#how do I function as a normal society member
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wingtoots · 2 years ago
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I’d like to thank @llamagoddessofficial and @aka-indulgence for filling my maladaptive daydreams
Had to sketch my latest obsession- Horror Sans from aka-indulgence fic “Stay” and hmf!Sans by both mentioned above <3
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acediaedeus · 11 months ago
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do you ever wonder whether Ichigo had dreams as a kid? did he ever lay in bed, after being tucked in by his loving mother, and imagine his future? and do you ever think about Ichigo, right after his youth, spent being a weapon of war, has ended? about him coming home after a tiring day, filled with what is, in comparison, trivial human matters, and just sitting there for a moment? and then coming to bed and trying very hard to not imagine anything at all? do you? because I don’t!
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kashverse · 3 months ago
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Hey! Not 100% sure if your requests are open, but can I get an SMAU of you doing a double take at a random hot guy the boys and you walk past on the street? Crack would be so funny lmaoo! Thanks, love ur work!😆🤭
read till the end to see choso in cosplay (not clickbait)
it was supposed to be a simple grocery run. a peaceful, uneventful, married couple activity. you and nanami were at the organic section—him carefully selecting the perfect tomatoes, you texting him from two feet away about getting more oat milk. normal. civil. domestic.
then it happened.
a man—tall, broad, effortlessly stylish—walked past you with a bulging bag of groceries. your eyes followed him. your head whipped so fast you swore you heard your neck crack. and beside you, nanami stopped mid-reach for an avocado, eyes slowly narrowing. “really?” he muttered, voice dangerously calm. you blinked at him, confused. “what?”
“nothing.” his jaw twitched. nanami kento, mature and self-assured, was obviously not sulking.
but you saw the way his grip on the avocado tightened. saw the micro twitch in his brow. your dear husband thought you were checking out grocery bag man. except you were not. oh, no. this was far worse. you turned to nanami, eyes wide, voice trembling with despair.
“he took the last loaf.”
nanami’s expression barely shifted. “what?”
“the last loaf, kento. the ethically sourced, imported-from-a-french-village, aged-like-fine-wine, vegan-friendly bread you waited weeks for—he has it.”
nanami’s world shattered. his entire soul left his body.
the betrayal, the injustice, the absolute audacity of that man, casually walking out with his bread like he didn’t just ruin two people’s week. you grabbed his arm before he could start forward. “babe, no.”
his fingers twitched, torn between rationality and primal rage. “he doesn’t deserve it,” he whispered, haunted. you spent the rest of the grocery run in silence. nanami didn’t even flinch when the cashier told him the total. he was mourning.
ah, evening walks. a staple of married life. you and geto, hands intertwined, nodding politely at neighbors like you were the wholesome, friendly couple everyone thought you were.  then you saw him. a man striding down the street, his pants fluttering with each step. the most perfect pair of bell-bottoms you had ever seen.
you grabbed geto’s arm, halting mid-walk. your jaw went slack.
“sugu—”
his expression darkened. his fingers tensed around yours.
“so that’s your type?”
you blinked, confused. “what?”
“oh, nothing.” he smiled, but it wasn’t a real smile. it was a ‘hmm, my love is a traitor’ smile.
you turned back to bell-bottom man.
“he’s wearing the exact pair you’ve been looking for.”
geto froze. the tension evaporated. he squinted. studied. analyzed.
“…cotton blend,” he murmured.
“definitely imported,” you added. you both stood there. staring. geto’s eyebrows twitched.
“i need to know where he got them.”
“we could follow him.”
“we absolutely could.”
and so, two grown adults—former sorcerers, parents, functioning members of society—spent the next ten minutes covertly (not covertly) stalking a man for the sole purpose of inquiring about his pants.
it was a good day. you and toji had just finished at the butcher, a prime cut of steak nestled in your bag, and toji was already humming about grilling it up with butter. then you saw the officer.
your head whipped around so fast toji felt it. his shoulders tensed. his jaw clenched. a cop? a cop? that’s what you were into? he could deal with gym bros, maybe even pretty boys, but an officer?
…he was gonna have to commit a crime.
toji was seething. fuming. trying so hard not to snarl about how he could handle you better than some uniformed pretty boy. then you leaned into him, tugging his sleeve.
“look at his gun.”
toji blinked. “huh?”
“that’s a customized SIG. high-end, lightweight, reinforced barrel—”
oh.
oh.
toji let out the deepest sigh of his life. his entire soul exhaled. you weren’t ogling some officer’s ass. you were checking out his gun.
for the first time ever, toji felt defeated by an inanimate object.
there were three things gojo satoru could not tolerate:
being ignored
being ignored in public
being ignored in public while you were looking at another man
so when he caught you staring—staring—at some guy while he, the love of your life, stood next to you in all his six-eyed, beautiful glory, he reacted in the only way he knew how. loudly.
“are you actually serious right now?” gojo gasped, clutching his chest. “ogling another man? in front of me? your one true love?”
you didn’t even look at him. you were still staring at sunglasses man, an impressed hum under your breath. gojo clutched your sleeve. “babe, look at me. me."
“he’s wearing chopard.”
the air changed.
gojo stopped breathing. his hand went limp. his pupils shrank. his jaw—previously running at a hundred miles per hour—snapped shut.
“ch-chopard?” his voice cracked. you nodded, grave.
now both of you were wailing.
“we could’ve been him,” gojo cried. “we could’ve been walking around dripping in wealth!”
“he looks so effortless.”
“his life is together.”
you both mourned the lack of chopard in your lives, heads bowed in devastation, like you had just witnessed your futures slipping through your fingers. that night, gojo went home and bought three pairs online.
sukuna had seen it. the way your eyes lingered. the way your gaze flickered over some gym bro’s barely covered pecs like you had just discovered the meaning of life. he crossed his arms, seething. “seriously?” you, completely unaware of your impending doom, glanced at him. “huh?”
“you checked him out.”
you blinked. “no, i didn’t.”
“yes, you did.”
“no, i didn’t.”
“yes, you did.”
“read his shirt.”
sukuna’s eye twitched. but fine. he’d play your little game. he begrudgingly looked over, prepared to see some cringe gym brand logo, only to be met with the words:
“I ❤️ MY PARTNER.”
in bold. right across the pecs.
sukuna froze. the world went silent. for once in his entire existence, he felt true, undeniable embarrassment.
“…oh.”
you smacked the back of his head.
the next day, sukuna walked into his gym wearing that exact shirt, except his was customized.
“I ❤️ MY PARTNER MORE THAN YOU LOVE YOURS.”
choso was panicking. he had seen you do it. the double take. the slight pause in your step. the way your eyes lingered on another man. his hands clenched into fists. his heart dropped into his stomach.
his brain? already drafting up worst-case scenarios. his soul? leaving his body. his spirit? crushed.
“please don’t leave me,” he whispered, eyes pleading. you blinked. “what?”
“i saw you looking at him.”
you glanced at the man in question. he was carrying a big shopping bag filled with sanrio plushies.
“…babe.”
choso swallowed. “just tell me now so i can emotionally prepare—”
“babe, i was looking at the plushies.”
choso went silent. the blood drained from his face.
he stared at the bag, then at you.
back at the bag, then at you.
then back at the bag.
“oh,” he whispered. he didn’t sleep that night. he spent hours on his phone.
on valentine’s day you opened the door, expecting something sweet—flowers, chocolates, maybe a heartfelt love letter. instead, you were met with choso.
in a inflatable cinnamoroll costume.
his entire body was swallowed by the plush suit. his face? peeking out of cinnamoroll’s giant, smiling head.
“…choso?”
“do you like it?” he asked, voice muffled through the fabric. you did not know whether to laugh or cry. he shuffled closer, arms outstretched.
“i’m your sanrio plush now.”
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solxamber · 4 months ago
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Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want a Refund || Trey Clover
When the universe dunks you into a dumpster fire of a novel as the villainess, survival is key. Except your husband, Trey Clover, turns out to be such a green flag that it gets a little harder to function.
Series Masterlist
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You prided yourself on being a normal, decent person. Maybe even a good person, depending on who you asked. Sure, you weren’t out here saving kittens from trees or solving world hunger, but you did your part.
You recycled when you remembered, held the door open for strangers (if they were close enough, you weren’t that kind of hero), and even tossed bread crumbs to the pigeons outside your apartment every now and then. It wasn’t much, but it was honest work.
So, really, what you didn’t expect was to be completely betrayed by the universe. The betrayal began small, like a mosquito buzzing in your ear: the newest novel you’d been anticipating for months was sold out.
“Are you serious?” you grumbled, glaring at the empty display like it had just insulted your mother. A handwritten sign on the shelf read: ‘SOLD OUT! More in stock soon!’ in cheerful cursive, as if mocking you.
What were you supposed to do now? Go home empty-handed? Waste your perfectly good afternoon plans of curling up with a book? Absolutely not. Refusing to admit defeat, you scanned the bookstore until your gaze fell on the “New and Best-Selling” rack.
One book immediately caught your eye. The cover was... well, something. It looked like someone had raided a middle schooler’s stash of Barbie stickers, splattered glitter over the whole thing, and slapped on an aggressively curly gold font that screamed, I’M A ROMANCE NOVEL!
You sighed. “Fine. How bad could it be?”
It could be very, very bad.
The first red flag was the synopsis. It introduced Trey Clover, the Grand Duke, who loved his spouse, the villainess, with a devotion so pure it made you want to gag. But then came the second male lead, the Prince, who confessed his love to Trey and the villainess, because monogamy was too boring for this book.
And then there was the heroine. The synopsis just called her “the Saintess,” because why bother giving her a name when her only personality trait was being the worst human being imaginable? She appeared out of nowhere, became the Saintess overnight (because logic?), and made it her life’s mission to ruin the villainess’s life while somehow convincing everyone she was an angel.
Oh, and the Prince? The book had him slip on a rock and die halfway through the plot, like the author had a word count limit and didn’t know what else to do with him. The villainess ends up dying too, right aftetr asking Trey for a divorce to "protect him." The ending involved Trey marrying the heroine, despite spending the entire book side-eyeing her like she owed him rent.
You closed the book slowly, your soul drained of all joy. “What in the fresh hell did I just read?”
But no, you couldn’t let this stand. You were a taxpayer, a contributing member of society. You did not deserve this literary slap in the face.
With righteous indignation burning in your chest, you marched back to the bookstore. You slapped the book onto the counter with a dramatic flair that deserved a standing ovation.
“Refund,” you declared, glaring at the cashier.
“Uh... we don’t usually do refunds on books you’ve already read...” they began hesitantly.
“I don’t care,” you snapped, pointing at the glittering monstrosity. “This isn’t a book. It’s a hate crime against literature. A refund, please, before I start sobbing in public.”
After a long pause—and possibly fearing a customer service meltdown—they handed you store credit. Satisfied but still simmering with rage, you stomped out of the store, muttering to yourself about bad authors, worse editors, and the existential crisis of knowing someone got paid to write that garbage.
And that’s when karma struck.
A segway—a SEGWAY—came hurtling toward you at Mach speed, piloted by a man dressed in full medieval knight armor.
“MAKE WAY FOR SIR SCOOTINGTON!” he screamed, his voice muffled by his helmet.
You froze. Your brain could not process this level of absurdity in such a short amount of time. Was this a prank? A hallucination? Had the book actually been cursed and now you were living out its bad writing?
The segway didn’t stop. It hit you with a solid THUNK, sending you flying backward into a suspiciously well-placed pile of garbage bags.
As you lay there, buried under the remains of someone’s takeout and a very old banana peel, as your vision started to blur, you stared at the sky and thought:
Dawg, why me??
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You woke up to the faint chirping of birds and the kind of silence that only rich people seem to afford. Something felt... off. The sheets were too soft, like they’d been spun from angel whispers and a mid-tier deity’s hair. Your pillow was the perfect combination of fluffy and firm, a far cry from the lumpy second-hand abomination you’d bought on sale three years ago.
Your eyes cracked open, squinting against the sunlight filtering through an elaborate, gold-encrusted chandelier. A chandelier. In a bedroom. You lived in a shoebox apartment; your idea of luxury was a lamp that wasn’t from a clearance bin.
You turned your head slightly, and your soul froze mid-exit.
There was someone next to you.
Your brain screeched to a halt, flashing every warning signal it had. Stranger. Bed. You. No.
The only living thing that should’ve been in your apartment was the stray cat you’d nicknamed Gremlin, and he sure as hell didn’t have human proportions or a steady breathing rhythm.
Slowly—painstakingly—you tilted your head to look at your unwanted companion.
It was a man. A very attractive man, sleeping peacefully on his side, glasses perched askew on the nightstand. His hair was a soft mess, his breathing even, and his entire aura screamed gentle husband vibes.
Then recognition sucker-punched you in the gut.
No.
No.
It couldn’t be.
You blinked. Looked again. Replayed every horrible memory of that atrocious novel you had read, and then read again because you hated yourself.
It was Trey Clover.
Male lead. Gentleman. Human embodiment of a warm cup of tea. The guy who was in love with his villainess spouse (you remembered her being dramatic but competent) before the world went full dumpster fire.
Your breathing hitched. You stared down at your hands, and they stared back—perfectly manicured, dainty, soft hands that had never touched a single dirty dish or over-scrubbed countertop.
The reality hit you like a segway knight at full speed.
You’d been isekai’d.
You fought the urge to scream into the pillow. Was this some karmic punishment for returning that book? Was your snarky review in the Reddit thread too harsh? Because this? This was an unholy level of irony.
Trey stirred beside you, his brow furrowing slightly as his hand lazily reached for his glasses. He slid them on, blinking sleepily as his gaze landed on you.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, groggy, and just a little raspy—the kind of voice you’d pay extra to have someone read you bedtime stories with. “You’re staring.”
For a moment, your brain blue-screened. Trey Clover—novel character and now your husband, apparently—was looking at you with concern, and all you could think was: At least he’s hot.
“…Nothing,” you croaked, swallowing down the rising tide of panic. “Just… processing.”
“Processing what?” he asked, sitting up slightly and rubbing his eyes, his entire demeanor radiating "adoring husband" energy.
You clenched the sheets in your fists, trying to will yourself to wake up from this insane fever dream. Unfortunately, the chandelier wasn’t disappearing, Trey wasn’t fading into mist, and your perfectly moisturized skin wasn’t breaking into your usual crusty dryness.
This was real.
And somehow, you were the villainess in a novel you’d once described as "a literary abomination designed to kill brain cells."
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The sound of a soft knock at the bedroom door made you jump, nearly upsetting the tower of books you’d been flipping through in your attempt to figure out where in the dumpster fire of this timeline you were.
“Come in?” you called hesitantly, trying to shove the incriminating evidence of your non-villainess-like behavior—a half-written list titled HOW TO NOT DIE TRAGICALLY—under a pillow.
Trey stepped in, balancing a tray of food like he was auditioning for Husband of the Year. His hair was slightly mussed, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up just enough to show forearms that could inspire sonnets. The man was a walking Pinterest board, and it was unfair.
“I brought you something to eat,” he said with a small smile, setting the tray on the table. “You’ve been skipping meals, and that’s not like you.”
You laughed nervously, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Oh, um, yeah. Upset stomach. You know how it is.”
Trey raised an eyebrow, his smile unwavering but his eyes far too knowing. “Sure. And I’ll be here while you eat, just to make sure you’re feeling better.”
Oh, no.
You stared at the tray like it had betrayed you. Soup, bread, and some suspiciously perfect desserts that looked like they had been made by the hands of an angel. You couldn’t say no without sounding even sketchier.
“Right,” you muttered, picking up the spoon with the grace of someone about to face a firing squad. As you sipped, Trey watched silently, his chin resting on one hand, his soft gaze pinned on you. The air felt so heavy you could’ve cut it with a butter knife.
“Are you going to go through with it?” he asked suddenly.
You froze mid-bite, the words hitting you like a frying pan to the face. “Go through with… what?”
“The divorce,” he said simply.
