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#and sometimes we have to say them ourselves in our own words

yellowocaballero · 10 months

Note

I just finished your New Wave fic. I’m convinced everything your write is gold. I loved your TMA fics, with the most heartbreaking demon AU imaginable and the hilarity of Fahrenheit 101. I loved your moon knight fics, starting with Steven talking to animals on the reg at work to the system growing closer with a focus on Jake, i- there’s- it’s sooo much packed into it. When I’m on burnout, of art or writing (maybe life in general at times) I revisit your work and am thrown back into a creative headspace.

You are my favorite writer, you cram so much meaning and thought into your work and it shows. The characters are dumbasses and say the most ridiculous shit and turn around the next chapter and say the most thought provoking thing, and I don’t get whiplash from it because these characters just work! They just do, and I… am very much off track!

Anyways I just got into Batman and reading your fic is fueling that flame! I can’t wait to see what you have in store next, and I shall now stalk your blog for writing tips! I hope you have a nice day broski 💙

Thank you!! This is so sweet thank you so much! This ask is so nice!

Trust me, if there's meaning then it's because I get obsessive over these fics and I massively overthink them. I honestly wish I was better at making simpler, more elegant stories. I feel like nothing I do is truly going to be good until I can find that simplicity.

"Dipshit who says stupid stuff and then turns around and spouts ridiculous philosophy" is just how I talk. But I habitually approach my life from a standpoint of finding humor in everything, if only to soften the blow. I was once told that it's really hard to tell when I'm joking, because everything I say is always half-joking and always half-serious. I feel like that's pretty evident from my narration too...

As for writing advice...um, I was just speaking about this with somebody. When you're plotting a story, the first thing I like to figure out is what I'm trying to say. Everything else should be built around that. The joy of writing is that I think we all have something we want to say, or something we want people to know, or that we have an aspect of ourselves and our lives that we want to express. Most of the time, trying to convey those things verbally just results in a frustrating approximation of your true feelings. I find that when I manage a successful story, the depth and scale of what I'm trying to impart is fully understood and felt. It's rewarding. I think if people aren't understood on some level, by somebody, they kind of die.

Thanks for the sweet ask!!

#dungeon meshi is the peak of storytelling and im not joking #my asks #my writing #(my writing tag is a good place to find my dumb essays!)#i dont consider myself a creative and i barely consider myself a writer #so i professionally have no fucking opinions on art or whatever #also im not sure you can call what i do art in like any meaningful way #but i know a lot of musicians and everything #and so much art is just a person trying to convey something that can't be conveyed through words alone #so much stuff is lost in translation between our brains and our mouths - its like translating english to a foreign language #the meaning can be conveyed but inherently it'll never capture the original meaning exactly in every way #i think art can help you achieve a more perfect translation more than anything else can #you just have to feel like that poor schmuck in j alfred prufrock all the time #'that's not what i meant at all; that is not it - not at all'#JASLKDF sorry for the pretentious tags and also pretentious essay #all i do is write fanfic i dont know shit about this tbh #i just think that idk. there's things in this world that only we know #things that only we can say or understand #and sometimes we have to say them ourselves in our own words #sometimes ppl focus too hard on making their writing sound pretty or correct or 'good'#and they dont focus as much on how pretty writing is a tool to say what youre trying to say more effectively #idk! im sorry for quoting ts eliot some things can't be forgiven etc

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weirdmarioenemies · 2 months

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Name: Hot-Hot Rock Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder

You know something I love about the Mario series? Its tendency to use reduplication to put emphasis on certain words. You thought your average everyday mountain was tall? Well this is a Tall Tall Mountain. You've never seen docks quite this dire before! And it's not even just adjectives that get in on the fun! Rock Rock Mountain, Ice Ice Outpost, I love that something can be more "rock" or "ice" than something else. Sometimes a word is so nice, you just wanna say it twice twice.

Hot-Hot Rocks are one of the latest additions to this long-running Mario trend, and also one of our latest Cubic Companions! You know, Blocks are very important to the Mario franchise, but how many enemies can you think of that are blocks...? The answer should be a lot. This was a Mod Hooligon Trick and you may or may not have fallen for it. I can't tell unless you tell me, alright?

Hot-Hot Rocks first appear in the level Hot-Hot Hot! (this is an example of a linguistic phenomenon known as "threeduplication"), where they serve as one of the primary obstacles. As long as Hot-Hot Rocks are Not-Hot, you can stand on them like any other platform. But when they start glowing red, you better get out of the kitchen, because Mario and friends can't stand the heat!

Of course, a little water is all it takes to turn Hot-Hot Rocks into Not-Hot Rocks for good, so spray them with Elephant Mario's trunk or a precariously placed pot of water, and they won't be able to hurt you anymore!

Hot-Hot Rocks have a symbiotic relationship with another new enemy called Kerpop, which will probably get its own post someday, likely courtesy of Mod Chikako. These guys act like Goombas most of the time, but when they touch a hot Hot-Hot Rock, they will pop and begin jumping around! How cute! This attention to detail is what makes Super Mario Bros. Wonder truly special.

That's about all there is to Hot-Hot Rocks, but we're not quite done yet, because this post is about to get all philisolophical(sic)! Because as Weird Mario Enemies, an important part of that title-we-love-to-defy-and-love-bringing-up-how-much-we-love-to-defy-it is knowing what an "enemy" is to begin with. And so we must ask ourselves: what is an enemy? What separates an enemy from an obstacle? And is there even a meaningful difference...?

I can't say I can give you an answer. But I can give you a bunch of thought exercises under the cut! You like those, right?

You do like those! Thanks for looking under the cut, I really appreciate it.

So if we want to have a discussion of what counts as an "enemy" in the context of a video game, we should probably have a rough definition of what we think an "enemy" is in the first place. It's tough to look for edge cases of something that doesn't have any edges.

I personally think a good starting definition is along the lines of "a character designed with the intent of hurting the player," or something roughly like that. And now that we have a definition, we can scrutinize the hell out of it!

On the left we have Thwomp. Thwomp is a classic Mario Enemy. The kind you'd see featured on @regularmarioenemies. We invite Thwomp over for dinner every Sunday, and Thwomp always smashes the dinner table because that's just what Thwomp does. On the right we have Karamenbo. Karamenbo does the exact same thing that Thwomp does, but it doesn't have a face! And despite the fact they act the exact same way, this simple design difference leads to most people considering Thwomp an "enemy" and Karamenbo an "obstacle"!

Is the difference between an enemy and an obstacle really something so simple as having a face? And if so...

What do we make of Lava Bubble, another Classic Mario Enemy that only sometimes has a face? Are they only an enemy when they have a face? Or are they allowed to always be enemies in spite of their occasional facelessness? Or alternatively, are they prohibited from being enemies despite their occasional befacedness? I don't know, and my "the fact I am writing for this blog" tells me I should probably be an expert in this field!

And what about Moonsnake? What could easily be dismissed as a simple obstacle like a Spike Bar is revealed by in-game text to be a living creature! Does this allow it to be classified as an enemy instead? Does something become an enemy just because there's text saying it's alive? Do ghosts and robots count as alive? Is a thorny flower an enemy instead of an obstacle, or does the specific choice of the word "creature" make a meaningful distinction here?

What if I told you there's official text calling Karamenbo a type of Thwomp, does that change your perception of it?

And we haven't even started touching on the idea of whether or not enemies need to hurt you. Let me ask you an important question...

Are Hoppos enemies? They can not hurt you. Whenever you touch them, you just bounce off, and sure, you might be bounced into something that can hurt you, but Hoppo is just an animal. Is it really Hoppo's fault? Could Hoppo be charged with manslaughter for bouncing Mario into a bottomless pit? Are bottomless pits a type of enemy?

Flomps, Bomps, these can not hurt you directly, but they can cause you to get hurt! And they're relatives of Thwomp, too! Do these factors matter in defining them as an enemy? Bomps act basically the same as the Push-Blocks from Super Mario Odyssey, and the wiki classifies those as mere platforms!

Is mayonnaise an enemy? I don't even know anymore!

Basically, enemies are a subclass of obstacle but there's not really a meaningful distinction that separates them. Literally the only thing that separates an enemy from an obstacle is the Vibes. Nothing else matters! Sorry! But what does that mean for our blog...?

Absolutely nothing! As I've said multiple times, we stopped caring about that distinction ages ago. We're hardly even a Mario blog anymore! I just wanted to subject you to my ramblings because I've had this in the back of my mind for a while now and well I had to say it somewhere.

And since I subjected you to several paragraphs of ramblings that amount to basically nothing... am I an enemy...?

#hot-hot rock #super mario bros wonder #mario #mario enemies #mario obstacles?#mod hooligon

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nightmarist · 6 months

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Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

#zevlor #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #act 1 spoilers #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #this man reeks of self loathing i want to bathe him in love and comfort #i also want him carnally #act 3 spoilers #bg3 meta

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neteyamswifee · 1 year

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ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ; ᴀᴏ‘ɴᴜɴɢ xᴏᴍᴀᴛɪᴋᴀʏᴀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: You and Ao‘nung are on your way to collect special fruits for an Assembly of the Mitkayina Clan, but things are getting weird and… hot?

Warnings; Fluff, Kissing, sexual …talk? Enemies to Lovers, mentions of death (hate that) lol thats it enjoy

_________________________________________

"Aonung wait." I hissed, kicking some leaves out of the way. Below me the wet grass between my toes. We must have been walking for almost an hour now and the bag in which I was collecting the fruit for the Metkayina assembly almost overflowed. "What's the matter? Can't you keep up?" Ao'nung taunts and swings over a tree trunk closely followed by me, who somehow struggles over it.

I was sure we'd had enough and all this fuss was just to annoy me. After all, I was allowed to carry the heavy bag, although he always talked about how strong he was. Idiot. With ease he pushed some branches to the side which then almost killed me. I was angry and I wanted to push him off a cliff. After I had overcome the last dangers that Ao'nung had exposed me to, we entered a sandy beach. Almost a bay I would say. The waves hit the rocks and far behind I recognized the spot where our ilus were waiting for us.

"You're kidding me, aren't you? We could have just come here straight away, then we would have saved ourselves the difficult journey." I snapped spitefully. Me and Ao'nung have always had our...differences. In the beginning he was really likeable to me, until he became an absolute ass. After Neteyam's death he dropped this whole macho scam and I was free from him insulting me everyday but I'm still being screwed 24/7 until I can't anymore. Fine, from time to time I'll take revenge and sometimes it's even funny. Still, I can hardly judge Ao'nung at all.

"Don't get so upset, the way is the goal." he laughs and sets off into the bushes to pick whatever I'm allowed to carry anyway in the end. Rolling my eyes, I put the bag down and stretch. A moment later, Ao'nung comes back out of the bushes. He walks over to me at the end of the beach and holds out a pink prickly fruit. I look at them both skeptically and raise an eyebrow.

"Thanks, but I'm poisoning myself." I decline with a grin. But Ao'nung doesn't let go of me, pulls out his knife, cuts off a piece and puts it in his mouth. "Something of poisoned." he whispers, dramatically holding his stomach. I suppress my laughter and just roll my eyes. Again he cuts off a piece and puts it in front of my mouth. "here." I try to reach for it but he pulls his hand away. "I thought you wanted me to try?" I ask. "Yes-but not that you hurt yourself." Only now do I recognize the barbs on the shell. However, he doesn't seem to mind. "bite off."

Somehow I don't really feel comfortable with it, but I bit it off and felt his cold fingers. Juice dripped from my chin, which Ao'nung brushed away with a gentle movement, and then licks his finger. I freeze, barely able to breathe. I was beyond confused, and somehow, …suprised."

" swallow." he breathes softly and raises his eyebrows. My head is a red room full of panic signs that glow brighter than neon lights. "wa-what" I bring out with my mouth full. "I said swallow." I get goosebumps. At no point did I think that Ao'nung's words could provoke a reaction of this kind, but I press my legs together and swallow the sweet fruit. Ao'nung eyes wander up and down my body, knowing what that just was. Funny, I would also like to know that. I swallow again.

"Do not look at me like that." I command him. "How am I looking at you?" smiling, he takes a step towards me, his eyes look deep into mine. "N- well the way you're looking at me. Stop that." "I can not." he blurts out.

Fuck. I think to myself, undecided whether I should just kiss him or run away. Then being confused because of my own thoughts. Ao'nung was all flirtation... just not usually with me. "You know, then just turn around or-" I keep getting quiet until my air to breathe is replaced by Ao'nung's lips. While I still hold my hands in the air in surprise, Ao'nung throws away the knife in his hand and grabs my waist. I reflexively wrap my hands around his neck.

The moment he lays me down on the sand, I forget all my principles and pull him down to me. I feel the cold sand beneath me, Ao'nung hands in my hair. I pull away from him, breathing heavily.

He just grins, with those cute dimples and his perfect eyes. "okay that was… quick." I gasp, trying to cover my nervousness with a laugh that only makes it more obvious. "fast?" he asks, looking at the air thinking. "Well, this is the first time you've let me get closer than a foot without hitting me, you're actually pretty slow today." embarrassed, I put my hand in front of my face. His confident flirting makes me more than nervous. "Don't talk such nonsense, there were at least a two." He licks his lips and presses another kiss on my lips. "You could hit me right now and I'd still want you, not gonna lie."I clench my teeth tightly and still roll my eyes in shock at what just happened.

———————————-

Send in what you want me to write:)

#avatar smut #avatar kiri #avatar neteyam #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar jake #avatar ao‘nung #Jake sully #neytiri #aonung x reader #aonung #tuktirey #way of water #Lol idk im just trying to safe you needy people from getting no Avatar smut

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dumbasswithapen · 3 months

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can we just listen to Disabled people when they say what accommodations they need??? Like it really isn’t that hard to just take someone’s word on what is best for their own body! Whether it’s more or less or different than what you deem they need it really isn’t your place to say!!!

Sometimes, people need more than they show! Especially if they’re used to being in pain all the time, then they won’t always display that discomfort.

Sometimes the accommodations someone needs are different than what you assume. A friend who struggles with noise sensitivity may ask for you to turn on a different type of music, instead of turning it down, and if that is what they express they need you don’t have to say “oh no I can just turn it down!” and ignore them saying that that isn’t necessary because your idea of noise sensitivity is different than their own experiences and needs.

And sometimes people need less than you try to provide! Or simply don’t want that accommodation at the time! And here’s the crazy part: this applies even if what they say to do could hurt them. Obviously this isn’t a rule for every situation*, but for some it absolutely is. If your friend wants to tag along for, say, a hike, and they have joint pain it isn’t your place to add in “oh no but they can’t do [the hike]! They’ll be in pain! We have to do something else to accommodate them!” If that person expressed a desire to go, especially if offered other options prior that wouldn’t hurt them, let them live. Let them do the thing that puts them in pain, because Disabled people don’t always want to be shoved into a little box of safety. Absolutely sometimes they do, and some might always want to, but if they don’t, then let them make their own choices for their body. Just as anyone else does. You go out and get drunk, even if it gives you a hangover. You go skating even if you’re shit at it and scratch up your knees a bunch. Just because someone is Disabled doesn’t mean that they can’t do the same thing and do that fun thing that hurts them.

I don’t know if I’m displaying my point how I want, so here’s my own example: I am allergic to the cold. Anything below 60 degrees (f) I get hives. Any water cooler than a fucking warm shower I get hives. My joints don’t do great when it’s cold out. This does not mean that when I say I want to go swimming, you can say “oh but you can’t you’ll get hives!” Or “no you can’t do that you’ll be in pain!” Because. I know that. I know that. I know my Disability better than anyone else can, and I can ask for accommodations I need. I am not a child to be wrapped in bubble wrap so I don’t get hurt. My body is my body and I can do with it what I want, and face the consequences. Likewise, just because I said I wanted to go swimming doesn’t mean that when I don’t want to go out and muck around in the snow it is anyone’s right to say “oh but you wanted to swim earlier, so obviously it isn’t that bad for you!” Or “oh it’s fine it’s not that cold! Just wear a sweater!” Because at that time I need and want different accommodations and that should be listened to and considered accordingly, as far as it can be in that situation.

Seriously. Just listen to us. We are in our own bodies. We know ourselves. It really isn’t that hard

*a situation where this point would be null is, for example, a situation where the person has been peer pressured into doing something, or one where you know the person well and know that the endurance of pain is a self-harming behavior

#disability #disabled #information #shi rambles #ableism #accommodation #cold urticaria #chronic pain #Like I get that my mom wants the best for me but I really know myself #If I avoided getting hives I’d be avoiding swimming at all. I’d not be having cold drinks or foods. I’d be not going outside #Even if I’m complaining about being in pain it doesnt mean that I don’t want to do the thing. It just means I don’t want to be in pain.#I know that won’t change but it’s not the change that matters it’s the expression of it #idk #actually disabled #ugh I don’t like wiriting that i feel like a fraud cuz im not disabled “enough”#It’s so fucking stupid I hate my brain

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theambitiouswoman · 9 months

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SELF TALK. Replacing the NEGATIVE things we say to ourselves with POSITIVE words 🦄💜✨✨

When we say bad things about ourselves, our minds and bodies pay attention and start believing those things. It's like a cycle. When we keep telling ourselves we're not good enough or can't do things, our minds start thinking it's true. These bad thoughts can make us act in ways that match what we believe, like avoiding things because we think we'll fail. Over time, our brain gets used to these thoughts and they become a regular part of how we see ourselves.

But if we say good things to ourselves, it can be really helpful. When we're kind in how we talk to ourselves, it can make us feel better and stronger. It's like giving ourselves a little boost of confidence. When we're positive, we can handle problems better and feel less stressed. When we believe good things about ourselves, we might do better in different situations. So it's important to notice how we talk to ourselves and try to say nice things, even if we don't always feel that way.

