#i will commit to the bit. It's not about winning. it's about sending a message

[natdafat]

I don't think I have or will ever do somthing in a game because it's the most optimal/top teir/current meta.

There is only one reason why I will do something in a game, and that is for

The shits and giggles.

If the vibes ain't there, I ain't touching it with a 10 meter stick

Couldn't care if a wepaon build can kill players at max level in on hit or if a character has incredible frame data. If it's not fun I don't care for it.

I'm aware of course of all this information. it doesn't mean I'll use it in any other way of knowing how to deal with it.

I hate when all you see is the boring meta, and no one is just having fun with it

[lovezbrownies]

Mockingbird. (Fem!Yandere Pop Idol x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

(Coudln't pick between making her an american pop idol or a k-pop idol so i made her both! She's half American and half Korean and makes variety solo music while in her band :))

Synopsis: While trying to earn your paycheck as a Audio Tech, you manage to catch the eyes of the magnetic, Grammy winning Yuna Claire.

Under the spotlight, Yuna Claire was perfection—every note, every glance choreographed for the adoration of thousands. But when her eyes landed on you, their fire softened into something sharper, something that burned with a dangerous kind of focus. You’d noticed her at first only because of Yuna's fame, the admiration people lavished on her so excessive it was hard to ignore. It was after a concert that she’d approached you, alone in the backstage crowd, moving with a deliberate pace that only you seemed oblivious to.

She’d started with a polite introduction, a charming laugh. Fans had parted around Yuna, gaping as if she were a goddess, while you gave her a casual nod, barely glancing her way. If anything, you’d appeared more captivated by the band posters on the walls. Yuna wasn’t deterred, though. Instead, she leaned in, her words silken, inviting you to a private after-party. Her words were sugar, her gaze hypnotic—but something didn’t feel quite right. And still, her allure was undeniable, almost magnetic.

But you had your own reasons for resisting. The world of flashing lights and obsessive fans didn’t appeal to you, and the drama of idol life felt exhausting just to observe. You'd given her a nonchalant smile, declining politely, leaving Yuna alone in a corridor of confused and shocked onlookers.

Yuna didn’t give up. For weeks after that, her messages appeared daily, each one a bit more intense than the last, though always wrapped in a veneer of politeness. She’d send short, casual notes about her day, like Yuna was trying to convince you of her “normal” side. Then came the carefully crafted photos, her smile dazzling, eyes dark with something unsettling. Still, Yuna knew just how to tread the line between flirty and forward, between coy and committed.

But you didn’t respond, letting your silence answer in your place.

The silence only seemed to make her bolder.

Soon, small “gifts” began appearing. They were subtle at first: a book you’d mentioned liking left anonymously on your doorstep, a handwritten letter slipped into your bag somehow, perfume lingering on the pages. Then, one day, your phone buzzed, and there was a photo attached—a candid shot of you in a coffee shop, reading. The angle was wrong, too close, taken without your notice. The caption beneath read, “I love how focused you look.”

By now, you’d pieced together Yuna's persistence and presence. She was relentless, yet subtle. You’d heard rumors that she had been known to ghost her managers, locking herself away from the world for weeks until she’d get what she wanted. Those who defied her had been known to face mysterious career setbacks, projects canceled without reason. And now, that ambition—obsession—had found its focus on you.

One evening, you returned home to find Yuna waiting at your door. Her smile was radiant as ever, but there was an edge to her eyes, a desperation swimming beneath her polished exterior. Yuna wore a hoodie, as though trying to blend into your world, her gloved hands hidden in her pockets.

“You haven’t answered me,” Yuna said, her voice soft yet unyielding. “I thought… maybe in person you’d give me a chance.”

Her gaze didn’t waver as you fumbled for your keys, blocking your way. She leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath. “Please,” she murmured, her voice low and nearly pleading, though her eyes told a different story.

“I’m… really not interested,” you managed, keeping your tone polite but firm.

The smile on Yuna's face tightened, her fingers flexing slightly as she stood still, the air heavy with her scent and the weight of her expectations. The seconds stretched, her intense silence trapping you until she finally spoke again, her voice softer, almost disarmingly gentle.

“I can change your mind.” It wasn’t a question, more like a fact she’d already accepted. She shifted, a gleam flickering in her gaze as she stepped closer, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I just need a little more time to show you how much you mean to me. You wouldn’t turn me away if you knew how long I’ve waited to find someone like you.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, her intensity seeping into the air between you. The way Yuna looked at you—as though you were the one person in a world of facades—stirred something uncomfortable, something deeply unsettling. But behind that, a chill ran down your spine, the unease creeping in as her gaze lingered, too steady, too fixed, a promise hidden in the depths of her stare.

“I just… want to be left alone,” you said softly, pushing the words out, feeling the way they seemed to make her freeze for a moment, like she was memorizing the rejection, absorbing it before it sank into her.

And then, Yuna's smile widened, her voice tinged with an eerie, honeyed calm. “You’ll change your mind,” she murmured, pressing a soft hand to your arm. “I have all the time in the world for you. And don’t worry—I won’t be far.”

She let her fingers linger just a moment too long before stepping back, her gaze never leaving yours as she turned, leaving you in the dim hallway. And as she walked away, you felt a cold certainty that this was only the beginning.

A few days passed with nothing more than a tense silence and a faint scent of her perfume lingering in your mind. You tried to shake her memory, the look in her eyes that had lingered too long, the unwavering way Yuna had spoken as if her persistence was just a matter of inevitability. But Yuna had fallen quiet, her presence slipping back into the shadows. You told yourself that maybe she’d taken the hint, that perhaps her attention had finally shifted.

But soon, small traces of her began appearing everywhere. It started innocently enough: a coffee cup with Yuna's autograph on the sleeve sitting outside your door one morning, her signature sharp and elaborate. Then, one day, a bouquet of deep red roses appeared—delivered straight to your office, the envelope tucked inside holding only a single message in her elegant handwriting: You missed my last concert. I was thinking of you the whole time. You could almost hear her voice in the words, soft and unhurried, like a gentle reminder she would never let you go.

Still, you kept your distance, responding to her with only silence, the only reaction you could give that felt remotely safe. But Yuna's gifts continued, each more intimate than the last. One night, you found a plush blanket folded perfectly at your doorstep, the fabric woven with her initials stitched carefully into the corner. You left it there, untouched, but the next morning, it was gone, replaced by a small silver necklace, engraved with the words, Forever yours.

By now, you were beginning to feel Yuna's presence even when she wasn’t there. You couldn’t walk down the street without glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting her to step out from the shadows, her voice low and calm, as if she’d just been waiting for you to look her way. It made the world feel smaller, her influence extending far beyond the glossy photoshoots and stage lights. She wasn’t just a presence on screens or in songs; she was a shadow, creeping into every quiet corner of your life.

It was on a rainy night that she finally crossed the line. You were sitting at your kitchen table, half-awake and nursing a cup of coffee, trying to shake off the unease that had followed you home. There was a knock on your door, soft but unmissable. Your heart dropped, a part of you already knowing who it would be.

Reluctantly, you opened the door, and there she was—drenched from the rain, her hair clinging to her face, lips painted red but smudged slightly as though she’d been rushing. Her eyes were wide and focused, her gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made you want to step back, but she was faster, already inside before you could say anything.

“Why haven’t you answered me?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, but the sharpness was unmistakable. “I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to give you time, but you’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Yuna shook her head, her fingers curling into fists, her gaze brimming with something raw and desperate. “I’ve waited so long to find someone who doesn’t see me as just entertainment,” she continued, her voice wavering slightly. “Everyone else is obsessed with the idea of me, but you… You’re real. You’re the only real thing in my world, and I won’t let you ignore me.”

Her words were laced with a haunting vulnerability, but there was an edge there, a dark gleam in her eye that made your skin prickle. She took a step forward, and before you could react, her hands were on your arms, her grip surprisingly strong as she pulled you close.

“Do you know what it’s like to be worshipped by everyone but feel completely alone?” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. “No one sees me like you do. You can’t understand what that means to me… what you mean to me.”

Her fingers traced along your arms, almost possessively, her gaze dropping to the floor before lifting again, filled with a sorrowful intensity that left you speechless. Her voice softened, barely above a whisper, but there was an unmistakable steel behind her words. “If I have to tear down every wall, break every distance between us, I will. You don’t understand how much I need you. You don’t know what it feels like to need someone the way I need you.”

You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened, her fingers pressing into your skin. There was a flicker of pain in her eyes, like she was fighting something darker, something she couldn’t control. Yuna's voice grew softer, almost pleading, a softness masking something much more intense. “I’ll be everything for you,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to her hands on your arms. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll leave the spotlight if I have to… if that’s what it takes.”

Her words hung in the air, filled with an eerie promise, a willingness to unravel her entire life just for a chance to stay by your side. You could feel her desperation, her obsession suffocating, seeping into the space between you until it felt like a cage.

“Please,” you finally said, managing to pry her hands off, your voice steady though your heart was pounding. “I don’t want this. I never asked for it, and you need to understand that.”

Her face fell, her expression wavering as though the weight of your rejection was physically painful. But after a moment, she smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You think you don’t want this now,” she said softly, her voice gentle, yet chilling. “But you just haven’t given me a chance to show you. I’ll change your mind… I know I will.”

With that, she took a step back, her gaze lingering as she brushed a strand of wet hair from her face. Her voice was soft, affectionate, but there was something almost dangerous in it now, something unyielding. “I’ll be seeing you,” she whispered, almost like a promise, before turning and slipping out into the rain.

As the door clicked shut behind her, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You knew, with an unsettling certainty, that this wasn’t over. And somehow, a part of you wondered if it ever would be.

You sank into a chair, heart pounding as you tried to shake off the echo of her words. But her presence lingered, curling around you like smoke, insistent and inescapable. Every shadow in your apartment seemed to hold her gaze, every sound just outside the door felt like her footsteps waiting to step back into your world.

In the days that followed, it was as if she’d slipped into your life like a shadow cast just beyond reach. It started small again—your phone buzzing with her messages, her number somehow bypassing the blocks you’d put in place. A photo of the view from her hotel room, sent late at night with a message below: This would look better if you were here. Each time you saw her name appear, a tightness grew in your chest, the constant reminder that she was watching, waiting.

When you went out, she was there, always just out of sight but close enough that you could feel her, as if her gaze was a constant weight on the back of your neck. She lingered at cafes, always alone at a distant table, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, never taking them off until you’d met her stare for just a moment too long. She’d nod, that half-smile twisting into something more when she saw the flicker of discomfort on your face.

One evening, you arrived home to find a package waiting for you—an expensive leather-bound journal, its cover engraved with your initials. Inside, she’d filled pages with a mix of her own thoughts, scrawled lyrics, and snapshots of herself, each one accompanied by a handwritten note. Some were simple—Thinking of you—while others were bolder: You belong in my life. The scent of her perfume clung to every page, making it feel as though she’d marked each one as her own. The effect was suffocating.

You tried to shake it off, tried to return to normal. You avoided places she’d visited, tried to take different routes, anything to break free of the feeling of being watched. But no matter where you went, she was always one step ahead, a quiet but relentless shadow. And then one night, as you sat in a dimly lit bar, she slipped into the seat across from you, her presence as bold and unyielding as ever.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you murmured, your voice betraying the surprise and unease that flooded your senses.

She simply tilted her head, a knowing smile curling her lips. “I told you, didn’t I? I’d be seeing you again.” Her fingers drummed on the table, her gaze never leaving yours. “You keep avoiding me, but I know what you really need, what you’re afraid to admit.” Her words were soft, intimate, as though she were whispering them just for you.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you replied, keeping your tone even, though it felt like you were trying to steady yourself on a tightrope. “This obsession… it’s not what you think it is.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes gleamed with a chilling certainty. “You’ve made me wait, given me time to understand what you really need. I know what it’s like to be surrounded by people who don’t see you… but I see everything about you.” She leaned closer, her voice low and steady, her gaze intense enough to hold you in place. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not until you realize that we belong together.”

She pulled out a silver key, placing it on the table between you, a soft clink breaking the heavy silence. “I had a spare made,” she murmured, her voice a ghost of a whisper, as though confessing a secret. “I didn’t want to intrude too much, but… it’s better this way. I don’t have to wait for you to come to me—I can just find you when you’re ready.”

A chill swept through you, and the faint smile on her lips made it clear she knew exactly the effect she was having on you. She reached out, her fingers grazing the back of your hand, her touch soft yet possessive. “You’re afraid now,” she murmured, her eyes softening just enough to mimic tenderness. “But I’m willing to wait. I’m patient. I’ll give you all the time you need… because in the end, you’ll see that I’m the only one who truly understands you.”

Before you could respond, she rose, leaving the key glinting in the dim light between you, a symbol of the door she had already opened, the boundary she’d so carefully, and deliberately, crossed. And as she walked away, you realized, with a sinking certainty, that there was no escaping her.

[badasbebi]

the cupid project ➛ 2/2

part one

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you and your long-term work crush devise a plan to win a company contest. in the end, you wind up going to extreme lengths to commit to the bit

✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, fake dating, videographer reader, bada's extra sweet here, slight friends to lovers

✦ word count: 7k

✦ warnings: isn't proofread. top!bada. bada carries a strap and im not talking about a gun. fingering.

✦ a/n: happy (early) valentine's day!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

When the two of you arrive, the bowling alley is mostly empty, save for the JustJerk employees milling around and a couple of people hanging out in the arcade. The staff member at the counter gives you a warm greeting and directs the two of you to the lane your friends are at. 

You walk up the ramp, scanning the area. The first person you spot is Hoyeon, who is sitting down, chatting with Minho. When she notices the two of you, her lips stretch into a wide smile and she raises a hand to wave. You return the gesture, and the two of you approach her.

"Hi," you smile, plopping down onto the seat next to her. Bada sits next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two women.

"Hey, guys," she greets, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Did we miss anything?" Bada asks.

"Just the boys getting their asses beat by the girls,” Hoyeon says, glancing at the time on her phone.

"Sounds about right," Bada chuckles.

"Hey! We're not that bad!" Minho says, mock-offended.

"Sure, Minho," Hoyeon says, smirking.

"I don't know. I'm not that great either," you admit.

"Really? Why?" Bada questions.

"I guess I'm just not competitive," you shrug.

"Well you’re gonna have to start getting competitive. I can’t let you be the one who lets the boys get a hold on us,” Bada proclaims, nudging you.

“Why not? We could have a tie, then. Wouldn’t that be nice, Minho? For the boys to not be so embarrassingly outplayed all the time?" you suggest, earning a glare from Minho.

"Oh, shut up," he mutters, causing the three of you to laugh.

"Anyway, y/n, if you’re really that bad, don’t worry about it. I’ll help you out,” Bada promises, placing a hand on your knee. You try not to react.

"Okay, cool, thank you.” You nod, trying not to react.

“No problem,” she says, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. You were going to die before tonight was over.

You glance at Hoyeon, who, upon seeing the exchange, smirks. “So, I'm guessing you two are getting along well?"

"Yeah," Bada grins. "I think so."

"That's good," Hoyeon smiles. "I'm glad."

"Thanks," you reply, avoiding her eyes. You haven’t told Hoyeon that you were faking things with Bada. After the pictures dropped, Hoyeon was one of the first people to text you about it, sending you a flurry of messages full of profanities for not having kept her updated. You’re not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth. You know she’d be able to keep a secret.

But a part of you knows that you’re enjoying the pretending a bit too much. If you fess up, it would make the reality of the situation more apparent, and the thought of that is starting to disappoint you more than the idea of losing the prize, altogether. 

“Hey! There you two are,” Youngj shouts, breaking your train of thought. He makes his way toward you, followed by Redllic wearing a sour expression on her face.

Youngj stops in front of your group, placing his hands on his hips. "You're late," he pouts.