You choked on your soup. The spoon clattered back into the bowl as you grabbed a napkin, trying to avoid literally dying of shock. Divorce? Divorce?! That wasn’t in the plan! You knew what happened after the divorce—the villainess died, and you weren’t about to let fate steamroll you into an early grave, again.
“What? No! Of course not!” you sputtered, waving your hands in frantic denial. “Why would I want a divorce? You’re, uh, great! Fantastic! A literal dream husband!”
Trey blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion before his expression softened into something warmer, almost relieved. “You… want to work things out?”
“Yes!” you blurted, nodding with enough enthusiasm to give yourself whiplash. “Absolutely! Let’s work this out. Together. Like a team.”
His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile that nearly melted you on the spot. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead that left your brain doing cartwheels. “Alright. I’ll hold you to that. I’ll be back for dinner, so rest up until then.”
He left the room, and the moment the door clicked shut, you flopped back onto the bed like a deflated balloon. The pillow muffled your scream of embarrassment as you kicked your feet, equal parts flustered and mortified. What was that? Why did he have to be so sweet? How were you supposed to survive this level of tenderness without combusting?
The door creaked open again.
You froze mid-giggle, legs tangled in the sheets like a caught fish. Trey stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised and looking like he was about two seconds away from bursting into laughter. “Forgot my pen,” he said casually, strolling over to grab the item from the bedside table.
You wanted the floor to swallow you whole. “Oh. Uh. Right.”
He paused on his way out, leaning down to kiss your cheek with infuriating gentleness. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
And just like that, he was gone again, leaving you red-faced, flustered, and questioning every life choice that had led to this moment.
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It had been such a nice meal. The kind where the food was good, the company better, and the wine just strong enough to make you feel warm and floaty but not stupid. Trey was smiling faintly at you over his plate, his rare but deeply satisfying I’m enjoying myself face in full effect, and you dared to think, Hey, maybe I can survive this isekai nonsense after all.
And then the restaurant door swung open, and your fragile peace shattered like a dropped wine glass.
The prince had arrived.
Trey’s face immediately darkened like a thunderstorm on the horizon, and you felt yourself lose a year of your life just from sheer dread. The prince was a walking disaster in human form, and you’d been hoping to avoid him like the plague. But the universe clearly hated you because here he was, sashaying through the restaurant like he owned the place.
“Oh no,” you whispered, gripping your fork like it could somehow protect you.
Trey’s jaw tightened as the prince spotted you both, his grin wide enough to make you wish the floor would open up and swallow you.
“Darlings!” the prince cried, crossing the room with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever off its leash. “Fancy seeing you here!”
You didn’t even get a chance to object before he grabbed a chair from a nearby table, spun it around dramatically, and wedged himself between you and Trey, plopping down like he’d been invited. Spoiler alert: he hadn’t.
“Your Highness,” Trey said through clenched teeth, managing to sound both polite and like he was ready to stab someone with a salad fork.
“Oh, come now, Trey,” the prince laughed, waving off the formality. “No need to be so stiff. After all, we’re practically family!”
You didn’t get the chance to ask how that made sense before he grabbed your hand—and Trey’s—planting a wet, sloppy kiss on each. The sound it made was unholy, like a boot pulling free from a swamp. You and Trey simultaneously stiffened, the same thought clearly running through your minds: Don’t cringe, don’t cringe, don’t cringe…
“I simply had to come over when I saw you two!” the prince gushed, oblivious to your visible discomfort. “The saintess—bless her kind, radiant heart—has been dying to see you both!”
You glanced at Trey, who was visibly restraining himself from rolling his eyes.
“She’s throwing a ball this weekend,” the prince continued, clasping his hands together like he was sharing the world’s most exciting news. “And you must come. Truly, it’d be… well, treasonous not to, considering we’re both inviting you!”
Ah, there it was. The veiled threat disguised as politeness. You hated that this guy was smart enough to wield his royal status as a weapon, even if he made everything sound like it came with a complimentary gift basket.
You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look too much like a grimace. “We’d be honored, Your Highness.”
Trey shot you a subtle look, one that very clearly said Traitor, but you knew he agreed. Anything to avoid another round of Wet Hand Kisses.
“Wonderful!” the prince declared, clapping his hands together. “I knew you two would understand. You always were the reasonable ones.”
He finally stood up, ruffling Trey’s hair in a way that made his eye twitch before striding off like he hadn’t just hijacked your peaceful dinner.
As soon as the door swung shut behind him, you slumped back in your chair, utterly drained. “I feel like I need to bathe in holy water.”
Trey pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “I should’ve poisoned his dessert last time.”
You stared at him. “You what?”
“Nothing,” he said, picking up his fork like nothing had happened. “Let’s finish eating.”
You could still feel the ghost of the prince’s wet kiss on your hand, and you shuddered. “Do you think we can fake our deaths before Saturday?”
Trey actually looked like he was considering it.
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The ball was, against all odds, actually enjoyable. The lights glittered like fairy dust, the music was just the right level of lively, and the wine was strong enough to turn your earlier dread into a warm, floaty haze. Trey was by your side, charming in his tailored suit, and for once, the prince and saintess were blissfully absent.
"Maybe they got lost," you whispered to Trey, leaning in conspiratorially. "Or better yet, maybe they found a better party and decided to leave us alone."
Trey smirked, sipping his wine. "If only we were that lucky."
Your hopes were dashed, naturally, when the prince appeared out of nowhere like some unholy summon. One second you were lifting a glass to your lips, and the next, your arm was being yanked so hard you almost spilled your drink.
“Come now, my dear!” the prince declared, grinning in a way that felt more like a threat than an invitation. “Dance with me!”
Before you could even process what was happening, you were being twirled onto the dance floor. Across the room, you caught a glimpse of Trey being snatched by the saintess, who looked like she had all the coordination of a baby deer on ice.
The prince pulled you in too close, his breath an unholy concoction of garlic and what might’ve been sour milk. You tried to politely lean back, but he just leaned closer, grinning obliviously.
“You’re stiff, my dear,” he said, his voice low and entirely too sultry for someone who smelled like a kitchen accident. “Loosen up!”
Meanwhile, Trey was enduring his own nightmare. The saintess stepped on his foot with her stiletto for the fourth time, and you could swear you saw him wince in actual pain. She was chattering nonstop about something—maybe puppies, maybe world peace—you couldn’t hear over the sound of her heels clobbering the floor.
When the ordeal finally ended, you staggered back to Trey, feeling like you’d aged ten years. He looked equally frazzled, rubbing his shoulder like it had been yanked out of its socket.
“I’d say that was horrible,” he said under his breath, “but I think ‘horrible’ is too kind.”
Before you could respond, the saintess suddenly tripped. She wasn’t even near you—she was all the way across the room—but she hit the ground with a dramatic thud, and her dress promptly ripped down the side.
You blinked. “Wait, what just—”
“I knew it!” she screeched, pointing an accusatory finger at you from the floor. “You sabotaged me!”
The prince, for once, looked baffled. He glanced between her and you like he was trying to solve a complicated riddle. “But… she wasn’t even near you?”
“SABOTAGE!” the saintess shrieked again, her voice cracking.
The original villainess would’ve taken the high road, maybe pretended to be insulted or outraged. You, however, were just drunk enough to find the entire thing hilarious.
You laughed. Loudly.
And to your absolute delight, the crowd followed suit. Quiet snickers turned into outright guffaws as everyone around you dissolved into laughter.
The saintess gawked, looking like a wet cat as she scrambled to her feet. “You’re all… MONSTERS!” she shrieked, before fleeing the room with a level of dramatics that would make even a soap opera jealous.
The prince hesitated, torn between chasing after her or staying to glower at you and Trey. Finally, with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like “I hate my life,” he ran after her, disappearing into the night.
“Well,” Trey said, offering his hand with a faint smirk, “that was… something. Care to salvage the evening with a proper dance?”
You took his hand, letting him spin you onto the floor. The music softened, the crowd fading into the background as Trey pulled you close.
“You look stunning tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as you danced.
The compliment hit you like a sucker punch, leaving you so dazed that, in your flustered state, you impulsively dipped him instead of the other way around.
Trey laughed, eyes crinkling with genuine delight. “What are you doing?”
“Shut up,” you hissed, cheeks burning as you held the pose.
But to your surprise, he didn’t protest. He let you dip him, even laughing as you pulled him back up. And when the dance ended, he kissed your cheek, sending your heart into a full-on meltdown.
“That,” he said, his voice filled with amusement, “was the most fun I’ve had at a ball in years.”
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The tea party was a picturesque affair, all pastel tablecloths, delicate porcelain cups, and the kind of floral arrangements that screamed wealth and good taste. You were seated with Riddle, Cater, and Che’nya at a table tucked under a wisteria-laden gazebo, trying your best to survive the endless parade of gossip and sweets.
The conversation drifted naturally, like it always did, until someone—probably Cater—brought up the topic of Trey.
“Y’know,” Cater began, swirling his tea with exaggerated nonchalance, “Trey’s been looking at you like you personally hung the moon and stars lately. It’s kinda adorable.”
Che’nya leaned over, grinning like the Cheshire Cat he was. “So deep in love, it’s practically a romantic trench. What’s your secret, huh? Love potion? A really good pie?”
You chuckled, brushing off the comment, but then you glanced across the garden—and froze.
There he was, Trey Clover, the ridiculously perfect husband material that fate had handed you in this bizarre isekai life. He was standing a little ways off, chatting with a few nobles, but his gaze was unmistakably fixed on you.
When your eyes met, he smiled. Not just any smile—a warm, genuine, I-would-die-for-you-and-bake-you-cookies-afterwards kind of smile. It hit you like a runaway carriage.
Your chest tightened, your stomach flipped, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to pause.
Oh no.
Oh no.
You were in so deep.
Like, Titanic-hitting-the-iceberg-and-sinking-to-the-ocean-floor deep.
“Uh oh,” Cater sang, leaning closer with a smirk that could only mean trouble. “I know that look. Someone just had their Hallmark movie epiphany.”
You snapped out of it, cheeks burning. “What look? I don’t have a look!”
“Oh, you totally do,” Che’nya chimed in, his grin somehow wider. “It’s all dreamy and starry-eyed, like you’re in a fairy tale. Which, I guess you kinda are?”
Riddle, ever the straight man in these situations, regarded you with a mix of pity and exasperation. “Please tell me you’re not about to let these two meddle in your relationship.”
But before you could defend yourself, Cater was already leaning forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Cay-Cay’s got you covered! Wanna confess? I can totally set the mood—candles, roses, soft music…”
“I—what?” you stammered, still too dazed by your revelation to form a coherent response.
“That’s a yes!” Che’nya declared, clapping his hands together. “Alright, let’s brainstorm. Hot air balloon confession? Dramatic rain scene? Ooh, what about—”
“Absolutely not,” Riddle interrupted, his tone sharp as ever. He turned to you, expression weary. “I’ll make sure they don’t do anything absurd, but honestly, why not just tell Trey yourself? He’s your husband.”
You groaned, sinking into your chair as Cater and Che’nya continued to scheme with increasingly outlandish ideas. Meanwhile, Riddle looked at you like you’d just wired your entire fortune to a scammer and promised to fix it for you later.
Across the garden, Trey caught your gaze again, his brows furrowing slightly in concern at your flustered state. He started to make his way over, and your heart leapt into your throat.
Oh no.
Whatever happened next, you were absolutely not ready.
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Riddle had been firm, as always. “A pie,” he said with the kind of authority you’d expect from someone sentencing a man to death. “It’s simple, heartfelt, and Trey would appreciate the effort. Not that I have time to indulge in frivolities like this, but… you’re lucky I know the basics.”
Turns out, Riddle did not know the basics. And neither did you.
What followed could only be described as a culinary catastrophe.
The kitchen looked like it had been struck by a flour tornado, with you and Riddle at its chaotic epicenter. Your attempt at pie dough was a war crime in the making—half stuck to the counter, half to your hands, and none of it remotely edible.
“Why is it stretching?” Riddle hissed, his face as red as his hair, holding one end of the dough while you gripped the other. The elastic monstrosity between you refused to snap, stretching longer and longer like some unholy noodle.
“I don’t know!” you shrieked back, your voice an octave higher than usual. “I followed the instructions! Mostly! Kind of!”
“‘Kind of’ isn’t good enough! Put some force into it!”
Riddle tugged one end of the dough like he was in a tug-of-war with a particularly stubborn ghost. You yanked back, and the dough elongated even further, wobbling ominously in the air.
That’s when Trey walked in.
He stopped in the doorway, taking in the absolute chaos: the flour-streaked counter, the rolling pin embedded in what used to be a bag of sugar, and you and Riddle holding opposite ends of the world’s saddest dough.
“What… exactly is happening here?” Trey asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
You froze, still clutching the dough. Riddle looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
“We’re baking,” you managed to squeak out.
Trey blinked, then burst into laughter, the sound warm and rich like honey. “Is that what you’re calling this?”
His laughter didn’t help your embarrassment, but the way he stepped forward, gently taking the dough from you and Riddle like a benevolent baking god, did. “Alright, let’s see if we can salvage this. Flour, water… and patience. You two watch and learn.”
You stood back, flustered and hopelessly smitten as Trey worked his magic. In minutes, he turned your disaster into a perfectly respectable pie crust. He even smiled at you both as if to say nice try, kids, and it made you feel oddly warm inside.
Still too mortified to admit the pie was meant for him, you let him finish it while Riddle quietly excused himself, muttering about overdue paperwork.
You did feel for Riddle, poor guy was stuck babysitting the Prince after all. Maybe the dough was sad because of his stress.
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Later, Cater and Che’nya were far too pleased with themselves when they found you.
“So,” Cater said, grinning, “how’s Operation Swoon going?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you grumbled, remembering the dough debacle.
Che’nya’s grin widened. “Lucky for you, we’ve got Plan B: flowers! Romantic, classic, and impossible to mess up.”
You weren’t sure about that last part, but their enthusiasm was infectious. You ended up at a florist with Cater coaching you through every step, from picking out the blooms to tying a ribbon. By the time you were done, the bouquet looked gorgeous.
When you handed the flowers to Trey later, he looked… stunned. His eyes widened, his cheeks turned faintly pink, and his smile was so soft and genuine that you nearly dropped dead on the spot.
“For me?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.
You nodded, suddenly nervous. “Yeah. Just, uh, wanted to thank you. For everything. You know.”
Trey cradled the bouquet like it was something precious. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”
And when he smiled at you again, you realized that maybe, just maybe, Cater and Che’nya’s meddling wasn’t so bad after all.
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You were practically vibrating with excitement as you entered the restaurant, rare flower in hand. You’d spent far too much money on it, but it was worth it. Trey deserved nothing less. The merchant had waxed poetic about how the flower symbolized eternal devotion, and you figured it was the perfect way to set the stage for your long-overdue confession.
Trey was already seated at the table, his calm demeanor somehow both comforting and devastatingly attractive. When he saw you approach, his eyes softened, and that sweet smile of his—the one that made your knees weak—spread across his face.
You handed him the flower, and his expression lit up as though you’d just handed him the moon.
“For me?” he asked, his voice full of surprise and warmth.
“Of course,” you said, a little shy but mostly proud of yourself. “I thought it suited you.”
His fingers brushed yours as he took the flower, and before you knew it, you were holding hands across the table. The atmosphere felt perfect—soft candlelight, his warm gaze locked on yours, and your heart pounding like it had just discovered cardio.
This was it. The moment to confess that you loved him.
You opened your mouth, ready to pour your heart out—
And then she appeared.
The saintess, an uninvited hurricane in the form of a woman, swept into the room with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. You barely had time to process her arrival before she snatched the flower from Trey’s hand like a seagull stealing a french fry.
“Oh, Trey, you shouldn’t have!” she gushed, clutching the flower to her chest like a deranged soap opera villain. “How thoughtful of you to get this for me!”
Trey’s face froze in what could only be described as polite murder. His jaw tightened, his grip on the table visibly white-knuckled.
