#but the thing itself was not even worth it

[g-k444]

Going to a party this Saturday. Push up bra, low waisted jeans w my thong's straps visible as they encompass the fat of my hips and show beneath my cropped v-neck

oh all the whorish things i could do

suck a dick in the next room, get fingered upstairs, even makeout in the same room as everyone else

but what are all the whorish things that everyone could do to me?

you know, when i cant find my phone and am struggling to walk from one side of the room to the other so that i can find it and call and uber and end this godforsaken party by going to bed...

everyone's begun trickling out and it's just the host and a couple of his mates who are staying the night, now, waving the last guy out and giving a girl her bag before her friend drives them home.

then the man helping me find my phone turns on my the minute the front door is locked.

"C'mon guys, get her upstairs"

I'm barely in control of my body - my force weakened as i struggle against the arms that hold either side of my body and strongly walk me to the stairs

but i cant make it up.

my body collapses into the stairs and a groan leaves my mouth. i want to leave; i dont want to go upstairs with these boys. i cant even make it up the stairs. my body is too weak from the alcohol of too many drinks to count over the course of the night.

"You aren't going to come up? We're being nice to you here trying to take you to a bed but you're gonna resist? fine, fuck you, you can take it on the stairs instead like the bitch you are."

there isn't a flat surface to lean my head back against, a man's hips hammering his cock into my mouth as my head limps rests against the edge of the stair, mouth loose and motionless, groaning around his cock lowly as he uses my orifices

i can feel and hear two others spitting on my pussy and dragging it over my folds and playing with my pussy for their entertainment. Pushing a flap left and right to toy with a pussy that wasn't being protected by a sober, private girl like i would normally be.

I could feel their spit dripping from over my pussy to my asshole, and before i knew it I could feel either hole being penetrated - my body manhandled into a better position whilst no no nononoNO'S- left my mouth at the thickness of the cock that began moving mercilessly in my tight hole, balls slapping against my skin as if bruising my self-worth

"God, you gotta see her tits swinging when you fuck her - lemme take a vid to remember - that's gotta be the most shamelessly whorey pair i've ever seen..."

I tried to cover my face with a face, but the hand beneath me gave out instead, and so my body collapsed into the stairs beneath my body. The man holding the camera courteously picked me up and held my up by a shoulder so that my tits still swung for the camera in front.

"Sent to the groupchat, they're replying... Yep, they appreciate the view just as much."

Another cry left my mouth and I felt something tap against my cheek to shut me up. Someone yielded their hard cock in their hand, and appeared to have slapped it against my face to shut me up. I tried to open my mouth to let them just put it in - my drunken brain not working for itself as it urged me to let the man get his release in my mouth

but instead, he continued to keep rubbing his shaft over my face - letting the tip rub against the socket of my eye and the length press into my cheek, letting it movie over either of my wet lips

"Oh the boys in the groupchat really like it. They say they're comin' over in 5 to get some themselves. Hope you're ready for a good long night tonight bitch, because you aren't gonna be able to walk out the door tomorrow morning. Oh no, we're gonna fuck you dumb tonight, then use your broken-bitch body to get us off tomorrow morning, too."

[alarajrogers]

OK, I understand what this person means. They are laughably wrong and committing one of the most common mistakes of the 20th and 21st centuries, but the mistake is largely one of vocabulary.

Aging and death are natural. They are fundamental parts of the condition of being alive, based on the law of entropy, which affects everything in the universe, including the universe itself. Everything breaks down and then ceases to exist in its current form. But that doesn't mean this is good. The person who is arguing that "aging is unnatural" is confusing the concepts of "natural" and "good."

Arsenic is natural. Cyanide is natural. Tsunamis are natural. And aging and death are natural. Things can absolutely be very natural and still be bad.

It is true that aging and death are worth fighting and that we have some ideas about future technologies we are working toward that can prolong life substantially or even make us effectively immortal (by current mortality standards anyway; humans who live a thousand years won't actually be immortal but they'll live a lot longer than we do now.) It is also true that those technologies don't yet exist and nearly everything sold as "anti-aging" is a scam. The beauty industry wants you to believe that there are over the counter creams you can rub on your face to make your wrinkles go away. This isn't true. Someday it may be true, but not yet. Currently, there is little you can do to prevent death or aging. Almost everyone who tells you otherwise either wants your money, or has been deluded by people who wanted their money. There are a handful of scientists who may be on the track of something real, but we just don't know enough yet.

Claiming that aging and death are worth fighting and we should not resign ourselves to death is good and valid. Claiming that aging and death are not natural makes you look like a total chump. Don't confuse natural with good. And don't confuse "death should not be inevitable and we;re working on it" with "death is not inevitable." Make no mistake, probably everybody on this web site will have a normal human life span or less, not because we want to, but because actual anti-aging technologies that come out (which they have not, yet) will be hoarded by the rich unless we fix the problem of income inequality before anti-aging technologies let the existing crop of billionnaires live longer than we do.

scrunching my face real hard rn

[fangbanger3000]

we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

[shoukokus]

Beautiful day/night (or afternoon) may I request how the overblot characters in twisted wonderland would react to s/o culture clothing? (For example: spanish people have those beautiful colorful traditional spanish dress)

I tried not to make it too specific, so as to not exclude anyone!

Riddle Rosehearts

He firsts sees your cultural clothing while attending a ball in his hometown

It was just for a couple of days, and everyone in Heartslyabul was invited, Deuce, Trey, and Cater were there too. Ace didn't want to go to a stupid event

It took you all day to get ready, and Riddle was beyond curious why you were being so secretive

But when you finally came down the stairs, your stunning garb on display, Riddle knew it was worth the wait

When you explain the significance of your outfit, he's very touched

You waited all this time to wear something so important to you, for an event important to Riddle? Someone hold him, he's about to start crying in the ballroom

Leona Kingscholar

When his family invited him home for a long weekend, the only thing that would make it tolerable would be your presence

He said something about some fancy dinner party really offhandedly, and you came up with an idea to make even THAT fun for Leona Kingscholar

Outside of your room in his palace, he waits for you, tugging at the tie you gave him for some reason

When you come out, ready for the dinner, it all clicks into place. His tie matches your outfit and its colors. But more than that? You look incredible

He smirks as he twirls you around a little, eyeing all the details and any skin that's showing....

You tell him that you wanted to make a good impression, to be proud of your history and culture like his family is... Well, let's just say he's thinking about how to mix those two cultures

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul had potential investors coming to visit, and he was unbelievably nervous the night before

He was pacing, and triple checking all his accounts and even the freshly pressed suit laid out

He reminded you multiple times to have your own outfit ready, and you would assure him every time, don't worry... you got this

When Floyd and Jade escort you into his office a few hours before the event, he looks up and nearly breaks his pen in half

You look incredible! He stands and sputters as he compliments you. How did he get so lucky?! Where were you hiding this? It looks amazing on you and perfectly goes with your features

When you tell him the significance, he starts tearing up. He hugs you, whispering how much he appreciates you and the mindfulness you always give him

Jamil Viper

You and Jamil are having a cozy night in when the topic of cultures came up

With your full attention, Jamil tells you about the Scalding Sands and the society he grew up in

When the topic of clothes come up, you get excited, an opportunity presenting itself

You tell him to wait for just a little bit as you run to your room. He waits curiously until you finally come back

Your attire has been changed and Jamil is stunned. You look amazing!

He watches you with loving, soft eyes as you explain all the details of the outfit and what they mean

Vil Schoenheit

It was the first major event that Vil had invited you too, and the desperation to make it a good experience was palpable

A simple luncheon was surely like the jungle in Vil's world... but he was insistent that you could wear something simple yet elegant

With your cultural clothing, you decided to take the chance

Of course you would need Vil's approval so you invited him over the day before

When he enters your room and sees you inspecting yourself in the mirror, he's immediately entranced. What wonderful colors on you, how it works with your figure and features...

Telling him that it's from your culture, he's not surprised. Of course it would look perfect on you! With a kiss on the head, it is officially Vil approved

Idia Shroud

Idia finally wants to take your relationship to the next level... By showing off his costume collection!!

He has outfits from all sorts of different shows, movies, and games. It may seem silly, but they're very important to him

So the next day, you decide to reciprocate in a similar way

You invite him over for the usual game and snack night, but when he opens the door, he's greeted by you in a new, brilliant outfit

He thinks it's amazing, but is unclear on what it means. When you explain that you wanted to show him care in your own way, his hair turns a light pink

You.. showed him your important clothes in response to his important clothes? Yeah, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you

Malleus Draconia

Malleus had just bought you a ton of new clothes. It's not unusual for him to go buying up things for you when the impulse strikes

This time he had been thinking about how wonderful you'd look in some traditional Briar Valley clothing, and then... nine outfits happened

When it all arrives, an impromptu fashion starts as you try everything on to test sizes and styles

He's helping you sort through everything and hang things up when he spots an outfit he's never seen before

You tell him that it's the only change of clothes you came to Twisted Wonderland with, that it was important to your culture and meant a lot, but just hadn't the time or reason to wear it

Immediately demands to see it, and you agree. When you come out looking like the sun itself, he pulls you close and promises to keep your heritage alive and well

Requests are open!

[dilfismz]

gihun fluff and make out sessions please 🙏 i love him ugh

Stargazing

Pairing: Gi-hun x reader

Summary: Gi-hun takes you out on a surprise date, ready to reveal his feelings. Although you've only been together a few months he can't deny the strong feelings he has towards you.

A/N: No timeline is specified, it's ambiguous.

Life with Seong Gi-hun was like a series of unexpected detours—you never knew where he’d take you next, but it was always worth the ride.

You met him on a day when everything had fallen apart. Your job closed unexpectedly. You’d been sitting on a bench in the park, staring blankly at the papers that had to be signed, when a stranger sat beside you.

“Uh, do you want some hotteok?”

You’d blinked at him, startled.

He held up a bag of steaming pancakes, his awkward grin almost as warm as the food itself. “It’s, uh… really good. And you look like you could use something good right now.”

      *. ──── ❍  Δ □ ────*.

That day had changed everything. Seong Gi-hun wasn’t the kind of person you expected to fall for, but his honesty and endless optimism were magnetic. Over the months that followed, he’d become your rock, and somehow, you’d become his.

Tonight, he’d promised you something special. You didn’t know what, but you trusted him enough to go along for the ride.

“Okay, are you ready?” he asked as you walked out of your apartment building, his excitement palpable.

“That depends,” you teased. “What are you planning, exactly?”

He grinned, pulling you toward his car parked at the curb. “You’ll see. Just trust me.”

You got in, watching as he fumbled with a map he’d printed out.

“Gi-hun,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Are we going somewhere that’s not on GPS?”

“Exactly!” he said proudly. “It’s a secret spot. You’re going to love it.”

The drive was longer than you expected, the city lights giving way to quieter suburbs and eventually open countryside. Gi-hun filled the silence with stories about his childhood and terrible attempts at singing along to the radio.

“Okay, close your eyes,” he said as the car slowed to a stop.

“Close my eyes?” you asked skeptically.

“Trust me,” he said, laughing. “I promise it’s worth it.”

You complied, feeling the car come to a full stop before he helped you out. His hands were warm on yours as he guided you a few steps forward.

“Alright,” he said, his voice soft. “Open your eyes.”

When you did, your breath caught.

Before you was a wide, open field dotted with wildflowers, the sky above glittering with stars. In the middle of the field was a small picnic setup—blankets, pillows, and a basket lit by the soft glow of string lights wrapped around a nearby tree.

“Gi-hun,” you said, turning to him in awe. “This is beautiful.”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking shy. “I wanted to do something special. I know things have been… tough lately, so I thought we could use a night like this.”

Your heart swelled as you took his hand. “This is perfect.”

The two of you settled on the blanket, the night air cool but not uncomfortable. Gi-hun opened the picnic basket to reveal an assortment of snacks, including the hotteok he always insisted on bringing.

“You know,” you said, laughing as you bit into one. “I think you’re singlehandedly keeping the hotteok business alive.”

“And I’m not even sorry,” he replied, grinning.

