#is so thoughtful person and a role model for all of us

[womanclature]

I can’t exactly assume that OP intended to shame people who "say they can't watch/play/read anything slightly upsetting or scary or challenging because it's... upsetting or scary or challenging,” but to me it does sound like shame (and it sounds condescending to boot). I think it sounds shameful because OP said “challenging,” seemingly implying that a person’s entertainment content ought to be “challenging” for them, at least sometimes (frequency not specified). Whether or not someone’s entertainment should challenge them is probably a longtime argument in the art community. I believe that part of our role in life as humans is to try to be the best version of ourselves that we can be (Nietzsche’s “will to power”), and I agree that personal growth rarely, if ever, comes without some challenges. Notice I am not saying “No art form is allowed to contain challenging content.” Not only do I disagree with such censorship, I think it would be detrimental to exercising our capacities for coping with hardship. I am asking, “Does each and every individual's unique diet of entertainment have to contain some minimum amount of challenging content?” Requiring some minimum amount of challenging content – this feels a little like putting brussel sprouts in chocolate cake. That’s not really what chocolate cake is for, is it? Life is challenging. Everyone experiences challenges from life to varying degrees. Some people perceive that they experience more challenges than others. For example, my entire childhood lacked role models, guidance, emotional support, stability, safety, peace, and even privacy at times. As a result, I have a higher baseline of tension in my body at all times. So when I approach entertainment, I feel less safe consuming upsetting content than would the viewer with a healthier, more supportive background. Thus my tolerance for upsetting material has different limits. (Do I adhere to those limits? No, not always, because I am also good at ignoring my body’s stress signals, to my own detriment, of course.) Therefore, I would say to the person who is going through a difficult time, who feels exhausted, who can’t think any more thoughts at the moment – I don’t think you should let a stranger on the internet make you feel ashamed for re-reading "Pride and Prejudice” for the third time, or rewatching “Gossip Girl,” or doing whatever it is you do that makes you feel good inside. In fact, I think some degree of escapism can actually be healthy. Humans are unique in how “online” their brains are at all times, and I don’t think evolution completely equipped us with any innate mechanisms to compensate for that (often very stressful) fact. So, we manufactured them. And that’s ok so long as we aren’t hurting ourselves or repeatedly missing out on important opportunities “irl.” Let’s encourage each other to grow and challenge ourselves. But let’s not shame each other for having creature comforts. Everyone has his or her own path. We can choose to be respectful of that path.

whenever people say they can't watch/play/read anything slightly upsetting or scary or challenging because it's... upsetting or scary or challenging all i can think of is this lol

[tokiro07]

Ichi the Witch ch.18 thoughts

[Oh What a Feelin' When We're Fightin' on the Ceilin']

(Topics: character analysis - Desscaras/World Hater, speculation)

Oh yeah, baby, this is what I've been waiting for!!! Now this is a ceiling battle!!!

Where Ichi needed to literally knock himself out just to take out the first wave of World Hater's Lancemen, Desscaras was able to do the exact same thing casually AND with style

Iskandar is an absolutely sick Magik design, both beautiful and terrifyingly nonhuman, and it's clearly not even Desscaras' strongest move! She's playing with World Hater, aiming to humiliate and torture him while she systematically searches out his trial, so there's no way her opener is her best move, especially when you consider it doesn't tie into her title as the Abyssal Witch

I said a while ago that Monegold's summary of Togeice was more tell than show and that it didn't really give a good impression of just how skilled Togeice really was since Nishi didn't provide a frame of reference. This chapter, though, is a very effective case of show-don't-tell, as we get a direct comparison between Desscaras, Ichi, World Hater, and even Togeice

Tipping the Powerscales

Togeice was stated to have 16 acquisitions to her name, which, without an established average, must be assumed to be a pretty high number, certainly above average. It was stated in such a way that it didn't seem like Togeice was a record holder, more like a reasonable deviation or two from the mean

Desscaras, on the other hand, when asked directly how many Magiks she's acquired, simply states "who knows? Lost count." Not only does this mirror World Hater's nonchalant dismissal of how many humans he's killed, but it illustrates both Desscaras' skill and her mentality regarding it

As she says this, we can see twenty-five magic stones floating around her, thirty if we assume the ones on her scabbard didn't join the rest. She has Togeice beat by at least nine, but the implication is that there are more we still aren't seeing

And to Desscaras, this is perfectly natural

She's the best, after all. The world's greatest, most powerful Witch. Why wouldn't she have a ton of acquisitions to her name? For her, acquiring a Magik isn't even a source of pride anymore, it's just another rock to add to the pile

If my read here is correct, then that goes back to what I said back in ch.2: Witches don't respect Magiks as sentient beings. If not for the fact that she needs to do so in order to use a spell, Desscaras doesn't seem the type to remember the name of a defeated foe, at least not with how she's presenting herself here

As I see it, this could lead to two very interesting angles. Either Desscaras represents everything that's wrong with the current Witch system, or...

This is a bluff

Poker Face

As I've stated repeatedly, World Hater is an actively dispassionate individual, going out of their way to hide their expressions and executing their goals without emotional investment. When Desscaras cites that World Hater destroyed her home, World Hater retorts that her emotions are worthless, as they nihilistically view the world as destined to fade into nothingness

This is a hilarious thing for the World Hater to say, since they explicitly include "hatred" in that list of worthless emotions, but again, they've never referred to themselves as World Hater, that's just a name that Mantinel gave them

Anyway, Desscaras' detached ignorance of her own accomplishments perfectly mirrors World Hater's ignorance to their own atrocities, which could either be a way to show how similar the two of them are or an explicit dig at World Hater's attitude meant to evoke a response

If the former, then Desscaras is a negative role model for Ichi, one that he needs to surpass to prove that he is correct for how he values life. If the latter, and Desscaras reveals that she does, in fact, know exactly how many Magiks she's acquired and remembers all of their names, faces, personalities, trials, etc., then we'll know that she's not the strongest Witch just because she has the most acquisitions, but because of the dedication and care she put into every single one

Either way, her taunt in this moment makes her feel every bit as powerful as she's been purported to be and then some

And World Hater definitely feels it too

Time To Get Serious

The fact that World Hater has been pushed far enough to be concerned with how many Magiks Desscaras has acquired is already proof enough that they acknowledge her strength, but even without that, it should be clear that she has the power to back up the threat that she's going to take her time experimenting

After all, she's leagues above Ichi

As Desscaras said, Ichi was able to earn World Hater's direct attention with one spell. If World Hater truly didn't view Ichi as a potential threat, they would have just let him fall into the forest and be trampled by the Lancemen without paying him any heed

Instead, they deliberately lift Ichi back up, with the intention of warping him with their own hands. How else could they be absolutely sure that he's dead?

Again, if Ichi could register as a future threat, then Desscaras must register as an immediate threat. And if that's true, then there's no way that World Hater is going to just let her have her way. No, if she wants their trial, she's gonna have to earn it

However, there is one flaw in Desscaras' premise: she believes that World Hater tried to kill Ichi out of fear, but we know better. We saw World Hater's smile last week: they were excited that someone might be able to figure out their trial, they just had to suppress that feeling to focus on the task at hand

With Desscaras, though? They're not going to be able to afford to be casual about this. World Hater is going to need to put their everything into this fight: both their power and their emotions

This chapter was all about giving Desscaras her shine, the Good News phase, but next chapter? It's World Hater's turn: the Bad News phase

I don't think Desscaras is going to die here, but she's not acquiring the World Hater either. No, World Hater is going to show us just how Big of a Bad they intend to be, and what we're going to have to look forward to down the line

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[girlsoutlate]

the lead up to price sharing his birdie with his men, and badly hidden curiousity on their behalf

i tried just writing the meeting but i found it difficult so i wrote this as a little inbetween piece, enjoy

fem reader described as having hair that can be tied up, slight age gap (older price) THE BOYS ARE NOSYYY

the 141 can be considered nosy by nature, but have the excuse of it being their job. some are more open than others about their home life. ghost seemed to live quite a solitary life whereas gaz and soap had shared family pictures. nevertheless, there was some idea of each others lives outside of the military. but one person stayed an enigma: captain john price. maybe because it felt strange to know so much about their superior as well as role model. price had never shown an aversion to talking about his life, but the 141 had never asked- shocking to say the least. they all had their own theories. gaz thought he used to be married but it ended in a disastrous divorce- yet there was no trace of any mrs price. soap guessed he liked the company of pretty women, if you catch his drift. but never heard any boasting from his captain. ghost concluded he was similar to him, perhaps with a few more friends and a family, there was no reason to think otherwise. yet none of them guessed there was gorgeous thing like you john was all to eager to return home to each night, until now.

the 141 had been seeing signs of a woman close to their captain for about a month now. it started with a faint hint of fruity perfume under his cigar musk and aftershave, that was out of place on such a man. gaz pointed it out, making the rest of the 141 laugh. however it was forgotten about by the next hour, no one thought anymore of it. then the next day a hairband around prices wrist. he must have forgotten to take it off after you taught him how to plait your hair the night before. it was a work in progress. the simple black band was noticed by ghost while exchanging paperwork. he brushed it off despite finding it a little odd. the first piece of solid evidence they find of the captains mystery woman was his lockscreen.

they were in their common room, taking a break from the never ending pile of paperwork. squashed on the small couches they were joking about the new recruits, which was one of their many favourite topics to complain about. the hum of fluorescent lights was drowned out by their banter. mugs with dregs of coffee in them and a half empty pack of fags sat on the table. while talking, prices phone lit up with a notification. soap, the nosy shite, immediately noticed his lockscreen. a picture of a woman with her back to the camera: gossamer hair and skin that glowed in the sunny view she was admiring. with an eyebrow quirked, soap turned to his captain and asked too casually "whose tha'?". without missing a beat price replied smugly "the missus". for once soap shut up, and looked at the others with his mouth slightly agape, checking if they heard the same thing. ghost let out a grunt which they now knew to be a laugh. gaz's eyes were growing wider by the second. price seemed done and returned to whatever the previous subject was, which had quickly become forgotten. at that point gaz, soap and ghost were a pack of dogs with a bone. who was prices pretty birdie?

over the next month or so the boys had heightened interest on their captains home life. of course they cared about the details of the captains weekend plans, did he fancy going to that quite pricey restaurant that had opened up? it was necessary for them to ask the source of his dinner that evening, did he know the recipe? the competitive streak in them was made apparent sooner rather than later, all fighting to get more important information than the others. even though, if anything was discovered it was immediately shared. one day gaz stumbled upon gold.

he was in prices office, relatively spacious with a small couch in the corner and a bookcase in another. whilst chatting about an upcoming meeting, a buzz emanated from prices phone. before gaz could read the caller id price snatched it up and grumbled "won't be a minute". thinking it was a work call, gaz was surprised to hear his captains voice suddenly becoming as soft as it could. turning to face the window johns small smile wasn't missed as he murmured "hi love, how are ya?". staying still and quiet as to not get kicked out, gaz listened to the chirpy voice that could be faintly heard through the tinny phone. with a content sigh john replied "steak for dinner? tha's perfect". a wide grin crept on to gaz's face. a giggle and another sentence could be heard before price replied "of course i'll pick tha' up for dessert" both of you let out a small laugh when john continued "are ya tryna kill me?". just when gaz thought this couldn't get any better, price fondly said to you "i'll see ya at home sweet'eart". as he hung up and turned back around the sergeant found it near impossible to dampen his grin.

john had told you of his boys' detective work, which he considered shoddy at best. as you were flitting around the kitchen that evening, you were bemused at your boyfriends recount of the day. when he described his sergeants face after the phonecall you let out a loud laugh, bouncing off the tiles of your cosy kitchen. john sat by the table watching you busy yourself by the counter, as he nursed his beer he couldn't help but take in your appearance. tendrils of loose hair curled around your ears, escaping from your loose ponytail. although hidden by one of his tops and comfy jogging bottoms, he could make out the slopes and peaks of your body that he was all too familiar with. as you turned to face him, he was drawn closer to the twinkling reflection of light in your eyes. before he realised it he was towering over you, eyes raking over your form with the beer abandoned on the table. you looked up at him, hand on your hip. "john are you even listening to me?" you asked, face comically blank. "sorry doll, what was that?" he huskily replied, slightly dazed. "pass me a can. please?" you asked, adding a awfully fake cheesy smile at the end.

pressing a kiss to your lips as an apology, he was about to pull away before you deepened it. pulling his barrel of a body against yours, his mouth slightly opened. the bitter taste of beer and cigars mingled with sweet cider from yours. pulling back, slightly breathless, johns blown pupils met yours. "yer so gorgeous, don't know wha' i did to deserve ya" he muttered, the closeness of his voice making you slightly weak. as his calloused thumb brushed over your warm cheek you coyly commented "what would your men think if they saw you like this?". for a moment john faltered, thinking about how they would feel if they saw him being intimate with someone like you- let alone how he would feel. his flushed cheeks were the subject of your teasing for the rest of that night.

while eating your dinner you brought up the 141 since you were already talking about them. you knew your boyfriend felt a responsibility to look after his girl, despite you being more than capable. whenever his deployment was brought up it was usually by him. telling you where he went and anything that he thought might interest you, from an aspect of their culture to a cute cat he saw. sometimes he brought trinkets back. but never about what he had done, or what he had ordered to be done. so the members of the 141 were more characters in your head than real people. you knew their names and basic personality but that was all. so when you asked "how much do they know about me?" it was rather tentative. john paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, thinking. shaking his head he replied decidedly "not much, besides y' mine. they're nosy fuckers, practically begged me to show them a proper picture of you". you hummed in response, finishing your mouthful of food. quietly you muttered "maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they knew more". letting the question hang in the air, you picked up the last forkful of food which went down your throat in a lump. john was silent, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

he considered your proposal, if his girl was concerned then it was worth thinking about. plainly he asked "why?", trusting you to be open. "well, you spend a lot of time with them- i'm not jealous. its just that.. you trust these men with your life, i don't even know what they look like." pausing for a second you continued "its more for my sake than theirs. if i knew them past their names it would make it, well, easier to be apart from you for so long. i know you can look after yourself, but i- i'm always gonna worry about you." with that said, the air in the kitchen grew heavier. you kept your eyes glued on to your plate as johns gaze from across the table burned in to you.

the captain realised that you wanted to know more, for your wellbeing rather than the 141's. now, he realised it was quite a simple conclusion. he imagined his girl cold and alone in an empty house, no idea where he was or who he was with, for weeks at a time. five minute phone calls spent trying to find better service than speaking to each other. no idea who john was fighting or how difficult it was. no clue about who he was trusting his life with in your absence. how on earth could he not expect you to have an issue with it? he kicked himself, he made his sweetheart worry. he could have prevented it and he didn't, too focused on a successful mission than the only thing he wanted to return home for. price knew this had to change, or risk isolating you even more than he does because of his job.

john stood up, chair screeching on the kitchen tiles while he sighed "fuckin 'ell i'm an idiot". gathering both plates and putting them on the counter, he ran a hand across his face and turned to you. just as you took a breath to take it all back, john interrupted you: "you should meet 'em". you cocked your head to the side, looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "whats changed your mind?" you enquired, curious about the sudden change. replying half-heartedly, still deep in thought "just thinkin' about you here on your own, worryin'". taking a deep breath he stated "i'll talk to them about it. you". walking up to him with a small smile on your face you leant up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, beard tickling your chin. "thankyou john" you whispered. reaching up to get the plates the rumble of his voice deep in his chest saying "anythin' for you doll" reverberated against your back.

as he turned to get the dessert out of the fridge the most pressing question yet entered his mind: how would he ask the 141 to meet his birdie- without them going mad?

thankyou for reading :))) each like, comment and reblog is greatly appreciated. this is more for context to the main meeting that has been stuck in my head for ages. if you liked this keep an eyes out!!!

heyyy guys long time no see. had a crazy two weeks, found out my boyfriend was practically cheating on me for the last month of our relationship and he already has a new girlfriend after two weeks. apart from that im grand. sorry it took so long for me to post properly again, thankyou for being patient

[bucketofpaint]

Danny is Damian's clone.