"Sorry, boss," Bada apologizes.

"It's okay. You're not the only ones," he says, sighing. “Are you guys gonna come play or what?”

"We're coming, we're coming," Bada replies, grabbing your hand and pulling you up.

“Eat em’ up, girls!” Hoyeon shouts with a whoop, followed by loud booing from Minho.

"Let's go," Bada smiles, squeezing your hand.

"Right," you reply, ignoring the racing of your heart.

Bada drops your hand, walking over to the rack and grabbing a bowling ball. She turns around, giving you a thumbs up and a cute smile. You roll your eyes and she laughs, turning back around.

As she steps forward to take her turn, you catch a whiff of her perfume. It's intoxicating.

The ball rolls down the lane and knocks down nine pins. You close your eyes, resisting the urge to shout. Why was this woman good at everything?

Bada throws the ball again, knocking the last pin over and finishing her frame with a strike. The crowd applauds, and she does a cute little curtsy, which you find unreasonably adorable.

You watch her, transfixed, as she approaches you.

"Good job," you say, a bit too enthusiastically.

"Thank you," she smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Now, it's your turn."

"Alright, alright," you say, making your way over to the ball rack.

You select a red ball, testing the weight. It's heavy, but not too much, and fits comfortably in your hands.

"Remember, use the guide, aim for the middle, and throw slowly," Bada calls, and you nod, not turning around.

You position the ball against your chest, lining up your feet. Then, in one swift motion, you push the ball forward and release it.

The ball lands directly in the gutter, rolling down and colliding with thin air. You groan, watching the screen count up the pins you hit, or lack thereof. Zero. 

"It's okay. Here, I'll show you," Bada says, placing her hands on your shoulders and guiding you over to the middle of the lane.

"First, you want to line up your feet." She says, standing behind you. "And then, you want to position your shoulders and the rest of your body."

You do as she instructs, attempting to focus on her directions.

"Then, the key is to relax and to keep your arm loose. If you tense up, your ball will go all over the place," she says, wrapping her hands around your bicep, massaging it a bit. "So, take a deep breath, and just throw the ball."

You breathe deeply, closing your eyes. You feel the weight of her arms leave your own, and then the weight of her hand on your back.

"Ready?" she whispers, and you nod.

"Okay," she says, patting you, signaling that she has moved.

You exhale, opening your eyes and swinging the ball forward.

You release the ball, and it glides down the lane, knocking eight pins down. You can hear the cheers, but the sound is muffled.

"You did it!" Bada exclaims, hugging you tightly from behind. You laugh, returning her embrace.

"You did most of the work," you say, grinning.

"You would have gotten it without me eventually.”

"Whatever you say," you say, not wanting to argue.

The rest of the night passes by quickly, with you and the girls absolutely destroying the guys, filled with laughter and smiles. By the end of the night, your stomach is sore and your cheeks are aching. When you’re not laughing with one of your coworkers, you’re with Bada, giggling at her jokes, listening to her stories, and being a part of her world. And in the moments when you think nobody is looking, she looks at you and smiles, her eyes soft and sparkling.

Toward the end of the night, you head to the bathroom, fixing your makeup and taking a few breaths. 

After you finish, you exit the restroom, walking over to the bar and ordering a glass of water. As you wait, you notice Bada talking to Redllic, their faces stern and serious. You can't hear what they're saying, but something about their expressions is making you nervous.

"Here's your water," the bartender says, handing you the cup.

"Thank you," you respond, accepting the drink. You take a sip, trying to act casual, but you're not fooling anyone. You knew Bada and Redllic had some kind of romantic history, but you weren’t sure how significant it was.

After a moment, Bada and Redllic separate, heading toward different ends of the bar. Bada makes her way over to you, her features still hardened.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concern filling your tone.

"Yes. I'm fine," she replies, her voice stiff.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you offer.

"Not now. Let’s just have fun, yeah?" she says, a forced smile appearing on her lips.

"Okay," you say, reaching over and squeezing her hand. She squeezes back.

"You know, you look nice tonight," she compliments.

"Thanks," you smile, blushing slightly. "You do, too."

"Thank you," she says, and a small grin replaces her false smile. "So, are you having fun?"

"Yeah, I am," you nod. "A lot of fun. It’s a good thing you dragged me out here, seriously. I’m actually good at bowling now.”

"I mean, you weren’t that bad of a student. It’s not like you needed much help. I’m almost wondering if you faked being bad," Bada teases.

"What?! Of course not. How could you think that?" you exclaim, feigning offense.

"Mhm, I don’t know, you seemed pretty excited when I came to help you out. I think I felt your heartbeat over there," she laughs, poking your arm.

Oh shit. You’ve been found out.

You cross your arms, stubborn and determined to get yourself out of this. "Well, was it necessary to get so handsy with it? Do you do that with all of your students?”

"Only the cute ones," Bada says, staring you down. 

Your heart races. This was escalating quickly. “Well, then, I guess I’ll consider myself lucky."

"You should," she says, a smirk appearing on her lips. “I could get much more handsy, if you wanted me to."

What the hell was going on? As much as you and Bada have casually flirted, it’s never gotten this bold. Whatever happened while you were in the bathroom must have seriously messed with her brain. Maybe she’s experiencing face blindness and thinks you’re someone else.

"Oh, how so?" you ask, playing along, testing the waters.

"I can show you," she says, placing a hand on the side of your face, brushing her thumb across your cheek. She moves her other hand onto your lower back, her grip light, yet firm. You shiver, leaning into her touch.

"What do you think?" she whispers.

"I think I'd like that very much," you admit, feeling her breath on your neck.

"Good," she murmurs, her eyes locking onto yours.

She closes the space between you, and her lips are on yours. She tastes like the fruity wine she had earlier and her chapstick.

You kiss her back, savoring the moment. Warmth and comfort is all around you, enveloping your senses. You pull away after a moment, catching your breath.

"What's wrong?" Bada asks, searching your face.

"Nothing. Everything's perfect," you say, kissing her again.

You don't care anymore. You just want her.

You move your hands, wrapping them around her neck and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Her hands trail up and down your sides, sending goosebumps up and down your arms. She bites your lip gently, and you gasp, tugging on her hair.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you separate. 

Bada exhales, fixing her bangs.

You stare ahead blankly, your mind fuzzy. But, through the haze, you feel a wave of euphoria rush over you, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning. There was not a single part of you that would've guessed that you'd end up kissing Bada Lee upon joining Justjerk. Really, you were surprised she even gave you the time of day in the first place. You'd spent months trying to work up the courage to speak to her, and when the chance came, you almost choked and avoided her, too overwhelmed by the mere thought of speaking to her. But, as the old adage goes, life's full of surprises.

Bada twists her head to the side, staring at something, or someone with a furrowed brow.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you ask, placing a hand on her forearm.

"Oh, nothing. I was just looking out for Redllic," she replies, her frown melting into a small, apologetic smile.

The smile that you were trying to hold back disappears, replaced with a cold, hard pit of dread. "What about her?"

"She's over there," Bada nods, tilting her chin. You don't bother to turn to look. "You know that conversation you saw us have? She came up to me and accused us of pretending to get together for the money. Said there was no way we actually got together that fast. I, of course, denied it. Hopefully that kiss will shut her up."

"Oh. That makes sense. Sorry for not being more helpful," you apologize, your voice coming out hollow.

"Don't be," she says, her words rushed. "I didn't tell you about it because I didn't wanna worry you. But, we're in this together, right?"

"Yeah, definitely," you say, attempting to ignore the lump in your throat.

"That's good. Now, what were we talking about?" Bada asks, grinning.

Were you even talking about anything? You can't remember, too preoccupied with the dull feeling in the center of your chest. It's not like you were expecting Bada and you to be an actual couple. You were well aware that whatever relationship the two of you shared was just a facade. But hearing the reason why she kissed you was like a bucket of ice water poured over your head, reminding you of reality.

"I can't remember. Actually, I think I'm feeling a little sick," you lie.

"Oh, are you alright?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

"Yeah. Don't worry about me. It’s probably something I ate. I'm just gonna head home, I think. You don't have to come with. I'll catch an Uber," you reply, forcing a weak smile.

"What? No, don't waste your money. I'll drive you home. Let me just grab my stuff," she offers, but you shake your head.

"It's really okay. I don't want you to miss out on fun with your friends," you insist, the ache in your throat growing. Why'd she have to be so nice?

"No, I insist. I'll drop you off and come back."

"Bada-"

"Y/N, please," she interrupts. "You're important to me. You're my friend. Helping you out isn't a big deal."

Her words simultaneously break your heart and fix it, and, finally, you give in.

"Fine," you sigh.

She grins. "Now, stay put," she commands, a stern expression replacing her worried one.

"Yes ma'am," you salute.

"Good girl," she teases, and you just stare, your face turning pink.

Bada walks off, and you stare into your glass, the ice having melted. After a moment, she returns, her jacket and backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Ready?" she asks, and you nod, following her out of the bar.

The night is cold and dark, and the stars are shining bright. The sound of the wind fills the air, and your footsteps seem loud, crunching against the ground.

You get to the parking lot and walk over to her car. Bada unlocks the doors, and you open the passenger door before she can do it for you, ignoring the frown on her face. You slide in, put your seatbelt on, and she turns the key, the engine roaring to life.

The ride home is filled with an awkward silence, neither of you sure of what to say. Finally, Bada clears her throat.

"Listen, y/n. Are you upset with me, or something? If I did or said anything to make you mad you, I'm sorry," she says, her voice tight.

"No, it's not that," you assure, and she relaxes a bit. "I'm just feeling sick. Like I said."

"Alright," she sighs.

You arrive at your house, and you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride."

"Of course. I'm glad I could help. Goodnight," she says, and you nod.

"Night," you say, exiting the vehicle.

You head up the path, the wind causing your hair to fly in your face. As you are about to reach the front steps, Bada pulls her car back, reversing. She rolls the passenger window down, sticking her head out.

"Wait!" she shouts, and you freeze, your hand gripping the railing.

"What?" you call back, confused.

"I-uh...ugh," she exclaims, her forehead wrinkling. "I can't just leave you alone. Not when you're sick. Let me take care of you. Please."

You blink. You just could not get rid of this woman. "I'll be fine," you reply, shortly, turning toward your building again. 

"At least let me walk you inside. Then, I'll leave," she offers.

You groan, stopping in your tracks with your eyes closed in frustration. It was too cold for this. "Fine," you mutter.

"Great," she says, and the relief in her voice makes you feel guilty.

"But only for a few minutes. And only because I know how persistent you are."

"Thank you," she says, and the sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten.

She turns her car off, grabs her backpack, and hops out of the vehicle. You lead her into the building, and the two of you make your way up the stairs, eventually arriving at your door.

You unlock it, and the two of you enter. Your apartment is dark and silent, and the sound of your breathing is loud.

"Well, here it is. It's not much, but it's home," you shrug, flipping the light switch on.

"It's cozy," she smiles, and you can't help but grin, too.

"Yeah. Um, would you like some water, or tea, or anything?"

"No, thank you. I'm okay," she replies, adjusting her backpack straps.

"Alright, then," you say, standing in the entryway.

The awkward silence returns, and the two of you stare at each other, neither knowing what to do. Finally, Bada steps forward, closing the space between the two of you.

"Are you sure you're okay? You seemed pretty distant toward the end of the night," she asks, her features soft.

"Yeah. Like I said, not feeling great. Must have been the food," you repeat yourself  robotically, not looking her in the eye.

She frowns. "I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault," you shrug, avoiding her gaze.

"It is, though. Isn’t it? You're my friend, and I care about you. So, if something is bothering you, I want to know and work it out,” she pauses, a guilt-ridden expression overtaking her features. "If this is about the kiss...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because," she sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. "I took advantage of the situation. I should've just told Redllic to fuck off. Or maybe even asked you if you were comfortable with it beforehand."

"You didn't take advantage of me," you argue. 

"Still. It wasn't right. I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry," she repeats, looking at the ground.

"You don't need to be sorry," you insist.

"Really?"

"Yeah," you nod.

"Okay," she says, the crease between her eyebrows disappearing. "Well, then, I guess I should go."

"I guess so," you agree, not making a move.

She hesitates, staring at you. You stare back, your heart racing. She reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Goodnight," she whispers, her voice soft.

"Night," you reply, her touch burning your skin.

She releases your hand, turns around, and heads out, the door closing behind her. You watch her leave, your brain going a mile a minute.

You don't know what's wrong with you. It was just a stupid kiss. It meant nothing. But, despite all of that, the pit in your stomach won't go away, and the thought of her lips against yours replays in your mind.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it wasn't just a kiss. Maybe it meant everything.

Oh fuck it. Fuck it.

You open the door with a vigor that rivaled that of the Hulk's. "Bada," you call out, sprinting into the hallway.

A few steps down the hall, she freezes.

"What is it?" she asks, turning around, her eyebrows raised.

"Just-just, um," you stammer, your mouth dry. "Come back."

She stares for a second, then smirks. "Okay," she says, walking back with a pep in her step. 

Once she reaches the door, she enters, and the two of you stare at each other, unsure.

"What is it?" Bada asks, her face calm.

"I-uh," you start, then swallow.

Fuck. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't you just be honest with her?

"What?" Bada urges, the smirk returning. You look at the floor, the wall, anything. Finally, you take a deep breath, and look her in the eyes.

"I wanted to ask if...you could maybe stay a little longer," you murmur, your cheeks hot.

She raises an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"You sure?"

"Yes," you respond, a little too quickly.

She grins, the smirk replaced with a genuine smile. "Then, I will."

"Okay," you breathe, letting the tension flow from your shoulders.

"So, what did you want to do?" she asks, staring at your lips.

"I don't know," you shrug, not taking your eyes off hers.

"Hmm," she hums, stepping closer.

"Uh, did you wanna, uh, watch TV, or something?" you offer, your voice quiet.

"No," she replies, shaking her head.

"What did you wanna do, then?" you ask, your heartbeat fast.

"Something else." She mutters, and without warning, her lips are on yours again.

She wraps her arms around you, and you immediately melt into her embrace, her scent clouding your senses. Like last time, you wrap your arms around her neck. Her tongue slips into your mouth, exploring, and her hands run down your sides, sending chills down your spine. You let out a moan, and she bites your lip, drawing another from you. 

Your hands tangle in her hair, and hers cup your ass, lifting you up. She carries you over to your bedroom, per your directions, and places you onto your bed gently. Her fingers graze your thigh, and goosebumps pop up all over your body. You pull away, and her eyes are dark.

"Do you want to do this?" she asks, her voice low.

"Yeah," you respond, and she grins.

She kisses you again, and her fingers inch upward, her hand sliding under the hem of your shirt. She traces your skin, leaving a trail of fire, and your breathing quickens.

"Can I take this off?" she asks, pulling at the bottom of your top.

"Yes," you say, lifting yourself off the bed slightly.

She slides your shirt up, and over your head, tossing it aside. She unhooks your bra and discards it, too.

Her eyes linger on your bare chest, and you watch her pupils dilate. You bite your lip, running your hands through her hair.

"Fuck," she growls, and she pushes you back down onto the mattress, her lips trailing from yours to your jaw, your collarbone, your neck, and finally, your chest.

She sucks and nips at the skin there, and you grip her hair tighter, eliciting a moan. She moves downward, kissing down your torso. When her lips reach the waistband of your jeans, she stops, glancing up at you.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes," you plead, and her mouth curls into a mischievous smirk.

"Okay," she says, and she undoes the button and zipper of your jeans.

She tugs them off and throws them aside, leaving you in just your underwear. Her eyes are on yours, and you're frozen.

"Please," you beg, and she lets out a deep chuckle.

"Begging already?"

"Shut up," you hiss, and she laughs, before her hands slip beneath the hem of your panties.