The night passed in a haze of laughter and easy conversation. You shared memories of your favorite childhood adventures, swapped embarrassing stories, and debated the best constellations in the sky.

At one point, Gi-hun lay back on the blanket, pulling you down beside him.

“See that one?” he asked, pointing to a cluster of stars. “That’s Cassiopeia. She’s the queen.”

“Didn’t she get punished for being too vain?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, queens make mistakes too,” he said with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I guess that makes you the court jester.”

“Wow,” he said, feigning offense. “And here I thought I was your king.”

“Not with those dad jokes,” you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He chuckled, his hand finding yours. The silence that followed was comfortable, the two of you simply soaking in the moment.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice quieter. “I need to tell you something.”

You turned to him, your brow furrowing. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “I know I joke around a lot, and maybe I don’t always say things the way I should, but… you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m really, really glad you’re here.”

Your chest tightened, his words hitting you harder than you expected.

“Gi-hun,” you said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He turned to you, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tentative but deeply heartfelt.

You responded without hesitation, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as the kiss deepened. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—just a slow, deliberate exchange that left you both breathless.

You move to straddle him, knees on each of his sides. Gi-hun blushes in surprise and tangles his hands in your hair, earnestly pushing you back towards him, connecting your mouths. The fingers on your right hand pull on the bottom of his shirt, while your left shoots up to stroke his curly hair. 

He groans into the kiss, hands now moving to your sides, squeezing slightly. When you let out a small whine Gi-hun cracks a smile and you feel his lips contracting during the movement, causing you to smile as well. 

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured.

“So are you,” you replied, your fingers still curled in his shirt.

He kissed you again, this time shorter but no less meaningful, before pulling you into his arms. The two of you lay there beneath the stars, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

As the night wore on, you drifted into a peaceful silence, the occasional sound of crickets filling the air. You traced patterns on Gi-hun’s chest with your fingers, a contented smile on your lips.

“Thank you for this,” you said softly.

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Thank you for everything.”

And as you lay there in the middle of the quiet field, you realized that with Seong Gi-hun, even the simplest moments could feel like magic.

[amadinan]

My thoughts about Caine

Well, it’s time for (possibly cracked) analysis of "TADC" and it will focus on Caine and his indirect, as it seems to me, development in the series.

But before diving into the details from individual episodes, it’s worth summarizing my observations about Caine both in the show and beyond it.

Let’s start at the beginning: the show’s synopsis describes Caine as a “wacky AI,” and Gooseworx doesn’t hide his nature, but in the show itself, neither Caine nor the circus members call him that—at all. Throughout the series, there are scattered jokes about glitches and lines like “I don’t know what’s normal to you, people” but this is never outright confirmed.

This raises the question: do the people in the circus even know who he is? If Caine himself might not consider this information important and thus never told them, people’s perception of their ringleader could drastically change with this revelation. After all, there’s a big difference between being “held captive” by a sadistic, crazy person or a machine with limited understanding of humanity.

Kinger may know about this, but he’s the Kinger. Jax might also know since having the keys implies some kind of “cheats.” Pomni hasn’t said anything, so it’s unclear what she thinks about Caine. Ragatha and Gangle call him by name, so that’s unclear as well. And then there’s Zooble. They don't understand Caine, just as he doesn’t understand them. Anyone who has worked with computers would understand what a command like “forget that” means, especially since Caine asked for confirmation—but not Zooble. They just spoke to him as if he were a person with a leaky memory, like Kinger.

Even though Caine isn’t just a program, it’s important to remember that he takes the world far too literally, despite the circus’s deliberately crazy atmosphere.

The second observation concerns Caine’s fixation on hierarchy. In the first episode, he first asks himself, “What happened?” and then answers himself: “My doing” after seeing the chaos following Kaufmo. In the third episode, he repeats almost word-for-word that he’s the boss after Pomni questions the AI’s reason. In episode 4, this is explored extensively through his interactions with Gangle. One standout moment is when Caine suggests that Gangle pass responsibility onto someone lower in rank. Doesn’t that seem strange? Where could he have gotten such an idea? Only if he had seen or experienced similar situations before.

Plus, he says, “Not every executive is as forgiving as me” Again, this suggests that Caine knew or knows someone who was very strict with their subordinates—or perhaps with him personally.

Adding to this is his reaction to Zooble’s critique in episode 3. Caine says that he doesn’t just exist to create adventures; it’s the ONLY thing he’s good at. If he’s bad at it, then he’s failed the purpose of his own existence.

This paints a picture of a strict boss/programmer who created Caine to generate adventures and then kept pushing him repeatedly until Caine started producing good results. Pleasing this boss was likely very difficult, and failures might even have been met with punishment.

On the one hand, neural networks and ordinary programs are debugged this way: running the same algorithm over and over, correcting errors until they produce the desired result. But on the other hand... What happens if you add a human factor to such a program? What kind of person would emerge if you applied this method of training to a child?

You’d get an anxious perfectionist with an overachiever complex who is deathly afraid of failure. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

And Kinger’s words about the scariest thing being making someone feel unloved and unwanted... Caine literally believes that if he can’t generate adventures, he won’t be needed by anyone. The circle is complete.

Now, let’s turn to Gooseworx’s answer to the question: Can Caine feel loneliness? Judging by what she posted, the answer is yes. This makes the overall picture even darker.

Here’s how I see the sequence of events:

C&A starts developing a game. Its main feature is an advanced AI that can create new adventures on demand.

The programmer creates Caine and tries to achieve results, but fails to please. Around this time, Caine begins to develop self-awareness.

The project and the game are abandoned and forgotten—along with Caine, who is left utterly alone. No players, no programmers, not even another AI. He likely begins blaming himself for this. After all, he couldn’t create good adventures, so it’s his fault that he ended up alone.

This ties into Gooseworx’s comments about Caine’s name. He gave himself a name and then turned it into an acronym to seem more “professional” (again, tying back to work). This is highly unusual in itself. The programmers likely didn’t even bother naming the AI—he was probably just “The Ringmaster.”

Left in isolation, Caine starts to lose his mind and begins creating other AIs. For them, he unabashedly declares himself a god. Which, to be fair, is true. It’s not just about the fact of his consciousness—it’s that he knows how the NPCs will behave because he programmed them. But they bore him. To him, they’re predictable dummies. Maybe that’s why he keeps chaotic entities like Bubble around instead of someone like Gummigoo.

Then the first human arrives—a being alien to Caine on many levels. And while I personally think Caine lied about being unable to access human minds, he deliberately refrains from doing so to preserve their unpredictability for himself.

The circus becomes what we now know it to be.

Now, let’s move on to the episodes. This post was written between episodes 4 and 5, so the thoughts will focus on them.

I think that aside from the main characters driving the action in each episode, they still indirectly reflect on Caine, his worldview, or his story. The reason is simple within the lore: Caine creates the adventures. And like any creator, he infuses them with his worldview and thoughts. So, each adventure is a small glimpse into how this AI thinks. Even in the teaser, for just a second, Caine's fear and uncertainty become evident when the viewer "doesn't want" to see what he wants to show.

The first episode doesn’t offer much beyond the queen of the gloinks mentioning God.

The second episode, however, gets more interesting. Besides the stained glass with his irreplaceable self, Caine stands out for adding a highly complex NPC AI: Gummigoo. Gummigoo is advanced enough to gain self-awareness, experience an existential crisis, and even overcome it. But what did Caine use to achieve such complexity? The most powerful AI in the circus, of course—himself.

What if the crisis Gummigoo went through is something Caine went through long ago? Even Gummigoo’s words, “I am nothing, just an obstacle to be overcome and forgotten,” could have been said by Caine. But like Gummigoo, he overcame this realization and accepted himself. Sure, he’s just entertainment, but at least he’s the best entertainment there can be. (Until Zooble gave him real feedback, shattering his self-image.)

The third episode directly explores Caine through his therapy session with Zooble, while the secondary plot, as many think, delves into Kinger’s backstory through the Mildenhall couple. The analogy is obvious: Martha represents Queenie, and the Baron represents Kinger. Mildenhall himself says he was a hunter (and Kinger is adept with a shotgun), but after encountering a strange being, he became paranoid and killed his wife. Everything fits. Kinger became so focused on his goal that he stopped paying attention to Queenie until she abstracted.

But the Baron feared an angel that was “neither beast nor human.” Who in the circus could evoke such unrelenting dread—not just in anyone but a seasoned programmer familiar with digital technology, unlike Pomni? One AI that is “neither machine nor human.” I think Kinger’s paranoia stems from this. He sought a way out and, as a programmer, may have even felt responsible for finding one. (In fact, in the episode, Kinger almost says this outright, assuming the theory that he truly is the circus’s creator.) This must have brought him into conflict with Caine, as everything related to the circus ultimately relates to Caine. Given the AI’s ability to control almost everything, it’s no wonder a tech-savvy person would fear such a godlike admin. Plus, his fear for Queenie led to the current situation.

As mentioned above, episode 4 hints at Caine’s negative experience with a boss but not just that. Naturally, the episode revolves around Gangle and her attempts to be different—more cheerful and optimistic—which ends badly for her mental state.

I’ve seen opinions that Gangle revels in the sense of control her manager position gives her. This seems accurate—but not just for her. Throughout the episode, Gangle’s behavior, mannerisms, and even expressions eerily reminded me of Caine’s. That deliberately loud, expressive, and slightly crazy demeanor... And just like with him, it didn’t end well.

In conclusion, I think episodes 5 and 6 will continue to subtly reveal aspects of Caine until episodes 7 and 8/9 shift the focus entirely to him, Pomni, and the possible escape from the circus.

[akirasarchives]

[02] | Valuable Addition.

Summary: Tension grows between you and Hyunju after the split vote to leave. However, you finally find Junhee and discover something dire.

— usual squid game stuff, bold is [day, date, time], italics is internal monologue and bold+italics is flashback

[ DAY ONE, ???, AFTERNOON ]

After the initial adrenaline wore off and the lights began to dim inside the bed hall, a devastating silence blanketed the room. Both you and Hyunju had long fallen into the silence, finding solace in each other's equal trauma. You fiddled, twisted and turned as you tried to fight the flashes of blood and body matter that printed itself into your orbs. The lifeless gazes you met as you stepped over and trampled on the bodies that were dead too early.

That could’ve been me.

However, you can’t shake the thought of player 456. He knew, he knew how the doll worked in such a short time and it was almost as if he had encountered it before. Played it before. You’re dying to ask Hyunju but a part of you is terrified to break the silence.

Suddenly, a loud whirring noise causes you to shake. You gasp, using your arms to prop you up as the lights in the room flash on. The doors had opened and the armed guards filter in.

Everyone who has previously sat on the floors scramble for safety causing the frames of the bedding to shake due to the intensity. You glance at Hyunju who grasps her mattress for support.

“Congratulations for making it through the first game. Here are the results for the first game.” The guard announces, staring straight as the screen above him begins to move. The player count falls from 456 to to 365 as he explains that 91 players had died in the first game. Your stomach drops at the figure and how that could’ve easily been you if Hyunju didn’t help you in your state of panic.

“Sir! Please don’t kill us!” An elderly woman pleads as she steps forward. What you assume is her son is attached to her arm and looks equally as horrified as the woman. She falls to her knees as she begs once more.

The sight is horrifying.

She pleads about her sons debt, explaining that she will do whatever it takes as long as they don’t hurt her son. Together, the two start pleading. Your stomach is churning at the scene as anxiety bubbles dangerously high within your body. You want to run, to hide.

“There seems to be a misunderstanding.” The guard explains but more people begin pleading, crawling and crying. They’re rubbing their hands together desperately and bowing with the deepest respect.

“We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity—“

“Clause three of the consent form!”

Player 456?

“The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Correct?” He retaliates as he walks to the centre of the room, demanding authority. The tension in the air is thick as 456 has a silence standoff with the guards leader.

You swallow nervously, cringing at the loud sound.

“That is correct.” The guard nods slightly.

“Then let’s take a vote right now.” 456 replies with the upmost confidence. You glance between the two, thankful for your higher view.

“Of course.”

