#no one is going to read this whole thing but

[gothicfied]

can you write a squid game fic or head cannons of other characters finding out the reader is struggling with self harm? If so, thank you and I understand it is a sensitive topics and may be uncomfortable to write.

Squid Game season 2 characters x reader who struggles with sh

Featuring: Thanos / Player 230, Se-mi / Player 380, Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120, Nam-gyu / Player 124, Kang Dae-ho / Player 388, Park Min-su / Player 125, Kim Jun-hee / Player 222

(Trigger) Warnings: Mention/Talk about sh, depression, and things of this nature, this is comfort/angst, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Summary: Basically what the ask says

A/N: hey! I hope this is what you imagined, sorry if some of these are ooc😞🙏

Thanos / Player 230

જ⁀➴ Before he really knew, he'd constantly make your life a living hell, basically making fun of your shyness. He'd make certain comments to which he knew you wouldn't react to or would try to persuade you to vote in favor of the game containing.

જ⁀➴ You'd constantly tell him off and to leave you alone. It didn't really help, though. Thanos would just sit down next to you and talk your ear off about what he wanted to do with that prize money.

જ⁀➴ When you stood up to leave, rollung your eyes at him, he grabbed you by your wrist.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Thanos blurted out, giving you an offended glare. "You know, it's really rude to just leave a conversation like that." When you tried to get out of his grip, your sleeves rode up your arm, revealing scars you weren't proud of or wanted him to see. When you realized it, he did too, immediately letting go of you.

જ⁀➴ Since Thanos knew what it meant to struggle with mental health he did actually leave you alone for now. But, after the next game, he approached you again and sat down next to you. "I'm sorry about yesterday." he said, patting you on the back.

જ⁀➴ He related to you in a way, but didn't want to ask you about what went on in your private life. Now you just appreciated that he seemingly didn't overstep any boundaries anymore and even checked up from you every now and then.

Se-mi / Player 380

જ⁀➴ You and her had been a duo ever since she came up to you and complimented your looks. Even if you denied it or not, she'd repeat it multiple times, winning you over with her charm quickly.

જ⁀➴ You two had the same mindset on a lot of things, originally voting 'O', thinking you were able to survive one more lousy game. That game was a death scare. Nothing about it was funny anymore. You appreciated your life too much these days to die like this.

જ⁀➴ When the second favor didn't go your way, both Se-mi and you now voting 'X', you felt helpless. One night, the two of you were sitting on her bed, just talking about your past and how you got to this point in the first place. While Se-mi was more secluded, only telling you that 'there are so much worse things she had to face when she got out' you trusted her enough to tell her about a sensitive time in your life.

"I'm not really secretive about this anymore," you pushed your sleeves up, revealing faded scars along your forearm, "but yeah. It was all pretty fucked up. The whole debt thing didn't make it any better." Se-mi looked at you with raised eyebrows, her fingers tracing the lines on your wrists. "I knew you were strong. Don't worry, we'll get out of here."

જ⁀➴ She put in double the work to protect you — She just wanted you to start a better life with that money and be happy, free from debt and all of it.

Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju noticed from the start that you were more secluded, more prone to cry, panicked easily. It was clear to her that you were struggling with this situation, perhaps even more than that. She made it her task to help you as much as she could, comfort you and keep you close to her and her group.

જ⁀➴ You'd often rant to her and tell her what bothered you after she reassured her she'd take care of anything possible. Hyun-ju was the anker you needed in this shithole and you just appreciated her very much. Everything she did seemed to be out of genuine interest and not just to gain your trust and abuse it.

જ⁀➴ Accidentally, Hyun-ju did catch a glimpse of the scars you were so desperate to hide. She didn't mention it, feeling like it wasn't her place to comment on it. Her heart did break for you, though.

જ⁀➴ From then on, she made sure to speak softer to you and distract you from all the horror around you.

Hyun-ju hugged you tightly against her chest, her arms engulfing your figure. "Tonight things could get a bit scary," she mumbled into your hair while she rested her face against your head, "I just want you to know now rather than find out later. I'll keep you safe, you know that." You just nodded, reciprocating the hug after a few moments.

Nam-gyu / Player 124

જ⁀➴ When he found out, as you didn't make the effort to hide them or anything, he did refrain from provoking you in any way. Nam-gyu related, as he considered his drug use not to be the best thing he could do to his body.

જ⁀➴ Both of you hung around in the same group, since Thanos really wanted you on his team, constantly giving you compliments and flirting with you. It annoyed him to a degree, scoffing everytime Thanos tried to talk to him about how pretty you were, how much he wanted you, give you the world. In Nam-gyu's opinion, he didn't get you.. didn't get what you went through, at all.

જ⁀➴ One evening before lights out, the two of you were teasing each other about something and laughed together — something that rarely occured amongst the other players.

"Want me to show you something?" Nam-gyu asked you, leaning a bit closer. Chuckling, you replied with a 'mhm' and watched him pull up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing skin tracks along the inside of his elbow. You raised an eyebrow: "Oh?" You took his arm to get a closer look, tracing his skin with your fingertips. "Well, we all have our stories, huh?" The man nodded at your wrists, making you look at them too, like you didn't already know what he meant.

જ⁀➴ The both of you grew close to each other, much to his amuse. He was a junkie, you were depressed.. it's like a disaster in the making. But, you didn't care. He was sweet and weirdly kind to you — Not in the way Thanos was. You made sure to hug Nam-gyu a few times more after that, in case it could be the last timd you'd get to do that.

Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

જ⁀➴ You were glad to be on Gi-hun's team from the start, since Dae-ho and you got along really well. As a former Marine, which he was super proud of obviously, he declared he'd protect you immediately after you met, making you laugh.

જ⁀➴ He was kind, strong and funny, but maybe a bit oblivious at times.

During the six-legged pentathlon, you two sat next to each other, cheering the current active team on. Yelling and screaming filled the area as they crossed the finish lind just in time, making everyone erupt in cheers. Dae-ho immediately hugged you with joy, excited to see the five live another day, at least. After pulling back witha laugh, you gave him a small high five with your sleeve rolled back. When noticing scars along your wrist and forearm, the former marine gasped pretty loudly. "What?" you asked with genuine concerning, fearing something was wrong with you. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Dae-ho pulled your sleeve back over your arm. "Dude," he looked at you with wide eyes "it's fine." You needed to hold back a laugh.

જ⁀➴ Dae-ho felt so bad to havs accidentally seen something you've been struggling with, that he couldn't help but apologize profusely. You repeated to him that it wasn't a big deal for you and that you were working on this problem, but he didn't stop nonetheless.

જ⁀➴ You thought it was cute how much he seemed to care for you and how often he came up to you just to tell you that he appreciated you. And Dae-ho did, he didn't just say that to make you feel better.

Park Min-su / Player 125

જ⁀➴ Min-su is just shy over all. When he noticed it, he wouldn't say a thing. He'd be dead silent, maybe even a bit scared to talk to you. He was just scared he'd make it awkward, somehow hinting that he knew about your scars. Min-su was just someone who overthought a lot and even you noticed it.

જ⁀➴ After a bit, it annoyed you — The sudden lack of his presence next to you, the fact that he wouldn't properly talk to you anymore, it was all just weird and confusing. So, you decided to ask him directly.

"Did I do something wrong?" your voice wasn't stern, but Min-su could tell that you were kind of upset. "Ah, no-" he quickly replied back, shaking his head, "it's really not you!" He looked at you with his typical innocent face, making it hard for you to keep pressing him about this matter. "Then what is it, seriously?"

જ⁀➴ He explained what he saw and said that he just felt so sorry. Well, at least he didn't speak to you because he didn't want to hurt or upset you, which was really thoughtful.

જ⁀➴ You'd expect that he would now be the one to comfort you or something, but no it was the complete opposite. Min-su seemed to worried about you and kept asking you how you were feeling or if anything bothered you. You had to keep reassuring him that those times were in the past and that he didn't have to be so worried.

જ⁀➴ It was really cute though, so you let it slide.

Kim Jun-hee / Player 222 (implied fem!reader)

જ⁀➴ Since Jun-hee and you were pretty close in age, you two had found each other right away. You kept telling her that she needed more protection, or at least an ally like you, on her side sincs she was pregnant. You weren't really serious about that, just chuckling when bringing it up, but ut definitely made Jun-hee trust you a lot more. It was a critical situation she was in and she was glad to have you by her side.

જ⁀➴ You even banged on the door in the middle of the night to make the guards take her to the bathroom when she was to shy to do it herself.

As ths pink guard brought you to the womens bathroom, Jun-hee held onto you, clearly being in pain. A few minutes later, you were washing your hands and tried to fix yourself up, looking a bit disgusted in the mirror. "What is it?" Jun-hee emerged from one of the stalls, chuckling. "Man, I look like a damn zombie. Look what this place has done to us." Instead of getting a reply, you noticed that she was staring at your arms, at your scars. You had taken your jacket off for convenience and kind of forgot about them. "Oh, I'm sor-" Jun-hee interrupted you, "No! No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stared like that!"

જ⁀➴ Obviously everyone had their struggles, but now her own kind of seemed insignificant next to yours. You were doing so much for her and she didn't even know that you were struggling. She should've thought of that.

જ⁀➴ When voicing that thought to you, you felt bad that you made her feel like that. With a hug, it was all sorted out. Jun-hee cared deeply for you and she could tell that you cared for her like that, too. It was nice to know that someone had your back in a place like this.

[rhoselacksthorns]

Right I've seen this stupid damn post to much to not do a rant at it that nobody but my like three followers will even see, all of whom will promptly ignore it, so no harm done

This is a terrible and viciously ignorant way to describe the Fermi paradox and it's solutions. Lets go back from the end to the top.

Firstly, that's a shit metaphor, because we can see very very far, in every direction. It's not like we're complaining nobody's called us, it's that we can't see any signs of life elsewhere in the universe. In such a metaphor it'd be the middle of the day and the guy had 20-20 vision and some binoculars. and it's not like we're just looking for things just like us. We're looking for anything alive, so in the metaphor let's change people for animals in general. So here's the new metaphor, a guy standing in an empty waste of barren soil to the horizon, tries looking around for any other creatures and sees nothing. no ants or beatles in the soil at his feet, no giraffes or elephants in the distance (size here as a metaphor for how more advanced life would be easier to spot the signs of), not even through his binoculars. but the man is still there, so he assumes that if he's here, something else probably is, I mean look at all this space, so... where are they? And then he starts going through all eventualities, like maybe he is just the only one (rare life) or this is a very special and rare spot he's stood in that made him appear here (rare earth theory), maybe there were more things alive before he got here, but he can't see any skeletons... so whatever it was it couldn't have been that big, maybe things don't get much bigger than a person here? I wonder why? (great filters)... etc etc

like the way you originally wrote it is the same as saying scientists realised that everything must be made from some smaller thing and then without bothering with so much as a magnifying glass just made up that everything is made of magic little balls floating around eachother!

And on top of that you purposely cherry picked examples of solutions (multiple from fictional works) that you could make sound silly, like let's actually look at arguably the most credible of the solutions you used properly, the dark forest theory. it's based in the idea that if other life is as warlike and violent as us, then first contacts would be very difficult to navigate, and everyone involved would be scared. because we already know it's theoretically possible to create incredibly effective interstellar weaponry, and therefore everyone is scared that somebody else might have it, and therefore everyone sees everyone as a potential threat who could wipe them out, so everyone is scared that if someone else sees them, they'll kill them, so they decide the only way to survive is that if they see somebody, they need to shoot first and kill the other to save themselves. And so it reinforces itself, because any civilisations hiding because of this won't come out of hiding, and any who aren't hiding get killed pretty quickly. That's the dark forest solution, not just everyone magically hates everyone.

I doubt someone goes around making bad faith science takes so I'm guessing op is just brutally ignorant of the whole topic in favour of trying to be "haha funny look at the silly science nerds and their funny ideas"

It just pisses me off, sorry to the few people who'll bother reading this btw

I low-key love the fact that sci-fi has so conditioned us to expect to be hanging out with a bunch of cool space aliens, that legitimate, actual scientists keep proposing the most bizarre, three-blunts-into-the-rotation "theories" to explain the fact we're not.