You, however, were already halfway to a breakdown. “Excuse me?” you sputtered.
The saintess ignored you entirely.
Enter the prince, the human equivalent of a golden retriever who’d been hit on the head one too many times. He trailed behind her, clearly regretting his existence. For once, he seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation and awkwardly tried to mediate.
“Ah, maybe I should—uh—just give this back,” he mumbled, reaching for the flower.
The saintess responded by shoving him.
The prince, unprepared for even the gentlest resistance, stumbled directly into Trey’s arms.
Trey, now holding a grown man like a bridal bouquet, froze. His eyes darted to you, silently screaming what do I do with this?
Before he could decide, the prince looked up at him, smiled coyly, and winked.
You might’ve laughed if the saintess hadn’t chosen that exact moment to drape herself across you.
“Oh, my dear friend,” she simpered, batting her lashes, “surely you understand Trey’s affection for me. You’ll support us, won’t you?”
You were too stunned to respond, stuck holding the saintess like an overly affectionate sloth. Across the table, Trey looked like he was begging whatever gods existed for an escape route.
Finally, something in Trey snapped. Gently—yet firmly—he set the prince in his seat like a toddler being put in timeout. Then, without a word, he reached across, grabbed the saintess by the arm, and unceremoniously deposited her in her own chair.
“You’ll have to excuse us,” Trey said, his voice smooth but his expression pure I’m done with this nonsense. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the restaurant, not even sparing a glance back.
Oh, and he definitely took the flower back.
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In the carriage, Trey was silent, his expression unreadable. You hesitated before asking, “Are you okay?”
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just… tired.”
“Of what?”
“Of not having moments with you for myself,” he said, his voice soft but full of frustration. “Every time I try to enjoy being with you, someone interrupts. I just… I want you. Just you.”
Your heart practically melted on the spot. Overwhelmed by his honesty, you leaned forward and kissed him—a gentle, tentative gesture that said everything you’d been too nervous to put into words.
Trey froze for a moment, then pulled you closer, kissing you again, this time deeper and with so much emotion that you thought your brain might short-circuit. His hands cradled your face, and the world outside the carriage ceased to exist.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his smile so radiant it made your heart skip. “I guess this means you’re mine?”
You nodded, breathless.
“And I’m yours,” he murmured, sealing the confession with another kiss that left you thoroughly, blissfully dazed.
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It was supposed to be a simple stroll through the common garden—just you and Trey enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you were basking in the warmth of Trey's smile when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.
The prince.
And worse, the pebble.
You recognized it instantly—the cursed rock from the original novel, the one destined to send the prince spiraling into a tragic, fatal end. It glittered ominously on the path, as if taunting fate.
The prince, blissfully unaware, strutted forward like he owned the place. He stepped right onto the pebble, his foot slipping out from under him with comical precision.
In that split second, you knew what you had to do. Annoying as he was, no one deserved to die because of a glorified piece of gravel.
You lunged forward, grabbing the prince by the arm and yanking him upright just before disaster struck.
He looked at you, wide-eyed, for all of two seconds before breaking into a toothy grin. “Ah, so this is love,” he declared, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “Fear not, my dear! Your feelings for me are obvious, and I, in my infinite generosity, shall grant you the honor of becoming my bride!”
Trey, who had been watching this unfold with his usual calm, suddenly stiffened. His hand slipped into yours, his grip firm but not unkind as he gently pulled you closer.
“Your Highness,” Trey began, his voice polite but laced with steel, “I think you may have misunderstood something.”
“Oh?” The prince arched a brow, clearly oblivious to the warning signs.
“She's already married,” Trey said, his tone so calm and measured it was borderline terrifying. “To me.”
The prince’s eyes lit up with excitement, not deterred in the slightest. “A rivalry for their love, then? Excellent! Let the best man win!”
You opened your mouth to protest, but Riddle—ever the voice of reason (or exhaustion)—strode into the fray like a man who had been dealing with this nonsense for far too long.
“Your Highness,” Riddle snapped, looking entirely done with life. “What in the sevens are you doing?” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the prince by the collar and dragged him away like a scolding parent hauling a toddler out of the candy aisle.
“You can’t just propose to married people!” Riddle hissed as they disappeared down the path.
Left in their wake, you spotted Cater and Che’nya lounging under a tree, shamelessly munching on popcorn. Cater caught your eye and waved, looking far too entertained by the whole ordeal.
“Did you see Trey’s face?” Che’nya whispered loudly. “I’d give it a solid nine out of ten on the jealousy scale.”
“Totally,” Cater agreed. “Hey, Alfred!” he called to the butler nearby. “Get me a glass of wine; this show’s getting good!”
Before you could decide whether to laugh or cringe, Trey’s hand gently tilted your chin, drawing your attention back to him.
“Focus on me,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours.
And oh, jealous Trey was adorable. His usual calm demeanor was tinged with a possessiveness that made your heart skip several beats.
Caught up in the moment, you leaned forward and kissed him, a quick but sweet gesture that left him blinking in surprise before a soft smile spread across his face.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Cater almost spill his wine in excitement, while Che’nya clapped like a seal.
“Now that’s spicy!” Che’nya crowed.
“I need another glass,” Cater sighed dramatically, as if the sheer romance was too much for his delicate heart.
But you didn’t care. Trey’s arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and for once, the rest of the world faded away.
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The war room was dead silent, the kind of silence so heavy you could hear the shuffle of maps and the scratch of quills on parchment. Every important figure of the empire was present—Trey and you, the Emperor and Empress, military generals whose scowls could crack stone, the Pope looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else, and, shockingly, even the Prince, for once not actively trying to ruin someone’s day.
Strategies were discussed in grim tones. Supply lines, terrain advantages, possible reinforcement numbers—you and Trey were fully immersed in weighing the support your duchy could offer. For once, even the Prince managed to look engaged, though he was suspiciously chewing on the end of his quill like a kid stuck in detention.
Then, like an uninvited storm, the doors slammed open.
“Hellooooooo!”
Every head in the room turned as the Saintess waltzed in, an hour late, as if this were a garden party and not a high-stakes war council. She was dressed in what could only be described as a fever dream of bad taste: a dress so garish and bedazzled it could probably be seen from orbit, complete with absurd feathered accessories sticking out at odd angles like a startled peacock.
“Sorry, I’m late,” she sang, twirling unnecessarily as if this was a runway. “I couldn’t decide which dress to wear. Do you think this one looks good?”
The silence was palpable, charged with a collective secondhand embarrassment that could power an entire city.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, wondering if you could claim an "upset stomach" for the fifth time this month. Then, unable to stop yourself, you deadpanned, “Yes. It’d make a great enemy flag.”
Trey choked on a laugh, quickly covering it with a cough. The Pope crossed himself, possibly praying for patience. One of the military generals muttered something under his breath, hand twitching toward the hilt of his sword. The Prince just buried his face in his hands.
The Saintess, predictably, burst into tears. “You’re so mean! I’m just trying to brighten up this dreary meeting!”
The Emperor looked deeply, soul-crushingly confused, glancing at the generals as if to ask, Does this happen often? Meanwhile, the Empress, seated beside him, was gripping the armrest of her chair so tightly her knuckles were turning white.
Trey sighed and leaned closer to you. “I’ll handle it,” he murmured, giving you a quick nod before standing.
He approached her like one might approach a wild animal, hands raised in surrender. “Saintess, perhaps we could discuss this outside—”
But no sooner had he stepped within arm’s reach did she trip. On purpose.
In what could only be described as an Olympian-level act of self-preservation, Trey sidestepped so swiftly she ended up flailing through the air like a failed acrobat.
She landed directly on top of the Emperor.
The entire room froze.
The Emperor looked down at the Saintess sprawled across his lap with the bewilderment of someone who just found a raccoon in their bed. The generals were wide-eyed, clearly waiting for his reaction before deciding if they needed to draw their swords. The Pope had started sweating through his robes, clutching his staff like it was his last lifeline.
And then, like an avenging goddess, the Empress rose from her seat.
Without a single word, she grabbed the Saintess by her feathered hairpiece and hauled her up like a disobedient child. The Saintess shrieked, limbs flailing, but the Empress dragged her toward the door with a grim determination.
“OUT.”
The doors slammed shut behind them, and the silence that followed was deafening.
Trey cleared his throat, brushing off his sleeves as if nothing had happened. “Well,” he said, returning to his seat beside you. “That was… eventful.”
“Eventful?” you hissed, elbowing him. “She just dive-bombed the Emperor!”
Trey shrugged, lips twitching. “And yet here we are, still alive. I’d call that a win.”
Across the table, the Emperor straightened his robes, trying to reclaim what little dignity he had left. “Shall we… continue?” he asked, though his tone suggested he wanted nothing more than a stiff drink and a nap.
You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a laugh as the meeting resumed. Somehow, against all odds, you managed to get back to planning strategy. But you knew this story was one for the history books. Or at least for drunken retellings later.
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The negotiation room was a grand affair, with gilded walls, an impossibly long table, and an air of tension so thick you could slice it with a butter knife.
The opposing kingdom’s crown princess sat across from your delegation, radiating intelligence and poise. Her every word was measured, her presence commanding, and she somehow managed to make a simple quill look like a weapon of mass destruction.
Meanwhile, your prince was... spinning in his chair.
“Wheeeee!”
You felt your soul leave your body.
“Your Highness,” Riddle hissed, his voice laced with the kind of fury only a man on the verge of a migraine could muster. “Compose yourself!”
The prince paused mid-spin, blinking like he’d just remembered where he was. “Right, right. Negotiations. Totally got this.” He picked up a quill and twirled it between his fingers like a toddler pretending to be an adult.
You buried your face in your hands, quietly mourning the future of your kingdom.
Across the table, their saint was the picture of grace, clasping their hands as though ready to bestow divine blessings upon the room. They exuded an aura of peace and righteousness that made you think, Ah, yes, this is what a saint should look like.
And then there was your saintess.
She was currently leaning against the wall, dramatically fanning herself with a peacock-feathered fan that you were pretty sure wasn’t hers. She’d arrived late, claiming she’d been “blessed by the spirits of fashion,” and was wearing a gown so covered in rhinestones that it could probably be seen from space.
You caught Trey’s eye from across the table. He looked entirely too amused, like he was moments away from bursting into laughter. You glared at him, silently begging him to take this seriously.
He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward as if to say, I’m trying.
Thankfully, the Empress had come along for damage control. She sat at the head of the table, calm and unflappable, effortlessly steering the conversation back on track whenever your prince derailed it with comments like, “So, how do you guys feel about dragons?”
When the opposing kingdom’s crown princess suggested an ambassador exchange as part of the peace treaty, the Empress visibly perked up.
“That’s an excellent idea,” she said smoothly. “In fact, we have the perfect candidate.”
You felt a sliver of hope. Maybe she’d suggest Riddle—he was intelligent, responsible, and would undoubtedly represent your kingdom well. Or Trey, whose calm demeanor and charm could win over anyone. Or—dare you dream—maybe even you, since you were clearly the only one in this circus who had a shred of common sense. And the two of you could move away from this hellhole.
“We’ll send the saintess,” the Empress announced, her voice dripping with what could only be described as malicious glee.
You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
The crown princess on the other side of the table looked mildly alarmed. “Um,” she began, clearly searching for a polite way to decline.
“She’ll be an excellent cultural ambassador,” the Empress continued, her smile widening. “She’s... unforgettable.”
Riddle’s eye twitched, but he said nothing. Trey looked down at the table, probably to hide his grin.
The saintess, oblivious to the underlying implications, squealed in delight. “Oh my gosh, finally! I’ve always wanted to travel!”
The opposing kingdom reluctantly agreed—probably under the assumption that taking her would somehow count as reparations.
When you all finally returned home, the atmosphere was noticeably lighter, as though a glittery, rhinestone-encrusted weight had been lifted off your collective shoulders.
Trey leaned over in the carriage, his voice low and amused. “Well, I’d call that a success.”
“Success?” you laughed. “We basically tricked another kingdom into taking her off our hands.”
Trey’s smile was soft as he reached for your hand. “And we averted a war in the process.”
You sighed, but your heart skipped a beat when his thumb brushed against your knuckles. Maybe you could live with this version of “success.”
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Without the saintess egging him on, the prince had downgraded from menace to society to mildly annoying NPC. He still popped up every now and then, offering unsolicited advice on topics he clearly didn’t understand, but Riddle—bless his overworked soul—had finally had enough. As royal advisor, he slapped the prince with permanent probation, effectively keeping him confined to paperwork and far, far away from you and Trey.
Life, for once, was peaceful.
So peaceful, in fact, that you and Trey found yourselves back at that restaurant—the same one that had become the backdrop for two very traumatic encounters. It felt like tempting fate, but Trey, ever the optimist, assured you that lightning wouldn’t strike thrice.
And for once, he was right.
The food was good, the atmosphere was cozy, and not a single insufferable royal barged in to ruin the evening. You both laughed, reminisced, and indulged in desserts that Trey—being the baking connoisseur he was—had plenty of opinions about.
By the time you left the restaurant, the streets were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. The air was crisp but not cold, and everything felt oddly serene, like the universe was apologizing for all the nonsense it had previously thrown your way.
As you walked side by side, Trey suddenly stopped.
You turned to face him, confused. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he knelt down on one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.
Your brain short-circuited.
“Trey—”
“Before you say anything,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with emotion, “I just want you to know that despite how things started between us... I’ve never regretted a single moment with you.” He looked up at you, his green eyes warm and sincere. “You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life making you just as happy.”
He opened the box, revealing a ring—simple, elegant, and undeniably perfect. “So... will you marry me? Again?”
You stared at him, your chest tight with emotions you couldn’t even begin to untangle. And then you laughed—because how else were you supposed to process the sheer ridiculousness of everything that had led to this moment?
“Yes,” you said, your voice trembling with joy. “Of course, yes.”
He stood, sliding the ring onto your finger with a smile that could have melted glaciers.
And then he kissed you—soft, slow, and so full of love that it felt like the world around you ceased to exist.
Somewhere in the distance, you thought you heard a cat knock over a trash can, but nothing could ruin this moment.
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Series Masterlist
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neeeooon · 3 months ago
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when you’re sick ;
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blue lock x gn!reader
isagi yoichi
-> the unlikely return of momsagi????
-> he doesn’t even really have to say anything. he just hangs out with you, subtly checking your temperature when he thinks you’re sleeping, and making sure you have enough blankets and water
-> you are suspicious. “how did you learn to be so… caring?” “?! i’m always caring!” “you laughed when i fell down the stairs.” “cause it was funny! who falls down the stairs anymore, y/n? be honest.” “😐”
-> despite that, he does take good care of you. if you ask him for something, he doesn’t argue or tease you. isagi will simply kiss your forehead and get whatever it is you need
itoshi rin
-> rin doesn’t miss practice. not even when he broke three fingers on his left hand. so for him to call off when you tell him you aren’t feeling well, you panic a bit
-> you had the flu, and while it was annoying, you’d live. rin’s sudden presence made you think otherwise
-> “i’m dying.” you’d announce as rin feeds you soup, and he’d raise a brow at you. “you’re not dying.” “you wanted to spend my last moments together. i’m dying.”
-> eventually he convinced you that you’re not dying and that practice was going to get canceled anyway due to half the players getting the flu as well
barou shouei
-> ocd clean freak maid barou is struggling
-> you have a common cold, nothing too bad, and are still able to be a functioning member of society (at least you think so)
-> when barou heard that first sniffle from you, you were placed on house arrest and locked in your room so he could disinfect them entire house
-> after a few hours, you got bored and went downstairs to get some water. when barou spots you by the fridge, he freaks
-> “y/n?! what are you doing out of the infectious zone!!” “i’m thirsty..?” “go back upstairs! i’ll leave water outside the door for you.” “…”
-> you know he means well, so you don’t argue as you trudge back into solitary confinement
mikage reo
-> he goes all out
-> you’re sick?? nope. reo is with you all the time, asking what you need, getting whatever that is, and even offers to call an in-house doctor for you when you don’t instantly get better
-> “reo, it’s just a cold. i’ll be better tomorrow.” “but that’s so far away :( what do you need? i’ll get it for you!“
-> he surrounds you with plushies and puts on your favorite tv shows and makes sure you never have to lift a finger until you’re all better
nagi seishiro
-> he becomes your shadow
-> when you tell him you’re sick and want to lay in bed all day, he simply nods and slips into bed with you
-> “you’re gonna get sick,” you tell him as he buries his face into the back of your neck. “hmm you can take care of me next, then.”