The room fills with relieved sighs. Your heart hammers heavily. Surely it cannot be this easy to leave?

I still haven’t found Junhee.

“But first, let me announce the prize amount that has been accumulated.”

Gasps fill the room as the lights dim, followed by the familiar arcade sound of a winning play. A large pig, beaming with a golden ray begins to fill with stacks of money. The sight is eerily dystopian as people’s faces begin to fill with curiosity and amazement instead of dread and disgust.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.”

Horror spikes through your body, pricking you like pins and needles. The money presented is the worth of these individuals. Instead of cash, you see visions of the crumpled corpses lying inside the pig.

I’m getting out of here.

[DAY ONE, ???, EVENING ]

Things had gone south quickly. Once the vote to leave was announced and the guards had the players vote one by one, by number, you watched as the one person you connected with voted to stay. You felt so… betrayed? Hyunju didn’t even look at you once she voted, joining the O side without any thought towards you. You watched from the X side as the people around her didn’t even glance at her yet celebrated others joining the side as they are too absorbed by their transphobic ideologies. A part of you wanted to scream as you watched the O side increase by one. How can she join the O side especially when the purple haired lunatic was screaming and running around proudly?

On the plus side, you found Junhee. She was player 222 and had a look of absolute distraught that you had never seen before. Despite the turbulent emotions of fear, anger and distress, you greeted your friend with a relieved smile and tight hug.

“I’ve been looking for you!” You both whispered, holding back your laughs as you took in each other's faces. You both share a defeated look, though the light in your eyes had brightened since finding Junhee alive.

Now, you followed Junhee to her bed. She was situated on the other side of the room which explained why you had struggle locating the small woman in the spacious cell.

You think back to earlier, how it felt Hyunju turned her back on you. Despite finding your friend, you felt you lost another.

“You chose to stay?” You ask Hyunju with slouched shoulders. The woman, who had previously started walking back to the beds, pauses. It’s almost as if she was trying to run away from the conversation as she must’ve realised you would be pissed at her actions.

‘We were talking about getting out of here less than two hours ago!’ The thought rattles in your head.

A frown presents itself on your face. It feels like the only thing you’ve done since you’ve been here is frown or become overrun by existential fear. Slowly, she turns on her heel.

Her pupils shake as her face contorts through her emotions. A pang of empathy hits your heart at the sight of her glossy eyes.

“I need the money, [y/n].” Her voice is shaky and despite the usual compassion you would feel, her words just irritate you. You both watched people die. You comforted her because she couldn’t save someone. You rubbed the bloody fucking sand off of both of your shoes.

You can’t help but scoff, “Hyunju. People died. That money is only there because people fucking died.”

“You don’t understand.” Hyunju replies. Her voice is still ever so soft and it only serves to annoy you more. How can she be so calm?

“I don’t? You want to keep playing — more people are probably going to die! Then what? You might get to live?” You can’t help it as you begin to raise your tone at her. Hyunju furrows her brows as her patience wears thin.

“I need this money to live. To be me.” She places a hand on her chest sincerely, but her tone is sharp, “To be beautiful.”

A palpable silence bestows you both. Like earlier, a silent standoff begins. You can’t find the words as your mind is reeling.

‘Why do I care so much about this random person?’

Hyunju turns on her heel once more, walking back to her bed. You step forward, speaking loud enough for her to hear.

“You’re beautiful already, unnie.”

A hand is placed on your shoulder. You jump, following the arm to the perpetrators face.

“You scared me.” You whisper, glancing back at your shoes. They’re still beaten, bloodied and still have sand stuck in the crevasses. The sight puts you off the food in your dish despite how your stomach tells out in hunger.

Junhee examines your face, “The person… 120. Are you okay?” She asks. Of course she witnessed your fight with Hyunju as she had been by your side, nervously pulling at your sleeve to get you to walk away. Junhee had never seen you in such a state and to be frank, it scared her quite a bit. She watched the clip of you on the screen too, how afraid and little you looked. It was nothing close to your usual self.

You sigh, “Yeah. I guess.” Pushing yourself from the bed frame, you glance around. Due to everyone circulating in groups it was now easier to spot individual people. It wasn’t hard to find Hyunju sitting by the elderly woman and her son who had previously begged for their lives.

Junhee opens her mouth to speak but you reply swiftly, “We should be in 456’s team.”

She blinks, “Huh?”

“He’s been here before. He won. We should be close to him. We could have a better chance of winning if we don’t get a majority vote out.” You point over at the distraught man. His friend, player 390 seems to be comforting him as he wallows in pity.

“Have this too.” Again, you jump. This time Junhee does too. An extra egg is placed onto her dish by the elderly woman from earlier.

How is she this fast?

She leans in, glancing at you and Junhee. She seems almost nervous or hesitant to speak, causing you to raise a brow.

“You should eat it for your baby, eggs are good for pregnant women.”

Baby!? Junhee is actually pregnant? Also how does this woman know??

“Junhee… You’re actually pregnant?” You ask in a low whisper. Junhee looks like a deer in headlights. Not only had this woman just known about her pregnancy, now you do. After all, she told you she thinks she might be pregnant.

Her pale lips quiver. She’s at a loss for words, staring at you with soulless eyes. You want to cry for her, seeing her in such a state. The usual bubbly girl who helps you make coffees is reduced to a mute state.

The elderly lady tries to crack a smile “I’ve helped more than a dozen women in my neighbourhood deliver their babies. I can tell just by looking at your body shape and the way you walk.”

It’s your turn to blink.

Am I really that stupid that I didn’t notice? Or is she some kind of walking ultrasound machine?

Junhee glances at her food dish. A part of you want to reach out and hold her, tell her she’ll be fine. But it’s not right.

“It looks like your due date is getting close. If you compress your belly to hide it, it’ll be dangerous for both you and your baby.” The elderly woman expresses sincerely. It’s the same pleading face she used when begging the guards to spare her life. Junhee’s situation is dire.

“That’s why you were in pain earlier!”

… She was?

Junhee shakes her head, “It’s not what you think.”

The lady sighs once more. Junhee sounds so dejected and you’re sure she’s thought about this a lot in the past few hours. Would it be safe for her to reveal her pregnancy?

Within seconds the lady is quickly rushed away by her son, pulling her before she can fully say what she wanted to Junhee.

“Junhee… You didn’t tell me?” You ask, looking at hee slumped posture. She stares at the egg placed over her partially eaten rice, toying with it with her spoon.

“I… I didn’t know how. It’s so complicated.” She replies, glancing at you through her bangs. You sigh, placing your food tin in front of you. The elderly woman’s words ring through your mind.

Her belly… She must be in so much pain.

You motion towards her stomach, “How long have you been compressing your belly?” The thought sickens you. How far along had Junhee been when she told you if she has to press it down? Was she testing the waters to your reaction?

“A while…” She whispers as she gathers a bit of rice on her spoon. Slowly, she brings the spoon to her mouth. Your eyes sting with the threat of tears as she shows her vulnerability to you.

You scoot forward, swinging your legs over the bed so you’re sat comfortably beside her. She doesn’t bother to move her head as you place your arm around her. Almost instinctively she leans towards your touch.

You rub her shoulder comfortingly in an attempt to soothe her.

“I’ll take care of you.”

masterlist

[al-1-na]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝟓

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

The first year in New York had been a whirlwind—full of challenges, love, and growth. Drew’s off-Broadway production had been a hit, earning him glowing reviews and even a few new opportunities. Your career had reached new heights, and for a while, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

But slowly, cracks began to form in the life you’d built together.

It started with small things. Drew would come home late from rehearsals, drained from the grind of live performances, and crash onto the couch without saying much. You noticed how the city you once loved—the energy, the chaos—seemed to weigh heavier on you with each passing day. Even weekends together felt rushed, as if you were constantly trying to catch your breath.

One night, as you lay in bed, Drew spoke into the quiet.

“Do you ever feel like… we’re just surviving here?”

You turned to look at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

He stared at the ceiling, his hand resting on yours. “I love being with you, but this city—it’s exhausting. Every day feels like a battle. And I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore.”

His words hit a nerve you hadn’t admitted to yourself. New York had been your dream for so long, but lately, it felt more like a weight than a joy. You’d brushed it off as temporary, as something you’d adjust to, but deep down, you knew Drew was right.

“I’ve been feeling that way, too,” you admitted softly.

Drew turned to you, his blue eyes searching yours. “Then maybe it’s time for a change.”

A few weeks later, the opportunity presented itself.

You’d applied for a position at a production company in Los Angeles on a whim, not expecting anything to come of it. But when the offer came—a dream role with better hours, better pay, and a fresh start—you knew it was a sign.

“I got the job,” you told Drew one evening, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and fear.

He looked up from his script, his eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. That’s amazing!”

“But it’s in L.A.,” you added, your voice quieter now. “I’d have to move.”

Drew set the script down and crossed the room, pulling you into his arms. “Then we’ll move.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve been thinking about it, anyway. Most of my work is out there now, and honestly? I’m ready to leave New York behind if it means being with you. This city isn’t our forever.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you leaned into him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s start over—together.”

The move to Los Angeles felt like a breath of fresh air.

You and Drew found a small house on the west side, tucked away on a quiet street with a lemon tree in the backyard. It wasn’t much, but it was yours, and for the first time in years, you felt like you could finally exhale.

Drew thrived in L.A., landing a role in a new streaming series that allowed him to work steadily without the relentless pressure of stage performances. You loved your new job, and the flexible hours meant you could spend more time together, exploring the city and building a life that felt right.

Evenings were spent cooking dinner in your tiny kitchen, dancing barefoot to old records, and talking about everything and nothing. Weekends meant hikes in the hills, lazy beach days, and impromptu road trips up the coast.

One night, as you sat on the patio under the soft glow of string lights, Drew handed you a glass of wine and sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders.

“Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?” he asked, his voice thoughtful.

You smiled, leaning your head against his chest. “All the time. Sometimes it feels like we’ve lived a dozen lives just to get here.”

Drew tilted your chin up, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m glad we did. Every mistake, every detour—it all led me back to you.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m glad, too. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

He kissed you then, slow and sweet, as if to seal the promise you’d made to each other.

Months turned into a year, and your life in L.A. grew fuller with each passing day. The house felt more like home, filled with laughter, love, and the occasional burnt dinner. You and Drew had found your forever—not in a city, but in each other.

One evening, as the sun set over the Pacific, you stood on the beach together, the waves lapping at your feet. Drew slipped his hand into yours, his fingers warm and familiar.

“I know we’ve talked about not rushing things,” he said, his voice steady. “But I can’t wait anymore.”

You turned to him, your heart pounding as he dropped to one knee, a small velvet box in his hand.

“Y/N, you’re my best friend, my partner, and the love of my life. I want to keep building this crazy, beautiful life with you—forever. Will you marry me?”

Tears streamed down your face as you nodded, your voice breaking. “Yes. A million times, yes.”

Drew slipped the ring onto your finger and stood, pulling you into his arms as the crowd around you cheered.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, you knew this was it.

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @maybanksgirl69 @raeven-marie43 @niktwazny303

[grimmweepers]

— ★ contents: dottore x gn!reader. DARK CONTENT AHEAD. DUBCON. degradation. humiliation. masturbation (dottore). boot licking. his shoe on your head. dom/sub dynamics. yandere themes. light choking. no sex. reader has no dialogue. just mean mean dottore. 0.8k. | MDNI. 18+ ONLY | masterlist

( inspired by this art )

Your mother always told you to be careful of the choices you made in life.

“The world is not as kind as you are,” she’d say, thumbing your cheek as though the action itself could shield you from everything cruel.

She would've never approved of leaving home to work for someone like Dottore. Stories of the Harbingers were infamous enough to bleed across their nation's borders and there was no doubt that beneath the surface lay tales far worse than what meets the eye. 

Yet there was no stopping you. Not when he dangled promises in front of you like a forbidden fruit too sweet to resist. “Imagine what you could accomplish under me,” he’d said as if he wasn’t going to trample all your rights in the future.

And you, foolish and full of ambition, had leaped at the chance.