Some of my favourites include:

Zoo Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they're not talking to us because of the Prime Directive from Star Trek? (Or because they're doing experiments on us???)

Dark Forest Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they all hate us and each other so they're all just waiting with a shotgun pointed at the door, ready to open fire on anything that moves?

Planetarium Theory: What if there's at least one alien with mastery over light and matter that's just making it seem to us that the universe is empty to us as, like, a joke?

Berserker Theory: What if there were loads of aliens, but one of them made infinite killer robots that murdered everyone and are coming for us next?!!

Like, the universe is at least 13,700,000,000 years old and 46,000,000,000 light years big. We have had the ability to transmit and receive signals for, what, 100 years, and our signals have so far travelled 200 light years?

The fact is biological life almost certainly has, does, or will develop elsewhere in the universe, and it's not impossible that a tiny amount of it has, does, or will develop in a way that we would understand as "intelligent". But, like, we're realistically never going to know because of the scale of the things involved.

So I'm proposing my own hypothesis. I call it the "Fool in a Field" hypothesis. It goes like this:

Humanity is a guy standing in the middle of a field at midnight. It's pitch black, he can't move, and he's been standing there for ages. He's just had the thought to swing his arms. He swings one of his arms, once, and does not hit another person. "Oh no!" He says. "Robots have killed them all!"

[fgumi]

i need more loser!heeseung after reading that oh my gosh . yes yes yes yes. #needhim #needthat

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LO$ER = LO♡ER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, headcanon, WC; 2.7k, WARNING(S); mildly suggestive (what’s heeseung supposed to do when you’re so hot?), A/N; your wish is my command. i absolutely love loser!heeseung. it's a need. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso @hollyoongs @hoonieyun }

loser!heeseung was excited. so excited. why you may ask? because you agreed to go to anime con with him. you even suggested that the two of you cosplay. you asked to go as lucy and david from cyberpunk edgerunners, something that fit the aesthetic you two had built. so, heeseung checked himself out in the mirror, fumbling with the yellow jacket you sewed for him and fixing the pieces of his hair that fell out.

“baby, i think we’re gonna be late if we don’t head out n—”

you came out in your outfit as you adjusted the belt resting on your hip. heeseung didn’t have any words. you looked… gosh, how could he describe you without being weird? you were beautiful, even on the days you didn’t feel it. but… right now? heeseung felt ashamed to say that he understood all those nasty guys thirsting over cosplayers. holy crap, he hit the lotto. you were a vision.

“hee? do i look weird? i wasn’t sure about the wig either,” you pouted as you touched the long white strand.

“no!” heeseung shouted, then cleared his throat. “you look really good.”

you smiled and walked up to him, checking out the two of you in the mirror. “you also look very handsome. we make a good lucy and david, huh?”

your eyes glanced at heeseung through the mirror and noticed he was still looking at you with his mouth agape. you turned to him and waved your hand in front of his face. “hee?”

as he kept staring at you, you shifted. you couldn’t help but blush under his gaze. heeseung gulped. how was he going to keep all those creepy guys away from you? he can’t even fight! he’d have to cover you up! but then he wouldn’t get to look at you in this… this outfit.

you softly planted a kiss on his cheek and that brought him out of his daze. his ears were bright red when he stepped away from you.

“i— uh. um. we— you—” he stuttered, unable to form a coherent thought.

a giggle escaped you at his lack of words. you did a little spin for him. man, heeseung couldn’t help his eyes drifting down at the cutouts on your hips and how short your—no! stop objectifying her. bad heeseung. that is your lovely girlfriend, who you love very much and who, for some odd reasons, loves you too.

“hee,” you interrupted, your lashes lowering—wow, you looked ready to eat him. “i thought we were gonna be late?”

you crept up to him, your hand ghosting over his arm. you pressed into him. “i mean, we don’t have to go. i just thought you wanted—”

you didn’t end up going, by the way. your couple’s cosplay never saw the light of day. instead, they were scattered on your bedroom floor.

loser!heeseung didn’t know how to feel when you asked to play d&d with him. while he said yes (because he’d never say no to you), he was admittedly nervous. what if you thought he was a big nerd and wanted to leave him? what if you hated how he dm’d (dungeon master)? well, it was too late now. you guys were on your way to jeongin’s apartment.

contray to heeseung’s overthinking, you were excited. you finally got to experience one of heeseung’s favorite pastimes. you didn’t really understand the whole thing, but you were open to it! you did some late-night research and built your own little character. she was an eladrin sage druid at level 6. heeseung made sure to let you know that you’d be thrown right into the middle of this campaign and that all the other characters were at level 6.

when you guys arrived at the door, jeongin threw it open and you were taken aback. he was in full costume, armor and all. apparently, jeongin was also taken aback. he didn’t think you were actually coming.

“oh! uh, welcome to my apartment, y/n!” he stepped aside to let you and heeseung in. inside, you saw unfamiliar faces who were also in costume. jeongin pulled heeseung aside and whispered. “i didn’t think you were serious when you said that y/n was coming! and where’s your costume?”

heeseung gave him an apologetic look. “dude, i’m sorry. you know i can’t say no to her. and i didn’t want to overwhelm her before we even left the apartment.”

jeongin sighed. “you better still dm the same with the voices and everything. and no preferential treatment!”

heeseung nodded and went to sit by you. you leaned into him and whispered. “i feel incredibly underdressed. did you know they were going to dress up?”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “we usually do for every session.”

you pouted and looked him up and down. “i would’ve tried dressing up too if i knew! where’s your costume?”

oh, how heeseung loved you. you didn’t even bat an eye that they were all losers that liked to play dress up on a weekly basis. you were just put out that you weren’t told.

“i didn’t wanna pressure you when it’s your first time,” heeseung said, patting your knee. usually, heeseung would kiss your pout away, but he was in a room full of friends who were very blatantly staring at you.

a throat cleared, drawing heeseung’s attention towards jeongin. in a (poor) scottish accent, jeongin said. “dungeon master, the fellowship awaits ye!”

heeseung nodded and pulled out his notes for the campaign. when you tried to peek, he immediately leaned away, keeping the notebook shut. “the people in the campaign can’t see this,” he said.

understanding, you stopped trying to look. you just pulled out your phone with your character sheet on it. jeongin paused in his seat. “oh, y/n, did you need to build your character first? we can wait for you,” jeongin said in his normal voice.

you shook your head and waved your phone. “i built one in d&d beyond! i came prepared, sort of?”

now, jeongin didn’t have much opinion on you other than that you were heeseung’s really hot girlfriend. but, after seeing how you tried to prepare, he could say that he liked you.

once everyone settled down, heeseung resumed the campaign. it amazed you how he was able to switch between all those voices, acting out the npcs of the quest. the way you were staring at him intently made heeseung unusually nervous.

whenever his eyes shifted over to you, his dialogue faltered for a sec before he continued. he interacted with the others of the campaign before coming to a point in the story where you could hop in. you put on a proper english accent, trying to sound as much like arwen from lord of the rings (you watched it countless times with heeseung). if no one else was in the room right now, heeseung would’ve died from your cuteness. a part of him was geeking out right now. his girlfriend, the love of his life, was playing d&d with him. what did he do in his past life to deserve this?

then came the fights. as he narrated, his friends rolled on their turns, fighting against the monsters that heeseung created. when it came to your turn, you looked a bit out of your depth. you were scrolling through moves in the d&d index to see which ones you could do. everyone was thankfully patient with you.

“i use a 3rd level spell slot and call upon lightning to strike the monster closest to jeongin?” you commanded unsurely.

heeseung leaned over, careful to not expose any notes. “baby, you’re gonna hit jeongin with that spell and you gotta reference his character, not him. that spell has a damage radius of 5 feet. the monster is only 3 feet away from him.”

you deflated as you scrolled through your list of spells. you turned your phone to heeseung, showing him the spell you wanted to use instead. “can i use flame arrows instead?”

heeseung could just die from how cute you were. he shook his head and scrolled through your list and clicked on wind wall. “you can use this one and surround the monster. it’ll take bludgeoning damage once the wall forms, regardless of his strength saving throw.”

you nodded and got back into character. you acted as if you were really putting a wind wall up and commanded more confidently. “i erect a wind wall around the monster and separate him from thralladin.”

heeseung got back to dm’ing and rolled his dice, falling short for a saving throw. he took note of the damage and continued everyone else’s turn. the night was fun! heeseung couldn’t believe how quickly you picked it up or how into it you were. at the end of the night, when everyone was leaving, jeongin pulled him aside again. “dude, y/n’s actually cool.”

pride swelled in heeseung’s chest. you managed to get the okay from his friend, not that it really affected how he felt for you. you two said your goodbyes to jeongin and walked home. you were filled with excitement for the next session. “what kind of clothes should i get for illanaria? i’m thinking white robes with some sheer drapes to add a bit of flair. i really need to study up on my spells so i don’t keep wasting time scrolling through the index. should i also get a notebook?”

just when heeseung didn’t think he could fall for you any harder, you proved him wrong.

loser!heeseung has met your parents, but in passing. however, today was a dinner meant to force—he means give a chance (don’t tell y/n he said that)—him to talk to your parents in length.

“don’t be nervous! my mom’s loved you since high school!”

ya, it’s not your mom he’s worried about. your dad on the other hand? what was he even going to talk about with him? football? heeseung could barely understand the sport. home improvement? he always needed your help to build ikea furniture. there wasn’t much he could do to gain some points with your dad. he just prayed that he wouldn’t hate him too much.

after 4 years (you recently celebrated your anniversary!) of being together, heeseung was finally going to talk to your dad. no more small talk while he waits for you to come down. he was actually going to have to make conversation with your father. if his phone didn’t tell him how cold it was, he’d think it was summer with how he was sweating.

the door swung open to reveal your mom, who looked as jovial and vibrant as ever. “kids! come in, come in. it’s freezing out there. that stupid global warming is really messing with the temperature.”

heeseung greeted her warmly, awkwardly accepting her bear hug while balancing the mac n’ cheese in his right hand. she pulled away and gasped. “you brought your famous mac n’ cheese! y/n’s been raving about this ever since she had it. i can’t wait to try it!”

when she rushed off to set it on the dinner table, your dad appeared with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. he peered up at heeseung, since heeseung was slightly taller, and stared at him for a moment.

“so… you brought mac n’ cheese,” your dad said plainly.

heeseung laughed nervously. “i hope that’s okay?”

when your dad didn’t say anything for a second, you slapped his chest. “dad, stop intimidating him!”

your dad cracked a smile before ruffling your hair. “alright, sweetheart.” he clapped heeseung on the back and grinned. “i love mac n’ cheese! dinner’s almost ready, so make yourself feel at home!”

wow, he was a lot less intimidating than heeseung remembered. he thought back to all those moments in high school and wondered if your dad was just pretending to be stoic. your dad guided him to the dinner table before entering the kitchen again. as he moved around, your mom leaned forward. “so, heeseung, when are you going to ask my daughter to marry you?”

you choked on your water, water spraying out of the side of your mouth. heeseung quickly offered you a napkin and patted you on the back. you wiped your mouth and glared at your mom. “mom, that is not one of the preapproved questions. actually, i explicitly said you and dad can’t bring up anything about marriage.”

your mom tsked and pouted. “honey, you’ve been dating for so long. it’s a natural question.”

before you could protest, your dad brought over the rack of lamb, fresh from the oven. he placed it in the center and took off his gloves, kissing the top of your head afterwards. “your mother is just excited to have a son-in-law that can cook. you talk about him all the time. sue her for being curious.”

you talked about him with your parents? you glared up at your dad. “we haven’t even talked about that yet. i wonder why? oh ya, because we’re still in college!”

your dad raised his arms in surrender. “hey, i asked your mom to marry me when we were 16.”

“to which i said no,” your mom playfully jabbed. “we were far too young.”

“we’re also too young,” you grumbled, leaning into heeseung’s side. he wrapped his arms around your shoulder. he hoped your parents didn’t look at him too closely. his blush was probably covering his whole face. he didn’t realize your parents were also high school sweethearts.