-> nagi just hangs out with you until you’re feeling better. he lets you watch as he plays games and will bring you delivered food since neither of you would survive his cooking
-> he does get sick, and you do end up taking care of him
michael kaiser
-> he gets worried whenever you aren’t being your normal self, and the flu sucked all the energy out of you
-> kaiser doesn’t want to bother you or risk annoying you while you’re sick, so he kind of sulks around and pokes his head into your room every now and again to ask if you need anything
-> you find his behavior cute and a little pathetic, so when he appears a third time, you ask him to mask up and join you in bed
-> he’ll hold you tight as you watch youtube together, and you assure him that you’re fine and will be better in no time
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eternal-sunflowers · 2 months ago
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i don't think that people really understand how mentally fucking draining it is to live with chronic illness. like, people talk about it a lot, sure. but i feel like it is constantly kind of a shrugged off thing that people don't understand the weight off.
how exhausting it is to have your body not be able to do things, while your brain carries on as if it can.
how exhausting and painful it is to try to do things and not fully be accommodated for your needs.
how exhausting goddamn brain fog is. it gets me every day it feels like and i'm still surprised.
how exhausting and frustrating it is to be ill and to think you're having a good day, but SURPRISE, here's a flare, or a bunch of symptoms, or whatever, and now you're in pain and can't do anything. you can't make the pain stop. you just have to feel it.
how exhausting it is to know that nothing will take the pain away. that you literally just have to live with it. and that people won't get it. they won't understand that you are constantly in pain, all the time, and just have to act like you aren't.
how exhausting it is to be exhausted. the fatigue is awful. it just catches me and i can't do anything. i can't move or speak or anything. i just have to exist in it.
it's so annoying and exhausting to see my body give up and to know that i can't really do anything to stop it or cure it. it's so exhausting. it makes me want to cry constantly. i feel so tired and worn down and angry and depressed.
and yet, i have to continue on, like a normal functioning member of society. i have people look at me like an imposition. i see people talk down on chronically ill or disabled people online all the time and complain about us ruining society or taking away resources or whatever the fuck bullshit.
and it makes me feel so shitty that society perceives my only worth as my physical ability to contribute to a fucked up system.
and yet, we carry on, day after day, in hopes it will get better.
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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months ago
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Pipsqueak's Halloween
Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader
Summary: The seventh of my Halloween-centric fics
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When Ellie first found out how seriously you and Daan took Halloween, she hadn't expected this.
She'd expected some trick or treating, of course. Maybe some horror movies, child appropriate obviously. There may have been pumpkin carving but Ellie hadn't ever considered she would be sitting in the car by herself.
She drums the side of the steering wheel, eyes narrowed as she leans forward to check through the windscreen.
All the other families she spies aren't you and Daan.
It wouldn't be difficult to spot either of you.
You're both wearing very stupid Teletubby onesies that makes you stick out from a mile away.
But, yet, you're both nowhere to be found until maybe half an hour (and two packets of skittles) later when Ellie spots one red and one green furry onesie come sprinting up the road.
Daan's yelling something that Ellie can't hear, mouth moving.
Ellie frowns, trying to lip read.
You're yelling something too.
You can't quite keep up with Daan's pace, you're still a kid after all, but Daan's half tugging you along, a tight grip on your hand.
In the end, Ellie loses the lip reading battle and just rolls down the window, sticking her head out of it.
"What?!"
"Start the car!"
"What?!"
"Start the car!"
"Huh?"
"The car!" You interrupt, opening Ellie's door and clambering in, climbing over her to go tumbling into the back," Start it!"
Ellie barely has any time to react as Daan also uses her now open door to climb in. She hauls herself over Ellie's body, slamming the door shut at the same time on her way to the front passenger seat.
"Start the car!" You both snap at her as you spy someone else come running down the street towards you.
"Okay, okay," Ellie says," We're going. We're going."
She throws the car in reverse, backing out of her parking spot as the man who ran after you yells and shakes his fist.
"Did-Did you two do something to him?" Ellie asks," He looked pretty angry."
"I don't know," Daan says," Some people just have those kind of faces. It was nothing."
"Really? He was pretty angry."
"Some people just don't know how to take a joke, Ellie," You say from the backseat.
Ellie frowns, angling her rear view mirror to look at you properly.
You've got the same innocent, butter wouldn't melt in your mouth smile that you wore when Ellie found all of her bras hidden under the sofa cushions and her phone chargers in the back of the fridge.
"Alright," She says, slamming on the breaks," What did you two do? Huh? What did you do this time?"
Ellie isn't used to being the voice of reason of the family.
That's normally Daan, which is another surprising thing for people outside of the family to realise. But Daan's been your mother for years now and she's used to all your tricks and even though she can be a bit childish herself, she's still trying to raise you as a functioning member of society.
So, usually, Daan is the voice of reason in the family.
Especially on occasions where she catches you and Ellie attacking each other with Nerf guns in the early hours of the morning.
But there are times, like this one, where Daan's childish side comes out and Ellie comes to the startling realisation that two Van de Donks is maybe two too many.
"Ellie, you're in the middle of the street," You say, still smiling innocently at her," You can't park here."
"There's no cars coming," Ellie says," And stop deflecting. What did you do?"
"Ellie," Daan says, wearing a matching smile," Why do you think we did something?"
"Because men running after you down the street, you demanding I make a break for it, all on Halloween means you were up to something."
You giggle. "You're so silly, Ellie. Turn right here."
"Are you really giving me orders right now?" Ellie deadpans," We're not moving until you tell me what happened."
"That's fine," You say," We can walk."
Ellie switches on the locks.
"We egged his house!" You say instantly and Daan groans.
"You weren't supposed to tell her!"
"You egged his house?!"
"Yes," Daan says," She just told you that."
"You-You can't go egging people's houses! It's wrong! It takes ages to clean up and-and that man had a right to be angry with you!"
From the backseat, you shrug.
"Yeah and people shouldn't be getaway drivers for people who egg other people's houses. I guess we've all been incriminated here."
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wheeloffortune-design · 3 months ago
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GUYS. MEN. BOYS.
and other people that have awful dating website pictures and profiles.
Please, make an effort. Girls don't swipe left because they're superficial and wouldn't understand you. They swipe left because your profile is either uninspiring or you look like a serial killer.
Just. Make an effort.
YOUR PICTURE.
Please learn how to take a selfie. This is the right selfie angle:
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Up, and a little bit to the side. You want a nice 3/4 view from above, it hides the double chin, gives your face definition and depth, and looks way better than just a front picture. Learn how to take selfies like a girl, we look amazing in them.
Don't take it from too close, you need to stretch that arm. You need to frame your full head, neck and shoulders.
The white light from the bathroom will highlight all your redness, your pimples, your face imperfections. You want a nice warm light with yellow tones, not white. Or maybe natural light, go stand next to a window.
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The left picture is an immediate no. The right picture is a 'He seems nice, I'll read his profile.'
If you have one of these photos in your profile, sure, just don't make it the first one people will see.
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The sunglasses-and-hat combo hides you. And we honestly don't care about the fish, no matter how huge it is.
YOUR LOOKS
Contrary to general belief, women don't systematically go for traditionally handsome guys. But they do go for well groomed ones. And it's not even that hard, the bar is in hell.
Clothes: wear something clean that fits you nicely. You can look presentable no matter your weight or musculature if you wear the right clothes.
Hair: If you have very thin and lifeless hair, and sometimes a receeding hairline, wearing it long and untied does not help you at all. It makes you look like RiffRaff from Rocky Horror.
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A good haircut can frame your face, highlight your best features. There is no bad hair, only bad haircuts. And don't worry if you're greying or going bald, women don't judge your hair like that. But a bad haircut can make you look like a serial killer.
Also, please, no fedoras or trillbys. They're a red flag and also don't look good on anyone.
And trim that beard.
OTHER PICTURES
You don't need a lot. A good, first photo should be your face, well lit, smiling. You're not aiming for pretty, you're aiming for 'functional member of society'. You just need to look like a normal person.
For the others, try some photos doing the activities you like to do. Don't force the gym photo if it's not really your lifestyle, we're not that impressed anyway. But photos doing the things that you love, that's what will change a 'maybe' into a 'oooh I also like doing that!'. And don't worry about nerdy pictures, if the girls are nerds they will like it. I've swiped right many times when I see cosplay.
YOUR PROFILE
Now, a man is his own worst enemy. Women on dating websites are already open to try, but men so often shoot themselves in the foot.
Don't write something negative about women in general, relationships sucking, your ex, etc etc. If someone has reached your profile text, they don't want to read your bitching. They don't know you, they don't care.
You need to be polite, nice, approachable. Interesting. Tell what you like to do in life, and what you're looking for. It's not hard:
'Hi! I'm Mark, I'm back on this dating app, hoping this time will be the right one! I work a boring desk job, but what I really love is reading weird horror novels, playing retro games, and trying new recipes. I have two dogs, who rule my world. I'm open to new friendships, would like a steady relationship in the end.'
It's that simple.
Also: MAKE UP YOUR MIND ABOUT WANTING KIDS OR NOT.
If I see another profile of a guy who's 40 and still undecided, I will burn down a building. Women need to know if they want kids or not because we have a deadline. They're looking for this in a guy's profile. Wether you want kids or not, write it somewhere.
Don't explicitely talk about sex in your profile, it's creepy. We don't know you. Also, if you manage to chat with a woman, don't start asking questions about sex right away, that never works. You need to understand that we deal with so many creeps. Please don't be another one.
So, tl;dr:
You need to look and talk like a normal, functional human being, who has a job, and hobbies.
You don't need to be extremely handsome, you just need to not scare them away. Dating websites are so full of badly taken pictures and creeps, that seeing just a normal dude who likes dogs is a relief.
The bar is in hell. The effort required to rise above the creeps and weirdoes is minuscule. Go take a well-lit selfie.
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dranosh-haran-of-paleoworld · 7 months ago
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Okay, this is my first time doing this, but I need to say this, to the people who claim Sasuke's a bad clan leader, or that Fugaku and Mikoto would've accepted his relationship with Sakura had the clan survived, you're all idiots and I am not sorry for saying that.
I don't watch or read Boruto as I don't consider anything past chapter 695 as canon, but I'm still going to get this out of the way first. Sasuke never wanted to marry that bitch Sakura, he never wanted a kid with her or whatever. This man is the victim of a state-sanctioned genocide, torture, and humiliation at hands of his own brother whom he loved dearly and admired, and it was all done on orders of the state after decades of systemic segregation, oppression, prejudice, and discrimination. Sasuke was forced to relive the massacre over a million times in the Tsukuyomi and went through this twice once when he was 7 and again when he was 12 or 13, with the latter experience putting him in a coma following Itachi breaking his wrist and ribs, and this nearly killed him had Tsunade not helped him (literally the ONLY good thing she did in the series). If anyone here in the real world experienced this, they'd either be dead or in some kind of mental hospital. The point is that they would be mentally destroyed, and they'd barely be able to function in society. Regular depression already fucks people up as is, and Sasuke went something no one should ever have to go through and it's a miracle he's still able to function as is.
Sasuke also repeatedly to Sakura to fuck off and leave him alone. That bitch repeatedly pestered and harassed him for years, emotionally wearing him down until he agreed to hump and dump her ass once. This bitch emotionally abused this poor guy, so it's no surprise he not only didn't want shit to do with her or her sithspawn of a daughter. This guy wasn't emotionally or mentally stable after what Itachi did to him at 7, and he hasn't been since. Hell, it's said in one of the databooks that Sasuke originally wanted a normal life with family and friends, but Itachi ruined it with his torture sessions. Those of you shitting on Sasuke for not being a good clan leader for not communicating with Sakura or Sarada or something, don't use your heads, those two dumbasses aren't even Uchiha.
Now, onto the other part of my argument, neither Fugaku nor Mikoto would've accepted Sakura being in a potential partner for Sasuke had the Uchiha survived, however, before I start this portion let me admit that this will be hard for me to properly articulate and so I apologize in advance so with that said let's get into this.
Putting aside how shitty and lackluster of an individual Sakura herself is, she also offers or brings nothing to the table.
As other people have so beautifully said before, the Uchiha are one of the oldest and strongest clans in the series. Their lineage goes back thousands of years, dating back to the time of Hagoromo, who himself was considered a myth by the public in the present. Because of this, there's a great deal of prestige, honor, pride, and recognition that comes with their bloodlines' age. Not only that, but the Uchiha are more distinct and well-known than any other clan in the series. The Uchiha are the ONLY clan to possess distinctly potent and voluminous chakra, and because of this, they're only ones who possess and wield one of the most powerful and coveted kekkei genkai in the series the sharingan. This stems from them being the ONLY clan to have inherited the potent chakra and dojutsu of the Shinju.
The Uchiha have their own clan specific culture, mores, values, beliefs, and traditions strictly unique to themselves, for example, the clans' crest can only be worn by the members of the clan who've demonstrated mastery over their signature fireball katon jutsu and as Fugaku says to Sasuke it represents the will of those with fans who manipulate fire, use or mastery over this jutsu also makes that Uchiha a fully fledged member of the clan.
The Uchiha were known and feared throughout the world for their strength, prowess, and renown as a battle clan, so much so that other villages had rules when facing off against them. Every time someone saw or confronted Sasuke, they always brought up his lineage with reverence and fear. Two Kumo shinobi saw him and Taka carrying Bee away, and while they considered rescuing Bee, they immediately changed their minds upon seeing the Uchiha crest on Sasuke's back and instead reported to Ae about what happened. A whole crowd of wealthy patrons showed up at the Chunin Exams to see the last Uchiha battle it out, and that's why Sasuke wasn't disqualified for showing up late to his battle with Gaara during the Exams. During the Warring States Period, the Uchiha were virtually unstoppable with only the Senju due to their jutsu variety and their chieftain the freak Hashirama Senju rivaling them.
Taking all of this into account, there's no reason for a distinguished clan/bloodline like the Uchiha to take an outsider like Sakura into their midst and spoil the bloodline. Bloodline purity is a thing in the real world and persists to this very day. It's actually considered to be a huge transgression for members of distinguished clans, families, and lines to bring outsiders in and spoil their bloodlines by marrying them to the point that they're cast out and probably disowned to the highest caliber for doing it.
I wanna briefly talk about Sakura herself and explain why neither Fugaku, Mikoto, or the rest of the clan wouldn't have accepted her into their midst.
As a shinobi, Sakura is a complete nobody. She has no feats, strengths, capabilities, skills, or whatever that her remotely capable.
Her chakra reserves ridiculously tiny, she can't even handle a trickle of biju chakra. Her skillset is a complete copy pasta of Tsunade's, her skills as a medical nin are surpassed by those of Tsunade, Hashirama, Kabuto and even Sasuke during the time he had Orochimaru's white snake abilities in his system and even after he lost that, as Sasuke's self-taught himself to funnel raiton through his body to avoid mortal injury which he's done during his battles against Deidara, Bee, and Danzo. Sakura hasn't improved on, reinvented, or created her own jutsus. Her super strength is just an extension of her byakugo. She's got no talent for genjutsu or handling vast amounts of chakra. Her speed and agility feats are nonexistent, and her intelligence feats are lackluster too.