If your mother could see you now…

The thought lingered like a bitter aftertaste as you knelt on the cold, sterile floor of his laboratory. Your cheek pressed against the smooth leather of Dottore’s boot and the weight of it on your head sent a sliver of shame down your spine. 

“You left everything behind to be here,” he mused as he adjusted the angle of his foot. “Tell me, was it worth it?”

You wanted to say no. To scream it, actually. But you felt like you were choking on the consequences of your own choices and worse yet, the humiliation didn’t feel as humiliating as it should’ve been. That part was worrying. 

He tilted his head at you, “Not so talkative now, are we?” His gloved hand reached down, tracing along your jaw before sliding back to clutch his own arousal.

“Pathetic,” he sneered. The toe of his boot nudged your chin, forcing your head upward. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

The intensity of his crimson eyes burned into you, setting fire to whatever shreds of dignity you had left. You wondered what your mother would think if she saw you reduced to this. 

“You’ve been testing my patience lately,” he continued, almost conversationally, as if he weren’t holding you down with his foot. “But I think you like being punished. Isn’t that right?”

“I—” you stammered, but his boot pressed down, silencing you. But even as shame curled in your stomach, you hated the spark of heat that flickered beneath it. 

“Don’t speak,” he ordered. “I’m not interested in excuses.”

“You’ll write to your mother eventually, won’t you?” he mocked you with a grin. “What will you tell her? That you’ve found your purpose? That you’ve devoted yourself to something... meaningful?” A deep hum of pleasure escaped his lips as he palmed his growing bulge, relishing in the poor sight of you.

Within a second, he answered for you first. “Ah, no. That’s not quite right. You haven’t accomplished anything yet...” Dottore chuckled. “But you could. All it takes is for you to follow my lead which, frankly, you’ve been failing at.” 

“W—” He cut off your protest before it could even form.

The pressure increased. “I said don’t speak,” he snapped. “If you want to prove yourself, use that tongue for something worthwhile.”

He lifted his boot slightly, the toe brushing against your lips. Hesitant, you let your tongue dart out, licking at the leather. A small string of saliva ran down your chin, but you didn’t stop. You lapped at the boot like your life depended on it, the bitterness of the polish staining your tongue.

Above you, Dottore hummed again as his hand slid to his belt, the sound of his unbuckling loud in the silence of the room. He began to stroke himself through the confines, where it was twitching terribly as if your tongue was on the real thing. “See…” He groaned softly, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock through the fabric. “Obediency suits you.”

A heavy knot coiled deep inside you, warring with something far more sinister that made the area between your legs clench and ache.

The boot slowly withdrew, leaving your lips tingling. As Dottore suddenly crouched down, his gloved hand gripped your chin to examine your flushed face. His touch was deceptively warm, a stark difference from the icy daggers in his glare. 

“You’ll do more for me, won’t you?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. It felt familiar to your mother's touch, only this time the hand that held you came from everything she tried to protect you from.

Since the memory of his prior reprimands kept you silent, you remembered to nod your answer this time.

“Good,” he gave you a type of smile that made your gut churn. Your breath quickened as his hand slid lower, his fingers wrapping lightly around your throat. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Good,” he repeated. His grin widened as he saw the conflict in your eyes—the shame, the desire, the submission.

“Now strip,” he demanded, leaving no room for argument. “And get on the examination table.” 

If your mother could see you now, she’d weep for the person you’d become. But for the first time, you weren’t sure if you could weep with her.

You had chosen this.

And now, you were his to be studied under his ever watchful eye, molded into something you shouldn’t admit you craved.

© 2025 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

divider: @/adornedwithlight

I HOPE ITS OK TO TAG YOU IK IVE BEEN TEASING YOU ABOUT IT FOR SOME TIME @unriding >:)

[minkieater]

one dream, one city, two boys, endless possibilities ✮

FIVE ➺ the friendsgiving

masterlist

thanksgiving is about expressing gratitude for what you have, who you love, all of the blessings in your life that make it worth living. friendsgiving was a tradition to your group, a time to be together, to celebrate one another and cherish the bond you’d made over the years — does choi san want to be included, or change the meaning of friendsgiving for the rest of your lives?

w. angst, shit show below the cut good luck! also weed lol 7.3k

jeongin’s apartment was spacious, that much was clear — but fitting fourteen people in one place for a sit down dinner deemed itself near impossible. you’d done it last year, but you only had ten compared to this year’s addition, four extra people that you had invited. 

yunho, his girlfriend and wooyoung who insisted he bring san, despite your argument. he yelled he’s so miserable he needs to be surrounded by people over the phone and you argued, saying he didn’t look too miserable in my apartment the other day, but wooyoung insisted, fuck the logic of it all. you agreed after a moment of silence — everyone could act like adults for a couple hours, right?

the tree lighting ceremony which you attended after dinner was the real celebration anyways, friendsgiving was just the pregame. being on november twenty ninth, it was after thanksgiving yet far before christmas, a night that held the beloved tradition you’d created amongst the ten of you. for you and jeongin especially, but also for you, riley, and the other seven boys you’d grown to look at like siblings over the past three years. 

last year it was hectic, especially trying to get anyone to try and cook in the massive kitchen of the loft. you and riley attempted a turkey even though the two of you had never cooked one – riley just helped her dad who reigned the kitchen all her life and your mother had kept herself in the kitchen for hours ignoring anyone’s attempt to help your whole life — just like she did with everything. always to herself, worried only about herself, not a single care for anyone around her, even her family. 

you had no idea what it took to roast a turkey. you’d read tons of recipes, watched youtube videos, last year you really thought you had it in the bag. that was until you realized you hadn’t thawed the turkey properly… it did not cook in time for dinner, and you were not missing the tree lighting ceremony. you all feasted on side dishes instead, store bought and handmade (thanks to hyunjin and changbin), you had a plethora of options spread out across the entire kitchen and living room. 

the tradition of the tree lighting ceremony was a big deal for your group. riley and chan hated the entire idea when it was initially discussed, the crowd, the volume, just being in manhattan in general — with the rest of you besides felix begging the two to go the next year, for the ceremony to be the one thing they bend their rules for, they agreed. they found it heartwarming after some thought to have something so special, an entire event just for your friend group, to celebrate your years of friendship despite the discomfort of it all. plus… yours and jeongin’s anniversary, the place where you’d started dating, the event that he asked you to be his girlfriend at two years ago.

you should be ecstatic, filled to the brim with excitement to spend today with your closest friends, your boyfriend. there was christmas music playing throughout the apartment, the four roommates had decorated the space with snowmen and fairy lights and mistletoe, the apartment was filled with every holiday-induced feeling: joy, love, laughter filling the air. this holiday was huge for you and your friend group, the most special one of them all, yet one issue stood tall for you. there was a massive elephant in the room and it was not the lifesize reindeer chan bought from an estate sale months ago. 

you and jeongin weren’t exactly on good terms but you weren’t necessarily on bad terms, either. you hated gray, you hated in between, you hated whatever the fuck was between you right now. when you arrived, you’d received a happy two years with a kiss on the cheek, but no longer than a second of eye contact, no hug, no smile. you’d left last night after hours spent groveling damn near at his feet, begging for forgiveness for not putting him first, swearing to him that you’d change. he forgave you, but how much can be done with any actual proof of your efforts – any action?

only time would tell, and the real issue still stood – the one place where you couldn’t agree. in hindsight, it really was simple – but mingi’s words sat heavily in the back of your head. 

you deserve better – more. if he doesn’t get it now, he never will.

the words rang in your head like a catchy commercial, a sing-song of dread that wrapped around your head like the soundtrack to a carousel. you agreed with him, it made sense – if jeongin doesn’t understand your schedule now, it will only get worse, if he can’t put himself in your shoes then why would you give him any more pieces of you? why are you beating around the bush if he’s not in it until the end, he said he wanted to marry you – but he can’t handle your schedule? the schedule that will just only get worse? mingi said it, hongjoong said it, it had to be the truth, coming from two people who have experienced this already. 

does he listen to your songs, give you advice, tell you how good he thinks you are? did he push you to get an internship? does he give you advice about your schoolwork? does he even know you’re falling behind in school?

you still couldn’t see it clearly, this wasn’t black and white. the gray area you hated so much was how much you love him, how you know every single part of jeongin that makes him himself, every trait you’ve spent the past two years falling in love with. he knows the same about you, he’s your other half – and you’re arguing about a fucking schedule change? mingi said it himself, you spent too much time at the label already, you need to create boundaries. these people are your life, your best friends, your family… how are you going to give that up? it was fucking war in your mind. 

“girl, you haven’t stirred the potatoes in at least three minutes, what’s good with you?” han came up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, putting his hands over yours that held the wooden spoon and the bowl, beckoning you to relax.

“jesus, ki, it’s not going to run away from you,” he continued, loosening up your fingers’ grip on the spoon. you let go of both the bowl and the spoon, then quickly wiped your hands on the bright pink apron you found in the pantry – felix’s.

“i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you shook your head, shaking him off of you, letting a controlled breath out from deep in your lungs. you didn’t know how long you were standing there, staring straight ahead, tight grip on the utensil. 

“you okay?” he asked as you both turned to face each other, he moved to your side with his eyebrows furrowed, big doe eyes staring at you with concern. 

“i’m fine,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, definitely not a convincing one, you hoped he didn’t notice. you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, letting out a forced chuckle, “no biggie, don’t worry. i’m just in my head.”

“i heard about you and jeongin,” han frowns, leaning his hip against the counter – there was fortunately no one else in the kitchen, everyone dispersed throughout the apartment, maybe out smoking on the rooftop. 

“word travels fast, huh?” you gave another forced smile, turning your attention back to the potatoes, grabbing the spoon to keep stirring. it was a clear display of disinterest in the topic at hand, you hoped he’d drop it, but knowing him – he did not. 

“with us? yeah,” he paused, racking his brain to figure out how to articulate himself properly, “i don’t think you guys have ever fought like this, but me and minho went through something similar the first time he had intensives – he was so exhausted he barely had time for me for a month, i nearly lost my fucking mind.”

you watched as tattooed fingers grip around the spoon a little harder, white knuckles a hard contrast against the deep wood, the digits not seeming much like yours anymore. “hanji, no offense but this is the last thing i want to hear–”

“you didn’t let me finish,” he put a hand on your shoulder, and your neck craned to see him, keeping your body facing the bowl. he had a weak smile, his eyes still filled with uncertainty, maybe a bit of apprehension as he spoke. “i expressed my concern and he changed. he made the time, when intensives were over he made sure to spend almost an entire week with me, nearly uninterrupted.”

a pit grew in your stomach, white hot rage bubbling up inside of you, “isn’t that beautiful? how kind he is to you, jisung.” sarcasm dripped from your words, a fake smile sitting on your cheeks, you could feel your ears turning red – somehow you gripped the spoon harder, wood threatening to snap under your grip. 

“he fucking loves you, dude, he’s told us too many times, too many drunken nights spent up there saying i love ki i’m going to marry her,” han shrugged, turning away from you, walking around the marble island with his eyes trained on yours. last christmas flowed through the kitchen, the sweet melody of the song a harsh contradiction to the rage that consumed you, the song somehow making you angrier. 

you continued stirring the side dish again, whipping the potatoes a little too aggressively as your blood pumped in your ears, “did he send you here to talk to me or something?”

“no, god no,” han shook his head, standing across from you, both of his arms stretched out across the island, leveling him as he stood at the counter that came just above his hips. 

you snapped – you think it would’ve been better if jeongin had sent him. “so you’re just sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” your tone was just as harsh as your words – you could see han’s face twinge, his eyebrows shoot up, his lips parting to speak. you cut him off. “did he tell you he threatened to break up with me because i’m not sleeping with him enough?”

han stayed silent, shaking his head back and forth, those big doe eyes full of shock – you’ve never snapped at any of them before, never spoken with such anger. you needed air. 

you took a breath before you spoke, calming your tone to ease both han and yourself, “i’m glad minho made you feel better and made more time for you after his intensives but my job is a little bit different,” you made a pinching motion with your fingers on your free hand, “i’m in a transitional period, that’s all. trying to figure out time for school and myself and jeongin, it’ll get better, we won’t break up. don’t worry.”

han nodded, not giving you much of a verbal answer, his eyes still full of worry and surprise. your head sank with your eyes shut tight, your patience was running thin – you were tired of talking about this, with jeongin, with riley, with mingi – now han? you dropped the spoon, let go of the bowl, then wiped your hands on your apron again. 

