plan for all of this, even knowing that, as a human, that plan is going to change and be challenged and you probably won't get it all done, but as long as you're alive you can keep steadily flowing around the obstacles until, like water, you wear them down to pebbles. Either they're going to get smaller, or you're going to get stronger -- that's what resistence and persistence create.

Yeah, this does seem like a lot of work, but you know what? Long-term stress and depression make you forget that you have basically been knocked down, and you are dragging the world's heaviest backpack along the road of your life, and to be able to walk and feel light again, you have to unpack it and stand back up.

It's like cleaning a house: if you're sick, like me, the grime and dust bunnies are going to pile up, and for a while, to rest your body, you have to be okay with allowing that. You have to let go of the guilt that comes with it, because resting is the sensible priority (when you can do it). If you keep going, you're not going to get better, and then everything just gets worse. It's a sign of maturity to know when to take a knee on purpose, and...

...when to get back up and tackle the mess. And once the mess is tackled, we don't want to have to do that again, so we make a plan to do regular maintenance. On everything in life. A little time on everything means we won't have to neglect as much because we're trying to play catch-up all the time on other things.

Yes, this is what that means: We must picture Sisyphus happy. He spends all his time rolling a boulder up a hill just for it to roll back down.

You maintain everything just for it to continuously degrade.

But we do it because we are alive, and we want to stay alive, even when we think we don't, like we saw earlier: "I want to die" is always either a loud cry for help to someone else, or a silent cry for help to ourselves (and only we can finally answer it).

So we're helping ourselves to live, to make friends with the boulder, to make up creative games that make the pushing fun, to use our gold Sharpie and give him a face and call him Bouldy and say fuck you, Gods, I'm THRIVING, AND ONLY A LITTLE BIT OUT OF SPITE.

We imagine him happy. We emulate him. We get creative, because only creativity can save us from this world we created. It's paradoxical but true. There's only one door both ways.

Now, let's use the Eisenhower Matrix. Make a big plus sign on paper, or get four markers, pens, etc, in different colors, or make four numbered headings in a doc.

We're going to prioritize your obligations to ease your mental load, and make them easier to tackle.

And no, life isn't a productivity and efficiency maximization simulator. These are not shackles. You could, feasibly, put on a billowy peasant dress and go live in a meadow if you're at peace with the ramifications of that (I wish I could, I tipped too far past the nonbinary because I had to have a total hysto for medical reasons, separate from transition, and I just wouldn't feel, you know, cute... plus people and animals depend on me to not go lie under an eternal blanket of gaillardia beneath an ancient burr oak, like an open-air temple of silence).

ONWARDS

Category 1: Urgent

There is a deadline, either set by someone else, or by a consequence you want to avoid if this task isn't done by this time/date. Think bills. Homework. Job-related tasks. Feeding the kids/pets/yourself. Taxes. One caveat for this box: if it can be delegated to someone else, it doesn't go here. We'll put it into Category 3 later.

Caregory 2: Important

It matters to you, but if it sits a while, nothing bad will happen. Basically, it's a must, but the deadline is unclear.

Category 3: Important, but Not Quite Urgent

Somebody else can do it, or it won't ruin anything if it just never gets done, or gets scheduled over and over. Your backburner.

Category 4: "Not important/Don't Do."

I tell you now, friend, this common title is a misnomer. This is where All Good Employees, Students, Partners and Parents bury their dreams and subsequently their physical and mental health. Write a book. Play a game. Take a walk. Learn how to cultivate tea leaves. Play the trombone. Learn Spanish. Make a Gorillaz-inspired cartoon band (someday). Don't do this. Those things belong in boxes one and two. You must ruthlessly cut things from those boxes to make room for your dreams, rest, exercise -- these are the things that MAKE EVERYTHING ELSE POSSIBLE. This is the empty cup saying. You cannot pour from it. Your friends come over and there's no fucking tea because you scrubbed the shower grout instead of playing guitar or painting. I know the shower grout needed to be done, but here's where Bouldy and being his creative BFF comes in: get some no-rinse Tilex. Devote five to ten minutes per day to the grout. Put it in your bullet journal, which you absolutely need, and it doesn't have to be ~aesthetic~ and perfect if you don't want it to be, it can just be where you put everything your brain is supposed to work on, not store. Also a good excuse to reward yourself for tasks and good mental habits with stickers, pens, washi tape and stencils. Cishet guys, I'm talking to you, too. It's for your eyes only, if you want anime stickers or little holographic fairies you fucking buy those things. The little beige box society put you in is boring as fuck and sad and we all know it and you are not defined by anything you do not choose to define yourself by from here on out, insofar as your comfort and safety allow. Okay? PINK AND LAVENDER ARE FUCKING BEAUTIFUL, END OF. I LOVE YOU.

Moving on, we take everything in those boxes, and we look at our day, week, month and year and we schedule them realistically. Do not overliad your days. You will want to. You will fail. You will give up. Be the tortoise, not the hare.

Make sure things like the shower grout are scheduled to repeat and be done a little at a time.

Look at each task with a critical and creative eye. Does it even NEED to be done? Do you still care about it? Does it align with your values (you should define your values, by the way, because either they will define you or you will be defined by external forces)? Does it move you towards who and what you want to be? Can you get rid of some things so you have more space and time? Marie Kondo is right: what you own dictates how you live. Minimalism is freedom (if you can afford it...).

Now!

Mindset!

I've been trying not to link to this video, because I don't want to put even more info on you (if you're overwhelmed, save the post, screenshot it, make yourself a phone alarm to come back and take notes if anything here is helpful, you're in charge, it's your well, I'm just visiting) but now I think I should, because he explains the last three letters best.

One caveat: where he says, "How is this the best thing that's ever happened to me," a therapist in the comments suggests, "How can I grow from this?" so you're not just hitting yourself with toxic positivity and downplaying what hurts you.

Vomit Journaling System

Okay. So those are the practical, concrete steps no one tells you how to take on your mental health journey. But I'm telling you, because I know that it isn't a waste of time and energy to show people how to weave ropes and build ladders.

That's how evolution works. That is literally all we're here for -- if you find a way to live a little better, you hand it to someone else, and they pass it down, and that's called evolution.

I don't believe in God, or any supernatural power, or anything, in fact. I believe in nothing, so that I can see everything, without my mirror distorted (we see through a veil, darkly, religion says, plagiarizing ancient Eastern wisdom traditions, referring to mirror neurons in desperate need of Windex and a microfiber cloth, smudged by the bugs of other people's bullshit, things we believe without investigating, prejudices, delusions, all negative thoughts without exception, things we wish were true so hard we almost believe them, and anything else that isn't purely rational seeing without judging, without thinking, without believing or trying to manipulate).

The universe is a beautiful pinball machine full of atoms crashing into one another just to watch the motherfucking board light up.

But WE try to make meaning out of it all, we try to make it all make sense, creating languages and systems and myths, legends, religions, governments, societies, gender norms (gross), books (yay), movies, you name it. All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone, said Blaise Pascal.

All the other animals are already Zen Masters, except, you know, primates, which are our closest relatives and which also fight over shit for no reason.