Negative: "I always mess things up." Positive: "I sometimes make mistakes, but I also learn from them."

Negative: "I'm so stupid." Positive: "I'm smart and capable; everyone makes errors."

Negative: "I can't do this; it's too hard." Positive: "I can handle challenges with effort and perseverance."

Negative: "I'll never succeed in anything." Positive: "I have the potential to achieve my goals through hard work."

Negative: "Nobody likes me." Positive: "I have people who care about me and value my company."

Negative: "I'm a failure." Positive: "I've achieved many things and will continue to grow."

Negative: "I'm not good enough." Positive: "I am enough just as I am, and I'm constantly improving."

Negative: "I'm a burden to others." Positive: "My presence and contributions make a positive impact."

Negative: "I always mess up social situations." Positive: "I can connect with others and enjoy social interactions."

Negative: "I'll never get over this." Positive: "I can heal and move forward from difficult situations."

Negative: "I'm so ugly." Positive: "I am unique and have qualities that make me attractive."

Negative: "I'll never be as good as them." Positive: "I have my own strengths and talents that are valuable."

Negative: "I'm a loser." Positive: "I have the courage to try and the ability to succeed."

Negative: "I'm always so awkward." Positive: "I am learning and growing in social interactions."

Negative: "I can't handle criticism." Positive: "I can learn from feedback and use it to improve."

Negative: "I'm too lazy to accomplish anything." Positive: "I have the energy and determination to achieve my goals."

Negative: "I'll never be happy." Positive: "I can find joy and contentment in the little things."

Negative: "I'm a failure as a parent/friend/partner." Positive: "I care and do my best to support those around me."

Negative: "I'm too old/young to do that." Positive: "Age doesn't define my ability to pursue my passions."

Negative: "I don't deserve good things." Positive: "I am worthy of happiness, success, and positive experiences."

Negative: "I'm a failure because I haven't achieved enough." Positive: "I'm on my own path of growth and accomplishments."

Negative: "I can't handle stress." Positive: "I am resilient and can manage stress with effective strategies."

Negative: "I'll never be as talented as others." Positive: "I have unique talents that make me special."

Negative: "I'm so clumsy." Positive: "I am improving my coordination and skills."

Negative: "I'm too shy to make friends." Positive: "I have qualities that others appreciate and I can connect with people."

Negative: "I'm not good at anything." Positive: "I have strengths and abilities that I can develop."

Negative: "I'm a burden on my family." Positive: "My family supports me and we help each other."

Negative: "I'll probably fail, so why bother trying?" Positive: "I have the courage to take on challenges and learn from them."

Negative: "I can't trust anyone; people always let me down." Positive: "I can build meaningful and trustworthy relationships."

Negative: "I'll never find love." Positive: "I am deserving of love and can create meaningful connections."

Negative: "I'm not creative at all." Positive: "I can express my creativity in different ways."

Negative: "I'll never be able to speak in public." Positive: "I can develop my public speaking skills with practice."

Negative: "I don't deserve success." Positive: "I am capable of achieving success through hard work."

Negative: "I'm so disorganized." Positive: "I can improve my organization skills with time."

Negative: "I'll never be happy with my body." Positive: "I can make healthy choices and appreciate my body."

#self talk #self development #self esteem #self worth #self help #self improvement #self love #personal improvement #personal growth #personal development #positive mindset #think positive #positive quotes #affirmations #law of manifestation #how to manifest #manifesation

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deargodhelpmeaaa · 4 months

Text

Evidence that Krerdly will/could in fact become canon

So usually when I ship something Im like yea this is not going to be in the actual thing but I always see other people all like "PLEASE LET THIS BE IN THE ACTUAL THING" and I genuinely can't tell if they're joking or not like do we actually care that much are we stupid do we need mental help

Anyway here's my evidence as to why it will (could) be(come) canon because fuck you.

Berdly saying he has a crush on Susie is extremely unreliable, as he just kind of randomly decides he has one out of the blue and it's obvious she doesn't like him back and he's stupid very smart and terrible great at reading the room and therefore thinks she does anyway.

the following dialogue is after the queen battle:

(some trivia: dextrose refers to a type of sugar, I think our little boy was trying to sound clever with a big word and didn't use it right, or he meant to say "dexterous" which he would ALSO be using wrong btw, as it means "clever" and right now he wants to be stupid which makes him calling them clever out of character. )

There's his first lot of dialogue. Then interact with him again and he says this shit

His reasoning?

There's a lot to unpack here.

Berdly tells Kris he must turn them down because he thinks he likes Susie and is under the assumption that she likes him back. Nowhere is it implied that he is not actually interested in Kris; it is only indicated that right at this moment Berdly's sights are set on Susie because there are things about her that he really admires, and so his interest is set on her. Notice how he refers to his life as a VN. That means visual novel. He sees himself as a man amongst a variety of love interests, and believes he can only choose one, as is the case with a typical visual novel, which indicates that Berdly thinks he is monogamous (I say "thinks" due to the popular theory that he might not truly desire romance at all and just claims to since that is what he currently equates any form of intimacy to). Among the people he has marked as love interests are Susie and Kris, and so therefore he is not necessarily uninterested in Kris. He sees them as a potential match, but they are not the one he's focused on.

He says Kris is being insistent about something. While this could be him misinterpreting them showing concern for him for romantic affection, as he does have this weird fixation on romance, this line of dialogue is actually really weird for a variety of reasons if we really look at it.

He says that Kris is being "insistent" on something, and that he "must turn them down." While it is easy to assume interacting with him caused Berdly to think that showing him additional concern by talking to him means you like him romantically, you must also consider the fact that throughout the game Kris is implied to say things on their own, but we ourselves never actually get to see what they are saying. Take for example here:

I'm certain this is the case with non cutscene moments, too, where you interact with NPCs and stuff. I can only really think off the top of my head to how even when u interact with one of the swords in ur inventory Noelle tells you to stop hitting you with it, and also there are times where Kris is moving on their own despite the soul not having wandered off like in the offscreen Ralsei dialogues, plus there's Kris removing their soul sometimes which always follows us controlling them... essentially they DO still have some control over themselves even when we are controlling THEM and they can still talk on their own, which I don't see how that doesn't include interacting with NPCs outside of battle or cutscenes. I just am too lazy to open the game up again and scour it for more NPC's responding to something we didn't hear Kris say, so instead I gave you an elaborate explanation of how Kris works and it works just as well so fuck you. But feel free to look for examples of NPC's outside of battle or cutscenes responding to something Kris probably said anyway and rb this with your findings that would be great.

Back to Berdly turning Kris down. Both of Berdly's dialogues are in response to something. This second line in particular looks really suspect, and makes me believe Kris may have actually done something overt in order to cause Berdly's focus to shift towards romance, and the reason Ralsei never says anything about it is so we don't notice that our character acted on their own- as he is definitely judging them for saying that LOL. I just don't see how it makes sense for him to just say that unprompted (granted, he is a weirdo, but in a cute innocent sort of way, and not the perverted incel freak some fans make him out to be but); it just feels to overtly a reply to something said to him than it does to him SIMPLY being interacted with.

Counterargument for this second point now: it's very possible that when we interact with Berdly, Kris did something to just comfort him, like put their hand on his shoulder or something like that, and them doing it more than once causes Berdly to mistaken the gesture for a romantic advance, and I was just over analyzing it because I ship them and I relate to Berdly which means I'm a nerdy idiot genius just like him. This still does not negate point number one, though.

3. Berdly is not disgusted by the prospect of romance with Kris. His reasoning for turning them down is because he's focused on Susie; nowhere is it said that it is due to their gender or appearance or anything like that at all. I assumed he was doing some hetero-normative thing with how Noelle and Susie are both girls and he's a boy but Kris lacking a gender and him not being like "eww no" to them indicates to me that he wouldn't necessarily mind something queer going on.

I want to look at the visual novel thing some more because I've honest to god never seen anyone else talk about it.

I think that he sees Kris, Susie and Noelle as potential partners. He's not interested in Noelle himself and says that he only pretends to be because he thinks she is. It's obvious he thinks that if he were to not, she might leave him, as this romantic interest he thinks she has in him is what he believes is the reason why she even tolerates him in the first place. Were she to ask him out (she wouldn't; this is from his perspective), Berdly undoubtedly would say yes, even if it isn't really what he wants, because what he really wants is to keep her around since he literally relies on her for his studies. He confesses to not liking her in chapter 2 because he wants her to know that his sights are set on Susie and doesn't want that to break her heart.

Susie is a new one, as he suddenly finds himself admiring her and confuses this admiration for her for romantic affection. He is undoubtedly going to continue trying to pursue her until he is inevitably not only shut down but learns about her and Noelle.

Lastly, there's Kris, who, besides Noelle, is one of Berdly's only friends. While he is their rival, he does show a lot of affection for them throughout the game, even back in chapter 1. In the library he tells Kris that he was worried about them.

He also offers them a random discount on the overdue book just really randomly, which is so sweet of him honestly. There is a layer of pretentiousness, smugness, and condescending-ness throughout his dialogue in the library, which is just him trying to prove himself better than Kris.

youtube

It is implied/shown that he sees a lot of potential in them. He refers to Kris as the third smartest student in class, which, despite seeming like an insult at first, is still a bit of a compliment in its own way. Talking down to Kris is sort of a defense mechanism for him. I think this is displayed really well in the scene below:

He does, however, really care about Kris at the end of the day and it's clear he values them. I really want to bring up the scene where you give him the present. First, he doesn't even EXPECT you to be gifting him, and walks into the scene assuming you're not on his side, taking it personally when he sees you with Susie. Then, when you do give him the present, he's initially shocked, then genuinely really happy and appreciative of it, to the point that he kind of almost drops the snarky attitude. I also really want to note that he doesn't even say thank you. Like he doesn't even know how to react. Poor guy.

youtube

Throughout chapter 2, we see that the two of them have played video games together, that Berdly trusts Kris enough to want to do puzzles with them while he's struggling to do them alone in the mansion, and so yeah, it can be concluded that despite Berdly's attempts to push Kris away and prove himself as their superior, he does genuinely care about them a lot.

So, Krerdly.

Krerdly.

The only thing getting in the way right now is that Berdly is focused on Susie. Though he might think what happened was a dream in the pacifist route, he probably is going to be fixated on her both there and in the neutral route due to now assuming he has a crush on her and her liking him back; he doesn't realize that he's mistaking his admiration for and desire to get closer to her for a crush. What will kill this for him is when he finally gets to see her with Noelle and realizes neither of them liked him romantically. He'd probably then turn to Kris and ask them if they liked him, since they're the one other person on that list of love interests I just did. And regardless of whether or not you say yes, he'd still be left thinking about them a little bit, and start to seek intimacy with them since Susie and Noelle are now fixated on eachother, and Berdly thinks he needs romance so he's looking towards someone who could potentially bring him that as well: his close friend who is still single.

And then you can date him and yay Krerdly real.

That's my theory.

Goodnight.

#krerdly #kris deltarune #kris dreemur #kris dreemurr #berdly #analysis #deltarune #deltarune analysis #deltarune chapter 1 #deltarune chapter 2 #susie deltarune #krispy chicken #suselle #noelle holiday #ralsei #theory #speculation #shipping #Youtube

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thatasadbitch · 1 year

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𓇽༆𓇽I Want U𓇽༆𓇽

Neteyam Sully x Omatikayan oc/reader

Warning: light smut and Fluff, neteyam and reader are aged up

Wordcount: 1.8K

Charater: I use a name because it's easier for me to write but change it with yours or whatever you want, the character is female, daughter of two strong warriors of the Omatikaya clan, she herself is known for her dowry in battle.

( I accept requests if you have ideas I would love to hear them, I accept requests on Jake sully, Lo'Ak, neteyam, Kiri, Tsireya, aonung and Neytiri, all kinds of stories are welcome ;) write in private or in The comments 💙

and sorry for any grammatical errors but this is not my first language ♥♡

We had grown up in the Metkayina clan by now, I have a nice scar on my shoulder from the battle but I can say that I saved Nateyam from certain death.

Now I'm remembered as the strong warrior with the heart scar, I'm still not too used to the way of fighting of this water clan it doesn't come too natural to me even if according to Ronal and Tsireya I'm an excellent warrior also for this clan.

" how are you?" Tsireya asks gently looking at me from the water and leaning her elbows on the wooden bridge "Me? I don't know if I want to talk about it...Why don't we talk about you and Lo'Ak? Your love problems empty my mind" I say wallowing feet in the clear water next to her "ok...then it's pretty good apart from my mother doesn't agree too much on our relationship as always, she thinks Lo'Ak is reckless and that I should look for a serious man to mate with and marry" she snorts as she floats and looks at the sun kissing her skin " well I've been friends with the Sullies since I can remember and can confirm your mother's words Lo'Ak is reckless and reckless but he's a very good friend as well as I also think a great boyfriend, he's faithful, loyal and tremendously sweet and sensitive more than I want to admit and show" I say smiling softly to my friend "I don't know I wanted you know...to take the next step with him to connect, but my mother does not give me his blessing and not I feel like doing it behind her back I think she would kill me first and then the guilt "I look at her fake shocked" do you want to connect?! Know that after I want to know everything the first time is always crazy" I laugh and she splashes me with water giggling embarrassed " as if you two have never done " shrug " Neteyam and I joined our braids several times but we never we find ourselves too much in agreement on when to take the other step " she looks at me smiling " why don't we talk about you and Neteyam then ?" I roll my eyes and she giggles " I was going to kill him this morning about what Neteyam and I have different visions, he wants to recreate the stability of his family but I'm more of a solitary warrior than a mother of a family" I say throwing myself in the water with her "yes? " she giggles following me " I want to fight, it's my nature I was born for this I'm descended from generations of warriors but I know that sooner or later we should have children and I won't be able to be a warrior anymore like this... well I almost killed myself more than once i sometimes wonder why he chose me as his mate i'm so difficult and on the other hand i'm afraid to disappoint him i'm afraid i'm not worthy of neytiri as a yardstick she's crazy as a mother " she swims around me and laughs " but you want to take that step with him I can see it from your eyes, you two complement each other as Lo'ak and I complement each other, and if you want children you will do something else for a while, you will hunt and I could teach you something about a healer plus it doesn't mean that as soon as you do that you'll get pregnant you're 20 you have time for that you'll be a great mother because it's you you protected your own mate with your life you looked after Tuk and Kiri and thank God you kept an eye on Lo'Ak when or I can't, you're a bit grumpy it's true maybe you love being on your own, but believe me you would give your life for each of the people you care about and with them you change you are a mountain of sugar with them your eyes light up when you look after them to Tuk and when Nete shows you affection, you don't have to be Neytiri, you are you and clearly in everyone's eyes you will be a perfect mother and above all in Neteyam's eyes, he has chosen you as a mate because you are meant to be together and to be also parents together" I snort and go under the water " you know that taking care of isn't for me and yes I can't wait to do it with Nete and I thank you for those words I think they really help me these days, I love you Tsireya " I say with sign language hug her "Ali'iem you will think about it when it happens, continue with your normal life just take that step we all love you and we will be with you forever" we continue to swim and hunt together for a while and then I go back to the my tent with anc now the mind crowded with thoughts.

As I pull my wet hair back I see a red strand in my hair my eyes widen 'will this be a sign of Eywa?' "every day you are more and more beautiful you know that?" I feel Neteyam's delicate hand on my waist while his lips gently rest on my neck and I smile slightly " sorry if I was a bit stubborn and unreasonable with you earlier" I say, turning to look him in the eyes he smiles softly at me " we'll think about it if it happens right?" I smile back, infected by his , before giving me a kiss on the lips "sure" he replies "you know I think Tsireya and Lo'Ak will join for the first time it's a great thing for those two" he chuckles " it's an important step but Lo'Ak is completely crazy about Tsireya I knew he would get there and then she calms him down makes him think a little more and that's good for everyone" he giggles pulling his hair into a ponytail involuntarily showing me his muscles of his back tense, he turns his gaze catching mine passing over him "am I beautiful?" He asks teasing me "beautiful" I say giggling and he approaches me leaving me a few kisses on the corners of my mouth, I put my hands on his chest tracing the darkest signs with my fingers.

It's a moment that Neteyam hugs me more and finally he kisses me on the lips properly and I feel the need to connect with him " Nete..." I call him softly sighing Ali'iem ?" His pupils are wide and he looks at me softly but at the same time a shadow passes through his eyes, I gently stroke his face and I quickly reach his braid stroking it, he smiles and moves it to his shoulder holding it in his hand, I quickly do the same and bring my end closer to his connecting us, a moment of ecstasy that soon leads us to everything else, Neteyam rests his forehead on mine and squeezes my waist gently, I can feel he is holding back a lot he licks his lips, his breath is heavy and then he can't take it anymore and kisses my lips looking into my eyes "Nete let's do it..." I hiss through my teeth looking into his eyes "are you sure? " I nod letting him kiss me passionately, I have no more thoughts if not Neteyam.

He puts me on our 'bed' without ever detaching from me, our tails caress us and it's as if everything came from if we don't think too much concentrated on both our sensations and those of the other, I perceive his ecstasy, his love and his wish .

It doesn't take long that our intimacies are connected giving a feeling and sensations never experienced before, the slow but decisive movements of his pelvis make me feel an intense pressure in my lower abdomen, the deep and hoarse grunts of neteyam do nothing but increase this sensation that makes small noises of pure pleasure come out of my lips.

When his hands squeeze my thighs bringing them higher and resting them on his shoulders making me see the stars with a stronger push than the previous ones, my hands squeeze his back scratching him slightly.

The rhythm of his thrusts doesn't waver and I feel that feeling of pressure inside me about to burst "Nete...I..." I don't have time to say much because that pressure explodes completely making me scream nothing but his name which I he too says my name several times feeling my walls tighten around him, a feeling of burning heat floods me and then moments of silence where only the sound of our breaths makes noise in the air, I see him smiling above me looking at me with slightly tired eyes and a few drops of sweat on his forehead.