He's well aware of it. He wasn't just any clone. He was the very first. That was the difference between Danny and other clones. He was made before the League started using brainwashing and stuff into their cloning process.

When Danny was fresh out of the tube, the League had sat him down and explained his the purpose of his existence, gave him some intense training, and immediately tossed him out into the world.

But the thing was, he just didn't care. He had absolutely no loyalty to his creators, and he had no desire to kill/kidnap his original. So he just started walking. The next thing he knew, he was at some orphanage in Illinois.

And then the rest was history. He got adopted by a pair of enthusiastic scientists and their red-head daughter, got his own name, and he could finally start living his own life.

Danny had put the past behind him and had barely even thought about it at all for a long time. That was unill his original showed up at his school.

----------------

Damien was annoyed. He was stuck at some random Illinois town (supposed to be the most haunted place in the world, which was a bunch of ludicrous.) On a transfer program. He tried convincing Father how illogical it would be, but Father had told him it would be good for him to meet new people.

___

Danny was annoyed.

"I don't understand what the big deal about him is anyways," Danny complained.

"He started being the ceo of Wayne Enterprise when he was a teenager." Sam countered.

"Ok, so, nepotism."

Sam rolled her eyes. "I still don't understand why you're so against him."

"One, billionaire. Two, Tucker is way cooler than Tim Drake.

Sam's eyes soften. " Tucker is just gone for a few weeks."

Danny's cheeks felt warm. "I never said anything about that. I just want Tucker to find a cooler role model, is all.

Sam gave him an all-knowing look. "Well, if you say so. I'm going to get in line."

Sam, all ways waited last to get in the lunch line. Claiming she didn't want to hold up line when the lunch ladies had to get the vegetarian option. Which was fine, but now that Tucker was doing the dumb transfer student program, all he could do was eat his mediocre lunch and mindlessly play on his phone.

Untill someone grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the cafeteria into the hallway. Danny turned around to face the person. He froze at the sight of his own face. Or well, a glaring rich kid version.

"Oh, it's you." Danny said nonchalant, even though he was screaming inside.

"You're not going to play dumb, clone?"

"No, why would I, The resemblance is uncanny.

"What are you doing here?" His original demanded

"You dragged me here."

His original scowled. "You know what I mean, clone. I won't hesitate to end you."

"Just trying to go to school, honest."

Original glared at him, scanning him with his eyes. The grip on Danny's arm loosened. " I'll be watching you, clone."

" Whatever you say, template."

Danny walked back to the cafeteria, blocking out the yells of rage behind him.

___

It was about a week of Damian watching his clone, and he was confused. At first, he thought the league sent the clone to trade places with him before he went back to Gotham, but now he wasn't sure. The Clone seemed to fit in the community to well to have show up recently, but that didn't disprove the theory entirely. It could be a long-term plan from the League. They could be responsible for putting the transfer program in place in the first place.

The other theory was that the clone escaped and made a life for himself, but that didn't explain how he got past his programming.

After the last period, Damian found his clone and pulled him aside.

"What do you want?" His clone asked, irritated.

"You're different then other clones, explain."

"I don't know. I didn't really stick around very long to find out."

"What about your programming?"

"I didn't have any?"

Damian thought about it before giving a small nod. "You don't seem to be a threat, but I'll still keep my eye on you, clone."

"I've got a name, you know." He held out his hand. "Danny Fenton, nice to make your acquaintance."

Damian heistently shook his hand. "Damian Wayne."

That started their unsaid agreement. You don't mess with me, I don’t mess with you. They interacted with each other sometimes, but not very offen. They were impartial to one another, and both sides weren't very keen on getting to know each other. And that was their relationship till the day Damian was leaving.

Damian was waiting for the bus when Danny approached him.

"What do you want, Daniel?"

"I told not to call me that, but uh, here." Danny handed a piece of paper to him. "It's my phone number if you ever need help from the League or anything."

Damian slipped the paper into his pocket. "Give me your phone." Danny handed over his phone, and Damian started typing.

"What are you doing?" Danny asked.

"I'm putting my number in. If you ever require assistance."

Danny smiled, "Thanks."

____

A few months later.

Tim was peeking over a corner.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked.

Tim didn't say anything and just waved him over. He walked over and stared in aw at what he saw. Damian was slouched on the couch, his hair messy, playing on his phone.

A few minutes later, Jason joined.

"Am I hallucinating?" Tim whispered.

"Nah, I don't think so... unless we're all hallucinating." Jason whispered back.

"Do you think he has brain damage or been possessed or something?" Tim asked.

Dick shook his head. "That seems unlikely."

"This is so trippy. I've never seen him wear anything that casually like ever.

"What are you imbeciles doing?"

"We're watching Damian."

All three of them froze and turned to look at a glaring Damian.

Damian walked past them and went right up to the second Damian.

"Daniel, what are you doing here?"

The causal Damian 'Daniel' pulled out a letter. "Your pops invited me, and I didn’t want to risk the chance of batman showing up at my front door."

Damian scoffed, "Of course, Father found out."

Alfred walked in. "Master Daniel, I'll be taking you to Master Bruce."

The double got up and went to Alfred.

"Cookie, Master Daniel?"

"Sure, and call me danny."

[dustpages]

PornMum 2

Six months went by and I found myself struggling with my daily life, my routine got too monotonous to be enjoyable and exciting, almost boring. I missed the thrill of my performing life, the rush of adrenaline knowing my fans would watch me in a new role. The way they would fantasise about me stroking themselves to ejaculate on their monitors. 

I longed to have my colleagues desperate to perform with me,  to feel their hands grabbing and kneading my body. I missed being the centre of attention, being wanted and admired by thousands of men and women. 

Nothing seemed to work no matter how hard I tried to get myself busy with different activities.  I ended up bored at home, questioning my current life and wondering if I had made the right choice by retiring.

The worst thing personally was not being able to vent my frustration and annoyance to my son. I loved him, but he was still too young and inexperienced to be considered my partner in the real sense. 

There were things I would have loved to try with him that I knew weren't appropriate for someone his age, and that made me feel guilty and annoyed at the same time. Not just related to our sex life but also in the most mundane activities like going out at a pub or shopping were complicated if not impossible with him. 

I've always loved him dearly and since we got to become bed partners, I got to love him even more if possible. But the crude reality was, that I craved more, not just physically but mentally as well. I needed stimulation and variety in all aspects of my life.

So, I ended up spending most of my days at home boring myself to death. Venting out my frustration and annoyance at him was out of the question, I was his mother first then his partner.  

Guilt and remorse were eating me alive, I required finding a relief valve before going crazy and ruining my bond with him.

Considering I had plenty of spare time I found myself browsing the Internet more often than not. A dear friend of mine, who had worked in the porn industry in Europe, named Cho Miyeon had made the news to be one of the first actresses to have opened an OnlyFans account.

I got intrigued and opened her page, scrolling through her posts and pictures. 

My jaw dropped when I saw how many subscribers she had gained in so short a time and the amount of money she made every month, not to mention how happy and free she seemed to be. She had found a way to balance her private and public life without the pressure of meeting deadlines imposed by producers or directors.

I pondered over the idea for the entire night and day. Could I do that? Would people subscribe to my content?

The answer was obvious, I had millions of fans following me online, and people would pay gladly to see me naked and masturbating, having sex with other men or women.

I didn't have to wait for scripts or schedules, I could create my own content. The idea thrilled me, it would allow me to have more freedom than I ever had before. I could shoot videos in my private studio and post them on the platform.

I imagined the thrill of being paid monthly for my work and having people masturbating on my videos. 

The thought alone of being desired and admired made my heart race and my panties wet. I made my decision that very day, I was going to open an Onlyfans account and let my fans have access to exclusive content, and maybe even let them pay extra for custom requests. 

The excitement I felt was overwhelming, I could record the video while my son was a school and post it by the time he got back. 

To burst into the scene of OnlyFans, I pondered contacting Miyeon to come over and have her as a guest star for my debut. I knew people would be ecstatic to see us two together. She was known for being bisexual, and we could shoot a threesome with a hot and handsome model.

I texted her on Instagram and waited for her reply anxiously, hoping she would accept my invitation.

The next morning my son woke me up with a kiss on the lips. I smiled and welcomed him between my thighs. We had a quickie before breakfast and he headed to school. I checked my messages and found hers waiting for me.

'Of course, let’s discuss the details.' 

I beamed in happiness and called her immediately. We talked on the phone for a bit and decided on the theme of the scene and that she would arrive in two weeks. I thanked her and hung up, feeling ecstatic at the prospect of going back to my roots, albeit not as I expected. 

For the next couple of days, I got busy setting up my profile and contacting a model to join us for the scene. I opted for a very good-looking boy in his early twenties with a promising future ahead of him. He accepted my offer willingly.

Once I had all the logistics sorted, I began preparing for the big day. I scheduled my son to be away from home for the day, telling him he had to visit his grandparents. He was reluctant at first but gave in once he heard I had a surprise for him if he went, I promised to call him later to inform him of my plan.

I contacted the model and told him to be at my place the day before the shoot. I wanted to test him before recording a scene with Miyeon, there were too many odds that could go wrong.  

At nine o'clock the doorbell rang, I opened it and was struck by how hot and gorgeous the model was. He had the je ne sais quoi that made him appealing. He bowed politely. " Nice to meet you, Mina."

I invited him to enter. " Come on, Manuel there's no need of being so polite."

I led him inside and showed him the room he could use to change and shower. Once he was comfortable, I proposed to grab a drink and have a chinwag before going down to business.

He was a true flatterer, praising me and telling me how much he enjoyed watching my movies and that he was honoured to work with me. I listened and laughed at his compliments, enjoying the company.

" I've asked you to come here a day before the actual shooting before I want to see how well we can perform together," I asserted. We've never done anything together, so I gotta make sure everything is perfect for my debut.

He smirked. " No problem here. It means I gotta have my way with you twice, just a fool would complain." 

I  chuckled and touched his arm. " Get naked, sweetie." 

He stood up from the sofa and peeled his clothes off. I watched his every move, admiring how toned and muscular he was. His cock was long but the most impressive thing was its thickness, it looked huge and juicy, I could imagine it stretching me wide. 

I licked my lips in anticipation, salivating at the mere thought of his cock filling my mouth and pussy.

Manuel was quick in disrobing me too, he took off my clothes expertly, leaving me nude on the sofa. 

He knelt between my legs spreading them wide and ran his fingers up and down my inner thigh teasing me.

"You are so soft." he murmured. " So smooth."

He lowered his head and traced circles on my mound, teasing my clit with light touches. I squirmed under his touch wanting him to dive into my folds and lick me properly.

" Please." I moaned.

He chuckled and stuck out his tongue, swiping it from my hole up to my clit in one swift motion. He repeated his actions a few times before settling on my nub and sucking it.

" Ahhh!" I cried out as he devoured me hungrily, his mouth and tongue working on me like a magic spell.

I reached down and fisted my hand in his hair, urging him to continue. He moaned in pleasure from the slight pain and increased the tempo of his ministrations. 

"Oh god!" I moaned. I was already so close to reaching an orgasm. I felt my body giving into the pleasure.

He sensed I was near and grabbed my hips pulling me closer to his face, sucking on me with more fervour.  

I whimpered and clutched his hair tighter, unable to control my moans. My legs began to shake and my toes curled.

He growled into my flesh as I started squirting. " Ohhhh!" I screamed out, coming violently into his mouth. My orgasm was so strong that I felt my vision blurring momentarily. He licked up all the liquid dripping from my slit.

My body trembled as he continued licking me softly, bringing me down from my high. I released his hair and collapsed backwards on the sofa.

Manuel stood up and positioned himself in front of me. " Are you ready to ride this beast?" he taunted, holding his dick and stroking it. 

I nodded eagerly, reaching out to grab his shaft. I leaned in and licked his head, tasting his precum. I opened my mouth wide and swallowed his length, sucking him hungrily. My hand reached down to rub his sack.

" Mmmmm, you taste divine." I hummed around his member, my throat relaxing and accepting more of his girth. He held my hair and controlled the tempo, pumping into my mouth.

I moaned from the feeling of his dick hitting the back of my throat, it was so thick that it stretched me wonderfully. He picked up speed, fucking my face roughly. 

My spit dripped down my chin as he penetrated my mouth mercilessly. His movements were fast and shallow, making me choke on his length.

" Fuck yes, suck me like a good whore." he groaned. I obeyed him and sucked him greedily, eager to please. My throat constricted around his head as he slammed into it.

He let out a strangled cry and released his load down my throat, shooting ropes of hot semen into me. I gulped it all down and licked his dick clean. He pulled out of me and patted my head. 

I smiled and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, removing the remaining spit from my chin. " How was that?" I asked him.

He grinned widely. " Amazing." he complimented. " You are a great cocksucker."

I laughed and kissed him passionately. " Thanks, now bend me over and fuck me." I requested.

He obliged, turning me around and pushing me on all fours. My body was still recovering from my previous climax and I knew the next one would be even stronger. I braced my palms on the armrest of the sofa and waited.

Manuel lined his cock to my entrance and pushed in. I screamed in delight from the feeling of being filled so deliciously.

 He began thrusting, pushing me further on the sofa with the force of his thrusts. 

" Ahhh!" I screamed as his length penetrated me deeply, my muscles squeezed around him trying to prevent him from exiting me. He didn't relent though, slamming into me brutally and hitting my G spot perfectly. 

"You're so fucking tight." he moaned, his breath coming out in pants. His hands held my waist, keeping me still. His hips slammed against my buttocks.

" Harder, baby." I urged him.

His thrusts became more aggressive and violent, making me scream at every penetration. 

" Fuck!" he growled, his cock pulsing inside of me. " You make me wanna cum."

" Do it." I demanded. He grabbed my hair, arching my back and making me go even deeper. He released my ponytail and grabbed my tits from behind, kneading them roughly.

I felt myself nearing my climax and I rubbed myself on his cock. " I'm gonna cum!" I screamed. 

His thrusts turned erratic. My body shuddered, my pussy squirted out all over his shaft and my inner walls contracted around him, my toes curled in pleasure. " As we agree, you are not allowed to cum inside of me" I made myself clear in the middle of a torrent of moans and screams.

He didn't answer me verbally but his hips stilled and he pulled out of me, releasing himself all over my back in thick white ropes of sperm.

I collapsed on the sofa panting. " That was great." I praised him. He panted above me, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 

We rested for a while, recovering from our exertions before parting ways, he grabbed his things and left for his hotel. I went to my room and took a shower, calling my son afterwards.

"How are you, baby?" I asked. 

He sounded ill, he sneezed and coughed before uttering a single word. " Not so good mum, but I can manage myself."

Another cough interrupted him and my worry rose. I knew him well enough to understand he wouldn't tell me if something was bothering him. " Where are you?" I insisted. " If you aren't feeling well, I can pick you up."