She pulls the material off, leaving you completely exposed.

"Fuck," she mutters, her eyes wide.

You squirm under her gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "What?"

"You're so fucking sexy," she breathes, her eyes filled with lust.

"Really?"

"Of course. Do you even know what you're doing to me right now?"

"N-no," you mumble, averting your eyes.

"Look at me."

You obey, her usually warm puppy eyes now darkened into something wicked, capturing yours.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"Good. Now, lay down," she commands, her voice firm.

You comply, relaxing your body. She climbs on top of you, her hand resting on top of your thigh. 

"Do you still want to do this?"

"Yes," you affirm, nodding.

"Okay," she says, and then, her hand is between your legs.

Her fingers slide along your wetness, and your breathing quickens. Her eyes are fixed on yours, watching your reaction.

"Shit," you groan, as her finger presses against your clit.

"You like that?" she purrs, her lips ghosting across your skin.

"Mhmm," you moan, her finger circling the sensitive bud.

Her finger slips inside you, and you cry out, throwing your arms around her torso. She pumps slowly, and her thumb brushes against your clit.

"More," you pant, your body trembling.

"Of course," she hums, slipping a second digit into you.

"Ah," you moan, gripping her tightly.

She thrusts her fingers deeper, hitting that special spot within. You gasp, your back arching. You're so wet you can hear the squelch of her digits moving inside you, and you slam your eyes shut, overwhelmed. Her lips meet your neck, her teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh, and your moans are muffled.

"Bada, please," you whimper, her fingers curling against that spongey tissue, the sensation making your toes curl.

"Please what, baby?" she murmurs, her thumb rubbing against your clit, the friction making you shiver.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm close, please," you gasp, your walls tightening around her. "Make me come," you choke, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"I will," she promises, and her fingers thrust harder, her thumb moving faster. You cry, the tension in your abdomen building.

"That's it, baby, come for me," she coaxes, and with one final brush against that sensitive spot, you shatter.

The orgasm rips through you, and you convulse, your vision blacking out. You gasp for air, trying to catch your breath. She watches you, a satisfied smile on her face as she caresses your sides with her other hand. 

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Yeah," you say, breathless. "But you didn't finish," you frown, your eyes trailing to her still-clothed form.

"Oh, I will," she says, a smirk reappearing. She rolls over, grabbing her backpack.

"What are you doing?" you ask, sitting up.

"I'm not done with you yet," she answers, her smile devilish. You watch, transfixed, as she pulls out a strap-on and a bottle of lube.

"Oh," you exhale, your core heating. This women was going to be the death of you.

"This okay?"

"The fact that you're casually carrying around a strap-on?"

She smiles, sheepishly. "I like to be prepared."

"But, yes, that is more than okay," you say, licking your lips.

"Great," she says, unbuckling her belt and shrugging her pants off, revealing black boxer briefs. She steps into the harness, pulling the straps tight. She squirts some lube onto her hand, reaching for the dildo, but you stop her.

"Wait-can I?"

"Go ahead," she nods, giving you a smile.

You kneel on the bed, facing her. You gather some lube onto your hand, then coat the silicone. Your hand runs along the length, and your eyes are fixated on the fake cock. It's large, and ribbed, and the mere sight of it makes your thighs squeeze together.

"Like what you see?"

"Yeah," you whisper, looking at her.

She grins, her hands tangling themselves into your hair, pulling you forward. Your lips crash into hers, and she pulls away, her hands tugging your head backward.

"How do you want to do this, pretty girl?"

"I-I don't know," you stammer, flustered.

She chuckles, releasing her hold on your hair. "Lay back down."

You follow her orders, laying back against the pillows.

"Spread your legs," she commands, her tone firm.

You do as she says, your pussy aching. She positions herself in front of you, and leans forward, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Ready?"

"Yes," you sigh, wrapping your arms around her again.

She guides the dildo into you, and the tip teases your entrance, the cool silicone sending shivers through you. She pushes into you, and you gasp, the ribbed surface scraping against your walls.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah," you moan, squeezing her.

She hums and begins to thrust, hard, the silicone stretching you open.

"Fuck," you cry, digging your nails into her back. Her mouth reaches your neck, sucking, and biting, the sensations overwhelming.

She picks up the pace, your bed squeaking in response, and your hips buck, the pleasure building.

"Oh god, oh fuck," you whine, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"So beautiful," she murmurs, her voice strained.

"Bada, please, faster," you beg, your muscles tensing up. 

"Fuck," she hisses, her pace quickening.

"Yes, yes," you pant, the coil in your stomach tightening.

"You gonna come, baby?"

"Yes, fuck, I'm so close," you moan, her words pushing you closer.

"That's it, come for me," she groans, her thrusts getting sloppier.

"Fuck, Bada," you whine, and you break, the orgasm consuming you. You scream as you ride the waves of ecstasy, her name tumbling from your lips. You cling to her, shaking, the intensity nearly blinding.

"Fuck," you whisper, the euphoria fading, and exhaustion taking over.

"That's it, good girl," she whispers, slowing her thrusts.

You let go, sinking into the bed, your mind hazy. She pulls out of you, and removes the strap-on, tossing it onto the floor. She lays down beside you, and you snuggle into her, your head resting on her chest.

"Fuck," you mutter, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"That was fun," she says, her tone teasing.

"Yeah," you sigh, nuzzling closer.

She strokes your hair, her fingers soothing.

"We should get some rest," she says, her voice low.

"Mhm," you hum, your eyes closing.

You feel her place a kiss on the top of your head, and a smile forms on your face. You drift off, a grin still on your face, and a certain someone's heartbeat the last thing you hear.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Bada was nowhere to be seen. After you woke up to an empty bed, you searched your house, convinced she was playing a prank on you. No trace of her, her clothes, her bag. You tried to call her, but her phone was turned off. It was as if she'd vanished into thin air.

And so, there you sat, in your apartment, where you slept with her, alone, wondering if you hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe, the stress of working at Justjerk, the pressure of living up to your expectations had finally gotten to you, and caused a nervous breakdown. But, no. She was there, she was real, and she'd given you the best night of your life. The best week of your life. So, where was she?

As the days dragged on, your heart grew heavy. Your calls went unanswered, texts left on read. You didn't even see her at work. The other teachers at Justjerk asked around about her, but the only answer everyone had was that she'd called in sick. You were worried, confused, and mostly hurt. What had happened? Did she regret it, and that was why she disappeared?

In addition to that, your deadline was approaching. People seemed convinced enough that you two were dating at this point, but it probably didn't look good to show up to the Valentine's Day party without your supposed girlfriend. 

You're sitting at home, silently wallowing next to Hoyeon, who is lying on your couch after coming over to your house to edit because of her noisy neighbors. While you're aimlessly shifting your oatmeal around in its bowl, you hear her slam her laptop shut with an exhale. 

"Y/n, is everything okay?" she asks, her tone concerned 

"Yeah, I'm fine," you say.

She shifts on the couch. "Really? Cause it doesn't seem like it."

"It's nothing," you shrug, pushing the bowl away.

"Come on, you can talk to me."

"I just-," you start, before pausing.

"Take your time," she says, her voice gentle.

"I think something's wrong with Bada," you say, quietly.

"Isn’t she sick?"

"I don’t know. I don’t think so. I actually haven't seen or heard from her since, uh, last week. And she won't answer my calls or texts."

"Huh, that's weird. Why?"

"I-I don't know. She just up and left. We had sex, and the next morning, she was gone. Like she'd never been there," you confess, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Hey," Hoyeon says, reaching over and rubbing your shoulder. 

"I'm sorry. I'm just-,"

"It's okay. You're allowed to feel this way. I mean, who does that to their girlfriend? That's horrible," Hoyeon huffs, a look of indignance crossing her features.

You cough. "We're not-we're not really dating. Well, I think we aren't," you admit. 

She stops her ministrations. "What do you mean?"

"We-uh, pretended to date. To win the contest."

She blinks, processing this in silence. Then, she lets out a loud guffaw, the force causing her to slip off the couch and land on the floor.

"What's so funny?" you ask in disbelief. 

"You-you are so ridiculous," she manages, her body shaking with laughter.

"Ridiculous? Why?"

"Do-do you not realize that the two of you have been pining over each other since the day you started at the studio?"

"Wh-what? No. We have not," you insist.

"Yes, you have," she giggles, wiping a tear from her eye.

"How could you tell?"

"It's so obvious! Listen, I don't know what kind of weird situationship you guys have gotten into but I don't think anyone is pretending to like anyone, here."

"But she left me!" you argue, exasperated.

"Maybe she was being stupid. Or embarrassed. Who knows? But, she definitely has a thing for you. She's been bothering the videographers forever asking for you. Were you the one who suggested you fake date?"

You blink. "No.”

She laughs again, picking herself up off the floor. "Exactly. Now, have you told her how you really feel?"

"What? No."

"Then, go do that! That's probably why she ran for the hills. Just go to her house and confess."

"I-okay. You're right," you say, standing up.

"Damn straight I'm right. Now, go get your woman," she grins, ushering you towards the door.

You give her a smile, and step outside, a new sense of confidence flowing through you. What were you so afraid of anyway? She wouldn't have done all that she did if she didn't care about you, right? You needed to find her, and tell her. Tell her everything.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

After driving to a random neighborhood and being hit with the realization that you had no idea where Bada lived, you receive a text from Hoyeon just in time with an address.

The sun was just beginning to set, and the sky was a beautiful gradient of blue, pink, and purple. You drive for a bit, eventually making your way to a more residential area, until you find yourself parked outside of an apartment complex.

You exit your car and make your way inside. When you arrive at her unit, the door opens before you can even knock.

"Oh, y/n, hi," Badi says, her voice raspy, her eyes wide. 

She looks unlike herself. Her hair is unkempt, her skin paler than usual. Her clothes are rumpled and her eyes are red, like she's been awake for days.

"Hi, are you okay?" you ask, worried.

"I've been better," she shrugs, looking away.

"Can I come in?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure."

She steps aside and you enter. The interior is what you'd expect from her; tidy, and simple.

"Are you hungry?" she offers, gesturing towards her kitchen.

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

"Okay."

You stand in the middle of her living room, the tension growing by the second.

"I've been trying to reach you," you start, tentatively.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, my phone's dead," she lies.

"Really? Because, the first few times I called, it rang," you say, crossing your arms.

She sighs, and walks over to the couch, flopping down. "I'm sorry," she mumbles, burying her face in her hands.

"Sorry? For what? Leaving me alone in bed, with no explanation, not answering my calls or texts for the past week, and lying to my face?"

"I didn't mean to-,"

"Why'd you run?"

"Because I was scared," she says, looking up.

"Of what?"

"This," she admits, gesturing between the two of you.

"You're not scared of anything," you scoff.

"I'm scared of you, y/n."

"Me? Why would you be scared of me?"

"Because I've liked you ever since the day you walked into the studio. I wasn't lying when I said I think you're amazing. And then I didn't want to ruin the friendship that we built."

"So, you pretend to be my girlfriend, sleep with me, and then leave without a word?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn’t initially planning on doing things this way. But you brought up the fake-dating and I thought maybe if we pretended, that'd be enough. It wasn't, and I let my feelings get  ahead of me. And, I'm sorry," she confesses, her gaze dropping.

You review that first meeting you had in the dance studio. For the first time, you realize that Bada actually didn’t suggest fake-dating you. You did. She just proposed that you approach things romantically, rather than platonically. Which could have easily been her attempt at asking you out. 

Whoops. 

You exhale slowly, sitting down next to her. "You know, it's funny. I was coming over here to tell you the same thing. You're really special to me. And, I didn't know how to express that for real. So, I thought, if I was in a fake relationship with you, then it would be easier to do that. Guess, I was wrong too," you say, smiling sadly.

"So, does that mean-,"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, Bada, I like you."

"Oh," she says, smiling, looking away again. 

You bite down on your lip. "So, what are we gonna do now?"

She fully turns toward you, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. "I guess, we can start over. If you want. Go on a real date?"

"Sure," you reply, a warmth blossoming in your chest.

"Cool," she says, her expression brightening.

"Cool," you echo, the two of you grinning, staring at each other like idiots.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please," you whisper, and she leans forward, her lips capturing yours.  You close your eyes, sinking into her touch, the worries, and anxiety of the past week disappearing. Who would've thought that a silly team-building exercise within your company would have ended up leading to this? You almost wanted to ask Bada to pinch you, but, the feeling of her hands cupping your cheeks, and the taste of her mouth, was enough to reassure you that this was real-that the whole thing had been real the entire time. And now that you knew it was, you couldn't wait to explore it further, and discover more about the beautiful woman next to you, who has stolen your heart.

Or, maybe you should give that credit to Cupid. After all, the Cupid Project turned out to be way more successful than you, or Youngj, could've ever imagined.

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Not. 

"How did we lose?!" You nearly screech, watching Hoyeon and Howl stand in the middle of the room with a check in their hands. 

Bada stares at them with a frown. "I don't get it either. Isn't Hoyeon a lesbian?"

Youngj appears out of thin air, sliding into your line of sight. More accurately, it is his bright red fuzzy sweater with pink hearts that captures your eye. "Irrelevant to the contest. Remember, this project was not meant to encourage new workplace relationships."

"But—"

"Nope," he pops the 'p', "You two are very cute, but you lost because you two idiots were already in love with each other, and were just too stupid to admit it. You didn't even need to be a part of the cupid project."

You groan.

"On the bright side, we have free heart-shaped sugar cookies in the corner. Congratulations, Y/n and Bada, on a job well done. Please don't break up, because I do not want to deal with any workplace drama. Goodbye." He disappears again, leaving the two of you staring at the ground.

You guess you were gonna have to say goodbye to that camera, as well. 

Bada turns to you, offering a small smile. "Are you okay?"

You shrug. "It's alright. I didn't need the money anyway. I got something much better out of this whole thing."

She blushes, her cheeks matching the color of her plain red sweatshirt. "Ew."

"Oh shut up," you say, swatting her arm with a laugh.

She rubs her arm, her bottom lip jutting out.

You sigh, pulling her into a hug. She buries her face in your neck, humming. "Well, I guess I don't need to give you the gift I got you for today, then."

"Gift? Wait, what?" You say, shoving her away in shock.

She bursts into laughter, raising a bag that she's been holding silently behind her back. "Of course. I couldn't not get my girlfriend something for Valentine's Day. I've been hiding it the whole time. Here."

You grab the bag, opening it. You pull the gift out of the bag, and a soft gasp leaves your mouth. 

It's the camera.

[alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice]

I Will Write A Fic For You If You Donate to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund!

I came across the super cool organization Fandom Trumps Hate just recently (as of this post actually), and unfortunately I learned of its existence too late to apply to be one of the writers for this year. Since I don't want to wait a whole year to do some good with my love of writing, I'm holding my own little auction! Let's use that autistic special interest for good!

How Much I Will Write: 1K-5K words (if I end up writing more, well, yay for the lucky auction winner I guess, but that's what I'm willing to commit to)

What Fandoms I Will Write For: Baldur's Gate 3, The Dragon Prince, Good Omens, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Loki (just... the character. I will write so many things involving that character)

What I Will (and Will Not) Write: Character x Character, Character x reader, Character x OC even if you can give me enough about your OC, are all good! Not into shipping? No worries! I love the platonic and I can even just write a character study or a songfic. I am willing to write up to M rating for this, so some spicy stuff, but not pure smut. Any of the Main Warning Tags on AO3, save Major Character Death (gotta love that angst), are off limits. If you are worried that I can't write your idea before you want to bid, go ahead and shoot me a message before you bid and I'll let you know! You can also check out my pinned post for my masterlist of past fics. I have written all the examples I have given as requests before.

How to Bid: Place the dollar amount (in US $) of your bid in the replies of this post! The bidding period begins at the time of posting, March 3 2024 12pm ESR and ends March 10th 2024 2pm EST.