The pinball machine is what Albert Camus, our friend who taught us about Bouldy, was saying about the Absurd: the universe just is. It's a pure, creative impulse, wibbling and wobbling the way Alan Watts described, in particles and waves, making patterns, dancing, playing, not trying to do anything or get anywhere, just being here, now, and creating, which is the underlying impulse of all of us, since we are those waves and particles, pretending to be humans and animals and ravens and writing desks for a little while, before the clay dries out and we pick up another form, to pretend to be something else, everything another little finger puppet on the hands of what is.

It is not judging you. It does not care who you are, what you do or don't do. It doesn't care whether you're happy or sad (though, in a way, it prefers you to be happy, because that is more beneficial to survival, because creation and survival are the same thing. You can't sin (sin is seeing through that distorted mirror, prayer is calling it what it is, answered prayers are the mental clarity that comes from VOMIT journaling, how's that for absurd, Albert?). You can't be damned, broken, ruined, changed. You're not the finger puppet. We're all the puppeteer. The pinball machine. Playing a game that sometimes feels shitty because feeling good doesn't exist without contrast. Nothing does. And that gets boring for eternity, so we do things. Then we look over the face of the waters and call them good or bad, and that's where all the trouble starts, because it still all just is.

If someone, such as myself, saw you here, now, at the bottom of your well, and knew you sometimes think the most horrible thoughts, that you've done terrible things, that you have acne, a little or a lot of unwanted weight, stretch marks, freckles you hate, a receeding hairline, no skills, no hobbies, no education, no desire to work or live, maybe you're the soldier from Metallica's 'One' and you stepped on a landmine and now you're a torso without senses so you can't do anything ever again --

And still saw you as perfect, as completely acceptable, as just a being who still has the potential to decide what to do next, if I just wanted to watch you and experience you vicariously because I love everything, all experience, good and bad, pleasant and painful, because it's all life, wouldn't you feel free, and unconditionally loved?

That's what the ancient Eastern wisdom traditions were trying to teach. "God," is just a word for a universe that has open arms for everything in it, accepts itself completely, wants the best but doesn't force anything. Unconditional love is that. Wordless witnessing of everything. Mom, dad, look what I can do!

I cobbled all this together to save myself, from resources like Campbell Walker, Thich Nhat Hanh, Alan Watts, Buddhist philosophy, so many books, like Goodbye, Things (Fumio Sasake), The Courage to be Disliked (Ichiro Kishimi, Fumitake Koga), Brene Brown, and decades of suicidal depression and daily panic attacks.

Every ladder out of the well is made of the shoulders of generous giants.

Recently, I was consumed by anger so white and constant I felt burned alive all the time. I had been filling up the HEAL box with all the hot coals the world could hand me, my entire life, and not stopping to put them out. Anger has always been a struggle for me. I'm auDHD, I'm trans, nonbinary, bi, ace, I had abusive-negligent parents, I was indoctrinated with religion, I was parentified, I married a seemingly normal person who later threatened to skin me in my sleep and threatened to murder our child, I joined the military thinking I could support my family, most of whom displayed clear Dependent Personality Disorder, and still get away from them, plus (ha ha no) help other people, got so physically and psychologically fucked-up that I'll never walk normally or run again (I loved running, I'm mourning the loss years later), my spine is deteriorating, I got 100% disability through the VA for how severe my PTSD is, and there's a nazi in office... again.

So yeah. I've been consumed by rage.

My entire life.

Obviously my parents just wanted me to shut the fuck up and pay their bills and listen to their problems, so I learned anger = scary and bad.

It doesn't, and I wish I had listened to it back then. I wish I had let my shadow side, the one I picture as the towering gantry of a flower-laden, moss-covered gashadokuro, metaphorically stomp all those people into dust and carry me to a place where I could have started the life I wanted without wasting so many years of it on people who didn't give a fuck about me anyway.

I wish I had seen how deeply that goddamn giant skeleton loves me (thanks, Kate Nash).

That's what your anger and your rage are for. Don't let them be twisted into useless hate for others, which will make you sick, or into hate for yourself, which is the goddamn sock puppets who parrot your abusers words at you again, asking to be made to walk the plank.

Your anger is proportionate to the love and respect that will always be in there, speaking up for you and for others when shit isn't right. It's okay to feel it. It's okay to burn it off in ways that don't cause harm to you or anyone else. Grab the pillow. Buy a punching bag (check Facebook marketplace). Use your journaling techniques.

But don't ignore it. That's where your depression stems from:

Imagine loving someone or something so fiercely, more than anything, or at least every bit as much as... and watching them lie down and be trampled. Watch them give up what they love. Watch them scramble through addiction to escape the one and only present moment they will never exist in -- the only one where they can find the things they've been searching for -- in the past, the future, and substances, never finding it because they are too afraid that being present with you and the razor-sharp but nonjudgmental mirror you will show them of themselves, because in their learned helplessness they still believe there is nothing they can do, and because the voices of abusers will point out flaws that don't exist. Will say fat is something you are, not something you have. That it's disgusting. You're lazy. You're stupid. You're selfish. Whispering lies, like a snake in the ear, driving them away from you to the things you know are bad for them, that they know are bad for them, mostly to, you know, the knowledge of good and evil... the tendency to judge everything, to say it's good or bad, to split it all right in two (thanks, Maynard), and not just breathe and allow it all to be what it is, including themselves. Clear, and without thought. In the body. Present. Loved unconditionally.

Here.

Now.

If you'd like to feel love again, this is how I'm doing it.

Here.

At the bottom of this well.

With you.

[withlovemark]

Could you write whiny bf Haechan cause you won’t kiss, hug or cuddle him cause your busy pls? (make it long pls)

an: i tried to make this as long as i can!

warning: suggestive

“baby, im hereee,” you hear the excitement from haechan! as he entered your apartment.

“in here,” you quickly reply from your office, eyes glued to your computer, fingers typing away at the last minute task your boss had sent you.

“hi, baby,” you hear the smile in his voice, excited for the free day he finally had to be with you not knowing that you were already too deep and focused on the work in front of you.

confused as to why you haven’t reciprocated his energy, haechan makes his way over to you, softly whispering, “i said im hereee,” he teases, landing a soft kiss upon your temple.

you quickly pull away, “later, donghyuck,” knowing that the boy next to you is your biggest distraction.

“government name and everything, huh,” he frowns, arms crossed.

you were being unreasonable, you know that. but you also know that the faster you get this done, the faster you can spend the rest of your day with him - uninterrupted. so until you finish, he would just have to deal with it.

“haechan, im busy. later, ok?” you say, gentler this time but still not sparing him a glance.

“ugh fineeeee,” he says standing up, “i’ll be in your room…dying! if you even care!,” he complains dramatically before storming off and you can't help but quietly giggle to yourself at your boyfriend’s dramatic antics. you sure did miss it so.

15 minutes later

haechans booming voice startled you as he popped into the doorway of your office, making you lose focus, “can we makeout now!?”

“no...leave,” you say sternly, waving him off.

harsh, but needed to be done or else you would never get anything done.

he sighs, loudly marching back to your bedroom, making sure you could hear every step of betrayal he is currently feeling.

to be fair, you did feel awful about it. you also wanted nothing more but to wrap him in your arms.