" Mum, don't stress it." he replied. 

I  sighed, feeling frustrated at not being able to do anything for him. " Alright, I'll trust your judgment. Call me if you need something. And don't forget to take your medicine." 

He huffed but promised me to do as told and hung up. I stared at my screen with a mix of emotions, worried about him and sad he wasn't at home. I knew it couldn't be helped, but it still made me feel bad. I decided to focus on the upcoming day, hoping Miyeon would distract me from my thoughts.

I slept soundly and woke up early the next morning, eager to prepare everything for the day ahead. I made sure all the cameras were working properly and the lighting was good, I didn't want any mishaps on the first day. 

I had already sent Miyeon the script of the scenario, she had studied it thoroughly and was aware of what she had to do.

I dressed in the outfit I had chosen and styled my hair accordingly. I paced nervously waiting for them to arrive.

Manuel showed up first, greeting me warmly and wishing me luck for the scene. He changed into his costume and came back wearing only a thong. I salivated at the sight of his bulge, eager to have him inside of me once more.

Miyeon arrived ten minutes later, looking stunning in her outfit. She hugged me tightly. " Long time no see!"

I reciprocated the hug. " I know, I'm glad you could come." I replied. " I've been missing you." 

" Same here." she answered. " But we'll catch up after the shoot."

I nodded. " Let's get started then." I led them to the living room and explained the scene.

Scene is a big word to describe the three of us indulging in a threesome, exploring each other's bodies with hunger and passion. 

" Keep going, you are so deep." I urged. " Don't stop."

Manuel slammed into me from behind, his cock hitting my cervix every time he bottomed out into me. His hands gripped my waist tightly, keeping me still.

I whimpered at his ministrations, his thrusts were relentless and merciless. His sack slapped against my butt with every penetration, making me feel naughty and slutty. I squeezed his dick with my inner walls.

" Yes!" I shouted. " Like this! Faster!"

His hips snapped against my backside as he increased the speed of his thrusts, fucking me like a wild animal. He grunted in pleasure from my tightness.

Miyeon watched us avidly, her eyes shining brightly with desire. Her fingers played with her clit drenching her thighs adorned with black stockings. 

I had no idea when I started cumming, the only thing I was aware of was that it didn't seem to stop.  I came over and over again, squirting all over his length and my thighs.

" Remember not to cum inside." I reminded him. 

" Alright, I'm gonna use that pretty mouth of yours to cum." he responded. 

He pulled out my cunt and turning me around penetrated my mouth. I welcomed his length gladly, eager to swallow his load.

Miyeon came closer and reached between his legs, massaging his sack and stroking his perineum. His thrusts stilled suddenly. " Ahhh!" he shouted as he erupted into my mouth, flooding me with his salty seed. I swallowed it all greedily.

Manuel pulled out of my mouth and put Miyeon between his arms, lifting her and impaling her onto his dick. She moaned at the feeling of him entering her.

I watched them in awe, their bodies fitted perfectly together. She bounced on him with ease, using his shoulders to push herself up and down his length. 

His hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them roughly. She cried out in pleasure and threw her head back, letting her brown locks flow freely on her back. I licked my lips imagining how delicious her body must taste.

Her movements became frantic as she neared her climax. She scratched his shoulders and dug her nails into his flesh. 

" Yes, cum for me." he encouraged. " Squeeze my cock with your little pussy."

She came quivering in his arms,  screaming out his name. He kept thrusting into her, prolonging her pleasure. I came again from the sight of them, rubbing my clit and imagining being in her place.

Manuel lowered her to the floor in a variant of the missionary position. He drove into her forcefully, not stopping for even a second. He fucked her ruthlessly, chasing his climax. 

Her breasts jiggled from the force of his thrusts and she moaned loudly. Her fingernails clawed at his arms as he pounded her like a machine.

" You are going to make me cum!" she cried out, her legs trembling uncontrollably. 

He growled at her words and increased the speed of his hips. " Fucking do it." 

Miyeon came screaming, her muscles contracting around his dick. He let out a final grunt and shot his load all over her belly.

I applauded them and they laughed, still panting from their exertions. " Thank you." I expressed my gratitude. " You've been amazing."

They thanked me in return and we all got cleaned and Manuel bid his goodbye, leaving me and my friend alone.

I heard my phone ringing from the kitchen where I left it to charged. I had 14 missed calls from my father and a few from my mother.

"What the hell Mina." my father shouted through the phone. " I've tried to call you nonstop."

I  was confused and scared at the same time. " What happened?" I asked, dread creeping up my spine. 

"Your son." he stated. 

A chill ran through me at his words. I felt as if I had been punched in the gut, my lungs refused to expand and breathe. " What? Tell me!" 

" He has pneumonia." my dad said gravely. " Your mother took him to the hospital when he passed out in the garden."

I felt dizzy and disoriented, tears began to stream down my face. " Is he fine?" I asked. " I want to speak to him."

" He is sleeping right now." he told me. " He'll wake up tomorrow probably."

I sniffed loudly. " Tell me what to do." I implored him. " I'll drive over to the hospital right now."

"No, Mina." he refused firmly. " The fewer people are in the hospital the better it is for your son. I'll keep you updated on his condition."

I thanked him and hung up, sobbing openly. I felt a pair of arms encircling me and collapsed against them, letting them comfort me.

" Don't worry Mina." Miyeon soothed me. " He will recover. You'll be with him in no time."

I clung to her desperately, seeking solace and reassurance. Miyeon was a pure angel with me during the night, she cuddled me to sleep in her arms.

As the sun beamed Miyeon drove me to the hospital, I couldn't bear to be apart from my son anymore. We entered the room and found him sleeping, looking pale and frail.

My father stood up from his chair. " Go ahead." he told me, offering me the seat. 

I sat next to the bed and took my baby's hand in mine. " I love you." I whispered in his ear. " Always remember that."

My mother joined us in the room shortly after. She brought breakfast for everyone and we ate in silence. 

After a while, my son opened his eyes slightly, smiling at seeing me next to him. I kissed his forehead and caressed his cheeks.

" Hi, mum." he croaked weakly. I shushed him, telling him to save his energy.

" Hopefully your last 24 hours have been more fun than mine." he commented with a dark huff, noticing Miyeon.

I chuckled. " Well, it depends on how you define fun." I answered mysteriously. " Do you want to meet my friend?"

" You are making him speak too much, leave the room." my mother reprimanded me. 

Shamefaced, I left the room along with Miyeon, who was amused by the situation. We chatted for a bit and eventually, she said goodbye to me, promising to keep in touch.

I returned to my son's room, sitting next to him and talking softly with him, careful not to exhaust him. He was discharged from the hospital two days later. We returned home and he was confined to his bed for a week.

I spoiled him rotten, doing whatever it took to make him feel better. 

One afternoon he woke up and found me scrolling through my phone, I had taken him in my bed to stay close to him. He looked at me curiously. " What are all these notifications about?"

I had uploaded the video of the threesome on my OnlyFans and since then my phone has been bombarded with notifications and messages.

" Just some fans." I dismissed him. 

He looked unconvinced at my answer. " Give me your phone." he demanded.

 I handed him my mobile and he unlocked it. " Why do you have this app?" he questioned me, referring to the Onlyfans icon.

He tapped on it, opening the app,  his eyes widening in surprise. " You made an Onlyfans account."

I was caught red-handed, I hadn't anticipated that he would be interested in my phone and check on my apps.

" That's correct." I affirmed. 

He browsed the app focusing on the comments sections.  I winced inwardly knowing they would be explicit. I could read the surprise in his eyes when he scrolled through the comments. 

" These guys want to fuck you." he concluded. 

I laughed at his statement. " That's the main purpose of the app."

" So why are you on it?"

I took a deep breath, preparing for a fight. " I got bored staying home and doing nothing all day." I explained. " This allows me to perform without the pressure of a director or producer."

He closed the app and looked at me gravely. " Have you shot scenes already?" he asked me, sounding hurt.

I nodded in affirmation, not daring to look at him. He sighed deeply and rolled out of the bed.

 " I'm delusional." he affirmed. 

"  Why?" I asked confused.

" Because I thought I could be enough for you." he answered.

" Baby, you are enough for me, this doesn't change anything between us." I assured him. 

He scoffed at my words. " You just said that you got bored." he argued. " So obviously you needed something else."

" It's different." I defended myself.

" Dicks, money, visibility on the internet." he listed. " All the same as before, you just do it on your own without the control of a production, of doctors, agents and managers." he concluded.

His words stabbed me in the heart, he had nailed it on the spot. I was seeking attention and adoration putting my body on display to anyone willing to pay for it.

" Maybe." I agreed. " I wanted to experience something different." 

He shook his head, disappointment evident in his expression. " You never listen to me. You do what you want regardless of my opinion." 

I sighed, feeling defeated. I realized that he was right, I had acted selfishly not caring about his feelings.

" What do you want me to do?" I asked. " Delete the account?"

He coughed deeply, wincing from the effort. "T-the account isn't the actual problem." he acknowledged. " You are more talented than selling videos and photos to strangers." 

I had never seen him so serious with me. It made me feel awful to know I was the cause of his sadness. 

"I'll do what you say." I promised, willing to fix my mistake.

" It's not about me making decisions for you, we are family and family comes first." he asserted. " You have an angelic voice when you moan, you could be a decent singer if only you would."

I blushed, he had a point on that. " Are you suggesting to use my fanbase to start a music career?" I asked.

He shrugged. " At least you wouldn't sell your body."

I chewed on my bottom lip, pondering his suggestion. " I could begin uploading cover videos of my favourite songs on YouTube."

" Indeed. You will have the acclamation and recognition of your fans, closing a chapter of your life and pursuing a new adventure." he resonated.

I looked at him fondly. " Baby, you should be proud of your intelligence."

He smiled at my words, his eyes shining in amusement. " I am your partner, remember?" he teased. "I must support you."

I chuckled. " Come here." I spread my arms and pressed him to my bosom.

"I love you." he whispered against my skin. 

" And I love you too." I confirmed, running my fingers through his hair. " More than anything." 

" I've been longing to take you for too many days now." he asserted with a voice full of lust. 

 I giggled at his confession, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against my thigh. I slipped my hand under his boxers and caressed his growing cock, he groaned at my touch.

"You'll have to wait until you recover fully." I denied him.

 " Your honey will cure all my illness." he taunted me.  " Besides, I've been fantasizing about fucking your throat for far too long now." 

My pussy clenched at his words, I loved hearing him dirty talk. He reached between my legs and pushed my panties aside. " You are wet, aren't you?" he murmured. 

I nodded, my cheeks flushed from his ministration. He slid two fingers inside of me, making me shiver in pleasure. 

" Beg me." he ordered. His finger reached my G spot, making me squeal from the sensitivity.

" Please, baby." I moaned.

His hand withdrew from my body and he smirked at me, showing me my juices coating his fingers. " Say it properly." 

I whimpered at the loss of his touch. " Please, I want you to fuck me."

He pushed his fingers back and pumped in earnest. " That's what I wanted to hear." 

His digits curled and assaulted my G-spot, making my muscles contract around them. I cried out in delight, my body trembled from the pleasure.

" You are a naughty girl aren't you?" he taunted. His fingers stilled for a few seconds before resuming their assault. " Cum for me."

I sobbed, unable to control my climax, I felt myself falling over the edge of ecstasy. I came hard around his fingers, soaking his palm.

He removed his hand from my cunt and sucked on his fingers greedily. " Mmmm." he praised my flavour. " You taste divine."

I watched him lick my juices and I shivered at the thought of him eating my pussy. He noticed my gaze. " Do you wish me to eat your pussy?" he questioned.

I nodded vigorously. " Yes."

" Then spread your legs for me." he ordered me. 

I hastened to comply, pushing my thighs apart. He positioned himself between them and lowered his mouth to my slit, inhaling deeply and devouring me hungrily. His tongue swiped my entrance up to my clit and flicked it softly.

My thighs trembled at the intensity of his ministration, his tongue was gentle but firm at the same time, sending sparks of electricity down my spine and heating my blood.

"Ahhh!" I moaned, clutching the sheets tightly. My hips lifted on their own accord, eager for more of his tongue.

His fingers parted my folds wider and he attacked my clit furiously, sucking and licking it relentlessly. My toes curled from the pleasure and my nipples pebbled.

I was already close to my climax when he stopped torturing my bud and plunged his tongue inside of me. I keened loudly at the sensation of him penetrating me with his tongue. 

He fucked me with his mouth, laving my insides and lapping at my juices. My pussy clenched around his tongue, trying to prevent it from exiting me.

His finger replaced his tongue, plunging into me and finding my G spot once more. He assaulted it without mercy, making me scream in pleasure.

I came again, my vision blurred and my muscles tensed up. I lost count of how many times he made me climax, all I knew was that my pussy was sore and sensitive but eager for more of him.

When I opened my eyes, he was standing before me with his boxers on the floor and his erection proudly in front of my face. I reached out and licked his length tentatively, tasting the saltiness of his precum.

He caressed my cheeks. " Do you want it done nicely or brutally?" he questioned.  

I smiled widely, feeling mischievous. " Brutally." I opted for the second option.

He laughed at my choice. " Open your mouth wide." he instructed.

I did as told and he pushed into me until his length hit the back of my throat. " Swallow me." he commanded, pushing deeper.

I gagged slightly at the sudden intrusion but he didn't stop. He grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth roughly, his balls hitting my nose. Tears streamed down my face and saliva dribbled from my chin, I struggled to accommodate him.

" Good god, Mina.” he praised. " Take all of me." 

He rammed into me without care, his thrusts becoming more vicious every time he penetrated my throat. I gagged loudly, unable to breathe properly. 

He slapped my cheeks lightly. " Breathe through your nose." he advised.

I took a lungful of air and exhaled slowly, managing to calm myself. He held my head still and fucked my mouth mercilessly, his balls slapping my nose. I felt him pulsing inside of me and tasted his precum dripping into my mouth.

" I'm gonna cum." he announced.

I prepared myself for the torrent of sperm that would flood my mouth soon. He shoved me deeper into his groin and released his seed into me. I swallowed greedily, eager to taste him. His cum was salty and delicious, I drank him like a thirsty man in the desert. 

His thrusts stilled as he emptied himself inside of me completely. I licked his length clean and he pulled out of my mouth gently. 

I lay on the bed exhausted, he lay beside me and cuddled me tightly. " How was it?" I asked.

" Perfect." he purred satisfied. " You are such a good girl, swallowing me like that." he complimented. 

I smiled at his words. " You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." I confessed. 

He snuggled against me and whispered in my ear. " I love you."

I reciprocated his sentiment, holding him tighter. I had found my haven and safe space within his arms and was determined never to let him go.

" Brace yourself, baby, I'll ride you like in a rodeo." I straddled him and sunk onto his erection. 

He gripped my hips and pulled me down on his length, impaling me fully. I gasped from the feeling of being split open. He slapped my ass and ordered. " Move."

I lifted my body and sank back down slowly, adjusting to his size. My pussy adjusted slowly to his thickness and I began riding him faster. 

"You like that huh?" I panted, feeling exhilarating pleasure from having him fill me.

He grunted in response, too focused on fucking me to be able to answer verbally. He held me steady and pistoned into me furiously. My tits bounced wildly with every thrust.

" Yes! Like that." I cried. My body shuddered from the strength of my climax. My orgasm was powerful and intense, it made my limbs tremble and my mind went blank.

