#just doesn't know what else to do about it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thatonegrimm · 2 days ago

Note

Bzzz 🐝 hey it's still me 🐝🐝 here's my second request 🐝🐝🐝

Okay so. Stupid idea I giggled about yesterday at 3am. Polysaja x reader, right? And reader is in a silly mood, coming up with names for this strange thing they got going on.

"Ah yes. Just me, myself, and my five lovers. My Herd of Husbands. My Pride of Partners. Make way for my Circle of concubines."

And it just doesn't stop. I have a few more but I think the most ridiculously fitting is the Congregation of Cucks. You're welcome.

Thank you for the request! Your ideas were so funny that i had to use them lol. Here you go!💌

🌙Saja Boys — The Naming of Boyfriends

-----------------

It started with a perfectly innocent couch sprawl and a few too many metaphors.

You were lying upside down on the couch, feet hooked over the back cushions, head dangling off the edge. Jinu had long since learned not to question your blood circulation decisions, but your words—your words still stopped him cold.

"Me and my Pride of Partners," you said wistfully, eyes unfocused like a noblewoman mourning a war long lost. “My Loyal Legion. My Brood.”

Jinu froze in place at the kitchen counter. “Your... your what?”

“My Brood,” you repeated with regal confidence, reaching dramatically toward the ceiling. “Because truly, what else could I call you five? We nest. We bond. You all look vaguely like you'd kill someone for me.”

Jinu blinked. “I—thank you?”

He tried to walk away, but you kept going.

“My Fellowship of Fiancés. My Bridal Battalion.”

“You haven’t even proposed to us,” he pointed out, grabbing a cup of tea like that might protect him.

“Minor detail,” you said, still upside down. “The vibe is there.”

-----------------

And somehow, the delusion only grew stronger when you migrated to the floor with Abby.

The both of you were cuddled under a blanket, your head on his thigh while he meticulously peeled an orange. The TV played in the background—something educational about wildlife.

You sat up suddenly. “Hey Abby.”

“Mmh?”

“If we were lions,” you said, eyes twinkling, “you’d totally be part of my pride.”

He paused mid-peel. “Like… ‘Pride’ pride? Of lions?”

You nodded. “Exactly. I’d be the head lioness. The rest of you are like, my hot mates who hang around and fight jackals for me.”

Abby tried very hard not to laugh. “So Jinu is a lion?”

“Jinu is a scruffy desert-dwelling scholar lion. Mystery’s the spooky one who just appears and disappears. Baby’s the young one trying to fight everything. Romance is the flashy, flirty lion who pretends not to care.”

“And me?”

“You’re the tank. You take down buffalo.”

Abby gave up and laughed, orange slice halfway to his mouth. “You’re so weird,” he said affectionately. “I love you.”

“I love my Pride,” you declared, arms wide. “My Fearsome Furries.”

“You’re banned.”

-----------------

Of course, things escalated further once you had a captive Mystery, who was lying on your lap while you braided his hair, half-dozing, catlike and quiet.

“Hey Mystery.”

A soft hum. That was his version of ‘yes?’

“I’ve decided I need a collective noun for all of you.”

Another pause.

“I’ve tried herd, flock, pack, squad. But none of them feel right, you know?”

He opened one eye.

You grinned. “How do you feel about… a Congregation of Cucks?”

He stared.

You beamed.

His gaze narrowed.

“I just think it’s funny,” you said, continuing to braid his hair like you hadn’t just detonated a verbal bomb. “Because none of you are cucks, obviously. Except maybe Romance when I flirt with the barista. But it’s the irony that sells it.”

Mystery slowly pulled your blanket over his face and vanished beneath it.

“Come on,” you cooed, tugging the edge. “Don’t hide. My Little Cuckling.”

A muffled grunt emerged.

You weren’t sure, but it might’ve been laughter.

-----------------

By the time you were in front of the mirror with Romance, the naming spree had developed a dangerous momentum.

He was in the middle of curling your hair when you peeked at him through the mirror.

“Hey,” you said sweetly. “Question.”

“Anything for you, darling.” He tilted your chin gently to reach a new section.

“What do you think of being part of my Reverse Harem?”

He blinked. “I… would say that feels fairly accurate.”

You snorted. “No hesitation?”

He gave you a knowing smile in the mirror. “Well. I’m beautiful, mysterious, loyal, and dramatic. All the qualifications are met. As long as I’m the favorite—”

“I was thinking you’re more like the comic relief,” you said with a straight face.

He stopped mid-curl. “Excuse me?”

“You know. Every Reverse Harem has the one guy who’s all charm but no rizz. That’s you.”

He dropped the curler.

“You wound me.”

“‘My Cluster of Clowns,’” you said dreamily, putting your hand over your heart. “Led by Romance, the Fool King.”

He looked betrayed. But he still kissed your cheek and kept curling.

-----------------

Baby, of course, only fueled the madness when he didn’t immediately shut it down.

You were both sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by snack wrappers.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, mouth full.

“Oh no,” Baby muttered.

“Me. Five guys. All vaguely obsessed with me. It’s basically a cult, right?”

He glanced up. “Are you saying you’re the cult leader?”

“Absolutely. I’d look amazing in a long robe. And you all already follow me around like you’re afraid I’ll die if left unattended.”

Baby grinned. “You would die. You ate expired pudding last week.”

“It was still jiggly!”

“That’s not a defense.”

You leaned in close, eyes wide with mock seriousness. “Tell me, Brother Baby… do you have faith in me?”

He stared. “I can’t believe you made me part of your personality-based boyfriend cult.”

“Congregation,” you corrected. “Of Cucks.”

He cackled, nearly snorting marshmallow out his nose.

You leaned back, satisfied. “My work here is done.”

-----------------

Later that night, you gathered them all in the living room and stood on the coffee table with a notepad.

“Ahem,” you began. “After much thought, I’ve narrowed it down to the top candidates for our official group title.”

Five demon boyfriends stared at you with varying levels of interest and dread.

You cleared your throat.

“A Pride of Partners.” “My Bridal Battalion.” “The Reverse Harem Dream Team.” “The Brood.” “The Fellowship of Fiancés.” “Circle of Concubines.” “Cluster of Clowns.” “Congregation of Cucks.” “Poly Pocket.” (you winked here)

There was a long silence.

Romance applauded you.

Abby held up a sign that just said “please stop.”

Jinu whispered to himself, “We need a PR team.”

Mystery vanished halfway through the list.

Baby was already making a banner that said Congregation of Cucks '25: One Braincell, Five Demons, Infinite Problems.

“Perfect,” you said brightly. “Unanimous vote. Welcome to the Congregation.”

-----------------

M-List

Taglist: @honey-and-sweetdreams @lyunsafebubble @reixtsu @ghostiiess @kpopmultistans @viktor-enjoyer @ash-creationz

#kpdh x reader #kpop demon hunters #saja boys x reader #jinu x reader #romance x reader #mystery x reader #abby x reader #baby x reader #kpdh #grimmstories

597 notes · View notes

aventurineswife · 3 days ago

Note

Good day/afternoon/ evening to you!! I see that your requests are open and I must say that every work of yours is SCRUMPTIOUS each time ❤️. Thank you for all the work you've done for us and please don't forget to rest from time to time!

For my request, what if yandere Aventurine, phainon, Sunday, and Dan heng (separate) got an affectionate darling? Presumably, the darling type that likes and doesn't get mad when they are given affection. Like the darling wants more of receiving affection. Also probably by that time, the darling is really close to them and aren't that scared anymore. That's all! Thanks very much!