-

10 minutes later

“how about now?,”

“haechan-,”

“babyyyy, you havent even kissed me, like hello, what happened to ‘hi my sexy adorable boyfriend haechannie i missed you so much come get all the kisses from every day you were away!?’” he pouts and you almost! break at his desperation.

“later, i promise,” you say carefully.

“you said that 25 minutes ago, its later now,”

“i really need to get this done, i promise i’m all yours after,” you give him a smile and he has no choice but to retreat back into the bedroom.

when a bad bitch tells you to do something, you just gotta do it.

-

40 minutes later

he tried. he really tried to be in his best behavior but this is absolutely ridiculous.

“okay its been past an hour, i can't take it anymore, if you don't give me at least one kiss i'm breaking up with you,” he threatens.

“haechan don't be dramatic,”

“baby i can feel myself rotting away!,” he says falling to his knees for an even more dramatic effect.

“go play a game of league, it’ll make time move faster,”

“i dont want to do thattt, i want to cuddle and hold your hand and kiss you until i can't breathe,”

“20 more minutes, pleaseee,” pulling out your puppy eyes and buying you more time.

he agrees, of course, but his patience is on thin ice.

-

exactly 20 minutes and not a second later

“heyyy my beautiful amazing girlfriend, are you ready to cuddle?,” he barges in once again.

seeing that you are still nose deep into your computer, typing away like there’s no tomorrow, he lets out a sigh.

“ok, that’s it,” marching into your office, haechan picks you up from your computer chair as you let out a startled scream before he gently places you back down on his lap, your eyes meeting the bright screen you’ve been facing for the past hour.

“what are you doing?,” you look back at him curiously.

“just wanna hold you,” he smiles innocently, hands immediately wrapping around your waist you sigh, letting it slide as you continue to work, sitting comfortably on his lap.

he keeps his word for a while watching you type then delete then retype until it all got too boring.

slowly, he moves his hand from your waist to your thighs.

“haechan-,” you warn him.

“what?, just massaging you baby, you’re so tense,” he grins, kissing your shoulder. you try your best to ignore him, not wanting to give in and haechan takes this as a sign to continue.

pushing your shorts to the side, he starts rubbing you above your panties. your breath hitches in your throat and as much as you want to tell him to stop, you can’t seem to find the words to do so. as soon as he found that spot, the clicking keyboard stopped and your boyfriend can’t help but smirk.

“will you kiss me now?,” he pleads, turning your face towards him, “pleaseee,” he pouts and you find yourself leaning in like a magnet…until…

a zoom call from your boss starts ringing throughout the room, snapping you out of your haze.

you panic, pushing haechan out of the view, before composing yourself and answering the call.

haechan sighs in defeat, guess you really do got to work.

-

two hours later

you finally finished! stretching your limbs out from sitting for so long, you wonder why the house is so quiet

“haechan!,” you excitedly call out to your boyfriend, ready to give him your full attention but you’re met with nothing but silence.

walking into your bedroom, you find your boyfriend sprawled out on your bed, light snores filling the air. you make your way to him, quietly laying by his side, careful not to wake him up, lightly brushing aside the strands of hair that have fallen over his eyes.

his hair is so long now, making you realize how much time has actually passed since you last saw him. gently you trace his features, from his sharp nose to his plump lips, the moles that sit upon his cheeks, memorizing every detail.

at your touch, haechan’s eyes flutter open, “hi,” you whisper, waking him up from his slumber.

it takes a while for him to regain his voice, looking into your eyes “am i dreaming?”

you giggle and he cant help but give you a lazy smile, “no, im here… im sorry i couldn't be present earlier, i just wanted to get it all done so i’d have more time with you,” you explain to him and he nods right away.

“it’s okay baby i understand,” he reassures you, pulling you closer.

”no, it was supposed to be an us day,” you pout, you really did feel bad about it.

”baby its okayyyy, we still have the rest of the day,” he says, placing a kiss on the frown that has etched its way upon your forehead. you sigh in content, hugging him even tighter.

“can we make out now?,” he teases, breaking the heartwarming moment the two of you were having.

you giggle before pulling him in, his soft lips finally connecting with yours.

“god, i’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs against your lips and you can't help but moan as he pulls you in closer and closer.

your hand makes its way down, palming him through his grey sweats and he can’t help but whine under your touch, “haechannie-” you purr.

“yeah, baby?,” he whimpers.

“finish what you started earlier?,” your request earns you a smirk from him.

“yes ma’am,” he salutes before finally giving you what you both have been waiting for.

-

an: thanks for requesting! had a lot of fun writing this one! im a sucker for anything haechan but whiny, annoying, desperate bf! haechan is definitely on top of that list >.<

[rekino2114]

How about Accidentally switching jerseys with the Manshine City girls?

Accidentally switching jerseys with the manshine city girls

A/n:Technically, I should have done the same prompt but with the bastard münchen girls first, but since there are a lot more characters there, I'll just do that next Sunday and do this first. Also I did male reader for this since that's how I did it in the pxg post but sorry if that's not what you wanted (also if the anon who requested the same thing with the bastard münchen girls reads this I'd like it if you let me know if you want male or gn reader)

Fem!seishiro nagi

"Hey nagi"

"............."

"Nagi!"

"............."

"NAGI!!!"

"..........."

Fed up with her friend ignoring her rei sighed and took the phone out of Nagi's hands

"Wha- hey I was playing, give it back"

"You can't use the phone we're literally about to go on the field"

Nagi sighed heavily and reassumed her permanent bored expression

"Do I really have to play? I don't feel like it"

"Why?"

"I wanna play games. I almost have enough points to go up a rank....if you give me my phone"

"I already said no, take it up with Prince if you don't wanna play"

"No.....talking with him would be such a hassle.....can you do it?"

"No"

The white haired girl sighed once against as she put her hands behind her head and started laying down on the floor of the changing room

"The team we're fighting is so weak though, I don't care about them. Going up against weak people is such a hassle"

She closed her eyes as rei looked at her annoyed before coming up with an idea

"But if you play you can impress y/n"

At the mention of your name, nagi opened one eye with as much interest as her expression could show

"Imagine how impressed he'd be if he saw you doing your best even against weaker teams, I'm sure he'll love you even more"

Nagi's mind drifted to all the cuddles and gaming sessions you would give her if she impressed you, so she decided to stand up and face rei

"OK I'll do it"

".........wait really?"

"Yeah, for y/n"

"Oh.....ok.......it was that easy?"

"What?"

"Nothing"

"OK.......do you think y/n would be more impressed if I did a bicycle kick or if I trap the ball really cool like usual?"

"I....don't know, just see during the game"

"Hm, I'll probably do both"

"OK, so put on the jersey and let's go"

"Oh........can you help me find it?"

".....isn't it in your bag?"

"Yeah......can you help me find it?"

"You.....you don't know where it is?"

"To be honest, I just took my phone out of it and threw it somewhere, I forgot where"

".............."

After a while of searching for nagi's bag (while the girl in question did absolutely nothing to help) rei found it thrown under one of the benches with most of the content spilled out of it so she just took the jersey that was nearby and gave it to her friend

"Oh thanks"

"It's.....nothing just put it on"

"......can you help me?"

".......what?"

"Can you help me put it on?"

".......if you tell me y/n helps you put your clothes on I swear i'll-"

"Why are you making it sound like such a big deal? He already saw all of my body"

"Yeah ok but.......why?"