My muscles contracted around his length, squeezing him deliciously. He let out a strangled groan from my tightness and I felt his hot seed coating my insides. 

We came down from our highs slowly, holding each other and exchanging kisses and sweet whispers. 

This was the beginning of a new era for us. I knew we still had plenty of hurdles to overcome, but I was sure we would face them together and emerge victorious.

[cheqorb]

Sotto Voce.

Gaslighting everyone into believing you’re a really shit footballer because seeing people be impressed by your sheer lack of skill is more fun than being a genius.

FEAT. Bastard München ensemble

NOTES. uhhaua cross posted on ao3 (same user) but ajyway, thought this idea was funny and because of this lingering feeling of sadness i haha managed to Complete this?? Gosh im beside myself with worry!!

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

Isagi thinks he might be seeing things. Maybe all the relentless training in Blue Lock has finally caught up to him, leading him into a football-induced delirium, because he can’t quite comprehend what he’s looking at right now.

You’re moving across the field with a fluidity he’s only seen in pro-level players, doing tricks and turns he’s pretty sure aren’t even in his playbook. You glide past the defence, controlling the ball with a finesse that’s nearly supernatural — hell, he thinks even someone of Rin’s calibre would be breaking a sweat to try and keep up.

And you look bored while doing it. Eyes half-lidded, posture almost lazy, as if this is just another walk in the park and not you showing off world-class football technique.

Isagi’s mind races to make sense of this. You’d always been, well, normal to him.

Sometimes you’d play in a match, most other times you’d sit out on the sidelines. And he’s usually pretty sharp about these things, so it must’ve been because you just… didn’t stand out.

Yet here you are, pulling off flawless plays with little more than a mild yawn, as if winning against the top players here would barely register on your radar. Maybe it’s just luck, some freakish one-off, right?

… Nope. You just drilled another perfect goal into the top corner of the net.

He snaps out of his thoughts only when you suddenly stop mid-play, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, there’s a flicker of panic in your gaze and he opens his mouth, not even sure what he’s about to say.

“Y/N-”

You’re stomping towards him before he can even process the whole thing, your pace quicker and more full of menace than he’s used to seeing on you. You stop just short of him, tilt your head slightly, and in the calmest voice, say, “You saw nothing.”

He tries to stammer out something, but you leave soon afterwards.

────

Tripping over the ball is harder than it looks, but after enough practice, you’ve perfected the art of falling in a normal fashion. To most people, it’s convincing. Prior to a few days ago, you’d say all people but there’s a certain someone who entertains himself by boring holes into the back of your skull with an intense, unblinking stare.

You can feel it. Isagi waiting for you to slip up.

Actually slip up, instead of the falls you’ve gotten so good at imitating. It’s detestable, honestly. You’re trying to keep things as they’ve always been, and he just wants to come in and mess with the status quo!

Luckily for you, Igaguri’s too much of an idiot to harbour the same suspicions. Right now he’s too busy practically doubling over with laughter on the floor. The guy is probably thrilled to finally see someone playing the fool even more than he does. And as much as he’s a pain, he’s also the kind of person who makes perfect cover — play the role of an idiot, laugh it off with him, and everyone’s none the wiser.

So, in spite of your (what most would call) vindictive description of him, you do believe that some sort of strange pleasure is to be gained from surrounding yourself with people like him. Though perhaps that also makes you a terrible person.

The feeling is nothing like the rationale that Noa preaches about so often. It’s an undeniable truth in your heart.

Which is why you avoid the people who actually know what they’re doing on the field like the plague.

Yukimiya, on the other hand, is way too polite to laugh outright. He at least has the common sense to stifle it, reaching out a hand to help you off the ground with a quiet charm that makes people swoon. No wonder he’s a model.

Now, the imaginary audience in your mind might be wondering why you’re talking with a guy like him? Your answer: he’s not as notable ever since he patched things up with Isagi. He’s now the kind of person you can talk to without raising any brows. Again, it sounds harsh but you see it in a positive light. He’s becoming just the kind of person you adore most!

“Try and keep a close eye for stuff on the ground, alright?”

You flash him a grin, nodding. “You know me, just a total klutz all the time,” you reply as your usual happy-go-lucky self, making sure to project just loud enough for Isagi to hear.

And out of the corner of your eye, you catch that familiar look of suspicion deepening.

────

The silence that follows is brutal. Hiori and Kurona exchange a look that’s way too long for Isagi’s comfort. After finishing whatever telepathic debate they have with each other, they both stare back at him like he’s just pitched the most psychotic theory imaginable (which isn’t entirely untrue).

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he mutters, deflating a bit.

Hiori’s quick to reply, but Isagi is aware of the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “It’s not that we don’t believe you. But, ya have to admit, it’s strange to hear Y/N… of all people, doing something like that.”

That’s code for what the fuck are you talking about, Isagi concludes with a grimace, his eyes shifting to Kurona hopefully.

“Crazy. Crazy.”

Kurona’s tone is deadpan, his gaze distant as if he’s trying not to laugh. Great.

Isagi sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Maybe he is the one who’s going crazy here. It shouldn’t even bother him this much. It’s not like you’re particularly close! If anything, he can barely remember a conversation between the two of you that went beyond asking if you’d seen so and so.

And, judging by the responses he’s getting from both of his teammates, neither of them can figure out why he’s fixated on this either.

────

Noa is going on and on about practice drills, how to follow his instructions precisely, something about rationality and technique, blah, blah, blah. You stifle a yawn. If this is what being in one of the top clubs means, you should’ve begged Ego to be in Barcha instead. At least Lavinho would’ve been fun.

You hear his coaching style isn’t by any means phenomenal if you’re trying to improve your skills, but good thing you’re not planning on doing anything of the sort!

And just when you think you might actually pass out from boredom, you see Isagi walking over. Again. He’s approaching with that same cautious look, but it’s not enough to make him think twice about bothering you apparently. That’s also something that bugs you, he’s never a quitter.

You flash him an oblivious smile. “Oh, Isagi! Whatcha up to? Need anything from little ol’ me?”

You lay it on thick, voice dripping with cheerful innocence. His jaw tightens, and for a second, you swear you can see a flicker of annoyance on his face. That’s new. Your words have the opposite effect than what you had originally intended.

“Listen, I know what I saw, alright? You’re not fooling anyone.”

He launches into a whole spiel about how he’s seen you pull off moves that only high-level players can pull off, how he doesn’t care if it’s part of some large game you’re playing, how you should be using your skill to distinguish yourself.

…You really don’t give a shit, and in regards to his comments, you personally disagree! What’s the fun in doing all of that?

You tilt your head, pretending to think it over with wide, guileless eyes. Sure, you’re a little flattered he’s this invested in uncovering your “secret,” but the other 99% of you is totally unhappy.

When he finally wraps up his little speech, you just give him a half-hearted shrug with a smugness that he doesn’t miss.

“And who’s going to believe you?”

────

Kaiser likes to think of Isagi as predictable, average — someone who might fancy himself a hero but is ultimately just another small-time player waiting to be crushed. It’s almost laughable how seriously he takes himself. In fact, the only thing remotely worth mentioning about him recently is this bizarre fixation he seems to have developed on you.

He’s overheard your exchanges, and in short, they’re pathetic.

Isagi rambles on about how you’re hiding something, clinging to that delusion like it’s going to benefit him somehow. The psychology-lover inside him finds it almost fascinating in how utterly absurd it sounds.

So, when Kaiser spots you chatting with the ever despairing Grim (laughing so hard you have to hold back tears), he figures it wouldn’t be wrong to call you at least a little insane. Part of him wonders what humour could be found in the man’s deplorable monologues.

He figures he might as well join in on the entertainment. You’re far from his usual company, but you’ll do. For now. Moseying on over, his signature smirk is already in place.

He’s rewarded by the way your eyes immediately narrow in irritation, a look he’s all too familiar with and thoroughly enjoys on anyone really. Grim, blissfully unaware of what he’s leaving you to, heads off, and now it’s just you and Kaiser.

Leaning in closer, he asks, “What little secret of yours has got under Yoichi’s skin so badly?”

Kaiser waits, watching for the faintest flicker of reaction but you stay silent. How boring.

But! Not one to give up easily, he continues with a more direct jab, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. The one where he acts like he knows everything there is to know about everyone. “That you’re really skilled, and this whole clueless act of yours is just a cheap facade?”

He raises a brow, as if daring you to admit it. To his delight, you lift your head, finally meeting his gaze albeit with an uncomfortably polite smile.

“I was just surprised you’re interested in something like that. But, Isagi’s a total liar. Isn’t he just so annoying? I can’t stand people who just don’t know when to give up, and I’m sure you agree.”

It’s not often someone catches him off-guard, and though he recovers quickly, the flicker of surprise is still there. Kaiser also sees opportunity however. He could work with this.

“Well, if you’re not a fan of Yoichi then feel free to join my side then,” he drawls, offering the position like it’s a dream come true. In his world, he’s already the star; what better way to elevate himself than to recruit someone.

“Ah, no. You’re both terrible.”

He can’t tell what’s worse; you lumping him together with Isagi, or the fact that you immediately walk off without giving him a chance to get the last word in.

────

“It’s like asking me if I prefer cat shit or dog shit. It’s still shit, and there’s no point in picking one over the other.”

You toss the comparison out to Kiyora, of all people — a bit of a waste since he just stares blankly at you, not saying a word. Pretty cute, actually, in a clueless sort of way.

The reality is that, at the moment, if you want a shot at the regulars, you’re supposed to cosy up to either Isagi or Kaiser. And as for everyone else? They’re can either fuck off or pray for a miracle.

Of course, you couldn’t care less about making the regulars. But every now and then, you forget there are people around you who do care, people with actual ambitions. Which is why you pause when you catch sight of Hiori and Kurona.

“Oh, Hiori and Kurona,” you point out the obvious.

They both glance your way, casual and relaxed, which gives you the impression that Isagi hasn’t roped them into his latest paranoid theories. Yet.

“Are ya heading back to training already?” Hiori asks, his soft voice and accent making it sound more like an invitation than a question. There’s a kindness to it that’s almost unsettling here in Blue Lock, but you return his smile with one of your own nevertheless.

Kiyora gives a small nod. “Yeah,” he says, brief and to the point.

You’re half-considering some excuse to slip away and do your own thing, but there’s something about the way Hiori is looking at you that draws your attention. Unlike Isagi, he’s way better at hiding it, but you can still feel his curiosity prickle under your skin.

You give him a lazy smile, leaning into the idea. “I’m already so tired from this morning’s training,” you lie, exaggerating just enough. “Honestly, going to bed early sounds great right about now.”

Morning training was barely enough to get you sweating, just a couple of warm-up drills for the afternoon matches. You doubt they have any clue what you’re talking about, which is exactly how you want it.

There’s a quiet pause, and then Hiori breaks it with a gentle but firm nudge. “Well, if yer looking to get on the regulars consistently, training more could be worth a shot.”

You force a smile that probably looks more akin to a grimace. This is exactly why you don’t like smart people. They poke and prod until your story frays at the edges. He definitely asked that on purpose! With a heavy sigh, you end up walking with them toward the pitch, despite every nerve in you screaming to veer off.

You can’t help but wonder if this is a test.

[lizardho]

I think the worst day I had as a missionary is hard to pin down – for comedy bad day stories, I like to talk about my cute companion who ripped three pairs of pants in one day because his ass was so fat. Literally, two in the morning, we missed 3 appointments in the afternoon because people kept cancelling on us, and we ended up far away from home visiting “Less Actives” in the downtown area. We find a family who says we can come in once their dad get home, and we sit down to wait for the dad to get in and RIIIPPP goes the third pair of slacks this man wore that day. I hand him my suit jacket and he wraps it around his waist like a bashful adolescent who just started his period at an inconvenient time. We catch a ride home on a bus and ended up home an hour early. He cried for like 30 minutes while stitching up his pants, and I got to rest a lot more than expected that day. We ordered a 4-cheese pizza and went to bed early that night, having walked probably 5-6 miles that day knocking doors and getting turned away.

Another bad day was the day the Mexico City Temple was re-opening. It was a funny experience for me because the evening before I was contacted by the Mission President and told that an elder in our district had confessed some serious sins to him and that those sins precluded him from going to the temple. The MP told me that nobody in this elder’s ward could get time off to babysit him so he was begging one of us – I didn’t want to go to the temple, it was a crappy way to spend a P-Day in my opinion, so I told the MP I’d do it. I spent the day eating popsicles and napping with an elder who, in between Bolis and naps, would shakily and tearfully confess that no fewer than half of his companions had secret phones they used to watch porn, hire prostitutes, and buy drugs. This was bewildering to me since I had been Trying So Hard my whole mission and had always felt inadequate, and these elders who were doing better than me and more respected than me were somehow out here fucking, doing drugs, and jorkin’ it.

I was actually in a “Punishment Area” at the time because in my last area one of my life-threateningly attractive companions had gone into the homes of widows to repair their electrical wirings (he was a trained electrician prior to going on a mission.) Being alone in the home of an 80-year-old widow with failing lights was “against the rules” to the extent that me mandaron a la goma, and some handful of guys I’d been told to view as role models were out here breaking actual laws and shit. Of course, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was in this area because of the Deep Evil that Lay Within My Heart (wanting to kiss Elder Electrician on his stupid himbo lips) but my MP could not have known that, just like he didn’t know that the guys he was making Zone Leaders were getting their dicks sucked and snorting cocaine. That honestly felt outrageous to me.

I feel like the stereotypical “worst day” of a mission is the last day – they take you to the airport in a big van, all melancholy and nostalgic. We sang on our drive to the airport – elders and sisters tearfully sang or hummed hymns together. I was deadpan the whole time, it was such a relief to be going home. For me the worst part of the day was the relief – the release of pressure. The pressure to perform, to be “on,” to be at your best, is omnipresent for elders. I was the only person flying to Phoenix, so for the first time in two years I felt a release from that pressure. Nobody was scrutinizing me, I no longer felt that every thought, action, and feeling was being evaluated and judged as a sign of my true character. It was hard to realize, a the pressure let up, that I had been holding all that weight for two years without knowing when it had started. I remember getting confused in Customs and needing someone who spoke Spanish to talk to me because I kept forgetting words in English. I remember getting home and my family waiting for me and feeling like it was all finally done, finally over, I could finally breath. It didn’t feel bad, but it did feel heavy. And it definitely was not the worst day of my mission.

The actual worst day of my mission, though, was about 5 months in. At the 6-month mark I was expected to make a long trip down to an area of town near La Basilica de Guadalupe to submit my visa paperwork, and the mission office had sent me an extra $500 MX to use for transportation costs. When I withdrew the money they had sent for the month, I noticed it was higher than expected. My companion, a senior companion and district leader, had the cell phone. He was talking to another elder while he waited for me to withdraw my monthly deposit. I approached and asked if I could use the cell phone to call the mission office, as I had questions. He said “no,” and ignored me. I waited until the conversation ended and asked again, and again, angrily, he said, “No.” I said “Elder, relax, I just need to call the mission office to see why they sent me more this month than usual.” His face turned red as he realized other elders were watching the exchange occur. He handed me the phone, I called and was told the money was for transportation costs, and laughingly returned the phone to my companion. He took it, told the other elders he needed to tie his shoe but they could head on over to the District Meeting, and waited until they were out of eyesight. Once that was done, he grabbed me hard by the wrist, dragged me into a hidden corner out of earshot from others, and said, “If you ever disrespect me or my authority again I swear to God I will kill you.”