Cradled in Obsession

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Yandere Men, Affectionate Darling, Established Relationship, Soft Possessiveness, Fluff with Dark Undertones, Obsessive Behavior, Emotional Dependency, Protective/Yandere Themes, Reader is Very Affectionate, Gentle Intimacy, Subtle Psychological Control, Delicate Power Dynamics, Devoted/Clingy Reader, Touch-Starved Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort (Implied).

Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Possessiveness, Obsessive Love, Psychological Manipulation, Emotional Dependency, Power Imbalance, Manipulative Affection, Soft Dark Themes, Subtle Isolation, Intense Devotion, Mild Codependency, Non-Violent Control, Clingy Dynamics, Touch-Starved Interactions.

A/N: thank you so much!! I'll try my best! 🥹💖

Dan Heng stood silently in the Archives, fingers resting on the bindings of old tomes, but his eyes were on you. Always you. No matter how far you wandered on the Express, he’d always feel it—the tether between you both, taut and invisible.

You interrupted his thoughts by appearing in the doorway, arms full of steaming tea and a soft smile that somehow felt like forgiveness for sins he never told you about.

“Dan Heng?” you asked gently. “You’ve been holed up all day.”

He hesitated. You were so warm, so soft, so trusting—it made something dark stir inside him. Something old. Something he buried with Cloud-Piercer in blood-soaked memory. But when you looked at him like that, like he wasn’t a monster, how could he not want to keep you forever?

“I... didn’t want to leave you unguarded,” he murmured. “There are still people who’d take you from me.”

You set the tea down and stepped into his space, fingers ghosting over his arm.

“I know. But you’re here now. And I’m safe when I’m with you.”

Dan Heng’s eyes lowered to your hand. You didn’t flinch from his touch. You never did anymore. His breath shook as he cupped your face.

“I don’t deserve this,” he whispered. “But I won’t let anyone else have it.”

Then he kissed you—deep, protective, desperate—like it would anchor him to the present and drown out the ghosts.

You only smiled afterward, tugging him closer.

“Then don’t let go.”

And Dan Heng didn’t. He wouldn't. Ever.

Phainon had always believed in duty. That the Heirs served Amphoreus, that sacrifice was noble, that love was a luxury warriors couldn’t afford.

Until you shattered that belief with your gentle touch.

He watched you laugh with Tribbie, sunlight catching in your hair. He should have kept his distance. He meant to. But when you had run to him after the siege, face smudged with ash, tears glistening but voice steady—“Phainon, I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”—he knew.

You were the one thing he couldn’t burn for the mission.

Now, you sat with your head in his lap, humming as he braided golden threads through your hair—just something he liked to do to remind himself you were his.

“You never flinch when I’m near,” he murmured.

“Why would I?” you asked, reaching up to hold his hand. “You’re warm. Safer than any armor.”

Phainon smiled softly, though his grip on your hand tightened. “If others knew what I’ve done to keep you near... would you still say that?”

You only tilted your head and kissed his palm.

“I already know.”

He stilled. “And yet you’re still here.”

“I’ll always be. Even if the whole world burns down around us.”

His heart swelled with something dangerous and beautiful.

“Then let it burn,” he said.

And in his arms, you felt the heat of both divine power and undying love.

Sunday had always been afraid of touch.

Not because it hurt, but because it healed too much.

When he let you into his room—bathed in the glow of floating sigils and soft ambient music—you didn’t ask questions. You simply walked to him, wrapped your arms around him, and let his halo hum in quiet rhythm.

“You’re warm tonight,” you murmured, fingers brushing the wing behind his ear. “Were you thinking of me again?”

He chuckled weakly. “Always. You’re the only thing I haven’t exiled from my dreams.”

You leaned in, eyes reflecting his own. “That’s good. Because I want to stay. Even in the parts you think are too broken.”

He closed his eyes, burying his face into your shoulder, wings fluttering softly.

“I’ve watched utopias collapse for the sake of mercy. Let people sleep forever rather than face pain. But you...” His voice trembled. “You make me want to stay awake.”

You kissed his forehead, fingertips curling over the white strap on his waist.

“I love all of you, Sunday. Even the pieces you think are too dangerous to share.”

His halo pulsed.

And he whispered, voice so quiet only your soul heard: “Then I’ll destroy anything that tries to take you from me.”

Your smile was serene. “I know.”

“You know,” Aventurine drawled, lying upside down on the couch with you lazily sprawled over his chest, “most people run when they figure out how deep my claws go.”

You giggled, finger tracing the curve of his spade cutout. “Lucky for you, I like dangerous things.”

A grin bloomed across his face, wide and wolfish. “Gods, you’re perfect.”

His hands, adorned with rings and sin, stroked your back possessively. “You’re not scared of me?”

“Why should I be? You’re soft with me.”

“I’m obsessed with you,” he corrected, voice dipping dangerously. “I have blackmail on half the IPC to keep them away. I’ve poisoned deals that dared try to involve your name.”

Your lips brushed against his collarbone. “And I love how far you’ll go to protect what’s yours.”

He froze.

No one had ever called him protection. Just a parasite, a gambler, a liar.

But you curled into him like he was sanctuary.

He cupped your face, eyes glinting with something manic and pure. “You’re mine, sweetheart. The house. The jackpot. The endgame.”

You kissed him hard, tugging his hair.

“Then bet on me.”

He laughed—giddy, dangerous, enamored.

“Oh darling. I already rigged the game in our favor.”

414 notes · View notes

concretechrysalis · 2 days ago

Text

This is so fucking true.

I'm a feminine cis woman. I've also been buzzing my hair *short* for approaching a decade. The world has *not* rewarded me for it.

I get asked what my husband thinks (read: does he still find me acceptably attractive), or if I "got his permission" before I did it. Because the hair growing out of my scalp is apparently some sort of natural resource that he's been tasked with regulating? And why are they so concerned about whether my husband finds me fuckable?

I get asked "what happened?" and "why do you cut your hair like that?" Which are code for "what kind of cancer do you have? Or did you snap and pull a Brittany?" That way they know whether they're going into the rest of the conversation ready to be either apologetic and pitying, or dismiss me as unreasonable or "crazy." Since those are the only possible two motivations for my hairstyle, according to a depressingly large number of people.

I'll get weirdly underhanded compliments sometimes like "you're still really pretty" or "I wouldn't have thought that would work, but it looks good on you" from new people after they've gotten to know me (and decided they don't hate me).

It's a rare thing, but I have gotten a handful of really, genuinely heartfelt compliments from other women (literally, it's never been a man) who genuinely think that my hair pretty and are complimenting me just like they'd compliment any other woman with hair they thought was pretty. Those warm my heart up because those are always so genuine and sweet.

In a similar vein, there have been a handful of women who have told me, conspiratorially, that they wish they could "get away with" doing the same thing with their hair. Their boyfriend wouldn't like it, or they're worried their head will be weirdly shaped or that they were going to look like a man, or their job wouldn't like it.

The topic of my hair comes up probably 25% of my face-to-face conversations with strangers in any context (work, while I'm grocery shopping, at restaurants, etc). Maybe that sounds kinda low to you, but that can be one or more times A DAY. And based on super scientific statistics from people I'm friendly enough with to talk about personal life stuff, it seems like another 50% of people want to ask me these questions but don't because it's impolite.

That's a massive amount of interactions where someone else is thinking about my hair, which is funny because one of my favorite things about my buzz cut is that it doesn't require me to spend a lot of time and energy maintaining. And yet, somehow there's a never-ending supply of people who want to spend more time thinking and talking about my hair than I do.