What Happens If You Win: When the bidding closes I will message the top bidder from this account here on tumblr. From there, you have 48 hours to send proof of your donation. I'm giving myself a deadline of a month to have your fic ready for you.

If the winner does not send proof of donation before the time period is up, I will contact the first runner up.

Additionally, I will match the winning bid in my own donation up to $100

AND A FINAL WARNING

The purpose of this endeavor is for fun fic writing and most importantly, doing a little bit of good for the Palestinian people. Any bigotry done on this post will result in the perpetrator being blocked and disqualified from receiving a fanfic.

[rubendiasthoughts]

Hi ❤ Thank you to the person who suggested I write this ❤ Also, decided to divide this in 2 parts. Hope you enjoy, sending you lots of love ❤

Friends with benefits with Ruben Dias - part 1:

The relationship you had with Ruben was a quite complicated one. The both of you started as friends, but since the beginning there was an undeniable attraction between the two of you. You met him through your best friend, whose boyfriend is also a player for Manchester City. Your best friend was also a reason why you kept spending more and more time with Ruben, as you almost always accompanied her to their games.

Since the day you met Ruben the interactions between the two of you seemed to be quite flirtatious, however for a long time it was nothing more than a playful banter - neither of you brave enough to cross that line. It turned out all you needed was a bit of alcohol in your system to make the both of you feel a bit more brave, a bit more careless. There is no wonder the line was finally crossed on the night the whole Manchester City squad celebrated winning the Premier League trophy.

Your best friend took you along for the night of celebrations, which you didn't mind because it meant you got to have fun and enjoy a nice party with loads of free food and drinks. You were obviously taking advantage of it, but surprisingly so was Ruben, who you knew very well usually wasn't the one to reach for the drinks. At one point of the night Ruben found you sitting at the bar, sipping on a drink and he decided to join you. Your conversation was filled with shameless fliriting until you two decided to go outside and get some fresh air. Ruben stared at you in the dim light of the street lamps, admiring your beauty, pretending to be listening to the story you were just telling him, until he couldn't take it anymore. He pushed you against the brick wall, his lips were on yours in a matter of seconds as your tounges moved against each other. It was all rushed and desperate, the two of you getting a cab and going straight to his place.

The next morning you woke up before he did taking a look around his bedroom as you recalled the events of the previous night. You didn't know what it meant and frankly you were not sure if you were ready for the answer, so before Ruben even woke up you put your clothes on, grabbed all of your belongings and made it out of his apartment. After that eventful night the two of you haven't spoken to each other for few days, neither of you sure what the other one would want to hear. When you finally saw each other again it was at one of his games that you attended with your friend. Seeing you that night made it impossible for him to try and stay away from you any longer, so he decided to text you. You ended up meeting that night and that's how the whole friends with benefits thing started - the both of you agreeing you were not ready for commitment, but still feel overwhelming attraction to each other. You acted according to that deal for a few months, Ruben usually texting you to come over when he was in need of your attention, you would stay the night, but then in the morning it was over and you were going back to your own place.

For a short period of time it seemed to be working out great, but after a while you started to develop feelings for him. What you didn't know was that he felt exactly the same way, neither of you brave enough to confess. So you decided it would be better if you put yourself back out there, maybe find someone new who would make you forget about Ruben, who would make you want to end this stupid arrangement you had with him and that's exactly why, when a guy at your work asked you out, you didn't hesitate for even a second and agreed to have a date with him.

The day of the date has finally come and you were at your apartment getting ready, you just stepped out of the shower when you hear the noise of your phone going off. You checked it and saw a message from Ruben, asking you to come over to his place tonight, so you texted him back saying you have a date and can't make it. You put your phone back on the counter and started brushing your hair and drying it off. After a while you picked your phone up again, expecting to see a message from Ruben saying that it was okay and you will see each other on a different occasion. Surprisingly, you were met with no new messages. However, you didn't have time to think about it, cause your date was getting close and you still had to do your makeup and pick out something to wear. When you were almost ready, only had shoes left to pick out you heard the noise of your door bell. You went to open the door, wondering who could it be, since you and your date agreed to meet at the restaurant. The moment you opened your doors your eyes were met with a tall, well built figure - it was Ruben and he seemed quite irritated, clenching his jaw, an angry look in his eye, he didn't say anything to greet you, quickly walked in and closed the door behind him.

"Hi, what you're doing here?" you were the first to speak up. "I have to leave in few... " Ruben didn't let you finish.

"You dresses up this pretty for him, huh?" he asked you, ignoring your question. He was looking down at you, his eyes drilling into the short dress that left little to the imagination, his arms were crossed over his chest.

"What do you mean? I told you I have a date" you tried to explain yourself, confused by Ruben's attitude.

"No you don't, you are not going anywhere" he said in a stern voice, making you furrow your eyebrows in anger. Who was he to tell you what you could and could not do, you thought to yourself.

"Or what? You flirt with other girls all the time and maybe do other things with them as well and that's ok, huh?" you argued, raising your voice at him. However, he didn't seem impressed with what you had to say at all. He only stood in silence, tilting his head back a little, a stern look in his eye. "Besides you are not the boss of me, Ruben. And you are not my boyfriend either" you spit out. Just when you were ready to open your mouth again, he took few steps closer to you, he wrapped his hand around your neck before you could even react. He squeezed your throat, adding pressure to it as he pushed you on to the wall that was behind you. He pressed his body against yours, his hand still on your neck as he leaned in.

"I think you need to be reminded who you belong to, huh sweet girl?" his hoarse voice sounded in your ear.

[manicpixiedreamcrowley]

GOOD OMENS fic recs (#1)

-> fic info includes: title, link, author, rating, chapter count, word count, summary, and my notes

-> total of 28 fic recs (+2 accompanying podfics)

if any of the links are broken, please send me a message so i can fix them!

"sweet surprises" by euterpein | G, oneshot, 15.1k

Aziraphale, for reasons even she can't fathom, has volunteered to help out at the Halloween extravaganza being hosted at Adam's school. Things are going well until a certain red-haired solicitor and her son also get involved... Featuring unfortunate assumptions, secret plots, and an inordinate amount of pining.

notes: starting strong with ineffable wives human au ft. misunderstandings but with fluff instead of angst

"sweetest downfall" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 9.9k

It hits Aziraphale out of the blue one day that if loving Crowley is a sin then it’s the only sin worth committing. or: some falls are gentle

notes: also ineffable wives romance with a bit of hurt crowley and protective aziraphale

"with her i would fly" by mickyrc | G, oneshot, 1.4k

Crowley curled up a little tighter, nuzzling her cheek into Aziraphale’s tummy and purring when her fingers dipped into the nook behind her ear. They’d been there for hours already, slowly working through a bottle of wine while Crowley slowly melted into her wife’s side. It's just a quiet night, cuddled together on the couch, and Aziraphale's found a poem that reminds her of Crowley.

notes: ineffable wives again but domestic fluff and cuddling

"fire in your heart (and your kitchen)" by waitingtobebroken | T+, 2/2, 7k

The most beautiful man that Crowley has ever seen is also the firefighter that keeps having to put out the fires in his kitchen. It just so happens that Crowley is awful at cooking.

notes: crowley starting kitchen fires for an excuse to talk to firefighter aziraphale

"the bicycle" by thelordoflamancha | G, oneshot, 1.8k

"Lily had heard the rumors about the penthouse flat in this particular building near Berkley Square in Mayfair. She had heard them talk about the mythical snake and the angry man that shouted at all hours of the day. She had seen the library staff consoling shaken door-to-door salespeople, petitioners, and volunteers sheltering in the library lobby after a run in with the owner. She knew the tales of the fearsome man with sharp teeth who would make mincemeat of even the bravest adult to cast their shadow upon his doorstep. Certainly, it was no place for a child. Even the kindly librarian had advised her away from this particular building in her fundraising quest." Or, Crowley helps Lily win the bicycle.

notes: another outsider pov fic but this time it's crowley encouraging corrupt marketing tactics in a kid

"a familiar bond" by chubbsthefish | T+, 20/20, 38.6k

There is a reason witches are warned not to summon demons. The sleepy town of Tadfield was supposed to be peaceful, a town full of witches practicing their craft without worry of outside persecution. At least it was until someone let a demon loose. But local bookshop owner and garden enthusiast Aziraphale doesn't really care about all that nonsense, not when he has just acquired a new friend and companion in the shape of a Familiar. Crowley just wanted to head back home. But that's getting harder to do now that he's gone and gotten attached to a certain witch, which is bad since he does not want the pure-hearted man to be corrupted by his mere presence.

notes: i can't really fawn over this without spoiling it so just go read it and report back to me

"something familiar" by joldiego | T+, oneshot, 2.5k

Aziraphale is laid out on the couch, seemingly asleep. This is not shocking. What is shocking, however, is the giant black snake coiled around him from head to toe. Anathema and Newt drop by the bookshop and make a startling discovery. Aziraphale and Crowley are just trying to have a lazy Saturday morning.

notes: outsider pov fic but through the perspective of anathema who can't exactly remember armageddon and thus doesn't know the bible lore around them

"mine" by joifuldreaming | T+, oneshot, 1.5k

Crowley is oblivious, Aziraphale is jealous.

notes: possessive aziraphale is something i didn't know i needed, but now that it has been brought to my attention, i can't get over it

"show me the sugar" by waitingtobebroken | T+, oneshot, 4.1k

When the new "couple" moves in the cottage down the road, it's apparent to everyone what their Arrangement is. Rachel, the owner of the pet shop they had just visited, is not so sure anymore. Who was supposed to be the sugar father again?

notes: i've read this one several times, i love it so much, i'm obsessed with outsider pov fics trying to understand what their deal is

PODFIC AVAILABLE

"find it in the dictionary under 'L'" by his_infinitevariety | G, oneshot, 1.7k

Demons can’t feel love, but Aziraphale can’t help noticing how much Crowley’s suddenly flinging the word around.

notes: one of those fics where aziraphale can sense love but either a) can't feel it from crowley for some reason or b) doesn't know it's him

"you are home (half of me)" by angelsnuffbox | T+, 5/5, 28.5k

Aziraphale had gotten dumped, plain and simple. But that small detail wasn’t nearly as important as all the things that happened after he’d gotten dumped - such as coming to a few realisations about his best friend of sixteen years.

notes: the epitome of gay people not being able to identify relationships

"the blinding look from me to you" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 13k

There are nights Crowley aches so deeply she can hardly stand it. Nights where she’ll do anything to rid herself of it. She knows how Aziraphale’s arms feel around her and it’s the worst kind of torture, the worst kind of agony, because she knows she’ll never have it again. or: crowley aches for aziraphale in the best and worst ways

notes: holy shit dude

more elaborate notes: ineffable wives pining throughout the ages, this one is through crowley's pov

"are you my future or just an escape?" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 20.1k

She wants to kiss Crowley and the urge doesn’t scare her like she thought it would – maybe it’s something she’s wanted all along but hasn’t allowed herself to think about. A dangerous thing, an angel wanting. Even more dangerous for an angel to give in. or: aziraphale can't stop looking at crowley and overthinking everything (companion piece to 'the blinding look from me to you' but can 100% be read alone)

notes: i actually read this one first, this is aziraphale's pov of the previous fic but could be read as a standalone

my ao3 history says "visited 15 times" as if i don't know that

"spare the righteous" by appleseeds | M, 4/4, 12.7k

When Father Gabriel brings a snake to their chapel and insists the nuns handle the animal as a demonstration of their faith, Sister Aziraphale can't help but be frightened. After a series of visits from Father Gabriel, when everyone in her Order has been bitten by the snake except for Aziraphale, suspicions rise and rumours spread, putting her future amongst them in jeopardy. At least Aziraphale has somebody to confide in about her worries - a lovely woman by the name of Crowley, who has recently started visiting the nunnery's bookshop on a regular basis and has proven herself to be very kind and understanding. Unfortunately for Aziraphale, she's also extraordinarily attractive and a constant source of temptation that Aziraphale isn't entirely sure she wants to resist.

notes: they're lesbians again! i have also read this fic 15+ times

"unexplained phenomena: or 5 times crowley & aziraphale didn’t kiss for the kiss cam and one time they did" by fractalgeometry | G, oneshot, 2.2k

Emma Rathmore knows everyone who comes to her son’s baseball games. Until she doesn’t. Still, even if she only ever sees these newcomers through the ridiculous new kiss cam, at some point they stop feeling so much like strangers. They’re certainly...interesting. And slightly baffling. But definitely interesting.

notes: outsider pov fic

“doggone batty” by kedreeva | T+, 4/4, 14.3k

Aziraphale, a werewolf who never fit in well with the rest of his pack, moves into a house he's just inherited a long ways away. The only problem is that he finds there's something more than a little amiss with his new neighbor.

notes: it’s impressive how in-character they are

“catalyst” by ikarakie | T+, oneshot, 7k

aziraphale spots a new sign on the door of the local brothel. that, a lunch date, and an obnoxious man bully him into finally making his demon actually his. OR aziraphale realises he has competition and immediately does something about it.

notes: starring jealous aziraphale, aka my FAVORITE aziraphale. i love it when he’s a bitch he deserves it

“all the dreams we had” by impishtubist | T+, 2/2, 6.4k

This time will be different, Aziraphale thinks. This time, Crowley will remember.

notes: this is one of the most devastating fics ever btw it has like…time loop aspects and amnesia at the same time..honestly even if nobody else goes through this whole list i’m glad that i was able to reread it LMAO

"and it hurt" by ineffabledoll | T+, oneshot, 3.6k

Aziraphale can sense love, but it was never supposed to be like this. The love was never supposed to be for him, for an angel, for beings loved only by God. It was not supposed to grow and grow, the ashen forest of a single spark.

notes: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ABSENCE OF COLD AND PRESENCE OF WARMTH...I AM UNWELL

"never judge books by their...?" by worseomens | *NR, oneshot, 4.4k

There's a burglary in Soho, right across the road from AZ Fell & Co's Antique Bookseller's. An angel and a demon are called in for questioning, and the detectives involved start to form opinions... (OR: Crowley's a flirt, and Aziraphale doesn't do PDA; people start to get the wrong idea)

*author did not rate fic, but i'd put it between G/T+ with no significant warnings

notes: another outsider pov fic

PODFIC AVAILABLE

"digging for gold" by worseomens | *NR, oneshot, 5.6k

Crowley finally stops hiding his visits to the bookshop, now the celestial powers-that-be have decided to butt out, only to be faced with a whole new challenge. (OR: The people of Soho make sure this newcomer isn’t about to hurt their beloved local madman)

*same as previous fic

notes: ANOTHER outsider pov fic from the outsider pov series by worseomens (total of 22 fics), this is one of my favorite outsider pov fics ever

"heavenly wicked cafe" by waitingtobebroken | T+, 7/7, 33.9k

There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

notes: i wish they knew how to communicate like this in canon

"from eden ('till armageddon)" by ikarakie | G, oneshot, 3.3k

the british museum needs to take their nose out of crowley's damn business. OR a 200 year old journal full of crowley's pining and confessions ends up on display.

notes: historians finding crowley's diary like damn this guy is so queer we gotta put this on display

"a model guardian" by fuuma_san | E, 23/23, 147.4k

Crowley is a self-sufficient model on the verge of stardom. They clawed their way up all by themselves and the very last thing they want is some cream puff bodyguard their agency hired following them around constantly. Pretending to be their boyfriend at work so they don't get a reputation as a Diva. Watching over them. Caring for them. But then it turns out "Fell" was not even his real name. Was it all fake? Would someone like him ever want someone like them?

notes: this is a giant leap from mostly oneshots but this is like doing drugs for everyone who loves with a good bodyguard au <3 be sure to check tags for possible trigger warnings

"revelation" by syrupfactory | M, 4/4, 13.9k

The year is 3021, and Aziraphale and Crowley have been married for a thousand years. Together, they manage the London Archive, a futuristic information hub that stands on the same block that one held a bookstore. An Anglican priest who visits regularly has a huge crush on Aziraphale, and Crowley is amused … until the priest grows bitter enough to make a very poor choice. As it turns out, envy is a bad look for a man of the cloth, and pissing off an angel is far worse.

notes: can you tell i love outsider pov fics? i just need to see what other people think of these freaks

"candied apples" by pentagrammar | T+, 20/20, 46k

Crowley, his diet being as limited as it is, has never had a craving before. But that is before he saw Aziraphale. At least, he thinks it’s a craving. Now, he is embarrassingly fixated on a single human, and to make matters worse, none of his plans seem to be working. Being a vampire is hard. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is growing increasingly concerned about the odd man who keeps showing up and saying deranged things, and the fact that his dear friend Anathema is convinced that an evil presence has latched itself onto his bookshop.

notes: crowley is sooo dumb my babygirl the love of my life (widely applicable statement to him in general)

"couldn't resist" by edosianorchids901 & luinlothana | G, oneshot, 3k

When Crowley falls asleep waiting for Aziraphale to finish reading a chapter, the angel has an idea based on photos the demon showed him a few days prior.

notes: snake crowley being dressed up in little outfits GOD i love this

"snake eyes" by lucy_ferrier | G, oneshot, 3k

Crowley has snake eyes. They look like snake eyes. They function like snake eyes. The thing is snake eyes aren't all that good for seeing with. He doesn't really seem to let it stop him from doing what he wants.

notes: blind crowley with canon typical communication skills (read: none)

[eggsyondaside24]

Career headcanons

By that I mean how careers came to be, their culture surrounding the Hunger Games, and how reapings work. The career districts are my favorite part of the Hunger Games world, so I got a lot of ideas abt it lol. So in preparation of me posting my career pack ocs, here’s a bit of context to the shit they grew up in.