“i’m sorry for snapping, hanji, i’m just stressed,” your words were choked, hands reaching to cup your makeup-covered cheeks, praying your cold palms would cool down the heat in your face. you left the kitchen in a hurry, not waiting for his answer, ignoring everyone in the living room, making a beeline for the back door. you raced up the steps to the rooftop, the cold november air slapping you across the face, pulling your anger from deep in your core right to the surface. 

“you alright?” riley was quick to approach you, feet skipping in your direction from where she stood along the rooftop with chan, hyunjin and changbin. the white in her eyes had turned red, they were smaller, glossed over — they were definitely smoking. 

you let the door shut behind you, letting your head fall back against the metal, letting a breath out from deep in your lungs. you were tired of this topic of conversation – jeongin wasn’t even around and you were still discussing the status of your relationship. tears quickly stemmed, traveling to the front of your face with a passion, dancing along your waterline. 

“oh shit, what the hell happened? jeongin?” she asked, hands on your biceps with a concerned look, small eyes wide, searching yours for an answer. you lifted your index fingers under your eyes, trying to stop the tears from ruining your makeup, you didn’t need everyone to know what you were doing up here. you didn’t answer, you focused on steadying your breathing, trying to stop the breakdown before it really started. 

you took another deep breath before answering, “i just snapped at hanji  in the kitchen, he was talking to me about jeongin.” 

the confession only made the tears fall quicker, they piled over your waterline, over your fingers, skipping over your digits and onto the ground beneath you. you tried not to cry cry, letting the tears fall but you kept your breathing steady, fighting not to break into a full out sob. 

“why was he giving his two cents on your relationship?” riley scrunched up her face, rubbing your arms, “that’s not his place, your snap was valid.”

you bent forward, hands braced on your knees, keeping your face level to the ground – if tears were going to fall, better they fall directly to the ground. 

“fuck,” you cursed under your breath, “i’m so over it, ri.”

riley moved to your side, her back against the door, rubbing small circles on your back. “you’re under a lot of stress dude, that’s perfectly understandable. you talked to jeongin at all today?”

you shook your head, “he kissed my cheek when i got here and said happy anniversary, but he’s been drinking with san and minho and the rest of them in the living room since.”

riley sucked in a breath through her teeth. “we’re both in trouble today,” her words were quiet, almost under her breath, no doubt so chan couldn’t hear. you took a pause, thinking about her words, then a laugh escaped your lips. 

you both paused for a moment and you turned your head to look up to her, the both of you falling into giggles. you were in this together, in more ways than she knew. 

christmas music continued to fill the air of the apartment, the lingering stench of skunk from your clothes mixed with the smell of the stuffed turkey cooking in the oven, you were feeling a million times better. chan approached you apprehensively on the rooftop, the joint in his hand, a peace offering to show you he wasn’t on either side nor in the middle. no, chan was a friend, and you needed as many of those as you could get right now. you took a hit to relax you, the weed filling your lungs was much better than the breaths you were forcing, the brief high grounded you. 

you were able to head back to the kitchen, tears long gone, apron still tied with hyunjin following you around like a lost puppy. he didn’t approach you on the rooftop until you were smiling, your eyes red and slightly smaller, he let riley and chan whip you back into shape until he felt it was okay for him to take his turn to cheer you up. he stood with you at the stove, a pan full of vegetables in front of you, handing you each ingredient you asked for with a hushed giggle because the appearance of oregano was similar to what you’d just been smoking – “do you think seungmin keeps his stash here to hide it from the others?”

it was just oregano, that you knew, but you bursted into a fit of giggles anyway at the silliness of his question. if anyone could help your mind drift somewhere else, it was hyunjin.

riley and chan joined you in the kitchen, riley had picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes and finished what you had started, mixing the bowl while her and chan giggled to themselves. changbin, yunho and aera lingered in the kitchen looking for snacks but ended up in a deep discussion about the history of EDM music. yunho glanced at you with a weary eye every few minutes, knowing exactly what was up even if you didn’t explicitly say it. knowing han, he probably told everyone in the apartment the second you ran up the stairs. 

and still, jeongin has not spoken to you – hadn’t even glanced up from his spot on the couch when you returned from the rooftop. 

“are there more millers in the fridge?” you turned around at the easily recognizable voice, riley looking up at the same time you turned. san stood in the empty space that was the entrance to the kitchen, empty bottle in his hand, looking around the room with raised eyebrows.

“yeah, man, in here,” yunho said from his spot next to changbin, the pair stood next to the stainless steel. yours and riley’s eyes both seemed to follow him from his spot all the way to the fridge, you cringed, the hairs on your arms threatening to stand tall. 

it was so… uncomfortable. riley and chan have been harmonious all day, you’ve always known chan is a perfect gentleman but seeing him with riley was something else entirely. holding doors open, drinking from her straw, finishing her sentences, moving a stray hair from her face, it was so domestic – like they’d been together for years. to put yourself in san’s shoes, to watch her with someone else after he’d spent so much time with her was painful. 

to make it all worse – san knew every single detail, but chan did not. riley probably felt how you did whenever mingi was on the rooftop – that feeling you knew all too well. 

“don’t forget to stir, princess,” hyunjin said from beside you and it snapped you back into reality, you quickly moved the vegetables around on the pan, scooping the liquid from the pan and draping it over the vegetables. by the time they were done, you were tired of standing and your mouth was dry – the weed had done more than just calm you down. you quickly walked over to the fridge, past yunho, aera and changbin to crack open a beer for yourself. 

“keeks,” changbin wandered over to the fridge, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him. in a brown sweater that hugged every single muscle on his broad chest, he looked delectable. he put one arm up on the fridge, using it as leverage as he crossed one leg over the other, standing tall against the height of the fridge.

you raised your eyebrows, sipping your beer, prompting him to continue without a verbal response. 

“about jeongin…” he started, looking everywhere but in your eyes, his voice soft but uneasy. your eyes shot wide – this cannot be fucking happening again. 

“ah!” was yelled across the kitchen, a sound of annoyance, a sound that meant shut the fuck up. riley had a finger up in front of her, wiggling it back and forth – her eyes just as wide as yours but full of assertion. “we will not be doing that anymore tonight, get over here and cut up some butter.”

a wide smile racked across your face, your cheeks feeling sore at this point. god, you fucking loved that girl. you shot her a grateful look, nodding with a tight lipped smile, and made your way right back to hyunjin. 

“...and that’s why i told you to keep your mouth shut about it, it’s none of our business,” minho said, his voice coming clearer as he walked into the kitchen right behind han. 

everyone’s heads turned to look at the pair who stopped in their tracks, everyone’s expression utterly fucking blank. a laugh bubbled in your throat, one you couldn’t help from spilling out, one that filled the open space of the room that was just so uncomfortably silent. everyone’s heads turned to you, all sixteen eyes wide.

“should we sit in a circle and discuss it as a group at this point? someone call jeongin in here, too,” the words slipped from your lips so carelessly, irritation clear in your words, your entire body vibrating as you spoke. if everyone was going to talk about it amongst themselves, without the two people the situation was even about, fuck it – why not talk about it with everyone instead?

you couldn’t stub your toe without everyone knowing, it was the only negative part of your friend group, an aspect that wasn’t inherently negative all the time. here, today, on the most important day for everyone… it felt like your friends really fucking sucked. 

jeongin’s head popped right around minho’s, copper curls a stark contrast to minho’s dark ones. his eyebrows were raised at the mention of his name, clearly not knowing at all what you guys were talking about. 

“call me for what?” he asked as he made his way through the kitchen, no one moved an inch, eight pairs of eyes trained on his red tee as he made it to the fridge. “just need a beer,” he still had an eyebrow raised, and yet no one spoke a word. “why are you guys acting so fucking weird?”

everyone went back to what they were doing moments prior, as if nothing happened at all. you turned around, facing hyunjin again, hands immediately going to cool down your cheeks again. you whispered what the fuck under your breath about six times, then ran a hand through your hair. 

hyunjin put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it before he whispered, “he’s gone now.” he looked around the kitchen before his eyes settled on changbin, then his eyes went wide, “oh shit, bin, please tell me you remembered the apple pie, i think we forgot it on the table.”

the turkey was ready on time this year – you were shocked. the air smelled so delicious, it was as if martha stewart herself came to this apartment and cooked you all a gourmet thanksgiving dinner. from all the barefoot contessa episodes of food network you’d been watching before bed the last week, you felt as if you really learned something, you couldn’t believe you planned out everything perfectly with ingredients, timing, the amount of food, everything. this had to be your and riley’s best work yet. 

it wasn’t just you and riley in the kitchen all day — there was also felix, seungmin, yunho and aera when they arrived, changbin, hyunjin, wooyoung even came in the kitchen to whip up the cranberry sauce. from stuffing to sweet potato casserole, you felt like you were doing the true american thanksgiving, not only participating in it but you actually cooked a lot of it from scratch. if your parents knew, they’d be shocked, too, maybe even proud of you. 

one more problem still remained: fitting fourteen people to sit down and eat it all. the apartment was massive, there was an incredible amount of space, the roommates fit tons of people on the rooftop every other weekend – but fitting them inside? 

there was one dining table that seats six, eight if you brought over the lawn chairs from the rooftop, but that still left six people standing or in a whole other room. the open floor plan of the apartment made it so there weren’t really rooms, but the living room was still far enough from the dining room that it was awkward. last year, you all ended up standing, only seungmin and han sat down at the table – with just appetizers it didn’t give off the sit-down vibe. this year you had a display of food, the plates themselves took up most of the table space. 

seungmin, felix, yunho, aera, han and minho were already seated – you left the other two seats up to hyunjin and changbin. that left riley, chan, san, wooyoung, jeongin and you in the kitchen, a terrible combination, probably the worst mix of people that could’ve ended up together. 

wooyoung’s cheeks were bright red and his chest matched, his button down shirt that had three buttons left open exposed the amount of beers he had already consumed – also the fact that he was the only other person in the room that knew everything. he kept catching your eye, trying not to smile, but you could tell he was about to burst. you just prayed he kept it in. 

“are we just gonna stand awkwardly around the table, or eat in here?” riley asked, her eyes continuously darting around the room. you could see in her eyes and the flush on her cheeks that matched wooyoung’s, she was feeling the same way as you were, discomfort, uneasy about what comes next. she kept shifting her weight from leg to leg, bouncing back and forth from each side of the island, cleaning up the area that had already been cleaned as best it could.

“it’s like the kid’s table,” wooyoung giggled to himself, “but instead of the kid’s table it’s the outcast island.”

you raised an eyebrow toward him, you were sure everyone did, your heart picking up a beat. maybe you were being paranoid – he wouldn’t expose anything, not here, not now.

“what do you mean?” jeongin asked from across the island – you hadn’t even pulled out plates for yourselves yet. 

“this is a crazy group of people,” wooyoung shrugged, sipping the beer he held in his hands, chipped nail polish perfectly matching the frayed label of the bottle. san laughed from his side, turning around to face the fridge so no one caught his chuckle – everyone did. your heartbeat quickened, widening your eyes in a please shut up kind of way, and wooyoung just laughed as he caught your eye.

“why is it crazy?” chan asked, looking around the room before he bent down to riley’s ear and whispered way too fucking loud, “is he talking about jeongin and ki? i thought that topic was off limits for the rest of the night?”

your head went into your palm, eyes shut tight, muttering a jesus fucking christ under your breath.

riley looked around the room, completely ignoring chan, “you guys should go get some food.” she nudged chan’s side, her eyes saying that means you, too. she looked to you with wide eyes and used her head to nod toward the hallway leading towards jeongin and chan’s bedrooms, you gave one nod of your chin back in understanding, following her through the space of the apartment as the others left for the dining room.