From a tender kiss on my leg before letting them both fall snugly around his slim waist, he kisses my lips multiple times before framing my entire face with soft comforting kisses, my legs still shaking.

We don't separate our braids nor our bodies but the guy above me switches positions letting me doze peacefully on his chest, while he watches me rest I hear the rumble of his purr on his chest which also starts mine letting him kiss his chest and her soft lips "hey…Ohe see ngenga and you are the best woman that could happen to me whatever happens I will always be with you" he says moving a strand of hair from my damp forehead, I smile at him tenderly "Ohe see ngenga too, and yes I think you won't get rid of me that easily either.” I rest my chin on his chest as I watch him already fantasizing about something I'll have the pleasure of discovering later.

𓇽༆𓇽

The next morning my legs were screaming in pain but this didn't relieve me of my duties, as always I met Tsireya taking a bath together " Ali'iem you are really slow this morning you won't take anything so" she will try again " Tsireya give me peace my legs they're screaming in pain "she whips her head towards me" you? You? Have you taken the step? You've mated tell me yes please I can't wait to see little puppies of the forest with your big emerald eyes " she takes my hands all too excited " yes yes we did but I don't know yet if I'm pregnant we'll just find out further on " she dives in and caresses my flat belly and I see her gesturing under the water a ' great mother make it a girl ' I giggle seeing her return to the surface " you are impossible you know ? Really embarrassing " she squirts me but whatever happens i can't keep a sincere smile off my face i have no more worries i just want to be with Neteyam forever " anyway me and Lo'ak bonded " i open my mouth in shock as she swims fast away from me“ COME HERE YOU MUST TELL ME EVERYTHING“.

#avatar x oc #avatar x reader #avatar #na’vi x reader #na’vi oc #na’vi #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam smut #tsireya #request #love u

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interstellarsystem · 4 months

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Experiences With Being Out as a System

So, our parents know we're a system. It's all good, they understand that when we suddenly speak like someone from London that it's just another guy taking the body for a spin real quick and that they don't need to question it too much.

The thing is... They don't know our names, or anything about us as individuals. We don't have enough open communication with them to actually discuss the inner-workings of the hundreds of little guys in our brain and who they are or what they like, but even if we did, it's not actually important to them. It almost seems like it's swept under the rug.

Our mother said that she doesn't get why she should have to know anyone else when we're all "us". We're all just a collective to her still, a bunch of bits that make up her child, even though she knows we're separate. Her child, the original, isn't here anymore. But the thing is.. some of us want to get to know her and the family individually. Even beyond just being seen as who we actually are, we want to be a part of it aside from being treated as someone who is gone. But it's not a thing they understand despite our explanations of what it means to us, even despite the fact they know the original is dormant and has been for years.

The most anyone in our family knows about us is our mother, and she only knows anyone with a voice similar to Sark as "the american one". She doesn't know that there's even multiple who sound similar to him.

Technically, we're out as a system. Effectively, though... We're still closeted. Though not really because we're staying in it, moreso that we left but it follows us around like a shield within our own household, but it's not shielding us. It's shielding them from us.

Our experience with talking to medical professionals has been hard because of this--sharing bits about ourselves has been scary. It's scarier to show them pictures of our nonhuman headmates and say "that one is me", but it's never actually been bad when we've mustered up the strength to do it. One of them looked at Mal and saw his horns and said he looks like a faun from Greek mythology. Even though he's not, a positive response like that was empowering. That same one said Filigree's hair was cool. Little acknowledgements about who you are when you've tried to be seen before is great.

With our IRL friends, we expected the situation to be similar to our parents. Swept under the rug like a taboo and given weird, uncomfortable looks when spoken about. But it's been completely different.

We get asked who is fronting, we get acknowledged as separate people, hell, we even felt comfortable telling them about our actual fictive identities and letting the ones who wanted to follow this blog (hey guys if you're reading this <3) get access to it. They acknowledge our nonhumanity and nonhuman parts, share things about our sources with us because it reminded them of us, etc. Sometimes, now, because we've been open about it, we get people actually ask "is x fronting" and we say yes and they say "I knew it".

That specific feeling of being recognised even when your outward appearance doesn't change is absolutely amazing. Little manerisms, little ways our voice sounds even when masking accents out in public, even the words we choose to use are tells toward who is actually controlling the body and they pick up on it--even things we might not recognise we even do. Sure, there's hundreds of people in here and people won't know every single one off by heart, but the ones who are out here often are being recognised and that, to me, is amazing and validating to all of us.

I guess the point here is me sharing our experiences, but also.... You will be able to find people who see you for you. You as a system, you as a nonhuman, you as a disabled person, you as a queer person--you'll be able to find your people. And you know, I hope you do soon--because the feeling of being known is great.

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juiles · 11 months

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Why me?

Summary: y/n is Wanda and Natasha’s partner. After a misunderstanding and 3 months of pain, they finally break through.

Tags: angst and then fluff

Warnings: self harm, pain, fighting, kinda angsty Nat, insecure reader, intrusive thoughts, yelling.

A/N: here’s an angsty wandanat x reader fic that i’ve wanted to read for a while but can’t seem to find any with this plot so if you know of one let me know.

Masterlist here!

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Y/N pov

When i walked into the kitchen, I wasn’t expecting to see Natasha and Wanda wrapped up in each others arms, even though i should have, but i definitely was not expecting to hear Wanda utter the words that shattered my heart.

“You, and you alone, are my entire world and I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend…” She had muttered into Natasha’s neck, neither of them noticing me in the room giving me the chance to walk out in silence.

I should have expected that, the last few months they have slowly started separating themselves from me. Busying themselves in their work so much I never saw them anymore, anytime they weren’t busy, they seemed to find a way to ignore me and when they were around me they weren’t necessarily nice.

This interaction had given me that last needed push to finally give up. I pulled all my clothes into a bag and went back into my old room down the hall, haphazardly throwing the bag in the corner of my room. I felt a sob build up in my throat and with a quick lock of my door and telling Friday to sound proof my room and not let anyone in, i collapsed into a ball in my room and allowed myself to sob for 30 minutes before picking myself up and dusting myself off.

I decided then and there that I would push myself into my work. I wouldn’t let them ruin my life, at least not my life with the avengers.

It had been 3 months since that day, of course Natasha and Wanda hadn’t even noticed i had left or started avoiding them. None of the teams seemed to have noticed anything different about me which just pulled me further into my shell. I had a very simple routine, wake up at 4, train for 2 hours making sure to be in a private room. Grab something for breakfast if i was feeling it, which lately I hadn’t been. Be in the labs by 6:30 to start work. Skip lunch, working the whole day with my headphones on. I managed to avoid ground dinners a lot but sometimes i got sucked in, not like anyone even noticed if I was there or not.

Wanda’s POV

I guess Natasha and I hadn’t noticed how we had been distancing ourselves from y/n but in the last month or so I noticed how different things had been. Maybe we had been too caught up in our work or our lives but somehow y/n had managed to distance themselves from us even more. They had moved out from our shared room and we almost never saw them during the day.

“She’s probably just being petty that we have lives other than her.” Natasha said as we discussed what was going on. “They’re not being adult about this. They should have spoken to us rather than just leave.”

“I don’t think we ever gave them the chance Nat… we’ve been really distant… the day we we’re practicing what to say to them when we proposed… i think they heard us… i don’t think they realized it was about them… and up until then we had been finding ways to avoid them to not make the engagement noticeable.” I said, tears threatening to fall from my eyes. “We really messed up…”

We both looked up when we heard the kitchen door open and to both our surprise we saw y/n standing in the doorway. They had an unreadable look on their face before they quickly turned on their heel and stormed out of the room, towards their own room. My eyes widened and very quickly my body was racing after their own without a thought in my head.

Before I even got the door, it slammed in my face making me screech to a stop staring at the dark brown wood in front of me, tears now falling from my eyes. “Y/n… please open the door.” I all but whimpered before leaning back into Natasha’s arms who had followed behind me. “Please… we just want to talk…”

I heard a smash and a scream so loud it almost hurt my ears more than my heart. Another smash happened before Natasha made the decision to kick the door down revealing y/n in a very panicked state throwing items around their room. Glass and paper already scattered around the floor.

“FUCK OFF.” They screamed throwing a vase at my head, i barely dodged it, a small piece that shattered on the wall behind me, lodged into my arm making me gasp in pain. The gasp must have shaken them out of their frenzy as they stopped and slowly turned to face me, eyes drawn to the small amount of blood trickling down my arm. “Wanda… oh god… oh my god i am so sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Their head snapped up to look at me before they backed away, arms being held up defensively. “I’m sorry… please don’t hate me… please…” They pleaded staring at my eyes, a look of pure fear in their eyes.

“Detka… I would never-“

“DON’T. DON’T SAY THAT. ITS A LIE! YOU DID!” They screamed at me before going back to the fear and they cowered again when Natasha took a slow step forward, tears falling down her face.

“We never meant to hurt you… we swear… we love you more than anything… please… let us help you…” She finally made it to y/n’s trembling body and managed to pull them into her arms. “We want to help you…”

I kneeled in front of y/n’s sobbing form and held their hands as they sobbed and screamed into Natasha’s chest.

After what felt like hours, their sobs and screams disappeared into soft sniffles, their face still buried deep into her neck. That’s when I finally took a good look at them. They were shaking, their body looking very frail and skinny, as they pulled their face out of Nats neck, and I noticed the dark circles under the eyes, how pale they were, how lost their eyes are. “Oh detka…” I murmured cupping their face. All they did was stare at me. “I am SO sorry that we ever made you feel like we don’t love you… we love you so much it hurts. It hurts to know that we hurt you. It breaks our hearts because not once did we even step back to notice we were hurting you, that we were so engrossed in our plans that we failed to notice what we were doing to you.”

Their face contorted u to pain when i softly grabbed their wrist making me pull back their sleeve before they got the chance, my heart falling even further into my stomach. There on their wrist were bloody cuts scattered around. “Please let me clean these… baby they look infected. Even if you don’t want us around, i want to make sure you stay safe.” They glanced down at their own wrist before looking at Natasha before looking back at me and they nodded. I shot up and ran into the bathroom before coming back with the first aid kit.

“It will sting but you grip my arm as tightly as humanly possible, it will help.” Natasha murmured into their ear, they nodded staring down at their arm, their good hand gripping onto Nats. I started cleaning the wounds, y/n barely made a sound but I could see the pain in their eyes so i did it as fast as possible, wrapping them up before showering the bandages with kisses. “All better…”

“You… my… I’m sorry…” They muttered squeezing their eyes shut.

“No. No you don’t need to apologize. We do. For the rest of our lives we will be apologizing for ever causing you pain. You are our world y/n. The three of us against the world.” Natasha stopped them quickly holding them tighter. “Detka… you’re too skinny… have… have you not been eating?”

They tended up before I stroked their cheeks gently. “We’re not mad baby… but we need to know… we need to make sure your taken care of so let’s get some food in you baby…” They bit their lip and started shaking their head before Nat cleared her throat and they took a deep sigh before nodding gently.

Nat scooped them up into her arms bridal style and carried them down to the kitchen before placing them on her lap as she sat on a stool. “What do you want to eat detka…?”

It was silent for a moment before a small whisper was heard. “Wanda’s alfredo…?” Was hushed but my I couldn’t fight the smile growing in my face. “Of course baby.”

I instantly started flitting around the kitchen doing what was needed. It was silent for at least 10 minutes before they spoke again.

“I never wanted to upset you guys… before you stop me let me speak. I’m just so used to being used, hurt then dropped as if I’m garbage…” They’re eyes welled up slowly. “I just… i just needed to pull myself away before you could hurt me and I ended up hurting all of us… I’m sorry i didn’t talk to you guys before and assumed the worst…” My heart shattered even more. “I love you guys so much it made me want to go numb so I couldn’t get hurt again…”

“We love you baby… we love you so much and these last 3 months have been torture but it was our own fault.” Natasha said running her calloused hands through y/n’s hair. “We will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. Now eat so we can go snuggle in bed to sleep my love.”

Y/n stared at the bowl, their bottom lip wobbling. “I’m scared…” They whispered.

“Baby… me and you and Wanda are going to do this together. Understand?” They nodded with a small sniffle. “Now open up so you can eat.” They opened their mouth and slowly we made our way through the bowl.

After they ate, we made our way back upstairs to our bedroom and settled them in between us, pulling their bony body into ours. “Why me?”

“Because you are our world detka and no matter what we say or do nothing will ever be able to make up for what we did to you.”

Y/n sniffled before snuggling back down into us with a small content smile on their faces they fell asleep.

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bagopucks · 1 year

Text

J. Hughes - Home Alone

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Requested✨ - a while ago by somebody who wanted the Quinn fic of being home alone, but with Jack!

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s): Making out, handsy Jack. Other than that, just fluff. Oh! And the insinuation that Quinn has cooties.

—————————————

“Hurry up!” I gave Jack a gentle shove as I followed him up the steps of his own home.

We had gone out for lunch together, but Jack had invited me over after informing me his family was out for the evening. I pretended to ponder on that idea far longer than I needed to. The second he asked me to come over, I knew my answer was a yes.

“I’m moving! Oh my god. You’re worse than my dad!” Jack complained as he fished his front door key out of his pocket. He was swift to unlock it, and we both went tumbling inside one right after the other.

Jack and I both kicked our shoes off, leaving them in a heap on the floor as I shoved the door shut and locked it.

“It’s fucking freezing out there!” My arms flew around my shoulders, rubbing myself to warm up. Jack was busy shedding the heavy winter coat he didn’t think to offer. I couldn’t blame him. Sometimes he just didn’t think.

“We need something warm.” I spoke as Jack hung his coat on the rack and reached for my hand.

“Relax, relax. Hot chocolate?” He led me into the kitchen.

“Yes, please.” I glanced out the big widows in the dining room. I wondered how Jack’s family would get home from the city in a blizzard. I hoped they’d be fine. The heavy snowfall hadn’t begun yet, but it was supposed to within the hour.

Jack filled a tea kettle with water before he set it on the stovetop and turned the burner on. My eyes eventually returned to him as he approached. He wrapped his arms around my body, and I was quick to return the hug, my hands clasping together behind his back.

“You’re freezing.” Jack mumbled, I shot him a glare.

“Screw you, Hughes.” I mumbled as I turned and pulled away from him. Jack was swift to grab my wrist and pull me back against his chest. His arms now resting on my stomach. I sighed as his chin was placed on my shoulder. I reached behind myself to run my hand through his hair.

“Might be a nice way to warm up.” Jack’s words had been accompanied by his two hands drifting to squeeze my hips. I laughed softly at him.

“In your dreams, Buddy.” I pulled away again, this time escaping his grabby hands.

“I always dream about you.” He teased dramatically through a quiet laugh.

“You’re so weird.” I gave a gentle push to his shoulder.

“Yeah yeah.. I’ve been told that a few times.” Jack peeked back at the kettle.

“So how are you keeping me entertained, Hughes? What’s your grand plan?” I leaned back against the counter, and folded my arms across my chest.

Jack looked back at me and pursed his lips. It didn’t take him long to think of an answer.

“First we’re gonna make this hot chocolate. Then we’re gonna have to wait for it to cool off. So I was thinking we watch a movie? And after that, I say we sneak on down to the basement.” Despite how comfortable we had grown with one another, Jack still couldn’t be bothered to make eye contact with me when he was insinuating a little more than a little cuddling.

“Oh wow.. seems like a pretty good plan to me.” I reached out to gently grab his jaw, turning his head to face my own. “Might have to get a head start on that last one.” My other hand gently poked at his belly with my knuckles, pulling quiet giggles from the ticklish boy.

“Stop,” Jack was gentle when he pushed my hand away, ridding of one unwanted touch to focus on the one he did want. Which just so happened to be my lips against his own.

Jack’s hands settled on my hips while my arms wrapped around his shoulders. We lost ourselves fairly quickly in the mess of lips and tongues- and the occasional unnerving scrape of teeth. Considering we were both still learning the ropes.

When the tea kettle began to whistle, I gently moved my hands to Jack’s chest, pushing him off.

“I’ll be in on the couch. Yeah?” He nodded, and I slipped out of the kitchen to grab a few blankets.

Jack came in not long after, two mugs in hand and a bright smile on his lips.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked as he set the mugs down on the coffee table. He looked toward me as he grabbed the remote, and I watched his face screw up in displeasure.

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s Quinn’s blanket.” Jack reached out to pull the baby blue fuzzy blanket right off of me. He tossed it toward the love seat before he made his way across the room to the basket full of blankets. He dug through them before he pulled out a red one that was silk on one side and a patchwork texture on the other. An old gift from his grandmother.

“You’re so picky,” I teased as Jack walked back over and sat down on the couch. He unfolded the blanket and draped it over our legs.

“No, I just don’t want Quinn’s stuff all over you.”

“His stuff?”

“Ya know… his cooties?”

I had to turn away and clasp a hand over my mouth to muffle my inevitable laughter.

“Whatever.” He grumbled. “What do you wanna watch?”

I looked back at Jack before I directed my attention to the tv.

“Whatever you can find.”

What Jack did find, was Twilight. I’d seen them all. He had not. Jack wasn’t into the whole vampire thing, and I knew Ellen didn’t necessarily want her boys watching it anyway. Because if they liked one they’d have to watch them all, and she was not ready to knowingly let her kids watch the first Breaking Dawn movie. Quinn, yes. Jack and Luke? No.

But we were home alone, so Jack and I left it on anyway.

It got boring pretty quickly. A half an hour in, and we were already sipping on hot cocoa and giggling like idiots. At some point, Jack put his mug down and leaned closer to me. His hand rested on my thigh. I glanced up at him.