History The idea of careers came from a kid from District 2 named Theseus (I’m not a Greek mythology expert, I just heard about the minotaur and Theseus myth in ancient history class and was like “mmm yess that reminds me of a Hunger Games OC”). He was the son of a former rebel and secretly trained him just in case he was ever reaped. When the President announced the 1st Quarter Quell and its rules, he campaigned to be a tribute to save those who would otherwise not stand a chance in the arena. He won the vote and ended up winning the Hunger Games.

Inspired by his own upbringing, he began doing the same with kids from his districts. Ofc he wasn’t stupid enough to do it behind his back because he knew the Capitol would kill him and everyone involved, so he sought permission. The government was like “ya okay but only if those kids become peacekeepers after they’re past reaping-age because we desperately need peacekeepers :(” He agreed and created the first career academy with funding from the Capitol. Ik Career Academies are a little controversial and aren’t canon in the books, but shut up let me worldbuild in peace. Career academies were spread to Districts 1 and 4 due to their own victors setting up their own schools.

Theseus spread his altruistic philosophy to his students, urging kids who were strong enough to volunteer for the games to protect the weak and poor. It became a really popular sentiment, especially with the victory of Alexandria, a district 2 victor of the 29th games, who worked with Theseus and volunteered to protect a disabled girl from being reaped.

However, Theseus’s beliefs became absolutely corrupted and bastardized throughout the years. The Capitol was enjoying the good influx of peacekeepers in their force, and the Capitol audience was really enjoying the entertainment brought on by overzealous or honorable wannabe heroes that came out of the academies. The whole thing would also cause division among the districts. Non-career districts felt like career districts were cheating, and career tributes from different districts were very competitive against each other. To encourage more peacekeepers and interesting tributes coming in, they began putting out propaganda that portrayed Theseus and Alexandria as these badass heroes kids should strive to become. It didn’t help that Alexandria would spread the same “volunteering is totally rad yall should totes do it too” thing. 

They would glorify the hunger games, desensitize kids from violence, and put a lot of importance on physical strength and being the best—which leads to unathletic and disabled people being looked down upon. This all shaped countless kids to be bullies at best and pretty psychopathic at worst. 

Theseus obviously didn’t like where any of this was going. He still held onto the values his rebel father instilled in him, so seeing the districts be so divided and kids gleefully murdering each other pissed him off. He tried to counter it by trying to spread a pasifistic message, but kindness and empathy were so dark days ago, so nobody really took him seriously. Deeply ashamed with how his ideas were bastardized by the Capitol, he committed suicide around the time before the 2nd QQ.

The Capitol wasn’t done shitting all over Theseus’s ideas, though. They used his legacy to further their own agendas, like spreading propaganda that he was pro-Capitol and all.

At some point, the Capitol felt like they gave the career districts way too much control over themselves. The Hunger Games were literally made to punish the districts through child murder (aka one of the most vulnerable people they got), but they just kept sending the best of the best to the games. So the Capitol banned the traditional way of volunteering in the career districts all together, replacing it with a more random system of reaping instead (which I’ll get into later). That way the districts weren’t in complete control but had enough to not cause an entire rebellion again.

My headcanon(s) for volunteering in career districts Volunteering works differently in career districts, as it doesn't disqualify everyone who doesn't volunteer from the Hunger Games. It only increases the volunteer's odds of getting reaped. Volunteers aren't allowed to take out tesserae, and those who do can only take out a limited amount. If someone wants to take more, they’d probably have to do more work or smth idk

So right after the Hunger Games, the Justice Building would open sign-ups for kids who wanted to volunteer. Only kids who would be 15-18 by the time of the next reaping are allowed to volunteer, and they’re required to bring documents proving their age, physical health, and approval from their legal guardian. A recommendation letter also gives a kid extra entries, and a sign-up is worth more entries the older a volunteer is.

After that, they’re able to get more entries via a sort of point system. Community service, high performance in training, winning tournaments, etc. gives kids a certain amount of points that they can exchange for more entries. Parents can buy more entries if they’re rich enough, but it costs a fortune, and and buying your way into the games is seen as dishonorable.

Career culture and how it differentiates between districts Generally, career culture values strength, success, and honor. These are core principles that careers live by and strive to embody… but to an extremely unhinged degree. First off, it's common for careers equate physical strength to overall worth. If you’re unathletic or disabled, you might as well be a pile of dead clams. Success in careers means getting reaped for the games, and the pinnacle of making it in life is winning it. Even if you die, you’ll be seen as a martyr. However, not everyone is automatically a hero for being in the games. Careers have a code of honor they have to follow unless you wanna be seen as a cheater. For example, betraying your allies is a huge taboo and will always get you hated. The only time it’s acceptable is when you and your allies mutually agree to break it off. There’s also a sense of honor and “patriotism” being a tribute/victor because their presence in the games is saving a more vulnerable kid to be killed in the games and making your district richer through the rewards the Capitol brings when they get a victor.

Because these values are so valued, anyone who doesn’t fit or wants to fit into them is looked down upon by careers. Like I said, even though their whole thing came from wanting to protect the vulnerable, career kids look down on unathletic, or worse, disabled people because they’re weak. People who have no interest in being careers or volunteering for the games are treated worse because they willingly avoid being careers while disabled people “have an excuse.” There is literally an insult for ppl who dont want to volunteer (conchie, as in conscientious objector. Yes that’s a WW1 reference. what are you gonna do about it). And it’s absolutely bonkers how cruel they can be to anyone who doesn’t fit into this mold. Like kids can be driven to suicide just because they don’t want to volunteer. So with the huge pressure to conform, vulnerable people end up getting hurt or roped into the games anyway to avoid getting ostracized by their peers.

The most messed up part about this whole thing is that the Capitol and people running the Academies purposely designed a culture like this. They know that putting so much importance on these values is harmful for kids, even those who are considered the perfect career. But do they care? NAH. Academies bring a lot of money, peacekeepers, and entertainment for the Capitol. And as long as they keep a good stream of all 3 of those, they’re not stopping any time soon.

An example of this happening are entry tokens. Kids are given tokens equating to the numbers of entries they have. This gives kids physical evidence of how many entries they have and, in a deeper sense, how dedicated they are to having good careers. They literally have like a panem-equivalent of Claire’s where you can put tokens on fashion accessories so you can serve cunt while showing off how much you’re dedicated for your district. As a result, more pressure is given to rack up as many tokens as you can get, sometimes just so you can prove how much of a good career you are.

Inspirations An inspiration for career culture is actually the whole enlistment craze at the start of WW1 and the disenchantment that follows them when they finally end up in the trenches. I was endlessly fascinated by it (no thanks to All Quiet on the Western Front) and used a bit of my knowledge on it in here.

Theseus was hugely inspired by Penelope Scott's song "American Healthcare" which is about a man who became a doctor for good intentions only to discover the shittiness of the Healthcare System in the US and feels a sense of guilt for working for it. If you haven't listened to the song, I beg of you, DROP EVERYTHING AND LISTEN TO IT RIGHT NOW IT'S REALLY FUCKING GOOD.

He was also inspired by the Black Mirror episode "15 million merits". I don't wanna spoil anything in case anyone reading hasn't seen it, but I took a lot of inspo from the message of corporations taking something meaningful and watering down/bastardizing it for profit and applied it to Theseus.

Alr yap sesh over I'm gonna do my homework byeeee

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Which members promotions were your favorite so far? Hobi might win for me because that listening party was super fun and Lollapalooza was crazy. Also More sits at the same table as SMFpt2 for me as far as being really shocking and exciting when it dropped!

***

Hi Anon!

Nothing beats Yoongi’s D-DAY tour for me. My god what an experience. I was fortunate to attend multiple stops and I still have fever dreams in the middle of the day remembering how hard I was screaming along to Burn It and Huh, how my friend burst into tears during Snooze, how I choked up a bit during Life Goes On and finally lost it on The Last. The encore tours gave me the emotional equivalent of a blood transfusion. Seeing Jimin, Namjoon, and Jungkook on stage in a proper concert setting for the first time in almost a year, was really the best parting gift and I’ll always be grateful to Yoongi for it. I love that man very, very much.

That cute practice session Yoongi did for the ‘I’m so cute’ or whatever challenge with Jimin too, subbing ARMYs with screaming plushies and the live he did reading fan messages teasing us about his seven tattoo… and then that cheeky reveal after the tour ended…

Yoongi gave me everything and more with his album and the tour.

Other members too:

- SeokJin going to Argentina to promote The Astronaut with Coldplay was incredible. The planning and organizing behind that feat couldn’t have been easy but somehow they made it work and LatAm ARMYs were finally able to see at least one Tannie for the first time in a long while. That really was amazing.

- Taehyung’s Tiny Desk performances are 🤌🏽

- I loved how Jimin really thought outside the box with his promotions, choosing to go on many really fun Korean variety shows. These are shows BTS either hadn’t done ever or in something like 5 years. A lot of my K-ARMY friends loved how Jimin seemed to prioritize them fully in ways that hadn’t been done for a while.

- I tried hard to attend Joon’s small concert but work commitments didn’t allow that possibility, but I also really love his promotion choices. My partner (surprisingly) has become a tiny bit obsessed with Joon’s Tiny Desk performance lol, so I suspect Joon has gained a new fan.

- Think I’ve already talked about how Hobipalooza was the concert highlight of 2022 for me. Hobi had such a short time to put everything together, and I’m proud of him for going out of his comfort zone a bit sending out invites and throwing the launch party. I loved seeing him just celebrate his success, seeing the other members chill out and have a good time.

- It was nice seeing that at least one member did not forget Europe exists with their promotions (😭), so I’m glad Jungkook could make the trip over to promote Seven in the UK.

The rapline’s album projects are easily some of the best releases this year in any genre for me. And I’m not even trying to be biased. Corroborated by critics reviews, each album is a solid, cohesive, and cerebrally stimulating piece of art and I’m so proud of them for putting it together. It’s easy to see how BTS has become the biggest band in the world when you have these three men who can stand as respected artists in their own right, being the bedrock of the music created by BTS for the last 10 years.

Jimin’s debut with FACE ended k-pop in 2023. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the industry as we know it, life as we know it, Jimin as we knew him, ended in March 2023. What Jimin did with Set Me Free Pt 2 still gives me goosebumps when I think about it. That song was a warning shot, a small mercy to the industry to warn them in advance of who Jimin is prepared to become as a solo artist and as Jimin of BTS, and I cannot overstate how excited I am for his next project. FACE as an album is the complete package. His songs are just good. Like, actually good. Good enough to play anywhere and any time. That’s the kind of music Jimin makes. Imagine hearing Face-off in a concert arena… imagine hearing the intro play before he comes on stage. Can you even imagine….

Lol I’m starting to hurt myself with these imagines.

Taehyung’s album too is very good (though these days it only gets plays from me in the evenings). And while Seven isn’t my favorite release, it’s still a well made song that Jungkook of course has done a phenomenal job with. Twice now he’s had to promote it outdoors in very bad weather and he’s kept his vocals stable and well projected. He’s working hard and I’m hoping it translates well into work done for his solo album debut later this year.

I have almost no complaints in the debut solo showcases from all the members, in their promotion styles, and in the overall presentation. These albums were all very decent and respectable first showings from the members of the biggest group in the world. The response from the general public and professional critics has been very favourable, and the fandom has supported each member to be as successful as one would expect for anyone from BTS.

I’m a very happy ARMY in Chapter 2 ^_^

[anarchywoofwoof]

What are we supposed to do?

No, genuinely. No snark, no bit, what are we supposed to do?

If Kamala wins, the genocide will continue.

If Trump wins, the genocide will intensify and we'll probably end up with a war.

Third parties are impossible to get into office, and I doubt any of their policies will be any better.

Isn'treal refuses to see reason and Stop Fucking Killing People.

Nobody in power is actually listening to the protests, and that's not about to change.

The government isn't exactly in a position to collapse right now without getting several million people killed by the fallout, even if it was guaranteed to happen tomorrow morning.

One hundred percent sincerely, what can we do?

stop being a servile and easily manipulated, placid and accepting participant in your countries ongoing war crimes and genocide taking place in the middle east.

pressure both your local representatives and the current administration, the vice president of which is running for the president of the united states, to change course. refuse to volunteer, refuse to donate, refuse to commit to the democratic party and Kamala Harris.

demand representation. demand real, material policy change and if they don't give in, withhold your vote. period. it isn't just Gaza. it's the border. it's crime. it's her economic policy, or lack thereof. there are a million reasons to demand more from Kamala Harris.

or go vote for her if you're that scared of big bad orange man. do whatever you want to do. follow your heart and soul or whatever. but don't be disillusioned into thinking that you're actually doing anything meaningful by checking off a box next to the next genocidal fascist's name. by continuing to demand nothing from your politicians, you are sending the message that your vote is never at risk and nothing meaningful will ever change in this shithole country.

[jinzkss]

Sorry for sending here but tumblr doesn't let me send messages well I don't want anything specific I just want to cry my eyes out a bit ig but still gurl I love whatever you write so you don't have to worry if it'll be good or not cause I'll love it anyways <333. Also I have something on my mind for a jeongin story. What about "your parents, jeongin and you have dinner at your parents house but your dad doesn't like jeongin and you fight with your dad about it thinking jeongin wouldn't listen but he did and when you go home you talk about it but it ends up in a more romantic way" if you got what I mean I want it to start a bit angst and end up smut. It's complicated and it probably sounds horrible but I trust you I know you'll make it great. Thank youu. Love you unniee~ <333

I’m sorry this was rushed I’m on vacation rn

FORBIDDEN LOVE🚨

The air crackled with unspoken words, a storm brewing in the silence between us. My parents sat across the table, their faces set in lines of disapproval, their eyes fixed on I.N. He sat ramrod straight, hands clasped tightly in his lap, the picture of youthful innocence.