"Putting clothes on is-"

"Such a hassle?......nevermind it's my fault for asking"

".....so are you gonna-"

"No"

The lazy genius sighed and finally started to put the jersey on. When she was finished, she looked at rei and gave her a thumbs up

"Finally. Let's go-......."

"Is something wrong?"

"......that's not your jersey is it?"

".....what?"

"Look it's so tight, the number on the shorts is not even yours"

Nagi looked down at her body and noticed what her friend was talking about

"Oh yeah......this is y/n's"

"......what?"

"The number, it's y/n's"

"....and why was y/n's jersey in your bag?"

"Probably cause it's actually his"

"I.......I won't ask anymore questions, just go switch jerseys"

"......can I not? It would be such a ha-"

"Please nagi just go"

"........fine"

Nagi went outside of her locker room and into yours, where she found you talking with some other teammates and approached you

"Oh hey nagi what are you-"

"Give me your jersey"

".......what?"

"We switched, this is yours"

"Oh did we? Sorry"

"It's not your fault, can you help me take this off though......please?"

"Oh ok"

You looked at your other friends for a bit and awkwardly told them to look away which they did, so you helped nagi put her clothes on, which she rewarded you for with a cheek kiss, and put yours on too

"OK we're done now"

"Cool"

"Let's go"

"Yeah......thanks, I don't know what I'd do without you"

"It's nothing sei, I would do any for you"

"....me too....as long as it's not too much of a hassle"

You laughed a bit and kissed her forehead as she held your hand while walking through the door

Fem!reo mikage

"Can you believe it? She continued hitting on him even after he told her he was taken"

".............."

"I swear every time y/n and I hang out there's some girl wanting to get with him, I get he's hot but he's mine!"

"............"

"Hey nagi, are you listening?"

".......not really"

Rei sighed and looked back at nagi, who was completely focused on her phone as always

"Whatever"

She grabbed a hair tie and looked at herself in the mirror before starting to style her hair in a bun

"By the way, do you know any restaurants nearby? I wanted to bring y/n somewhere nice tonight"

"Oh, can I come too?"

".....it's a date, like for me and y/n.....only"

"Oh.....I can bring my boyfriend too, then we can have a double date"

".......You're doing this just because I'm going to pay and you want free food right?"

"....yeah, you always say yes when I ask you for money to spend on dates anyway, this shouldn't be different"

"I guess.....fine you can come just don't disturb me and y/n too much"

Nagi hummed in approval and cheered a bit because she got another kill in the game.

"Yay! Kill streak! I think I got a new record of kills"

"Hehe, that's nice"

When she finished styling her hair rei looked one last time in the mirror and turned back towards nagi

"OK I'm ready, we can go now"

Her friend nodded, and the two of them started walking towards the field, stopping once they saw chigiri stretching on the sideline

"hi chigiri"

"Oh, hi nagi, rei, what's up?"

"Nothing much.....y/n isn't here yet?"

"No, he said he couldn't find.....his jersey, hey rei do you mind turning around?"

"Eh? Why?"

"I wanna check something"

The chameleons girl did as chigiri said and she was met with a sigh coming from behind her

"So that's where it is"

"What?"

"Y/n's jersey, you're wearing it?"

"...............I AM?"

"Yep, I genuinely have no idea how you didn't figure it out before"

"Nagi! You were behind me this whole time, why didn't you say anything?"

Nagi, who had in the meantime sat on one of the benches and started playing again, looked up from her phone slightly to see her friend's angry expression, only to look back down immediately after

"Ah.....it was an accident? I thought it was something you decided together or something like that"

"....and you still didn't say anything?"

The lazy genius simply shrugged as the mikage heir's anger quickly subsided as she was very familiar with nagi's attitude having known her for this long

"I'll just go give this to him"

"Yeah, good idea"

Rei went to the men's locker room, where she found you still looking around for your jersey

".....heyyyy darling....can I tell you something"

"Oh hi rei, sure"

".......I might have actually taken your jersey"

"........I see"

"It was an accident, I'm sorry I don't even know how it happened"

"It's fine, I don't mind"

You took out her own jersey that you found in your bag, and she did the same as you started changing

"How much do you want for the inconvenience?"

"What do you mean?"

"That was probably pretty frustrating. I can pay you back if you want....literally"

"Oh no it's fine"

"If you're worried about me or something don't be, you know I'd spend all my money on you"

"No no you really don't need to"

You pressed a kiss to rei's cheek, which caused the purple haired girl to blush

"All I need is you"

"......fine but tomorrow I'm taking you shopping and you can't say no"

You giggled as you two held hands and started walking forward

"I guess I can't complain about that"

Fem!hyoma chigiri

Everything was relatively chill in the manshine city's women changing room, nagi was on her phone as usual, and rei was watching her play

"Oh look a rare item"

"Ohhhh so lucky"

The two high fived as they focused more on the game......however their focus was broken by an angry chigiri storming out of the bathroom

"OK which one of you took my hair conditioner?"

"......what?"

"It's not in my bag, so one of you must have taken it"

"No I mean, why are you styling your hair before a match, like right before, you already put your jersey on"

"Cause I need to, I can't go there with trashy hair, especially if y/n's there"

"Does he really care that much?"

"Well I do, and I care about the thousands of spectators who will see us, how can we look like the power couple we are if we don't look absolutely stunning?"

".....ok....anyway it wasn't us, my hair is already naturally beautiful-"

"That's debatable at best"

Rei narrowed her gaze at chigiri but continued talking

"And nagi doesn't really....do body care without her boyfriend"

A sigh escaped chigiri's lips as she turned around and went in the bathroom

"Fine I guess I should look more closely"

"Wait chigiri, did you ask prince to change numbers or something?"

"No why?"

"........can you move your hair out of the way?"

"What?"

"I wanna see the name on the jersey you're wearing"

The red panther moved her hair to the right, allowing rei to see the name on the jersey clearly now

"......why.....are you wearing y/n's jersey?"

".....what?"

"Yeah that's his last name"

The red-haired woman quickly took off the jersey to confirm what rei said, and she was disappointed to see it was indeed your jersey

"What? How did-......wait then that probably means that the reason I didn't find my conditioner-"

"Was because you took his bag"

"......I'm gonna go give this back to him.....you two don't you dare say anything about this"

The two girls nodded, and chigiri quickly made her way to the other dressing room (very, very quickly with her speed)

"Hi hyoma, what's wrong?"

"my jersey"

"What do you mean?"

"We switched bags. I'm actually wearing your jersey"

"......oh..sorry for not noticing......I just thought you left your hair products in my bag"

"It's fine, here's yours"

She started to take off her jersey as you did the same

"And here's yours"

You two put everything back on and double checked just to make sure it was the right ones

"Seems like everything's OK now"

"Yeah, sorry again"

"I told you it's ok......but can you give me my conditioner now I need it"

"Why? Your hair always look perfect"

"It's because I always look perfect to you"

"Yeah because you are"

"Then let me show you how perfect these legs are"

"..........."