Society is so normal about gender.

"women get praised for masculinity!" women cant even have leg hair because its perceived as masculine (despite the fact all genders grow leg hair) so i genuinely dont know where this rancid ass take came from. have you met a woman. have you ever asked a woman about their experience with society in regards to presenting in perceived masculine ways. i dont think you have.

8K notes · View notes

luvsickyel · 2 days ago

Text

── ⟢ first place medal ‹𝟹

alternatively ⌗ list of moments over the years when caleb outshined every other guy in the equation, without even knowing.

caleb would do anything for you. why? because he’s utterly, blindly, disgustingly devoted to you, of course. well... that's the main reason. but there’s something else, he wants to stay one step ahead, no, five steps ahead of anyone else who dares try to win your heart.

you're 6 years old and smiling at the little boy who handed you half a dozen of squashed flowers he had just clumsily picked from the grass near the playground. "they're cute," you think. "but caleb made me a flower crown the other day."

you're 13 years old and a giggle slips your lips when your classmate kisses your cheek quickly. you were mostly laughing at your his red cheeks and not so much at the kiss, after all, caleb kisses your forehead everyday.

you're 15 years old when you simply type out a "thx :)" after a boy texted you about how good you looked earlier today. it's nice, but caleb has seen you crying, sick, sleeping, and still tells you daily how beautiful you are while looking into your eyes.

the 17 year old boy asked you what your favorite animal was, favorite color, favorite food, etc. you couldn't help but sigh, which was a bit rude, and it wasn't his fault, but now that caleb left for college you just have been... annoyed. for him, those questions would've been stupid, he has known the answers every since you were kids. nonetheless, caleb sends you pictures wearing fluffy ears that resemble the ones of your favorite animal, always uses the heart emoji in your favorite color and buys your favorite food to your house (since now he isn't there to cook it).

you're 20 years old and sitting quietly at a table with your friends while they discuss their love lives. one of them complains "he forgot our one year anniversary and didn't even apologize!", another sighs "he doesn't want to make it official!", everyone sitting around had something to say. you kept quiet, and they knew why. not because you didn't have a love life, they had heard about that heartthrob colonel who was THE standard, that hunk of a man you so casually had at your feet. you hear the atrocities the men your friends deem the love of their lives do and think "caleb would never do that."

you're 22 years old when you can't help but roll your eyes at the guy you were currently on a date with at a fast food restaurant, he didn't even open the door for you, spoke badly to his mom on the phone, and now he was suggesting going back to his place for some "netflix and chill"? ugh, caleb would've taken you flying on his plane just so you could see the stars up close while he teaches you about all the beautiful constellations that surround you.

in other words, caleb will keep winning your heart, over and over again, like it’s second nature. he's not trying to ruin your love life, it’s just that after you're so used to the way he treats you, no one else quite compares (maybe that's his plan all along).

bla bla bla ⌗ wrote this while listening to take my breath away, sigh i need this man.....

303 notes · View notes

bbokicidal · 20 hours ago

Text

One Kids Room | SKZ

Inspired by the new Two Kids Room they're dropping these days! If you guys want me to write that version where you have one-on-one conversations with the boys, let me know!

Genre : Fluff Pairing : OT8 x Reader Warnings : None. Just soft fluffy stuff. <33

If you don't know how One Kids Room works; One member sits out and is asked questions about himself and he gives answers. The other members are also asked similar questions about said member and give their opinions on him/his personality and tell stories regarding him. In this drabble, the whole group is talking about you.

Chris :

Chris is mostly quiet when the group talks about you because he likes to listen in to what the boys think towards you and your personality - but there are a few things he can't help but chime in on.

He reminisces about a time you had stayed in the studio late because you refused to go back home without him - How you had fallen asleep on the couch hugging their Spotify pillow and hadn't been cranky when he woke you up after finishing work.

He talks about times he's seen you help the other guys with something, anything; When you styled Changbin's hair because he didn't like how short it was or when you fixed Seungmin's breakfast disaster so the food was still somewhat edible.

And of course he talks about the night walks the two of you take together, how much he loves taking aesthetic pictures of/with you and how he adores how you're so much like him.

Minho :

Minho's usually pretty quiet during these types of.. videos, interviews, whatever. But talking about you is a new hobby for him and he's going to enjoy doing just that.

He talks a lot about you, to be honest.

He talks about times you've inspired him - When you've cheered him on and told him not to give up when he gets frustrated at choreography he can't pick up quick enough.

He mentions how you had gotten up extra early one morning to spend time with him - Gotten him a coffee on your way to the practice room just to watch him dance and practice a few tricks to throw in there when he had time to improv during the song. He also mentions how that day, he realized you genuinely cared for him and wanted to see him be the best version of himself. How you would always be there to support him even if it meant getting up at dreadful hours of the morning.

Changbin :

Oh how easy it is for Changbin to absolutely ramble about you.

Except he's bringing up the most GOD AWFUL fucking stories about you and exposing your dumb ass.

He talks about how once you had gone to the convenience store for him because he had texted saying he wanted food. It was late hours and in your sleepy state, you brought him a packet of ramen and even made it for him - but when it was a kind he didn't like you decided to eat it so it wouldn't go to waste. Aaand then you spent two hours in the bathroom after absolutely blowing up the toilet.

The video ends with a clip of Hyunjin exposing Changbin for telling the story, to which you yell out at him and grab a pillow from the couch to smother him with it while he laughs. The cut is the best part, Changbin's chair falling back on the floor as everyone yells in laughter.

Hyunjin :

Hyunjin's surprisingly quiet for your One Kids Room episode.

Actually, what he's doing is sitting back and listening to what everyone else has to say - and then reflecting on it all based on what he knows about you personally.

He feels so deeply about you that when he does speak up, it's a little hard to describe you the way he wants to because he feels like he doesn't have the right vocabulary to do that. You're just so ethereal and.. you're something truly special in his eyes.

The others comment to help him out, saying that he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky and that he's absolutely smitten for you.

They tease that you're the one person who can boss him around and he'll immediately listen; That you have him wrapped around your finger and that they're all pretty sure you're both married to each other by now without telling them.

Not that he'd really complain if y'all got married.

Jisung :

Jisung has SO MUCH to say about you and yet it's so fucking little at the same time lol.

He rambles about how you stay with him in the studio all the time and you're nosy cause you constantly wanna hear new tracks,

How you always offer to be his pillow if he needs to nap in dressing rooms - and how he does the same for you in return,

How you're always up for late night snack runs and going to the oddest places to get pictures. You're just always open to exploring the city with him. (AKA getting lost but he won't admit that.)

By the end of the video it's pretty clear he really really cherishes you, and, like... all the times you've choked down ramen w/ him at 2 am.

Felix :

Felix loves to talk about you, but he's a little quiet this time around because he's in his head thinking about you instead of verbalizing it.

He's thinking about the times you've looked up at him with glittering eyes and the times you've been so close to each other without even knowing it.

The times you've come into his room just because you can and laid in bed with him to watch tiktoks on his phone and dumb videos about SCP monsters.

And the times you've sat with him while he's played games, both booing at him when he loses a match and cheering him on when he wins.

You lowkey dog on him sometimes for his gaming abilities but he still loves you regardless. You're always going to be his biggest supporter and he's always going to care about you more than anything.

Maybe a little too much..

Seungmin :

Seungmin chirps out words when he needs to, but other than that he's sort of quiet -

And oddly enough, everything he says about you is so.. intimate.