"We just want what's best for you, darling," my mother said, her voice laced with a sadness that mirrored my own. "And this... this isn't it."

"He's a boy band member," my father added, his tone a sharp contrast to my mother's gentle approach. "He's a fleeting fantasy, not a future."

Their words cut deep, each one a tiny knife twisting in my heart. They didn't understand. They didn't see the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about his music, the way his smile could chase away any cloud. They didn't see the quiet strength in his small frame, the kind heart that beat beneath his seemingly fragile exterior.

I choked back the tears that threatened to spill, knowing it would only fuel their fire. My I.N. was worth fighting for, worth defending against their prejudice.

The next few months were a blur of clandestine meetings and whispered promises. I snuck out to see him, hiding our love in the shadows. But the weight of their disapproval pressed down on me, suffocating my happiness. I knew I couldn't continue living a lie, but I also couldn't bear to give him up.

One day, I.N. took me to a secluded spot by the river. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. He took my hand, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

"I love you," he said, his voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of nature's symphony. "I always have, and I always will."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with an intensity that mirrored the fire in my own heart.

"I can't live without you," he said. "I won't."

And in that moment, I knew. I knew I had to fight. I had to show my parents that their fears were unfounded, that my love for I.N. was more than a fleeting fantasy, it was a promise for a future, a future that was ours to build together.

We didn't win over my parents overnight. It took time, patience, and countless conversations. But slowly, their hearts began to soften. They saw the love in our eyes, the way our hands sought each other's, the unspoken language only we could understand. They saw the strength of our bond, the unwavering commitment to a future built on trust and understanding.

I’m the end their approval doesn’t mean anything to me babe “he said” you’re the only thing that matters

[cupids-chamber]

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

What he smells like.. Winter days spent with him.. Underneath the mistletoe.. What he gets you for christmas.. One regret many consequences.. Loving him feels like.. Celebrating new years + new years eve with them Y/n want's to move dorms.. leads to the dorm leaders fighting over them.. Kissing his beauty mark! Voice messages he sends you.. Azul finds out his s/o is feeling a bit insecure in their body.. so he cheers them up..! Yandere!Dreaming of you, and falling for you via dreams.. only to meet you at NRC.. Singing "Kiss the girl" at monstro lounge, the equivalent of asking someone on a date in merman culture. Him with a "I don't date date people I work with" mindset, crush! Azul transforming into merform during a private meeting with you! How I feel about you?.. Well I.... May I kiss you?... Married for 24 hours but committed for life! Suggestive! What type of kisses do they love! Crowley makes the student body babysit a 'fake baby’ Yandere!Midnight dancing away with him.. Overblot! Yandere!All he wanted...

JADE LEECH

What he smells like.. Winter days spent with him.. Underneath the mistletoe.. What he gets you for christmas.. I really do love you.. Celebrating new years + new years eve with them Yandere!Dreaming of you, and falling for you via dreams.. only to meet you at NRC.. You and Jade play the guessing game, and he cant help but let you win! Singing "Kiss the girl" at monstro lounge, the equivalent of asking someone on a date in merman culture. Him with a "I don't date date people I work with" mindset, crush! How I feel about you?.. Well I.... A lovely dinner date with your beloved.. Suggestive! A deal to remember.... Suggestive! "Worked up, aren't we?" Married for 24 hours but committed for life! Suggestive! What type of kisses do they love! Crowley makes the student body babysit a 'fake baby’

FLOYD LEECH

What he smells like.. Winter days spent with him.. Underneath the mistletoe.. What he gets you for christmas.. Celebrating new years + new years eve with them Yandere!Dreaming of you, and falling for you via dreams.. only to meet you at NRC.. Singing "Kiss the girl" at monstro lounge, the equivalent of asking someone on a date in merman culture. Him with a "I don't date date people I work with" mindset, crush! How I feel about you?.. Well I.... Floyd gets lost in the supermarket while shopping with you Suggestive! "So mean shrimpy!" Married for 24 hours but committed for life! Suggestive! What type of kisses do they love! Crowley makes the student body babysit a 'fake baby’

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation from me.

[mesetacadre]

The Romanov children probably did not have to be killed to win the Russian Civil War (unless someone presents clear evidence the Whites having first-degree relatives to rally around versus more distant kin would have changed a thing), so I don’t think it’s a kill baby Hitler moment, but it’s not hugely meaningful that they died, nor nearly the greatest atrocity committed (although every human life lost is worse than the alternative, generally, relishing in suffering alienates you from the fellow masses of Man—not merely a moral consideration but a strategic one).

Communists should probably tailor their response to the death of the Romanov children to their audience and minor tactical edges in messaging, since it’s mostly meaningless either way, but I think in the specific case most people are willing to tolerate and accept the dehumanisation of royalty, so it’s likely fine, if not advantageous, to build mass/public consensus against excessive moralising concerning their deaths.

I do think it is underdiscussed how a key mode of moral judgement and analysis that remains undercultivated in self-proclaimed communists is something being a mistake (strategically or morally), but not discrediting of the broader movement. All too often, in response to bourgeois moralising, auto-communists will lay claim to the entirety of a strategy or set of acts, atrocity and trade-off and consequence alike. It would benefit such movements to practice ceding ground on historic/past/previous mistakes or even atrocities without losing their entire footing, both for reasons of actual learning from the past instead of reifying victory and error alike (it is notable that the previous attempt at communism lost, was defeated, did not work—self-evidently, so, and so something must change if we are to actually triumph next time) and because biting huge atrocity-shaped and sized bullets alienates building a class-conscious international proletariat.

First I'll reply to your last, broader point about admitting mistakes

When talking about the violence that is exerted during and after a revolution I don't think communists lack self-critique. What some do lack, perhaps, is a less-abrasive approach to communicating the idea, that being that wholesale "all murder is bad" arguments lack any merit and an understanding of how any change under any circumstances is effected. Violence is not ontologically bad, it's a tool whose character can change, and that's what ultimately matters when evaluating violence.

This being said, is revelling in suffering something that's not conducive to creating sympathy for socialism? sure. But I think you're assuming that the tone of a half-serious tumblr post is the same one we use when communicating with non-organized people, and it isn't. I think people forget that these are personal blogs, including mine. Almost nobody here is all of the time expressing their actual opinions about everything with nuance and a level head. Sometimes people like to joke around and maybe exaggerate or simplify their positions for the hell of it. Tumblr is not a platform for organizing anything, and nobody here is like actually actively representing their org/party.

The attitudes you may see, the "Stalin's only mistake was that he didn't kill more people" type of positions, are in the vast majority of cases a mix of Doing A Bit and frustration over hearing the same anti-communist arguments over and over and over again. No communist who has the platform to actually reach non-organized people and get them to join the party will actually express that kind of position when doing actual organizing work. The romanov children are also a topic that do not turn up when you're doing union work, most people don't really care about the specifics of the ussr and bolshevik revolution.

Onto the romanovs. The actual plan of the bolsheviks with the romanovs was probably to to try just the King and Queen and either execute them (which they would have deserved) or send them to reeducation along with the children, much like the CPC did with Puyi. Otherwise, why would they not only hold them prisoner but also move them at least once when the front approached? If the plan was to kill the whole family, why not just do it upon capture and save themselves the trouble?. Like the post I reblogged said, the decision to execute the entire family was done by the local soviet tasked with guarding them, it was not approved by the regional or central committee because it was a decision that had to be taken hastily, given the approaching frontline and logistical issues with postage.

I don't think it's very fantastical to assume that the soviet contemplated moving them again before execution, and that the decision to execute them was not taken lightly, especially without asking the Central Committee. The possibility of the Romanov family being recaptured by the whites was too great and they decided the best course of action was executing all of them to prevent a stronger restoration movement and have the actual Tsar being paraded around as the True Leader of Russia or something, and also give legitimacy to a possible exile government if they won. Was executing the whole family the best thing to do or necessary to win the war? I don't think so and I'd wager most communists believe this too, once you get past sarcasm or The Bit. And again, we're talking about a 150 note tumblr post, this is not a reflection of how the communists on here engage seriously with topics like this one.

[misshoneyimhomeagain]

To the anon, who's still reading my story 🤗

_

Chapter 10 -

Summary: In December, the pace quickens with a flurry of hockey games, work commitments, a bit of Christmas shopping, more work, and lively snowball fights;

Tags; William NylanderxOfc; “We never go out of style”

Author's Note: So, these chapters are growing a tad, but I can't help it; my imagination is on a run, I think (Sorry, not sorry); and I had a dream about a snowball fight with Willy, so, naturally, I had to include it; I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter! 😉

Words: 6.1K

_

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."

As the Sunday morning light slowly crept in, Julia stirred from her slumber, disturbed by the gentle nudging of Pablo at her feet. It took her a few moments to orient herself, but as she blinked away the remnants of sleep, a warm smile spread across her face. Nestled in the comfort of William's guest room, she had slept like a baby, and it seemed the two furry companions, Pablo and Banksy, had kept her company through the night.

Before tending to her morning routine and slipping into her clothes from yesterday, Julia couldn't resist capturing a snapshot of the dogs snuggled up in the bed and sending it to William. And as she made her way to the bathroom, she mentally thanked herself for always being prepared having a small bag with basic essentials and an extra pair of knickers in her bag. Then with the dogs fed and exercised during their morning stroll, she returned to the condo and indulged in a well-deserved morning coffee while responding to William's message.

Wonka: God morgon, hjärtat 😉 how did you sleep?

JJ: God morgon 😊 I swear it's been ages since I last had such a peaceful night's rest - how about you?

Wonka: I slept alright but we had to get up early to hit the road… 🥱

JJ: Early mornings have never been your forte 😂

Wonka: Nope, and they never will be! 😂

JJ: Perhaps that's why you're always fashionably late to most things? 😂

Wonka: That might just be the trick, babe! 😂

JJ: Anyway, the fur babies are fed and have had their morning walk, so I'll be heading out soon enough 😊

Wonka: Awesome! You're a lifesaver JJ ☺️

JJ: I know 😊 but it's my pleasure

After finishing her coffee, Julia said goodbye to the doodles and made her way home. She had just enough time to shower and get dressed before she’d meet up with Charlie and Clara for a lunch date. Making sure she’d remembered everything, she closed the door behind her, though she knew she’d come back soon enough later in the evening.

_

Monday came around, and Julia just paid a brief visit to the dogs, ensuring they were well and in good spirits. However, the following Tuesday marked another away game, and she found herself back on the familiar sofa at William's place, accompanied by the cheerful company of the dogs. With a rather delicious meal cooked (if she had to say so herself), her work laptop, and a warm blanket she was all set for face off. And the match turned out to be a massive victory for the Leafs against the Dallas Stars, securing an impressive 4-0 result. It was a game to remember, with the team firing on all cylinders and delivering a dominating performance.

Julia couldn't contain her joy and leaped in exhilaration, the dogs following suit with their boundless energy, and following the match, she had a quick post-game chat with William.

And before they knew it, the boys were back in Toronto, riding high on the wave of their success. The win had undoubtedly boosted their confidence and left fans eagerly anticipating the next game. The atmosphere in the locker room must have been electric after such a convincing victory, and the Leafs were proving once again why they were a force to be reckoned with in the league.

 _

Thursday 8th - TOR 5 - LAK 0

On this cold Thursday evening in December, Julia found herself at the home game in the company of Andrew and Tyler. Andrew had been swamped with work, and initially, he wasn't too keen on leaving the office for a hockey game. However, Julia recognised his need to take a break and unwind, and she convinced him to join her, which turned out to be just what he needed, and he appreciated Julia's care and thoughtfulness. As for Tyler, he was simply thrilled to be attending a hockey game.

Tyler had become a massive fan of William ever since their Halloween night adventure, and his enthusiasm had only grown after William had taken him for the special private training session. And as they settled into their seats at the game, the young boy's excitement was palpable. Even though he was just shy of eight years old, Tyler's passion for hockey knew no bounds. He eagerly rattled off hockey stats, player information, and game tactics as if he were a seasoned pro.

And as the game began, Tyler’s attention, as well as Julia’s and Andrew’s, was fully captured. The match was fast paced, the arena buzzing with excitement, and the Maple Leafs took control right from the start. The atmosphere was electric as the Leafs scored an impressive 5 goals, while the Kings remained at a frustrating zero.

And following the match, the usual group of partners and friends gathered outside the locker room, excitement filling the air.

While waiting for the players to finish their post-game showers and media obligations, Tyler's excitement was evident as he chattered away about the match.

"I swear this boy has to become a sports commentator," Julia joked, leaning slightly into Andrew, who responded with an agreeing laughter.

The hallway of the Scotiabank Arena was filled with high spirits after the convincing victory, with laughter and lively conversations permeating the air.

And as the rest of the players emerged from the locker room, exchanging smiles and energetic greetings with friends and families, William's laughter was unmistakable as he made his way toward Julia and her companions for the evening.

"Hey Willy!" Tyler exclaimed with unbridled excitement.

"Hey buddy," William warmly embraced the young boy in a hug, his handsome face sporting a wide grin as he fully embraced the role of Tyler's role model and favourite Leafs player. "How have you been? Have you been practicing real good?"

"Yes! I've also scored in almost every game," Tyler proudly shared, his eyes filled with pride and glory as he described the tricks that William had taught him. 

As the young boy's storytelling came to an almost breathless conclusion, Julia couldn't help but chuckle and smile. She found it incredibly endearing how good William was with his young fans and how much he loved and cared for them.

"Well, that sounds great, buddy," William applauded Tyler, before turning his attention to the blonde woman in front of him. "And how have you been?" His smirk added a playful touch to his question.

"Busy but good, thank you for asking," Julia replied with a warm smile.

"You've enjoyed my condo?" William's question was laced with a smug satisfaction, as he was well aware of the answer.

Julia, however, didn't want to give him the complete satisfaction. "Maybe..." she teasingly replied, earning a light chuckle from the Swede.

“I get it - it’s a nice place.”

They both shared a heartfelt moment of joy, basking in their connection, before William was called over to greet the numerous young fans who were eager to meet their idols, snap photos, and secure autographs. True to form, he welcomed them with his characteristic wide smile and boundless energy.

As the night progressed and the fans gradually left the area, the players, along with their partners and friends, gathered to chat about their Christmas plans. Everyone was super excited about the upcoming holiday however it seemed that the players’ schedule was rather packed. Nonetheless, it didn’t stop those around them to plan events and gatherings in between games and training sessions.

All the women had already made plans to go Christmas shopping while the guys were occupied, giving them the freedom to enjoy their time together.

As the night drew to a close, Tyler said his goodbyes to his hockey heroes, and Andrew took him home, knowing the young boy would drift off to sleep with dreams of an incredible evening. William, the true gentleman that he was, kindly offered Julia a ride home, an offer she gladly accepted. During the tranquil drive, soft Christmas tunes played through the car's speakers, creating a warm and festive atmosphere.

The two friends shared laughter about the evening's game and their heart-warming interactions with the young fans.

"You know, you're pretty amazing with the fans, Willy," Julia complimented as they neared her building, earning a playful smirk from William.

"Well, I'm just trying to impress you, JJ."

Julia chuckled, "I must say, you're doing a pretty good job." 

_

 

Saturday, 10th - TOR 5 - CGL 4 (OT)

The following Saturday evening, Julia found herself in the upscale ambiance of a high-end restaurant, her leg trembling subtly beneath the table as the attentive waitress served the delectable main course. Seated with Andrew, his boss, and one of the firm's most distinguished investors, Marcus Kirkland, the renowned Canadian investor known for both his financial acumen and bachelor status, the evening was meant to be all about business and fine dining. However, despite the mouth-watering dishes and the sophisticated atmosphere, Julia's mind was far from the elegant dinner in front of her.