"I-I mean how fast they are. I mean speed and you knew it"

"Yeah, yeah don't worry"

[cherryblossms]

it only made sense, to garam at least, that he'd worry about disturbing anybody's peace. he was my boyfriend and i had to worry about annoying him. the words garam thought but didn't dare actually verbalizing. he'd already eluded to axel enough, he didn't want to directly speak of him and risk ruining the air between himself and angel right now. he was also afraid of angel possibly being hurt by the fact that garam was thinking about his ex in a moment like this. "just tell me if whatever i'm doing bothers you." at least if he found out early on, he'd know how not to behave going forward. "and i mean anything. if i snore too much when i'm asleep or if i chew too loud, talk too loud, or breathe too loud." the last one was a habit he only found himself doing when his focus was intense while gaming, something he had to break himself out of since it was commented on a lot pretty early on in his career. but outside of his fanbase, nobody else had found the sound of his breathing to be bothersome. it took him a moment to gather the courage to drop his hands from his face and, when he did, his cheeks were so red. he was beyond just embarrassed, especially after angel continued to question him. everything after good boy essentially went in one ear and out the other without his brain having the chance to process what was said to him. he was only pulled back to reality once the other tugged at his earlobe, a soft moan leaving his lips snaping his attention. then most of angel's words began to register, his brows beginning to furrow as he instantly moved his hands to his lap to provide himself what little coverage his hands could give. "you can't say things like that to me." he whispered, shaking his head. it just wasn't fair, anybody could get garam to do whatever they wanted with the smallest amount of appraisal. even if it wasn't necessarily in a sexual or physical context. his gaze dropped down to his own lap, brows furrowing even more as he grew frustrated with himself for getting turned on by those words; good boy. he really did want to eat breakfast with angel, he wanted to go out shopping together and just spend the day with him. but his body wanted something more than that, more than what was already given to him. garam looked back to up angel, doing all that he could not to look as desperate as felt he was to be touched by the man again. "i don't want you to think i'm some sex addict or anything like that, because i'm-i'm not." but how could anybody believe that when angel had gotten him hard, in some sense, three times now in less than a twenty four hour timeframe. maybe it was because it'd been such a long time since he felt excited for something as simple as physical touch, knowing that there was true emotion behind angel's words and his actions weren't driven by the desire to come by any means. "you've always been so careful with me, you've always gone out of your way to care for me. how am i not supposed to be turned on by you? emotionally—" he felt guilty, knowing that others could see that garam used angel emotionally before he had the chance to realize it, himself, "i'm so sorry for having done this to you. i mean, i'm sure you've had lovers in the mean time but waiting and watching the things i've done, how i've behaved, who i associated with... i'm not a good boy, i shouldn't be rewarded when i've been so bad." he slowly moved his hands away from his lap, letting them fall from his thighs to rest on top of the mattress on each side of his calves; his fingers grasping at the material below them. "we should eat," he blurted out, thinking if he changed the subject quick enough, angel wouldn't have a chance to process what he'd said and respond. "you're hungry and i'm hungry. and-and there's a lot i have to buy and i don't want to be out too late... you know, just in case." the last thing he wanted was to risk running into axel and have their day together ruined.

Hearing Garam ask him to join the hunt for warmer socks was enough to put him at ease. What Angel didn’t expect was the man’s full confession. He sat there quite with a blank stare. But because he wasn’t listening but more from shock. All of this was going on in his mind? Angel thought himself unable to fathom how Garam even functioned with all of that going on. However, he stayed completely silent until he seemed the man ran out of breath from his gasping. Angel’s eyes softened as he leaned forward and kissed the other man’s hands. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clear about my feelings. Each word followed with a soft kiss to Garam’s hands. “Since when do you care about annoying me? Garam you are my best friend first before anything else. That will never change.” Angel smiled as he moved closer looking at the way the man was sitting. Angel always found him cutest like this. So flustered and unsure, “I don’t regret what we did Garam. Not right now. I’m still working through some things. Some days I’m okay and some days it hard to get out of bed. But what I want you to focus on is how I feel about you. That is what I was trying to say earlier.” He continued wanting to cover everything Garam said. Angel wanted to show him he was listening and took all his words seriously. “Well baby, you made a rule and I made a rule. We have plenty of time to work up to that. What a beautiful mess you would make. Don’t be scared I’ll never do anything you are not comfortable with. And I’ll never do anything I don’t want to do. I appreciate you being worried for me but I’m a big boy. I’ll speak up for myself” Angel cooed putting his face inches from Haram’s hands, “please look at me baby, I want to see your handsome face” he whispered kissing his hands once more. Angel smirked as he leaned closer to the other man’s ear, “So you thought about me? What exactly did you picture Garam? You don’t think I want more of you? Hearing you moan for me, like the good boy you are?” He was having too much fun with this. How could he not get turned on by the way Garam was talking. However, he pulled back when the man invited him once again out with him shopping, “Tour deer really caught me by surprise. Just warn me next time they are freezing. But I would love to help you shop for anything you need. It’s still early we can cuddle some more…or you know I could go another round?” He grinned as he playfully bit the man’s ear lobe before pulling away. “After I can cook for us and we head out shopping. How does that sound?”

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 101

"i can't believe you, jack."

several weeks had passed since you last saw him. it had taken you a few days to even answer his texts; you refused to reply whenever he brought up this thing going on between you two or wanted to meet you, but you felt too guilty not to answer him when he asked how you were doing and how school was going. you knew he genuinely cared for you, and even if you wanted to just disappear into thin air, you felt too bad to do it.

you told him when you aced your recent exam, and he told you about how bad his games had gone. the conversations were never long, nor filled with much emotion, but at least it was something to jack. he missed you like crazy, and of course you missed him, too. and you felt horrible for pulling away, but this was how it had to be.

it hurt so much – but that pain was nowhere near what you felt when you got sent that video yesterday.

a video filmed by a friend of yours at a night club in town, of a girl and a boy dancing – well, of a girl rubbing her ass up against a boy's crotch, with the boy's hands on her hips holding her close. when the video zoomed in, and the couple turned around a little, the face of the boy was suddenly clear as day.

of course it was jack, and of course he looked like he was having the time of his life. of course you'd never even seen this girl before, and of course she looked hotter than supermodel.

you never before thought you'd be capable of yelling at him. you usually were never one to raise your voice, and jack was such a kindhearted soul that even when you'd had little arguments before, everything had always been calm. but now, it was all just too much, and all of your emotions from the past months – screw that, years – came crashing down at once.

jack leaned back against the counter behind him, his hands digging deep into his pockets. "what is it you can't believe? why are you so worked up over this?" he asked. "i'm not even your boyfriend."

you shook your head. "still, jack. it hurts. we spend so much time together, we kiss and we fuck and-"

"and i'm still not your boyfriend!" he exclaims at this, followed by a groan. "i'm sorry if i sound harsh, but it's the truth, isn't it? besides, you haven't wanted to see me in weeks. don't go around acting like i can't do what i want to do."

you paused, having no idea what to answer. he was right, you knew he was – so why was it so painful?

jack spoke up again. "i think it's great that it hurts, because it shows that you care." your eyebrows shot up. "i want you to care. because i care about you." he stepped forward to where you were sitting on the chair by his kitchen island; a big, warm hand landing on your shoulder. "you know i what more than what he had. i want to be your boyfriend, there's never been a doubt in my mind about that."

you looked down at your feet dangling past the footrest, a deep sigh leaving your lips. "i… i can't."