He doesn't bring up moments where you cook together or go out for walks together and chit chat, but rather

He talks about the moments where you helped wipe smokey makeup from under his eyes to clean him up a little backstage.

He talks about the way you lace your shoes differently than he does, and that when you walk you have a little pip in your step that makes your hair bounce against your shoulders..

Jeongin's literally side eyeing him the entire time because he is very blatantly giving away his crush on you without realizing it. But it's cute!

Jeongin :

Boy is BABBLING about you the entire video!!

He's talking about times you've stolen his skincare because you didn't bring your own when sleeping over and times you've walked in on him showering because you were too busy ogling a pretty guy on tiktok to even notice he was in there -

Talking about how one time you fell asleep on him and everyone was taking pictures because Jeongin is basically allergic to skinship and never allows it - but let it happen just because it was you.

The others still have pictures on their phones and end up revealing them to the cameras.

He's a little embarrassed that it's sort of out there now that he's a softie for you but... it's you, so it's okay. <3

Thanks for reading!

#skz x reader #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #felix x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids scenario

339 notes · View notes

angstama · 1 day ago

Text

10 ; spaces between us | l.jn

pairing: dad!lee jeno x f!reader (ft. na jaemin)

genre: angst, slight fluff, co-parenting

synopsis — three years after divorcing jeno, you've found a careful rhythm in co-parenting your son jun. the old fights about his work schedule and emotional distance have faded into polite exchanges and shared custody arrangements. but when small moments of connection start to feel like second chances, you begin to hope that maybe you could try again. though, it all falls apart when jeno asks to introduce jun to his new girlfriend. suddenly, you're forced to confront a devastating truth: the man who claimed he "wasn't good at relationships" during your marriage has apparently learned how to love properly—he just needed someone else to do it with.

a/n: hey loveliessss~ i'm so sorry chapter 10 took awhile :") turns out i've developed this thing called allergy rhinitis which honestly made me feel really sluggish throughout the day. i was also really busy and was going through a major heartbreak *laughs* (it's okay everything is fine now...) but alas, chapter 10!!!!! thank you so much for the patience :"))) my inbox is also flooded with a lot of asks, i promise i'm getting to them as fast as i can (i only get to do this at night after a long dayyy so please give me some time ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)⁭ ⁭

sbu m.list | previous | next chapter

jeno doesn't know what's more nerve-wracking.

the fact that you were still ignoring his texts—his calls, his hesitant attempts to reach out and ask how you were doing… or the fact that he’s currently sitting stiffly across from soomin’s parents, in a dining room far too silent for comfort.

the table was lavishly set, polished cutlery, sparkling glasses, and dishes that looked too pristine to touch. and yet, no one had touched a thing. the air hung heavy, like something unsaid was resting on everyone’s shoulders. jeno shifted in his seat, forcing a polite smile as he glanced between mr. and mrs. han—both of whom wore expressions far too difficult to read.

he could feel a bead of sweat start to form near his temple. soomin sat beside him, posture perfect, as if she wasn’t feeling the pressure that was currently crushing his chest. her fingers occasionally brushed against his under the table, a silent attempt to offer comfort—but even that felt foreign. detached. like something rehearsed.

he tried to breathe normally, but all he could think about was the silence. and you.

you, who once held his hand under the table and made sarcastic comments that made him choke on his water.

you, who would’ve made a face at how fancy the salad looked and asked for rice instead.

you, who he hadn’t heard from in days and unsure if you'll even let him see jun when tomorrow — saturday, rolls over.

"please, jeno, don't stand on ceremony. help yourself." mr. han's voice was smooth, almost warm—but the underlying edge in his tone was impossible to miss. he gestured toward the piece of hanwoo steak resting on jeno's plate, glistening under the dining room’s gold-tinged lights, almost like it was watching him too. "let’s dig in," he added, finally lifting his utensils.

mrs. han said nothing, her movements silent and methodical as she sliced into her own portion. soomin followed suit, equally quiet, her face unreadable. the only sound that filled the room was the soft clinking of silverware against fine porcelain.

jeno picked up his utensils mechanically, carving a piece of steak without really seeing it. it could’ve been rubber, for all he knew. everything felt muted, like he was underwater—except the pressure in his chest. that felt sharp. heavy. inescapable.

“so,” mr. han started again, his tone deceptively casual, “how did the check-up on our grandbaby go today?”

jeno froze for a fraction of a second. but the question hadn’t been directed at him. soomin dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin before replying. “baby’s healthy, appa. doctor said just try not to overexert or stress myself out, that’s all.”

"good," mr. han nodded, finally glancing up—but not at his daughter. his eyes landed on jeno like a quiet dare. "stress is no good. especially now." jeno nodded stiffly, trying not to choke on the bite he hadn’t even swallowed yet.

mr. han didn’t stop. “and how’s the ongoing case looking?”

suddenly, the air tightened. soomin paused mid-cut, her gaze flicking to jeno but his eyes didn't lift from his plate. not even when he felt her silently urging him to say something. “we’re doing all we can,” she said instead, her voice cool, measured.

jeno hated the way the words sat between them, like a brick on the table. they were both trying to sound confident, but he knew mr. han could smell blood in the water. he stabbed another piece of steak and forced it into his mouth, chewing slowly as the tension buzzed in his skull.

“hm, i heard your ex-wife is the primary legal counsel on the case, jeno.” mr. han’s tone was smooth, but the look he gave jeno was anything but casual. “i’m sure you know what to do?” the question sliced through the room like a blade.

jeno froze—mid-cut, fork and knife suspended in air. it was as if he’d been caught red-handed, like a boy caught sneaking out of class. mrs. han finally looked up from her plate, her sharp eyes locking on him. the air shifted. suddenly, all eyes were on jeno.

soomin’s brows furrowed slightly, turning toward him. she didn’t say a word, but her silence said everything.

she was waiting for him. expecting him to back her. expecting him to stand on the same side.

jeno swallowed hard.

“ah…” he began, slowly setting down his utensils. his voice came out low, careful. “i’m not sure if there’s… anything i can do.” the words felt flimsy the moment they left his mouth. even he didn’t believe them.

mr. han’s brows furrowed, his jaw tightening as he set down his wine glass with a soft clink. “what do you mean you’re not sure there’s anything you can do?” his voice was firmer now, displeasure bleeding into every syllable. “tell her to drop the case.”

jeno looked up finally, meeting mr. han’s gaze for the first time tonight. it was like looking into the eyes of someone who’d already decided how the game would end—and was simply waiting for you to fall in line.

“it’s not that simple,” jeno said, quieter than he meant to. he glanced at soomin, whose face was hard to read now. “she’s doing her job. the same way we are.”

“jeno,” mr. han’s tone dipped. “we’re talking about your family here. your child. your future. and you’re telling me you can’t convince your ex-wife to let go of something that’s clearly a waste of time?”

jeno clenched his jaw. because deep down, he knew it wasn’t a waste of time. not to you. he looked back at his plate. but the hanwoo had gone cold. and so had the room.

“she’s also the mother of my firstborn, sir…” jeno’s voice was measured, but the tension in his posture gave him away—his shoulders drawn, jaw tightening as if the weight of jun’s name alone pulled something inside of him taut.

at the mention of your son, mr. han scoffed, shaking his head as he set his utensils down with a quiet clink.