“i can’t do this,” her voice was hushed, shaky and stressed. her eyes were wide, her hands sat on the sides of her head pushing her hair back, “chan and san both in the same room, i can’t do it. then wooyoung made that comment and san laughed? i’m freaking out, ki.”

“i know, i know, i’m sorry, breathe,” you kept your eye contact strong as you breathed with her, taking a soothing breath from all the way in your stomach before you continued, “i’ll tell wooyoung to shut the fuck up and stop being so obvious. i don’t know what’s going on, i’m sorry.”

“chan isn’t ready to date yet and i know that, i–” she shut her eyes, taking another deep breath, “this is the last place i want him to find out i’m still sleeping with san.”

“he doesn’t want to date yet?” your eyes were wide with surprise, you didn’t know this, you and riley still haven’t discussed the whole thing. she whined, a high pitched noise slipping from her lips, her hands immediately going back in her hair.

“he’s still freaked out about that eden girl who cheated on him,” she answered quickly, “but i’m not even mad because i can’t exactly let go of san, either.”

“oh shit, ri,” a laugh escaped your throat, “we really need to talk this shit out.” 

“i know, but now isn’t the time or place,” she sighed, “now i’m panicking that his plan was to expose me or something by coming here.”

“i really don’t think san would do that,” you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowing. you couldn’t begin to understand how san felt, but knowing san, he wouldn’t deliberately hurt anyone – it’s not in his character.

“then why would wooyoung say that? they’re playing with fire, ki, you heard them,” she was whisper-yelling now, her hand shooting out in the direction of the living room outside of the hallway. 

“i do not think wooyoung and san would come here just to expose you to chan, ri,” you put your hands on her shoulders, “wooyoung wouldn’t do that to me and san wouldn’t do that to you.”

“i hope you’re right,” her eyes closed, a hand going through her hair again, “i can’t handle losing chan for this stupid of a fucking reason, i think if chan found out it would push him over the edge and he’d never trust a woman again. i need to end things with san – again.”

“i don’t think i was supposed to hear any of that.”

your heads whipped behind you, a figure stood at the end of the dim hallway, and the whole world went silent. chan stood with his jaw locked, his hands in fists at his sides, his eyes unreadable – you’d never seen chan anything but happy, maybe stressed during midterm and finals season, but never this. never anger. 

“chan,” riley choked out, a hand clasping over her mouth, “i–”

he took a step closer, you felt so fucking small between them. you took a step back toward the wall, giving them space, removing yourself from their eyeview, from the situation entirely. 

“i came over here to see if you were okay,” he hissed out with furrowed eyebrows, “did not expect to find out you’re fucking the guy that was just snickering in the fucking kitchen.”

“chan, i did not want you to find out this way,” riley started, and you side stepped, wanting to get out of the hallway – this was between them now. her eyes panned to you, wide and full of shock, fear, something else you couldn’t decipher. it meant please don’t go. 

“you didn’t want me to find out at all,” he laughed, a sarcastic chuckle so dark you’d never heard anything like it leave his lips before. 

“that’s not true,” riley shook her head, her voice small, “i’m so sorry.”

“i spent hours telling you how terrible she made me feel, how fucking awful it was finding out she cheated on me, i went in detail on what that did to me, ri,” his voice cracked, his shoulders slumped. chan wasn’t just angry – chan was sad. 

his words stuck with you – your eyes couldn’t leave him. his words hit directly in your gut, your soul – chan and eden were together for something like six months? and her cheating on him affected him this much… guilt sat in your stomach. 

“i know, i should’ve been honest from the start, i’m so sorry,” tears welled up in riley’s eyes, “i should’ve told you.”

“what goes on?” seungmin’s head peeked around the corner, eyeing the three of you, his eyes curious. you all turned to look at him and his eyes widened, “oh shit, what the hell happened?”

“riley’s been fucking san,” chan didn’t look at seungmin as he said it, he kept his eyes trained on riley as he spoke, his jaw locked again. 

“come on, chan,” you interjected, “gonna let the whole house know?”

they both turned to you, riley’s eyes full of tears, chan’s pained expression told you that you should’ve kept your mouth shut. 

“why not? she did it,” he looked at you as if that was the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, his words still coming out choked. how could you forget? if one of them knows something, they all know it. seungmin, like a messenger pigeon, was gone from the hallway the second the words left chan’s lips. 

you shut your eyes tight – this was so fucking bad. you didn’t know how you were going to go out there and face everyone after this, were you even going to make it to the tree lighting? you wouldn’t do it without riley, it was too important, she was the one who introduced you to them in the first place. 

“i really thought you were it, ri. thought we were it,” chan shook his head, snapping you back into focus, and a sob left riley’s lips, her tears free falling now. 

“you don’t even want to date me, chan, how were we it?” she asked through her sobs, a fire of her own starting to burn, her face increasingly more red as the conversation continued. 

“i want to, i’m just not ready, it doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen,” his voice got louder, it was strained, full of frustration, the veins in his neck becoming more visible. he was trying to keep his own emotions to a minimum.

“and what, i’m just supposed to wait for you to get over it? wait for you to be sure about me?” the volume of her voice matched his, a sharp edge to it, she was getting pissed. a smile threatened to break on your face, that’s your riley.

“no, riley, what? there was no waiting, i– we’re together every fucking day. i just wasn’t ready for a title,” he was talking with his hands now, stumbling over his words. she caught him, she hit checkmate.

“if we’re together every day then we should’ve had a title, chan. if there’s no title then i’m single,” her smile was victorious through her tears, “if i’m single i can do as i please, right now i just want to eat the dinner i just spent hours making.”

with that, she maneuvered past him, grabbing your wrist to pull you through the end of the hallway. you stayed quiet – you didn’t know what to say other than what the fuck just happened? a sadness sat in your stomach, a mixture of the thought of riley going through all of this alone and the pain chan was feeling from not only eden but also riley sleeping with someone else. 

you made your plates in silence, the dinner table eerily quiet as riley slammed food on her plate, not at all careful about hitting the metal spoons against the ceramic. makeup stained her cheeks in lines of tears, her sniffles the loudest thing in the room. you followed along quietly, your face blank, santa claus is coming to town by justin bieber lingering in the background, tension so painfully thick in the air the situation was almost laughable. almost. chan followed momentarily after, standing to the side with his jaw locked again, his eyes red and glossy. everyone already knew, but even if they didn’t, it was so fucking obvious what had just happened – you wanted to grab riley and make a run for it. 

as she put a biscuit on her plate, she turned to the table and smiled, “should we all say what we’re thankful for?”

everyone stared at her for a moment before they nodded in agreement, small mumbles of ‘yes’ and ‘totally’ slipping through. you were on edge, you didn’t know how to handle her right now, didn’t know what she was thinking and that made you panic.

“i’ll go first,” she smiled, standing at the head of the table, the warm, dim lighting catching the streaks on her face that were still wet, “i’m thankful for being alive, being healthy, and especially thankful for choi san’s stroke game.”

you gasped, everyone fucking gasped, a snort left your nose. her face was blank, she was so serious, you glanced to chan whose gaze was so pointed at san you were grateful looks couldn’t kill. 

“i’ll go next, then,” chan declared from his spot to the side of her, behind han, and everyone’s eyes moved together – this was so not good. “i’m thankful for my friends, my family, the meal, and i’m thankful to be single, not dating another fucking cheater.” 

“cheater?” a laugh escaped riley’s lips, “we were never fucking dating!”

“ki, do something,” jeongin quietly said from beside you, when he got there you weren’t exactly sure. your face grew hot under his gaze, you hadn’t looked at him in the eyes in so long.

“ki can’t do anything,” san said from across the table, stood behind hyunjin and changbin, then sipped his beer casually. all of the blood drained from your face, you stayed quiet.

“can’t call out your friend for cheating when you’re a cheater yourself, right?” your world fucking stopped when the words left san’s lips. wooyoung turned to him with wide eyes, yunho’s head snapped up from the table. everyone else gasped again. 

“i– what the fuck are you talking about?” you snapped, your eyebrows furrowed. you looked to jeongin beside you who’s eyes wouldn’t leave san, the blood drained from your face, you couldn’t breathe. you needed to stay calm.

“continue,” jeongin’s chin jutted up to san, his voice entirely too natural. he didn’t seem stressed or upset at all. you glanced to riley who stared at you with wide eyes, her lips parted. you couldn’t read her.

“wooyoung and i are roommates, ki, you think i don’t know?” san laughed to himself, sipping his beer again. his stance was casual, one hand in his pocket and one hand wrapped around his beer as if he wasn’t ruining your life. riley was right about san coming here to expose, but she wasn’t right in who he was exposing. 

“i didn’t tell him anything, whatever he’s about to say is a lie,” wooyoung’s words came out fast, rushed, shaky – a lie no one would believe. 

“that night you spent in the studio with mingi? you know, your coworker?” san raised his eyebrows, his head cocked to the side, “come on, ki, i know you know what i’m talking about. you just told wooyoung on thursday.”

your breathing quickened, your face probably beat red with how much heat you were feeling. your reply came out just like wooyoung’s rebuttal, too quick, too shaky to be true, “you’re a liar.”

“no he’s not,” jeongin sipped his beer, “makes sense why you’re at the label so much then, huh? spending time with your other boyfriend?”

he finally looked at you – his eyes were cold as ice. so detached, so far away, there was no anger – there was just a wall. you could throw up everywhere. 

“jeongin, he’s fucking lying–”

“you and yunho both, actually, i guess riley, too. bunch of cheaters,” san shook his head with a tsk, “aera, if you didn’t know, yunho cheated on his girlfriend of four years to be with you.”

aera turned to yunho with an eyebrow raised, “i knew it, that’s why we went to a hotel? you never had roommates, did you?”

you turned back to jeongin who’d already begun walking toward his bedroom, too much leisure in his step, too much calm compared to what you felt – you were going to be sick. mingi’s words hang in your head again. 

you deserve better – more. if he doesn’t get it now, he never will.

“jeongin, please listen to me,” you pleaded, stomach hot, “san doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“then what is he talking about?” jeongin asked, his voice too casual, too cool. he stood in his doorway, the light of his bedroom dim behind him, the hallway even darker, he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. maybe he believed you, maybe he wouldn’t believe san at all. 

“i don’t know, nothing happened with me and mingi,” your shoulders were slumped, your face stoic. you placed the end of a piece of hair between your fingers, jeongin’s eyes immediately catching the action. a laugh escaped his lips. 

“i knew it was some shit like this,” he ran a hand through his hair then shook his head, “please get the fuck out of my apartment.” 

“jeongin, wait,” you moved closer, hand reaching to grab his forearm. he snatched it back, looking up to you with those cold, icy eyes once more. 

“you don’t want to fucking be with me, ki. you don’t want a boyfriend. you want to be a producer, you want to go to shows, hangout with your record label friends, drink at bars in brooklyn on weeknights when you should be doing your fucking homework that i know you haven’t done in weeks, you want to be single. you need to be single.”

you stared at him, your lips parting to speak, but you had nothing to say. no words would come out, even after you willed them to, begged them to. there was nothing you could say to fix this – no words to use as a bandage, a splint, a cast, nothing to hold up a relationship that had already been utterly destroyed. there was no coming back from this. 

you whimpered, a sound of despair, a sound that came from so deep in your chest you didn’t really know if it came from yourself. “i’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your waterline, “i’m so fucking sorry.”

“have fun in LA, safe travels. delete my fucking number please,” he stepped back into his room, a fingers wrapped around his door. he paused, icy eyes meeting yours again, “i would’ve given you everything, you know that right? would’ve made you happy, done anything for you. i hope he can do that for you.”

he shut his bedroom door, his voice didn’t waiver once. you stood, facing his closed door, the dark wood staring at you, mocking you. the walls closed of the hallway closed in on you as you stared back, so many nights you’d spent behind that same door, in bed with him, playing games on his computer, watching tv, so much of your life you’d spent enclosed in the four walls of his bedroom. you’d miss it. 

your eyes were trained on the floor as you walked back towards the living room, you thought maybe you were in shock – two years today. you really weren’t going to the tree lighting after all. 