“you also rejected dad until you were in college, anyway,” you added, clasping your hand with heeseung’s. ah, so not high school sweethearts.

when your dad settled beside your mom, she patted him on the chest. “he wasn’t always the hunk you see now.”

“okay, that was gross. can we eat now?” you groaned. your dad started making a plate and handed it to your mom. heeseung should also probably do this for you. he pulled away from you and started making your plate, avoiding the deviled eggs and piling on the mac n’ cheese. when he placed it down in front of you, your dad raised his eyebrow. “you still avoiding deviled eggs?”

you brought your plate closer to you, waiting to eat until heeseung had his plate. you stuck your tongue out at your dad. “i don’t when hee makes them.”

your dad looked at heeseung with a surprised look. “you made her eat deviled eggs?”

“i just added miso and switched the regular mayo out for the japanese one,” heeseung sheepishly laughed. “she seemed to enjoy them.”

a boisterous laugh escaped your dad as he leaned his head back. when he caught his breath, he gave heeseung an approving nod. “good on you, man.”

the rest of the dinner went smoothly, and heeseung felt himself relaxing. your dad wasn’t nearly as intimidating as he thought. they easily bonded over cooking and how the women in their life shouldn’t have to lift their pretty little fingers if they didn’t want to. heeseung felt relieved. your dad seemed to like him, especially after you telling him how much heeseung takes care of you.

by the end of it, your dad was inviting him back over—without you. “you should come over and we can workshop a course menu for the girls.”

heeseung grinned, promising to come back soon. you said your goodbyes and drove home. on the drive, you kissed your intertwined hands. “thanks for doing that.”

heeseung shook his head. “it’s no problem. i’m glad i got to talk to your parents.”

“nothing to worry about, right? they really like you,” you teased. “they even want you to marry me so they can trap you forever.”

heeseung hummed. he’d gladly be “trapped” by your parents if it meant calling you his wife. should he go ring shopping? he didn’t have money for that right now. maybe once he gets his return offer. he could at least scroll on through websites.

“good thing i already do wanna marry you.”

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! you can now leave requests!

[obligateweirdo]

I think we’re nearing the end of a Golden Era. After the finale of Good Omens is released, we’re going to be on a different footing. It will wrapped, it will be complete. We will have a whole story.

Thus far we’ve been able to hope, fear, speculate and dream—those opportunities will change dramatically after the finale is released.

I’m feeling all kinds of ways about that—it’s been a heck of a ride. “Roller coaster” doesn’t do it justice. Despite the cracks and schisms that have appeared, the fandom remains a fairly friendly and wholesome place. I’m not a huge capital-F Fan; I’m not always obsessed with a story or a show (though I’m usually obsessed with something, be it crochet or raku). I’m not generally up on production schedules and don’t usually read about actors.

However, I’ve been in a few fandoms over the centuries, and I’ve seen them get much more toxic than this one is even now. I’m so grateful. Y’all are a fabulous crowd of angels and demons.

My deal is that I was pretty sure I was going to be disappointed with S3 from the beginning. The characters took root in my mind and, well, they’re mine now, the same way they’re yours, and, little by little, my head-canons have become real to me. This is normal for me—I figured I’d have to watch the whole thing a few times and see if my internal convictions would conform to whatever solution was offered to me. I don’t think I’ve ever gone from this point of the evolution of a story to the end without disappointment. That part hasn’t changed.

Because characters like Aziraphale and Crowley turn real, rather like the Velveteen Rabbit. They enter the company of mythological beings, along with King Arthur and Sherlock Holmes and Finn McCool, and there they will stay, an amalgam of thousands upon thousands of images of them in thousands upon thousands of minds. I love this for them.

But the finale will bring a sea-change, and we’ll be in a new era where all that goes forward is the mythology—and that will be a new jumping-off-point, but also the last foreseeable jumping off point we will have as a group. (A group of the thousands of us.)

I just want to say that I’m very glad to have been here in the Bentley for the ride through hellfire and tartan hills, and I’ll be here for at least a while longer, enjoying the view of the new countryside.

Heigh-ho, said Anthony Crowley.

[ka1rin]

Blue Lock Romantic Tropes

isagi, kaiser, sae, rin, reo, nagi x reader (separate)

word count: 1.1k , genre: romance / fluff

note: this story is about what romantic trope would suit these Blue Lock characters. I hope you guys love this!

Isagi Yoichi — Childhood Friends

Yoichi Isagi had always been head over heels for her—though he didn’t realize it until it was almost too late. She’d been his best friend for as long as he could remember. She was the one who stayed after practice to kick a ball around when no one else would, the one who always seemed to know exactly what to say after a tough game.

But lately, everything felt different. He couldn’t stop noticing the way her hair caught the sunlight or the way her laughter softened the edges of a bad day. He wasn’t sure when it started, but he knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t just his best friend anymore.

They walked home together like always, her voice filling the air with stories about her day. Isagi barely heard a word. His mind was somewhere else, lost in thoughts he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

When they reached her street, she stopped and turned to face him. “You’re quieter than usual. What’s up?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. “Do you ever think about the future?”

Her brow furrowed. “Sure. Why?”

“I mean… us,” he said softly, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “Do you ever think about where we’ll end up?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. “What are you trying to say, Yoichi?”

“I think—no, I know—I want you in my future,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not just as my best friend, but as… something more.”

Michael Kaiser — Enemies to Lovers

Michael Kaiser had never believed in losing. In his mind, every match, every argument, every moment in life was a game to be won. That’s why she infuriated him so much. She wasn’t interested in playing by his rules.

From the moment they met, she challenged him—both on and off the field. She had a knack for seeing through his façade, stripping away the charm he used so effortlessly on everyone else. At first, he hated it. Then he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

One evening, after yet another clash on the pitch, he found her sitting alone in the stands. The moonlight caught the curve of her profile, making her look softer than he was used to seeing.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.

“Maybe I’m trying to figure you out,” he replied, sliding onto the bench beside her.

“You won’t,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re not as good at reading people as you think.”

Kaiser smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “And you’re not as immune to me as you pretend to be.”

Her lips twitched, but she said nothing.

For the first time, Kaiser felt like this wasn’t a game he could win—or one he wanted to.

Sae Itoshi — Second Chance

Sae Itoshi had always been good at letting go. Whether it was friends, family, or teammates, he had a way of detaching himself from people, of moving forward without looking back.

But she was different.

She’d been his calm in the storm, the person who grounded him when the pressure of his career threatened to swallow him whole. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on her until the day he walked away, convincing himself it was for the best.

Now, years later, she stood before him at the airport, looking as composed as ever. His pulse quickened at the sight of her, and for the first time in a long while, Sae felt unsure of himself.

“You’ve changed,” she said softly, studying him like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.

“Not enough,” he admitted, his voice steady but quiet.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she glanced away. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I couldn’t stay away,” he confessed. “Because letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Rin Itoshi — Sun and Moon

Rin Itoshi didn’t believe in distractions. He’d built his life around focus and discipline, shutting out anything that might interfere with his pursuit of perfection.

Then she came along.

She was everything he wasn’t—bright, cheerful, and completely unafraid to push her way into his life. At first, Rin had found her presence irritating, but over time, he started to notice the small things: the way she always brought him water during practice, the way her laughter filled the empty spaces of his world.

One afternoon, as they sat in the park, she turned to him with a mischievous grin. “You should smile more, you know. It’s not illegal.”

He frowned, looking away. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it suits you,” she said simply, leaning back against the bench.

Rin’s chest tightened at her words. He didn’t know how to explain that smiling felt foreign to him—except when she was around.

Reo Mikage — Unrequited Love

Reo Mikage had always been drawn to her. She was different from everyone else in his life, uninterested in his money or his status. She treated him like an equal, never hesitating to call him out when he deserved it.

He’d fallen for her quietly, keeping his feelings to himself out of fear that she’d never see him the way he saw her. Still, he stayed by her side, always there when she needed him, hoping one day she might look at him differently.

One evening, as they sat together in a quiet café, she broke the silence. “Reo, why are you always here for me?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you’ve never asked for anything in return,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Why?”

Reo hesitated, his heart pounding. “Because you’re important to me. That’s all.”

Her gaze lingered on him, and for the first time, he thought he saw something shift in her eyes.

Nagi Seishiro — Forced Proximity

Seishiro Nagi didn’t like effort. He preferred simplicity, staying in his comfort zone, and avoiding anything that felt like too much work.

So when she moved into his apartment as his new roommate, he wasn’t thrilled. She was loud, messy, and always finding ways to drag him into her whirlwind of energy. At first, he counted the days until she’d leave. But as time passed, he started to notice the way her laughter brightened the dull moments, the way she always made sure he had dinner even if she didn’t cook for herself.

One night, as they sat on the floor eating instant ramen, she looked over at him and smiled. “You’re not so bad to live with, you know.”

Nagi shrugged, his usual indifference masking the warmth spreading through his chest. “You’re okay too, I guess.”

She laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Wow, such high praise.”

He glanced at her, his voice softer than usual. “I mean it. I don’t mind you being here.”

Her laughter faded, and she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, Nagi felt like that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

[marshmallowwitharubberband]

No, but fr, as a professor I would rather have handcrafted bullshit bc at least it has soul. And because I have seen students fail at chat gpt and that is somehow more insulting to receive than a half-assed work.

Case in point (keep in mind it's college students):

For video editing class, I gave my students a list of music videos from random artists from other countries (because I like to encourage the younglings to expand their horizons beyond their comfort zone and appreciate the beauty of variety). The assignment was to pick a video, watch it, then write a list of effects or transitions that caught their attention and describe what tools or techniques they could use to emulate them. Then, during class they would have to do just that: emulate the effects to the best of their ability (this was near the end of the semester so they had some knowledge of the software already).

It was supposed to look something like "1:03 minutes, the transition is fast and looks dynamic. It could be done with masking and motion tracking" I gave them examples and guided a practice round in class.

Enter Jimmy, Timmy and Greg.

Jimmy submitted a poorly-written work; very disorganized notes, only chose one effect to write about and his answer to how he'd recreate it was "search for tutorial". I gave him an extension and the chance to redo it in class. He managed to find the tutorials he needed and completed the work more or less successfully (but complaining the whole time).

Timmy submitted something that read like AI (idk how to describe it but it has a distinctive writing voice/style) that was kind of a "making of..." description of the effects. But evidently he didn't even read it bc he couldn't do anything in class since he didn't even watch the video nor knew what effects he was aiming for. I sat with him to actually watch the thing so he could at least know the expected result. I gave him an extension and he did reasonably ok but needed a lot of prodding. He failed the related exam later on.

Greg... oh my god, Greg. His work was also very obviously AI generated. It contained:

- the dictionary definition of the artist's name, not of the artist, just what the word meant.

- the definition of random editing tools like what is blur, what is masking, etc.

- the definition of video editing.

- a wildly inaccurate "biography" of the artist.

I was annoyed because this kid could not even write a dang prompt to at least get more decent results. But I had to be fair. I gave him the extension, he had questions, I answered them, re-explained the whole assignment. He redid and resubmitted... the exact same work. He just broke up some paragraphs to add random timestamps. That didn't even match the video, wdym 4:05, the MV is less than three minutes long!

I failed him on the spot.

All other students managed to follow the instructions just fine, with varying degrees of quality.

So, yeah, as a professor, AI generated works denote you don't even care enough about the class to fail by yourself. But eh, in the end it's YOUR money that's going down the drain when you graduate knowing nothing. (AI can be a very good tool if used right, though. It's just that so far I haven't seen it used right).

here you go professor. several pages of home brewed bullshit. as opposed to the chatgpt-brewed bullshit you're used to these days. i hope u enjoy it i worked very hard on it ❤️

[gumisbwunni]

pt2 of this

Satoru, who was the most jealous guy when it came to you, could not bear the thought of you sitting next to other guys—guys who were making you laugh. Oh, he’s sick.

Satoru, who stares them down, sending daggers with his eyes. And why are you laughing? They’re not that funny. Definitely not funnier than him.

He hates how much he can’t sit next to you, can’t be the one making you laugh or teasing you, like, no one else is worthy of hearing your cute laugh.