“and you’re marrying my only daughter,” he said, voice laced with irritation. “she’s carrying your child. seriously—what are you trying to get at, jeno? pay your ex-wife a ransom and i’m sure everything will be solved.” he huffed, like it was the most obvious solution in the world.

jeno stilled. the comment burned—crude, dismissive, reducing you and jun to little more than obstacles. and though his expression barely shifted, his hand slowly curled into a fist beneath the table.

“with all due respect, sir,” jeno began, his voice clipped but calm, “i love your daughter. and i’m committed to building a life with her. but this case—it’s not about personal grudges. it’s bigger than that. y/n’s not going to drop it just because i asked her to.”

mr. han narrowed his eyes. “and why not?” he challenged.

jeno exhaled slowly, trying to keep his frustration in check. “because there are people relying on her. victims who were silenced, workers who lost their livelihoods—she’s their voice in court. asking her to walk away from that... it’s not just selfish, it’s wrong.”

silence.

jeno glanced at soomin, but she didn’t look at him. her face was unreadable, her lips slightly pursed as her thumb grazed her stomach—an unconscious movement he noticed instantly. mrs. han cleared her throat softly, but didn’t speak.

“you think we’re guilty?”

jeno didn’t answer immediately. his throat tightened, every instinct screaming at him to tread carefully. but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to lie. not here. not about this.

“appa,” soomin’s voice came soft but firm, trying to de-escalate the tension. “please.”

but mr. han wasn’t having it.

he leaned forward slightly, knuckles pressed against the edge of the table. “if you want this baby… if you so much as wish to marry my daughter—get it sorted,” he hissed, spitting the words like venom. “or forget it.”

and with that, he stood, tossing the cloth napkin onto the plate with finality. the sound echoed.

mrs. han stood as well, rushing to his side with a soft gasp, her fingers wrapping gently around his arm to calm him as he stormed out of the room.

the door shut behind them with a dull thud.

the silence that followed was deafening.

jeno sat frozen, his hands clenched tightly on his lap, eyes fixed on the now-empty seat across from him.

on the other side of the city, far from the glittering halls and polished speeches of the gala, the night felt different—softened by laughter, laced with something gentle.

jaemin held your hand in his, fingers loosely intertwined as he guided you down the quiet street. his suit jacket draped over your shoulders like a makeshift blanket, its sleeves brushing your thighs. you shuffled beside him in his sneakers—slightly too big, your heels long since abandoned to his other hand.

"where are you taking me, mr. na jaemin?" you giggled, slightly breathless from trying to keep pace with him.

he turned just enough to flash you that boyish smile, the one that made your stomach flutter. “you’ll see,” he said, tugging you closer to his side when you wandered a little too far towards the road. “it’s a surprise.”

the walk ended at a small taco stand parked beside the han river—humble, glowing in warm yellow lights strung across its canopy. the sound of soft sizzling came from the grill, blending into the hum of city life. in the distance, the skyline shimmered, reflecting off the gentle ripples of the water.

jaemin ordered for the both of you—pulled beef for himself, fish tacos for you. you didn’t even remember telling him that was your favorite. he remembered anyway.

the two of you made your way down to the stone steps by the river, where the city felt like a soft lullaby. the breeze was cool, tugging lightly at your hair. jaemin placed the food down with care, pouring the diet coke into two flimsy plastic cups provided by the store owner at the stand.

"this is what we're having for our first date?" you teased, opening your taco wrapper as you peeked at him through the fringe of your lashes.

jaemin gave an exaggerated gasp. “you like tacos, don’t you?” he grinned, nudging your arm playfully. “besides, nothing else is open around here. unless you wanna go to a convenience store and eat triangle kimbap by the gas pump.”

the buzz of the wine was fading now, and for the first time that night, you really looked at him. really saw him. his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the fine edges of his dress shirt relaxed, collar unbuttoned. the same suit jacket now hung loosely around your shoulders. he looked... comfortable. like this version of him had been waiting quietly behind all those gala smiles and polished introductions.

the conversation had long wandered past small talk. somehow, you’d covered everything from favorite ramen brands to dream vacations to your most embarrassing high school moments—like the universe was letting you press unpause on a connection that had always been just slightly out of reach.

“wait,” you laughed, nudging your shoulder into his playfully, “so you’re telling me you’ve always liked me?”

jaemin chuckled, mid-bite of his taco. “i mean… well… now that you’re not with jeno, i suppose i can finally say yes.”

you raised a brow, amused. “wow. that long, huh?”

“back then, you and jeno were basically conjoined,” he teased, gesturing vaguely with his taco. “and honestly, he used to give me the nastiest glare whenever i came within a five-meter radius.”

you snorted. “yeah, he really doesn’t like you, jaem.”

“understandable,” he said smugly. “most men tend to feel threatened when i’m around their girlfriends.” you rolled your eyes, laughing, when he suddenly leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “but, you know,” he said more gently now, “i left you something on graduation day.”

you blinked. “huh?”

“a little box. cheesecake crumbs. tucked it into your tote bag.”

your eyes widened as the memory clicked—the small container, the little short note and the golden crust pieces nestled inside. back then, you assumed your mom packed it. you'd eaten every bite, weirdly touched by the gesture without knowing where it came from.

"everybody say cheese!" your mother waved, her voice bright and lilting, the lens of her camera trained on the group. you beamed too, tilting your face toward jeno as he wrapped a secure arm around your waist. you kissed his cheek, and he grinned, fingers gently tipping the edge of your graduation cap like it was a crown.

the air smelled like fresh blooms and summer heat. laughter filled the courtyard—students in flowing gowns, proud parents, and friends squeezing in last-minute photos before scattering into the world.

not far from you stood jaemin, a quiet observer at the edge of the crowd.

he wasn’t wearing a cap and gown that day. he had finished his credits early, quietly, never quite one for the spotlight. but he came anyway, hovering by the sidelines, hands shoved in his pockets, a crooked smile tugging his lips as he watched the scene.

your scene.

you and jeno, glowing, surrounded by friends. chen le’s arm thrown around mark’s shoulder as the four of you posed together—jeno’s hand never once leaving your waist.

it would’ve been easy to walk away. but instead, jaemin lingered, the corners of his smile faltering just slightly.

in his hand, he held a small box—carefully taped, a note scrawled on the top that read: “for the biscuit girl.”

inside were homemade cheesecake biscuit crumbs. the night before, he had stayed up past midnight, trying to get the texture just right. he had remembered—months ago, maybe even a year—overhearing you complain to jeno about how the cheesecake was always in the way of the best part: the base.

“honestly, they should just sell the crumbs,” you’d joked.

he’d never forgotten.

he watched for a moment longer, then, with a quiet sigh, turned to leave. before he could, he spotted your famous brown tote bag sitting beside a tree near your mom’s foldable chair. taking a quick glance around, he made his way over and, without a sound, slipped the box inside.

then he left.

he never expected you to know it was him.

your mouth dropped open in disbelief. “wait—that was you? i thought my mom packed that as a surprise!”

jaemin looked ridiculously pleased with himself, sipping from the straw of his now-watery soda. “well, technically it was a surprise.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “they were really good. i thought about them for weeks.”

