ππππ ππππππ’ πππππππ ππ: @aienkanoahegao you Stare At Your Wardrobe, Sighing In A Manner Somewhere Between Frustratedly And Defeatedly. before You Are Three Outfits. Your Culler Put Them Here At Some Point Before You Woke Up For The Evening, As He Always Does. All Modest, But Cute. Never Any Skirts Above The Strutpole Hinges. Puffy Sleeves And Sailor Collars. It's Always Obvious Which One He's Hoping You'll Pick, Though You Wouldn't Be Able To Explain How To An Outsider. literally. It'd Be Hard For You To Explain Anything To An Outsider, Seeing As You Don't Speak West Beforan, And Your Culler Doesn't Seem Particularly Interested In Teaching You. You've Already Been Here At Least A Sweep. as You Peruse Your Options, You Realize The Outfit You Like Best And The Outfit You Suspects He Wants Are One And The Same. It's Especially Annoying When This Happens, Because It Makes You Feel Like Exercising What Little Choice You Have Is Playing Right Into His Fronds. You Huff At This Circumstance, Leaning Against The Wall As You Continue To Stare Into The Wardrobe. come To Think Of It... You've Never Tried Cherrypicking From Your Selection. You'd Always Just Been Quiet And Submissive. But He'd Never Said You π€π°πΆππ₯π―'π΅. Surely He Wouldn't Mind Too Much, Right? As Long As You Still Looked π¬π’πΈπ’πͺπͺ, What Did He Even Care? Maybe The Blouse From This One, And The Skirt From That One... you Head Downstairs Into The Castle's Main Room, Where You Find Your Culler Seated On One Of The Cushions At The Table. He Sips His Hot Leaf Beverage, Only Looking Up When You Enter. His Expression Is Difficult To Read, Though His Ganderbulbs Flicker Across Your Form. "i See You've Taken It Upon Yourself To Get Creative, Damara-chan," He Says, Of Course In His Broken East Beforan. you Can't Quite Get A Read On His Mood, So You Tread Lightly. "i Guess You Could Say So," Is Your Only Response. "you've Just Seemed To Always Trust My Judgment As Far As Your Presentation Goes, So It's A Bit Out Of Character For You To Suddenly Discount It As You Have." He Punctuates This With Another, Particularly Judgmental Sip. your Eyes Are A Bit Downcast At That Comment. "well... It's Just That... I Thought You Said I Was Allowed To Pick My Outfits," You Mutter Feebly, Staring Down At Your Adorable Skirt. "you Can. Did I Say Otherwise?" He Makes Direct Bulb Contact With You, The Way He Always Does When He's Trying To Play Himself Off As Rational. When You Don't Answer, He Glances Back Towards His Reading Material Briefly, Before Perking Up As If Suddenly Remembering Something. "you Remember That Soiree We're Meant To Attend Tolight, Don't You Damara-chan?" He Laughs Lightly. "apologies. Quite The Random Thought, I Know, But It'd Slipped My Own Pan Until I Remembered Just Now, So I Wanted To Make Sure To Remind You Just In Case." you Begin To Feel One Of The Unique Flavors Of Uncomfortable Only Your Culler Has Been Able To Evoke From You. You Both Steep In The Moment In Silence For A Few Seconds Before You Blurt, "you Know What? I Think I'm Gonna Go Upstairs And Think About My Outfit A Little More." "if That's What Would Make You Comfortable," He Says Indifferently, Once Again Consuming His Drink As He Reads. you Scurry Upstairs To Change, Trying Your Best To Keep Your Tears Silent. #culltea #cw-abuse? πΌπππππ’ πππ Well Well Well. β β β β β β β β β β β β β