The Toronto Maple Leafs were facing off against the Calgary Flames in a highly anticipated home game, and her heart raced with excitement at the thought of it. As the conversation drifted away from business and towards a more casual tone, Julia couldn't resist the temptation to eavesdrop on the animated discussion taking place at the neighbouring table. Two middle-aged men were immersed in a lively conversation about the game, sharing their expectations and predictions.

And her distraction did not go unnoticed by Andrew, who seemed to read her like an open book. Casually leaning in, a mischievous glint in his eye, he whispered, "Maybe if we speed through dessert, I can distract them, and you can hurry to the game," earning a light chuckle from Julia. She appreciated the jest, though secretly hoped he wasn't entirely kidding, considering the puck had just dropped.

As the seconds ticked away and Julia took occasional sips of the expressive and utterly delicious Bourgogne wine, her nerves threatened to become unbearable. The two men at the neighbouring table discussed the seesaw nature of the match: the Leafs had managed to score the first goal, only for the Flames to tie it up. Then came another goal for the Flames, taking the lead. But the Leafs were resilient, with William stepping up to score, bringing it back to a tie. The Flames once again pulled ahead, but just before the end of the second period, William came through to secure another tie. To put it mildly, it was nerve-wracking to listen to, with the game hanging in the balance.

Julia couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath as she found herself acknowledging her inner turmoil. Who would have thought she'd be sitting in a fancy restaurant, her leg trembling with anticipation, eager to attend a hockey game and mentally calculating the score instead of fully indulging in the sumptuous cuisine and fine wine?

So, when Marcus finally broke the casual conversation and expressed his gratitude to the trio of co-workers, Julia's heart quickened with the hope that she might actually catch the third period of the hockey match.

With a final round of handshakes and gracious expressions of thanks, Julia wasted no time. She hurried as best she could in her formal attire, braving the city's snow to hail a taxi. Fortunately, the restaurant wasn’t too far from the arena, and with a quick text to Charlie, she was on the move. As she reached the arena's doors, she quickly purchased whatever ticket was left to enter, and let out a relieved breath as she saw she was just in time to witness the final 13 minutes of the match. The score was once again a 4-4 tie, and as the final seconds ticked away, the arena was filled with anxiousness. However, all that distress was quickly dispelled when Mitch Marner scored in overtime after just 43 seconds, making the arena burst into cheers and shouts for the Leafs.

After the heart-pounding evening, Julia finally had a moment to calm down and let her heart return to its natural rhythm. She made her way to meet with Charlie and the rest of the girls, entering the hallway by the locker room, and she found herself amidst an electrifying atmosphere. Smiles stretched wide on everyone's faces, and the air was filled with laughter and the players' boisterous banter.

Navigating through the crowd, Julia made her way to William, who quickly noticed her, and he playfully jogged over to her and swept her up into a tight hug.

"I didn't think you'd make it," William cheerfully admitted with a wide grin. "Didn't you have a work thing?" He asked as he put her back down.

Julia's face mirrored his broad smile as she offered a light chuckle. "Well, yes, I did, but for some peculiar reason, hockey seems to have become more important to me," she laughed.

"Well, I get that," William replied, his voice softening a tad, their eyes locking in a moment.

"Just wouldn't miss it for the world," she chuckled. "And first star? Sounds like you actually made an effort tonight," she teased William, earning a light chuckle from the Swede.

They stood close, sharing a silent moment, their connection palpable among the other couples celebrating the victory. But their moment was soon interrupted by a boisterous voice.

"Damn, JJ!" Rasmus chimed in as he joined the two friends. "Aren't you a bit overdressed for a hockey game?" He playfully pointed out Julia's fitted pantsuit, heels, elegant hairdo, and striking makeup.

"What do you mean?" she retorted sarcastically. "I simply thought it was 'dressed to impress' night."

"Well, I'm sure you're impressing most people here, I know at least one," he cheekily winked, subtly referring to William. Though the comment passed with a chuckle, and William simply smiled before his friend moved along.

The chatting went on among the large groups of friends, and the girls quickly stroke up the conversation about their Christmas shopping spree they’d done during the day.

"I'm really sorry, sweetie, that you couldn't make it today," Charlie spoke in a gentle tone, offering Julia a friendly smile. She had been spending a lot of time with the other wives and girlfriends lately, and had been feeling a tad guilty about it. However, Julia quickly reassured her that she didn't mind at all and expressed her happiness at seeing Charlie bond so well with the team's partners.

So, she simply chuckled. “Oh, that’s ok - you know what they say; when your boss asks you to work on a weekend, you say yes because he pays you well and you kind of need the money,” she joked, earning a laugh from the girls.

"Maybe some other time, then?" Charlie responded with a smile.

"Absolutely," Julia agreed, and they shared a warm hug before resuming their conversation. 

However, William couldn't help but express a little sympathy for his dear friend, hearing she had missed out on the girls' shopping trip.

"You didn't get to go Christmas shopping?" he asked.

Julia gently shook her head, "No, I had to work all day yesterday… and today… and the same goes for tomorrow." She wore a small, resigned smile. "But I managed to take Monday off, so I'm hoping to make some time to visit a market."

William felt a touch of disappointment on her behalf. He knew how much Julia loved this time of year, and he wanted her to have as much fun as the others. Although he might not be the biggest enthusiast about Christmas, he appreciated the festive atmosphere and the joy it brought to his friends.

"How about we go together?" he then suggested, offering her a warm smile.

"Really? You’d do that?" Julia's eyes sparkled with excitement, and a broad grin lit up her face.

William couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Sure, why not? I'm not the best at Christmas shopping, but maybe you can give me a hand. I’ll come and pick you up."

"Deal!" Julia exclaimed with delight.

_

And on Monday, as arranged, William showed up to pick up Julia for their trip to the town market. However, when she opened the front door, he couldn't help but notice the redness in her eyes, as if she had been crying a bit.

"Hey, what's going on?" he inquired, stepping into her home.

"Oh, it's nothing," she responded with a slight smile as she put on her shoes and coat. "Just give me a moment to finish up – I'll be ready in a second."

"It doesn't seem like nothing, JJ," William persisted, his concern evident. "Come on, you can talk to me."

But Julia just chuckled softly. "It's really not a big deal, Willy. I've just been up all night, Face Timing with my dad while we watched England play football at the World Cup." She paused to examine her friend, who still appeared worried. "I miss him a lot, Willy... that's all – and it's just a bit tougher this year because I'm all by myself – single, and far from my family," Julia explained with a gentle smile and a soft tone.

William wasn't entirely convinced but decided to let the matter drop with a nod and a sigh as Julia was almost ready to leave. He understood how challenging it must be for her, with the breakup with her fiancé this year and a whole new city with new friends and no family around for the holiday season. However, not wanting to delve deeper and stir up emotions, he chose to make a playful remark instead.

"I like your jersey, by the way," he said with a grin as he noticed her Harry Kane t-shirt hanging on one of the chairs. "But I prefer it when you wear my name on your back."

Julia couldn't help but chuckle as she grabbed her bag and keys and opened the front door. "Well, if you ever become a professional football player – I promise I'll get a shirt with your name on it."

And as they made their way to the market, Julia couldn't resist adding some festive cheer to the car ride by playing some classic Christmas bangers.

"So, you’ve got any favourite Christmas songs?" she inquired, to which William simply shook his head. "Come on, there must be one you like?" She grinned, infusing the car with her holiday spirit.

But William remained nonchalant. "Honestly, I've never been a big fan of Christmas music."

"Oh, my goodness," Julia playfully exaggerated her surprise. "You're a Grinch, aren't you?"

William chuckled, offering a defence. "I'm not a Grinch. I've just never been big on Christmas, you know."

Julia brushed it off with a laugh. "Well, fortunate for you, I've got enough Christmas spirit for both of us." Then she began singing along to the songs, and William, catching the mood, joined in when he knew the words.

Upon arriving at the market, they wandered through the snow-covered scene, savouring the delightful scents of candies and hot chocolate. Fortunately, there weren’t many people there due to it being a weekday, so it was nice and quiet, beside the carols all around. While enjoying their leisurely stroll, they chatted about their childhoods in Scandinavia, sharing Christmas memories and much more.

Their conversations covered a wide range of topics, occasionally pausing to peruse the various items, as Julia was on a mission to find some Christmas decorations for her new place since her recent move.

"You know," William began in a soft voice, "a lot of the players were actually really touched by your offer to join your Christmas evening," he said, flashing a warm smile.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Julia replied. "I just want everyone to have a wonderful Christmas – it's a holiday that means a lot to me, and I guess I just really want to spread some joy and happiness… especially with all the challenges going on in the world."

William couldn't help but admire Julia's spirit. Her heart was brimming with love and care, and he found himself unable to contain his smiles as they strolled through the market.

"Oh, this is adorable," she suddenly exclaimed with excitement, spotting a collection of small figurines.

Meanwhile, William maintained a constant smile as he observed Julia dart from booth to booth, selecting Christmas decorations in all sorts of shapes and colours. And he had to admit, she had quite a good eye for decorations.

"Alright, I don't think I need much more for today," Julia chuckled. "How about you? Do you need anything?"

She glanced at William, who simply shook his head.

"I've told you, I'm not the biggest Christmas fan."

Julia studied her friend for a moment before sighing. "I'm guessing you don't have any decorations at home at all, do you?"

Once again, he shook his head and chuckled.

"Well, come on, Grinch, we've got a few more booths to check out then before I let you off the hook," she teased, before they continued on their merry way.

A few steps away, Julia's attention was captured by another booth selling Christmas ornaments, particularly one that she found beautiful. "Oh, this is gorgeous,” she commented as she held the ornament in her hand, turning it to examine it closely. It depicted a serene white and blue harbour scene with delicate gold text that spelled 'Merry Christmas.' The tiny details in the ornament, from the miniature ships in the harbour to the glittering snow on the rooftops, made it look like a miniature winter wonderland. For some reason, it evoked memories of Copenhagen, her place of birth, where she had spent many memorable Christmases.

However, upon closer inspection, her enthusiasm faded. "Oh, it's not as charming as I thought.”

William couldn't help but chuckle, intrigued by her sudden change of heart. "Why's that?" he inquired, picking up the ornament and letting out an amused "oh" as he glanced at the price tag, realising she might find it a bit pricey for a piece of Christmas decoration.

However, in his playful and helpful way, he simply chuckled and handed it to the vendor across the table. "We'll take it," he said with a wide grin.

"Willy!" Julia exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

"What?" he shrugged, grinning. “I’ve got it. Let's consider it my Christmas decoration splurge for the year." He offered her a friendly smile as he made the payment and handed the small bag to Julia to carry. "Although, it'd probably look a lot better at your place, alongside the rest of the decorations."

With a mischievous wink, he managed to elicit another laugh from Julia. "You're an idiot.”

"Yeah, but a lovable idiot,” he quipped.

Julia thanked the man at the booth just before he chimed in. "You've got a great boyfriend there," he said with a friendly smile.

"Oh no," Julia objected with a light chuckle, feeling a hint of awkwardness due to the man's remark. "He's not my boyfriend..." William joined in on the surprised chuckle, and Julia continued, "We're just friends."

The man simply smiled and then corrected himself. "Well, in that case, you've got a great friend."

"I know," she returned a friendly smile before the two friends continued to explore the final part of the market, filled with laughter and joy. And before they knew it, they had completed their delightful stroll, Julia’s hands full of small shopping bags.

"So, what's the plan now?" Julia pondered as she continued walking, unaware of the fact that William had paused just a few steps behind. "Fancy grabbing a hot drink or something?" she called out to the quiet surroundings.

But before she received a response, a swift, chilly surprise made contact with her back, and she let out a startled shriek. A snowball, expertly aimed by William, had found its mark. "Oh, no you didn’t!” she exclaimed, her voice a delightful blend of playfulness and mock outrage. She spun around, her cheeks flushed with the cold, her eyes a mixture of bewilderment and mock sternness. However, all she was met with was William's hearty laughter as he prepared to craft another snowball.

Amidst laughter and the sounds of their friendly snowball battle, Julia swiftly dropped her shopping bags. She scooped up a handful of pristine snow and was just about to launch her own snowball at William when his second shot smacked her shoulder.

In response, she retaliated with a well-aimed shot that hit him squarely in the face, leaving him momentarily stunned. Her eyes danced with triumph as she celebrated her successful assault, her laughter mingling with the pure, wintry ambiance.

But as William snapped out of his momentary surprise, he leaped forward with a laugh. The chase was on, and they were like carefree children in this winter wonderland. Julia made a dash for a large patch of untouched snow, leaving her bags behind as she giggled, her boots crunching the snow beneath them.

Naturally, William outpaced her, and soon caught up, pelting her with snow as she did her best to fight back. Their laughter was a harmonious symphony, and in the midst of their spirited battle, Julia ended up with her hands on her own face, wiping away the snow that had inadvertently ended up there. William seized this moment of distraction and playfully grabbed her by the waist and tossed her into the soft snow. As a defence, she pulled him down alongside her, and as they both landed in the fluffy snow, he ended up on top of her. Then the world seemed to pause for a moment as they lay there, the cold seeping through their clothes but their hearts warmed by the sheer joy of the moment. Their shared laughter faded into contented smiles as they caught their breath.

But as the seconds passed, a man behind William cleared his throat, breaking the spell of their playful entanglement.

"Are you alright, miss?" the man asked, and William quickly got to his feet, facing a stern security guard who had been alerted by the commotion and wanted to ensure it was all in good fun.

"Oh, yes, sir, I'm fine," Julia reassured, her rosy cheeks evidence of the fun she'd been having. William extended a helping hand to get her back on her feet beside him. "We were just messing about."

The guard, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, nodded and left the still-laughing friends.

“Shit,” William chuckled, brushing snow off his clothes.

Julia joined in his chuckle but then exclaimed, "Oh fuck… I'm absolutely drenched..."

"Yeah, me too..." William couldn't stop laughing, and as Julia gathered her bags, they leisurely strolled back towards his car. "So, how about dinner at my place?" William suggested, and Julia playfully turned to look up at him.

"You're always thinking about food, aren't you?” she casually teased. “But I think I really need to go home and take a shower after this," she added with a soft chuckle. 

"You can just shower at my place?" William casually suggested, a soft smirk on his face, which for some reason made Julia smile. How could he always act so nonchalant, she wondered.  

"Uhm, sure, if you don't mind," she timidly replied. 

"Why would I suggest it if I minded?" he chuckled as they reached the car, and Julia stashed the bags in the boot before settling into her usual spot in the passenger seat, quickly checking her makeup in the mirror.  

"Oh, shit..." she exclaimed. "I look like a fucking raccoon, Willy!” 

William took the driver's seat, adopting a playful tone. "Why are you blaming me for that?" he quipped as he turned to his friend, with a hearty laugh. 

"Because you started the bloody snow fight!"

William chuckled again. "Well, at least you're a pretty raccoon. Besides, you have to admit, it was a fun snowball fight."

Julia joined in his laughter. "It certainly was!" 

And with the car once again filled with more Christmas songs, they drove to William's place, both eager for a warm shower and the chance to snuggle up on the sofa. 

Upon arriving at William's place, Pablo and Banksy welcomed them by the front door, and while they both wanted nothing more than to pet the sweet little ones, Julia was desperate to change out of her soaked clothes. 

"How about I take them out for a quick walk while you hop in the shower?” William suggested with a soft smile, and Julia simply nodded with an ‘okay’, mirroring his smile. "You know where everything is?" he added with a chuckle. 

"Yes, Willy, I know where everything is.”  

And as William closed the front door behind him and took the dogs outside, Julia fetched a towel and made her way to the guest bathroom.