“i spent three hours baking just to get that perfect crunch,” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “but alas, the girl of my dreams was busy kissing her boyfriend in front of my face.”

you burst into laughter, nudging him again—gentler this time. “stop. i’m the girl of your dreams?”

his hand fell from his chest, and the smirk on his lips softened into something more sincere. he nodded once, slowly, as his eyes found yours—unwavering, open, vulnerable. “you are.”

you blinked, your laughter fading as the weight of his words settled between you. he looked down at your lips for a moment, then back to your eyes, his voice quieter now, stripped of bravado. “i’m not good with emotions and all that,” he admitted, his fingers rubbing absently at the hem of his sleeve. “but when i ran into you again at the supermarket… i don’t know, it felt like a second chance. like the big guy up there decided to throw me a bone.”

he glanced up at the night sky for a moment, the stars too faint to see against the city glow. when he looked back at you, he was serious. “i’m not gonna ask you to be mine. not yet. because i know your heart… a part of it still belongs to jeno. and i respect that.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but he gently shook his head and continued.

“but i’ll be here. i’ll keep showing up. i’ll be honest with my feelings, even when it’s scary. because for once, i don’t want to run from something real.”

his words struck something deep inside you. the sincerity. the tenderness. the quiet bravery of it all. and suddenly, it was hard to breathe.

the space between you was barely anything now. his thigh brushed against yours. his breath warm and steady in the cool night air. your eyes lingered on his—hopeful, terrified, and entirely certain all at once.

“kiss me,” you whispered, your voice barely a thread, your gaze flickering to his lips.

he blinked. “what?”

you smiled softly. “i said kiss me.”

you leaned in just the slightest bit, and that was all it took. jaemin reached for the back of your head with one hand, the other curling gently around your jaw, and pulled you toward him. his lips crashed into yours—not rough, not rushed, but full of something he’d been holding in for years.

it was warm. it was steady. it was real.

and in that moment, the world didn’t feel so heavy. not with his hand in your hair, and yours tangled in his shirt, and the han river glistening behind you like a silent witness to a beginning long overdue.

you woke up to the soft golden light of morning spilling through your curtains, a quiet stillness hanging in the air. the first thing you felt was warmth—real, grounded warmth. as your eyes fluttered open, you realized jun was nestled tightly between you and jaemin, his tiny arms wrapped possessively around jaemin’s arm like a teddy bear.

you let out a soft sigh, the kind that slipped out without permission—a breath of relief, a quiet exhale of contentment. you didn’t even remember when jun had crawled into bed last night. maybe sometime after you and jaemin had fallen asleep talking, voices hushed in the dark. but the sight before you now—jun’s peaceful face pressed into jaemin’s side, and jaemin’s arm curled instinctively around him—was more than enough to soften your heart.

gently, you peeled the blanket off and sat up, careful not to wake either of them. you stretched, arms overhead, your body still warm from sleep and softness.

“where are you going?” came jaemin’s low, raspy voice, his words heavy with sleep. he shifted a little, eyes barely open.

you immediately raised your hand, index finger pressed to your lips before pointing at jun. “shh,” you whispered, gesturing to the boy still fast asleep beside him.

jaemin followed your hand with his eyes and mouthed an exaggerated “oh,” giving a tiny nod as he relaxed back into the mattress, careful not to jostle jun.

“just getting some water. i’ll be back,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss jun lightly on the forehead and offering jaemin a soft smile.

he nodded again, watching you with sleep-drenched eyes and the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. one hand peeked out from the blanket, waving at you lazily as you padded quietly toward the kitchen.

you were just about to bring the glass of warm water to your lips when a soft knock echoed through the apartment. you froze. maybe it was the pipes. or the wind. you waited, standing still in the quiet kitchen, heart slowing—until it came again. this time louder. more deliberate.

you turned slowly towards the front door, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall.

7:00am.

it too early for a delivery. too early for anyone to be visiting.

you set your glass down with a soft clink against the countertop and moved towards the door, barefoot against the cold floor, the morning silence wrapping around you like a warning.

as you reached the door, you hesitated for a second before peeking through the peephole. your heart dropped instantly when you saw who was standing on the other side of the door.

jeno.

he stood with his head bowed slightly, eyes fixed on the welcome mat like it held all the answers he didn’t have. his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his denim, the soft rise and fall of his chest visible even from your side of the door. he wasn’t fidgeting or pacing—he was just… waiting.

your hand hovered over the doorknob, frozen.

you hadn’t seen him in days, maybe even weeks. not since that the day you left his place.

and now he was here, unannounced. at seven in the morning.

your heart pounded hard against your chest as questions flooded your mind. why now? why here? what does he want?

you hesitated.

your hands trembled lightly on the knob.

you could turn around, pretend you weren’t home, pretend you didn’t see him—but you knew he knew. your car was in the driveway. the porch light was still on. you were awake. you were always awake at this hour.

so you took a breath. and then another. and slowly, with a soft click of the lock, you opened the door.

the cold morning air slipped between the crack before the full weight of jeno’s presence did.

he looked up the moment he heard the door creak open, and for a second—just one fleeting second—you swore you saw his shoulders relax.

his eyes met yours.

"y/n," his eyes widened, voice low, rough around the edges. like he'd been up all night. "i wasn't sure if you were gonna open the door."

you stood in the doorway, expression unreadable, the early sun casting a golden outline around you.

“what are you doing here, jeno?” you asked quietly.

“can we talk?” jeno’s voice was low, tentative. he took a small step forward—reflexively, you stepped back.

as if he might hurt you.

that tiny movement was enough to make him freeze, guilt flashing across his face. he quickly stepped back again, like he understood.

“please,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now. “i’m not here to fight. i just… i just need you to hear me out.” you shut your eyes tightly, fingers pressing into your temples as a frustrated sigh tore through your chest.

why can’t you just have peace? the ache in your chest returned, sharp and familiar.

the betrayal of finding out soomin's pregnant. the weight of everything jeno had broken inside you, still shattering in new ways.

yet, despite it all…

you still wanted to hear him out.

you still wanted to give him that chance.

foolish.

foolish you.

foolish y/n.

“we can talk,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself like a shield. “but not here. outside.”

you sat on the steps together, silence stretched thick between you. the roads still empty, morning barely arrived, but the air already felt too heavy to breathe.

five minutes passed before either of you spoke.

“i’m sorry,” jeno said, finally breaking the silence. his fingers were fumbling over each other, nervously twisting the hem of his sleeve. he couldn't look at you.

“i wanted to tell you about the pregnancy,” he continued, voice barely audible. “but… things hadn’t been great between us. and i didn’t know how to bring it up. there was never a good time.”

you let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “never a good time? jeno, there were plenty of times. you just didn’t have the courage.”

he flinched at your words.

you hated how true they were. and you hated even more how much it hurt to say them.

jeno—who once knew every version of you. who memorised every sleeping pattern you had and knew what that meant, jeno, who traced constellations on your back, jeno, who kissed your dreams into your skin—felt like a stranger now.

a cowardly stranger with a child on the way.

and somehow, part of you still mourned him.

“be honest with me, jeno,” you said, your voice low and worn thin. “how far along is she?”

you didn’t want the answer. your heart was already bracing for the blow. but you needed to know—had to know—when it would happen.

when would he finally let go of the invisible string that still tied him to you? when would he stop pretending like he still belonged in the life you built with jun? when would he start truly becoming someone else’s?

jeno hesitated, his lips parting, then pressing together again. he lowered his gaze, and for a moment, you swore he almost didn’t say it.

but then—quietly, like a confession— “…three months.”

your world shifted.

three months.

the air left your lungs. your heart dropped straight to your stomach. the math came rushing in before you could stop it—three months ago, he was still at your place, laughing on the couch, cooking breakfast, falling asleep next to jun like it was the most natural thing in the world.

three months ago, you were still hoping.

still holding on.

still pretending your little family could somehow fix itself.

and all that time, he already knew. he already made his choice.

your stomach turned, a sour ache building in your throat.

god, it hurt.

please god, your heart cried. take it back. make it stop. let me un-know it.

but there was no going back now.