Satoru, who got into a fight with some guy you were starting to get too close to for his liking. Mind you, the fight happened right in front of you, but you were too busy to even notice.

And when you found out it was Satoru and your crush, you couldn’t believe it. You asked Satoru what happened, and he said, “He didn’t want to let go of the ball.”

But that’s not what everyone else is saying…

Satoru, who loves when you get mad at him for getting into too many fights. It lowkey makes him want to get into more because he loves the attention you give him.

Satoru, who walked into the first day of class and immediately sat next to you. How could he not? There was no way in hell he’d let some nobody sit next to you.

Satoru, who, on a school trip to the beach, saw you walk down to the deck and followed you.

You two sat there for the rest of the night before heading back to the bus.

Satoru, who takes a mental picture, the way the sunlight kisses your face making his chest tighten painfully.

You were perfect. This moment was perfect. And god, did he want to kiss you, wanted to tell you everything he was scared to say.

Satoru, who could not keep his eyes off you the entire ride back. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t stop replaying the moment.

It was intimate. It was just you, him, and the ocean. The way your doe eyes stared at him, like he was the most innocent, precious thing.

And he was. To you, he was.

Satoru, who insisted you be the first one to sign his cast after he broke his arm. He even let you draw cute flowers, never letting anyone else write on it.

Satoru, who knew you didn’t particularly like speaking in public, so just to get you flustered, he’d purposefully pick you during popcorn reading.

Satoru, who always asked you for a pencil, knowing damn well he had like five of them in his backpack. He just loved it when you rolled your eyes, telling him, “Again?”

Satoru, whose eyes never leave you when you walk into the room. His whole demeanor changes as soon as you step foot in class, and his friends just watch and tease him later.

Satoru, who secretly loves when teachers sit him next to you because he’s heard that saying—that teachers know when students like each other. Not that you’d ever like him, he thought, but boy was he wrong.

Satoru, who sent you a DM after it took you two whole days to accept his request.

a/n: he has NOT in fact sent her a dm :( they need to reconnect asap. @lavnder311 @jkslaugh97 pt.2 is up :3

[solxamber]

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

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??

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."

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[pacofprunes]

die with a smile

daeho x reader

warnings — angst, pure drabble, death, typical squid game shit, crying, gunshots, mentions of blood, inspired by bruno mars and lady g’s song “die with a smile.”

you and daeho had known each other before you joined the games. you both always had a thing for each other, neither wanting to confess. you always feared that if you got together, what if he died in the marines? and he always worried that what if you’d say no? but both of you being in terrible debt, neither one fessing up to the other, joining the games and seeing each other across the room, it felt like the world just stopped for you two.

after the first game and realizing this was a life or death type of thing, you found him once it was over and gave him the tightest hug you could give. he squeezed you back as you cried into his shoulder.

“why would you come? why wouldn’t you tell me? how stupid could you be dae?”

he wipes your tears with his thumb as they keep flowing and he laughs softly.

“you’re here too, remember? no need to yell at me about it. why wouldn’t you tell me?”

you just stay silent and place your face in his chest as he rubs his hand through your hair.

“we’ll stick together. i won’t let anything happen to you, i promise.”

you press your face away from his chest and look up at him.

“really?”

he smiles at you. that signature smile that could light up the whole room.

“wherever you go that’s where I’ll follow”

the second game, you guys were on the same team. you guys made it but seeing all those people die around you, all the blood on the floor that you almost slipped on while racing to the finish line for your life had opened your eyes completely. you couldn’t stay here. voting came around and you pressed the big red ‘X’. you watched as dae-ho’s turn came around and prayed he’d make the smart choice. he hits the red ‘X’ and switches out the blue ‘O’ on his chest before walking over to you and smiling, hooking his arm underneath yours as you lean your head against his shoulder.

after the night comes around he gets up and nudges your shoulder, trying to wake you up. you start to move and finally get up and rub your eyes, immediately smiling once you see it’s him. you pat a spot on your bed, giving him a sign to sit with you. he hops up and you lean your head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around yours.

“dae, do you think we’ll get out of here?”

he goes to speak but you cut him off.

“alive.”

he thinks for a little and it’s silent but then he squeezes your shoulder before speaking.

“i think we’ll get out of here together.”

you take a deep breath and almost hold it there. all the tension in your body threatening to spill. he looks at you concerned before a shaky breath spills out of your mouth.

“dae, i don’t wanna do this anymore.”

the tears well up in your eyes before you can even speak but you stop yourself from talking more and hold your breath once again to keep them in. he pulls you into his chest and wraps his hand around your head and keeps your face in the crook of his neck as he feels the spot get wetter and wetter. he takes a deep breath now before speaking.

“i love you.”

you still and move away, looking at him with your teary eyes in shock.

“what..?”

“i love you.”

he holds his breath. scared of what you may say. hoping he read all the signs correctly and that it was the right time to admit it.

“dae, we can’t.”

he chokes on his own breath, upset about what you may be insinuating.

“why? im sorry.”

you put your hand on his cheek and squeeze his hand with your other hand.

“don’t be sorry. i love you too. but we can’t. if you were to die here, i don’t know what i’d do. if i was left here without you, i—”

he presses you into a tight kiss, bring his free hand up to your cheek while you’re still holding his other and pulls away.

“that’s only going to make me love you even harder. knowing that you feel so deeply about me. i feel the same. but i told you,”

he cups your face with both hands now.

“wherever you go that’s where i’ll follow. as long as you’re here i’m not going anywhere.”

you stare, almost looking through his eyes now and you speak, taking a breath.

“nobody’s promised tomorrow.”

he smiles at you before leaning his forehead into yours and looking into your eyes.

“but as long as you’re here i am.”

—

the third game comes around and was finally announced. it was definitely intense and quite nerve wrecking but daeho makes sure to give you a smile of reassurance.

he squeezes your hand tight as the platform spins around. the speaker called for five people in a room. you run together but you end up getting separated. he’s in a room, the perfect amount of people, but he notices you out there instead of in with him. somebody else was right next to the door he was in, so he opens it and lets them in, allowing them to lock it behind him. gi-hun screams for him, but he just runs to you. he locks you in a hug and you guys pull away and just look each other in the eyes.

“dae-ho, i don’t wanna do this anymore.”

he cups your face in his hands.

“we don’t have to anymore, my love, i love you so much.”

you place your heads in each others necks, hugging as tight as possible, just like before when you first arrived, and then you both tense against each other. gunshots ringing through the air, into your ears, and through your bodies. you both fall to the ground, still in each others arms. with the few breaths he has left, he cups your face in his hand one last time, sending a smile your way. tears filling your eyes before they finally shut, you smile back to him. and even when you both pass, that smile never fully fades.

[4chensungs]

don’t kiss and tell

brothers best friend!jisung x fem. reader

after the incident of your brother finding out you hooked up with one of his friends, you promised to yourself to never look out for him anymore. but who says he’ll give up on you that easily?

wc. 2.8k

warnings. smut (mdni), jisung is down bad, body worship like crazy in here, tit sucking, fingering, ass slapping, unprotected sex

part 1 for context here <3

IT HAS BEEN one whole month since you last talked to jisung. one month since you saw him probably for the last time in a hot minute.

the last few weeks have been extremely unusual; you keep questioning yourself how was he doing, if he's even ever going to appear at your house again to hang out with you brother, like he always did. he's probably not.

and fuck jaemin, fuck him for screwing your bond with him. it's useless, pure jealousy and he's so stupid!, stupid for being this mad with one if his best friends of years, simply because he thinks you're still a child.

on the other hand, jisung is being not so subtle in the way he still wants you. he keeps liking the pics you post on your instagram stories, sometimes even replying to them. and it's the sad fact you're not giving him a single reply.

his mind wanders to the thought of you being already completely over him, wanting to distance yourself fully right now, thanks to your brother.

but your heart knows that's not what you want, and it keeps giving you a warning that the next time that you see him, these feelings will come back stronger than ever.

you miss him. so bad, thinking about him makes you sick.

you're laying in bed, scrolling quietly through your phone when the damn notification appears. why does he keep trying? you sigh out loud.

the__and.y liked your stories.

you ran your hands through your hair, turning off your phone to stare at the ceiling to collect your breath. you can't, your brother is still furious with both of you.

jisung ♡: why do u keep ignoring me in every existing social media

is he really going to do this? at this late at night?

jisung ♡: i miss you

you kept reading his messages and not replying. you didn't contact him for a month.

maybe, just maybe, things may have gotten lighter with jaemin. perhaps he's not really remembering this whole thing, yeah?

you: i'm sorry jisung

you: idk if this is right i really don't know

you: im confused

you turn off your phone again while waiting for his reply. let's give it a try.

jisung ♡: why wouldn't it be right

jisung ♡: jaemin can't control your life, you can do whatever you want

hm.

you: i felt bad that day and he's still so mad with you

you: idc if he's mad with me, he's my brother at the end of the day

you: i worry about you and how hes fucked up your friendship

jisung ♡: baby you know what's fucked up

jisung ♡: you trying to convince yourself that you don't want this because of him

jisung ♡: say to my face that you don't want it

you want this so fucking bad. to be in his arms again, and the thrill of being with him behind closed doors. god, that's all you want in every way.

you: ji

you: i want to see you

jisung ♡: that's right

jisung ♡: i've waited for this princess

jisung ♡: waited so long

you: i need you

you: i don't care anymore

you really don't give a fuck - your brother can hold his protectiveness instinct for himself, he actually can. you can't control what your heart aims for.

and it screams for park jisung.

"you can't ignore him forever, you know that?"

"who says I'm ignoring him? I texted him yesterday saying he should come this weekend." jaemin huffed, acting oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he invited jisung over was because of the boys' annual end of year party.

chenle deadpans at him with his stare, letting out a chuckle, "if you didn't invite him I would've done it myself." he paused, turning his head to look at the man, "that would be bullshit."

bullshit. jaemin swore he almost threw chenle out of the car in the harshest way possible - clicking his tongue in pure annoyance, "yeah, it was just fine when he fucked my sister behind my back."

"i'm pretty sure they did not fuck."

if you didn't then why were you both half naked. in his car. at your backyard?

"i'm telling you, I saw it. she was literally on top of him and she was fucking moaning his name, chenle. that's fucking wrong." your brother spat while still not looking at his friend - eyes focused on the road.

chenle keeps going, "cut this off, jaem. you can't see her as a baby anymore. let her live."

jisung is indeed coming to your house again - sooner than you thought. but it did take some days for you to find out, tho. you brother wasn't the one who told you.

in the same day, the last messages jisung sent you before you went to sleep.

jisung ♡: dress up prettily for me tomorrow

jisung ♡: will you?

you: what??

you: you're coming???

jisung ♡: jaemin told me to go and yeah i didn't expect it as well

jisung ♡: dreaming of you again

jisung ♡: kissing your sweet lips holding you so close to me

jisung ♡: it'll be all mine princess

you: go to sleep ji

you: silly

jisung ♡: i'll show you what's silly tomorrow

—

the sound of the boys laughing and loud pitching talking in the living room did quite mess with your head, anticipating the moment when he comes. it's crazy how you got so dolled up for him only, he's the reason why you're even going out of your room this night.

if it wasn't for jisung, you'd probably just greet the guys and come back to your own quiet place, drowning in your thoughts, alone. just like you always used to do before he appeared in your life.

a knock was heard on your door just right after you finished your makeup. unexpectedly, you meet a very tipsy jaemin.

"what the fuck is this outfit?" he spats, crossing his arms in front of his chest - his body unbalanced. for a split second, you closed your eyes and thanked all the existing Gods under your breath. he's drunk.

you smiled, "felt pretty today. you smell like beer, don't talk to me."

"hey, hey, hey." he grabbed your arm before you could close the door and kick him out, "come say hello to my friends. don't be rude."

you fixed your hair and outfit and went to the living room, being find with chenle, jeno and donghyuck's figures sat around the big table, nestled with all the different kinds of drinks and alcohol.

your breath hitched when jisung was nowhere to be found.

after greeting the guys, you decided to wait in your room - not sure on how, or when will jisung get there and you'll finally get to release all of your wants. show him how much you miss him and vice versa.

not much time had passed before another knock was heard on your door. you were sprawled on bed, dim lighting decorating the ambient.