Sakura also doesn't come from a distinguished clan or bloodline. Neither she nor her parents are civilians. Let me take this time to clarify that the hidden villages house NO civilians within their midst, the hidden villages are MILITARY powers, everyone within them are soldiers, it would be antithetical for these villages to house civilian populations within them as the civilians contribute nothing to the overall prosperity and function of the village as again these are military powers within the countries. Sakura and her parents are from a smaller or minor clan within the series.
Sakura also doesn't train or take her training seriously. Sasuke points this out to her in canon during the earliest chapters of the Chunin Exams arc, and Sakura still did jackshit about it, only finally taking her training seriously after Sasuke left Konoha for good and defected to Orochimaru. And since the Uchiha again are a battle clan and the most elite clan in canon, someone like Sakura ain't being allowed within a hundred feet of them.
As an individual, Sakura, as I said above, is very lackluster and shitty. This girl has petty self-esteem issues. She knows she's lacking in various departments and tries to compensate for this by latching onto others like a leech and using them for her self-worth, Ino was originally this before Sasuke unwittingly came along. She's very shallow and vain, too.
She knows absolutely nothing about Sasuke from minor things like whether or not he wore glasses, to serious things like him being an orphan, which is ridiculous since everyone else at the academy knew these details before they were made genins. She doesn't question or try to understand Sasuke or his motivations.
She's an asshole to pretty much anyone and everyone around her whenever Sasuke's not around in canon, including other women.
She broke off her years' worth of friendship with Ino over a boy who didn't know she existed and wanted nothing to do with her. She's also made numerous attempts to downgrade and put Ino down, despite the fact that Ino was the first person to treat her with kindness, helped her with her bullies, and was the first person to validate her. Ino was also the one to try and mend and patch up their relationship. Hell, Sakura wanted Sai to call Ino ugly and was pissed when he didn't.
During the War Arc, she disrespected Tsunade, her own mentor who turned her from a nobody to a decently capable medical shinobi.
She taped a picture of her in her thirties over a picture of Karin with Sasuke and spreads rumors to Sarada about other women, like Ino trying to take Sasuke away from her.
She frequently insults and assaults Naruto, and it isn't comedy relief as she does this even after he saves her or treats her nicely. She assaulted Sai for calling her ugly despite the poor guy being a slave and Sakura name calling Naruto on a regular basis. She also attacked Konohamaru before calling her an ugly bitch (which was based on his part lol). She was also pissy about his and Naruto's sexy jutsus only to act like a fan girl when he showed her hot naked dudes, like Sasuke. So she's a hypocrite.
And she doesn't care about her own parents, and actually disrespected them, Naruto's parents, and Sasuke's as well. She tried in canon to invalidate the importance and love Sasuke had for his parents and clan, and that's tremendously disrespectful. Hell, in Boruto, she repeatedly chased after Sasuke despite being pregnant with Sarada putting her at risk, discarded the umbilical cord, which is a serious taboo, wrecked her house when Sarada asked her a simple question or two about her father, Karin frequently sends Sarada gifts instead of Sakura.
The Uchiha as a whole care deeply about one another and all within their clan, and someone like Sakura, who's again vain, shallow, petty, selfish, disrespectful, and ignorant would NEVER be considered fit to join them.
Let's play a little game of What if? Because this is something I've thought about for a while.
Following Sasuke's successful usage and mastery of the Uchiha fireball katon in front of Fugaku who himself chooses to make Sasuke his heir, Hiruzen decided to not only personally meet with and apologize to Fugaku and the Uchiha for the false accusations and punishment over the 9-Tails attack, but he also grants the clan the rights and positions of power that they deserved from the beginning, even stepping down as hokage and letting Fugaku become hokage then and there, but Fugaku maintains his decision on Sasuke being the next clan head. If this scenario took place, there's no way in Hell Sakura's going to be anywhere near Sasuke. He would've been even more untouchable for her than he already was in canon. Sasuke was already very clan oriented and duty bound in canon. He was fervently loyal and devoted to his clan and cared deeply about what they and his family thought of him, outsiders be damned. Fugaku isn't allowing any of his children, especially his heir, to marry an outsider like Sakura. The Uchiha clan in its entirety wouldn't have accepted this either. There's no way they would've accepted their future chieftain marrying a non-Uchiha, and if they did accept it, they would've accepted someone of equal standing or prestige as them. Fugaku and Mikoto would've arranged a marriage for Sasuke, and he wouldn't have objected to that. After all, Sasuke was pulling out all the stops in canon to make his father happy, and he was already extremely close with Mikoto and was well liked and respected by the rest of the clan so marrying someone his parents picked out for him is something Sasuke's definitely doing.
Let's also not forget that Sasuke's extraordinary on all fronts, in terms of beauty, skill, strength, talent, and prodigiousness, all of this, and his chakra volume and potency are through the fucking roof even the standards of his own clan. Sasuke's Sharingan is the most powerful and potent within the series since or after Indra’s which is insane as only Indra inherited his fathers chakra.
Orochimaru and Obito both knew and explicitly stated that Sasuke's Sharingan and chakra were more powerful than Itachi's. In canon, Sasuke was supposed to be THE vessel for Orochimaru, the last one he'd EVER need. Obito's entire Infinite Tsukuyomi plan hinged on utilizing Sasuke at EMS and connecting him to the Gedo Statue, something Nagato, Konan, Zetsu, and no doubt Kisame knew all to well. Kabuto knew this, too, and he himself had his own plans for Sasuke. He blackmailed and helped Obito fight a war for Sasuke, and that war was fought to see who between them could get to Sasuke first. Everyone wanted Sasuke for one reason or another, either for his looks (Sasuke's the most good-looking character in the series), his talents and skills, and abilities everything. Madara, Tobirama, Orochimaru, Obito, Zetsu, Gai, Jiraiya, Cee, Darui, Bee, Mei, Hagoromo, Kurama, Karin, Jugo, Suigetsu, Kabuto, Kakashi, Hiruzen, Neji, Tenten, Deidara, Nagato, Konan, Kisame, and Fugaku (when Sasuke performed their clans rite of passage jutsu at the age of 6 only a week after being shown it once) all of them to varying degrees were aware and dumbstruck by Sasuke's gifts and many of them wanted him.
Sasuke's skills with the sharingan, chakra, and Ninjutsu are beyond profound. He's genetically capable of awakening the EMS and the most unique rinnegan in Shinobi history.
In this alternate timeline, Sasuke's going to be trained to hell and back by not only Fugaku and everyone who he deems fit to train him. As he grows and matures Sasuke's parents and clan, ARE going to take notice of all of these aspects and gifts of his, and they're going to be especially picky about who his bride would be, as the next head of the Uchiha clan especially one like Sasuke with his looks, skills, talents, wealth, and prestige can't and won't marry just anyone especially without the consent of his parents and clan.
In this scenario, Sasuke's future wife would either be another Uchiha (the most logical conclusion) or someone else from another distinguished clan or bloodline. I see people mentioning Ino and Karin on this topic since their love for Sasuke while still being in part because of his beauty is still way more genuine than Sakura's. Karin was saved a few times by Sasuke, and he ultimately was the one who allowed to take control over her own future. She knew and understood Sasuke the most, and her relationship with Sasuke is the most erotic in canon.
Ino's love for Sasuke was described as tender by her father, and it was never about herself but how he brought her joy.
Frankly I don't object to either of them being with Sasuke, although I would like someone to help me understand how Ino from a bloodline perspective would be a good match for Sasuke as Karin is an Uzumaki and her clan has been around as long as the Uchiha so I can see why Fugaku and Mikoto would've accepted her as a future daughter-in-law, but Ino I feel like I'm missing something else or I'm just over thinking it in regards to her. Ino and Karin are also better individuals than Sakura and capable shinobi, their skills, abilities, and lives having nothing to do with Sasuke and instead being completely independent of him. Neither of them were pushy and respected Sasuke's boundaries to a better degree than Sakura.
This was a long-winded post, I know, but essentially, Sakura ain't ever hooking up with Sasuke at all, Fugaku and Mikoto ain't letting her anywhere near him.
Before I close this off, I want to ask anyone who reads this. Who else do you think Fugaku and Mikoto would've accepted as Sasuke's bride in the little what if I put above? Let me say I'm not a shipper, and like others, I find the Naruto fandom's obsession with shipping to be incredibly stupid and annoying. I am staunchly in the Pro Uchiha, Sasuke, Madara, Indra, Fugaku, and Mikoto camp, the Uchiha its members and lore, as well as the real world myths and lore used by Kishimoto to create them all capture me. But admittedly, I do agree with some people who agree that Karin and Ino would've been better partners, and that really had me thinking about who else Fugaku and the rest of the clan would've saw as fit to marry Sasuke and join the clan, so yeah I'm curious to know your thoughts and opinions on this topic as well, however, I do not agree with the Sasuke x Hinata ship, I want to shoot that down quickly, that shit ain't happening.
But again, this is a very long first post of mine on Tumblr, so yeah, thanks for reading.
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capseycartwright · 7 months ago
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knowing damn well that i haven't been touched by you
Buck’s been having a really weird year. Buck died, and he realised he was bisexual, and he got a boyfriend, and Christopher left and went to Texas after he walked in on Eddie kissing his dead mother’s doppelganger, Eddie had grown a depression mustache, and Gerrard was back at the helm of the 118 and Buck felt like he was starring in a Netflix Original about how a perfectly normal, functional, member of society was driven to commit murder.
- or, Buck's got a boyfriend, Eddie comes out and starts dating men, and Buck loses his entire mind, actually.
ao3 link
Buck’s been having a really weird year. 
He got struck by lightning, and he died (for three minutes and seventeen seconds – and sometimes he thinks he still catches Eddie counting the seconds past that, reassuring himself that Buck is alive, and he’s here, and he’s breathing, and most times Buck catches himself counting along with Eddie, needing the assurance of his own existence) and then he came out as bisexual. The two things weren’t related, he knew. Buck didn’t think they were related, at least – he’d heard of people suddenly speaking new languages after they’d been struck by lightning, but he’d never heard of anyone’s sexuality changing as a result of a lightning strike, so he figured he needed to blame that one on a lifetime of unconscious repression. 
Buck died, and he realised he was bisexual, and he got a boyfriend, and that was also weird. Not that Tommy was weird, or anything – it was just weird to say he had a boyfriend. Tommy had a spare toothbrush in Buck’s ensuite bathroom, and a shirt he’d left behind one evening after Buck had spilled red wine on him (it was good to know he still got clumsy with his feelings even when they were for a man) and it hadn’t gotten more serious than that, yet, but Buck still had a boyfriend, and it was strange to say that out loud.
Buck died, and he realised he was bisexual, and he got a boyfriend, and Christopher left and went to Texas after he walked in on Eddie kissing his dead mother’s doppelganger (fair, but also: Eddie was at the very least having a weirder year than Buck) and Buck’s best friend had been in a pretty consistent downward spiral since. 
Eddie wasn’t self-destructing in a familiar way, which Buck also felt was weird. Buck had known Eddie for seven years now, and he’d considered Eddie his very best friend for six years and eleven months of that time, and so he was intimately familiar with the ways in which Eddie liked to self-destruct. Cage fighting, for one, and smashing up his bedroom, for another – but fundamentally, Buck knew, Eddie lashed out and tried desperately to grab onto the things he could control as his life fell apart, but this time, he wasn’t doing that. 
Eddie had grown a depression mustache. That was definitely new – though, Buck supposed there was some element of control in there too, Eddie changing up his appearance because it was one of the few aspects of his life he had control of. The depression mustache gave Eddie a sort of sad Freddie Mercury energy that, frankly, kind of worked for Eddie. He was like a depressed 80s popstar. Very demure, very mindful – May had told him that. Buck still wasn’t sure if he understood the reference. He’d had TikTok for a while, but raging ADHD and shortform video content was a recipe for disaster, he’d quickly learned, so he’d deleted the app, and – anyway, the point was, Eddie was morphing into depressed Freddie Mercury, just without any real fashion sense. Sorry, Eddie.
read the rest on ao3
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starseungs · 8 months ago
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of fishes and chocolate muffins. ksm.
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kim seungmin x gn!reader — working the morning shift at a cafe on weekdays isn't really the best, entertainment wise. still, eavesdropping on your customers wasn't something you did on a daily basis. it just so happened that two of your regulars had something in store for you today.
GENRE/S — fluff, humor, a pinch of angst, cafe/coffee shop au, writer!seungmin (barely mentioned) • 1.2k words
WARNING/S — profanity for humor, seungmin is pretty down in the dumps for most of this, part 2 of this fic but a different y/n, mentions of unrequited love
( ✒️ ) happy birthday to @seungiepaws !! here's your request for a part 2 of universe lovie, i know i said i'll do a drabble as a gift but it ended up a little longer so you're getting a whole fic mwah <3 i hope you like it
2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
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The small bell perched on top of the cafe’s entrance door chimed softly at the arrival of a new customer. Your well-rehearsed greetings immediately followed, words racing out of your lips before you could even think twice. It really didn’t matter whether you meant them or not. As long as the guest felt welcomed, then that meant you were already doing your job well.
You doubt any of them ever even acknowledged your efforts, anyway. That was just how the world worked on a normal Monday morning—everyone running on autopilot until the seemingly brainless hoard of zombies got their lethal dose of caffeine or sugar and started acting like proper functioning members of society for the rest of the day. Then, the cycle repeats.
As an “all-rounder” cafe employee (as you liked to call yourself), this was just another day in the bigger scale of the year. Not too important, nor was it a particularly boring day. That simply wasn’t possible if you were working at a cafe, or really, just working in general.
“You’re always here, dude.” An exasperated voice groans from the window booth next to the serving counter. You recognized his face right away as one of your regulars who looked like a hamster. “At this point, you need to pay this place rent.”
The man he was talking to rolled his eyes with a scoff, even though his fingers never stopped typing on his laptop’s keyboard. “I’m a paying customer. Objectively, I’m already giving them money to stay here.”
You couldn’t help but silently snort at the guy’s comeback. He wasn’t entirely wrong, after all. This cafe’s prices already took into account the amenities they could use here. So technically speaking, as long as customers bought something from the cafe’s menu, they could stay for as long as they want until the establishment closes. That’s not usually the case, though. Most people still had places to be and other things to do other than have a staycation on some random cafe seat.
Note that you said “most” instead of “all”. Of course, there were always bound to be those who, for the lack of a better description—overstayed their welcome. 
And one of them is that chestnut-haired male who was currently getting berated by his friend.
“Seungmin, seriously!” The other guy, who you finally remembered being named Jisung from his previous orders, exclaimed in concern. “You can’t just stay here all day, every day. I know you’re trying to get over your roommate, but at least make use of your rent?” Jisung almost pleads.
You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, as the topic seemed awfully private, but what exactly could you do from the close proximity of the counter and their booth? It’s not like you were judging the two of them. There was no harm intended, and you were sure you’d still go about your day as usual with or without this newly obtained knowledge from strangers.
Seungmin sighed. “I don’t think you want me to be cooped up in my room writing either, so what do you really want to achieve?” His hands finally parted ways from his keyboard for the first time in about an hour. “Jisung, you know being alone in the apartment is only going to remind me of how my roommate is out there with their boyfriend being all happy and enjoying life while I’m over here writing sappy fictional love stories because I don’t have one of my own.”
“Oh, but you do.” Jisung huffs. “It’s just the unrequited kind.”
“Haha, very funny.”
“Just saying,” he comments. “I’m gonna let you sulk all you want as part of your healing process, but you really shouldn’t be sacrificing yourself just for the thought of them. You deserve better, Min.”
If you could only agree out loud, then you already would’ve. Unfortunately, that meant revealing the fact that you’ve been secretly listening in to the personal conversations of your customers, and you weren’t completely sure if that was even legal for you to do so. Still, what are they going to do? Charge you for having ears?
“I don’t know,” Seungmin mutters. “I’ll manage it eventually.” And to this, Jisung only frowns.
Now, you were just as frustrated as Jisung was. Seungmin is an attractive guy—you were one hundred percent certain that he could get anyone head-over-heels for him if he wanted. And yet, here he was, a monotone mess over unrequited love? Whoever that roommate is, they had severely failed to see the vision since if that was you, best believe you weren’t letting him go just like that. 