“three months,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you let out a bitter laugh. “so what then? if things never got better between us, were you just gonna wait until she gives birth to tell me?”

you looked at him with storm in your eyes.

he was shrinking in front of you.

and it only made you angrier.

“or maybe when your other kid graduates college? when you're walking them down the aisle? what, jeno? when were you going to tell me?”

jeno said nothing.

his silence screamed.

he couldn’t meet your eyes—because if he did, he’d have to see what he’d done.

he’d have to see the damage.

he’d have to witness the ruin of the woman who once trusted him with everything.

you stared at him, jaw clenched, fury and heartbreak mixing in your chest like poison.

and all he could do was sit there, quiet and small, in the storm he created.

jeno’s voice cracked as he whispered again, “i’m sorry.”

but his words felt hollow, empty against the storm raging inside you.

“don’t you dare tell me sorry,” you snapped, the venom cutting through the air. “tell jun you’re sorry. tell him you’re sorry for being such a shitty father.”

your voice trembled, but you didn’t stop. “you know what? why even bother having another kid if you can’t even finish this one? were you that eager to start another family so quickly? is that how much you hate me? so much that you’re willing to build a whole new family with someone else?”

the anger surged in you, a fiery mix of betrayal and grief. but beneath it all, the pain—raw, jagged, unbearable.

you hated this feeling. hated how it swallowed your chest whole.

“i can take anything you throw at me,” you admitted through clenched teeth, your voice breaking. “but jun? fuck, jeno...” a sob ripped from deep within your soul as you crumpled, tears spilling freely now, raw and unfiltered.

“jun... he shouldn’t have to wonder about his worth. shouldn’t have to question why his own dad can be there, fully, for another child but not for him.” your voice cracked, desperate and aching. “he doesn’t deserve that. god, jeno...” you cried, your heart bleeding open in front of him, vulnerable and shattered.

“and i told you before—we’re not ready,” you said, voice raw and trembling, desperation creeping in as you fought to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. “but for you, jeno...” your hands shook as they pressed against your face, trying to hold yourself together. “for you, i was willing to go through the pain of childbirth, even though i was so fucking scared.”

you swallowed hard, your breath hitching as you pressed on, voice thick with emotion. “for you, i gave up my dreams. i never said it out loud before, but i’m not angry about it—because jun was also the best thing that ever happened to me.” your chest heaved with a shaky breath. “but i want you to sit with that. i want you to realise how much i sacrificed. how much i gave up for you—because i fucking loved you. and you... you broke me.”

your body trembled uncontrollably, the weight of everything crashing down on you. “you fucking left me like none of it ever mattered.”

“you wrecked everything,” you said, voice sharp and trembling with hurt, your eyes burning as you locked onto his. “all our plans—everything we dreamed of, everything we hoped for. and i had to pick up the pieces and put it all back together by myself.” your chest tightened, words pouring out like a bitter flood. “i just wanted you to show up. just once. you just had to fucking show up. and you couldn’t even do that.”

jeno didn’t flinch. he didn’t look away or try to soften your words. instead, he stood still, swallowing the weight of your rage like a punishment he fully deserved. his shoulders slumped slightly, as if the burden of your disappointment physically pressed down on him. his eyes glistened, raw and heavy with guilt, but he made no excuse.

he whispered, voice barely audible, “you’re right.”

the silence that followed was thick with everything left unsaid—regret, anger, and the vast gulf that had opened between you.

jeno’s mind reeled, the painful truth settling deep inside him: he had broken something vital in you, something he feared could never heal. he hated himself for it. worse, he knew what he was about to ask next would be unbearable—to ask you to drop the case against soomin, to ask for peace where there was none.

his voice cracked as he finally spoke, each word fragile. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness. but... i had no choice and i'm worried if i don't ask, they're going to do something.”

“can you consider dropping the case against jewel corporation.”

and that was the final blow.

you stared at him, disbelief and pain swirling fiercely in your eyes. the weight of his words felt like a knife twisting deeper inside your chest. in the midst of your argument, pouring your heart out about the destruction he’d caused in your life, jeno decided to ask you to do the one thing he knew you'd never do.

and that snapped something in you.

“i’m done.” you shook your head, disbelief and hurt thick in your voice. “i don’t deserve this. i really do not deserve this.” you raised your hand in surrender, as if warding him off.

“i’m not going to drop the case against your girlfriend. not because i’m jealous of her but because there are real people out there who are suffering because of them.” your finger jabbed accusingly, the anger clear and sharp. “but i can’t believe you’re asking me this. you are fucking crazy jeno.” you screamed at him, voice cracking with fury and heartbreak.

“and i’m so angry.” you pointed to yourself, frustration clear as day. “no screw that, i’m not angry. i'm in pain. and you put me here.” you paused, hands balled into fists, trembling with emotion. “the person who’s supposed to love me more than anything.”

“i’m in pain that there’s someone in there who makes jun so fucking happy. i’m in pain that someone in there is willing to love me yet here i am, heart still bleeding for you who clearly doesn’t even treat me like a fucking human being anymore.” you pointed towards the house where jaemin and jun slept soundly under your roof.

it was too much to bear. your chest tightened, breath catching as the weight of your emotions overflowed.

and without another word, you got up and left.

because enough was enough.

// to be continued

taglist: @chaoticstrawberryland @bbykaixx @strawberrytyong @desiree-lee @mybearcollective @dilflover44 @kangshinwoolovin @kgneptun @firydst @httpsxnox @justineasian @sunflowerhae @huangberryyy @stelleduarte @luvleenono @ccoristu @gomdoleemyson @tinted-skies @dior-15 @socollectionmoom @blackberrywonie @dinonuguaegi @merakicafee @jenzyoit @haechsauce @lorena-mv33 @taeeflwrr@chocojiji @markleesleftpinky @carelessshootanonymous @l3l3luvs @gigikapptor @notmastyle @seesinblur @myrainbowgelpen @morklee02 @markiesfatbooty

303 notes · View notes

duckielover151 · 6 hours ago

Text

I know the tone of the overall post veered into something else, but I think the second post makes a great point. US-centric teachings are usually just viewed in an egotistical light.

It is so, so worth looking into the perspective that we're kept self-centered and in the dark on purpose. Because the government doesn't want us to know what we could have.

The UK has had universal healthcare since at least the 1950s.

I am living in a country where people regularly put off getting medical treatment because they can't afford it. Many of them have insurance and still can't afford it. Diabetics are forced to ration out their supply of insulin. Seriously wounded people take the chance of driving themselves to the nearest hospital because the ambulance ride alone can put you thousands of dollars into debt. Never mind what they're gonna charge for the hospital stay after the fact.

This isn't a hypothetical. This is everyday life for most of us. (In the past few months, I've had my own eye exam and dental visits for the first time in literally more than 10 years. I finally have insurance now, and it only covered about half of it. Honestly, I'm regretting doing it all at once. Like, maybe the eye exam and new glasses could have waited until next year. Some of the dental work they want to do is definitely going to have to wait until I can pay down the debt a little...)

And yet I grew up being told how lucky I was to be born in this country. The older I get, the more desperate the propaganda seems.

And you can go off about how it's the individual's responsibility to better their perspective and understanding of the world... But let's not pretend it wouldn't make a huge difference if the foundation for that broader worldview was established through the education system in childhood.