"come in."

you said that because you thought it was your brother. jisung carefully opened the door, eyes peeking first to check on you.

that scene truly felt like a movie. you slowly got up, a smile starting to pop up in your lips as you walked to him.

your voice trembling, "hi, ji."

you opened the door fully for him to enter your space, he wasted no time to step in and pull you into a hug.

a mess was happening in your head, so ridiculously dizzy from him - the masculine smell of his cologne filling your nostrils, his hands holding your body flush to him while yours gripped his black t shirt, so simple and casual but yet made him look so attractive.

or maybe that’s just because you miss him a lot.

jisung leaned away from your embrace, gently taking your hair out of your face while holding eye contact - hands flew to your hips.

"you look gorgeous. more than ever."

your arms secured their hold around his neck, feeling your cheeks burning red from his words, "just for you." you announced.

he nodded, "all for me."

you both smiled like two idiots in love as he leaned down to kiss you, mouths melting so sweet at first - tongues brushing here and there, hums being heard throughout the kiss, "so pretty in this dress." he mumbles in between.

his back hits the door as he closes it, left hand leaving your hips for a mere second just to lock it.  making absolute sure that no one will be able to interrupt.

jisung grabs a hold of your thighs to help you walk further into your room, so familiar to him.

all the times you've sneaked out, when jisung slept by and left jaemin's room in the middle of the night when he was in a deep sleep. all behind his back with so much carefulness.

when he lays you down he's quick to trail his wet kisses down to your neck, firm hands caressing your whole body, going up and down in motions.

you arch into him, playing with his black hair strands as his face rests on your chest, meanwhile his lips keeps smooching your hot skin.

you sigh in contentment, knees pressing together - trying to give him a sign that you're needy, so painfully needy for him.

"jisung i want- mhhm" your words get cut off by your own whine when his hand grabs the top of your dress to pull it down, hanging it just below your bra.

"don't want to take your dress off.. youre looking too beautiful like this." his deep voice quietly said.

you smile at his sweet comment, holding back all your whines combined with the feeling of his fingers messing with the lace of your white bra, throwing your head back with no shame when he pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, still not taking it off your body.

"so pretty, princess. i could admire you all day."

cool air is fast to hit but it's soon replaced by jisung's hot mouth, circling your breast with his tongue, hand massaging the other while his mouth does wonders on your soft flesh.

when he reaches for your nipple you whine even louder, his saliva pooling and soaking your whole breast when he sucks it into his warm hot mouth, humming nonstop.

"you're crazy ji-jisung."

"should i stop?" he teases, leaning his mouth away from your nipple and replacing it with his finger, rubbing it.

"no for fucks sake.. but I'm trying so hard to keep quiet." your voice trembled slightly.

jisung looks at you then laughs, “they’re so wasted right now, no one’s conscious in that room, love.”

you pout at him, he softly traces your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you again, “I promise you, it’s okay. but I need you to tell me it’s okay with you.”

his soft and caring voice did turn you on even more, it shouldn’t, but it made you wetter. eyes holding so much love and appreciation looking at yours - “I want this. I want you, ji.”

jisung smiles one more time, giving you a nod and resumed his work, mumbling a deep “fuck” under his breath when he tested the waters, hand went under your dress to feel your core.

he pulled the ends of your dress up to your stomach, your thighs ridiculously pressed together. you should be ashamed of how wet you were, but you’re not, not even a single bit.

he gives your thighs a caress, “let me spread them, hm?”

your breath hitches when he brings your knees to your chest, spreading you all open and full for him. jisung mentally coos at the scene in front of him.

just like your bra, white lace panties with a wet dark patch decorated in the middle, like a gift for him. it drove him crazy.

“did you miss me that much, princess?” you can only moan as response when he touches the wet patch with his finger before pulling the lace to the side, holding it in place with one finger, while his middle finger travels up and down your cunt.

wet, so fucking wet, “fuck. love, i might cum just by looking at this.” he cursed and cursed again, eyes wide open and looking straight at your puffy displayed cunt, so wet just for him. he knew that and so did you.

“oh fuck baby i can’t-“ jisung’s fingers spread you open to admire you better - in love, genuinely in love with how your pretty pussy shines for him, glistening and begging to suck him in.

he leans down fast enough to give your clit a quick kiss, “can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.” still caressing your core.

you moan his name desperately at his nasty but sweet comment, tons of whines and “jisung” ‘s leaving your mouth.

“ji please. want your fingers.” you manage to say.

“of course, gotta prep my beautiful girl.” he smiles, an expert finger circling your clit before diving down into your entrance. covered with slick, your cunt invites him just as soon.

experienced fingers pumping in and out continuously, you whine with your eyes closed at the sound of wetness.

jisung’s in complete awe, stoping his staring at your hole to kiss your face, first at the corner of your mouth, then at your lips, shutting your whines off.

“you’re perfect.” he leans away to say.

nothing’s more perfect in this world than the sensation of his long and thick fingers inside you, scissoring you and reaching the deepest and most sensitive spots ever. you’ll say that to him later.

you try to smile but you soon harshly bite your lip when he curled his two fingers inside, you yelped, “jisung! oh my god-“

he kisses you again, and again, until he’s satisfied and thinks you’re ready to take him. jisung’s fingers leave you empty, and you let out a cry - his eyes make their way to between your legs to see how you’re pulsating.

“never seen my princess this wet..” deep cocky voice says.

you reach out to take off your dress, “i’ve missed you.”

when your dress was discarded to the floor, he was quick to unbutton his jeans as they went to the same destination of your clothes.

you could see his erection through his boxers, and as much as you want to such him off right now, you’re needing him inside. now.

your panties were about to be discarded before jisung grabbed your hand and shook his head, “want them on, baby. s’ pretty. keep the bra too.”

knowing how he likes it with you, you turned around and pinned your front to the bed, arching your back and your ass in the air.

“fuck, just like that.” he pumps his cock at first, cooing you while you wait for him.

jisung’s hands flew to your back to arch it even more, then to hold your hips. he rubs the head of his dick on your entrance, how your pussy almost sucks him in just from the rubbing.

when he enters you, you let out a little too loud moan. hands clutching the sheets and tears filling your eyes.

he’s completely focused on how you keep clenching around him - the amusing view of your cunt sucking him all the way in, then out again.

your hips were pressed to his shaft, feeling him so fucking deep into your womb.

jisung coos again, “you don’t know how I’ve been dying for this.” he slaps your ass.

“jisung! jisung fuck, jisung.” you whine like a baby, lost in the pleasure. ass stinging from his big hand slap and cunt begging to be filled until you get sore.

“my love.” another slap, “fucking made just for me.”

his cock is so big and it leaves you like a babbling mess, so big that it almost hurts from how good it is, hits you in all places.

you both were getting closer, his thrusts started to get sloppier and messier, slower as he pulled away to release at your back.

your own release dripped down your pussy and thighs, while his hot cum painted your back down to your ass cheeks. what a scene.

“want them all to see this mess.. jaemin needs to see how you’re good to me.“ he admires the sight of your cunt clenching and unclenching around absolutely nothing but the air, “can’t believe you’re mine and no one can ever change that.”

you tiredly laid back on your back again, trying to fix your hair. jisung’s sweaty body joined you after tossing the dirty sheets aside, he breathes heavy, but still with that cute smile on his lips.

“do you think they heard something?.” you look up at him, voice low.

jisung thinks for a second, furrowing his brows, “i honestly don’t think so, baby. but you need to change these sheets..”

“of course i will, ji.” you laughed fondly. there’s still some questions hanging in the air, with what face will he come back to the boys?

“and if they ask you where were you this whole time and what were you doing…?”

“then i’ll just say that i was fucking the prettiest girl in the family and i don’t regret it.”

—

© 4chensungs

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 10/Jan/2025

Just a quick one this week as I wasn’t going to be on social media but just wanted to check in with everyone!

So this week we spent planning out the year for social media things, and I also read through the whole of Book Four’s plan again to refresh myself with where I’m at and where I’m going :D

As I said, I want to finish Book Four this year even with it being more, but I know I can do it!

In order to do that though, I’m planning to get a lot of social media content done this month for the year ahead, meaning that’ll open up the rest of the year so I can almost solely focus on Book Four. I’m really hoping that getting as much of that completed as I can will help with just being able to slam ahead on the writing instead of stopping and starting.

So it’ll a bit of a different routine than past years, but hopefully will make a ton of difference! And I’ve already got some scenarios finished which I am loving, including one that fits nicely between Book Three and Four that I couldn’t stop thinking about over Christmas break, hehe! :D

The demo update will also be happening—looking at getting the early access on Patreon up the end of next week, with public access late the week after.

Hope you all had a great start to the new year! It’s so good to be back in the embrace of Wayhaven, hehe! <3

[darnell-la]

A MANS GAME

summary: Eddie’s mind instantly went wild when he saw a woman prancing around like she loved bands and board games. when that same woman asked him to sell her weed, she couldn’t help but think he wasn’t being set up by the one and only Jason Carver. if y/n thought she could humiliate Eddie, and make him look like a fool, she was wrong. he was going to show her that.

warnings: misogyny, hate, delusion, drug deal, drug use, planned trap, semi kidnapping, unconstitutional drugging, unconstitutional fingering, SA, slight BDSM, rough sex, baby trapping, etc

note: hey... this is another requested dark-themed story, but with Eddie Munson who our number one fans know we’re obsessed with. do not read if CNC/SA makes you uncomfortable!

If you like dark-themed stories, follow our account @dark-authorr. Request us anything!

———

“And, what exactly is she wearing?” Eddie asked as he saw the new girl pass with a gamer shirt, that he’s never seen before, only rarely. “I think it’s some kind of game. Don’t know exactly,” Dustin said, not really paying attention to her.

“So girls like games now? Hm,” Eddie sarcastically said, eying y/n through the hallway as people complimented her style. “Yeah, which is hot, actually,” Mike said, making Eddie roll his eyes.

In his years of living, he has never met a girl who genuinely liked games, unless they had a boyfriend. She was new to the school, so there was no way she had one. He wouldn’t believe it if she said she was long-distance.

“Isn’t that, like, all you’ve been looking for? Or are you still on Christy? — She’s never gonna leave Jason Carver, dude. Especially not for you! No offense,” Sinclair said. “None taken,” Eddie said, knowing Sinclair was right.

For the rest of the day, Eddie’s eyes had been opened every time y/n walked by, stalking and watching her every move. There was just someone about her that he didn’t like.

He swore she was just another preppy, stuck-up girl who would do anything to get a little attention.

“Hey, uh, Eddie?” Y/n asked, now in front of his face. He had zoned out. “Yeah?” He asked quickly, hoping she wasn’t here to ask what his problem was for watching her every move.

“I heard you sell, and I just left Cali. You wouldn’t mind selling me anything, right? I-I have extra if you’re afraid I’ll tell,” y/n said, watching how Eddie’s eyes widen.

When she looked at him, she couldn’t stop but think how amazing he was. She barely saw men like this around in Hawkins.

“Sure, but, I gotta ask — Do you even smoke? Or is this like a, I wanna fit in, thing?” He asked, making her giggle at his thought process. “I really smoke, hun,” she smiled, flashing diamonds that were glued to her teeth. She was truly into what she dressed like, but, Eddie couldn’t seem to believe it.

“Hm, well, I’ve got some at the crib. Maybe stop by later tonight? My uncles outta town so, any late times doesn’t matter to me,” Eddie said, getting a dark feeling in the back of his mind, but he slightly ignored it.

“That’s fine with me,” y/n said before she slowly walked off after giving one last smile. “Yeah, we’ll see if you’re genuine, girly,” Eddie said under his breath, convincing himself that she had to be some kind of setup.

Eddie had horrible overthinking problems. No one throughout his whole high school career liked him, so why, now that he’s in college, would a girl randomly know he sells weed and would want some from him.