Seungmin had honestly caught your eye ever since the moment he started going to this cafe. To put things into perspective, you were practically all smiles for the rest of the day every time he came to order something in the mornings before his daily schedule. When he started staying for whole days, it was only a matter of time before you ended up shooting your shot, even if you barely knew anything about him. Heck, the most you even knew about him was that he liked the chocolate muffins the most here!
A plate of chocolate muffin was heavily plopped down on the two men’s table, startling them due to the sudden act. They exchanged confused glances before Jisung cleared his throat to speak. “Uh—we didn’t order that.”
“It’s on the house.” You pursed your lips.
“What?” Seungmin asks, dumbfounded. You knew he was going to ask for a reason until he saw the look on your face while staring at him. His expression quickly shifted to one of mortification. “Were—were you eavesdropping on us?”
You clicked your tongue. How were you finding his reaction to that so cute? “Look, I didn’t mean to,” you explain. “See that counter? Just how far do you think my station is to your booth for me not to hear a single thing?” Seungmin only grumbles—probably to hide his embarrassment.
“Alright, sure. Whatever,” he says. “I still don’t need that muffin.”
Your eye twitched involuntarily. All of a sudden, you were already leaning on their table with narrowed eyes pointed at the laptop-facing man. “Okay, listen here, you soggy rained-on puppy.” You could have sworn you heard Jisung choke. “This is gonna sound really shitty of me, but there are plenty more fish in the sea. The same goes for your experiences in life. Trust me, you’re not even close to losing those opportunities yet. Unless you’re trying to live like a saint, that is. So grow some balls after your little pity party.”
“That was,” Seungmin exhales shakily. “Vaguely threatening. But somehow I’m not as offended as I thought I would be, so—uh, thanks?” He taps lightly on the plastic cup of his drink, looking away awkwardly.
You lifted yourself off the table and crossed your arms. “My name is Y/N. I work here every morning on the weekdays.” 
“Right,” he hums, still not glancing your way and instead facing the baked good you dropped by their tabletop. “So, is this muffin really free?”
All you let yourself give him was a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah. Just call me whenever or something. Congratulations on hooking a new fish,” you said without shame before walking away back to your station.
If you only looked back for a moment, you would’ve seen Jisung gasping for air from laughter with an incredibly red faced Seungmin blanking out as he held a serious staring contest with his muffin.
You could only hope that cheered him up a bit.
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MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung
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satorusugurugurl · 11 months ago
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Cake
Summary: Nanami Kento has a bubble butt, and you love it. 🎂
Characters: Nanami Kento x AFAB!Reader
Word Count: 935
Warnings: Butt groping, biting, fluff
A/N: just a drabble inspired by a conversation with @sugurubabe ! I would bounce nickles off that butt.
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Nanami Kento had a bubble butt, one that looked amazing in his tailored suit. You could easily spot him across the courtyard at the school. It was so full and slapable, but you had to refrain from allowing yourself to let your hormones take over.
At least when you were in the public eye.
It was free range when you were alone or in the comfort of your own home! Nanami never knew when you’d lose yourself to your carnal desires. But he always felt it. He could be walking in front of you down an alleyway and SMACK! The impact would make him jolt and hiss through his teeth as you giggle like a gremlin bolting off in front of him. Or he could be just minding his business making tea in the kitchen to feel you grope both cheeks in your hands and massage him. Nanami would sigh as he gripped the counter, waiting for you to satisfy your needs.
The fact you were obsessed with his ass didn't bother him. He almost found it endearing. If giving him a smack or massage made you happy, he would roll his eyes with a chuckle and wait for you to hurry off before going about your day with a pep in your step.
Smacks and massages were normal, something that happened nearly every day. You like to throw in the occasional pinch now and then to keep him on his toes! But for the most part, Nanami Kento was used to your antics.
At least, he thought he was.
The sun had set by the time you got home after an exhausting day at work. You had no energy to eat, watch TV, or function as a contributing member of society. You could only take a hot shower and crawl into bed to snuggle your boyfriend.
The thoughts of the warm water against your muscles kept you moving forward until you stepped through the doorway into your bedroom. The nightstand light was on, illuminating the room in a warm yellowish hue. One that highlighted the curves of your boyfriend's body, who was lazily flipping the page of his book. He must have gotten out of the shower recently because his hair was still damp. But he was ready for bed as he lounged in his black t-shirt and blue and black plaid sweats.
The same plaid sweats that hugged his ass perfectly.
You stared at his bubble butt, mouth-watering as your hands twitched and screamed for you to smack it, pinch it, and massage it. But deep, deep down, the gremlin in you wanted more. It was desperate for more. There was an aching in your teeth, and you knew what needed to be done.
Your boyfriend was so enthralled in his book that he never heard you coming. He hummed, flipping the page as you tip-toed towards the side of the bed, eyes locked in on your target. Just as he flipped another page, you struck.
You jumped forward, chomping your teeth down on his bootylicious butt. Nanami’s whole body went stiff. His eyes went wide, hands dropping the book he held before he jerked his head to look back at you. You were chomping down on his ass over and over again, moving from the left cheek to the right, making Nanami’s whole face turn bright red.
“What is wrong with you?!” He asked as you finally pulled away. Admiring the wet bite marks you left in your wake.
“Just had to try the cake you so kindly had on display~!” You go in for another bite only to have him clench his cheeks together. “Awee! Kento, don’t clench so tight! How can I bite down if you do that?!”
“That's sort of the whole point!”
With a pout, you sigh softly, getting up, smacking his plump ass. “Fine~ thanks for the meal.” Turning on your heel, Nanami sighed, relaxing against the bed and turning his head to watch you walk away with flushed cheeks. Only to watch you turn back around, pouncing on the bed and chomping down on his now unclenched ass.
“Ah!” Nanami growled as you both wrestled each other. “You brat!” he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked it gently, pulling you off of him.
You were a giggling, flushed mess. You bit your lip, and your nose scrunched up as Nanami chuckled. You were absolutely adorable despite your need to sink your teeth into him. Nanami gently pulled you up, wrapping his arms around you.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You giggle louder, nuzzling your face into his chest.
“I love you, Kento.”
“I love you too.” He held you close. “But I'm keeping you here until the urge to bite my ass is gone.” You perked up, and the sudden moment caused your boyfriend to tighten his gaze. “Stop.”
Your bottom lip stuck out as faux sorrow tugged at your features. “I can't bite you ass?”
“No.”
“Just your ass?”
“Yes, Love, my ass is off limits.”
“Oh good.”
There was a mischievous tone in your voice. One that had every muscle in Nanami’s body tensing up as he slowly turned to look at you. There was no time to react or protest as you bit down his pectoral, nibbling and chewing at the muscle. Nanami stroked your head with a heavy sigh, smiling wide as your teeth nibbled gently over him. If this made you happy, he’d let you have fun.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe e @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3
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melmedarda · 11 months ago
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arcane ep 1 dashboard simulator
🌉 pilt-power Follow
did we all hear about the explosion in the kiramman building in midtown? somebody's getting fired and i hope its old cassie
🗝️ kirammankitty Follow
literally get off her case? yes it was an apprenta from her clan whos apartment was blown up but its not her fault. she is a mother and a fully functioning member of society you're just jealous you'll never be as rich and influential as she is
🌉 pilt-power Follow
don't know how to tell you this but she's not gonna fuck you.
#some people wanna eat the rich and not in the cannibalistic way #anways fuck the kirammans
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🏚️ zaun-and-zest Follow
deckard won't admit it but he got his ass handed to him by a girl. so much for his hardass exterior
🥊 fist-in-your-face Follow
are you saying girls can't fight?
🌐 worldstarzaun Follow
i saw thatttt bro, she let him have it. we were like let him get up, let him get up #deckardassbeating
🏚️ zaun-and-zest Follow
no i'm implying he is weaker than a girl do not put words in my mouth i will enforce my foot up your ass
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🍃 downthesump420 Follow
i swear to janna if that pleasure house yordle makes eyes at me again i'm jumping into the pilt and filing a restraining order
🏩 babettes-saggy-tits Follow
why is it you. what do you have that i do not?
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👤 life-in-the-lanes-deactivated-3404985 Follow
those damn kids have got the fucking enforcers breaking down my door and for WHAT. this is why i don't want kids they are too much trouble. normalize celibacy
🍺 alkaholical Follow
you won't have that chance have kids bc nobody will sleep with you unless you pay them
👤 life-in-the-lanes-deactivated-3404985 Follow
my mother will know your name
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🐹 deathtoheimer Follow
you aren't living in zaun if you don't have multiple organ failure!!!!
🐹 deathtoheimer Follow
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👮🏾 grayson-fanpage Follow
Grayson sighted in the Lanes, at Benzo's shop.
🚨 graysonsulimatefanboy Follow
grayson pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me im on my knees pleace pick me plouse pick me come over i'm at 69 sidereal st
🫄graysoncocksleeve Follow
mommy longdick just landed back in the lanes!!!!!! welcome mommy longdick!!!!
🚓 graysontheemilf Follow
now what is she doing in the ghetto? free my milf!!! grayson come home baby, the kids miss you!!
🔗 graysons-left-asscheek Follow
humilating how you all are begging over an enforcer who enables piltover's unjust presence and occupation of zaun. disgusting!!! the gray has muddled your minds. that being said, i need grayson to dom me.
🚫 defundthenenforcers Follow
using this post as a blocklist, all of you are sick fucks
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🍻 thelastfop Follow
fuck that piltie marcus his stupid face makes me want to kill someone
💦 dilfvander Follow
a fellow marcus hater on my dash??? legendary because i hate that sleeze bag too. i hope he stubs his toe every morning and gets an itch he can never scratch and falls into the pilt and is run through a ship propeller and his remains float out to bilgewater where he becomes fish food. dishonor on him and his family fr.
🍻 thelastfop Follow
bro said
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bloodblanks · 2 months ago
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one umbrella cover two [mr. scarletella x reader] — chapter xvii.
You recover a both shattering and defining piece of your past.
note: reader is not player (mc).
author’s note: dead dove: do not eat. this fanfiction will contain dark and explicit content, including heavy dub-con, stockholm syndrome, violence, and similar themes.
please read at your own discretion.
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<- previous chapter
“I see.”
Mr. Scarletella’s words echoed in your skull the same way your footsteps reverberated off the desolate corridors.
Once again, you found yourself wandering these forlorn corridors. This time, it wasn’t just the vacant, monotone walls and eerie stains of rust that unsettled you; you were also troubled by what Mr. Scarletella said.
You weren’t sure why, but your earlier interaction left an uncomfortable soreness in your chest, the feeling gnawing at your heart. No... That wasn’t entirely true. You knew, in the back of your mind, why you were feeling the way you did. However, you didn’t want to accept it. Not now, not when you were so close to finally leaving, mere hours—you presumed—away from being able to return to your world. From stopping your monstrous transformation.
You glanced at your hands; the ashen skin had spread down to your elbows. You hoped that they’d return to normal upon reaching your world, or that there would be some remedy for it, though you weren’t sure how you’d go about telling the doctor about your mysterious ailment.
You let out an exasperated exhale, slumping against a nearby wall as you tried to process the situation.
Your skin—there was no use worrying about it right now. You’d deal with that upon returning to your world. No amount of stressing seemed to revert your skin back to normal. It wasn’t a big deal, anyhow. You were sure that even with grey skin, you could be a functional member of society.
You hoped so, at least.
As for the images that came to your mind... You weren’t sure what they were, but your gut had an inkling that these were memories. Your possession of those memories would imply that you had a past as a monster, that you weren’t always human.
But how?
You were aware that all the entities in this realm were once mortal, but you hadn’t encountered a case of the reversed—monsters becoming human. You supposed if one was possible, the other theoretically could be, too. Not that you would know why or how.
It didn’t make much sense, either. You had grown up with your parents as a human; you remembered the vast majority of your childhood. While you were adopted—
You froze, eyes snapping wide open.
Could it be?
As most adopted children did, you too had asked about the existence of your birth parents at some point in time. Your parents had explained that while it was anomalous, there was no trace or record of your birth family. Nobody ever knew where you came from, not even the orphanage, who had simply taken you in after you were found abandoned by yourself.
Your heart accelerated at a rapid pace, your breathing coming out in soft, shallow puffs as you contemplated your existence. Considering the circumstances of which you were brought to the orphanage, it was plausible for you to have been an unnatural creation of this abyss. But how you would have gone from being a grown entity to a human child, you had no clue.
It doesn’t matter, you told yourself. It changes nothing.
It didn’t matter if you were formerly an entity from this realm. What mattered now was that you had a life as a mortal, and you needed to return to it.
Your mind flickered for a moment, back to Mr. Scarletella. You were aware of your growing attachment to the man, but at the same time, you also knew that it was a ludicrous thing to be feeling. It wasn’t normal, not in the slightest, to feel any connection with your captor. Yet the thought following was a flashing mental picture of the pure, loving adoration with which he gazed at you, the tenderness of his movements, and the delicacy he treated you with.
But those emotions would only hinder your escape. You cast them aside. Instead, you began to regulate your breathing, steadying yourself before pushing off the wall.
You mustn’t falter. Not now. Not when you were so, so close.
You continued making your way down the sullen hallways, cautiously passing through rooms, trying your best to avoid any potential untimely deaths. You trusted your instincts, avoiding any rooms that made you uneasy—which, unfortunately, was more rooms than not.
Nonetheless, you were able to continue, even finding some food and water along the way, in the form of a bag of chips and some water from a rusty tap. You were sure that you were going to return to your world poisoned by something, but you didn’t want to risk your body ceasing to function due to lack of sustenance. However, you were noticing that your need for sustenance was gradually decreasing—you supposed it was another symptom of your gradual transformation. You weren’t as thirsty or hungry as you felt like you should be. Although you weren’t feeling unwell, your mind still wandered to your granola bars; if only you had brought them with you. In case you’d need them.
It was too late to worry about that now. It didn’t matter, anyhow—you could eat as much as you wanted once you returned to your world.
You stopped at a peculiar staircase, where a small television-like device was. You were tempted to fiddle with it, but you didn’t think it would be a very wise decision. As you were doing your best to convince yourself not to press anything on it, you heard a rustling sound from the staircase.
Your head whipped towards the source of the noise, your eyes instantly taking in the sight of a figure that ripped a small shriek from your throat. As if electrocuted, your muscles tensed, body paralyzed in terror for the few seconds before the entity tilted its head up to glance at you with a smile.
A soft breath of relief escaped your lips, your body beginning to relax as you realized who it was—the crawling man.
“Hello!” he chirped, seemingly pleased to see you once again. You smiled softly in response, a gentle delight breaking out on your face.
“Hello!” you replied.
“Me find you again!” the crawling man exclaimed. “Me happy!”
“Me happy find you,” you returned the sentiment before asking him a question. “You know door device?”
“Door device?” He appeared confused momentarily, seemingly pausing to think before his characteristic smile lit up on his face again. “Door device! Me know!”
“Possible you bring me?” you asked, silently praying that he’d agree. You didn’t want to continue roaming around here by yourself, and though you knew little about your potential companion, he seemed to be friendly and unthreatening.
The crawling man nodded fervently. “Follow me!”
You followed him, a content smile on your face as you trailed behind his crawling form. The thought of giving him a name, too, crossed your mind. Just as you were wondering if ‘Mr. Crawling’ would be an appropriate name for the man or not, you noticed the metallic stench of blood flooding your nostrils; a rich, dizzying scent that overwhelmed your senses. You glanced around to check where the smell was emanating from, but as soon as you laid eyes on a coagulating puddle of crimson, your mind distorted, the hissing sound of static ringing loudly in your ears as your vision went dark.
Light.
When the shuddering green doors opened at last, they revealed a small box-like interior, a stark white luminescence flooding down from its ceiling.