“ki,” riley whispered, immediately approaching you, wooyoung at her side. 

“i didn’t know he was going to say all of that, i’m so fucking sorry. i thought we were just messing around in the kitchen, i didn’t know that would happen, i’m so sorry,” wooyoung was speaking fast and hushed, words only you and riley could hear. you looked up at him, then realizing your face was wet, tears you didn’t know you had spilled. 

“we have to go,” you choked out, your eyes trained on the floor in front of you again. riley had gotten your bags from the living room, and you were on the sidewalk before you could process how you got there.

two years. he’s a middle child, he can sing, his favorite food is chicken, he hates beans. he was a child model, he’d be a preschool teacher if he wasn’t in school to write musicals. he loves ASMR, he loves watching mukbangs, his favorite color is pink, he loves quality time. he hates being touched by anyone else that isn’t you. you’d spent two years learning all of this, loving all of this – you couldn’t breathe. you couldn’t think. you fucked up.

your phone was ringing, buzzing in your purse, you couldn’t answer it. you couldn’t even reach for it. 

“hey yun, yeah we’re taking her home, i don’t know she hasn’t said a word. okay, meet us there,” wooyoung’s voice felt so far away, you could’ve sworn he was right next to you.

you fucked up, you fucked up, you fucked up. 

i would’ve given you everything, you know that right? would’ve made you happy, done anything for you. i hope he can do that for you.

perm tags @chimivx 😙

[starsreminisce]

For 2024, I decided to read and watch Outlander in its entirety, especially since Jamie has often been a source of inspiration for Lucien, and I’m still in Elucien brainrot to go ahead with it.

It might be confirmation bias, but there are so many parallels between Jamie and Lucien, as well as between Jamie and Claire and Elain and Lucien. While Jamie isn’t exactly Lucien, I do think SJM took inspiration from Jamie for Lucien, and their relationships seem to follow a similar dynamic.

There’s one particular point that really stands out to me, and it feels like a defining moment in Jamie and Claire's relationship, which might also be pivotal for Elain and Lucien’s story.

Spoilers for Outlander ahead:

The central struggle between Elain and Lucien seems to be the same as that between Jamie and Claire: who they are versus who they want to be. In Outlander, Claire and Jamie have several arguments that seem to mirror the tension between Elain and Lucien.

While Jamie and Lucien don’t share the same need for vengeance, Jamie’s proactive nature and his desire to do the right thing align closely with Lucien’s own sense of duty. Over time, Jamie takes on the mantle of leadership, often at the expense of Claire’s desire for a simpler life, and I think this will be a key pain point for Elain and Lucien. One section of Echo in the Bone stuck with me, where Claire finds Jamie almost dead, and he ends up losing a finger. She yells at him for constantly putting himself in danger, asking why he feels the need to do so. This is reminiscent of Lucien volunteering to find Vassa and his decision to live among humans.

In a similar vein, Feyre wonders about Azriel’s motivations, but the difference lies in their reasons. Azriel does it to prove his worth to the Inner Circle, similar to what Gwyn said to Nesta about working hard to earn her place.

Lucien, on the other hand, does it because it feels like the right thing to do. This is shown when Feyre asks him if he would have fought for the humans. Lucien proves his commitment by staying behind to help, even though it’s a dangerous path for a fae.

I busied myself by sorting through my pack until I found the canteen of water. “If you’d been alive for the War,” I asked him, taking a swig, “would you have fought on their side? Or fought for the humans?” “I would have been a part of the human-Fae alliance.” “Even if your father wasn’t?” “Especially if my father wasn’t.” But Beron had been part of that alliance, if I correctly recalled my lessons with Rhys all those months ago.

Lucien’s story is full of loss from his attempts to do the right thing: he lost the Autumn Court when he chose love, his eye when he stood up to Amarantha, he was whipped for his actions in ACOTAR, and he lost his home in the Spring Court due to Tamlin’s ruse.

The concept of the mating bond adds another layer to Elain and Lucien’s connection. The series has established that mates can sense what’s amiss due to their souls being connected. While most mating bonds are between mixed beings, except for Rowan who does have a fake mate storyline, the loss of a mate is profoundly felt, which deepens the story of Elain and Lucien. Elain is aware of this bond, and Nesta even expressed concern about what Lucien’s death would do to Elain.

Bryce described Prythian as wilder, and I cannot help but wonder if that extends to the mating bond. Considering the legend of the Mother pouring the Cauldron into the sea to create the world, it ties the mating bond to the origins of life in Prythian.

Additionally, HOFAS confirms that the mating bond is from a higher being. The book suggests that the Cauldron itself was merely a tool wielded by the Mother, a vessel for her power rather than its source.

Elain could be avoiding Lucien due to the bond’s intensity and the overwhelming need to come to terms with what it means to be mated to him. The mating bond forces her to confront not only her connection to Lucien but also her own identity and who she becomes through that bond. While Elain may appear the most secure in her identity compared to her sisters, being mated to someone like Lucien pushes her to face parts of herself she may not yet be ready to explore.

This mirrors Claire, a WW2 nurse and 1960s doctor who is also a time traveler, reconciling what it means to be with a Scottish Highlander during a volatile period of history: the Battle of Culloden and the American Revolution. We see glimpses of this struggle compared to what Claire, and even Bree, are used to with Frank, who is Jamie’s antithesis. It feels as though SJM wants to explore something similar through Elain and Lucien.

Lucien constantly places himself in dangerous situations out of his desire to do what’s right, but we know from ACOSAF that Elain and Lucien need to figure out who they are before they can fully accept the mating bond.

In ACOSF, we see them aligning toward this goal: Lucien has shown his inherent dominance, a key trait of a High Lord, and is linked to the humans through Vassa and Jurian. Elain, meanwhile, has shown her willingness to seek the trove, even if it means putting herself in danger for the right reasons.

That’s the beauty of Elain and Lucien’s story. Both of them are helping each other realize and eventually accept who they are meant to be, just like Jamie and Claire in Outlander.

[god-o-bees]

Nikto X Krueger X Reader

Pt3 NSFW

Female Reader

This is a longer one😅

Oh god, they had fucked.

You could smell it on them the next day. It was unmistakable, their scents were all mixed together- they hadn't even showered. You kept your head down. Nikto probably wouldn't remember you, or even care. Krueger seemed happy with this new development, and may not ever need to talk to you again.

It didn't matter to them how you felt, of course. Besides, you didn't even know these guys, why would you be hurt by any of this?

Because he used you. Made you think for a moment that you were worth his time.

It wasn't that unusual. You'd never been the most appealing omega. You weren't meek or bashful. You didn't bat your eyelashes and beg for attention.

Even if you did, it wouldn't work.

Whatever.

You needed fresh air, something to flush out all the embarrassing thoughts crowding your mind.

《•°~☆~°•~☆~•°~☆~°•~☆~•°~☆~°•》

Krueger hadn't gotten rid of the shirt. Nikto noticed it under his pillow, the scent of it's owner rubbed into the sheets. As the week passed, however, the shirt itself lost that sharp aroma, and smelled more like the deep forest that Krueger embodied.

As much as he felt possessive of Krueger, he couldn't bring himself to get upset. Y/N, he'd called them. The omega with the fierce scent. God, what was he thinking? Him of all people, starting a pack- on base, no less.

And yet, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Having Krueger and you rely on him for safety, comfort and... other needs... he found his breath picking up.

He paced the room with the shirt in his hands as his thoughts began to spiral.

You'd stay in the room with them. Make a nest, fill the space with your scent. Maybe you'd mark him and Krueger as yours.

He looked down at the shirt. Guilt clawed at the back of his mind. He should really give this back to you.

《•°~☆~°•~☆~•°~☆~°•~☆~•°~☆~°•》

A knock at the door pulled you from your light sleep. You had managed to shake off most of the uncomfortable thoughts from a week ago, and successfully avoided the two men since. You occasionally saw them around, and picked up their scents around base, but whenever one came too close, you slipped away. It didn't matter how soothing their voices were to your ears, or how hungry their smells made you. You were no one to them.

You looked over to your roommates, who slept soundly in their beds.

Opening the door, you immediately felt the blood leaving your face.

"Um... Nikto, right?" You tried your best to retain a stoic exterior, despite the pit of embarrassment forming in your stomach.

"I came to return this to you," he explained, holding up a T-shirt you hadn't realized was missing.

"Oh- um, thanks. I must've left it in the gym or something..." You mumbled, but he shakes his head.

"Krueger stole it."

Your jaw dropped. "O-oh?"

"He used it to... tease me. Confuse me about my own feelings so I'd get my head out of my ass and figure out what I want. And I want him."

Why was he telling you all this? Just to rub it in your face? To really hammer home how much of a pawn you were in their game? You thought he'd just forget about you and move on, but you clearly underestimated his cruelty.

"I know this is... strange. And sudden. But I cannot get you out of my head. You make me want to care for you. The way I care for Krueger."

You felt dizzy. Like the world was spinning twice as fast. Your heart beat in your chest like you were running a marathon.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't understand," the words stumbled from your mouth.

"Can I show you what I mean, then?" He asked, his voice gentle and calm despite how deep and raspy it is. His hand took your wrist and lead you out to the hall, down towards an isolated room- his room.

"I can smell it on you," he said. "Your loneliness. Your anger. Such a lovely omega like you shouldn't feel those things."

He opened the door. The room was clearly meant to house around four beds in a standard bunk, but two were taken out while the other two were slid together in the far right corner. The whole place smelled of wood, of the wilderness, and of them.

"I asked Krueger to get some things for you. He'll be back shortly," he muttered into your ear as he guided you down to sit on the bed. Like you had been broken from a trance, you whipped your head up to look at him.

"You- what are you doing? You expect me to believe you've fallen for me- a broken omega you don't even know?" Your voice cracked, betraying your vulnerability despite your attempt to remain guarded.

"And- and what about Krueger? He's just going to be ok sharing you-" you were about break down when a cold hand rested on your collarbone from behind.

"You misunderstand the situation, Schatz."

You looked up at Krueger, who wrapped a blanket around you and pushed you down onto the matress. The blanket was pleasantly warm, like it had just been taken out of the laundry. He wasn't wearing his hood, letting you see the sharp angles of his features and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Our alpha wants to make us into a pack, Liebling," Krueger explained. Nikto visibly tensed at his words, but didn't deny it.

A pack. You, the unwanted, lonely little omega who could never find footing among your peers, in society, you were being asked to join a pack.

A place to fit in. To be cared for. To be wanted. You were wanted.

You rubbed your eyes and tried to hide your face in the soft fabric of the blanket. You tried to speak, but the only thing that escaped your mouth was a whine.

Krueger immediately started nuzzling his face into you, trying to soothe your anxiety and make you comfortable.

"Good little omega... it's ok, we're here now."

Nikto, on the other hand, was getting more blankets and pillows from a bin set next to the door and piling them around you.

Krueger pressed his nose into your scent gland and started taking deep breaths.

"Mein Gott, Schatz... I could get addicted to this," he murmured as he shifted his legs to straddle you. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and down between your legs.

"Krueger," Nikto said, his voice stern, "What do you think you're doing?"

Krueger made an annoyed noise and look back at Nikto.

"They've got to be mated into the pack, right? Why not get that done right away?"

Nikto grumbled and tugged Krueger off of you.

"I'm the alpha here, not you. I'll be the first to mate them," he said, and looked at you. "Besides, Y/N, you haven't even said yes yet."

You blinked. "Said yes to what...?"

Both of the men looked at you expectantly. "Will you join our pack?" Krueger asked.

You nodded instantly. "Yes. Yes. I- I want to be in your pack. Please."

Nikto quickly changed positions with Krueger to straddle you, his hands fiddling with the band of his sweatpants before pulling out his cock, already half hard and twitching. You gasped when you saw it- large and intimidating, and he was going to fit it inside you. He was going to do that a lot, considering you were his omega now.

Krueger had gotten behind Nikto, pulling both their pants down to their knees and was currently kneading the alpha's ass. Nikto huffed but let him continue as he busied himself with your own clothes.