“Dude, you good? Looks like she’s got your tongue,” Sinclair said, making Eddie laugh loudly. “Her? Oh, Jesus, no — A girl like that is just a plant to see if I’d fall for it,” Eddie spoke, sounding delusional as always.

“What do you mean, plant?” Mike asked. “You see, she just had a class with Jason, and I saw them talking. I bet you he’s setting me up by swinging a girl like that my way,” Eddie said, truly believing what he was saying.

“And, how would he possibly set you up, Eds? She doesn’t even look like she’d do something like that to you. A stranger!” Dustin said as he rolled his eyes, tired of him seeing everything as some trap.

“Oh, but I bet, she would. You see, a girl like that doesn’t exist. I bet you tonight, she’ll come over, make some move then leave before we get to do anything, then tell the whole school how I thought someone finally liked me,”

The younger men looked at each other, confused about why Eddie was acting this way. She was nice. They barely hear that around here, and he’s always shutting her down.

“Okay, man, whatever you say,” Sinclair said before he walked off with his basketball team that had just passed. “You need to work on yourself dude,” Dustin said. “Seriously,” Mike added.

It’s currently late at night, almost so late, that Eddie thought she wouldn’t show up. That was until he heard a knock on his front door.

Eddie got up from his and made his way to the front. He had a few things to ask y/n to test out what kind of person she was.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” y/n said as she walked in after Eddie stepped aside. “No problem, I was just looking at the band you have in your shirt, and I was curious,” Eddie got straight into it.

“This band? Oh, yeah, they’re kind of my favorite,” y/n smiled. “Ah huh — I realized they don’t really do music. They’re more into book writing,” Eddie said, which was correct.

“Yep, that's how I got into them. I love reading, and when I found out they had music, that was even better,” she said, making him chuckle low. “So you like sec?” He asked, making her laugh.

“Oh, uh- Yeah. Yes, I do,” she said as he scanned her figure. He hadn’t gotten a great look at her today, but now he did. Her body was more banging than he had thought.

“Hm, you into all that stuff they talk about? I mean, my bands are freaks, I’ve never seen one like yours. Especially with girls in them,” he said.

Y/n usually never felt off about talking about who she liked to watch and listen to, but there was something about the way Eddie came off, that made her feel weird.

“I guess, but I’m not really down to talk about that,” y/n said, warning Eddie that she was getting uncomfortable. “Oh, what are my manners- I’m sorry — Let’s get you your purchase,” Eddie said as he guided her to the back where his room was located.

Eddie stood to the side after he opened the door, looking at her for her reaction that he’d been waiting for all night.

Once y/n stepped into his room, her eyes slightly widened at his layout. She knew he was a metalhead, but she didn’t expect all of these sexual toys to be laid out. Some even looked fresh from the store.

“Over here — I’ve got a couple of pre-rolls, and this new hash I kind of whipped up myself, that’s It’s free. I want to see how my first costume feels about it,” Eddie said as he guided her to his bed.

The young man picked up this new roll-up he had made and handed it to the young woman. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on smoking now,” y/n said. “C’mon — Just one hit. I wanna make sure it at least smells, and tastes good,”

Y/n felt a bit off, but she didn’t want to shame the man. She knew he barely had people over, so she accepted what he was giving.

“Fine,” she smiled as she took the lighter that Eddie had lifted up to give her. “Sit down and get a little comfortable,” Eddie suggested as she hopped in his bed, and pat the spot next to him.

Y/n softly sat next to the man, ready to see what he’s created. She wanted to be a nice help, so she quickly lit the joint and took a hard hit.

She coughed a bit, not knowing it would be this strong. It barely had a taste of weed, more like something else that she couldn’t place her hand on.

“Take a few more,” Eddie pressured. “I don’t really think-“ y/n tried saying. “Hey — Just a few more, and I’ll even cut the price,” Eddie said, knowing exactly where he was going with everything.

Y/n took a deep slow breath before she took another hit. She didn’t exactly want to, but she’s driven a bit high before. She should be fine.

Y/n took another hit, each puff getting more smoke in her lungs, making it hard for her to feel what was happening.

“Feels good?” Eddie asked as he placed a hand on her thigh. “Actually does,” y/n said, surprised that she felt the high so fast. “Wanna know what’s in it, princess?” He asked, making her nod as she took another long drag.

“I knew you like California weed, so I put some pure hashish in the roll,” Eddie said as he rubbed her thigh, getting closer to her heat that she barely noticed. She felt him but didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, and you wanna know what else?” He asked as his free hand slowly moved up to her face, so he could rub at her cheek. “What?” Y/n asked low as she turned his way, feeling her eyes get extremely heavy.

“For the fun ride, I sprinkled a bit of opioids and benzodiazepine, just to get you a little woozy,” Eddie smiled, knowing that would trigger her brain. “What?” She wanted to sound more upset, but she couldn’t.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” the young woman said as she tried getting up, but she was too weak. “Why? I thought you liked it here? The room was decorated just for you,” Eddie said as he slowly reached under her skirt.

“No,” was all y/n could let out when she felt him pull her panties to the side. “What was that, princes?” Eddie asked as he leaned into her face, wanting to see and hear her struggle.

“No,” she breathed out as a tear rolled down her eyes. “And, why is that? I thought these half-high fishnets were meant for foreplay,” Eddie chuckled as he slowly pushed a ringed finger into her cunt.

“N-No,” y/n stuttered, saying that word too many times for him to keep going. “Just relax, princess — I thought you liked it kinky? I bought the chains, the gags, the toys, and the drugs. Wasn’t one song called, drug me? I assumed that would be your favorite,”

Eddie had pushed another ringed finger into y/n as he leaned down to her neck and began sucking on a few spots. There was no way he wouldn’t get what Jason set him up for.

Eddie still believed she came here just to humiliate him. He didn’t regret setting this up for her. She deserved it for what he thought she was going to put him through.

“Eddie?” Y/n choked on her cry as her walls fluttered around his fingers. “Oh, no, no — You don’t get to cum yet,” Eddie said as he pulled out of her, and pushed her down into his bed.

“You’re gonna let me fill you up first — Then maybe you can cum on my face while I eat out your overstimulated pussy,”

Eddie sounded evil to y/n. His voice echoed through her mind like a nightmare, but she couldn’t yell at him like she wanted to. She couldn’t fight him like she wanted to.

“I’m gonna tie your arms behind your back, somehow tie your legs so they’re forced open, then gag you before I get started,”

Eddie didn’t lie and did just that in under five minutes. He had looked up videos and learned quick. She should feel special for what he’s doing for her, since this is what she likes, after all.

“Tied you down for a little, and you’re already soaked, Jesus Christ,” Eddie teased as he played with her folds, watching his juice spill out of her hole that he could’ve sworn gripped a few times around air.

“You want me, don’t you? Even if this was all a joke for Jason, you actually want me, and not him — You could've just asked me, princess. I would’ve still rocked your world, but I guess you wanted it rougher,”

Eddie happily pulled himself out of his jeans, and stroked, seeing he had already been leaking pre-cum. She was too hot to be this hard already.

“You knew wearing that would catch my attention at school. Fuck, y/n, you’re just some being else — I haven’t even fucked you yet,” Eddie was surprised at how he felt about y/n in under twenty-four hours.

“I’m gonna make you mine, princess. Being pregnant in college isn’t too bad right? Wasn’t one of the female singers pregnant in college too?” Eddie asked the slightly uncomfortable woman as he slowly pushed at her entrance.

“Doesn’t matter — You’d look amazing with my kids. I’ll give you more than one — That’ll show Jason not to mess with me again,”

Eddie had gone too delusional by now. He thought that impregnated y/n would make Jason upset that his plan didn’t work, or show y/n that playing with a man isn’t a good idea.

“E-Eddie,” y/n cried low as he filled her with every inch. He wasted no time to begin his thrust and taunt y/n for her moans that she couldn’t hold back. He was huge and reached every good area y/n couldn’t even reach with her toys.

“You like it? C’mon, baby, tell me you like it. I’ll be fuckin’ you every day to show you who I am. If you thought you could make a fool out of me, then you were wrong, princess. So fuckin’ wrong. I’ll show you,”

[travelbasscase]

I'm from a desert-y region where the foliage tends to be in browns and tans except for the few months after we get rain (rare).

I've also spent a LOT of time in Indiana.

Every. Single. Time. that I arrive I am amazed.

Everything is so green! There are tons and tons of trees and bushes and grass and shrubs everywhere! When I go hiking, I feel wetness in the air (not always fun, but still exciting). It's so flat! Hiking isn't difficult at all, I can just take a nice stroll!

And the few times I've gone in winter are even more exciting! To my cousins a half-inch of snow is boring, but to me a half-inch of snow is one of the most thrilling things in my life. I've seen snow maybe eight times in my whole life, counting that half-inch. Seeing the canal with ice on it is like entering a whole new world. It's so cold and icy! It's awesome!

And the fauna! We don't have cardinals back home. Who knew birds can be so vibrantly red? We don't have chipmunks, either. They're like small squirrels! Adorable! Fireflies never get old (who cares that apparently they're called lightning bugs over there?). These flies glow, and you act like this is normal??? That caterpillar is the fuzziest little creature, I just adore him.

And hey, this is the Starbucks on Ditch St near Holliday Park! I read about it in a John Green book and now here I am sipping my latte in the same place.

Your hometown is boring to YOU. Your hometown is scintillating to ME.

And I know I feel the same way about my hometown! That's the magic of the world.

[melminli]

ex, for a reason

summery - your boyfriend was the sweetest guy in the whole world, but maybe that was the problem.

pairing: kang dae-ho x fem. reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: modern au, angst w/ comfort, fluff

the request.

He really shouldn't worry about it as much as he did right now because the whole thing was just totally stupid, and all the stuff that had been going through his head was irrational. Dae-ho knew that and yet, he just couldn't stop himself from imagining multiple crazy scenarios in which you were breaking up with him - he didn't want any of this, why would he? The only heart that got broken in the process was his and it was all because of nothing.

Well, maybe there was this one thing, and that was that Dae-ho had been feeling a bit - well let’s just say - insecure about your relationship. He was very much aware of the fact that he had zero resemblance to the guys you usually date because he wasn't, well - he wasn't an asshole. You and even most of you’re friends make fun of it now that you two are together and it actually turned into some kind of inside joke that you broke the curse with him. Though, Dae-ho didn’t really feel like laughing about it right now.

This whole thing is so stupid, he thought to himself as he absently watched some show on the TV before he suddenly heard you laughing next to him. He just looked at you shortly and knew that it was probably because of something funny you saw on your cell phone. But, he just couldn’t restrain himself and had to remember the conversation you had a few days ago. He sighed again with a heavy heart at the memory because apparently, your last ex - some guy named Thanos? - had messaged you out of the blue and asked you what you were up to.

"Hey, look who just sent me a text. I thought I had blocked him everywhere?" you exclaimed, laughing as you shoved your cell phone in his face. Dae-ho just looked a bit confused at the message after he read it because he didn’t really get what you were talking about. He read it one more time, though, he was still kind of lost because it honestly just looked like a normal message, how was he supposed to figure out what was going on?

You then decided to reveal the whole thing since your boyfriend just continued to send you confused glances. "It's my ex. You know, I told you about him. The one I dated before we met."

Yeah, he could remember bits and pieces of that. "So, what does he want?" he asked, still not quite sure what was going on.

You sighed at his innocence. "He obviously wants to get back together.“

"Does he?" Dae-ho asked and was seriously surprised. He pointed at your phone while he talked. "But he just asked if you still had his old sweater, that could mean anything."

You waved as you laughed. "Oh, trust me. I know what that means.“ you assured him and thought back to the old days, which was something you didn’t like to do. „We were pretty much on and off in our whole relationship because I always tried to break things off after fighting - but then always take him back afterward. So, it just started to turn into a really bad cycle at some point, I guess.“ you tried to explain. „Anyway, he used to text me about some meaningless thing as soon as he wanted to get back together and this is one of those texts since he's also not the kind of person to send you a message if he doesn't want anything from you. I’m just surprised that he would try this again because I broke things up with him for real the last time, trust me.“

Oh. It felt like Dae-ho should be laughing at your ex's desperate attempt to get back together with you now, but he felt more like ugly crying, to be honest. „Yeah, that is pretty funny.“ he just decided to say with a forced smile on his face.