I was actually shocked. This guy had spent the last month and a half being SUPER nice to me, so I thought he was kidding and I was just confused. I laughed and said “Haha, yeah, your authority over the cell phone is sacred,” and tried to walk away but he didn’t let go of my wrist. He pulled me back and said “I will literally slit your throat if you ever talk to me like that again. As senior companion my authority over YOU is sacred, and I will not let God be mocked by you.”

I realized that he was serious. Like, actually threatening-my-life serious. I could see it in his eyes, I could feel it in the way he squeezed tighter on my wrist. In actuality, the idea seems laughable now. The guy was absolutely chickenshit. He cried if his shits were too hard, he couldn’t end a human life, but I still didn’t let myself fall asleep first for the rest of our time together. And I still hid the two knives we had in a different area while he was showering the next morning.

If I’m being honest though, even that wasn’t the worst day of my mission. That was bad, and each subsequent time he told me he was going to cut my throat for minor infractions against his God-Given Authority Over Me (like not wearing a belt for morning scripture study, or not taking the path he thought was best to get to a lesson) was a bad day. Every P-Day where he read my emails over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t telling my parents about how he was treating me, every day he told me that the ward members would never believe me over him, every day he put me down in front of other elders and they laughed in agreement, every day he was in a bad mood and took it out on me was a bad day. But the worst day was the day I told the mission president about it. I told him about the threats to my life, his temper, his physical abuse, hiss manipulation and rule-breaking, and the mission president told me “The time to tell me this was 6 months ago. The time to forgive him and focus on your own failings is now.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt as confused or betrayed as I did then. Like, man oh man, that was a rough thing to hear, but as the day went on I kept feeling more and more confused and scared – had I misinterpreted everything? Had I miscommunicated something in telling the story? Had I not been objective enough in recounting the threats against my life? Was it true that a senior companion actually had the authority to hurt me if I went against his authority? Was I wrong the whole time? I had no idea, to be honest, but it was bewildering.

Knowing now what I wish I had known then, I would have done things differently. But in the moment, on a mission, knowing that my biggest reason for going on a mission was the hope that the Spirit of God, which hymns told me burns like fire, would burn the faggot out of my heart. I think I felt like I deserved it. Like somehow that elder knew the evil I was hiding and felt compelled by God’s power to hurt me. I think that’s what made it so hard to defend myself in the moment – I did not have that problem with other elders. The companion who told me we were gonna wrestle to settle an argument lost three consecutive matches and pouted about it for like a week. The elder who threatened to punch me for making a joke at his expense got knocked on his ass just for raising his fist. But this elder got into my head first, and that made it hard to fight against it. Instead of fighting against it, I just silently lived with actual, verifiable, diagnosed, by-the-book, DSM-5-TR Posttraumatic Stress Disorder because I thought I deserved it. It took consistent supervision of my clinical work revealing countertransference with Male LDS clients (I consistently discussed addressing shame in a client’s presentation where no shame or discomfort had been reported), an awkward conversation with @inbabylontheywept after an even more awkward dinner with a cousin who vaguely reminds me of that companion, and a bad acid trip where I had visceral flashbacks to my mission, before I was able to realize that I was living with a pain that was as abnormal as it was unnecessary.

Even once I realized it, even once I got help, it was hard. I remember telling jokes about what happened to my therapist and seeing her jaw just…drop. She said she didn’t know it had been that dangerous for me. The session ended and he sent me the PCL-5 (a good, evidence-based, highly face-valid measure for PTSD) and some other measure for dissociative symptoms and I was like “Girl, I just took this class, I know what you’re trying to measure and this ain’t it.” I reported my symptoms accurately and was fully prepped to confront her the next session. She showed me my scores and the norms used, and I was like “Oh fuck, this looks really bad on paper,” and she was like “Yeah, I can’t imagine living like this” and I just sobbed for most of that session. We ended up doing 9 months of TF-CBT and ACT (largely because I am a terrible and uncooperative patient, realistically I think I could have been done in like 5-6 months if I wasn’t so stubborn) before I was discharged from treatment successfully.

The thing that was so weird about starting therapy for PTSD was that it made things feel worse for a while. I started taking edibles a lot more. I started behaving differently around family members and Mormons. I started being outright hostile to elders I could see. It took about 3 months before I could see the missionaries and not have an actual fight-or-flight response to their presence. I think the way I had made it a far as I did without getting treatment was by repressing the thoughts, feelings, and memories that made it all hurt, and a soon as I let them just be there it was like all the confusing aching hurt came back. The first few months of therapy were just spent expanding the amount of time I could feel that hurt before turning to other means (like dissociation, cannabis, repression, etc.) so I could actually address the experiences without crashing the rest of the day. It was hard. I know I ended several sessions sweating a LOT from the exertion it took to just let the feelings happen. By 6 months, however, I could go into a church building without blacking out from panic. By 9 months I could sit in the same room as elders without sweating and shaking like a chihuahua on Adderall. 3 months after therapy and me and my supervisors noticed that my work with Mormon men had improved substantially. 6 months after therapy and I was able to begin writing anonymous stories online. Now, about two years after completing therapy, I feel like I can talk about it without needing the cloak of anonymity, and that is empowering.

Again, I am not sure why I’m typing these stories out – they’re not fun to write, I don’t love that my family can find these posts, but I guess I just like to remind myself and others that it can always get better. That mind numbing platitude, the old thought-terminating cliché that “it gets better, just power through it” doesn’t give enough credit to how much it hurts to get through it, but it does get better. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. The triggers can go away with time, great effort, significant expense, and a lot of discomfort. The world can feel safe again, the hurt can feel bearable, that nagging worry that I might have deserved this, or that I did something wrong, can eventually go away too. It’s not easy to do it, and I have an incredible respect for the patients of mine who can pull it off, but it is undeniably as doable a it is difficult. If this story resonates with anyone, if it feels close-to-home, if these experiences feel shared, just know that the relief I talked about can feel shared too. Know that it’s worth it to get the help, that you deserve the help, that you deserve to live a life that doesn’t hurt you, that you deserve to be a full person and not a living prison for the pain and memories. Know that healing yourself does not involve extending forgiveness to Them, whoever They are. That the pain you felt will not be made less important by making the pain less potent. Know that taking care of yourself now is, in a way, taking care of yourself then. And Please, with a capital P, take care of yourselves.

Thank you to my family, especially my immediate family (special shout outs to @flowerologists and @inbabylontheywept) for the support and patience with me as I dealt with this.

Thank you to my therapist, Jordin Borques, who I recommend highly to anyone seeking trauma therapy in Arizona.

Thank you to my wife, @cintailed, for being the push that got me into therapy, and for taking care of me at my worst and still being here with me.

Thanks to my mission president for being such a colossal disappointment to Christianity that my departure from the church was inevitable.

And a general thanks to the queers for being so cute and making life worth living, even on bad days.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

See one of my favorite things about fanon is that Dick is like a normal dude outside of nightwing like genuinely he’s normal person who isn’t that extreme canonically. He loves his family but he needs space with them and doesn’t want to be a carbon copy of his father.

He follows Bruce is moral compass while also being more lenient on some crimes. He canonically values life and protecting the sanctity over it than actually stopping crime and has a very strong moral compass that exceeds “well it’s the law”. Dick canonically thinks that Corrupt police officials are worse than criminals and became a cop to weed them out the same way he did the mob. And has bad blood with the BPD despite working for them.

He has genuine reservations about trusting Jason for obvious reasons even if you don’t like Dicks run as Batman where Jason was flat out the worst or like stealing the Nightwing suit in New York in brothers and blood. While still being able to work with and like him.

He is supportive of Tim while still being frustrated at taking on more work bc he knows Tim does too much and will need help.

He loves Damian but steps away from that relationship because unlike Bruce at his age he’s emotionally mature enough to realize he cannot be a parent for the kid. A role model sure! A big sibling, yeah. But not a parent.

He didn’t want Steph as spoiler, Robin or batgirl bc she wasn’t well trained but neither did literally anyone else. Once she and him started working together they had a decent relationship.

Dick and Cass have a strong relationship and he helped Babs with her when Bruce was being an asshole while still not stepping into a parent role bc he’s in his mid 20s and not going to do that actually.

And Dick believes Duke is going to become a big leader in the hero world and sees his potential despite not agreeing with the we are Robin thing.

And the fanon goes 1 of 3 ways

he’s fully uninvolved, doesn’t like the bats, has cut them off after trying to send Tim to Arkham, and abusing/ mistreating or co-signing the mistreatment of Jason. All his relationships with everyone except Damian have been erased. He ruined Tim’s trust, hated young!jason, has never spoken to Steph or duke and Cass doesn’t like him because she’s on babs side or in Hong Kong.

Or

Literally Bruce Wayne’s lapdog, says yes to everything with the worst case of battered women’s syndrome you’ve ever seen. Jason must stand up for him and protect him from the big bad bat/ the bats cut him off aswell after abandoning the bat movement (more rare but I’ve seen it). He doesn’t have critical thinking and his morals are identical to Batman’s and he refuses to question them. Will call the police on a homeless man stealing food bc it’s illegal. And has never tried to rehabilitate anyone including his friends, abandoned Roy and Kory bc of moral differences. He’s still a cop and doesn’t understand the nuance that Jason, Tim, Steph and Duke do.

Or

Dumb himbo, doesn’t know nothing except smile and nod. Pretty face, no brain. Has had one thought and it’s the fact he misses his siblings and needs his cereal oh wait was that two thoughts? He forgot how to count lmao. Babs or Tim will roll their eyes and do stuff for him bc he’s so dumb and sweet like a puppy who has had a lobotomy. :( doesn’t even have a college degree dumb silly teehee. Worst liar you’ve ever met everyone can see right through him hehe. He’s loves Bruce and calls him Dad 24/7 and uses nicknames for everyone.

And like it’s total flanderization

He has some of these traits sure, (more rigid moral compass, more willing to work with other heroes and delegate though this one literally only became a thing during Tom kings run and maybe a little bit after Donna died, in the current canon he went to Uni for business and dropped out, he’s not as good on the tech side as oracle)

But they’re just so exaggerated and I firmly believe it’s bc the rest of the bats are so extra. Like Tim trying to clone his dead bestie 99 times.

Jason goodness gracious I’ve been bamboozled let me try and kill the penguin on live tv

Damian my mother literally tore my spine out

. Duke let’s start a cult that’s something that isn’t dumb and won’t get us murdered.

And Dick is just there like… yeah fuck okay.

Like he’s still unhinged even for a superhero but he’s just objectively more hinged than all of his siblings like you’re telling me if TIM got the talon ancestry storyline shit wouldn’t have hit the fan??? The mother fucker who at age like 13 broke in Nightwing and starfire’s house, memorized all their schedules bc he’s the most insane stalker you’ve ever met. You’re lying and we both know it.

And everyone thinks their fave is the sane won and you are all just wrong I fear. I have already slandered Tim so I’ll do the rest for funsies

“Oh babs is the only sane one”

Bby Barbara is such a stalker with a need for control someone stole her tech and turned Gotham into a police state. If she decided that she wanted to go dictator she has a WHOLE setup for it. She’s also unhinged

“Jason just needs to get away from the bats then he’s the only sane one who the others go to for protection”

Yall Jason’s 2 biggest teams were

An Amazon, and a kryptonian

An arrow and an alien (also some times an Amazon)

So the league big three knock off and a titans knock off

He has also slept with his dad’s ex and 2 of his brother’s exes. Let’s not pretend that he’s being dragged back into the bat family, bro never left.

He wears a bat on his chest

He has a helmet with explosives in it… when he died in an explosion and fought with a crowbar when it was one of the major reasons he died. Let’s not talk about his whole thing with scarlet but the Morrison run had some weird characterization.

“Damian-“ no actually you can’t even start with Mr let’s go to Lazarus island. Let me adopt a giant bat monster bc my abusive childhood means I slaughtered his entire race. No actually I will not allow it. The fucker is unhinged and I love him.

“Steph” - you know what she is also my fave so everything she has ever done is justified and she has the best batgirl run and also her and Damian are hilarious. (She’s also the best female bat hands down I prefer her to both Cass and Babs for so many reasons I will not get into)

In summary this isn’t actually a criticism I find it hilarious plz keep going my darling fanon fanfic writers

[lalunanymph]

MARRY THE TRAITOR ; gojo satoru

⟡ the day you met your demise is the same day you met gojo satoru, your betrothed from a world so different from yours—a cruel prince who is undoubtedly in love with someone else. as the stakes rise and you race against the clock to beat your brutal fate, can you make the ultimate choice between your heart or your happily ever after?

includes: fem!reader, reader is a florist in our world, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, yandere!gojo, prince!gojo, princess!reader, reader is in cerena's body, princess cerena is described to have pink hair and feminine features, isekai-ed reader, mentions of death, mentions of blood, assault, injuries, smoking, mentions of terminal illnesses (cancer), language

⟡ masterlist

ACT 1, SCENE 1: MIRI'S REPRIEVE

It was horrifyingly cold tonight. 

Your body seized with bouts of shivers the second you stepped out of your shop, the smell of roses lingering in your hair. The lights are already switched off, the tulips you were shearing just a few seconds ago placed in crystal vases by the shop window to keep them from wilting overnight. 

However, as much as you try to distract yourself, there’s a shake in your hands you cannot ignore.

Pulling out a crumpled cigarette from your jacket pocket, you burn the end of the white stick with your cheap convenience store lighter, watching the flickering flames cast shadows across the wet road as you’re suddenly struck by a thought from a long, long time ago. 

The great Greek philosopher, Plato, once theorized that humans were born whole. 

Each of us, regardless of race, creed, or religion, shared one body, four arms, four legs and two faces fused together on a singular head. 

However, the gods—vain as they were—feared the human’s increasing power and Zeus himself devised to split them into two separate parts, forever condemning mortals to search for their other half in a journey filled with despair, longing and loneliness.  

The first time you heard this in Philosophy 101, a part of you was intrigued, if not a little terrified at the notion. While you weren’t a particularly huge subscriber to the idea of having a soulmate, it did have a sense of appeal for a girl raised on stories of handsome princes saving dainty princesses from their castles of grief and isolation. 

But, tonight, your jumbled mind can’t stay on Plato or distractions for too long. It constantly circles back to your mom.  

The scans she took had came back positive, and the doctor’s bleak voice on the other end of the line read like a death knell to your flimsy hopes that the cancer hadn’t spread further than her stomach. 

Your eyes weighed heavily, the burden of knowing sanding you to the bare bones till you felt close to breaking down on the cold road, screaming and shaking your fist at the night sky; cursing the gods for tearing the only person in the world who still loved you from your side.

Why they did it, you will never know. 

You weren’t exceptionally powerful nor did you pose a threat to the deities above. You were a simple florist in the middle of the city, trying to make ends meet and pay all your bills on time; nothing but a tax-paying citizen and a role model for small business women trying to make it big in a competitive city.

Smoke curls around your figure and you suck on the nicotine, letting it coat the back of your throat and numb the ends of your fingers.

Oblivious to your surroundings, you tread past an alleyway, ignoring the scampering of rats and smell of garbage burning through your nose. You inhale another toxic breath, expelling it out and watching the plume of smoke disappear upwards.

“Hey.” 

Nothing could prepare you for what came next. 

Turning around to appraise the voice calling you from the shadows, white hot pain cracks through your head, leaving you blind from the sudden assault.