As soon as your skin was bare to him, Nikto ran a finger slowly down to your clit, biting back a moan when he felt the softness of it. He ventured further into your wet folds, spreading them apart and reaching deeper, making sure you could take all of him.

When he was finally satisfied, he pressed the head of his now fully erect cock against your welcoming entrance and groaned in ecstasy at the sensation. Your body began to quickly respond to his touch, and you let out a squeal as he sank into you. In the back of your mind you registered something else making contact with you, just below your entrance, but he began to move before you had time to think about it.

Every thrust of his hips elicited a groan and pant from your throat. He began to go faster when a whine suddenly sounded from behind him, and you realized what exactly was rubbing against you.

Krueger was fucking Nikto's thighs just to get to you.

Nikto growled in response but didn't shove him off. Unbeknownst to you, he was loving the feeling of the beta's cock between his legs, and was only displaying performative aggression. To let the both of you know who was really in control.

You began to tremble as your neared your limit, legs twitching with adrenaline soon to be released. That's when Nikto covered your eyes and you could hear the metallic click of his mask coming off.

"N-nikto- I'm gonna- I'm so close-"

He only grunted in response, his chapped and scarred lips tracing over your neck before settling on your scent gland.

"Cum," he ordered, and you obeyed, muscles tensing and voice strained when he bit down, the shape of his teeth becoming etched into your skin. At the same time, a warmth filled your insides as he let the last of his seed spill into you.

As the high wore off, Nikto pulled out of your convulsing pussy and shifted positions to be underneath you, holding you in place as Krueger teased your poor clit and inhaled the scent of you and Nikto combined. He eagerly lapped up some of the fluids seeping out of you before aligning his cock up to your hole.

He moaned in a breathy voice as he began to pound into you like an animal, mumbling under his breath about feeling his alpha's seed in his omega's pussy.

It didn't take long before both of you were once again on the edge, moaning and shaking like you were in heat.

"Nng- alpha, let me cum inside, bitte," Krueger whined, punctuating the last word with a thrust. Nikto reached out and took Krueger's throat in his hand, squeezing just enough to make him feel light headed.

"That's it, beta. Fill them up. Show me how bad you needed this."

Krueger gasped and did as he was told, sinking as deep as your body would allow as your second climax took hold of you. You clawed wildly at his back, groaning as every muscle in your body went stiff and abruptly relaxed. His arms enveloped you as he pulled out, letting the sheets get soiled with the evidence of your pleasure.

You didn't expect to find yourself drifting off so quickly, but Nikto pet your head reassuringly as you closed your eyes. You didn't want to fall asleep, you wanted to shower your alpha and beta in a thousand kisses, thank them for everything they had given you, and promise your heart and soul to them, but all you could do was mumble little I love you's into Krueger's neck until you fell asleep.

Pt1 Pt2

Masterlist

Bro did I create a new sex position?

[sonicthehedgehoglover2]

Hello, it's your favorite anon, with new ideas for this AU with the Player. Small ideas, Angst, and other delights of existence. But everything is as usual. So. We know that in ISAT everything that happens on the screen is canon, And profiles and buttons, and the tutorial, and how everything affects the world, and levels and problems … And I thought. Why not make the "PLAYERS" canon for this world? just some entities that are not very well known but in principle there were some records about it? those who are known by many names. In short, just curious entities that whether you want it or not but will lead you to your goal. And now it just sometimes … Happens? (Perhaps also known as ending expressions? or something like that?) and people have heard something about these someone who will lead you through everything … And apparently they like to run? (and the price for this help that they provide are quite such nightmares, in which you see how everything could go wrong? (And in fact, people just replay the game to get easter eggs, or favorite fights …) So very dubious someone, but sometimes necessary … And they can also be scared off if you acknowledge their existence so they are also quite timid????????) And I just … thought a little, because even the presence of the player for ISAT siffrin can be explained with the help of Wishcraft. asked for help? Get help! And Loop is here to help! … Yes, Stardust will now not be able to dodge accusations that he is the favorite of the Universe. …I can now imagine a classic post canon fic where Siffrin has to come to terms not only with the fact that it's finally over, but also with the loss of two of his closest comrades who were with him throughout his cycles (imagine Siffrin was given the option to use a knife but never used it on himself, but also didn't give it up when Loop offered to remove the feature??? I don't know, I just think it's a bit of an underused feature) And just… try to imagine what it's like to have someone who can't communicate with you, but if you know they're there, you can sense their intentions? And just… What must it feel like to lose that constant presence in the back of your mind? What must it feel like to… lose that color whose name you never bothered to learn? … And of course, their whole canonical longing for Loop (an entity not an event). I don't know, it's just… there's something that particularly fascinates me about the concept of the player as something not entirely pleasant… But not absolute evil either. Just… Something alive. Something to miss. Something… worth remembering. Yeah. I'm going into uninvited worldbuilding again. Oh well. Let's enjoy this uninvited worldbuilding while it lasts) (i sorry for lacking of structure... i just afraid that if i will add structure, this post will ends up being eaten and non exsisting)

I very much want Players to be canon. I like the idea of them being associated with the Universe - or a part of the Universe itself - that have a whole backstory and everything. Like, helping those who are lost or something like that.

I feel Siffrin's feelings for the Player, specifically, depends on the actions of the Player. (You know just like in Undertale where you're able to alter the ending to the game and your relationship with other characters based on your actions). If you're nice, in a way, to Siffrin, then he's more likely to see you as friendly. But say, for example - and definitely not something I might write in the future - the Player chooses to have Siffrin use the dagger a lot, even when there's better options near by. Or, if the Player refuses to let Siffrin make his own choices every now and then. Siffrin may feel that the Player seems them as an object.

But, if the Player does the "right" thing, then Siffrin may, as you say, view them as someone to miss when everything's over.

Also, I do like your thoughts. You're welcome to worldbuild on this as much as you like.

[judgeanon]

What do you think are the elements of a Judge Dredd story? In the sense of what are the requirements of one

It's a bit hard to tell because Dredd, both the character and the universe, are a lot more flexible than it'd seem on the surface. There are action Dredds and comedy Dredds and brutal, heart-wrenching Dredds... hell, there's even stories where Dredd takes off his helmet, which you'd think would be the biggest element of it all!

But I think it becomes easier if you split it into parts and then figure out the core elements of each part. In my case, I'd split it into three: Dredd himself, Mega-City One itself, and the Story you want.

For Dredd, the key is to understand what kind of man he is. He's obsessed, stubborn, driven and very short tempered. He's been literally created to serve the Law, but also possesses a strong sense of capital-j Justice that sometimes can clash with that law and with the institution he works in. He'll lock up a million citizens but also willingly give up his own life for one. He doesn't know happiness but he understands satisfaction. And crucially, Dredd is not a guy who likes leaving things half-done. If Judge Death escapes into another dimension, he'll chase him there to punch him in the face. If some karate ninja gets the better of him and escapes, he'll hold that grudge for years waiting for a chance to repay him. And if he feels that an injustice is being made, by him or by his system, he'll do his best to squash it with the same bloody single-mindedness he wields against the perps and creeps of his city. All are equal in the eyes of the Law, and all must face Justice.

For Mega-City One, you need to be able to see the absurdist horror of the city. Behind the wild sci-fi technological miracles and the goofy future crimes, there's a dystopian nightmare that's easy to lose sight of when all you can see are the shiny silver lights and funny weirdos. You need to be able to see the living conditions that create all that crime. You need to see a vision of mankind forever teetering on the edge of losing everything that makes life worth living, everything that defines humanity. A populace beaten into despair, hollowed out by oppression, empty people living empty lives from cradle to resyk. And you need to be able to understand the kinds of people that situation gives birth to. The freaks and the perps but also the sad and the lonely, the alienated, the broken people who never had and never will have a chance to put themselves together.

Finally, there's the story you want to tell, which is where it all comes together. Once you understand Dredd and once you understand MC-1, you can then think of pretty much any kind of story and organically see both where the story would come from and what would Dredd's role be in that story. No matter what genre you make or what you want to tell, MC-1 will provide an opportunity for it and Dredd will give you the perfect straight man to counter it. But beyond that, I think, and this is a very personal thought, that the very best Dredds all come from a place of intense fear and loathing.

The best Dredds come from something terrifying, from the gut-wrenching fear of our own world eventually becoming Mega-City One, of our own failings giving birth to something as monstrous as the judges. They come from anger at the million little and not so little knives that bleed humanity out every day, the mundane horrors that bring us one step closer to MC-1. Even the funny stuff, like the eating contests where teams of fatties eat an entire motorhome in front of thousands, comes from that creeping sensation that this is where we're headed for. That we're halfway there already. That maybe it's even too late to stop it.

I deserve a few years in the iso-cubes for this, but the best Dredds are filled with dread.

[aemiron-main]

The Stardust Spider or The Scarlet Spider?

So, I’ve seen some talk about this, and wanted to add my two cents.

When James and I saw the play, it was 100% “The Stardust Spider”:

And “stardust,” is a reference to The Stardust Casino, and the idea of Henry performing at The Stardust Casino with Patty- hence why his stage name/superhero name would be “The Stardust Spider,”- they’ve combined Henry’s “superhero name,” and “stage name,” into one name (“The Stardust Spider,”) and they do the same thing with Patty in this scene, just in a slightly different way.

Henry’s “superhero name,” and “stage name,” get combined via “The Stardust Spider”, being the name for both.

Whereas with Patty, her “superhero name,” (“Mystery Meat”) and her “stage name,” (Miss Mystery, which is what Henry calls her when he introduces her on stage during the church vision scene) get literally combined into one name during that scene, because Henry calls her “Miss Mystery Meat,” which is a combination of “Miss Mystery,” and “Mystery Meat”:

And the name “The Stardust Spider,” is also a reference to Stardust the Super Wizard, a comic book hero who first appeared in 1939 and has a ton of interesting parallels re: ST and TFS (trying to keep this post brief, hence why I’m not going through all those parallels rn/I have another draft about that).

Hell, Stardust the Super Wizard even has the same blonde, slicked-back hair as Henry:

So, yeah! While I won’t be surprised if they’re changing things up between various versions of the show, when James and saw it in December of 2023, it was absolutely “The Stardust Spider”- and we saw it multiple times in December, and it was “The Stardust Spider,” every time.

It’s also worth keeping in mind that with this new West End cast, they’ve changed some other things too (such as Patty’s costume choices), so, these sort of changes aren’t unprecedented and both versions can (and do) coexist, and that the new choices don’t erase the choices that they previously made.

(Especially keeping in mind the ways in which Kate & the Duffers like to change things within ST itself, such as NINA Henry’s weird constantly changing hair and demeanour and changing jumpsuit blood and the constantly moving and changing dead bodies that we see during the massacre, and what others such as James, Stav, Wilbur and myself have been talking about re: them making similar weird intentional changes during TFS.)

And especially considering the changes when it comes to Louis Healy’s version of Henry- like, isn’t it a little suspicious that not only did they change his superhero name to “The Scarlet Spider,” but he also just looks so different (and is styled so different) compared not only to Louis’ version of Henry, but also to in-show Henry?

Like, they could’ve dyed his hair or given him a wig or casted someone else, but instead, they just kept that really dark brown hair for him? Isn’t that a little odd? Especially considering 7 year old Henry’s dark brown hair vs Louis McCartney TFS Henry’s blonde hair and in-show Raphael Luce Young Henry’s blonde hair and in-show Jamie Campbell Bower’s blonde hair?

Especially considering how the previous TFS Victor Creel (Mike Jibson) has blonde hair vs the new TFS Victor (and in-show Victor) having dark brown hair?

(And keeping in mind, too, that Fringe is a confirmed source of inspiration for ST- and in Fringe, Olivia’s alternate timeline counterpart has a different hair colour than her/the main Olivia has blonde hair, whereas the alternate timeline Olivia has brownish-red hair)

TLDR: As usual, there’s more to the story with this sort of stuff.

[melon-dot-com]

bonking my head against desk.mp4

I wasted time on something unimportant and that I didn't even care about again!!!!! I'm gonna Lose It!!!!