“As entertaining as this is-“

“Not.” I corrected.

“Yeah.. it’s really not.” Jack and I both laughed. “Maybe we can just skip the movie and take this party downstairs?”

I took another sip of my hot chocolate before I set it down next to his own.

“I think that can be arranged. Only if I get carried though.”

“Which way?”

I considered my options.

“Piggy back ride.” Jack was quick to spring up, holding his arms out for me while I stood on the couch and climbed onto his back.

“Ready?” Jack checked.

“Full speed ahead, Rowdy Airlines.”

I knew he hated his middle name, but I absolutely loved it.

Jack made sure he had a good grip on my legs before he went off down the hall, opening the basement door and asking me to pull it shut behind us before he walked down the steps.

The basement was nothing particularly fancy. A couch, a tv, mini fridge, and an empty area that Ellen once informed me used to be full of all the boys’ toys and kids hockey nets.

Jack stopped in front of the couch and let me down. I climbed off of his back and slipped my hand in his back pocket, stepping out of the way as I pulled him by his jeans, only removing my hand when he fell back into the couch.

“You want music, lover boy?” I teased.

“The stereo has some good stuff sometimes.”

I swiftly slipped off the couch and made my way over to the stereo by the tv. I turned it on, flipping through endless static before I found a station. Then it cut out.

“Jack, it’s all messed up.”

Jack got up and joined me by the stereo. Within seconds he had it back on. He adjusted the volume and gave me a pointed look.

“Can’t trust you with anything.” His words made me smile out of embarrassment. Jack’s hands slipped around my hips and pulled me in. Our eyes locked, expressions softening into admiration and adoration combined. Somewhere in the midst was a mutual feeling of want.

“You’re so cute.” I whispered as I leaned up onto my toes to connect our lips again.

This kiss didn’t last as long. We broke apart to find the couch again, falling onto it, our bodies turned to face one another, and our knees brought up onto the couch in an awkward way. I had a knee on top of Jack’s, and our other two were pressed together.

We were awkward teenagers. No other explanation needed.

Our lips locked not long after. Jack had a hand on my hip and the other on my cheek. My hands were busy at the nape of his neck, gently fidgeting with his hair.

Occasionally one of us would lean forward into the other, but hesitance and uncertainty kept us from pushing one or the other back to lay down. Breaks for air didn’t last long. As they never did with Jack.

It wasn’t until I decided to slip a hand beneath his shirt, that he pulled away to assess the situation.

“You don’t like that?” I asked breathlessly.

“No.. no it’s okay.”

“I’m gonna take it off.” I gave him a warning, and when he didn’t decline, I swiftly slipped his shirt off. It ended up on the floor somewhere.

Jack moved his hand, placing it on my wrist and slowly allowing his hand to travel the expanse of my arm until he found the collar of my shirt. He pulled it aside and leaned in again to kiss my neck. I chuckled softly. He started to shift onto his knees, and I wrapped my hand around his back. Starting to pull him into me. Myself leaning back, Jack moving forward. Starting to get somewhere-

“Jack! What the hell are you doing?”

We tore apart faster than a flash of lightning. Jack looked like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I peered over the top of the couch to see Quinn standing there with his hockey bag over his shoulder. All three sets of our eyes were huge.

“Quinn! Language!” I heard Ellen shout from upstairs.

“Quinn- Quinn please.” Jack slowly sunk to sit down, sliding off the couch and standing up.

“Mom!”

Sometimes I hated how petty these two could be. My face flushed, and I could only imagine how much more embarrassing it was about to get.

“What, honey?”

“Nothing!” Jack immediately shouted.

“Mom you have to-“

“It’s nothing!” Jack shouted over his brother more forcefully. Their disagreement beckoned Ellen to the top of the stairs.

“What is your guys’ problem?” She snapped.

“Jack’s sucking face with his girlfriend down here.”

I shot Quinn a dirty glare.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Jack’s doing what?” I heard Jim’s voice at the top of the stairs, and soon I heard his heavy steps descending.

“Getting his Love Shack on, apparently.” Quinn’s prideful smile made my glare ten times harder.

“Quintin, quit that.” Ellen scolded, though she sounded concerned.

“Jack.” Jim paused the second he made it to the bottom of the steps. He examined the crime scene. Somehow the music made it all the more humiliating.

“She just came over because of the storm-“

“I’m sure she did.” Jim shook his head in disapproval. “Do you have a ride home?” He directed his attention to me.

“I drove here, sir.” I had only ever called Jim sir the day we met.

“It’s fine.. really it’s fine.” Jim assured me. “I mean it’s not fine.. but Jim is- it’s not bad enough to not be called Jim.” His words confused both Hughes brothers, and myself. “We just- you should probably go home.” I slowly stood up. “Drive safe, yeah? I know you’re only a block away, but still.”

“Thank you.” I cast Jack a nervous glance before I slipped off toward the steps. I spared Quinn a harsh hit to the shoulder before I escaped up the stairs, offering Ellen an apologetic look.

Somehow I knew the making out wasn’t necessarily the issue. The Hughes’ were never that strict of a family. But I knew I broke a rule coming over when nobody was home.

“I’m sorry, Ellen.” She held a hand up and shook her head.

“It won’t happen again, I’m sure of it,” was all she said. She offered me a gentle smile. “Just promise me you’ll be patient with Jack while he’s grounded.” I managed a quiet chuckle.

“I can wait for him.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes #luke hughes

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bubblybloob · 3 months

Note

I dare you to draw smitten with either cold or the beast, you pick.

This is because I said I hadn’t gotten many asks for the Smitten, huh?

This might actually be a bit more Cold focused, long thing I wrote below.

There were fights, a lot of fights, actually. How could there not be? Eleven voices given form, only to be cramped back into one space. At least this time it was a house, not a body.

It wasn’t a bad thing, far from it; Hero wagers most were thankful for the permanent, familiar company, while the rest indifferent. Hero himself quite enjoys chatting or playing games with the others, it isn’t uncommon for him to seek out one of the voices simply so his stirring thoughts can have an outlet.

However, sometimes the others don’t click. Usually it was fine- Broken, Hunted and Contrarian seldom got physical. Opportunist and Paranoid might if they felt strongly enough about something to throw away their pretenses or fear, but they weren’t often the issue.

The rest tended to jump to bold accusations and wild conclusions, looked forward to it even. Skeptic occasionally found himself going from relatively mundane quarrels to all out brawls from causing accidental offense. Stubborn and Cheated had a tendency to get too excited about coming out on top in one way or another, and the other two…

Sometimes it felt like they only ever fought each other.

Okay, that was lie, Cold purposely ruffled the other’s feathers out of pure boredom. Hero wondered if he had made up some sort of challenge to see if he could get the non confrontational voices riled up for a fight, given how often he pushed their buttons. Once he flat out punched Contrarian in the face just to see if he’d retaliate.

If Cold couldn’t get them to crack he’d sigh with something akin to dejection and approach someone like Cheated, maybe Stubborn if he was feeling risky- pretty much anyone with a shorter fuse so he could get some form of thrill.

But they weren’t his go to, that would be- of course- Smitten.

“You vile, wretched thing! I won’t hear another word of nonsense out of you. Begone! Foul creature!”

“Call me all the names you like, you won’t get the response you’re looking for.”

It happened just about every other day: Cold would say something off putting, Smitten would respond with something that would offend anybody else, a bit of snarky back and forth later, and suddenly hands were being thrown.

“What are they arguing about this time?” Cheated grumbled, coming up to stand beside Hero, whose eyes were encircled by dark shadows.

“I ‘dunno, woke up to them yapping at each other, or at least Smitten’s yapping, I don’t think Cold has ever raised his voice.” Hero yawned out, scratching at his horn tuft.

“With how often those two are at each others throats, I think we should count ourselves lucky one is so soft spoken.” Cheated stretched his arms and body upwards, his wings instinctively snapping outwards and flapping as he tried to relieve his muscles. The large wings smacked Hero’s side as he did, which had the heroic voice stumbling backwards as Cheated mumbled a small “sorry” out.

“It’s fine. I think it’s less that he’s soft spoken and more that he’s sharp spoken. He talks like he knows where all your vitals are.” Hero responds, shivering at his own words.

Cheated shrugs. “Probably does, he’s our resident freak after all.”

“How is it then that you feel nothing? Without feeling one will rot away, yet you’re still here.” Seems Hero had missed part of drama during his and Cheated’s little chat. Smitten had now grabbed Cold by the chest feathers and was looking ready to tear into him.

“Who knows, really? Maybe I’m like a ghost, haunting the remains that our godly self expelled. Or maybe we simply can’t die, I haven’t eaten in a while.” Cold replies with a sharp whistle.

“Ooo, he shouldn’t be so candid about saying that out loud, never know when Hunted’s listening.” Cheated says behind a wicked smile. No doubt the avian had tucked the information away for blackmail, or to get a favor from Opportunist, who also found a new joy in digging up dirt on the others for his own benefit.

Hero was about to step in at this point. Smitten looked ready to let loose, and Cold seemed to be passively soaking in the drama of it all. But before Hero could open his mouth, Smitten’s hold relaxed, and his head hung low.

“No, I see through your tricks, scum. I will not loose myself to anger over frivolous things such as this. Leave, now, I must prepare myself for the morning time.” Smitten let’s go of Cold’s feathers, which were not bunched together and frayed. Cold hums something tired.

“Weak willed of you, can’t approach her killer?” Cold tilts his head.

A flinch. “I know what you’re doing, I won’t fall for it this time, villain!” Smitten whips around, and goes to walk from the conflict.

Cold’s wry smile falls flat on his face, he turns his head toward Cheated.

“Not today pal, Paranoid seemed extra twitchy though, probably didn’t get much sleep. It’s still early and he isn’t fully alert in his head, might be able to start something up with him if you push hard enough.” Cheated suggests. Hero punches him in the arm, just when he thought there would be no morning fight to put down.

Cold’s brow raises, evidently interested in a fight with someone who rarely raised his hands. He moves past the two, already on the prowl for their jumpiest member.

“Troop on, you emotionless fuck- ow, stop that!” Cheated yelps when Hero punches him again, this time a little harder.

Cheated’s words seemed to have stopped Smitten in his tracks however, he mutters something to himself, and whips back around. “You can’t be as dispassionate as you claim! You’re merely afraid of your own feelings!”

The accusation makes the Cold stop dead. His expression is hidden, but Hero swears he sees his feathers puff out. He expects them to quickly flatten back down.

But they don’t.

Cold slowly turns the upper half of his body, his face looks… almost strained. His composure had finally cracked.

“Hmm?” He darkly hums. It’s an oddly moderate response, given how Cold takes any and all opportunities to tease whomever he talks to, especially for outlandish claims such as this.

They were outlandish… weren’t they?

Hero had a bad feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t explain.

“I’m right.” Smitten looks a little surprised, before a damn near elated expression creeps onto his face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cold doesn’t respond, still half turned to leave. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t swayed in the past ten seconds. Hero wonders if he was still breathing.

“You aren’t unfeeling at all, are you? You’re full of emotion! What’s is it then that makes you push them under the deep, dark waves of the heart? Fear? Want? …Guilt? I can guess what it’s for.” Smitten continues with his theory, the Cold still hasn’t retaliated.

“Ooo, might be onto something there, Smitty.” Chester looks almost excited as he says this. His words seem to encourage Smitten further, who puffs up under the praise.

Cold stands there.

“Go on then, tell us the harsh truth, fiend. You’re no emotionless husk.” Smitten moves closer and closer to Cold’s position. Hero wonders if he should put himself between the two, but he can’t say he isn’t interested to where this is going.

Smitten stands face to face with his Cold counterpart. Hero swears Cold shrinks back under the close attention.

“You’re afraid.”

For a moment, they stand there, a stare down. Hero briefly hears the faint phantom sounds of glass breaking under the weight of godhood.

In a blink Cold draws his arm back, and his fist connects to Smitten cheek.

—

WoooOooO cliffhanger that might never keep going.

I’m unsure if this is common theory or whatnot, but I’ve not for a moment believed Cold was emotionless. I think he’s hurt by what’s happened to him, so much so that he thinks being emotionless, acting only to entertain will bring him some form of twisted comfort.

I think he’s too afraid to let himself feel, so he pushes his feelings far, far down, and pretends he feels nothing. He’s so good at it that he believes it to be true.

He’s so good at ignoring both physical and mental feeling that he himself believes he is nothing but a thrill seeker. In reality, his emotions, his physical needs, it all hurt him, so he squashes both.

Think about it, you usually get him by killing the princess in cold blood, and then subsequently stabbing yourself. Both hurt him. He only knows hurt from both, so he throws them aside.

#slay the princess #stp voices #voice of the smitten #voice of the cold #voice of the hero #voice of the cheated #art #my art #writng #asks #requests #too many goddamn tags #that’s what the fandom should be called

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natsaffection · 5 months

Text

Kingdom of Secrets | part I | N. Romanoff

Knight!Natasha x younger!princess!Reader

MINOR DNI!! (18+!)

warnings: age gap (Natasha is 34 and reader 22) spanking, forced Masturbationen, fingering, begging, strap on use (r receiving), rough sex, kinda possessive natasha

word count: 5,3k

A/n: Sorry for the Delay!

1 year later

In the quiet sanctuary of their chamber, the soft glow of the candles bathed Princess Y/n and Natasha in a warm embrace. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and the flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls. Wrapped in plush blankets, you lay next to Natasha, their fingers intertwined in a silent affirmation of the love that bound them.

Natasha's gentle touch traced circles on your skin, creating a rhythmic dance that mirrored the beating of their intertwined hearts. Her eyes met yours, and in the soft candlelight there was a deep affection in Natasha's gaze that went beyond the bounds of duty.

In the soft glow of candlelight, the room became a place of warmth and intimacy from you. Candles flickered and cast a shadow dance on the walls as Natasha, wrapped in the faintest hint of moonlight, snuggled close to you in the bed adorned with silken sheets.

Natasha's fingers traced delicate patterns on your skin, creating a symphony of sensations that echoed with the tender affection between them. The air was filled with the sweet scent of jasmine, an aromatic embrace that heightened your senses as the two of you shared the silence of the night.

"Natasha," you murmur, your voice a soft melody that harmonized with the flickering candles. "Have you ever imagined what life would be like outside these palace walls? Beyond the fields?"

Natasha's eyes, which looked like orbs of molten amber, met yours with a warmth that went beyond the flickering flames. "I have wandered vast realms, seen sunsets that tint the sky in colors you cannot fathom. And yet there is a certain..magic within these walls. Magic that I have learned to appreciate."

A wistful smile curled your lips as you intertwined your fingers with Natasha's. "Magic, huh? Is it the kind that makes my heart beat faster every time you're around?"

Natasha chuckled, a low, melodic sound that echoed through the chamber. "It's a kind of magic that exists in shared moments, a dance of hearts finding solace in the stillness of the night."

As her laughter mingled with the soft rustle of the curtains in the night breeze, your gaze softened. "You know, sometimes I wish we could escape expectations and just...Be."

Natasha's thumb traced patterns on your palm. "In the quiet moments, we are free to be ourselves, away from the burden of titles and duties."

The flickering candles cast a warm glow on Natasha's features as she continued, "Your laughter, Princess, is a beacon of joy. Within the shelter of these walls, we find a sanctuary where our hearts can speak truths untouched by the world."

Your eyes sparkled with a playful gleam. "Do you think the world out there would understand our truths?"

Natasha's gaze had a depth that reflected the starry night. "The world can be a complex web, my dear. Some may understand it, while others remain trapped in their perceptions. It is the journey of those who seek true connections to unravel the threads."

As you continue to recount the intricacies of palace life and your dreams, Natasha's keen senses picked up the muffled sounds of frantic footsteps and hushed voices from behind the door. Her eyes, normally a picture of calm, flickered with a subtle alertness.

"Nat...," you sigh again, and your eyes twinkled dreamily, "Do you ever think about what might be out there for us?"

Natasha's gaze lingered on the door for a moment before focusing on you again. "Always, my princess. The world is big, full of untold stories and unexplored territories. One day, you may write your own story beyond these walls."

Just as you were about to say something back, Natasha raised a hand, a sign for you to be silent. The distant echo of hurried footsteps and murmured conversation reached a crescendo, causing Natasha to rise from the bed with fluid grace.

"Natasha, what's wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern.

Natasha's eyes met yours, and a hint of worry softened her features. "There is unrest in the palace, my princess. It seems urgent. Prepare yourselves. I will be back soon."

As Natasha left the room, questions began to swirl in your head. The air felt charged with an unspoken tension, and the flickering candles cast dancing shadows that reflected the uncertainty in your heart. You dressed quickly, your fingers fumbling with the intricate fastenings of your royal robe.

When Natasha returned, her expression was a mixture of seriousness and readiness. "Y/n, the kingdom faces a challenge. Your presence is required among your family. I too have matters to attend to."

You nod, your eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What is going on? Why is the palace in such turmoil?"

Natasha's gaze lingered on yours, a silent confirmation of the weight of the unspoken. "I will tell you everything, but now go to your family. Your father will have the answers you seek."

as you, flanked by Natasha, approached your family. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows that seemed to reflect the uncertainty in the room.

King Alistair's eyes met yours, and with a subtle nod, he motioned for you to join him. There was a motherly concern in the Queen's eyes, but the King's stern expression indicated the seriousness of the situation. You frown, your curiosity accompanied by a growing unease.

Turning to her father, you looked to him for answers. "Father, what's going on? Why the secrecy?"

King Alistair's eyes carried a weight that went beyond words. He motioned for you to stand beside him and signaled the commander of the palace guard with a look to address the room.

Commander Alden stepped forward, his voice calm but carrying the weight of somber news. "My King, we have been ambushed. A gang infiltrated our defenses, and their attack was brutal. Several of our best soldiers were killed, and the Holy White Knights were dismembered."