Allowing the warm water to cascade over her body, Julia closed her eyes and surrendered to the soothing embrace of the steam. Her body slowly thawed from the icy chill of the snow that William had playfully introduced her to. And as her mind began to wander, she reflected on the wonderful day they'd shared, the sweetness of him gifting her that ornament she adored, the laughter that had accompanied their leisurely stroll, and the fun of their snowball fight. She couldn't help but replay the memory of how he playfully wrapped his arms around her and sent them tumbling into the soft, fluffy snow, ending up incredibly close.

Lost in her thoughts, she smiled under the warm water, blissfully unaware of William's return to the condo. Hearing the sound of the running water he casually made his way into the steam-filled bathroom, where he couldn't help but chuckle as he observed Julia standing there with her eyes closed.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, playfully peeking his head inside the shower, his mischievous grin causing Julia to jump and hastily open her eyes.

"Willy! You've got to stop startling me," she exclaimed, but her reprimand was met with continued laughter from William. "Get out, you twat," she added, though she couldn't keep a straight face as they both shared a hearty laugh, and William made his exit from the bathroom.

As Julia stepped out of the shower, she couldn't help but notice that William, during her quick rinse, had thoughtfully placed a Maple Leafs t-shirt and a pair of joggers on the bathroom counter. A smile naturally crept across her face as she got dressed and then headed to the living room, where she found William shirtless, energetically exploring the contents of the fridge. His impressively fit physique was not lost on her, although she kept her thoughts to herself.

"I didn't know we wore the same size joggers?" she playfully inquired, joining him in the kitchen.

William chuckled at her comment. "To be fair, they belong to my sister," he confessed, his smile shining. "She left them here, and I've just had them in the closet." 

"Well, then please remind me to thank your sister for leaving them here for me to borrow," Julia said with a warm smile.

"Will do," William replied, a soft grin on his face. "Anyways, I'll take a quick shower as well, while you choose a movie and get some snacks ready?"

"Sure, but I thought we were having dinner?" she smiled.

"We'll grab some takeout later. Go ahead and find us a movie," William brushed off her practical suggestion with a casual wave.

"Oh no, don't give me that kind of power," Julia chuckled. "I'll just pick something like Harry Potter, even though I've watched it like a million times," she added. But when she saw the slightly perplexed expression on William's face, her laughter subsided. "What? You've never watched Harry Potter?" she asked in disbelief.

"It's not really my kind of genre..." William attempted to defend himself.

"Oh, dear... I really think I need to reconsider this whole friendship of ours, darling," Julia playfully feigned a disappointed look, causing William to burst into laughter.

"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything – why don’t you just go and put it on."

Julia paused for a moment, offering him a sweet smile.

"Willy, we don't have to watch it if you don't want to."

"JJ, why would I say yes to watching it if I didn't want to," he rhetorically asked.

"Alright," she simply replied, and William then made his way to the bathroom.

While he took his shower, Julia busied herself with gathering snacks and preparing the sofa. She draped a couple of blankets over it and found the movie on one of his numerous streaming services. And of course, following suit, the dogs came to join her.

A wide smile spread across William's face as he re-entered the living room and found all three of them cosily snuggled on the sofa. Taking his place right next to Julia, he wrapped himself in the blankets, drawing a slightly questioning look from her. 

"What? We have to sit close so we can share the snacks," he chuckled. "By the way, how many snacks do we even have here?" he asked, noticing the assortment of popcorn, Gifflar, and gummy bears.

"Well..." Julia admitted with a touch of nervousness, "I've sort of eaten most of your snacks while you were on the road, so I had to restock – and perhaps I went a little overboard."

“A little?” William chuckled, but then simply shook his head before he pulled her closer and pressed play on the film. "I'm just glad you're comfortable here," he almost whispered, his gaze soft as he looked at his friend beside him.

Julia met his gentle expression and returned the smile. "Me too."

As the movie played, William found himself surprisingly engrossed in it, though he couldn't quite pinpoint whether it was the enchanting film that filled him with warmth and comfort, the exhaustion from their adventurous day, the holiday spirit in the air, or simply the pleasant company of Julia.

However, about halfway through the movie, the growling in William's stomach became increasingly persistent, prompting them to order some proper takeout. So, they relished their meal for the remainder of the film, and by the end, they were both on the brink of falling asleep, their tummies content and warmed by the blankets.

"Mm..." Julia softly mumbled. "I really need to get going." She glanced at the clock. It wasn't particularly late, but the darkness had enveloped them, and the unmistakable sound of rain was tapping against the windows.

"Just stay here," William casually suggested, punctuating his words with a yawn.

"I can't, I've got work in the morning," she replied with a smile, her expression slightly pouting.

"Alright, then..." William reluctantly heaved himself up from the sofa. "I guess I'll have to drive you home," he sighed.

"Or you can just lend me your car," Julia playfully suggested, only to be met with an arched eyebrow from William.

"How about you take Pablo and Banksy with us and then go for a walk when you return, two birds, one stone," Julia cheekily proposed, secretly longing to snuggle up with Pablo in the passenger's seat.

"Oh, that's quite a clever idea, isn't it?" William chuckled. "But that actually doesn't sound like a bad plan."

Julia laughed lightly before heading to the bathroom to check on her clothes, which unfortunately weren't entirely dry yet.

"You can just wear what you're wearing right now," William suggested as he followed her into the bathroom. "Just give it back whenever," he shrugged.

Julia offered him a sweet, grateful smile before getting dressed to leave. Despite looking a bit comical in her cosy outfit and high boots, she was grateful for the gesture.

During the ride to her place, the speakers once again played soft Christmas songs, and the atmosphere between the two friends was comfortable and relaxed. And as they arrived at their destination, they both turned to face each other.

“Thank you for today, Willy,” Julia spoke softly. “It truly meant a lot to me.”

“Well, I had a lot of fun as well,” he replied with a soft smile. “I just want you to have a good Christmas here, JJ – I know it’s not easy being away from your family, so I guess I’m just trying to help.”

Julia couldn’t help but being moved by his words. William had a habit of acting all cool and tough when he was out on camera, but when he was with close friends, he’d always be extremely caring and sweet.

“You’re doing an amazing job, Willy… I really do love spending time with you, and it means more to me than you realise.”

The two of them shared another moment of soft intimacy, before Julia made her move to hug him goodnight, bid her farewell to the doodles, and exited the car to grab her bags and rush to the apartment building.

[saydams]

reminder to contact the white house if you are a usa voter to demand biden stop committing genocide in gaza. make it clear his actions have lost your vote. crucially, also tell him how he can earn it back.

heres some possible messages you could send if you need help coming up with one (chnage the wording a bit)

this one's conciliatory

President Biden, please change your actions in gaza. i have voted democratic in every election since i turned 18. i would hate to miss one now. i am revolted that you are helping israel commit genocide. it is appalling. i cannot vote for a president who would do this. you could stop it all. instead you help murder civilians. i cannot vote for a president who is doing this. stop. i do not want trump as president. but i cannot vote for you unless you stop arming israelis and helping them obliterate an entire people. you must stop. please. it will break my heart to not vote. but i will do what i have to. you must stop supporting israel's invasion, looting, murder, and destruction of cultural sites. your support of israels actions are hurting the entire world. you have lost my vote. i hope you will earn it back. ONLY reversing course on israel will give you back my vote.

this one's angry

President Biden, your actions in gaza are despicable. I have voted democratic in every election since i turned 18. your support of israel's genocide of the palestinian people will break that streak. if trump wins all his horrors will be laid at your doorstep. you had the power to stop israel's atrocities and instead you continue to arm them and defend them on the world stage. you are allowing and helping in the murder of civilians. i cannot support such a president, no matter the cost to me or my country. you must stop supporting israel's invasion, looting, murder, and destruction of cultural sites. your support of israels actions are hurting the entire world. you have lost my vote. ONLY reversing course on israel will give you back my vote.

[zevranunderstander]

i think the esc is so... hm. because on the one hand it's a shitty colonialist and imperialist festival that is trying to rebrand colonizers into quirky modern nations and is so performative in all political messages and their collaboration with israel is literally unforgivable and its literally just nations giving each other points bc they want to politically appeal to them in the weirdest and most pathetic way ever etc.

but also. a lot of the culture of the organizers is in direct opposition to what the fans really watch for? like, macron or whomever isnt watching and personally taking notes on which of his neighboring countries voted for france, but the juries act like all politicians do this, and they use their time hosting as this massive branding and propaganda campaign, and they try to come across as kind of "modern and relatable", but don't want to be the "weird" entry, like. for westerners, this is kind of about "prestige", while at the same time they are refusing to send any compelling candidates?

and i think to the countries and organizers and the politics behind the esc this event is about showing a politically favorable image of their country that seems modern and prestigious, while the actual appeal of the show is to find artists that usually arent found on the international market and give a stage for more camp and artsy performances, and the people watching want an entertaining time, where they see songs that actually stand out and are fun to watch and listen to, whereas the juries just vote for an entirely different set of entries.

so like, a lot of people are watching it for the camp and queer and "unique" entries, while it's actually a show made for the boring ballads and shitty pop songs, because all the jury and the esc care about is, what is gonna sell and what isnt (this might take a new interesting turn, now that tiktok also has a big say in which songs become popular and which ones dont, but right now they know that generic pop has more sales than "too quirky" entries)

this is all ignoring that the thing was soooo obviously rigged this year so that they can do the "50th anniversary of ABBA" next year in Sweden, and that the jury almost always seems to tend to give points based on politics and not on music, and that i genuinely think that they are even manipulating the audience votes occasionally so that certain entries that win arent "ridiculed" because they got like, 21 points from the audience and 360 points from the jury.

and its like. probably 60% of the audience are queer people or people who are watching to see fun & campy and queer entertainment, and the showrunners know this, so all their bits are queer, they have queer hosts, they use their show break for drag performances and talk about "the first gay kiss of eurovision" and there's pride flags, and the iconic "quirky" entries make reappearances with new songs, while the boring ones almost never get a big re-invite. but they do all of this as a sort of fake promise, like, "yes our show is so gay and so camp and so fun and legendary for the fun entries hahahaha, anyways the jury vote goes to some guy pretending to be Imagine Dragons and none of the interesting entries because we cannot widely market homosexuality", and only when the audience vote is so truly overwhelmingly for one entry that they can overpower the juries, it promises marketability.

they will never abolish the juries because the juries exist so that marketable songs win that bring the ESC a lot of money, the type of hosting and their internal politics will never change because this is a contest that they can use to generate sympathies to a country. this whole thing is a fucking colonialist's PR campaign, like, "yeah, israel has a bad rep, but look at how cool all of these places in israel look and how fun and modern and #feminist and #gay our entries are! how could we possibly be an imperialist force who is actively commiting genocide?"

the esc is inherity tied to nationalism and imperialist propaganda, and while it pretends to care about international music in people's native tongue and artists that usually wouldnt be on a international stage and queer entries of all kinds, it really only cares about money and promoting one's own image as a country and that is never going to change.

and i don't think you can't at all watch the event, but it is literally insane how few people who watch it are aware of any of the politics happening within the event and who call it the "gay event of the year" or whatever with no idea that they are being sold and pandered to so that they spend more money on a product (votes and tickets), and give their undivided viewing time to a program that you can only call a continent-wide propaganda event. i hope i make sense

[fleshmechsystem]

TW: Body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria, depression, self harm, trauma dump

I think the issue I have the most is that I hyper focus on my negatives.

Right now I'm thinking I'm disgusting for eating rice lately considering my appetite has gotten... Larger as of late.

Metabolism been acting faster than usual.

But I'm afraid it's doing something to my body. I don't want to get fattened up like when I was a kid. Sure being a little chubby isn't bad, but when you have a specific body image you want in mind it just... Fucks with you.

Now that I realized I'm agender new problems basically popped out that I didn't realized I even had before.

Sometimes I don't even feel androgynous enough with my stupid face. My stupid voice and my stupid hair.

I look like a goddamn brute. I look like my dad.

It's probably one of my reasons why I get so... Distraught. Alongside my other issues like severe undiagnosed paranoia (I have signs I have it) and just tendencies of being... Not nice to myself when I get in my breaking point...

I honestly start to see a warped version of myself. Because of my many MANY issues, fears and just things I genuinely have no control over I start to just disregard my own life to have it's own meaning because I don't feel satisfied with what I am and what I have.

I don't give a fuck about the financial stuff since money means nothing to me and I've come to accept that material shit won't make me happy, well unless it's plushies then maybe capitalism can win for a bit.

But all I'm saying is that. I don't have the life I want. I don't have the body I want.

I have nothing I want.

Right now I'm in the pre transition phase shit. Even then I've started to look less masculine over the years but it's... Not enough.

It's never enough.

Right now I'm just sitting in the bathroom contemplating if I should harm myself or even have the absurd idea or carving parts of my disgusting cancerous body.

Sculpting it like a lunatic.

None of this would've happened if I wasn't fed a lot as a kid. None of this would've happened if I wasn't abused.

There are outside factors there too to be fair but. I've struggled with this for years that even with me starting to finally get back to my old sunday routine of working out.

I still don't see progress.

And with my growing appetite I worry that I will start to look disgusting again.

I have nothing against other people's bodies. I really don't. I can find someone cute no matter what. But this body?

I don't like it.

This vessel.

This vessel isn't me.

I want to escape from it.

But doing that will basically kill people that don't want to die.

And right now I don't want the others to die while I'm still sane.

If this goes on long enough I'll probably start saying shit like actively fake claiming the others because I want to just push them away. Make myself not feel bad for killing them.

It isn't nice.

I never really was a patient person.

Even now I still struggle with letting my emotions in check. I physically can't even play online games because I just... Lose myself.

I'm not a good person. I never was, but at the same time that's what I've been told.

Even with their efforts, their abused will still linger and they chose to be ignorant with how hurtful they get sometimes.

Good thing I'm not a host anymore. No one is. At any time someone else could puppet the vessel and stop me from doing something silly with my funny wrist using my funny nails.

I guess. I guess I just feel like shit.

Life was never fair so I just have a cluster of problems that makes me think that the only way I can get what I want in life is through violence. Pain. And all that shit.

Honestly I lost count of wanting to commit crimes as a way to send a message. Of course for legal reasons I haven't committed them. Although I did burn a church down in project zomboid.

This is the reason why I just can't understand the empathy people express towards someone like me, who's admittedly messed up.

I'm messed up. My past was messed up.

I just. Sent myself down in this loop of hating myself over having issues because I just can't accept people love me.

I can't understand the very idea of relationships.

Even now I have issues with that with some psychology bullshit stuff. Like I have trouble with my feelings towards people. My brain goes Person is nice towards you = Love??

Like it could be platonic love but it feels really weird.

I think this is what happens if someone doesn't use a condom. You get someone like me to be born.

Hell they weren't even prepared for it. "Dad" had to go abroad just to support us making me think he doesn't even exist to the point I didn't recognize or knew him when he came back, "mom" works and was barely home to give me the affection I needed or just having a parent and not a babysitter, not to mention someone with anger issues.

Whenever I fucked up as a kid I get yelled at. Or maybe Riley did. Memory is blurry since I can't tell who's past it really was even if Riley was the host.

Eventually the whole incident happened when the split really did happen or at least according to Riley.

Kid swore, instead of being scolded, they got a handful of salt shoved down their throat.

Even now I still remember what they did to Riley. To us.

I can't forgive someone like that even if they claim they've "changed" or "feel bad about what she did" I don't forgive someone who chooses their own entitled view of themselves and only feels guilty about themselves over us.

Maybe it's fucked up love, but I don't want that love, neither does Riley I think.

We're not free yet. But honestly my relationship with the former host is fucking weird.

I don't know. Close feeling. Maybe it's the trauma bond but. It's weird.

And I really don't want it to be romantic either so I will say it's platonic certainly.

But even then being close to someone you've never met for years is weird.

Fuck.

Why am I like this?

What fucking fear and hunger god did I angered to have issues? This sucks.

I want a refund.

-Cal