Since then, the whole situation just wouldn't let him go. No matter how hard he tried to. The way you told it, made it seem like you two got back together a lot and who was to say that maybe a part of you wouldn't want to try again - purely because of muscle memory? He wasn't the type to get irrationally angry over something like that, but he'd be lying if he said that all these negative thoughts didn't make him incredibly depressed the past few days.

"Hey, I know I've asked you this a few times now, but are you sure everything's okay?" you finally asked him when you noticed how he wasn't really paying attention to what was going on in his show. It was unusual for him to be so quiet when usually some comment about what was happening would leave him every minute.

He just nodded under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he said, feeling guilty again for being the way he was right now.

You moved a little closer to him and hugged him lightly from the side. "You're lying and I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me on your own because, as you know, I'm not the most patient person on earth."

He avoided your gaze guiltily. "It's stupid."

"It's clearly not, because you've been acting like a depressed housewife for days."

He laughed lightly along with you at that little joke of yours. "And how is that supposed to look like?"

You smiled. "You know, you're like you always are - you make dinner, you bring me my favorite tea, but you sigh very loudly every now and then plus you're also a bit distant." you continued to broach the subject in a slightly joking manner to get rid of the heavy air around you two.

Of course, you would be aware of his bad mood. "Well, I just noticed that I'm not like the other guys you've dated before," he whispered casually while playing with the fabric of his shirt. Even though, you both knew that it seemed to be a topic that was bothering him.

You nodded. "So?" you just asked him, thinking something other would follow since you couldn’t see what the problem was. Though, there didn't seem to be anything more coming. "That's all? You’re upset because you're not like my shitty boyfriends in the past?" you repeated a bit in disbelief.

Dae-ho looked to the side, embarrassed. "I told you it was stupid..." he whispered. "I just don’t want you to think that I’m boring or something…"

You just took him in your arms and tried to suppress your laughter so as not to add salt to the wound. "I didn't mean it like that, but I'm telling you this now because you obviously to need to hear it," you said as you placed a kiss on his head. "You're not boring. You’re the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world and I would never trade you for any of my past relationships. I love you and I've never even said those words to any of my exes, did you know that?" you asked him, watching as he slowly looked up to you. "…really?" he asked you shyly, even though you had been together for a while now.

You smiled. "Really," you assured him and were glad to see your boyfriend in his normal happy state again. However, you then remembered the conversation you had a few days ago. "Was this whole thing about Thanos? You don't have to worry about him. I hate that guy, he like probably cheated on me more times than he admitted." you laughed and stopped when something else came to mind. "Besides, I think he also stole some money from me..."

Dae-ho looked at you worriedly as he held you even tighter. "Oh my god, are you serious? You never told me that, is that why you broke up with him?"

You looked away a little embarrassed yourself this time and didn't dare to confess to him that it had unfortunately taken a lot more than that for it to end between the two of you. Those weren't your proudest moments in your life. "Yeah, sure..."

But who cared about all that, right? You were the happiest you could ever be with Dae-ho and that was all that mattered. Maybe you should remind him more of that because he really didn't deserve to feel inferior to someone like that damn Thanos.

[thewertsearch]

Anonymous asked: just read through your entire liveblog and wow. what a place to catch up. do you have any predictions about what the postscratch versions of the guardians will be? what about the guardian versions of the kids?

So.

Mom Lalonde, Grandpa Harley, Nanna Egbert, and Bro Strider, reborn as the story's protagonists, and thrust into a Playerdom I never expected them to bear. The consequences of this reveal are likely to kick in on the very next page - and since that's a page I'm clicking on tonight, this is my last chance for some blind speculation.

There are an absolute mountain of angles I could potentially cover here, and it's impossible to address all the implications of this twist, so I'm just going to touch on a few key questions that Act 6 will need to answer sooner rather than later.

Without further ado, let's dive into our first question.

Who, exactly, is raising these kids?

The simplest solution, of course, would be a one-to-one exchange between each Player and their Guardian. That certainly seems to be the case for Jade and Grandpa, who have been directly swapped. This would imply that Rose raised Mom, Dave raised Bro, and John might have raised Nanna. (More on that later.)

Still, that's not the only possibility. There's no reason why Dave couldn't raise the adolescent Mom instead, for example, with Rose adopting the younger Bro in his stead. That particular configuration has a lot of character potential, actually, because Bro Lalonde would undoubtedly be an unholy terror, and Mom Strider might just be one of the coolest characters I've ever conceived of.

This aesthetic, with those shades? Come on.

...all that said, though, I'm fairly sure we are just getting a one-to-one swap. That's how it appears to have worked for the trolls, and the one post-Scratch Player with a confirmed Guardian already matches this pattern.

Plus, swapping the kids with their own parents is just so interesting, on a character level, as it'd add a whole new dimension of analysis to the fucked-up relationships between Bro & Dave, Mom & Rose, and Grandpa & Jade.

Seeing how they all treat each other, now that the roles have been reversed, would be incredibly illuminating, and might shed some light on the thought processes of the pre-Scratched Guardians, as they were raising their own respective charges.

Anyway - now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about each individual family.

The Egberts

Astute readers will notice that I only mentioned the Guardian-Player parallels for three of our Players above - and that's because when it comes to the fourth, there's a slight complication.

Namely, Dad Egbert no longer exists.

This means that Nanna's home life can't parallel John's, because the man who raised John was never even born. It's possible, then, that John will simply raise Nanna himself, as her grandfather.

Honestly, that's the scenario I'm hoping for, here. Out of our four original Players, I think that John would be the best parent by far - he's sweet, resilient, and has a natural talent for nurturing the positive qualities of the people he loves. If a baby lands in his backyard, he's going to rise to the challenge, octogenarianism be damned.

...now, here's where I'd speculate a little about Nanna's personality, but she's the one post-Scratch Player I can't really get a bead on. We only ever interacted with her Spritesona, whose personality was obviously corrupted by the presence of the jester doll.

As a result, I don't really have a clue what Nanna will be like. The only thing I'm sure about, if John's the one raising her, is that she'll be loved.

The Striders

First of all, I have faith in Dave.

I think he's more or less guaranteed to be a better Guardian than his brother ever was. Granted, I don't think Dave would be particularly paternal, but I also think he'll be able to refrain from beating Bro's ass with a puppet, which is progress.

I think Dave would be a laissez-faire type of guardian, who allows the younger Bro a lot more agency and autonomy than other kids his age, but also struggles to be the adult in the room when his kid needs guidance. He's not going to be as traumatized as his younger self, but I bet it's still borderline impossible to have a serious conversation with him. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Kid Bro turned out to be the more mature of the pair.

In a nutshell, Dave was born to be a cool uncle, but was forced unwittingly into a parental role instead. He's doing his best.

Quite frankly, I'm very worried about Kid Bro.

If we assume that every Paradox Clone keeps the same Veil item as last time - and there's no reason why they wouldn't - then Bro will be coming down with Lil' Cal, the cursed puppet created by Gamzee's Chucklevoodoos.

I'm still convinced that long-term exposure to this abomination was the main reason Bro was so batshit insane, and while the younger Bro won't have been around it for quite as long, he'll still have thirteen years of an evil Juggalo's Rage miasma being beamed into his brain.

I think Kid Bro will be a little batshit, but not completely batshit. We'll see a child with the potential to become the deranged ventriloquist who tormented Dave, but one who can still be saved, if we can just get that hell puppet away from him.

Separated from Cal, I still think Bro will be a memelord, and I'm sure not all his interests came from the puppet. I think this guy was always destined to be a pretty bizarre dude - but with luck, this iteration of him will be a little more pleasant to be around.

The Lalondes

Rose... could go either way, honestly.

Just like Dave, I don't think she's the type who'd willingly choose to be a parent. Rose doesn't want a baby, she wants a library full of cursed tomes, a coven of witches to scheme with, and to live in an enormous gothic castle with her wife, Kanaya Maryam. Her ideal lifestyle couldn't handle a kid, and I think she's self-aware enough to know that, and adopt a hundred mutant kittens instead.

That said... if she had to raise a daughter, I think she'd try her best to do right by the girl. I think some part of her would absolutely resent the fact that she's a background character in someone else's life - especially if, like the Sufferer, she remembers being a Player - but she'd do everything she could to keep that resentment to herself.

Rose would be an alright mother. A little cold, maybe, and more than a little distant, but she'd still love her Roxy.

As for Roxy, I can only assume she's a gigantic fucking badass. Even among the Guardians, her barehanded combat feats were always astounding, and I think she and Kid Bro will be the primary combatants of their session.

I also think she'll be one of the most analytical, scientifically-minded Players we've ever seen. Her adult self was experimenting with Ectobiology even outside of Sburb, which suggests to me an intense curiosity about how all this shit works, which isn't present in most of our other heroes. Like Rose, she'll be a researcher, and maybe even a Seer - but while Rose searched for the truth via magic and mysticism, Roxy's research will be entirely scientific.

Honestly, the most exciting thing about finally meeting Roxy is the milestone it'll represent. I'll finally, finally have encountered every character I knew about prior to starting the comic.

The Harleys

Grandma Jade was still the Witch of Space, and was clearly aware of that fact.

This tells us that:

John, Rose and Dave also retained their Titles, even if they don't know it.

Grandma Jade was probably aware of Sburb and its secrets, especially if she was living near the Frog Temple.

Grandma Jade was the Witch of Space. She's gone.

...and I have a theory about what happened to her.

I think that when Grandpa was a baby, Jade travelled to Anachronism Island, just like her predecessor did - but this time around, it wasn't Bec who greeted her at the Temple.

No, I think Jade had a fatal encounter with the new First Guardian of Earth - a corrupted First Guardian, spliced with the same HONK code that created Scratch. Kid Grandpa clearly survived whatever happened next, and I think it's horribly plausible that the new First Guardian is a pseudo-Guardian to him, the same way Becquerel was to Jade.

In other words, this kid might be completely compromised, manipulated by English's servant since infancy. Let's not forget that he's the one who suggested making the bunny to Jade, which is the reason Jack was able to ascend in the first place...

...but someone suggested it to him, first.

Anyway, those are my high-level thoughts about the new timeline's key players. We'll be starting Act 6 in an hour or so, and I've got a feeling that we're about to see Nanna standing in a very familiar room.

After all, it just so happens that today...

[lotus-n-l0ve]

THREADS OF AFFECTION

— Biker!Ryomen Sukuna x Bestfriend!Female Reader

Sometimes, The One You Need Has Always Been There.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

*⁠.⁠✧ SYNOPSIS : After a rough experience with your boyfriend, you turn to your best friend Sukuna. As the night goes on words unravel. The tension between you two grows and everything lay in your hand. But one thing for sure—Sukuna will always be there for you, no matter what.

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : No cheating, bestfriend!sukuna, one sided pining, almost rape, traumatizing elements, vulgar language, confession, 3k words.

*⁠.⁠✧ NOTE FROM LOTUS : O my gosh! I'm so excited. I'm back in my Sukuna brain riot days. He is all I'm thinking about nowadays. Also, always remember that unless it's an explicit "yes", it can't be counted as consent.

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

➥ THREADS OF AFFECTION : THE MONTAGE

DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Sukuna’s towering body pushed the blondie against the sink, his lips locked with her in a fiery battle, fighting for dominance. Their hands roamed all over each other's body, desperate to get rid of any article of clothing. Even the biggest earthquake or tsunami could not stop him from getting any release tonight. Nothing but the familiar ringtone of piano that he set specifically for you could get in his way.

Sukuna pulled out the phone faster than he could blink, ignoring the whine of the very high and wasted blondie who's name he didn't even bother to remember, Sukuna slid the accept icon across the screen and pressed the cold phone close to his ear.

“Hello?” Sukuna said as he waited for any response but was only met with silence.

“Suku—” Before the blondie could speak, his hand slammed on her palm, forcing her to keep quiet. Her weak punches did little to no damage to Sukuna.

“S-Sukuna…” the trembling voice of yours from the other side of the call threw him over the edge. His eyes darkened and eyebrows frowned, “Where are you?”