There was an awkward silence in the room, broken only by the distant echo of the castle. Your eyes widened in shock, and your gaze instinctively sought Natasha's. The usually composed knight wore an expression of silent dismay. The weight of the tragedy hung heavy in the air.

"The attackers," he began with a heavy sigh, "used the blades with a viciousness that seemed to pierce the air. Severed limbs, mutilated bodies, the courtyard turned into a canvas of horror."

Your stomach churns at the vivid idea that the once vibrant palace courtyard was now tainted by the brutality that took place there. The metallic smell of blood, the agonized screams of fallen soldiers, and the lingering shadows of malice formed a grim tapestry that settled in your mind.

"Their faces were shrouded in darkness, their movements swift and merciless," the commander continued, sparing no details. "They showed no mercy and left an image that defies description."

Natasha kept her composure, but her eyes betrayed a flare of anger, a testament to the horrors she had experienced. The magpies, the guardians of the realm, ruffled their feathers, their collective presence a silent acknowledgement of the grim reality they faced.

As the commander recounted the calculated brutality, you felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness, and your mind could not escape the haunting images his words painted. The once pristine palace courtyard, where joyous celebrations had taken place, now witnessed the grotesque aftermath of a relentless attack.

"The attackers disappeared into the shadows, leaving a trail of despair in their wake," the commander concluded in a heavy, sad voice. "We managed to capture one of them, but he remains mute."

The king's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and determination. "Did you elicit any useful information from him?" he asked, his voice echoing around the room.

The commander hesitated for a moment before delivering the grim news. "Your Majesty, the prisoner has not spoken a single word. He seems to be wallowing in the darkness of his actions, heedless of the consequences."

There was a heavy silence in the room, broken only by the distant echo of grief. You cast a glance at Natasha, sensing an underlying tension in the knight's calm demeanor.

The king could no longer contain his anger and slammed his fist against the armrest of the throne. "Enough of this madness! If he won't talk, then let him face the consequences for his actions. Impose the death penalty!"

You sit there with a heavy heart, your eyes widened in horror as your father announced the decree of capital punishment. The magpies, the solemn guardians of the realm, moved uneasily, their feathers rustling in the oppressive silence. As the death sentence was announced, Natasha's eyes flickered briefly, betraying a flash of recognition. You sense that Natasha knew more than she wanted to admit, and a twinge of curiosity mingled with the sorrow that weighed heavily on her heart.

"B-But Father...isn't that..." The king's stern gaze met your tear-filled eyes, and his voice, though firm, carried the weight of a sad burden. "My precious daughter, this decision has not been made lightly. It is for your safety and the safety of the kingdom. We cannot allow such darkness to threaten our peace."

The words hung in the air like a mournful melody, a reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the palace. The commander of the guard, his shoulders heavy with the burden of the fallen, continued to recount the brutal details of the attack. The image of the palace grounds stained with the blood of loyal soldiers painted a gruesome picture of loss.

Natasha, standing beside you, maintained a stoic expression, but the slight tightening of her jaw betrayed the emotions simmering beneath the surface. You feel a trembling in your hands, an ache in your chest as the weight of the tragedy bore down on you.

As the king's decree echoed through the room, the magpies exchanged somber glances, their sad eyes reflecting the sorrow on your face. The cold reality of capital punishment hung in the air like a shroud, a stark reminder of the darkness that threatened your kingdom.

The announcement echoed through the kingdom, spreading like wildfire as news of the impending execution reached the ears of the citizens. The atmosphere in the city changed, a whisper of fear and uncertainty lingered in the air.

The inner courtyard, once a place of celebration, was now a sombre stage for the macabre spectacle that was to take place there. The citizens, drawn by morbid curiosity, gathered in silent groups, their faces a mixture of trepidation and curiosity.

The condemned man was bound and hooded and escorted to the center of the courtyard. The cold gleam of the executioner's blade mirrored the grim determination on the faces of the palace guards. Your heart, heavy with conflicting emotions, stood beside your father on the balcony and surveyed the scene.

The king, his voice carrying the weight of authority and sorrow, addressed the assembled crowd. "Citizens of Celestria, today we witness the consequences of treachery and darkness that seek to corrupt our kingdom. In the face of adversity, we must stand united and resolute."

As the king spoke, Natasha's gaze remained fixed on the hooded figure below her. You sensing Natasha's inner struggle, placed a comforting hand on her arm.

The hooded prisoner, a vessel of the shadowy group that had ravaged the palace, knelt in silence. The crowd, held captive by the gravity of the moment, watched as the executioner raised the gleaming blade, its metallic glint casting a ghostly reflection in their eyes.

The king's voice echoed through the courtyard, his words carrying the weight of justice and deterrence. "For the safety of our kingdom, for the lives lost and for the hope of a better future, let this be a symbol of our unwavering resolve."

In the eerie moments before the executioner's blade sank, the condemned man, his voice muffled by the hood covering his face, spoke cryptic words that sent shivers down the spines of those present. His last breath contained a grim promise, a dark prophecy that hung in the air like an unspoken curse.

"The spider will weave its web and devour the threads of your lineage," he whispered, his words echoing around the courtyard. The crowd, already gripped by the solemnity of the event, exchanged uneasy glances at the ominous announcement.

Standing next to your father on the balcony, you could feel a shiver creep down your spine. The cryptic message left an unsettling impression on your mind, and the implications of the prisoner's words cast an ominous shadow over the already gloomy atmosphere.

As the hooded figure's life came to an abrupt end, an oppressive silence reigned in the courtyard. The frightening words echoed in the minds of those present, leaving the unsettling feeling that the shadows once thought vanquished still clung stubbornly to the periphery of the kingdom's consciousness.

The lifeless form of the hooded figure slumped to the ground, a macabre sacrifice to the quest for freedom from the shadows that sought to devour Celestria.

There was a deep silence in the courtyard, the echo of the execution still lingering in the air. Your gaze remained fixed on the lifeless figure below you as you grappled with the harsh reality of the decision you had made to protect your kingdom.

Natasha's hand found its way to your shoulder, a silent gesture of support as they watched the aftermath of the execution. The crowd, now dispersing with a mixture of curiosity and unease, left the court in an eerie silence.

The king, his face marked with solemn seriousness, turned away from the balcony, leaving you to deal with the unsettling words that still lingered in the air. Natasha, sensing the turmoil within you, spoke in a voice tinged with understanding. "Don't let the echo of his words consume you."

You nodded, though the weight of the prisoner's prophecy lingered in the depths of your mind. The magpies perched nearby, their eyes twinkling with an otherworldly wisdom, seemed to take unspoken note of the ominous undertones.

As the palace guards left the courtyard, you and Natasha descended from the balcony. The flickering candles that had once illuminated her chamber now spread a softer light, creating a sanctuary within the walls that protected her from the harsh reality outside.

In the seclusion of their shared sanctuary, Natasha's gaze met yours with a depth that went beyond words. "These are difficult times, my princess. But remember, the strength of a kingdom lies not only in its walls, but also in the resilience of its people."

"What if... what if you teach me how to fight?"

Natasha blinked, thinking she had misheard, "Y/n, your place is not on the battlefield. You are the heir to the throne, and your safety comes first. Training to fight is not suitable for someone of your status."

But you persisted. "But.. I can't stand idly by while others fight to protect me! I want to be more than just a passive observer. I want to be able to defend myself, to defend my family."

Natasha's gaze softened as she traced a reassuring pattern on your arm. "Princess, the weight of a sword is not something to be taken lightly. It comes with a burden, a responsibility. It's not just about skill, but also about understanding the consequences of wielding such power."

Undeterred, you look Natasha in the eye with unwavering determination. "I know, Natasha, but I want to learn. I want to be more than just a princess locked inside these walls. I want to be strong, not just for myself, but for the kingdom."

Natasha sighed, her inner struggle evident. "Becoming a fighter is not a decision you make lightly. It's not about romance or thrills. It's about sacrifice and duty."

You lean closer and whisper, "Natasha, teach me. Help me become someone who can stand by your side, not just behind you."

Natasha, her resolve wavering in the face of your earnest plea, finally relented. "Very well, but remember that the path you choose is not an easy one. It will require more than just physical strength, it will demand resilience, courage and sacrifice."

A little later, the two met again in your room. Natasha had brought two wooden swords and now stood before you without armor.

"Hold your stance, princess," Natasha's voice, a melodic command, guided you through the movements. "The sword is an extension of your will, a guard against the shadows that seek to harm you."

You mirrored her movements, your determination overriding any uncertainty. As the training progressed, Natasha's approach evolved, the thrusts becoming calculated challenges, prompting you to respond in kind. The dance of combat took on an almost hypnotic quality, the exchange of steel becoming a silent dialog between the mentor and the budding warrior.

"Feel the weight of the sword," Natasha's husky voice echoed in the chamber. "It's a kind of dance, an intimate conversation in which every movement speaks a language that only warriors understand."

Natasha's hand, now tracing the curves of your sword, added another layer of tactile connection to the lesson. "Your grip should be an extension of your will. Let the sword become an extension of your own being."

The first maneuvers were deliberate, a dance in tune with the primal instincts awakening between them. Each swing of the blade, a seductive interplay of discipline and desire, unfolded in the soft glow of the candles that seemed to conspire in their shared mystery.

"You're a quick learner, dear." Natasha's voice, a low murmur, sent a shiver down your spine. "But swordplay isn't just about physicality. It's an intimate exchange, a connection that goes beyond the surface."

Their bodies moved in a synchronized rhythm, a dance that spoke of unspoken desire. Natasha's hand, firm yet tender, guided your movements, her touch lingering longer than necessary, leaving an indelible mark on the evening's tapestry.

"Feel the tension in the air," Natasha whispered, her breath brushing your ear. "It's the anticipation, the unspoken dialog between the combatants. Allow it to envelop you."

The longer the training went on, the bolder Natasha's approach became. Swordplay was no longer just about technique, but about the weight of an unspoken connection. The chamber, adorned with the soft glow of candles, transformed into a stage where vulnerability and desire danced in harmony.

Their blades met in a dance of sensuality and skill, the flickering candles casting shadows that played with the contours of Natasha's features. "Allow yourself to feel, y/n," Natasha murmured, her lips inches from your face. "The fight is an intimate affair, a shared journey where vulnerability becomes strength."

Amidst the seductive dance of battle, you found yourself entangled in Natasha's deliberate web of desire. Each calculated thrust, each lingering touch sent a ripple through your senses that betrayed the calm façade she desperately clung to.

As Natasha's hand rested on your back, a touch that lingered longer than necessary, you feel the telltale heat rise in your cheeks. You fight to hide the subtle shivers that Natasha's whispered instructions sent down her spine, a battle you were losing with each passing moment.

"Feel the tension, my princess," Natasha's husky murmur echoed in the chamber, and your attempt to hide your excitement faltered. You parted your lips to reply, but a stuttering breath betrayed the inner turmoil Natasha's proximity caused.

With a smile on her lips, Natasha continued to guide you through the intricate steps of the seductive dance. "You must learn to anticipate your opponent's moves, to feel the ebb and flow of the battle. It's a dance, my dear, a dance where every step carries the weight of desire."

Your voice was a barely audible whisper, trying to match Natasha's playful tone. "I... I understand..."

The air between them crackled with a palpable tension, the unspoken desires hanging in the balance. Natasha's fingers traced deliberate patterns on your skin, a teasing caress that left her wanting more.

"You grasp nuance quickly, my princess," Natasha purred, her gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "But there's more to learn, and the night is still young."

Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment, feeling the tension in the air reach a crescendo. You could no longer suppress the playful spark that flared within you and took the opportunity to strike a swift, unexpected blow.

The wooden sword struck Natasha’s face with a loud bang. She dropped slightly to her knees and touched her lips and to your surprise, Natasha's eyes widened briefly before she began to grin. The blow didn't seem to harm Natasha, but rather to amuse her.

You were shocked and dropped the wooden sword and rushed over to her. "By the gods! I'm so sorry, Natasha! I-I didn't mean to..."

Natasha, still chuckling, raised a hand to silence your apology. "No need to apologize, my princess. That was an impressive blow, and I have to admit you caught me off guard."

You're torn between relief and continued embarrassment, couldn't help but join in Natasha's laughter.

"Perhaps I underestimated your skill, Y/n," Natasha joked with a twinkle in her eye. "Lesson learned: never underestimate the unpredictability of a determined student."

As the laughter died down, you gently touched Natasha's face in concern to make sure nothing had happened to her. The soft glow of the candles highlighted Natasha's features, and your touch lingered, a momentary caress.

Natasha took the opportunity and leaned forward with a subtle intensity to capture your lips in a lingering kiss. After a time, she let go and looked deep into your eyes, "What do you think your majesty.. it would only be fair if I could.. hit you too wouldn't it?"

Your eyes widen and you repeat her words in your head, "Y-You want to hit me?" Natasha bites her lips, "Not in the face like you did, princess. But..there are good other places." She moved even closer to you and pinched your butt. You suddenly gasp, understanding what she meant now. Natasha understood by the look on your face that you were getting turned on and turned you around in a matter of seconds and bent you over on the bed. You gasp again as the impact from the soft bed hit you and you look back with a grin, "Princess..you realize you shouldn't like it, right?" She leans over you, her breath right by your ear, "Or am I mistaken?" You think about your answer for a moment, "No..I mean yes..I like it.." Natasha could cum on the spot..she grins and stands back up. She unwrapped your dress so that your cheeks were open to her. She stroked your soft ass with her fingers and suddenly there was a slap.

You fell forward, surprised by the blow. "You're my ruler during the day, princess, but with the doors closed? Oh, you obey me." And another blow, only this time you couldn't keep your mouth closed. "Who would have thought you'd like it like this?" And another blow. You braced yourself for another one, but none came. She reached under your stomach and turned you back to her.

Natasha didn't waste a moment and dropped to her knees, pushing your dress up again, "My goodness, you're leaking." Natasha leaned down between your legs and gently placed her fingers on your pussy. You flinched as she felt you, the sensations she were giving you simply teased and tantalized you.

"Please..." you beg, almost whispering. "Please, can you just..."

Natasha pursed her lips playfully. "Just what? Come on, how am I supposed to know what you want if you don't tell me?"

Your face flushed with humiliation, but you needed it so badly to come. "Please, can you make me...," you swallowed before continuing, "...cum."

"Ah. That's what you want?" said Natasha, as if she hadn't known all along. "You should have said that." With her right hand she slowly stroked up and down. Your rapid breathing told her that you were more than enjoying it. To further stimulate you, Natasha stuck out her tongue and licked you up and down. She noticed how you were reeling and now held you firmly by the hips with both hands and looked up at you, "Do you like that?"

You nodded quickly. You were no longer ashamed, you just had to cum. "Y-Yes..."

And she stopped. She stood up abruptly, took a few steps back to look at you, then jumped on top of you and kissed you. You could still taste the metallic taste of blood on her tongue as she entered your mouth again. She broke away again. "Take this off." she demanded, pulling at your dress. You nervously reached for the hem. "Now." she barked, making you flinch. Awkwardly, you pulled your dress over your head and let it fall to the floor.

Her eyes wandered over your body. You stared down at your feet, your cheeks bright red. "Look at me." she commanded. Your eyes shot up to her. "Sit on the bed." You walked to the bed and sat down. "Take off your panties." She said. You obeyed. You shifted nervously on the bed, feeling vulnerable under her scrutiny.

"Lie back on the bed. Spread your legs." You reluctantly obeyed. "Now touch yourself." she commanded. You looked into her eyes, fear creeping up your throat as you fought for control. You closed your legs. It wasn't going the way you had imagined.

She must have read that on your face. She surprised you again and began to undress. You relaxed a little at the gesture. You noticed that she left her underwear on. "Now. Go on." she said, watching you.

Hesitantly, you opened your legs again. She licked her lips and watched you with widened eyes. You stroked yourself tentatively. Your eyes didn't leave hers. "So that's what you do when you're alone?" She asked incredulously. "You can do better than that."

Your cheeks heat up and you move your hand faster. You stick two fingers into your dripping sex. Your eyes darkened with lust. That wasn't enough. You add a third finger and moan softly. "That's enough." She said, crawling onto the bed to hover over you.

Her mouth traveled down your neck and settled on your chest. Natasha pulled your left nipple into her mouth, her tongue tickling you, then she enveloped it with her lips and sucked hard. Your back arched off the bed towards her. She placed her hand on your breast and pushed you back down, then you felt it again.

Your hands clawed into her red curls, not knowing if you wanted to pull her away or pull her closer to you. "N-Nat..." you moaned in ecstasy. Her mouth released your nipple with a wet crack. The tongue in her hand was still circling your nipple. "That wasn't so bad, hmm?" she asked. She smiled up at you.

"There's one more thing I want from you, though, and you're going to give it to me." She stood up and walked into the next room. You looked after her curiously. When she returned, your breath hitched.

"I had something else good...Do you know Sir Stark? A..creative man." She was obviously trying to lighten the mood. However, you were still a little skeptical, "You want..."

"Yes. But only if it's okay with you, of course." You look at her and the fake cock with a strap in her hand. "Why is there even such a thing?" You had to laugh a little and Natasha followed suit, "Well...I guess I and every other person in the situation can be closer to the partner. Aren't you a bit curious too?"

You thought about it again and in the end you nodded. You see Natasha relax and come towards you again. She kissed you deeply again and put on the straps. When she was done, you felt the tip touch your folds and looked down. She pushed you back onto the bed and she crawled on top of you.

"I'd relax if I were you." she warned, and you really tried, but the pain of her penetration made you tense up again. You cried out, tears leaking from your eyes. "You can take it." She encouraged you, thrusting even further into your cramped hole.