Your cigarette falls somewhere at your feet, and you tumble to the gravelly ground on your hands and knees, skinning your palms as your ragged breaths echo in this dilapidated and abandoned alleyway. 

A hand shoots out to grab your purse, and before you can croak a yell or blindly turn to confront your assailant, another blow cracks down your skull, making you collide face first into the dirt-packed ground. 

Pain explodes in your face, white-hot and agonizing. Your breathing and the sound of blood rushing through your ears is the only thing you can hear as you breathe in the smell of dirt and blood, your head feeling like a thousand sparks of pain were going off at once. 

Cracking open your good eye, you catch a sliver of light in the distance; it washes over you, potent and soothing. The light at the end of the alleyway shimmers, and you think this is it—this is the last thing you will see from this world. 

Not your mother’s smile, or your best friend’s laugh. There are no flowers in your hand, no loved ones standing over your sickbed to kiss your cheek one last time before you depart this world.

It’s you, the floor, the blood trickling in your mouth, and your consciousness slowly ebbing away.

The last thing you remember before your world snuffs out like a pathetic candle is seeing the beady eyes of a rat shining in the dark, its long tail curling around its dirty body as it scampers closer and closer to you. 

And then, nothing else remains.

“... care to explain yourself?” 

The world is too bright, much too loud and you cringe back, a loud ringing clanging in your ears like the high-pitched squeal of a thousand nails on a chalkboard. 

What… is this scene? 

Your eyes struggle against the bright light and you wince, throwing your hand up to your face to ward off the glare. 

When your gaze finally focuses, you’re confronted by a pair of ice cold blue eyes, his sneer tearing through your mind like a bloody gash on white canvas. 

“Are you an imbecile?” His chilling tone laced with arrogance and contempt sears through you, leaving you mute and dumbstruck from this stranger’s sudden hostility. “I asked you if you would like to explain the accusations brought against you for hurting Miri.”

A girl with bright red hair and freckles splashed across her cheeks looks up at you with fear in her eyes. You take a step back, assessing her attire and countenance with open horror. Her pale face like the moon, dirt-streaked hands with stubby nails and a uniform splotched with indiscernible stains. 

But, that isn’t what draws your attention: it’s the look of contempt secretly masked under her woeful and pitiful expression. Those green eyes burn through you with the force of a thousand deaths, each one more painful than the last.

“Cerena.” 

Your eyes grow wider when you realize this strange man is speaking to you—calling you by an unknown name. 

As your attention shifts back to him, you’re stunned and breathless. His shock of pure white hair, towering stature and cruel, azure gaze never yields from your expressions, thin lips twisted into a baleful grimace. His attire is one you have never seen before: a regal, embroidered jacket and matching pants in the darkest shade of navy blue. Regalia and military medals drip from the lapels of his jacket like icy tears, each metallic glint striking more fear into your heart as you take in his majestic and imposing demeanor.

“I said, speak, wench!” 

Dexterous and pale fingers, like that of a violinist, grasps your jaw painfully as he jerks your face towards him. Instinctively, you tense and push him away, a petrified look on your face.

“Who are you?” 

Obviously, it wasn’t a question he was expecting. The princely man gives a dignified scoff, the corners of his lips twisting into a terrifying sneer. 

“Oh, so now you're playing the short term memory loss card? Stop begging for attention, Cerena, and own up to your mistakes.” He moves aside and the maid cowering behind him lifts her teary eyes to him, her pitiful state clearly tugging on his heart strings and his protective instincts. “Miri told me you slapped her when she wouldn’t braid your hair fast enough, and you even threw your tea at her. Pray tell, is that a way how a princess acts, Your Highness?” 

His words drip with venomous sarcasm. You open your mouth and then close it, unsure of how to respond to him—what you could even say in these circumstances.

But inside of you, welling deeply and painfully, is a surge of anger at being falsely accused for something you did not do. You have no idea who he is, who Miri was to him and who even is this woman called ‘Cerena’ he keeps on referring to you as.

What you do know is that he has slighted you with his openly hostile tone and body language, and if years of being a florist in a cutthroat business has taught you, it’s that you should always stand your ground against unruly customers to safeguard your reputation and dignity.

“I have no idea what you are speaking of,” your words come out frostier than you intended. Your sharp gaze sweeps to the other maids observing the spectacle with stony faces. “I wish to go back to my room.” 

Turning on your heel, you take one step forward and realize just how heavy your gown is. Lace and organza with dangling pendants woven through the thick fabric, you move as if walking in a vat of molasses, slow and controlled, when all you want to do is storm off. 

“Hey. I am not done speaking to you—”

It’s easy for him to catch up and grab your arm, impeding you from making your swift exit.

“Is this how you are to treat your subjects when we become wedded, Cerena? I would think that the princess of Kraith herself would have better manners and not behave like a barbarian!” 

His words snap something tight in your chest, and your nostrils flare. You break free from his grasp and spin around, fists clenched to your sides.

“Do not touch me,” your deathly warning stills the entire room. “Do not speak to me like this and if you wish to protect her reputation—”

Your eyes fall on the maid still cowering on the floor, her eyes turned to the ground, but a shadow of a smirk on her face belies her true intentions. 

She was attempting to frame me… or, Cerena. She is trying to get us in trouble with this powerful, spiteful man. 

“—next time, choose someone else who doesn’t make it obvious that this is all a ploy to smear my name.”

mtt fun fact: maids are divided into different tiers according to the nobles they serve. miri is at the bottom tier, and her scope of work mainly focuses on cleaning the hallways and stables

dawn says: it's bit of a shorter chapter, but trust, the drama is gonna hit you like thief-kun when he smashed our heads in yayy <33

!! reblogs and feedback and asks about this series are so beloved and appreciated and will motivate me to update and write faster <3

©️ all rights reserve to lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost or claim as your own.

[fairyminnie444]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

— 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘐 𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴!

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

𝓟𝓞𝓢𝓣𝓢 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

your subconscious is simpler than you think it is

you are NOT persisting if you are checking 3D and waiting for you DR!

you don’t try to manifest

Embodying the reality of your imagination

Manifesting is instantly

how should I see the role of other people in my reality?

ENDING the cycle of main frequent doubts that arise in our minds once and for all

“At your command”

EIYPO explained for you to understand and absorb

do you sometimes have that feeling that you NEED TO DO SOMETHING/TAKE ACTION to receive what you want?

“BIG” manifestations

What’s the “secret”?

Why You Can Change Your Physical Appearance and Overcome the Limitations of Biology

Why Others’ Manifestations Can’t Block Yours

I already know everything!! How do I apply this to my routine?

The “Sabbath State”

Yes, it’s perfectly okayyyy if you forget or get distracted by your routine.

affirmations to make it easier and “faster”

the ultimate post u need to LET GO

understanding your EGO so you don’t let it hold you back anymore

how to feel your desire in a natural way even if it seems unlikely?

even a negative view of circumstances can lead you to a positive one

manifesting $100,000 is as easy as manifesting $1

you already understood that! you are already there!

𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕚𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕞𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤

manifesting is supposed to be fun, light and easy!

~bad moments~ along the way happen, instead of ignoring them how to deal with them?

Act like the GOD you know you are.

Breaking Free from the Need for Proof

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

𝓐𝓢𝓚𝓢 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

i want to increase my height

what if my desires stay in imagination ans never externalize?

can we manifest multiple sps?

time travel (2)

What if others also try to manifest my celebrity sp…

how do you/did you convince yourself that manifesting/LOA is real

dealing with the 3D when it comes to using LOA (living in the wish fulfilled)

doubts affect my manifesting?

How does one take a very famous person « off the pedestal » in order to manifest them?

I want to change my birth name but i have to sign documental stuff

How I could live in the end when revising smth that if materialized would totally change my live in the 3d?

SPEC method

will it still manifest what we want even if we don’t have a clear picture on it?

I need help with my imagination.

how do i know if it's just taking its time or if i'm doing something wrong?

Can you go deeper into days/weeks of the 3D not changing and how to persist throughout the whole day when you're doing things?

What are your thoughts about getting back people who have p@ssed away? REVISION

YT Channels (sub, meditations, mentors)

I want to manifest the absence of something I've been experiencing for a long time (health and wellness related).

work on my self concept / deal with people who criticize or make me feel drained

simple breakdown to help you manifest your SP even if it feels delusional right now

trying to manifest a modeling career

manifest changing appearance and dna, but i also want to change my past to always have been this appearance and my parents too

everytime i think something is "never going to happen" or "hmm i've never seen xyz" it ends up happening?!?!

How can I manifest when I absolutely don't believe that I can?

how can i use daydreaming and listening to songs while manifesting?

someone asked me about my sp. what should I do in this case?

why is consuming more information about this law considered to be coming from lack when doing something in the 3d that "opposes your desire" not considered to be coming from lack?

I have too many things to manifest so what should I do? advice to me in harsh way

struggle with is my celeb sp and my dream job

how would you manifest hectochromia eyes?

EIYPO everything like a puppet and me it’s master pulling the strings? Does it mean that “ancestors,” “angels,” etc. are not existent, only me?

Why Some Manifestations Work Effortlessly

advices for manifesting with mental disorders

can manifest such extreme beauty that everyone in a shopping mall turns to look at me. Even though I'm not the standard and I'm common

I’m manifesting a new face, but visualising it doesn’t make me feel anything?

how do i make sure that happens for certain? i'm scared it won't

What do you think about manifesting being immortal?

+ tips on manifesting a bf/significant other

struggling with feeling the feelings and believing that it’ll happen.

I can never manifest anything related to MONEY purely

date with the guy I like However, I am a very physically insecure girl and I am too scared and nervous.

i dont know what i did wrong, i really thought this would work, i was sure about it but it didn’t and i can’t helped but feel discouraged

I have a fear that some of my manifestation will dissapear

If everything we are seeing in the 3D is assumptions we made through our life, why does sometimes when we are like 100% sure of something and then we figured it is not?

was confident, my affirmation was "no matter how and what, i have all A's" but alas i did in fact not get all A's.

i WANT to see a people who actually manifested things that changed their past, their reality

i wanna manifest more lenient parents

I’m religious so I believe in a higher power/god, but I do still believe in my own power/ Will this hinder my manifestation process because I believe in a higher power?

What am I doing wrong? SP related

how can i.. like manifest or just "undo" it??

I want to manifest my natural hair color being blond, but i have black hair and also my parents, do i have to detail everyone in my family who is blonde for my new genes?

I feel like I can't anymore, that I'm giving in… I feel stuck

i’m really confused in the living in the end thing and others things in my manifestation

I simply want to be like those people who are successful in curing their illnesses

what do you recommend me doing to change my birth year while not ignoring the reality and still living in the end?

Can our negative thoughts manifest if we think them for a long time and then stop thinking them?

How to use chatpgt to clear doubts and manifest

Tips for beginners

why do some people's jokes manifest if they don't assume those jokes are true?

how to stop paying attention to old failed attempts

How do you deal with hopelessness or desperation.

i’m scared that my fears will manifest itself and it’s out of my control

waiting mode

I feel guilty wanting to manifest

I try to live in the 4D but catch myself expecting the 3D to immediately reflect it

PART 2 - MASTERLIST

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

[leah-lover]

Drive to survive. Leah Williamson x F1!reader

Who is going to replace Lewis Hamilton? This question has taken the f1 media by storm for a whole season. Some believed it would be Andrea Kimi Antonelli, while others hoped for Max Verstappen, or Carlos sainz. However none of them expected you. A woman would join F1 in one  of the most decorated cars in recent years. A woman would take the seat of the legendary Lewis Hamilton. 

The support was significant but the pushback was overwhelming. Many people applauded you for entering a male dominated field. They went on saying how much of a role model you were to young women, how you would change the f1 world forever, bring in new fans , and make f1 a more equal place in real life not just on paper. The other drivers welcomed you with open arms in their interaction with you or in  the way they talked about you most importantly lewis. 

As a result of your new found fame you were asked to join events and panels talking about women's sport or women in sports. Throughout your pre-season you were fully booked from training to preseason testing to the media event. 

The only time you ever thought about something other than how radical what you are doing is or what you were going to do next was when you saw a particularly stunning person. 

A tall blonde woman with a great mind you took a glimpse through when she answered the questions she was asked in the BBC panel you were on. She was educated, beautiful, well mannered, beautiful, very good with her words, and very very beautiful. 

You answered your questions to the best of your ability, took some pictures and headed towards the green room. When you came in you looked at the table and saw snacks and one lone mini chocolate bar. As you extended your hand to grab, you were met by another one going for it too. You extracted your hand quickly and looked at the eventual winner of the mini chocolate bar. It was her, the blond beauty that goes by Leah Williamson. 

“ Uhmm sorry. Here, take it.” Said the smiling young woman. 

“ No it's fine, you go ahead, I shouldn't anyway. It's pre-season.” You responded.

“ We can split it then. I am sure half of a mini bar isn't going to hurt.” She added. 

You two then split the bar. “ I am Leah Williamson.” She said as she extended her hand. You told her your name and shook her hand. 

“ You were very good there. Very good answers.” You complimented Leah. 

“ You too.” She said shyly. 

“ Do you want to get out of here?” You ask. 

“ Does that line work on everyone you meet?” 

You laugh nervously. “ No. I don't use it much. Uhmm, I am hungry and I want a buddy to go get food with.” 

“ I am sorry, I have to go to another press conference. But maybe someday soon.” 

You hand her your phone so that she can save her number in. When you look at the name she saved her number as “ arsenal's number 6.” Which gave you a glimpse of her sense of humor. 

Your season started a short while after you two started to date. You clicked instantly and one might say it was love at first sight since it only took 6 dates over 2 weeks for you to reveal that you two loved each other. 

You both  understood that your careers were busy, her with arsenal's and the lionesses and you with traveling around the world and driving your fast car. 

The start of your season was expectedly slow. You were decent throughout the qualifiers.  You started at p6 in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Australia, all the way through china. You were a little overwhelmed by all the media attention and scrutiny. But by round 8 you scored your first p4 which you interchanged by p5. 

You were very excited for your home race on Silverstone. You were excited by the presence of your friends and family, and most importantly your girlfriend. While other lionesses were invited in my McLaren you insisted on Leah being in the Mercedes garage with you. 

Knowing your girlfriend was going to watch you for the first time, knowing she was there for you and only you, gave you more motivation than you ever hoped for. You got in your car for qualifying ready to impress. As soon as you left the garage, you pushed the car to the limit which gave you your first ever pole position in F1. You were ecstatic and the team was happy for you too. 

Race day was crazy, you couldn't see your girlfriend because you had to prepare yourself for what probably was going to be a rainy race. 

The track was dry and empty in front of you. You were in pole, you just had to keep your position. As soon as the light turned green you pushed as fast as you could. Your team informed you of a few crashes behind you and an angry Max Verstappen in a red bull. The red bull team expressed their concerns about foul play in my result in qualifiers which led max to have an alleged grudge. You didn't think much of it, you just focused on staying in p1. 

“ Careful Max is being reckless trying to overtake you “ said one of your guys on the radio. You couldn't let fear creep in after all your girlfriend was watching. She to whom you promised the win. 

You went on denying him every opportunity to overtake and in time the race was just about you and Max going head to head with all the others being a full lap behind. You kept thinking of Leah and the sex you two would have after the win and how proud she would be of you. That was what gave you the edge over him .

You two changed tires at the same time. While Mercedes was faster, Red Bull was fast too. You speeded out of the box, felt a shock wave throughout the entire car. You didn't register what happened quickly. Your brain went silent then you said some words to yourself.