"please, just give me a chance. i won't disappoint you."

you never thought you'd have someone like jack hughes – the tall, rough, muscular sports type of man – holding you by your shoulders and begging for you to love him. maybe that was a part of why you felt this way? because it all felt too surreal, too good to be true? because you knew there was something else lurking in the shadows?

"it doesn't work like that." moments ago, you were practically bursting with emotions, yelling at him and cursing him out in your mind. but now, you felt empty. your voice was so quiet he could barely hear you. "i've been with guys who made promises to me, who still hurt me and broke me, and-"

jack couldn't help but cut you off again. "but none of those guys were me! haven't i proved to you what kind of man i am?" he sighs – he's worked up, too, but he tries his best not to let his feelings take over. "it doesn't make any sense."

it wasn't until his hand landed on your cheek and he tilted your face up to look at him that you snapped. "i know it doesn't make any sense, and i know it's not rational, but it's who i am." a tear slipped down your cheek before you could even register that your eyes had started welling up. "i'm sorry but i can't control it, and i hate it. i hate how every time i get close to someone, i pull away. i hate how every time you look at me with that lovestruck expression, i feel like i don't deserve it. i hate…"

jack's thumb brushed away a few of your tears and traced along your features, and the action had you falling even further apart.

"i want to do it. i want to just dive straight into it, head first," you took a deep breath. "but it's so scary."

"well, shit, i'm scared too! it's not like i'm some super experienced relationship expert. but we'll have each other." now his other hand reached for your face too, cradling you as he stared deep into your soul. it was like he wanted to convince you, like he wanted to prove to you that everything will be fine.

but despite all of his efforts, you still couldn't find it in yourself to promise him anything. you weren't sure if you could stay true to your word if you said that you could give him what he needed, what he wanted, what he deserved. "jack, i-" the pain crashed through your body in yet another heartbreaking wave as you pulled your face away, slipping out of his grasp. "i can't."

he didn't bother following after you when you retreated to the hallway; he knew it was to no avail. he hadn't moved a single inch when you looked back into the kitchen after having slipped into your coat and shoes, and you couldn't find it in your heart to say anything. no apologize or consolation could be enough to soothe the burning sensation in his chest.

[chiasaaa]

— mean it || part i

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: loving someone as cruel as itoshi sae has to be the worst thing that ever happened to a hopeless romantic like you. years of pining over your childhood crush finally comes to an end, or does it?

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when itoshi sae left japan, he not only left his family and a broken promise with his little brother. no, he left a person that carved a huge hole in his heart when he did so. who would have known that japan's pride and joy had fallen for your charm? certainly not you, because you have been vocal about your interest to the auburn-haired boy since you were six, and he never bothered reciprocating your feelings. whenever you ask him how he feels about you, he never answers and would very much rather deadpan instead. his one true love is football, and there is nothing that will stop him from reaching his dreams. he will do whatever it takes to become the greatest; shifting his dream from being the world's greatest striker to the world's greatest midfielder is proof of that dedication. he didn't care what he has to do to get there. sae will continue playing football even after his legs break.

it was something you admired greatly about him. it was natural for both of you to become friends when you've met, given that you share the same interest. at some point, you both also shared the same dream of becoming the world's best striker.

it seems like only one of you has reached such doors of opportunity as you were finally scouted by re al madrid's women's division as a striker—a centre forward to be specific. you were seventeen when you were scouted, and through the one year you've worked with re al, you have never once caught a glimpse of itoshi sae. even so, you didn't mind. you were there for your dream, not to catch up to sae. it was one of the things that he came to admire about you.

since he was a kid, he had always known about your childish feelings for him. at first, he thought it was annoying and considered cutting you off if you prove to be a hindrance. he tried to see just how far you'll go for him—to please him. however, when he realized that you don't use your feelings as a reason to excuse his bad behavior, he couldn't help but feel gravitated towards you. it began to scare him, how you suddenly have control over his actions and plagued his thoughts, so he left.

it wasn't until your match against wc barcha that your paths have decided to reunite you two. the championship game for nationals is today, and the same stadium was used for both men's and women's games. right after sae took a shower and freshened up, their team captain informed them that they will be watching the women's match. though, it wasn't needed. the fact that it's the championship game and their team is in the game for the first time in five years was enough for the reigning champions of the men's division to watch.

that was how he ended up sitting with the rest of his team at the very front of the stadium, eyes wide by the slightest inch at the sight of you standing proud within the starting lineup as the match began its opening ceremony.

you have certainly changed. your previous long raven hair now had streaks of auburn in them and seemed longer than ever. contrary to how you used to tie your hair in french braids, you now tie it securely in a single high ponytail. you have grown taller, though he still towers over your figure. your clean nails that you religiously took care of now had gel polish in them.

and most importantly, the hideous neon pink cleats you used to play with are now replaced by a powder blue shade—your favorite. he would be lying if he said it didn't bother him, knowing fully well that those neon pink cleats were a gift from him, but he fooled himself to think that your shoe size simply changed over time and you can't use them anymore.

still, why did you have to change the color if you once said that neon pink reminds you of him?

throughout the entire match, his eyes remained on you. the fact that you're playing in a completely different level now made him feel like he never knew who you were at all. you have exceeded most strikers already, even within the male's division. playing against guys your entire life proved advantageous in the pro league because it certainly shows when you're put up with the rest of the lukewarm idiots. they all seemed like headless chickens compared to you.

you were graceful, yet destructive. that addictive yet terrifying feeling began to creep in from behind again, and it made him feel nauseous. you're one terrifying being, with that way you're able to win over people's hearts so effortlessly.

"and re al's shooting star delivered the decisive goal! for the first time in five years, re al has reclaimed the throne as spain's champions!"

having both teams win called for a big celebration for the entire re al team. it didn't help sae when you were invited as the opening speaker for the party. throughout your speech, his eyes never left your figure. a sense of pride welled in his chest now that he sees you holding three golden trophies you've most definitely earned. it was proof of your hard work. you were madrid's shooting star—the one person they needed to finally win and snatch the crown back to represent spain in the international league.

it wasn't until the end of your speech that your eyes have finally spotted sae in the crowd, your breathe caught up in your throat the moment you realized it was him. leonardo luna even had to assist you down the stage, mainly due to your long evening gown, for you to finally snap back into reality.

he is here.

quite funny how you first had to win nationals just for you to get a glimpse of him. now that he really is in the same room as you, you don't know how to react anymore.

should you hug him? wait, he might not even remember you. maybe a hello would do and not scare him away. what if he doesn't remember you, though?

you've been thinking about it too much at the balcony with a glass of wine twirling between your fingers that you failed to notice how you accidentally manifested said man by your side.

"finally decided to show up, huh?"

it took you by surprise, feeling his gentle breath against your ear as he spoke. you jumped back in slight surprise, and it was thanks to his quick reflexes that he avoided an unwanted accident by catching the glass you just dropped. he hands it back to you with a slight chuckle, finding it amusing that behind the new you is the same clumsy girl he once played football with.

"sae," you utter in disbelief. "f-funny seeing you here."

"huh? you know i play for re al."

"really? couldn't have known! haha..."

then, it was awkwardly silent. you quietly sipped on your drink as you actively avoided his gaze, finding interest in the pitch black emptiness they call the sky.