"You're so tight, f-fuck." She moaned into your ear. "Please..." you begged. She pulled out of you, causing you to relax, and then thrust into you again. "A few more seconds, princess." She told you hoarsely. Your tears were now falling unchecked. She brought her hand around and stroked your clit. You struggled to concentrate on her hand and the tongue circling there.

"There, that's better." Her velvety voice whispered in your ear. She rode you hard. You rocked forward and backward.

Her hands instinctively moved to your face, bringing you into a deep, passionate kiss. You let out a small whimper when her hands ventured to your breasts, groping them against her palms.

Their kiss became sloppy as she pinched your nipples, causing you to moan. The sound of their skin slapping together, mixed with your deep, ruthless moans of pleasure and her fake cock stuck inside you, brought you to new heights.

She reached beneath her and began to vigorously rub your clit as she slammed into her. "Unnhh... ohh!" You screamed her name as your inner walls clenched around her. Natasha grunted in reply, breathless, she shoved herself deep inside you, sliding in and out so fast as her hands gripped onto your hips, forcing you against her. "Ahh — lOrd, please..!“

She jerked your hips forward and pulled you into her thrusts with more force. She pulled you hard into her pelvis. "I wish I could come inside you, princess..so much." She buried it in your throat, making her come even deeper inside you. "I think..I-I think...!"

Natasha leaned up again and quickened your pace, "You're close, princess?"

Your thoughts were only felt with Natasha. You wanted to say the same thing, but you couldn't.

"Fuck..how far away are you? You really like it, don't you?" Your hands clawed at the blanket to counter Natasha's swings, "Y-Yes! So-So..."

Natasha started to sweat and clawed at your hips too, thrusting into you faster, harder, "Then show me Y/n..Come on..."

Your breathing quickened and a little later the knot in you and Natasha burst. She collapsed over you and fell onto your chest. "Shit..how do you feel?" She could lose herself in the rapid race of your heart. "W-Wow..."

Natasha grinned, "That's right..you were awesome." She said as she looked at you and brushed your hair out of your face.

TAGLIST: @taliiiaasteria @natty-taffy @natashaswife4125 @lifebyinez @aemilia19 @clearcoloredlenses @ragoshmog @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @maggieromanov @thesevi0lentdelights @jayceelynnn

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha smut #natasha romanov x reader #dom!natasha x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year

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A Simple 3 day manifesting challenge using Neville Goddard “isn’t it wonderful”

"Isn't it wonderful? This is the secret declared by the wise: I am what I want to be. And though outwardly I appear to be living in this world, inwardly I am what I want to be in the world of my own wonderful creating."

The words of Neville Goddard are so powerful because they remind us that we are limitless in our potential. We can become whatever we want to be, regardless of our external circumstances. All we need to do is start believing in ourselves and have faith in our unique capabilities.At the heart of Neville Goddard's message is the idea that we create our own realities. People often forget this and get bogged down in the day-to-day mundanity of life. But if we remain focused on our goals, we can manifest our dreams and craft our own destiny.

"Isn't it wonderful" reminds us of our divine nature, and our ability to create our own reality as God being a spark of the Supreme Being, and to live a happy and fulfilled life without feeling discouraged or hopeless. By believing and feeling positively, we can naturally manifest the life we want by using our own power of thoughts and beliefs.

we can attract more positive outcomes. "Change your conception of yourself and you will automatically change the world in which you live."

by Using"Isn't it wonderful," we align ourselves with the energy of our desires and attract them effortlessly. "Ask yourself, 'What would it feel like if my desire were fulfilled right now?'"

It encourages us to persist in our affirmations and trust in the truth. "Persist in your assumption, and it will harden into fact."

It will evoke gratitude and celebration for the things we have and the things we desire. "Always be thankful for what you already have as it means you are already blessed with abundance."

The challenge

Day 1:

To begin with, it's important to understand the power of belief. Whatever we believe, we manifest. Let go of any limiting beliefs and remind yourself that you have the power to create the life of your dreams.

* Start your day by saying, "Isn't it wonderful that my dream life is manifesting right before my eyes." The reason this is in present rather than past, is to concur the fact that most of you guys truly don’t believe you can manifest in a day. That is why this is a 3 day challenge and not a 24 hour one. Three days seems to be the magical realistic number for tumblr, and sometimes it benefits you to go with your beliefs rather than fight them. Regardless, repeat this affirmation throughout the day whenever you catch yourself thinking negatively or doubting yourself. To make it more fun, create a "Manifesting Vibes" playlist with empowering songs to keep you in a positive and uplifted mood.

Day 2:

* focus on improving your self-concept. When we view ourselves positively, we attract positivity into our lives. Take a few moments to reflect on your self-concept. If there are any limiting beliefs or negative self-talk that need to be addressed, it's time to release them.

* Start your day with the affirmation, "Isn't it wonderful that I love and accept my godly ability to choose my reality.”It does not have to be all day at all unless that is how you prefer. It is a one and said quote because it is the truth and it does not need to be repeated.

To make the process simpler and more enjoyable, create a vision board of your dream life. Add pictures, quotes, affirmations, and anything that represents the life you want. Look at it every day and imagine yourself living that reality.

At night listen to this (suggested by @majasuniverse )if you like affirmations, or this for a spiritual audio I prefer to use this by @reincarnatedempress1, or this by @kikispiritualservices for my friends who like normal subliminals. Any of them work very well in my experience so it is up to your preference. Use it all three nights or preferably just the night of day 2 because you are more powerful than any audio or subliminal on the internet. If you have a habit of using vid sources, feel free to use it all of the nights, it will not hurt or hinder you in this challenge.

Day 3:

* On the final day of our manifesting challenge, let's focus on gratitude. When we appreciate what we have, we attract even more abundance into our lives. Start your day by saying, "Isn't it wonderful that I have so much to be grateful for and my dream life has manifesting easily and effortlessly."

* Create a gratitude journal and write down everything you're thankful for, including the small things. Whenever you're feeling doubtful or negative, read your gratitude journal to remind yourself of all the blessings in your life and manufestion that have already accrued in your life. You are already greatful because it is done.

That phrase alone should be a reminder whenever doubt occurs that creation is finished. It is a reminder that no matter what situation you are in, you have the power to create your own reality. When you declare this phrase, "It's done," you are making a conscious decision to accept what is and move forward. You are claiming your right to be at peace within yourself and with the world.

Remember. "Man has not discovered a method of bringing into manifestation that which he desires. He has always had it; he need only believe it into being."

The present moment is the point of power and attention, and so you should use it wisely to create your own reality.

"What you are conscious of, you are creating in this very moment."have faith that your desires are already fulfilled and to trust in your godly abilities.

And most importantly "Everything in creation is but an extension of yourself." When we manifest, we're not changing anything outside of ourselves in the physical world. Instead, we're changing our inner world and the way we view our reality.that’s why it can be instant or in this case three days.

Our thoughts and beliefs are like a filter through which we view the world. When we manifest, we're changing the filter, which changes the way we see the world. This means that everything we experience outside of ourselves in the physical world is simply a reflection of our inner world.

So no questions, don’t ask for clarifications because you’re already falling the challenge before it starts! It will work, and you’re doing it just right I promise there is no special trick to it or step you’re misunderstanding.

Anyways That is all! I wanted to make this challenge because as it’s my finals week I’ll be a little more busy as I’m trying to make it all to all the end of the year events and be present in the beautiful world and the people around me! I also limit my media consumption and I have been using tumblr more than other social media…but I have some shows I want to watch, so I’ll now have to reduce tumblr to keep my hours balanced ! I’m not on break or anything and I will be active.. just not as active so I wanted to put something out! I’ll see you guys soon and per usual happy manifesting loves!

#manifesation #void state #law of assumption #law of attraction #manifesting #self concept #ask #shifting #shiftblr #reality shifting #neville goddard

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holybibly · 5 months

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Divine Rosa ❢ot8xreader❣

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 10.1k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣ Chapter 1: Memento Mori ❣

Have you ever thought about death?

How many times have you asked yourself, “What will happen to us next?” “Is there something on the other side?” “Will we see the shining light at the end of the tunnel and the white-winged angels, or is it just darkness waiting for us?”

We constantly reflect on this, sitting in the noisy company of friends, frozen for a moment in cold numbness; late at night, when there is no sleep and gloomy thoughts creep into your head; on the subway, bus, or taxi returning home from work or school, desperately understanding the desperation of their situation; recurring days in endless solitude.

We should stop doing that. When the time comes, we will ask ourselves other, more important questions.

Nevertheless, we tirelessly continue to be interested in it. Again and again, until our clock stops.

Sometimes I think all we have after we die are flowers and regrets. In our soul, heart, and mind, every second, there are many events that do not obey any rules of formal logic. All that we lose at death. There is no longer the privilege of choice that we had in life; now we have to settle for small, choking on despair and memories, staring into our own reflection on a silver epitaph.

“Our love will stay with her forever.” It would sound like a dream if it weren’t such a dirty lie.

I don’t think love exists. It’s like a sweetener: we feel sweetness, but the brain realizes it's fake, sending out red signals warning of deception. But we still desperately crave this feeling, however painful it may be.

And yet, after death, our lives go on, and in some special cases, we find ourselves more alive than ever before.

It's our time to watch as the new story unfolds, and the usual roles are played by other actors. New names appear on the waiting list, and celebratory ribbons are given to the new queens. See how fake diamonds sparkle in their luxurious crowns. Despite that, you’re the star of this show. Your name is in the news, in the bold headlines on the front pages of newspapers, and every casual passer-by claims to have known you personally while you still existed in a small, closed time period called life.

So what does it feel like to be the only spectator in the front row? The main subject of general regret.

In our cooled consciousness, a sharp conviction of our own uselessness is born and settles. Friends we used to call the best put your stuff in boxes with ribbons of tape. A family that tears the remnants of your life apart, erasing your name from the family register with a sickeningly straight line of black ink. Acquaintances and colleagues, always smiling with an astringent sweetness that glues their teeth, easily remove your number from the contact list and open their palms in a welcoming gesture to those who came to take your place.

All of them, all these people close to us, express their false regrets about your untimely departure, putting a tick in front of the memorized phrase: “Ah, we are so sorry. She was young and beautiful.” Is that what they usually say?

That’s all; our race for popularity is over. The rules of good manners and standards of appearance no longer matter. Your thoughts, actions, and preferences belong only to you, and at this very moment, we feel freedom. Short time, but still freedom.

It is only a short moment until the lid of the coffin closes completely over us. And here we are, face to face with our past, alone.

As hard as it may be for us to admit it, it's true. All that remains for us after death is regret.

Each of us has our own. Someone feels regret for the love that he could not protect and the loved ones that he has lost forever. We regret the things we’ve done and the words we haven’t said, but most of all, we regret the time we’ll never get back.

The dead mourn more than the living.

Besides regrets, we’re taking flowers with us. Yes, these beautiful creatures are leaving with us to one day wrap around our bones, sever the grayish subtlety of our skin, and grow again above the ground, eating us like a parasite.

The flowers also symbolize the grand finale of our celebration. When the music dies down and the curtain falls, they will be the only ones who will stay side by side while the guests leave the lavishly decorated hall one by one.

Have you noticed how many bouquets are brought to cemeteries?

I like to think of it as a peculiar payment for our rest. Maybe death is as in love with these deliciously fragile things as we are, and that’s why they’re leaving with us. Silent companions who hold our hand as we go into the darkness.

The path to the origins of the great Sanzu River is paved with bloody lycoris and mournful lilies. Truly a magnificent sight. Ugly and beautiful are two sides of the same coin.

When I was little, Mina told me many different stories. Some warmed my cheeks and stretched my lips in a happy smile; others were gray, like days with incessant downpours. I wrapped myself in blankets and warmed my palms with warm cups of herbal tea, but there were other stories that I didn't want to remember until now.

They were sinister, like a spider hovering on a web waiting to be sacrificed. The words were sharp; they pierced the skin, leaving long, stinging wounds. Meaning has always been terrible; like a blade in the tongue, it could not be swallowed and understood. I was afraid. I was scared to death. I could not sleep in the light of a bright day or in the mist of a starry night; in the coziness of the blankets, there was no warmth or protection, and the mocking laughter of Mina made it worse.

My grandmother scolded her and assured me that all this was nonsense, empty words, and legends formed from idleness, but I knew better. There was truth in Mina's stories, and the realization of this only made them scarier.

The most terrible of them was the story of a young man in black silk robes. Beneath the black veil was a sensual smile, and the fox's heterochromic eyes were alluring and sparkling like stars.

Was he a nine-tailed kumiho? A black reaper holding death itself on a leash? He may have been a vampire, desperate and thirsty, but personally, I was sure he was a ghost. A past woven into a single canvas, thread by thread, stitch by stitch. I think I saw him once, during the Lunar Festival. He was the center of my little universe, the otherworldly and inexplicable, his long black clothes flowing to the ground like a waterfall, and the diffused light of the treacherous moon embraced his silhouette like a caring mother’s embrace.

I thought the world was dancing around him. The children were running around laughing and circling like butterflies in the round dance; the couple were whispering nicely, their palms intertwined tightly, as if it would save them from the inevitable parting; and the others were simply enjoying the festival time, waiting for the sheaves of colorful fireworks to explode in the sky.

His eyes pierced my figure so greedily and sharply. I saw hunger in them. A thirst. A goal.

And then I screamed. So loud and disgusting in a childish way. With a shrill screech, I rushed into the crowd, hoping to find Mina. The colorful ribbons in my hair rushed into the air, and the wind bore me the echoes of his sweet laughter.

He was mocking me. I could have run, but he could have caught me in a second if he wanted to. For a moment, I looked back to make sure that he was still standing there, covered with moonlight and a myriad of stars, but the long, flowing silk of his black robes melted like a mist in the night without leaving a trace.

Mina laughed mockingly as I clung to the lush skirts of her violaceous hanbok, sobbing, choking with tears, and pointing my finger in the direction where I saw the young man with the fox’s eyes.

After that incident, I didn’t sleep for days, couldn’t eat, and was afraid of every noise.

From that night on, I began to believe in ghosts. They are among us. We can see them, reach them, and hear their whispering voices. Science cannot explain them; they are not subject to it. They are mistakenly called fictions, twisted forms of memories that acquire real outlines and are indistinguishable from the real world.

Science calls it imagination; I call it another form of life. Ghosts exist. They’re always there.

The line between the dead and the living is thin and fragile. If you push it a little harder, it’ll shatter.

It’s true—life after death exists.

I was told once that death is like being submerged in water. First, the lungs start to burn from a lack of oxygen; the body gets heavier; the eyes are baking, but we’re still conscious; and the brain continues to function. Then comes the next step. Our body desperately clings to life, continuing to contract the heart muscle. Bam, bam, bam. Deaf blows on the rib. If you start acting now, there is little hope of salvation. No more than a minute. And then, after that, there’s the final stage. Clinical death. Smooth stripe on the monitor.

Our sinking is over. We have reached the bottom. We have met eternity in the muddy depths, blended with the muddy sand and pearls.

That may be true, but for me, death is no more than a moment—until the last flowers on the grave fade.

I never thought about dying. Until it happens to Mina.

The first time I met death, it was with my first breath. I was born with silence—too small, too fragile, and painfully quiet.

Then there were the piercing sounds of medical devices and the screams of doctors and assistants. I was taken away instantly and carried far into the sterile, transparent box. Death retreated, but it didn’t go away.

I was only three when my parents died. Mina was squeezing my hands and talking about a long journey. Grandma took us to her old country house, where secrets were hidden and hyacinths blossomed. At the time, the very concept of grief was not clear and tangible to me; rather, the feeling was like frostbite, when the skin was already dead, but the pain was absent.

So I knew death before I even knew it.

My grandmother died suddenly. Her life was cut short in an instant, like a thread brought to the flame. I knew it; it seemed long before it happened. That summer, I was going to be at a ballet camp, and Mina was the star of the school, and she was planning on spending time with her cheerleading friends. Just one call changed all our plans. Short skirts and ballet points replaced chrysanthemums and black ribbons. Mina was grieving, taking condolences, while I watched from the sidelines. Grandma's leaving seemed like a dull pain from an old injury rather than a sharp cut, and it was easier to deal with than I thought.

This was the third time I'd known death.

And then Mina happened.

The passionate, bloody, grandiose Mina's death. By closing my eyes, I could see her face again. White, sun-drenched, and blood roses, her long fluttering eyelashes, and scattered carmine strands of hair.

She was not at all afraid to die, as if this scenario had been memorized by her. Isn't it an innate instinct, a fear of the unknown, of death? We are frightened by monsters under the bed and horrors lurking in dark corners. We must be afraid of death. We are obliged to do this from the very moment we are born.

Mina was not afraid. She was never afraid of anything, unlike me.

Spiders, darkness, roses…

The list goes on.

When she died, I realized two things: one, nothing lasts forever, and two, I wanted to know what happened to my sister and what became her trigger. Big red button. At my request, an autopsy was conducted to rule out a drug-induced hypothesis that could have caused mental and emotional distress. Forensics found nothing in her lungs except rose petals. Mina literally breathed flowers. It sounded almost fantastical to me. Even her death was beautiful. Forever the first violin in the orchestra.

The case of her mysterious disappearance was closed. There was no point in looking for someone who was already dead. I asked the detectives to continue the investigation, but despite my desperate pleas, the police were adamant. My sister’s once-radiant life was packaged in a pair of cardboard boxes with a large-scale signature in black marker. “An Mina, case 117”. With each passing day, everything about Mina sank into darkness, but the mysteries and secrets around her only grew larger.

Once upon a time, I could call Mina an open book. It was easy to read—all the emotions, character traits, and habits—everything in it was exaggerated; there was no middle. Her love was never a simple hobby; it was always sharp, risky, and passionate.

Perhaps that is why she so easily fell into an obsession with roses; her feelings took a dangerous path.