You tentatively stepped inside, eyelids fluttering slightly as you tried to adjust to the suddenly heightened brilliance. Inside the room there were more of those small squares that you had pressed, all with unknown markings on them. Your fingers curiously skimmed over the surface of these shapes, before settling on a square and pressing down.
Room move.
The doors closed, and you felt the ground beneath your feet rumble, which startled you momentarily before you realized there wasn’t any apparent danger. Still, you felt slightly uneasy as you tried to anticipate what was to come.
Door open.
When the doors opened once again, your eyes drastically widened. The sight before you had completely changed. What was once a dim room that only stretched into the void was now a well-illuminated space, vast and filled with a mysterious, hard substance that lined both the ceilings and floors. It was pale and smooth to the touch, with a bit of grit.
You stepped out of the small enclosure, letting the doors shut behind you. Eyes brimming with wonder and curiosity, you explored your surroundings with awe and reverence, running your fingers along each surface, nook, and cranny.
Another door.
You wandered around the space until reaching an area with more doors. You reached for the nearest one, delight blossoming in your chest when the handle turned and opened with a click.
Once again, you were awestruck by the new environment beyond the door—the softness of the fabric-like floor, the various decorations and devices you failed to recognize, the light scent of something warm and comforting that you didn’t recognize.
Sound.
It was crisp and sharp, a deafening shatter of something thin and frail—the sound that rang through your ears. Your astonishment was immeasurable. Never before had you heard anything like this.
You hastily moved through the room, excitedly looking for the source of the noise. Your search led you to discover another room, much brighter than anywhere else you’ve been before. You instinctively squinted, eyes squeezing to a near-close as you adjusted to the luminosity.
Then you saw it—the most beautiful sight your eyes had ever beheld.
Blood.
Everything was a magnificent blooming red. The oddly shaped hole, filled with crimson-soaked waters and an unknown creature, was right beside where a puddle of burgundy was slowly growing, the liquid seeping through the lines where the floor tiles converged.
Pretty.
You could only gaze upon the scene before you with wonder and amazement, swirls of sanguine reflecting from your pupils. Never had you been more thankful to have been able to leave the void you spent your life in.
You stepped closer.
Want.
Not only was there a pool of water, stained to a rich, striking scarlet hue, there was an utmost beautiful creature laying in the middle of it. You couldn’t help but feel utterly captivated, enchanted by the foreign figure floating unconscious in the waters.
At that moment, you knew. You knew, deep in your bones, burrowed in the marrow itself.
You wanted him.
“You okay?” The crawling man’s voice was the first thing you heard when the shadows clouding your vision began to dissipate. You blinked, slowly opening your eyes and registering the surrounding environment.
You nodded, unable to muster up the words to speak. The discomforting feeling in your chest was more burdensome than ever, the images you just saw still violently flashing through your mind.
Who was that? You couldn’t help but wonder, though you already had a feeling you knew.
Your gut knew it. Your viscera was screaming it. All that was left was for your mind to accept it, right?
You inhaled; a sharp, shaky intake of much needed oxygen.
Mr. Scarletella. The name was blaring so loudly in your mind, it may as well have been accompanied by sirens and flashing lights. The hair, the facial structure, the features themselves—though they’d been distorted, they were unmistakably still him.
Your stomach churned, a low rumbling of nausea stirring in your intestines. You couldn’t help but feel sick, the contents in your stomach threatening to empty themselves. You clamped your hand over your mouth reflexively, taking deep breaths through your nose to steady yourself.
What does this mean? You asked yourself that question, but you already knew.
So this wasn’t just a coincidence. Him taking you was no mere accident—you had known each other, somewhere, at some point in time, in a past life.
At once, all the pieces of the puzzle clicked together, gears shifting into place as your eyes widened with the horror of realization.
The Ghost Apartments. The wealthy young man who built it. The way he vanished without a trace.
Mr. Scarletella. Him taking you to his world. How he yearned so earnestly for a connection with you.
It only made sense, didn’t it? Your lives had entwined at some point and were now entangled again.
Lastly, there was you. The lone creature in the other realm, before it had even become a world—when it was just a never-ending abyss. The one who had brought Mr. Scarletella to the other world. The reason he became a monster.
Oh, how you were guilty, your crimes weighing down every fiber of your being as you struggled to process just what you were and what you had done.
How you felt your sins crawling over the surface of your bare skin, a rancid feeling of vileness sinking into your pores as you swallowed hard, straightening up with a singular resolve.
To run and pretend none of this ever happened.
With great strain, you forced a smile for the crawling man, nodding as you teetered back onto your feet. Gesturing ahead of you, you spoke.
“We go.”
next chapter ->
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if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.
thank you everyone for reading and supporting my work! (。・ω・。)ノ♡
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kimberly-spirits13 · 2 years ago
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SFW Fluff Alphabet w/ Jason Todd
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A= How affectionate are they
he's like a teddy bear and wants to cuddle all the time
he always wants a kiss or a hug and wants you to know how much he loves you
Jason's affection knows no bounds- he makes sure that you feel great and are doing perfect and that everything in life is alright
Cold? He's got a hoodie and a blanket. Sad? He's a leather shoulder to cry on. Happy? He's happy too
he likes to be touching at any moment
On patrol you're rubbing shoulders and he's as close to you as possible without straight up hugging you, he's got a hang on your back, hand on your thigh, he's got both hands holding your hands, you two link pinkies, his hand is in your hair, his hand is on your cheek, any form of touch
B= Bond- What do you bond over
Jay really, really likes reading so if you're into reading, he wants to talk about it a lot
if you're not a reader, well surprise, you are now
hearing him talk so highly of his books makes you want to read, just so you can talk to him more about them
He likes to work on his bike and clean his weapons so if you're down to help him, he'd be so excited
if you also have a tragic backstory, get ready to trauma dump with each other
he's got a deep respect for those who have lived through terrible tragedies and are still functioning members of society (even if it's partial functioning)
C= Cuddles- How do they cuddle
Cuddle monster
like it's cheesy but it's how you describe him
he also loves sleeping on top of you with his head buried in your neck or using your chest as a pillow and he's got his arms wrapped tightly around you
he likes to be the big spoon since he finds it uncomfortable for someone his sized to be cuddled lol
he's a giant so just let him tuck you into his chest and snooze away
he likes to cuddle in minimal clothing sometimes, not in a sexy way but in a he really likes having you close to him at all times
plus, he's a space heater so it's not like you're going to get cold
D= Domestic- What are they like domestically 
he loves being domestic
you two have a nice medium sized apartment with a guest room or two and your bedroom and an office maybe with a big kitchen and living room and a washer and dryer room
He makes bank on that criminal mastermind gig
Plus, if you're working, it helps being dual income
He really likes cleaning around the house and you think it's a stress reliever for him
there are temporary dance breaks during cleaning and he likes to dip you down and kiss you to whatever song is playing- he secretly finds it adorable when you dance on his feet and he will not complain, but don't tell a soul deary
he really really really likes to cook too
Your place always smells like a master piece and Jason really likes going to William Sonoma
it's the fanciest place that he will willingly go to
E= Ego- How much do they think about themselves in a relationship
He's got boundaries like a normal human being, but the dude is really selfless
Jason just wants everything to be alright and he is able to make compromises where they need to be made
the one thing that he really, really cares about is making sure that his weapons, bike, helmet, and things are all in check
I wouldn't recommend going around and messing with anything unless you have to
Like he's not going to be mad at you, but Jason just prefers that that stuff gets left alone unless specifically told otherwise
F= Fights- How are they during and after fights
fights are few and in between but when they happen, they happen
it's not really ever over anything small because you can quickly just talk it out with Jason
if it's over something like a mission or safety or doing something reckless, it's a big fight
he doesn't yell, he hates yelling at you, but his eyes go dark and he's so angry
he's probably clenching his jaw and just has to take a minute to cool off at some points
"I'm not ignoring you, I just can't talk about this while I'm this angry about it."
and he'll go on a brisk walk to cool off
he comes back and sits down and talks about it less angry
Alfred once told him, "it's not you against Y/N, it's you and Y/N against the problem. Don't be upset with each other that you have differing views or wants, that's how humans work, we're all different. Anger only gets grown men into bat costumes Master Jason."
G= Growth- How does your relationship change them
Jason actually becomes more secure in himself
it's like you've taught him that he deserves to be loved, so it's easier for him to accept that he doesn't hate himself
he's more patient, more deliberate with the things that he does and says and because of this, he comes home from patrol less and less injured
H= Hugs-What are hugs like
big bear hugs
he likes to engulf you and make sure that you're not leaving for a little while
He likes all kinds of hugs because it means that he's close to you, but he prefers the ones that turn into cuddle sessions
he'll run his hands through your hair or scratch your back
sometimes when he's having a bad day, he just needs to burry his head in the crook of your neck and have you whisper that it's going to be alright
I= I love you- How fast did it take for them to say II love you
he doesn't say it too fast, but he also doesn't take forever to say it
It's maybe like a year or a bit less into dating and he has to leave for a mission
You were either not going to go because you're not a vigilante, or you needed to stay behind to make sure that some crime mob wasn't starting back up
He says "I love you" when he's about to leave
He doesn't want to leave you, but he knows he has to
He hugs you so tight when you say it back
it means the world to him that you care about him like that
it's a rib crushing soul and he thinks about it the entire mission
J= Jealousy- How jealous are they
I'd say he can be pretty jealous but also he's easily leveled off
if someone is taking your attention and he's not getting as much as usual, he inserts himself into conversations or situations like a Golden Retriever
he just kinds of sits there and stares at your or rubs circles on your hang until you give him attention
If it's someone flirting with you, he likes to make some sort of show out of it
If there's someone flirting with you at a gala (which happens a lot), he pulls you in for a dance and kissing you in the middle of the dance floor
You know what he's doing but you're not going to deny it are you
K= Kisses- How do they kiss/ where do they like to be kissed
He likes to be kissed everywhere
his shoulders, his abs, his collarbone, his neck, behind his ear, his cheek, the forehead, on the lips
you name it
he really prefers a real kiss though
that's his go to
L= Love language- What’s their love language 
quality time and physical touch
he just wants you
Jason would melt into you at any moment if it meant he got to be close to you
He wants to spend time with you, even if you're not doing the same thing, and he wants his body touching yours somehow
M= Mornings- What are mornings with them like-
he's the kind of guy that sets an early alarm if he has to get up so that he can cuddle
mornings are basically always slow and warm and cozy
he likes to cuddle in the morning and have himself wrapped around you
sometimes before bed, he turns the AC colder so that when you wake up, you have to be close together to keep warm
if he wakes up before you, he'll either go back to sleep, or he plays with your hair until you wake up
N= Nicknames- What are their nicknames for you
doll
babe
love
darling
hottie
hot stuff
angel
love
O= On Patrol- What’s it like being on patrol with them
He likes to keep a close eye on you
You have to learn that it's not because he doesn't trust you, it's because he's always worried about the people he loves getting hurt or dying
he wants to make sure that at any moment something goes South, he's there to protect you
he flirts a lot on patrol
He also likes cracking jokes while he's busting skulls
it's one of the more morbid things he does
he likes to team up on patrol and always wants to know what you're doing and how you're doing
the two of you will often be seen near the bank building eating fast food perched on the ledge
he'll totally take you to his favorite gargoyle don't worry
P= PDA- What’s their stand on PDA
loves PDA, loves touching you
he's not gross about it like he's never making out with you in front of a crowd but he's always got an arm around you or a hand on your thigh
There are plenty of pap pictures of him with his arm wrapped around your shoulder while talking to you or glaring at something/ someone
if you're also famous for something, the paparazzi are always there but ten fold the intensity if you weren't famous
articles are always being written about Gotham's favorite couple
America's favorite couple if you're big enough
Q= Quirks- What are their quirks
he really likes to keep things really, really clean
usually your house is spotless because he's cleaning up after himself and you do the same
sometimes partners just get comfy and leave their crap everywhere
not Jason, he's clean as can be, not because he's uncomfortable around you, but because it's comforting for him to be in a non chaotic space
you know that he's stressed when he starts leaving things everywhere
R= Remember- Do they remember the details or the big picture
Jason remembers everything down to the final detail
there's like an always open compartment in his brain that filters and sorts the information about you and your relationship
he knows what you like and dislike, who you're beefing with at all times, what flavor candies are your favorite, what food you don't like, if there's a spice you don't like, he knows how you prefer your clothes and what color metal for jewelry you prefer, he knows how you like the recoil on your guns if you have any, he remembers the washing detergent that you use and the dryer sheet scent and brand
man knows everything
it's like that one kid that just knows random, niche information that no one expects them to know
he knows it allll
S= Security- How do you two feel around each other
he feels so safe and free around you
he just knows that if there is a problem, you'd be able to handle it
If there was a moment when he was taken out, he knows you'd protect him somehow
he gets all soft around you and he feels comfortable letting his guard down
You can trust that he's always there for you and that no matter what, he's going to be there for you
Jason is loving and attentive and wants to take care of you in any way possible
T= Taste- what do they prefer in a partner 
he needs someone that can keep up with him
he's an intellectual, even if doesn't seem like it
he's an analytical person and needs someone that can have conversations with him and be on his level
Like you really don't have to be a straight A student because not all smart people are straight A students
I mean come on, Albert Einstein was reported to be a bad student and he's a genius
he also wants someone that puts some care into themselves
if you're running around without a care in the world, stepping into oncoming traffic because you don't care, it's going to stress him tf out
U= Understanding- How understanding of you are they
Jason is extremely understanding of life
I mean it's screwed him over a few times so he knows that it can get difficult
Jason also needs someone that is understanding of him
they understand why he maybe doesn't want to watch IT, or he sleeps a lot when he can, or he doesn't like loud noises and ticking sounds
Jason being understanding though doesn't mean that he's easy to use
Oh he understands alright
he understands that he hates the people that try and use him for gain
V= Value- What do they value most in a relationship
Jason values someone that will be just as enthusiastic about something as he is
He loves someone that wants to be around him and talk to him
he need someone that he can vent to without judgement
he needs someone that respects his personal boundaries (as any normal human is like)
he needs someone that can understand that even if sometimes he messes up, he's really, really trying to turn out better than he was told he would become
W= Work- Do they balance their work schedule well around your relationship 
he's pretty good at balancing work around your relationship
it helps if you're a vigilante too
sometimes things comes up and he has to skip a date or comes home extra late and he really, really hates it and feels so bad about it
he's sure to call and text you all the time to make sure that you never get stood up somewhere or that you know what he's doing and what his intentions are
He never wants you to feel like you're being left behind or put on the back burner
X= Xtra- Extra headcannons
He's got good taste when it comes to interior design
he got an apartment where he did to make sure that it would always have sunlight during the day
I'd say he's a handy person too
I mean he worked with Bruce his entire life and does mechanics, he can't be that bad at fixing a bad pipe or general maintenance
Y= Yearning- How much do they miss you when you’re apart
Jason hates LOATHS being without you
if you're out of town for a mission or something, he doesn't sleep well and he struggles to chill out
he's always on edge wondering if there's something wrong that needs fixing
whenever you're reunited, he's all over you
the "never leaving you again" mentality
he's not obsessive but he really, really misses you when you're gone
like his other half or one of his lungs is missing
Z) Zeal- How dedicated or enthusiastic about the relationship are they
when he's serious about something, he's all in it
he loves being around you and making leaps in your relationship
he values your company and everything that you have to offer and he just thinks that you're the greatest thing to exist since indoor plumbing
there's no cheating, no longing looks at someone else, there's nothing that indicates anything going on between him and someone else
He's just there for you and that's it
he is yours and yours only and that's how he prefers it to be
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lilyflowerstories · 5 months ago
Text
These Violent Delights | 2
Pairings: Jacob Black x Reader, Edward Culled x Reader
Summary: Y/N Swan is just like every other girl and she likes it that way. Normal is fantastic. Normal creates a functioning member of society. Normal is the reason she moved to a small town to live with her police officer father... only to find out that she gets the farthest thing from what she wanted. // Twilight Re-Write.