"i was waiting for you." he finally said, breaking the silence like shattered glass. "i knew you could do it."

"it took awhile," you slowly relaxed into the conversation until you're comfortable enough to start talking about your journey—how you always had him in your thoughts whenever you train. he painfully reminded you of your silly antics as a child crushing over him. how you promised to him that you'll one day go down on one knee at the centre of the football stadium to ask for his hand in marriage.

you couldn't help but feel hopeful now that he's mentioned all of it in one night, finding that maybe itoshi sae isn't completely against the idea of being yours. what else could it mean, right? he was the first to approach and congratulate you for reaching this milestone. he was the first to strike up a conversation for the both of you to finally catch up. he was the first to stir the storytelling to the silly romances you both shared before.

the feeling only intensified when he asked you to ditch the party with him and go someplace instead, hiding your adventures into the mystery of the night.

maybe, just maybe, itoshi sae wants you just as much as you've been wanting him all these years.

[fallendev0tionvn]

how would clive behave around a mc that's just as attached as he is with them? and on top of that, they still keep a handcrafted plushie of him, despite the fact they had fallen off. when they were younger they've even taken up crocheting, just so they can craft something very dear to them. a reminder how things weren't messy back then.

horrible sketch cause I don't know how to draw crochet plushies.😭

Clive had always craved this connection and closeness with you- the moment you match his energy? greedy.

He won't even hide it anymore, every gesture you make, no matter how small, turns into a sign you're as devoted as he is. So when he finds out you've taken up crocheting, and even made a plushie of him, it's like his last bits of reason perish.

At first, he'll try not to say anything, but silence never lasts with Clive. Days later, the need to ask is bubbling to the surface, he'll corner you in that usual soft way of his, quiet curiosity masking something deeper, his jealousy, his fears.

"You didn't make one of these for anyone else right?" His voice is light, teasing, but he can't hide the tinge of insecurity bleeding through. "I mean- it's just me yeah?"

When you tell him the truth, that you learned to crochet to make something dear to you, him. The poor guy will freeze for a good minute, without a say, he'd grab your hand, tugging you to the corner of his room. A corner you've never paid much attention to, you've always thought it was just a door that lead to his closet maybe.

There you see it.

Paintings, dozens of them, some in soft colors, others raw, visceral, but every single one is you, his muse.

Shelves lined in sculptures of you, portraying expressions you were never aware of doing, even a ball jointed doll with careful- delicate features, your features. Clive rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed. "I wasn't gonna show you this.."

"Like ever." he pauses "It started at the playground, we've never even spoken to each other back then. And you probably don't remember, but you loved going on the (your favorite playground game)- I didn't know what I was doing. You were this spark, and I wanted to keep it alive. I thought if I'd put it on paper, it would last forever." He admitted, turning back to the collection, his fingers brushing against a small clay figure of you he must've made ages ago.

"It became a coping mechanism. A way to keep you close, when I thought I'd lost you for good." He swallows loudly, his hands trembling as they curl into fists. "Now that you're here again..I can finally breathe, and I don't have to rely on these anymore" He glances at you, his gaze vulnerable as he steps closer.

“So yeah, I made all of this, and you have your little plushie of me…” His lips twitch, something between a smirk and a genuine smile.

"But don't think for a second that means you're off the hook. I'm the real thing, don't start giving more attention to the plushie and we won't have a problem."

[atreeinastorm]

There was a follow-up to this, that MaRo has not responded to, or at least hasn't yet: "I can't tell if you & many of the commenters are misunderstanding my point or just purposefully making it about UB. My point is about trust. 

WOTC has had several years of problems and controversy: OGL, pinkertons, Arena Direct, Plagarism, 30th anniv, quality control problems, insufficient testing, etc. On top of the more minor divisive decisions, and poor communication about all of it. 

As-is I can't in good conscience support this company. Will you do better? Will you even try? I don't care how profitable your latest thing is, or if I can sac spongebob on ashnods altar for mana to cast buggs bunny. I care about if you have any integrity left in the company. Do you? You've certainly not shown it these last few years of so.

We'll see, I guess. Until then I'm just going to only use proxies. It's more ethical than giving any money to wotc right now. At least the game can exist without wotc. "

---- I don't care about UB specifically. I even said in my first message to him that I mostly agreed with the decision to put them into standard, and thought they were a net positive if they brought new players into the game. I was taking issue with how they handled the annuncement and the lack of communication about something they reassured people in 2021 was not happening, which has clearly been a divisive decision for at least some of the game's players. I focused on that because it was a minor enough issue that I was hoping to get a real answer about the company's unwillingness to communicate with the players, without it becoming a corporate say-nothing statement about the more impactful problems they've been having repeatedly for the last 4+ years. My question was not about UB and MaRo's anser here completely neglects the actual point. Just putting this here because I doubt he'll respond to this, and I don't want people to continue to act like this is just me whining about UB. I don't like UB but I don't care enough about it on it's own to do anything more than not buy it and roll my eyes at it. I care about the company's years of ever more predatory and greedy business practices that have left me unable to buy official WOTC printed cards without feeling like I'm supporting the ongoing unethical behaviour. Just play with proxys. WOTC needs players more than players need WOTC. The game can exist without them, and it might be better off that way at this point.

Re: My last comment about consumer trust - It's difficult to take you at your word about it when you make vague statements like "The players spoke", who? Until this was announced, none I know said they wanted UB it. The responses to this saying "Data shows" or "Players want" don't mean anything if that data is a secret. From what little is public, it just looks like WOTC saw dollar signs and went back on their statement. Being more transparent about these decisions/the reasons for it could help.

The best selling booster release, Commander decks, Secret Lairs, - all Universes Beyond (and the vast majority of buyers - existing Magic players). The sets that score the highest in market research - Universes Beyond. The upcoming sets that have the highest social media engagement - Universes Beyond.

Universes Beyond is killing it in every metric we use to measure overall player happiness.

It is our job to pay attention to what players want. You, again the collective “you” representing the totality of players, is quite vocal. They really like Universes Beyond.

That is why we are doing so much of it.

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror.............a series

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (named, but not visually described besides hair length)

[In progress]

[ Part I ] [ Part II ] [ Part III ] [ Part IV ] [ Part V ] [ Part VI ] [ Part VII ] [ Part VIII ] [ Part IX ] [ Part X ] [ Part XI ] [ Part XII ] [ Part XIII ] [I'll add more if I need to]

Macrinus has plans. Layers and layers of plans. He thinks he's found his perfect instrument in the form of Letha and recruits her to his cause. She has reason enough to bring vengeance upon the twin Emperors of Rome, but once she falls under the ever-watchful gaze of Emperor Geta, her will folds. Foiling an assassination attempt, Letha becomes Geta's new fixation. Still, Macrinus's aspirations are halted for no one. Can Letha weather the wrath of Macrinus? And what would happen if Geta knew the truth of her role in this dangerous game?

Or so it might say on the blurb on the back if you picked it up off the shelf. Born of the way I couldn't stop thinking about Geta after seeing GII. Also, I'm a sucker for Denzel Washington so Macrinus is definitely around. I hope this is halfway decent, I've spent a lot of time on it. If only for myself, I suppose.