I wanted to know who gave her these fabulous roses, who sent her candy and little sweet notes. There was something wrong with all of this, and not just the fact that the lush pink buds didn’t fade. No. It was a feeling, something very ominous, like a calm before a hurricane. A frightening, unnatural silence when all is silent and the air is gathering in front of the thunder's stunning storms.

There’s a long, unrequited tranquility on the other side of the phone line.

In the Japanese language, there is the expression “koi no yokan,” which literally means the feeling of inevitable love for the person you first met. This is not love at first sight, but a premonition of future love. So it was with these roses; they were not evil as such, but they were the inevitable omen of his coming.

True evil does not come in the form of a little red man with sharp horns and a long tail. Evil is beautiful—almost religiously magnificent. His appearance is divine and seductive, attracting the sweetness of the forbidden. Of course, the Devil himself was once an angel. And not just anyone; he was God’s favorite.

So are these flowers. I’ve never heard of people falling in love with soft petals and spiny stems. No one ever sings strange prayers for roses and dedicates his life to them without a trace. Those roses were bigger than they looked.

I think that Mina’s death was not accidental; it wasn’t suicide. Something broke her, violated her mind, and eventually destroyed her. Whether they were roses or people who gave them, that was my question. It was a secret hidden in the white folds of her lace dress, the dreamy smiles, and the names she spoke with such awe.

During Mina's funeral, I was approached by one of the lawyers who handled her legal affairs. I had to sort out the property rights and the lots of pages with numbers, dates, and places. Mina left me not only secrets but also a great legacy. As it turned out, in addition to our common apartment, she had several other assets in her possession, including her grandmother's mansion, which at one time she received as a sole inheritance, shares in various companies, and investments abroad.

I am now the sole owner of all this.

I had no idea where to start looking for answers or where to find the keys to the secret locks. Maybe I can find something in her files between the lines and the capital letters, or maybe it’s all dry formalities. So, going to the lawyer sounded like a good start to me.

How many can hide from those who command our last will?

Even so, I didn't want to be alone with Mina's secrets if I could find something in her belongings. I decided to call Soomin, who was once Mina’s best friend, the closest, to be exact. She was always there, having fun and crying with Mina, supporting and comforting when needed. Soomin was an integral part of her life. My life.

After the incident with the roses, they split up, not on the best of terms. Their conversation completely ended, but I still continued to spend time with her, and we often went to brunch at various gourmet cafés that Soomin loved so much. She was an elite restaurateur and had great taste, not only in the interior but also in food.

In a way, she completely replaced my sister. Soomin always told me, “No orgasm can ever match a stunningly cooked fondant au chocolat”. Yeah, I could totally agree with her on that.

After dialing her number, I waited for an answer. The wait was not too long, and after the second tone, I heard the melodic voice of Soomin on the other side. “Hello” “Soomin, I'm sorry to distract you from work; can you give me a few minutes?

“Sarang? I can’t believe you finally called me. How are you feeling, honey? I’ve been really worried about you, you haven’t spoken to any of us all this time.” In her voice, there was a sincere concern that resembled a mother's.

Soo has always been so caring and gentle. In her was the same fascinating brightness that Mina possessed, which brought them very close and became the strong foundation of their friendship, but unlike Mina, who resembled a raging forest fire, Soomin was a comforting flame of home. One was ready to destroy everything around her; the other collected ashes in beautiful vases and kept them as precious memories.

After Mina died, she was there for me when I especially needed support.

“Sorry, Soomin, I’m still trying to get over it." I sounded exhausted, even to myself. The days spent in voluntary isolation completely drained me emotionally and physically. I was the alarm of danger light for my friends. “You know, when she went missing, it was hard for me, but I was still hoping she’d come back. I convinced myself that Mina was fine and that she was enjoying life surrounded by her favorite roses.” It was the first time I had spoken openly about my feelings since Mina’s death. “I never imagined that my sister would slit her throat in front of me. I still have nightmares, Soomin, but I’m calling you for another reason, I have a little favor to ask you.”

“Sarang, you should feel like this; it’s okay. What happened to Mina traumatized you; damn it, it would have traumatized anyone if they were you. We agreed to give you time to get over it at your own pace, but when you didn’t answer our messages and calls, we started to worry. Eun Jung even offered to come to you several times; you know how she is.” She was anxious, and I understood why. “I’ll help with everything I need; just tell me how I can do it.”

“You agree too quickly, Soo.”

“Sarang, please stop. The only thing I can offer you now is my help. I can’t imagine how you’re handling all this, and if you need my help, I’ll be there for you. So stop denying me and tell me what you wanted to ask.”

“Do you remember Mina’s lawyer who approached me at the funeral? I think it’s time I met him. It’s all about inheritance and property, but there’s something else.” I started off insecure. “I want to find out who sent her those stupid roses.”

“Why?” in her voice sounded like sincere surprise. “If you were me, would you want to know how it all started?”

“Probably, but aren't you afraid? Judging by how it turned out for Mina,” she stammered for a second. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“No, you’re right. Absolutely. I’m scared, and if things weren’t so messed up, maybe I would have done something different, but listen, Soomin, I have a strong feeling that I’m always missing something, and it’s bothering me.” “People don't change so dramatically, and certainly not because of the roses. You've been friends with her for so long, so you know her as well as I do, and we both understand that it's crazy to give up everything in your life for roses like that. Especially for Mina.” When I spoke my thoughts out loud, I was even more convinced that I needed answers. It really was crazy. “ She left so many secrets that I want to find a clue. I haven't told anyone, but the roses are still being sent. I received a call from the cemetery administration saying that her grave was littered with flowers, and they needed to figure out what to do with them. Not only that, but I also received several bouquets.” There was no point in hiding it anymore. If I want Soomin to help me, she needs to know about those roses that were sent to me.

“My God, Sarang, you should have told me right away. Did you talk to JiHo? This is an abnormal situation. What if you’re being chased, Sarang? I don’t know, it’s all so scary.”

“You have no idea, but I don’t think we should talk about stalking.”

“Why? Maybe it’s a stalker or serial killer; you should be careful. Please tell me JiHo is living with you now.” “First, I don’t think anyone in their right mind is going to come after me, and second, JiHo and I took a pause.”

“Did you break up?” she asked with an incredulous echo.

“I'm not sure if you can call it a breakup.”

“God, the bastard left you. I always told you he was a rare asshole and would run away at the first opportunity.”

“Soomin, let’s not talk about it, but if you want to hear it, yeah, you were right about him.” The memories of our conversation with my ex were still fresh and festering in my mind like a ball of worms.

It’s very convenient to hide behind phrases like “let’s take a break,” “you need time to figure things out,” “emotional vacation,” etcetera. No one wants to be a part of your grief. At this party, the cake belongs entirely to you.

“Okay, let’s close the JiHo thing. Tell me, do you know anything about who sent the roses? Any ideas?”

“Absolutely nothing; I’m stuck. There’s nothing that can help. No address, no sender’s name, Maybe we can find something in her files or stuff; I don’t know.”

“Yes, it’s possible. When do you want to go to a lawyer?”

“This Friday, if you’re free?”

“Give me a minute,” the papers rustled on the other side, Soomin clearly trying to find the day she needed in her diary. Knowing the nature of Soo, it was difficult to make out anything there; her records were always chaotic, and careful planning was not her forte. In this, too, she was similar to Mina.

“I’m totally free. How about going to brunch first and then to the lawyer?

You could use some fun, and I’ve always wanted to go to this new trending place. I hear they serve incredible fondant au chocolate, and the owner looks like God cut him out. How does that sound? “First, tell me, are we going there for the fondant or the owner?”

“You can’t judge me; everyone’s talking about how attractive this man is; I just want to see.” Soo softly dissipated.

“Have you betrayed your love of chocolate for a man? Kim Soomin is something new. Anyway, everything sounds great. Let’s go and see if those rumors are true, but if I were going there solely for the chocolate,” I smiled at that thought. I’ve really been lacking in communication lately. We should start coming back to the real world. “Do you know the address?” “Sure, I’ll pick you up at 11:00. Please wear something prettier than a black dress.” “It’s a classic, and thank you again, Soo.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, Sarang. Finally, I can call you like that, you know, Rosa, it doesn’t suit you. I’ll see you Friday, baby.”

“I think so, too. Until Friday.” I put the phone aside, taking a deep breath. The long stems of white roses had folded in half in the cramped bin. A luxurious wrapping in a rare shade of Solferino and embroidered topaz ribbons lay next to the bulky pile, and a small note was shrunk into a perfect ball that was also lying in the trash.

Whoever sent those flowers should have stopped doing that. I’m not Mina. I don’t like roses.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

How quickly does the waiting time pass? We count the days, the hours, and the minutes until the exciting event we’re expecting, circled by a thick red line in the calendar, but is it really worth our time, which life has measured for us?

It's so strange; the days are like bottles of sand thrown by a restless ocean onto a flickering glass bank. I remember this one, crystal blue—it smells like strawberry cheesecake and summer heat. And this one, made of gloss and pearls, is full to the brim with grave earth and chrysanthemum petals. I like the one that sparkles with diamonds from the royal frosted glass; it smells like a lover’s pillow, and there are memories of the first love. There is another, very ordinary, and therefore the most precious—empty and at the same time full. If you open it, you can hear the gentle wind whispering your name.

My life is all about memories now. I’m just trying to keep what’s left.

The rest of the week passed unnoticed by me. Time, like the rapid trains at the station, rushed by, and I kept waiting to see the stop I needed in this incessant turmoil.

Existing in space is very simple when it belongs only to you. I did actions that were memorized to the finest detail, simple mechanisms that gradually brought me back to my normal state. Feed the neighbor’s cat. Do the cleaning. Go for a walk. Check the mail. Cook dinner. Ordinary things to take your mind off the colorful bottles on the shelves of consciousness and the endless cycle of nightmares.

And I also noticed that at night, time flows more slowly. Second by second, replace the glowing dial until dawn. And so on until the ruthless rays of the sun insidiously penetrate between the tightly woven threads of heavy boudoir curtains, and the golden shadow spills over the pampered skin like boiling water.

I think I'm allergic to the sun and, therefore, to the stars.

Maybe the whole world.

Today I woke up earlier than usual. Somewhere below the horizon, the sun splashed in the golden ichor of the predawn twilight. Yoru stretched out at the foot of the bed, warmed by tiny drops of warm light that seeped into the room through the window. Last night, she refused to leave, stubbornly ignoring my presence and my tender pleas to return home to her mistress.

Yoru was my neighbor’s cat, perfectly embodying all its best features: a slightly aggressive, capricious, and having a little bit of arrogance. Despite this, she had a strange affection for me and often stayed at my house if she was in the mood.

Other tenants avoided Yoru, considering her a bad omen, and it was not only the polished glossiness of her black fur; she always appeared where death later came. I didn't care; I've always loved cats, and having one of them in my house was a bit of comfort. I wasn't alone.

Sensing my awakening, her almond-shaped eyes flashed with the sharp color of precious stones in the slits of the eyelids—a thick amber glow, not yet warmed by curiosity or playfulness. Yoru tossed and turned, clearly unhappy that someone had disturbed her sleep, arched her back and closed her eyes again.

We could lie like this all day long, in silence and some strange harmonization. I’m sure she’ll get close to me a little bit later, calculating her every move, until he presses on his heart with a peaceful, relaxed purr. Unfortunately, today was not the day I could afford it. Soomin will soon be here, and I need to get a little tidy.

Shower. Food. Simple things. Jars of creams and neatly arranged lipsticks Are there certain rules of appearance when you go to a lawyer? What dress should I wear—a deep neckline or open legs? How decent?

Should I still look mournful? Should I wear a veil? Two months have passed; are other colors acceptable? What will he think of me?

So many questions were spinning in my head while I was going, and it seems to me that whatever I choose, it will still be inappropriate. The story of Mina was not a passing affair; probably everyone in the city had fleetingly heard about her death. One of my friends told me she was called “Queen of Roses” because of the flowers in her hair, and I saw the headlines of the “exquisite death” articles.

The black color dripped venomously to the floor with the long hems of the dresses in my wardrobe; the gray, like a mist, settled in the loops of cardigans and oversized sweaters; and the ghostly white terrified me with thin transparent lace and ruffles, just like on Mina's dress. The choice was not too large.

A jacket dress on a naked body made of thick matte silk, a little pearl, and a high choker collar with long falling threads, It was one of the old jewels I bought in a small antique shop. Vintage trinket in the style of Queen Marie-Antoinette. I had a whole collection of such chokers—some studded with precious stones made of expensive jewelry metals, others woven with the finest threads, like a skillfully woven web. Hard made of steel and leather, and soft, like angelic kisses, made of organza and velour. JiHo once said I had a choke kink if I liked things like that; maybe I did, but my ex was too “vanilla” to close his hands around my neck.

After getting dressed and styling my hair, I sat down on the couch and waited for Soomin to arrive. What should I do now? I was lost. Turn on the TV or read a book? Look at the news feed on Instagram; be sure to look at JiHo's profile to see his new photo. Does he miss me or not? Is someone else warming up his bed now that I'm not around? Is JiHo still wearing the same perfume as before, or has he found something different?

Anyway, I never liked his perfume; it was salty like tears and distant ocean breezes and rancid like decaying wood in the dense Amazon. He called them gourmet; I could only agree if they were worn by someone else, say someone more dominant and powerful. Maybe I would even find this strange, gloomy mixture of aromas attractive, inhaling it from someone else's hot skin and feeling with the touch of my lips a steadily beating pulse in the swollen veins on a strong neck.

How long does love last? Three years or more? For me, it's a moment; for others, it's an eternity. I loved him. It's true. Very strong and very long ago. My love did not resemble the indomitable elements or the explosions of colored fireworks; rather, it was the fragrant bloom of wildflowers and the scattering of stars in the sky. She was comforting, not passionate, and I wanted to see someone like me, someone who could comfort my heart and give me tenderness.

Tenderness and comfort alone were enough for me, but deep inside, I wanted something dangerous, something forbidden. I was devout, one of those people who are called “good girls,” but was it really me or the role that Mina gave me?

Maybe in the far corners of my mind, my thoughts weren’t as good and right as they should be. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, but sometimes when I woke up from another nightmare, I was glad she was dead. Dark, reckless emotions made their way through my cracks; they were moments of despair as my anger lifted its ugly head and oozed poison and blood. My cruelty and hatred had the color of roses and smelled like chocolate. She had fox eyes and a seductive smile; desire flowed in her veins, and strangled thirst was heard in her voice.

In my nightmares, I saw not only Mina and bloody roses; sometimes there was a young man in long silk robes and a veil hiding his face. He's just a ghost; I met mine years ago, but somehow he seems more real to me night by night when he comes into my dreams without permission. He crept into them like a serpent-tempter into the Garden of Eden, slipping away at dawn like the shadow of two moons, hiding behind a door I could never open.

Unreal in my reality.

I felt the arrival of Soomin even before her long nails methodically began to knock on my door. It was as if the spell had been removed and all the sounds of the world had rained down on me in an instant. Yoru shook off her sleep and whirled around at the front door, waiting for an unknown guest. The clatter of high heels echoed in my apartment, slipping through the cracks of the door locks, and the thick smell of ambergris and blooming jasmine at night walked ahead of her, warning every one of her approaches. If I didn’t know better, I could easily have mistaken her for Mina. That was my sister once.

The whole world was just a part of her life; she was not part of the world. To be ordinary—what a bad form!

“Sarang! Sarang, open up. I’m here.” and in fact, her long nails caught on the dark wood of my front door, causing Yoru to bristle and hiss.

I was absolutely sure they wouldn’t get along.

“Are you awfully loud? Someone told you this, Soo?” I opened the front door wide, smiling softly. “I missed you, Soomin.”

“Don’t tell me about it; I missed that pretty face.” She hugged me, which made Yoru hiss again, attracting Soo’s attention. “When did you get a cat?”

“That’s not my, Yoru cat, my neighbor from apartment 1366, that door.” I waved my hand to the far end of the corridor, where Mrs. Lee’s apartment was located. “I like her; I don’t mind having the baby stay with me sometimes.”

“I see.” There was an awkward pause between us until Soo broke it. “You want to talk about… you know what.” She was worried about this topic; I could see it from the way she shifted from foot to foot, or was it from high heels? In the light of the electric lamps, the steel studs glittered like sharpened spindles from the tale of The Sleeping Beauty.

“Not now. Better tell me about this restaurant we’re going to.” Soomin was easily distracted if you changed the topic of conversation in the direction of a subject of interest to her.

I walked out of the house, taking one last look at Yoru. The cat didn't even think about leaving my space; he was already ensconced in a pile of pillows on the sofa in the living room. If she wasn't going to leave, I wouldn't force her.

“Don’t you need to return the cat to the mistress? She looks expensive.” asked Soo

“She’s a purebred Persian cat, and no, Mrs. Lee won’t worry about it; Yoru can stay with me for weeks before she comes home. This has happened before.”

“All right, if you say so.”

I shut the front door and turned the key, permanently cutting off my escape routes. Today. I have to do this today or my resolve will wear thin, and I will once again voluntarily isolate myself in the comfort of blankets and tightly closed curtains.

"And so, the restaurant..." This was the beginning of a long story that interested no more than random passersby in a faceless crowd.

“You’re going to love this place, I promise. Everything I’ve seen on their Instagram profile is so fascinating, but you know what makes this place really attractive? It’s the owner. Eun Jung was there last week, and she couldn’t shut up about…”

For the next 30 minutes, I heard about this trending establishment. “ Angels' Share” is the most requested boutique café in the last 3 months on all search engines. A luxurious café with exquisite dishes and a magnificent concept.

But most importantly, it is, of course, divine, and Soomin, the owner, was absolutely sure of this. Hundreds of girls lined up in endless lines from dawn to dusk, hoping to see him, at least for a moment.