Warnings for the series: light violence, light angst, light smut
Word Count: 3.4k
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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The entirety of the lunch period, you couldn’t find the stomach to eat much. Your bowl of tomato soup only had a few spoonfuls taken out of it. But all the saltine crackers were gone. You had gone over and over in your head what you would say to Edward. Now that he was here, you couldn’t remember anything. You had never been in a real confrontation anymore. You took a glance at his table again. 
He looked different than before. Not terribly different, but enough that you noticed. His skin looked less pale and less stretched over his skeleton. The dark circles underneath his eyes aren’t there anymore either. Now, you could see why people said he looked perfect. 
The bell rang and you silently cursed. You couldn’t have been given more time? Reluctantly, you went with Eric and Mike to your biology class. Eric and you looked over when Mike started frantically digging in his backpack. 
“Ah, shit. Hey, tell Mr. Donoghue that I left my textbook in my car and I’m going to get it.” 
“Okay.” 
Mike ran as fast as possible while the two of you continued going to class. Eric sighed before turning to face you as you stood right in front of the doorway to bio class. 
“Hey, so, about prom, I’m the one in charge of communicating with the dj. I’ve lived my whole life here so I know my music choice sucks so I’m gonna need your playlist.” 
“Okay, when?” you asked as you pulled out yout phone to jot down that note. 
“As long as it’s before the month ends, that’s cool. And then dates…  I was wondering do you think Ang—” 
“How you liking the rain, Arizona?” Mike shook out his baseball cap that got soaked in the rain from the run to his car. 
“Guys! Class is about to start. Please take your seats,” Mr. Donoghue cut off whatever Eric was trying to say. If it was important, he’d get back to you later. 
Unfortunately, his lab partner and your lab partner were back so you had to sit with Edward Cullen. There was a slight smile on his face as you walked towards your lab bench. Before you got a chance to say the prepared speech, he spoke. 
“Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day. I’m Edward Cullen.” His voice was smooth like coffee and somewhat low in its sound. “You’re Y/F/N Swan, right?”  
“Y/N.” 
You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, turning your head to listen to Mr. Donoghue’s lesson. He must have been in cahoots with the universe because his assignment was partner work. The prize? A golden onion that has no value until he comes up with what it stands for. At least only one person could look through the microscope at a time. Edward pushed the device towards you. 
“Ladies, first.” 
“Why were you gone?” You looked in the microscope. “And it better be a good answer too… It’s prophase.” 
“Mind if I check?...Yeah, I was out of town for a couple days. It’s prophase.” 
“Like I said and the empty chair next to me told me that much.” 
“Personal reasons.” 
“Do personal reasons involve rude interactions?” 
“Uh, no. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t the best day for me before you showed up to class.”  
“Apology accepted, I guess.” 
“So are you enjoying the rain?... What?”
You tried to stop laughing. “You’re asking me about the weather?” 
“Yeah, I guess I am.” 
“Well, no, not really. I’m not really a fan of any cold or wet place.” 
Edward chuckled as he checked another slide. 
“What?” 
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s anaphase.” 
“Mind if I check… Anaphase.” 
“Like I said,” he joked. “If you don’t like the rain then why did you move to the wettest place in the continental United States?” 
“Baseball.” 
“Baseball? It’s also anaphase. Do you want to check it?” 
“No, I believe you.” 
Edward listened intently as you retold your story to yet another person about why you were in Forks, asking questions when necessary. You guys continued to do your work and talk. He carried the golden onion prize as he escorted you to your locker. 
“Why didn’t you move with your mother and Phil?” 
“Moving once means moving again. Phil could get a second contract next year and we’d be in California or Maine or some stupid place like Delaware.” 
“But now you’re unhappy staying here?” 
“It’s complicated.” 
Edward paused. “I’m sorry, I’m asking too much. I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re very difficult for me to read.” 
“Well, asking questions like a normal human bei— hey, did you get contacts?” 
“No.” 
“I swear your eyes were black last time I saw you, now it’s like a golden brown color.” 
“Uh, no. It’s the fluorescents.” 
He walked away before you could say anything else. You didn’t see Edward until school ended and you went to your truck. He and his siblings seemed to be looking directly at you but you thought you were just being paranoid. You turned back around to dig through your bag for your keys. The screeching of tires caught your attention but it was too late. Tyler’s van was barrelling towards you and your feet couldn’t seem to move. 
Now was not the time to find out that your flight or fight response was the dreaded third option of freeze. You could see Edward, four cars away, staring at you in horror. His mouth dropped open. The same as all the other faces that were about to witness your death. Almost everything moved in slow motion.
The hunk of blue metal slid towards you, you felt something grab your waist, you were pulled down to the ground, and a pale hand was on the van that wasn’t hitting you. You stared at the dent in the metal caused by the hand before turning your head to make eye contact with Edward. 
He stared at you for a moment before letting go of you and running away. You were suddenly surrounded by people asking if you were alright. None of them seemed to have noticed Edward wasn’t there. The next thing you knew, you blacked out. 
The lights of the hospital were blinding when you finally came to your senses. The door opened with a vengeance and in strolled your very anxious father. He wouldn’t calm down no matter how much you tried to speak with him, threatening Tyler’s license and everything. It’s not like it was his fault his tires skidded on ice. You mouthed an apology before shutting the small curtain that divided the two hospital beds. 
“Dad, Dad I’m fine. Okay? I was lucky that Edward was there, no injuries.” 
“Edward?” Charlie turns to Dr. Cullen. “Your boy?” 
You cut in before the doctor could even get the chance to say anything. It seemed like he was going to lie. 
“Yeah, he got to me so quickly.” 
Dr. Cullen gave you a tight smile. “It sounds like you were very lucky. You just need to sign some paperwork, Charlie, and then you are good to go.” 
After Charlie signed the paperwork, he went to warm up the car before we had to drive to the school to get my car and then drive home. You turned the corner to one of the vending machines when you stopped after seeing Carlisle, Edward, and Rosalie talking with each other. It didn’t seem like a friendly conversation either. They were definitely arguing. As if they could hear you just breather, the three of them turned towards you. 
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” you asked. 
Edward looked reluctantly as he made his way towards you. “What?” 
“How did you get over to me so quickly?” 
“Y/N, what are you talking about? I was standing right next to you.” 
“No, you weren’t. Don’t try to lie through this either. You were across the parking lot. I know what I saw.” 
“And what was that?” 
“You stopped the van with your hand.” 
Edward’s somewhat amused face turned cold. “Well no one is going to believe you anyway. Can’t you just thank me and we just drop it?” 
“Thank you.” 
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” 
“Not at all,” I tell him, determined. 
“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.” 
You went home that night with more questions than answers and the oddly sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you. You went to the bathroom and took your shower while thinking about how Edward stopped the van. So far, you had no concrete answers. You went to bed without any answers as well. Although you did wake up in the middle of night after having a strange dream about Edward. 
You tried to not think about that as you went to school the next day. The buses were already up front when you parked, ready for the field trip that you were positive wasn’t going to be very fun. Edward and his siblings, Alice and Jasper, walked past you. Mike popped up in front of you. 
“Hey, you’re alive, Arizona!” 
“You need more than a van to take me down.” 
The two of you laugh as you hi-fived. 
“So I was wondering, are you going to prom?” 
“Um, I don’t know yet. Charlie said I get two free no questions asked days if I go but me and dancing… it’s not pretty.” 
“Well, do you know if Jess is going?” 
“Mike!” you gasped. “Are you trying to ask Jessica out?” 
“Lower your voice, please. Okay, I may have had a small crush on her since we were seven and I am choosing to ask out my very good friend to prom.” 
“She’s going. I’m going dress shopping with her and Ang next weekend.” 
“Okay. Okay, cool.” Mike walked off before coming right back. “Do you think she likes me?” 
“Most definitely.” 
“Sweet. Thanks, Y/N/N. You’re the best.” 
He got on one of the buses while you got on the other. Tyler sat next to you, plugging your headphones into the jack on his phone. You nodded along to Blue October’s “Hate Me” as it played. The two of you didn’t talk at all but stared out the window like you were in a music video and listened to music until you reached your destination. 
The greenhouse was… interesting. That was the nicest way you could put it. Maybe it would have been nicer if you all weren’t cramped in the small walkway between the plants. Mr. Molina and Mr. Donoghue were trying their hardest to get people to water the plants or give them soil. 
“Now, I’m gonna make a steaming cup of compost tea.” 
He handed it to Eric. You laughed as you heard a very panicked yell. 
“No! Don’t drink it! It’s for the plants.” 
“What’s a no questions asked day?” a deep voice behind you asked. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning around, you saw the classic peacoat and never out of place hair of Edward Cullen. When had he even come up behind you? 
“You know you’re not helping your case. How’d you even hear that?” 
“You didn’t answer my question.” 
“Dude, you never answer any of mine. You don’t even say hi.”
“Hi.” 
“Please try to act less like a human. Are you gonna tell me anything? Preferably about the other day.”  
“Yeah. I had an adrenaline rush,” he said clinically. “It’s very common. You can Google it.” 
You paused and looked at him. “You’re a terrible liar. And a no question day is when I tell Charlie I need to do something or go somewhere and he asks no questions. It’s a mutual trust betwe—” 
You tripped but felt air and two cold hands grab you instead of feeling your face kiss pavement. 
“Careful,” Edward said as he set you upright again. 
“Thanks. So are you going to answer any of my other questions?” 
“Um. Ma—” 
“Y/N/N!” Jess stepped in between you two. “Guess who just asked me to prom?” 
Edward took the opportunity to slip away. 
“Who?” you feigned ignorance. 
“Mike! I’ve been hoping since forever but like he actually asked me.” 
You and Jess talked the entire way out of the greenhouse and onto the buses, forgetting about Edward and wanting to ask him more questions until it was too late. You weren’t going to think about him for the rest of the day. You had a father-daughter/mother-son date with Charlie, Jacob’s mom, and Jacob. Which meant going to a restaurant because both Charlie and Sarah worked long hours and weren’t going to cook. And Billy was doing his physical therapy for walking so there was no way anyone would force him to cook. 
You went to pick up Jacob at his school while his mom picked up Charlie from the station. He was still inside when you reached the school. It felt stupid signing the visitors clipboard when the school day was already over but you did it anyway just in case. When you made it to a hangout area for students you spotted Jake with his friends. 
You’d like to say they were your friends too but you never got very close with them over the summer. Embry usually went somewhere with his mom, Quil’s grandfather kept inside most of the time, and Seth had sports.
And their acquaintances you knew even less. Paul and Jared were always one grade level above you all and hung out with themselves. Sam didn’t seem to like any of you despite being only a couple years older than you and having even a smaller age gap with Paul. And Leah didn’t come around because either her loser younger brother was there or Sam was there which sucked because you wanted another girl around. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Embry said as you turned the corner. 
“Hi, guys. Jake, you ready?”  
“Yeah. See you guys later.” 
He nodded at his friends before getting up to stand next to you. Your fingers twitched as he intertwined them with his own. He rolled his eyes at the wolf whistles from his friends, laughing when you threw up a middle finger while the two of you walked away. 
“So where are we going?” you asked. 
“Who picked last summer?” 
“Charlie.” 
“Oh, nice, so it’s my turn.” Jacob looked something up on his phone. “Smuggler’s Bar and Grill, sound good? It’s in Port Angeles though.” 
You shrugged. “Eh, I’ve already finished all my homework and Charlie doesn’t go back to work until the graveyard shift. Go ahead and text them our choice.�� 
Your truck pulled out of the school parking lot and headed towards the highway. Jacob fiddled with the radio for at least one decent station while you drove the hour it took just to get to Port Angeles. Honestly, you didn’t mind the time. The drive, surrounded by trees, was comforting. Especially with your best friend. 
If you and Jake weren’t singing to songs, you were gossiping about school. There was no need to catch up on anything else. Jake was one of the few people you texted nearly everyday despite being so far away most of the year — including the fact that he had a secret girlfriend for three years. Whenever he wanted to get her a present, he would text you what it was and would pretend he was sending it to you so Billy and Sarah wouldn’t get suspicious. It worked. They didn’t find out even after the two broke up. 
You guys pulled into the restaurant and waited for your parents to show up. Like you predicted, Sarah already analyzed the entire menu and knew what she wanted to order. Jake held up his phone. 
“They said they’re twenty minutes away and the food takes that long to prepare so order for them.” 
“I’m surprised she got Charlie to pick something ahead of time.” 
The two of you went in and got a table like they said. The host smiled a bit too sweetly as they called over a waiter. You and Jacob looked at each other and came to the same conclusion at the same time, silently gagging. There was no way they thought that you guys were on a date. Absolutely not. Was it because you were holding hands? The two of you pulled apart but the damage was already done. 
The waiter sat you down at what you could tell was the restaurant’s nicest booth by the best window that would let you look out onto the water. He handed you the menus and left to give you alone time to think. 
“Just gross, no offense,” you said. 
Jacob shrugged. “None taken. I would never date you, you’re, like, my friend.” 
“Same. Too weird… Do you think they’ll give us free dessert if we are though?” 
“Do you want to play it up?” 
“Absolutely.” 
Jacob gave you a smile you had never seen before but assumed he must have given to his girlfriend. He laid his hand across the table for you to grab. You took it with no problem — Jake’s hands were always warm and still a bit soft since he wore gloves when he worked on cars and bikes. His thumb stroked the back of your hand and he set the menu down to look at you. Almost like magic, or like they’ve been secretly watching, the wait staff came over. 
“Are you two ready to order?” he asked as he set down two glasses of water. 
“Ladies first,” Jake let go of your hand, ready to scoop up your menu when you finished speaking. 
“Um, does the shrimp scampi have a smell?” you asked in fake concern, hoping the waiter would catch on to teen angst of potential bad breath before a first kiss. 
“Oh, no, I got you, honey.” He had a noticeable southern accent. “What do you want to drink?” 
“Iced Tea, please. Oh, and a Caesar salad with ranch dressing.” 
“Got it. And for the young sir?”
“I’ll take the Not Your Mother’s Mac and Cheese along with a lemonade. Oh, and our parents are chaperoning but they’re a little late. Can we get them one clam chowder and one Hawaiian chicken sandwich both with Ruby tonics? What is a ruby tonic?” 
“Oh, I’m so glad you kids are too young to know what it is. Your food will be ready in a minute.” 
He took the menus and walked away. You could hear him gossip to the rest of the staff about chaperones. Jacob grabbed your hand again, giving it a peck. 
“You know he’s totally gonna bring you breath mints. Did you really ask if the shrimp would smell?” 
“Hey, I had to sell it. What brand do you think it’ll be?” 
Jake kissed your hand again. “Lifesavers. They scream not obvious for teenagers asking.” 
“You say this from experience?” 
“Ehh with Elle a couple of times.” 
“Really? I can’t believe you had your first kiss and girlfriend and I couldn’t even get a date for homecoming. You’re still a virgin right?” 
“Yes. I am still a loser virgin.” 
“Hey, I’m a virgin.” 
“Well then in that case virginity rocks.” 
You and Jacob cheered and clinked glasses before laughing when you were unable to hold it anymore. He moved over to your side since the two of you would have to be sitting together anyway once Charlie and Sarah showed up. He took the opportunity to sling his arm around you while you snuggled up to him. The two of you could clearly hear awes. 
“If we actually get free dessert,” Jacob whispered. “We need to do this more often.”  
Your parents came in exactly when the food came out. They looked at the two of you weirdly as you awkwardly broke apart. You shook your head before Charlie could say anything. They went with it like you had asked.  Your parents could do absolutely nothing but shake their heads and smile as the waiter brought out free cinnamon rolls in to-go boxes for not just you and Jacob but for the “chaperones” as well. 
You guys left a generous tip, cleaned up the table, and left the restaurant. You and Jacob clinked the to-go boxes together. 
“Here’s to fake boyfriends.” 
“Here’s to fake girlfriends.”
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