This is a series, tentatively 13 parts? It could be longer if I can't rein myself in. Some parts are much longer than others because I didn't want to divide it up. Mostly from our character's POV, but occasionally we slip into Geta's mind. Even Macrinus's, where necessary. I try to make it as clear as possible when perspective shifts.

Letha is our character. She has an "origin" but I was careful to not specify what region she originates from. You can choose for yourself. I have gone out of my way to avoid describing her physically besides the fact that she has long hair and female body features/anatomy. If I missed something, please let me know. Hopefully she feels accessible to most. I just couldn't do the (y/n) thing for a series like this, or avoid using a name. It flows better. Thanks for understanding.

This is heavily modified from the movie. I really just pulled out the entire Acacius/Lucilla/Lucius main plot and went with the super interesting (to me) sub plot of the twin emperors and the man who wants to tear Rome down. Plus Letha, of course.

Historical inaccuracies abound, I'm sure. I did my best but for certain things I couldn't find sources that weren't paywalled peer-reviewed journals or I didn't know how to begin to look for information about. Still, I tried to keep it within reason. I apologize in advance.

I have my own read on the twins and it might be different from yours, but I hope you like it just the same. Besides enjoying the arena and wishing their enemies death, I didn't get the vibe that they were particularly violent, at least not in the five? days we see them. Well, they just deserved better. I don't know that I'm going to give them that here, but I'm gonna try.

Anyways, thanks for reading all this. Hope you like it.

(Moodboard by moi. I spent a long time on it for no real reason, I'm only using it here. It's just fun. I also have a playlist, but I don't think the songs necessarily obviously inspired anything. It's hard to relate them to Ancient Rome. But if you want to know what it was, I'd be more than happy to share it.)

[cheshireliam]

"The Fairytale Keeper's Final Assesment" Story Event: Premium END

Liam Evans

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

<< Liam’s POV >>

Liam: An explanation about…?  

(What could it be? I've explained most of the things about Crown’s castle, and introduced as many members as possible…) 

(I don't understand… this is about Kate, and yet I still can't understand. I…) 

Just as my thoughts reached a dead end, Kate gently cupped my face between her hands. 

Liam: … Kate…? 

Kate: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to criticise you. 

Kate: So please don’t look so hurt. 

Liam: B-but… it’s my fault for not explaining enough… 

Kate: It’s not your fault at all! 

Kate: … If anything, missing out that explanation is exactly what you would do. 

Kate kept smiling at me, she didn't seem to care about the missing explanation. 

Kate: I’m talking about you, Liam.

Liam: Huh…?

Kate: The number one thing that matters to me, the one explanation I wanted to hear the most, is about you. 

Kate’s words made me reflect on everyone that had happened today. 

[ Flashback ]

Kate: Um… when I opened my eyes, the man standing in front of me was so dazzlingly handsome, I was caught off guard.

…

Kate: Liam, do you mind it when Jude asks you for such favours? 

…

Kate: Fufu, you two seem very close. Have you been like this since the beginning?

…

Kate: What song do you like, Liam? 

[ Flashback End ]

Kate’s interest was always directed at me.

She kept wanting to know more about me. 

Kate: You showed many great things about Crown, but… 

Kate: You’re a part of Crown that’s wonderful too, you know?

Liam: ah… 

Kate: Your kind personality as a guide will surely be a prominent trait to any new members… 

Kate: But I thought it’d be nice if they could know more about you too. 

Kate: I want others to know the good things about the man I love… 

Kate: … That’s kind of biased of me, isn’t it?

Kate: Even so, this is my honest opinion.

Liam: …

Liam: Thanks… Kate. 

(I was so desperate to make Kate stay, I failed to see it.) 

(I love Crown… and I’m part of what makes Crown great too.) 

(... Once again, Kate has helped me to realise something important.) 

Kate: … One more thing, Liam. It’s about time you told me, isn't it?

Liam: Tell you about what? 

Kate: The real reason for the tour! 

Kate: I realised it from how Harrison and William were acting. 

Kate: The tour wasn’t meant for “future new members”, am I right to say that? 

Liam: I… I can’t say it. 

Kate: … I’m worried, Liam. I feel like you’re trying to bottle everything up. 

Kate: Can you share it with me? 

… And so, I told Kate everything. 

…

Kate: Fairytale Keeper assessment… 

Liam: I want you to stay in Crown, Kate. 

Liam: That’s why I planned the tour to remind you of all the good things about Crown. 

Liam: I wanted you to feel like you’d want to stay here…

Kate: So that’s what this whole thing is about…

Liam: … What do you think? Do you still want to stay in Crown? 

Kate: Of course! Please let me continue being your Fairytale Keeper. 

Liam: Thanks, Kate. 

Seeing Kate nod so firmly filled my heart to the brim with joy. 

Overwhelmed by my emotions, I pulled Kate into a hug.

Kate: … Oh, Liam. 

Liam: Mm, what is it? 

Kate: I know that the purpose of today’s tour was to make Crown appeal to me, but… 

Kate: Your explanations were very thorough and well done. I think we should make it a real thing for new members that might join us in the future. 

Kate: It’d be a shame if I was the only one who got to experience the tour. 

Liam: Then I’ll have to make some changes to the tour and add an introduction for you. 

Kate: How will you explain it? 

Liam: … I’ll say that Kate’s my personal Fairytale Keeper. 

Liam: She has an adorable smile, her words are kind, and she smells nice and makes me feel at ease whenever I hug her. 

Liam: She’s the little robin who makes me feel like life is worth living, by bringing me joy every day. 

Liam: — Kate is the love of my life. 

Our passionate gazes met, and our lips came together as though drawn to each other. We fell onto the bed holding each other in our arms. 

The agreement form I’d been so eager to fill in would have to wait till tomorrow afternoon to be submitted to Victor. 

…

Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement 

Here, Kate agrees to continue working as a Fairytale Keeper. 

Because I can’t imagine a future without her. 

— Liam Evans. 

…

Victor: Okie dokie, I’ve confirmed your submission. 

Liam: Thanks, Victor. Please pass on my regards to Her Majesty too. 

Victor: … Oh? Where are you rushing off to? 

Victor: I recently obtained some delicious tea and was about to prepare some…

Liam: Sorry, I’m heading off for another tour with Kate. 

Victor: Tour? I thought that was done already? 

Liam: Fufu… actually, Kate’s the one giving the tour this time to introduce my good qualities. 

Liam: She said “the one who least understands Liam’s strengths is Liam himself”. 

Victor: What a wonderful tour! You must tell me all about it afterwards. 

I gave Victor a nod and dashed off to our meeting spot. 

…

(I’m going to keep doing my best from now on… so that I can welcome my tomorrows with you and everyone else.) 

(So that the story we weave together won't be seen as a “tragedy” or “farewell tale”.)

(Until the very end… I pray that Kate and I will find happiness together.) 

…

<< Kate’s POV >>

A few days after the tour by Liam, I received a royal decree from Her Majesty.

Kate, I have heard of your excellent work. As always, I thank you for your efforts. 

Now, I have a task I wish to entrust to you, whom I know I can rely on.

I want you to assess if Liam, who bears a curse, is a suitable member of Crown. 

Note: Please take into account the cause and effect of his fits when making your decision.