On your first visit, the owner of “Angels' Share” personally serves you throughout your interruption there. Your name is inscribed in the book of exclusive customers in gold ink. Their main specialty is gourmet desserts, and if you are not seduced by the angelic face of the magnificent man who runs this place, then the sweets melting on your lips will do it instantly.

Full berries of scarlet strawberries in white Belgian chocolate. Mille-feuille with fresh wild berries. The devil's food is the most chocolate of all chocolate cakes, and, of course, the angel cake has the most delicate silk cream of exotic fruits.

As Soomin told me about it, she was clearly having an emotional orgasm. Her arousal was obvious, but I could not understand what she craved more: exquisite desserts or the sweet kiss of the owner.

“I think he's a real angel,” Soo finished her rant after giving a fiery speech about the unique beauty of a man she had never met in her life.

“I'm not sure if it's all true, Soomin, but you'll be able to see for yourself when we get there. You should not trust everything they say. You're too impressionable and trusting.”

We spent the rest of the journey in peaceful silence. This is the type of silence when there are a lot of questions in the air, but each side is not sure when to start asking them. I know she wanted to ask me a lot of things, and in response, I wanted to finally share my experiences and feelings that I had been desperately hiding for the past two months. Nevertheless, each of us remained silent, as if afraid to destroy fragile comfort with uncomfortable words.

When the car stopped, Soomin smiled approvingly at me, as if to say, “Go ahead, my girl!” She was good at it because she was also a cheerleader like Mina.

“Angels' Share” was impressive at first sight, and not only because of the long line of girls lined up in a perfect line and dressed in intricate clothes like collectible dolls on the shelf.

A myriad of flowers, lace, and feathers, pastel shades, and delicate ruffles—all of them looked like animated sugar fantasies. Their cheeks were dusted with pink blush, and their inflated lips were accentuated by a thick layer of transparent sticky gloss with a fine sprinkle of glitter.

Perfectly well-groomed hair is arranged in children’s cute curls or intricate hairstyles with hundreds of sparkling hairpins and velvet bows. The variety of their images was amazing, as was the height of their heels. This place was definitely something special if the girls were willing to sacrifice their comfort for a couple of desserts.

Or it wasn’t about desserts.

At such moments, I especially understood how much we needed someone else's approval. The list of items seems endless: he likes cute girls, girls with an athletic figure, pale skin, and big eyes; she should not be boring; my friends like her; she has long legs and a thin waist; and she is a certain height. I wonder if he'll use a ruler to measure me. Big boobs or a nice ass—which turns him on more? What will our first date be like? That's right; should I call him Oppa or not? Tell me what you want, and I will fulfill whatever you want. I will fulfill every one of your fantasies. Tell me about your desires.

Seduce me. Surprise me. Love me!

I don’t want to live like this. I want to be who I really am, with all my flaws and imperfections. I want to be sharp and rude; I want to be cruel and honest; I want to look as I want, without colorful tinsel and layers of makeup, with cellulite, stretch marks, and a little overweight. That may be so, but it will be me. Just me.

The voice of Soomin ripped me out of my mind.

“I told you so,” said Soo smugly, purposefully heading for the entrance, circumventing a string of discharged girls. She was a lioness on a hunt, while they were stranded in colorful piles like scared rabbits.

If you do not pay attention to the girls, the exterior is fascinating. Gold, flowers, and crystal resembled the frame of a precious box. “Angels' Share” was positioned in such a way that the sun flooded it from all sides, creating around it a mysterious golden haze of sunlight and a dazzling iridescent play of crystals.

Everything was so beautiful, I won't deny it, but didn't the gingerbread house beckon the children deep into the dark forest where the wicked witch lived? Everything beautiful always has a downside, and someone knows how to mask it better than others.

While I was looking at the details, Soomin dragged me inside and was already talking to the host girl, who was checking the records for a long list of names. She also, like the girls on the street, looked like a doll. Her hair was long and shiny, tucked away from her face with an embroidered rim with Swarovski crystals, and her eyelashes were so lush that they touched her cheeks when she blinked. I would call her beautiful; she licked to perfection, which made it almost unnatural. She had a sweet, high-pitched voice and an overly friendly smile. Annoyingly friendly.

“Please follow me; I'll show you your table. Since you have visited us for the first time, Mr. Yoon will personally take care of you today. Please enjoy your stay at “Angels' Share.”

YooA—that was the name of this girl—led us up the spiral staircase to the second floor. It seemed that everything around was carved from pale golden marble, with the addition of luxurious interior items and thousands of flowers—or, to be more precise, thousands of roses. Snow-white, cream, pastel pink, and soft peach—the whole space breathed rose buds that stood in tall transparent vases.

The sight took my breath away, and I was inwardly tense. It's okay; it's just a café, not Mina's apartment. You need to relax and not start panicking; it will not benefit anyone.

As if sensing my growing panic, Soomin squeezed my palm.

“Are you all right? You look pale.”

“Yes, it’s all right; there are too many roses for my taste; you know, it brings back memories.” I smiled tortuously in response to her words. I didn’t want to ruin her day; she was so excited and happy when we came here.

“We can leave if you are not comfortable, Sarang.” Soo still held my hand, gently walking her thumb over my palm in a comforting circular motion. “If you want to go somewhere else, this is fine. I can always come back here later.”

“No!” came out too loud. “No, I’m fine. I can’t wait to try their chocolate fondant. You know I’m here only for chocolate.” She said the last part with me in one voice.

YooA showed us our table, although it was more like a small loggia separated by airy chiffon tulle and pearl threads from the common room. I could easily fall in love with this place if not for the languid, enveloping smell of roses and the beauty of their lush, perfect buds.

“Do you think the rumors are true, and we'll see an angel appearance today?” Soomin leaned across the table to talk about the owner, not so obviously?

“I think you'll find out about it now, anyway.” I couldn't finish my thoughts, interrupted by Soo's enthusiastic sigh. It was a sound of undisguised admiration that she couldn't hold back, even if she tried.

The reason for her excitement was right behind me, and I had to look back a little to see what it could have been.

Of course, all the sounds of delight belonged to none other than Mr. Yoon. In part, I could understand why he was called angel-like. His beauty was painfully perfect, to the point where it became almost terrible. His face was beautiful—almost obsessively beautiful, like the face of a stone goddess on a grave. Surreal. The skin seemed to glow from the inside, like molten silver flowing through the veins. He had long hair—ashes, platinum, mother-of-pearl—everything mixed on a diamond cloth. One silvery strand fell delicately over his face.

Are the melodies of an angelic choir in the air, or does it just seem that way to me?

The more I looked at him, the more his appearance disgusted me.

I felt flawed and unsuitable, like a puzzle that did not fit the picture; my heart did not beat faster with excitement or sweet agony; I did not burn and did not desire it as it should. Between us, it was possible to draw thousands of parallels in a myriad of universes, and none of them ever intersected. Beauty is deceptive, like a serpent promising forgiveness. It’s the pain of a bittersweet injection entering our nervous tissue.

What do we know about them—angels? White-winged light bearers, without flaws and ignorant of evil and vicious desires, are submissive and faithful to their ideals and purposes. Silent watchers who look after our virtue. But there are those who are chained and silken, whose wings are torn out with bloody flesh, for they are sinners.

Their name is the fallen. Unforgiven.

He was not an angel. He was one of them who traded the vaults of heaven for the flames and steel of the nine circles.

His presence was heavy, stifling, and sharp. Goosebumps ran through my skin as an omen of the imminent end.

I could have sworn that the second our eyes met in his eyes, the color of dark bitter chocolate, anger, and disgust thickened. So everything that is perfect collapses, falls, beats, and crumbles like the great walls of Babylon, kissing the transcendental peak of heaven. Like a Venus flytrap, his appearance was a clever disguise of vice and rot in a velvet cage of flesh, and this place is the very gingerbread house that beckons to certain death.

“Welcome to “Angels' Share”. My name is Yoon Sung Hoon; I own this place, and today I will make sure your stay here is unforgettable.” The voice flowed like honey smoothly and gently, I could melt at this tone.

“I am Soomin, and this is Sarang; we have heard a lot about this place.” Soo’s cheeks were pink from a shy blush, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was embarrassed. This man was clearly something special, if he could make Soomin behave like a schoolgirl in love with just his presence.

His eyes rested on my figure for a second, and I wanted to shrink into a ball under this appraising gaze, as if he was trying to probe me and understand how dangerous I could be. It was only a moment, and then a smile shone again on his angelic face.

“I hope you’ve only heard nice things about us. What do you want today?” I wonder what he is used to hearing in response. I want you and your love, and I will accept everything you would not give me. Will you be my boyfriend? My husband? Will you give me eternal love? Judging by the expression on Soomin's face, this is exactly what she wanted to ask him, but she pulled herself up in time.

“I want to taste your best dessert.” As they say, kill them with your sweetness. Where has my self-sufficiency and t.” As they say, “kill them with your sweetness.” Where has my self-sufficient and confident self gone? Soo, this blushing mess was nothing like hers.

“Of course, only the best is for you. And what do you want?” All his attention was now drawn to me, and I had no pleasure. Yoon Sung Hoon is clearly not used to girls not falling at his feet like moths hitting the glass. Our dislike was mutual. Our dislike was mutual. “What do you want, Sarang? I would recommend one of our most special desserts: a white chocolate soufflé with candied scarlet roses.” Sung Hoon was smiling, but not at all benevolent; there was something mocking in the exquisite curve of his lips, as if he were challenging me: “Come on, try me.”

Roses. Those damn roses again. It always came down to these flowers. Were they my path leading away from the dark forest, or would they lead me straight to the crystal coffin in the tallest tower of the castle?

Instead of politely refusing, as a true lady should, I have given a crude, hoarse, and utterly evil speech:

“I hate roses.”

For me, flowers are as beautiful as the pain of a broken heart. You can call me a heartbreaker. What will your heart taste like? I'm so eager to try it.

“My apologies.” Sung Hoon bowed his head, hiding his gaze in the lace of fluttering eyelashes and platinum bangs. With this simple action, Soomin once again made a barely audible, enthusiastic sound. “In this case, I offer you our signature chocolate fondant with raspberry jam and glass caramel glaze. Our clients say that he has a heavenly taste, so celestial that he can be sinful.”

Sung Hoon—there was something about him that disgusted me. His way of speaking, his appearance, his behavior—in general, every detail of it The most beautiful apple on the branch will always be wormy. I couldn't understand how he could charm girls in a split second, without any effort, as if it were in his blood—to cause desire and awe.

During our short conversation, Soo did not look at me once, inseparably studying every detail of the angelic man. If I make an incision in his skin, will the gold pour as befits angels, or will it be the viscous and black acid that Pandora once shed from her eyes?

I didn’t like it here. I didn’t like Yoon Sung Hoon, and he probably didn’t like me. How was I in his eyes—insignificant, puny, ordinary? Our dislike was mutual but totally unfounded; I just knew I didn’t want to be in the same space with him. I can’t breathe.

Guests always leave after dessert. I didn't want to linger, so I agreed to fondant. “Okay, I'll take fondant and cappuccino.” I looked at Soomin again; her thoughts were clearly elsewhere, judging by the bitten lower lip and flushed cheeks. “And matcha latte, please.”

“Of course, ladies…” With this phrase, he finally left us, and I sighed deeply.

“I think I'm in love, Sarang.” Apparently, with his passing, Soo’s brain has resumed active activity. “He absolutely justifies all the rumors about him.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that; he’s definitely something very special.”

After Sung Hoon served desserts and another 10 minutes of heated discussion of his appearance, our conversation took its normal course. It’s like ping-pong; the rules are very simple: move from one question to another, follow the theme, and don’t miss your turn. “How's the work?” “Everything is fine.” “How’s your boyfriend?” “You remember I told you we broke up?” “What have you been doing lately?” “Too much to do; I can’t remember, but recently I came back from Japan”, “Did you like it there?” “Great seats and great cuisine.” “How do you feel, Sarang?” Say it again; I didn’t hear you.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” Once again, you speak unclearly.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” It's so loud here, I can't hear you.

“Sarang?!” Can I skip my turn? I’m tired of this game.

I took a deep, slow breath.

“What do you want me to say, Soo? Something that will calm you down or something that should comfort me? ”

“Truth, Sarang. I want to hear the truth from you.” Soomin looked at me so carefully that it seemed as though she was looking straight into my soul.

My mind moved from one thought to another, not knowing what it would focus on. Truth. What is it like, this truth? She is like a beautiful, spiritually disheveled monster with a lesbian couple of black widows in an aquarium; she exists in an endless eternity of joyful decadence and an ecstatic nightmare.

It’s no big deal to tell someone the truth, but are you ready to see your own reflection in someone else’s eyes? They say alcohol is a liquid truth, but I think it's nothing more than a road strewn with bread crumbs, straight into a dense, dark forest. The more you drink, the deeper you go. Sometimes, through the intricately woven stems of condemnation and bitterness, subtle rays of understanding break through, like the light shed by the dual face of the moon. But this happens so rarely that the eyes themselves become accustomed to the surrounding darkness.

I’m still afraid of the dark and, therefore, of the truth. Now I’m sure I’m allergic to the world.

When I looked at the café, I noticed that there were many more people. Bunny girls with colorful barrettes occupied small transparent tables filled with all sorts of desserts; others, similar to porcelain dolls, put their palms to their cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, and laughed loudly, sitting in the same loggias as ours. The sounds of clicks from selfies and aesthetic Instagram photos did not subside for a second, as did the high play of voices merging with soft background music.

This probably wasn’t the best place for such a serious conversation, but was it ever the perfect place to have a heart-to-heart?

“Honestly, I don't know. Really?” I began, stirring the thick, fragrant foam from the cappuccino. It tasted like a first kiss—a little bitter, a little sweet—something that I would like to repeat again and again. “Secrets, secrets, and more secrets—everywhere I look, no matter what I ask, they only get bigger. Everything is as usual: Mina died, and the world is still spinning around her. Remember, I told you that they still send roses? I can say that soon the cemetery will start selling bouquets because there is simply nowhere to put them. Every day there are fresh flowers on the grave.” Maybe I sounded a little petty and annoyed, but I didn't care. “I may not seem like the best person on this planet, but sometimes I feel absolutely happy that I finally managed to bury her in the ground.” Yes, this is exactly the right moment; you are not mistaken. That was my truth, like salt and pepper, like ashes, like burned dreams.

Soomin shook her head negatively.

“You shouldn't talk about yourself like that, Sarang; you're not a bad person, and we both know it; everyone around you knows it; and even that bastard JiHo knows it. You have gone through a lot, and if I were you, I would have gone crazy long ago, but look at yourself: you are here with me, in the noise of the metropolis, and you have your whole life ahead of you.” She put her hand on top of mine, and the warmth of her body penetrated mine. “Mina was who she was, and neither you nor me nor anyone else could change her. So don't let her ghost poison your life. I'm not a fan of this entire Nancy Drew thing, but I won't dissuade you. If you want my help, I'm on board.”

I laughed bitterly, taking a sip of the coffee that had already cooled. There was something special about it—sweet, ice-cold coffee, like long-cooled love.

“Yeah, you’re right; she was who she was, but I guess we were wrong about that because those flowers broke her in half. In fact, that’s the whole point of the question: where did the roses come from? She was interested in nothing but flowers and some strange prayers. She frightened me. You know, at first it looked like another love of hers; everything was as usual—she talked incessantly about flowers and admired them, but the more roses they sent us, the less she was interested in the rest of the world. Mina withered and languished while the roses bloomed. I've never seen anyone come to our house or meet someone. Nothing, just roses—hundreds of roses. You just can't imagine how many there were.”

“You know, I don’t really want to imagine it. Okay, let’s say you find something in her files. What’s next? You really need this? Maybe we should just let go, you know, scatter the ashes to the wind.” Breaking off a slice of angel cake, Soo mooed in satisfaction as the dessert was in her mouth. “Mmm, I love sweets. Who handled her legal affairs? If this is one of the free lawyers, we should hurry; the queues in these cantors are worse than here.”

“No, no, we're not going to a free advocacy team. Wait a minute.” I pulled out of my purse a small card from a thick black cardboard and handed it to Soomin. Transparent gloss on a soft matt surface looked refined and very expensive, just like the business card itself. “Silver & Black LTD” was the name of the law firm that handled Mina’s affairs.

“You’re kidding me!” She exclaimed, almost burying her face in her business card. “That’s “Silver and Black.” How did she manage to work with them? They’re one of the most elite law practitioners in all of Seoul, and I’d say across Asia. Their lawyers are real sharks in their cases; for the existence of their practice, they have not lost a single case, and the bills for their services are simply cosmic. How does she have so much money? Sarang, did you inherit her sugar daddy too? If that's the case, ask for more; you're much more expensive than a cheerleader, and nerds are always sexier and more desirable.”

“Stop saying that like I’m a whore. I don’t know where she got the money, but are their services so expensive?” My surprise was obvious. Our family was not poor, but we were not rich; we occupied that golden layer in the class hierarchy where we could just live without any worries about tomorrow. Mina and I were well provided for, but judging by Soomin’s reaction, “Silver and Black” could afford only filthy rich and influential people.

“If I were to be offered the opportunity to trade my virginity for cooperation with them, I would have done it without hesitation. Are you sure we have an appointment with them?”

“Soomin!” Frankness was always such a simple thing for her that I felt awkward at such moments. “Of course, I called them yesterday to confirm the details.”

“What? The cult of virginity is overrated anyway, but now I'm much more interested in it.”

“Let me think, more amazing men?” “How did you guess?” Soo smiled sweetly, shoving another piece of dessert into her mouth. I snorted; I couldn’t help it. "Hey, don’t laugh! You should also consider new options, since you and JiHo have broken up. Listen to me, little Sarang, nothing will warm your bed better than a hot big boy."

"Ew, Soomin." She just laughed back.

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