“ Silverstone, Leah, pole, win, box, max.” You thought. The car was getting hot, and you were getting light headed. You heard a voice through your ear but you couldn't register what they said. 

A few seconds passed before you saw an ambulance, you heard sirens and saw white foamy gas. The kind of gas they used for fires. 

“ Fires, I crashed, the car is on fire.” You thought again and quickly tried to get out of the car. 

You wanted to get up but couldn't. You were dizzy. You were going to die. 

[barbiegirldream]

What's happening here is Dream grew up normally like all of us on the internet with friends a few years older than him (BBH and George) and a few his age. A few a couple years younger (Sapnap) and he just had friendships. BBH and George taught him things. Dream coached Sapnap through talking to girls when they were back in high school. They were all friends they hung out. And still do.

Tommy for some reason at 16 decided every older person on the internet Dream, Wilbur, Philza that he knew was a role model, a big brother figure, an idol. He decided this on his own and tried to see relationships work out exactly like he envisioned in his head. You could maybe say Phil played into it a lot. But obviously the Wilbur and Dream images crashed and burned. And he's upset about his parent's divorce like a little kid would be unable to handle it. And his other 'stable' friendships are gone. So now he's insistent he was manipulated into having all these thoughts and emotions. When Dream was literally just being friendly and sharing YouTube info and taking time to roleplay on a server that didn't matter to his career to be kind.

[sexlapis]

i only see you

⤷ cw : jealousy, doubt, a little bit of arguing, angst to fluff but not too bad :)

actor! toji x gn actress/actor! reader

a/n: i decided to put these two asks together. great minds think alike!

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

you regret coming here.

arms crossed, lips downward, and brows so furrowed that they basically cast a shadow over your eyes as you watched toji and his…co-worker from afar.

toji was played a minor role in quite a popular tv series and that popular tv series included a..love interest. now of course, toji asked you first if it was okay - he would’ve never agreed to the role if it made you sad or uncomfortable. being the good partner that you were, not wanting to limit his career choices because of your own feelings, you easily gave him permission to do so.

you’re starting to regret that too.

the actress is so obviously into him, which of course wouldn’t have been a problem if toji wasn’t your boyfriend. she has been like this all of the times you have visited toji on set. you two haven’t decided to go public yet, but god right this second, you wish you had.

and she is gorgeous. tall, long and silky brown hair, bright green eyes, a model-like visage…you attempt to push down that nasty feeling of jealousy that builds up inside of you, but it’s useless. you hated seeing this, really. and if you are honest with yourself, you’d admit that you never want toji to take any acting roles where he would have a love interest, because you hated seeing toji being lovey dovey with another person. even if it was just ‘acting’.

toji sits in his directors chair on his phone while the model stands besides him, speaking. you can’t hear what they’re saying, but she’s clearly trying to look attractive for him - twirling her hair, discreetly pushing her cleavage together, biting and licking her lips…you know your boyfriend was hot but god, does she have to be so obvious? it made you kind of sick.

and then she does something unbelievable.

the model runs her finger up toji’s bicep, circling around him like he’s prey to stand behind where he sits and starts massaging his shoulders.

your jaw is basically on the floor at this point, shocked at her audacity (even thought she is doing this under the assumption that toji is a single man).

toji eyes widen a little, and he looks a little awkward. and then he looks up at her and smiles.

smiles?

your eyes wander around and you see that the crew members are also looking at this little display of…whatever the hell it was. they whisper amongst themselves, taking small glances at where you stand and you decide you’ve seen enough, already embarrassed enough, you leave the set without saying goodbye to toji. you want nothing more than to return home to the comfort of your apartment.

౨ৎ

it’s the next day and you haven’t spoken to toji since that..incident.

you decide to distract yourself with baking, reading, crocheting, painting, all of your hobbies to make you forget about what happened yesterday.

sure, you could just speak to toji, but this has happened twice now, so you think you have the right to give toji a little silent treatment.

you’re laying on your couch reading a booking when your phone buzzes on the coffee table. sighing, you pick it up, unlocking it. there’s a message from your friend shoko.

————

shoko

[link] ???????????

————

you hesitantly click on the link, lowkey scared for what it is. it’s a celebrity news article from a few hours ago, talking about how toji and his new co-worker are dating.

“inside sources have told us that toji and his co-worker, a model playing his love interest, are dating! sorry tojiyn lovers, your ship has sank!”

it’s mocking wording pisses you off and makes your eye twitch. no matter how long you have been famous for, the lies of the media are something you will never get used to.

————

shoko

it’s already trending on twitter…

————

that sets you off and you throw your phone across the room, screaming in your hands.

it was probably those crew members, you thought bitterly.

there is a knock at your door. that’s odd, you weren’t expecting any visitors or packages today.

sighing, you walk over the door but not before looking through the peephole first. the sight has you huffing.

you open the door and there stands toji.

“you ready to talk to me now or what?” he asks in his usual brash, straightforward manner.

you’re already walking away to the kitchen to make yourself tea, leaving the door open as an unspoken invitation. “wow, not even a ‘hello?’ she really has changed you, huh?”

“what?” toji walks to where you are, careful not to make any sudden movements that would piss you off more than you already are, “who’s she? what the hell are you talking about?”

you grunt, setting the water to boil and taking your favourite mug out. you turn to retrieve a teabag but toji is cornering you, pressing and trapping you against the counter.

“ugh, toji!” you groan, trying to escape his arms for barriers but he doesn’t budge.

“no.” he says firmly before taking on a softer tone. “talk to me..please.”

crossing your arms, you lean back on the counter and look at the floor. “what’d you wanna know?”

“i wanna know why you ain’t talkin’ to me.”

“i don’t know why don’t you go ask your new girlfriend!” you shout, ashamed to admit that a few tears formed in your eyes after that outburst of yours.

“my new-? _____, what are you…oh…this is about her.”

“her who?!” you almost shout again, impatient and throwing your arms around. “the one who you let just fucking touch you and massage you all the time?”

“oh, baby.” toji sighs, cupping your face, wiping the tears that you didn’t even know started to fall. “i know, i know. i shoulda told her to cut it out way sooner than i did..jus’ didn’t wanna make shit weird on set. but that don’t matter, i shoulda done it to make you feel okay..’m sorry..”

you hum, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. you missed his touch even thought it had only been a day.

i’m so lame.

toji hugs you and you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your face on his pectoral.

“..and i did tell her i’m with someone.” you look up, afraid he told her about your relationship. “i didn’t tell ‘er it was you, don’t worry. ‘said she was sorry and won’t push any boundaries.”

“…you believe her?” you ask, honestly doubtful and still a little jealous because of that whole fiasco.

“well, ‘m just gonna have to.” he kissing the top of you head before pulling your face away from his chest, making you look up at him. “but hey, you don’t gotta worry about anythin’ like that, sweetie. seriously. i only have eyes for you. nobody else. i…i only love you.. believe that.”

“toji..” you warble, pushing your face into his chest again.

toji chuckles, face a little red due to his own words and speaks again. “but you gotta promise me you’ll just talk to me if i do somethin’ that makes you sad, okay? i don’t wanna go around pissin’ my girlfriend off all the time.”

you laugh, sniffling. “yes, i promise.”

toji smiles down at you, kissing your forehead. you both stand there embracing each other for a few moments before he decides to break the silence.

“why don’t you make toji some tea too? ♡.”

a teabag is thrown in his face.

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @raven-r0ses | @ib4ryuguji

a/n i enjoyed writing this one a lot <3

[ethofangorl]

Hermitcraft/life series incorrect quotes

Scot: Can I have some water?  Joel: *starts chugging their water bottle*  Joel: *chokes from drinking too fast*  Joel: *spills water all over themself*  Joel, coughing: I don't have any water.

Scar: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconuts, so BABY OIL-  Cleo: CAN'T WE JUST HAVE A NICE FAMILY DINNER FOR ONCE?!

Grian: Act natural.  Mumbo: For this kind of situation, the most natural thing would be to panic, so technically I can panic.  Grian: NO, that’s not what I meant! Act like it’s a normal day!  Mumbo: My ‘normal’ days of late, consist of a lot of panic.  Grian: Will you just cooperate?  Mumbo: When a person is panicking, they are not apt to cooperate very well!

Grian: You really believe in Joel?  Lizzie: Luckily, they believe in themself enough for the both of us

Scar: You should see Grian, he’s a total tsundere. Isn’t he just the best? Gem: He stabbed you.

Scar, throwing their head into Grian's lap: Tell me I'm pretty!  Grian, lovingly stroking their hair:You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are

Cleo: I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face, but with words!

Doc: I apologize for saying 'fuck' in front of Gem.  Ren: You just said it again.  Gem: Doc: I am not a role model.

Lifers reactions to being called straight:  Joel: The fuck, no I'm not.  Ren: Excuse the hell out of you?  Scar: Ding dong, you are wrong!  Martyn: Who told you that? And why did they lie?  Grian: Rude.  Cleo: *punches the person*

Grian: Scar... you've been cuddling with me for over and hour now.  Scar: *muffled* mm hmmm :)  Grian: Fuck. I should be annoyed but you're adorable.

Joel: Bitch.  Bdubs: Blocked.  Joel: Wait unblock me I need to tell you something.  Bdubs: Unblocked.  Joel: Bitch.

Scot: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell!  Martyn: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Fucking say that next time!

Ren To Mumbo: Wow, left handed AND British? You really are an illusion.

Gem: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying.  Joel: And?  Gem: And you are.

Grian: I’ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'little shit’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun

Grian: The best way to gain someone's undying loyalty is by saving them from a perilous situation.  Scot: So you're just gonna wait until Scar is in danger and save them?  Grian: Of course not, I'm going to create a situation that puts them in danger and then save them.  Scot: ...  Scot: You're insane.

Grian: The time to act is now.  Scar: Wink, wink.  Grian: Don't say "wink wink". Just wink.  Scar: Oh, sorry.  Scar: Wink.

*lifers at a family dinner*  Pearl: Can you pass the salt?  Scot: *throws Joel across the table*

Tango: Did you buy eggs like I asked?  Jimmy: Even better!  Tango: What the fuck did you-  Jimmy: *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy Tango: She’s… beautiful!

Skizz: I’ve never asked someone out. How do you even do it?  Joel: Oh, what I do is, I look them up and down and I say: “Hey… how you doin’?”  Skizz, scoffing: Oh, please.  Joel, to Jimmy: Hey, how you doin’?  Jimmy: jimmy: *giggles and blushes*

Joel, driving in his car with the other winners and singing to the Little Einsteins theme song: We’re going on a trip-  Martyn: In our favorite piece of shit!  Grian: Doing 95!  Scot: We’re gonna fucking die!

Scar: The clock is ticking! We don't have time for this asinine tomfoolery!  Impulse: This unmitigated poppycock?  Gem: Extravagant hogwash!  Grian and Mumbo: Okay, stop.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [15]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 14 | Fic Masterlist | Part 16

"I still don't understand why you had to creep around instead of just approaching her and introducing yourself properly," Jongho remarked, rolling his eyes as Wooyoung clicked his tongue in frustration, "Oh, come on! Can you blame me? She's so beautiful, I got nervous, alright?! I've never had to talk to her before, and I just... I panicked!"

The assistant squinted at his friend, "You do realise if the general catches wind of any of that, you'll be out of a job. Don't tell me you have a crush on our mistress..."

"And you don't?!" The private investigator squeaked, eyes widening in disbelief as Jongho shook his head, unamused, "That's inappropriate. Don't you ever suggest such a thing again."

Wooyoung kept his mouth shut, realising that his friend would be the last person interested in hearing him gush about how pretty he found you. He was fully aware that you were his employer's wife and therefore off-limits. Still, it wouldn't hurt to indulge in the innocent fantasy of being a secret admirer.

Besides, he still valued his life, and it wasn't as if he was actually in love with you or anything. Deep down, humans are all visual animals, and he found his tiny crush on you completely justifiable.

Turning serious, Jongho inquired, "So, what did the mistress need help with? She's been secluded in the study ever since Prince Yeosang's departure and hadn't spoken to any of us until you showed up. Something must have happened."

With a smug nod, Wooyoung responded, "Ah, it seems I already know more than you. How does that feel, senior assistant Choi?" His grin disappeared when the younger man did not react as expected, only staring him down intimidatingly, as if daring him to continue with his playful shenanigans, "Ugh, fine, sheesh. The fourth prince invited her to his birthday banquet happening next week. She's really anxious since it's her first royal event and without General Park. She wants guidance on dealing with the royals."

Head shooting up at the revelation, the assistant knitted his brows together in concern, "The fourth prince... invited her to his birthday banquet? Did he say why?"

The private investigator shrugged, a hint of nonchalance in his tone, "He mentioned that since General Park is away, he hoped Lady Park could represent him this year."

A troubled expression clouded Jongho's features as he processed the information, his mind racing with possible implications. The idea of His Highness extending such an invitation seemed out of the ordinary, sparking unease within him.

Noticing the younger man's troubled demeanour, Wooyoung nudged him on the shoulder, concern evident in his voice, "Why do you look so bothered, man? What's on your mind?"

Jongho's stomach churned as he mulled over his thoughts, his voice tinged with apprehension as he responded, "I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been any of the other princes. But Prince Yeosang? He hasn't hosted a single birthday banquet in years. And besides, his connection with the general is minimal at best. So... what do you think he wants with our mistress?"

That revelation made the private investigator sit up straight, suddenly grasping the complexity of the situation. If what his friend said held true, it meant the fourth prince was plotting something. A surge of protectiveness for you washed over him, wanting to ensure your safety and not let his role model down.

Turning to the assistant, he asked, "Damn, I don't like the sound of that. So what's our move? Should we warn her?"

Jongho shook his head adamantly, "Absolutely not. She'd panic, and that's the last thing we need. I'll fetch the dressmaker; he's one of the general's closest friends, and along with Physician Jung's help, we'll try to figure this out."

"Oh, one more thing!" Wooyoung interjected, grabbing the younger man's attention, "Lady Park did mention that it would be great if she could somehow get in touch with Royal Secretary Choi. It seems she believes he's the only one who can offer helpful advice for navigating the royal event."

Pondering this information quietly, the assistant nodded, "Fortunately, I've corresponded with him on behalf of the general several times. I should be able to reach him easily."

Jongho furrowed his brows, noticing the unsettled expression on the investigator's face, "What's bothering you now?"

Wooyoung sighed, his expression clouded with uncertainty, "The lady also expressed her doubts about whether the royal secretary would even consider helping her. She's unsure if someone as busy as him would take the time to assist her."

Shaking his head, the assistant offered reassurance, "Don't worry. Royal Secretary Choi is genuinely one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. He shares a friendship with the general and will certainly lend a hand to our mistress if she needs it."

That would soon be clear to them all when San arrived to grace everyone in the general's estate with his presence in just a few days, leaving Hongjoong, Yunho, and Wooyoung in awe as they watched the handsome man with an exceptionally fit physique—perhaps a little too fit to be a mere secretary—walk past the three of them, who were sitting in the living hall, with a respectful nod and courteous smile.

Jongho exchanged knowing glances with them as he ushered the royal secretary into the estate and towards the study, where you awaited his guidance with your studies.

"Am I the only one who thinks that guy seems more suited for the battlefield than the royal office?" Wooyoung quipped, prompting a reluctant nod from Hongjoong. For some inexplicable reason, he found the private investigator mildly annoying, almost like a younger brother, "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right about that. He does give off that vibe."