After a few seconds of silence you spoke again, “I'm….. I'm outside of Ryle’s house.”

“I'm coming.” Sukuna cut the call and strode out of the party house, ignoring the angry calls, telling him to go back.

The black yzf-r1 cut through the wind. It took Sukuna approximately 10 minutes to get to your location. Even from far away he could see you sitting on the sidelines, knees pulled to your chest, restless sobs eruption from your chest. His bike stopped in front of you. Crouching down in front of you, he cupped your cheeks in his warm hands and raised your head up.

“What happened?” Sukuna asked as he whipped your cheeks only for them to get wet the next second.

“Kuna.” You broke into another feat of breakdown. The words coming out of your mouth sounded like only nonsense.

“Hush, calm down.” He pulled you in his arms. Sturdy fingers running through your hair, providing solace for you, “Follow my breath, come on.”

Your breath aligned with his and finally your speeding heart came to a steady pace. Sukuna broke the hug and whipped your cheeks clean again.

His hold on your face didn't release, “Now tell me what happened?”

You recalled how you ended up here. ‘Little miss virgin’ is what your friends called you. Heck! Even the whole school called you that. It's not like you didn't want to have sex. You just never had the right opportunity for it. Random hook-ups were not your thing. You wanted your first time to be with a special someone.

That's where Ryle came into the picture. He was your seatmate in English class. Because of his continued bad grades Mr. Smith asked you to tutor him in exchange for extra points in the final semester. He was a nice sweet guy who always made you laugh and thus you gave him a chance when he proposed to you.

Well, he was not such a nice guy after all. A month of dating, Ryle was very clear about intimacy. He wanted to have sex with you, he brought up that topic quite often and after a month of thinking you finally prepared yourself to lose your v-card. And that night was tonight.

Ryle was very excited and the big grin on his face on the way to his house made it very clear. You were barely inside the house when his lips attacked yours, catching you off-guard. Your hands, as if instinctively grabbed his shoulders to push him away but his hands on your waist pinned you to the door.

Panic flooded in your heart. Everything felt rushed. You thought you would have enough time to prepare yourself while he took a shower but now you wanted to bolt out of there. Your view hazed and everything became blurry. When you were on the brink of passing out, then did Ryle pull back but dived right down your neck.

“Ryle, stop. Stop it.” Your voice was close to yelling.

Ryle paid no mind to your protest. Placing wet kisses down your neck that felt like a burning rod was touching your skin.

“RYLE, STOP!” You pushed him with all of your strength.

Ryle stumbled back and hit his head on the wall. A painful grunt came out of his mouth as he clutched his head. Guilt filled you in as you quickly rushed to his side.

“Are you okay? I'm so sorr—” tried to grab his hand only for him to jerk your hand away.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck was that?” Ryle shouted on top of his lungs.

‘I’m s-so sorry…..” your voice trembled.

Ryle took a deep breath, standing up straight, “Okay, it's okay. It's your first time so I understand. Let's continue.”

Ryle grabbed both sides of your face and kissed you again only for you to avoid it and step back.

“Ryle, how about we stop today. I feel a little tired.”

And with each word the smile on his face wavered till it faded into the darkness. You didn't like the look in his eyes, the negative feeling. The Ryle you knew was always so nice to you so his next action came as a heartbreaking shock to you.

His hands gripped your arms with so much strength, his nails dug into your skin, as he shouted at you, “Are you fucking with me right now, Y/N? I didn't put up with you all these days only for you to chicken out and stop me from getting my fun.”

“R-Ryle, you are h-hurting me.” Tears pricked your eyes.

“And you are annoying me. Did you think I ran around you like a dog for nothing huh? Fuck! The least you can do is shut up and take it.”

You didn't like this Ryle. He scared you, suffocated you with fear. His words sent you in a spiral of thoughts. The guy in front of you was nothing but a potential rapist.

In fear, words spouted out of your mouth like a fountain, “Ryle, let me go right now. Otherwise Sukuna will hear about this and you and I both know that you will not like what comes next.”

You looked straight into his eyes, daring him to continue with his absurd act. You could tell, he had more to say but only the name of Sukuna was enough to evoke terror in his heart. No one in their right mind would like to be on his bad side. His personality may have subdued now but his chaotic past personality was well known to everyone. Not to mention his status as the heir of Lumino Corp.

Finally Ryle released you but not without a hurtful shove. He went up the stairs muttering, “Get the fuck out of my house.”

You didn't need to be told twice.

“That damn fucker!” Sukuna jumped up running towards the front door, with the intention of killing, you were sure of.

You hurriedly blocked his way, wrapping your arm around his huge torso, “Wait Sukuna, he is not alone.”

That's when Sukuna heard the indecent noises coming from the house. Sukuna tried to get out of your hold, his jaw locked in a clench, “Even more reasons to end that fucker.”

Your arms only became more firm around him, “No, let's go home. I don't want to be here, I'm not feeling very good.”

Sukuna felt a debate in his heart before he finally took your adequately smaller hand in his and brought you to the parked beast of a bike. Your feelings were way more important than breaking that prick’s nose at the moment. Putting his helmet on you he buckled it tight. His body defending you against the seer hits of wind. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and forehead resting on his back as the night played in your head like a movie.

“I didn't put up with you all these days only for you to chicken out and stop me from getting my fun.” was what he said. You wonder if everything was fake. From him being interested in the same subject as you to the same food. All the times he called you late into the night only to hear your voice to getting you coffee every morning. Maybe, everything was fake.Your arms tightened around his waist, the only source of comfort for you, now and forever.

Sukuna’s apartment building, which turned into your hideout over the years, came into sight. Sukuna parked his bike in the underground garage. You didn’t feel like moving but still reluctantly got down from the bike, followed by Sukuna. He led you to the elevator and then to his apartment on the 17th floor.

You found yourself sitting on the gray couch in the living room as Sukuna rummaged through the fridge, “Want something to drink.”

“Anything will do.” You replied as you fidgeted with the blanket on your lap.

Sukuna came back to the living room, placing a can of matcha milk shake as he settled on the couch beside you with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. You picked up the can, taking sips of your drink.

The two of you sat in silence for a long time. Sukuna was bad with words, comforting someone was not his forte but that's what you liked. The comforting silence with him. He let you pick what wanted to do instead of forcing.

It was a quarter till an hour when all your resolve broke and a waterfall of tears ran down your cheeks without break, painful sobbs erupting from your heart. Sukuna silently pulled your head in his chest, his hand running through your head in gentle strokes.

You let all the agony out that you had been holding inside since the moment you went to Ryle’s house. You felt used, as if you are nothing worth other than your body. All the lies of Ryle kept floating in your mind.

“God! I'm so stupid.” You almost whimpered saying those words.

His hand stopped midway in your hair before resuming, “Stop, cry all you want but don't you dare degrade yourself for a lowlife like him.”

“I don't know what to do. Today was supposed to be so special but it turned into a disaster all because I'm such a coward.” Your voice trembled with each word.

“I said stop.” Sukuna held your shoulders and pushed you away from him. You saw an unexplainable fury in his eyes that you knew wasn't directed towards you.

His eyes softened as they stared at your watery ones, “Ai, stop. These things don't happen like that. I know I should be the last one to say this but..”

He cupped your cheeks, bringing your face closer, “Sex is not something to be rushed. If you had gone on with him then I know damn well he would have hurt you. That prick would have made you hate sex or any kind of intimacy.”

You stared into his eyes, heart throbbing because of the intensity in his eyes and the utter sincerity in his voice. It made you want to cry even more because—

“Why couldn't it be you? Gosh! I wish it was you. But it's not possible.” You were about to break into another fit of cry but his next words shocked you to core.

“Do you want me to be? You know……. I'll do anything if you tell me, Ai. Anything.” His thumb on your cheek rubbed back and forth, letting you know he was okay with any decision you make.

You wanted to believe that Sukuna uttered those words as a dear friend of you but the look in his eyes made it so hard to not see the obvious meaning behind his words.

“What?” Your voice barely escaped, a mix of disbelief and vulnerability. You tried to pull away, but Sukuna's hands held you firmly in place, his eyes unwavering.

“We can take things slow. Or you can take the lead. Do whatever you want, I won't say a word.” Words sprouted out of his mouth like an indomitable waterfall and it made him want to slam his head on the wall and black out if he could just stop his damn mouth.

Maybe it was the desperation that was increasing day by day, when he knew he would give you the world if you asked but it's not him that you chose. It was that lowlife jerk who only ever thought with his dick. Sukuna resented those days when you used to talk about him with stars in your eyes, completely oblivious to the turmoil in his heart. His heart ached like hell.

The words hung in the air, the tension between the two of you shifting. The world outside his apartment seemed to stop as you processed what he had just said. Your heart hammered in your chest, every inch of your body aware of how close you were to crossing a line that you had never considered before.

You swallowed hard, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, the weight of his presence making you feel more vulnerable than you ever had before. The reality of what he was suggesting didn’t quite settle in yet. Was he serious? Was he offering something you couldn’t even allow yourself to imagine?

“I’m not saying this to confuse you,” he continued, his voice low and steady. “But I don’t want you to think you’re alone in this. Not when I’m here, not when I can help you.”

The softness of his words mixed with the roughness of his usual demeanor was enough to make you pause. You had always known Sukuna as someone who didn’t easily show affection or care. But in this moment, as he wiped the last of your tears away, his face softened in a way you had never seen before.

Your heart fluttered, an unexplainable feeling swarming your chest. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the fact that the person who had always been there for you, who you trusted above all others, was now offering you something you couldn’t have imagined in your wildest dreams.

But then, the fear and uncertainty crept in again. You thought of Ryle, his words, his actions. You thought about the vulnerability you had felt tonight, how everything had gone wrong, and the weight of what had just happened still clung to you like a heavy burden. Could you trust anyone again? Could you trust Sukuna with something as important as this?

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice trembling once more. “This is all so much. I don’t even know what to think right now.”

Sukuna's face softened even more, and for a moment, he just held you in his arms, letting you feel the comfort of his presence. He didn’t push you. He didn’t rush you. He simply allowed you the space to breathe, to feel, to make the decision for yourself, without any pressure.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Sukuna said, his voice tender. “Take your time. Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what. You don’t owe anyone anything—least of all a bastard like Ryle. Not after what he did. It's only you who matters. Not Ryle. Not me. No-one else.”

His words hit you like a wave, washing over you with a strange sense of relief. It felt like you could finally breathe again. No longer trapped by someone else’s expectations, no longer bound by the need to please or perform for someone else’s desires.

“You’re safe here,” Sukuna added quietly. “Always.”

And like all the times, you believed him. The weight of the night and everything that had happened finally caught up with you. In Sukuna's arms, surrounded by the warmth of his presence, you felt a strange sense of peace that you hadn’t experienced in hours, maybe even longer. His heartbeat was steady against your ear, the rhythm soothing you like a lullaby. Your breathing slowed, and your body relaxed in a way that felt almost foreign, as if you hadn’t allowed yourself to truly rest for so long.

Sukuna didn’t move, didn’t try to disturb you. He simply held you, his strong arms wrapped around you protectively, grounding you in the moment. There were no expectations, no words needed. It was just the two of you, sharing the silence, the comfort of each other’s presence.

And then, without even realizing it, you drifted into sleep.

In his embrace, you felt safe. Safe from the world, safe from the turmoil and confusion that had plagued your mind. You felt as though, for once, the world had stopped spinning, and you could finally breathe without the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Sukuna’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, seeing the vulnerability and exhaustion in your face as you slept. He gently adjusted you in his arms, careful not to disturb you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though it was a rare and almost imperceptible expression. He didn’t need to say anything. He knew you needed this—peace, quiet, and the reassurance that, for now, you didn’t have to face everything on your own.

As the night wore on, Sukuna stayed by your side, watching over you. The world outside seemed distant, like it no longer mattered in the face of what was unfolding between the two of you. The only thing that mattered, in that moment, was that you were safe, that you were in his arms, and that he would protect you from whatever came next.

The events of the night could wait. Right now, it was just you and him, and for once, that was enough.

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