Yunho, known for his wisdom and maturity, offered a shrug in response, "We shouldn't judge someone solely by their appearance. Perhaps the royal secretary excels in matters of intelligence rather than physical strength."

Rolling his eyes, the dressmaker fired back, "Obviously, we're just joking. Lighten up a little, Yunho, or you'll never find a wife with that boring ass attitude."

The physician pursed his lips at the jab, while Wooyoung watched with amusement as the banter between the two friends unfolded, "Says you? You're older and still single. Perhaps the problem lies closer to home."

Hongjoong scoffed in disbelief and placed his hands on his hips, "Excuse you, I'll have you know there are plenty of women vying for my attention every day. It's not my fault I have standards."

"I could say the same." Yunho retorted.

Before the banter could escalate, Jongho intervened with a heavy sigh, "I leave for a minute, and you're already arguing. How is it that all of you are older than me?"

"I agree, assistant Choi. Their behaviour was rather immature," The investigator remarked, feigning innocence when the doctor raised an eyebrow, "You're the one who instigated the whole thing."

Just as Wooyoung opened his mouth to defend himself, the assistant rubbed his temple wearily, "Oh my god, enough. Let's not forget why we're here today—to figure out the intentions of Prince Yeosang regarding our mistress."

"Is that the purpose of this gathering?" Eunsook queried as she appeared by the entrance of the living hall.

The four nodded in confirmation, and the head maid sighed before joining them, "If that's the case, I believe I may be of help. I was with the mistress in the palace on the day the master discovered he had to depart for war. Something happened with the prince while we awaited the general's return from his emergency meeting."

As she recounted the incident at the cherry blossom garden, a dawning realisation settled over all of them. Suddenly, it all clicked into place: why Yeosang, known for despising his own birthday due to its reminders of his painful existence, was now planning a celebration and extending an invitation to Lady Park, of all people. It was clear to the group that the prince had set his sights on the general's wife, and this elaborate scheme was likely his attempt to lure you away from Seonghwa.

"I understand we're all concerned about what His Highness might attempt to win over our mistress, but I believe we should have a little faith in her. Her devotion to General Park is undeniable. I don't think she would easily forsake him after all he's done for her." The physician suggested, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

As the others visibly relaxed with the reminder, the dressmaker appeared to be the only one still troubled, "Yeah, about that..." The dread in the room heightened at Hongjoong's uneasy expression.

"What is it?" Jongho inquired cautiously.

With a frustrated expression, the eldest man among them ran a hand through his hair before recounting the recent encounter with Jinjoo, your stepsister, and the doubts you were starting to entertain about your husband, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

The elderly woman's stomach sank at the revelation, but she shook her head to reassure the dressmaker, "No, Hongjoong, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known her stepsister would be there. No matter how much we deny it, the truth has a way of surfacing. We can't hide it from her forever."

The others nodded in agreement, though filled with worry at the implications. They knew Eunsook was right. Eventually, you would likely discover the truth. They just hadn't expected it to happen so soon, especially with Seonghwa away at war. The thought of you being possibly swayed by the fourth prince's charms sent shivers down all their spines.

Well shit, that's not good at all.

"San, you're an absolute lifesaver. Thank you so much." You expressed with gratitude after the lengthy crash course he had just given you on dealing with royal figures when attending such events, offering a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Returning the smile, the royal secretary noticed the fatigue and stress evident in your expression. He sensed there was more to your distress than just the fourth prince's sudden invitation to his birthday banquet. Perhaps his close relationship with his elder sister had sharpened his perception of women's emotions.

Observing your troubled expression, San gently inquired, "Are you feeling quite alright, Lady Park? If you're worried about the general, I can assure you that he is being partnered with only the best military strategist in all of Joseon. They have yet to lose a single battle thus far, I'm sure this time would be no different."

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words. On one hand, you appreciated his attempt to ease your worries about your husband's safety. On the other hand, a nagging curiosity gnawed at your mind, Jinjoo's words still lingering, urging you to delve deeper into the mysteries surrounding your family's punishments.

San's position as the royal secretary and his close friendship with the general made him an ideal source of information. Surely, he would know the intricate details of the case and could provide you with the answers you sought. However, the thought of uncovering the full truth filled you with trepidation.

What if reality's more than you could bear?

You wrestled with your inner turmoil, unsure of whether to broach the subject with Royal Secretary Choi. Part of you yearned for closure, to finally understand the events that took place without your knowledge. Yet, another part hesitated, fearing the potential consequences of unearthing Seonghwa's carefully buried secrets.

As you glanced at San, who was patiently awaiting your response, you grappled with your decision. Would you dare to confront the shadows of your fears, or would you continue to dwell in uncertainty, afraid of what truths lay beneath?

To hell with it.

Taking a deep breath, you responded, "Thank you for your reassurance regarding my husband's capabilities. However, that's not precisely what's weighing on my mind..."

He arched a curious eyebrow, intrigued by what other concerns could possibly be bothering you besides Seonghwa's safety, "I'm all ears, my lady." He offered, inviting you to share your thoughts.

Lowering your head, you recounted your recent encounter with your stepsister and the unsettling doubts it had stirred within you. Then, with a hesitant tone, you inquired, "May I seek clarification from you regarding my husband's role in the Jang family's punishments?"

San maintained a composed smile, betraying no hint of shock at your revelation. With a calm demeanour, he laced his fingers together before him, "I empathise with your concerns, Lady Park, and I want you to know that they are valid. While the details of the case are confidential, I can offer some clarity to ease your worries."

You held your breath as he continued, "The truth is, His Majesty was responsible for determining your family's physical punishments, but the general took charge of overseeing the entire process."

So, it's true.

Your heart sank at the confirmation.

"Understandably, you may find his involvement frightening. However, you need to know that this has always been the nature of his job. If you think him cruel, remember that every drop of blood shed was in service of this nation's security. He's doing what only a few have the guts to do. And in this case, it's out of love for you that he was determined to ensure that those who harmed you and your mother faced justice. My lady, can you truly fault him for that?"

His words struck you like a boulder, and you realised he might be onto something.

The royal secretary grinned as he observed your expression, knowing his words were making an impact, "Besides, you've been here long enough to witness how good he can be to those he cares about. That includes you, all the staff in this estate, as well as his loyal friends currently seated in the living hall. Surely, there must be a good reason why these people choose to remain by his side, wouldn't you agree?"

Noting your silence and contemplative expression, San understood that you needed time to digest everything. While he hoped he had made a valid point, he knew that your conflicting emotions wouldn't dissipate so easily. Nevertheless, he had done his best to encourage you to keep an open mind and speak the truth.

Ultimately, the next steps were up to you.

"As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I have another appointment scheduled in an hour, so I should probably head to my next destination." He announced, rising from his seat opposite you.

His words snapped you out of your reverie as you got up after him, "Ah, yes, of course. I can't thank you enough for everything, San."

As you escorted him towards the exit, he smiled warmly at you, "You're most welcome, Lady Park. Don't fret too much about the royal event next week. I'm sure you'll do splendidly, especially considering you've already managed to impress the fourth prince. He's not an easy royal to handle, so that's quite an achievement."

Prince Yeosang is... not easy to handle?

Before you could ask him to elaborate, the royal secretary was already boarding his carriage. With a defeated sigh, you waved at him as the vehicle began to pull away.

Heading back inside, your mind reeled from his words. His Highness had never seemed difficult around you, so you struggled to comprehend what San meant. Besides his slightly playful demeanour, you didn't find the prince hard to handle in any way.

Before you knew it, your head began to throb with the endless thoughts swirling around. Eunsook rushed over in concern when she saw you swaying, your hands pressed against your temples.

"Mistress! Are you feeling alright? Oh dear, you look exhausted," She exclaimed, her worry evident in her voice, "That's enough studying for today. Go and rest. I'll bring you dinner when it's ready."

Throughout the rest of the week, Jongho and the others couldn't bring themselves to warn you about the potential advances of the fourth prince. They noticed how visibly stressed you were, dedicating all your time to refining your ladylike etiquette and practising formal speech with the head maid. Your determination for perfection in your debut at a royal event was clear as day.

After receiving all the help you needed, you were finally ready for the banquet. Standing before the mirror, you inspected yourself, admiring the delicate red flower the dressmaker had once again helped you paint on your forehead, perfectly complementing your new hanbok, "Are you pleased with the look, Lady Park?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely, Hongjoong. You never disappoint, and you know that."

With newfound confidence, you departed from the general's estate, accompanied by Jongho and Eunsook. Mentally reviewing the list of potential royals in attendance, you appreciated Wooyoung's efforts in the past week as he assisted you with retrieving specific books from the public library and studying the royal family tree.

The private investigator lingered near the estate's entrance after seeing you off, his jaw slightly agape. He had always found you pretty, but seeing you all dressed up and with the flower on your forehead, he was struck by your ethereal beauty. Just as he was about to entertain the thought that Seonghwa must have saved an entire country to deserve someone like you, he realised that might actually be true.

"Excuse me, Jung Wooyoung. That's not your lady to be ogling like that. Behave yourself, or I'll have to whoop your ass on behalf of the general." Hongjoong warned, rolling his eyes as the younger man pouted before sulking back inside the estate.

As your carriage approached the familiar high palace walls, Jongho and Eunsook exchanged determined glances. They had agreed to stick by your side at all times, wanting to protect you from whatever schemes Prince Yeosang might have planned for the event.

"We've arrived, mistress." The assistant announced as the carriage came to a stop.

With the head maid's assistance, you stepped down from the carriage with slightly less ease than when your husband carried you, feeling a pang in your heart as you were reminded of him. Despite your complicated feelings, you couldn't deny the longing for his presence. You hoped he was safe and well while you attended the birthday celebration of another.

Approaching the grand entrance of the hall hosting the fourth prince's birthday banquet, you noticed that the palace staff responsible for announcing guests had recognised you immediately, sparing Jongho the need to introduce you. As you reached the entrance, the staff announced in a loud voice, "Miss Jang, eldest daughter of the former Minister of Military Affairs, has arrived."

Your shock was palpable as the announcement rang out, your eyes widening and your stomach sinking at the unexpected introduction. The last thing you wanted was to be associated with your father, especially not at such a prestigious event. You had been specifically told by the prince that you were here to represent your husband. So why would they announce you like that, using your past title, when you now held a new and official one as the general's wife? The discrepancy left you feeling uneasy and out of place as you stepped into the grand hall.

What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?

« Preview of Part 16 »

"General Park! Letters for General Park!"

The messenger's urgent cry echoed through the camp, drawing attention to the main tent where Seonghwa typically conducted his affairs between battles. Bursting into the tent, the messenger gasped for breath, his eyes darting around, "Sir, may I enter?"

"Come in," A deep voice replied, but it wasn't the general's. Officer Song, the military strategist, sat alone inside, his gaze fixed on the newcomer, "General Park is uhh... preoccupied elsewhere at the moment. What brings you here, soldier?"

Handing over the stack of letters he carried, the messenger answered, "The general has received a few missives, one from his assistant and another from His Highness, the fourth prince."

Mingi's brow furrowed in confusion, "The fourth prince?"

The messenger nodded vigorously, "Yes, His Highness mentioned it's regarding an urgent matter and should be delivered to the general as soon as possible."

Officer Song nodded in acknowledgement, "I see. Leave it to me, soldier. I'll ensure it reaches him as soon as he's available."

As soon as the messenger departed, Mingi's curiosity overwhelmed him, and he unfolded the letter from Prince Yeosang. His breath hitched as he absorbed the concise yet weighty message. The prince started off by conveying gratitude for Seonghwa's service to the nation and extended well wishes, reassuring him not to worry about returning.

However, the content took a surprising turn with his final paragraph.

'Out of respect for you, I am writing to inform you that I will be proposing to Miss Jang. I believe she deserves the freedom to choose her own husband. Perhaps what she needs is someone who can remain by her side and not cause her any worry. If you truly care about her happiness, you would understand.'

Once again setting the stage for the main event HAHA sorry for the (sorta) filler chapter, but I promise there will definitely be drama in the next part.😈

Also, thank you so much for 1.3k followers! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Awkward Tales - Vignette 1: The Nervous Flirt

When the Great Shift hit the world, everyone was thrown into chaos. However, eventually society resettled into a new and more accepting form. At some point everyone would have to get used to their new bodies… right?

Well for a few individuals out there, after the great shift, they still were… adjusting. No matter how much time happened, some were cursed with an awkward new perspective in life. 

Maxwell, was nervous. More nervous than usual! Before the great shift, he had recently come out as gay to his close friends and family! While, they were all super accepting and happy for him, that didn’t solve his issues… talking to people he liked! No matter how many times he tried, he would turn into a stuttering mess whenever a hot guy was in the vicinity. He was lucky enough that his small unassuming frame meant no one could see his failures.

When the great shift happened, he thought things might be different.  New body! New me! That was the mantra he’d heard many people say as he had browsed forums and self help spaces. Turns out many people just needed a new body to reorient their social skills and  come out of their shell! At first Maxwell thought he’d be one of them!

He knew that he was a lot stronger in this body. He still wore his glasses, but these arms were no joke. Plus he didn’t have any skin issues anymore and he finally had some decent facial hair to work with! It all seemed to add up to something of a turning point for his life. 

That wasn’t the case.

Turns out a new body came with the same issues PLUS a few new ones too. Maxwell couldn’t form a straight sentence around hot guys, even newly hot guys who had never been hit on before! Even if Maxwell was just as handsome and good looking, his words fell apart at the slightest bit of attraction. Not only that, but his pool of attraction doubled. Apparently the guy he’d become was bisexual and loved flirting with men and women! So now not only did hot men make his speech a mess, but beautiful ladies did as well! A single hot woman could ruin his night if she asked for directions! A studly man asking if he wanted a drink would have him run out of the bar! No matter what seemed to happen, Maxwell was still an awkward dork.

Going from 5’5 to 6’2 didn’t help either. Now everyone could see this towering confident stud look like a complete fool! And his quick escapes were a thing of the past since every time he tried to run away he’d trip over his large size 15 feet. The last time he tried to flee from a failed flirt he knocked over two waiters and spilled 3 drinks over the person he was talking to. He needed some help. 

His friends did their best to console him, but even they had difficulty finding a clear solution. 

“Come on dude, you’ve got to stop biting your nails!” Beth, his best friend since college said after another night of failed flirting.

“I’m sorry Beth!” Maxwell whined in his new voice. Previously that expression was met with more nasally tones, but now even his wines made such flirtatious sounds when it came out of his new deep voice. “I just can’t stop thinking about that couple that asked if I wanted to join them tonight. The guy was soooo hot! He was like some kind of bodybuilder! And the girl! She could’ve been a super model. And i just froze and ran away!”

“It’s ok. I know that you want to pursue a relationship post shift. There’s no shame in striking out. Lots of people are having a hard time finding love.” Beth chimed in trying to comfort her friend.

“Easy for you to say. You and your fiance got Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth’s bodies! And you’re still together!” Maxwell complained, burying his head in his pillow, still shirtless and showing off his impressive arms.

“I… I admit. We did get lucky. I know all our friends love Marvel, and my fiance and I are mega nerds… and the role play in the bedroom is fun and-”

“Beth!”

“Sorry! I just mean, that nothing is hopeless.  You’ll find what you’re looking for soon. And hey, if it helps you can try flirting with me and Erin tonight.” Beth offered.

Maxwell blushed… and then slowly nodded. Maybe flirting with two of his biggest celebrity crushes would solve his issue after all.