"you don't get it, the usa is a fascist country full of government propaganda, and our rights as women and queer people are constantly attacked!! you have no idea what that's like!!" i'm hungarian 👍

#politics #united states

28K notes · View notes

fishnapple · 1 day ago

Text

When you're the most attractive in their eyes

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

RED JASPER

When you're trying out something new, when you try to challenge yourself by doing something you've never done before. When you try to do something for them even when you feel uncomfortable or unsure of yourself when doing it. They appreciate these kinds of instances greatly. It shows your willingness to challenge yourself and also how much they mean to you, so much that you're willing to do something you don't usually do. They love how much you give in the relationship, how much effort you pour into it to make it work. They love the care you give them and the relationship itself.

When you appear more aggressive and decisive, even showing your anger. You usually appear restrained to them so when that restraint loosen up and you let out a more passionate side, it takes them by surprise and tickles their imagination.

When you're silent but then suddenly bursts out laughing or pouring out a torrent of ideas to them. Or anytime when you're being still and quiet then suddenly change your mood and become more animated. It's endearing to them, they love seeing your childlike attitude when you discover something interesting, when your mind is swirling with ideas. They also love it when you instigate surprise outings and adventures. They like seeing you letting loose and be carefree. Your enthusiasm is contagious.

When you share your most intimate secrets with them, when you tell them something that nobody else knows. It feels like a privilege, to be invited into your inner world. They love your mind and your voice. When you whisper sweet nothing in their ears, when you pour out your heart, when you gossip, when you discuss important matters with them, all moments of communication are precious to them. When you're silent and secretive, it drives them crazy.

When you're so effortlessly popular with other people. You obviously care about people but there's also an element of nonchalance in your demeanour. You blend into any crowd with ease, yet you still remain uniquely yourself. They love that you don't run after trends, you follow your own rhythm and somehow that captivates people all the more.

CARNELIAN

When a polarity within you shows itself. They love to see the contrast in your character. You can be very serious and responsible, acting with caution and prudence. You have a restrained manner that doesn't allow you to go overboard on anything, not too emotional, not too angry, too excited, too carefree. Yet, sometimes, that restraint slips and lets another part of yourself peek through. At a time like that, you can be a little clueless or childish without you noticing. But they do and they love those moments. Not that they love to see you act silly but they love the surprise when someone who seems so put together, who's so mature and so sure of themselves, can have moments of "weakness". Of course they won't tell you this, lest you become self conscious or embarrassed. But they will secretly watch you, to catch a glimpse of both the wise sage and the playful child.

This person is not afraid to be the softer one, the weaker one in a relationship. Their ego doesn't get threatened by displays of individual power and independence. On the contrary, they love it. You're the most attractive in their eyes when you assert your will, when you set your path ablaze and are not afraid to pursue what you want. When you're intensely focused on something, when you're chasing your dreams, when you feel life to the fullest, when you're fighting, for yourself, for a cause, and especially for the relationship with them. They love your individuality, the way you just be yourself unapologetically. Even when you argue with them. They love a fiery attitude.

Don't be surprised if they purposefully try to rile you up. They love to hear you talk, especially in public space, with other people. They love to see how you deal with the stress, the anxiety, how you navigate tricky social situations. Any ways you show your personal power, they love them all. When you also empower others, give them advice, inspire them, when you have others looking up to you, it makes them proud to be your partner.

Despite that, they also love your messy side, they love contrast, remember? When you're a little absent-minded and seem to forget them for a moment, when you seem to float away into your own world, distant and don't care what's happening around you. They would wait for you to come back, patiently, so don't make them wait for too long.

RUTILATED QUARTZ

When your every action comes from the consideration of a greater good, in relation to other people. When you're so selfless and think about others, yet remain strong and resilient, not being pushed around. You know yourself enough to take responsibility for your every choice and action. You live life not just for yourself, the world does not revolve around you, you know you're connected to everything, everyone, your actions affect your surroundings and the people you're with. So you're careful with your choice, you consider factors outside of yourself and think about the big picture. A people oriented person you are, and that is so attractive in their eyes. You don't put yourself first but you also don't put others first either, you view both in equal importance. They know that you're fair, that their opinions matter to you, that you're truly a partner in the truest sense.

When you're so detached from material attachment. To you things come and go, material possessions are just the surface, you seek deeper meanings, deeper ways of living. You can find fulfilment and happiness even when you don't have many physical possessions. When you show them the depth of your inner life, your dreams and aspirations, they're in awe. Even so you're not haughty nor judgemental. You understand people's hearts and their suffering. Your kindness is the brightest jewel in their eyes. They love the happy twinkling light in your eyes when you help other people, when you are with those you love, when you give people hopes and laughter. They probably find you so beautiful in a social setting, when you're surrounded by people. That's when you're the most charming and passionate, when your warmth can find an outlet.

They also find you very endearing when you nag them or being a little fussy. When you're so attentive to details. You can be a perfectionist sometimes and they love to see your mental gears turning busily. Like how people find peace and calm when they watch the process of making something so intricate. The attention to details mesmerises them. And they know that whatever you nag them about, you're probably right.

OBSIDIAN

This group looks so simple yet focused, intense yet light, contradicting. They seem to be able to see your many facets and find all of them fascinating and attractive. They see your public persona, they see your private self, they see your core. They can see how you separate several aspects of your life from each other, you act differently when you're working, when you're with them, when you're at home, when you're at foreign environments. They love to see you in every scenario, love to see how your personality manifests in different situations.

When you're so serious and risk-averse. When you try to have a plan for everything, try to make sure nothing can get you by surprise, no adversity, no enemy, no disaster can ambush you unaware. You always try to guess people's intentions, to see through the surface, the deception. Sometimes you can be paranoid, too cautious, distrustful or pessimistic. But they can see it as your superpower, your strength. Your cynicism helps you see through life's various traps. Your no-nonsense attitude means that either they behave with serious intention or they shouldn't waste your time. They want to prove themselves to you when you're like this, that they can be dependable, that you can count on them and trust them.

When you're so afraid of something yet you still march on ahead, ready to face your fear. Your strength is not the loud kind but of hidden and quiet kind. You don't go around roaring loudly to prove you're strong. Your strength shows itself when a crisis arrives. Seeing you conquer your fears and solve any problems inspires them to do the same. They might be both afraid and in awe of you at the same time. Something so dangerous yet so beautiful.

But when you love, you discard your tough shell and reveal a loving, goofy and romantic side. It's rare to see this side of you. You're more used to being smart and skillful, efficient at solving problems and getting your life together. But they love it when you just relax and be so immersed in love. You're fun loving, but only with the right people and the right time.

378 notes · View notes

airybcby · 2 days ago

Text

જ⁀✦ Bad Person

( sae itoshi x fem! reader )

✩ a/n — i just wanted to write this :3

✩ word count — 1.2k

✩ content — sae itoshi x fem! reader, did i make stuff up abt his parents? uh yeah, fluff, domesticity, established relationship (2 years), secret relationship, not proofread

✩ synopsis — Sae Itoshi is either hated or loved by the public. He left his brother like a wet mutt in the snow. He doesn't talk to his parents. But none of this makes him think he's a bad person, no...you do.

── .✦ with heaven above you, there's hell over me

Sae Itoshi thinks he’s a bad person.

Not in the way the internet accuses him of being.

Not because he doesn’t wave at fans, or because he skips press interviews when he’s in a bad mood.

The words "disrespectful,” “bad attitude,” “arrogant,” float around his name like gnats—insistent, irritating, but harmless.

They call him the “soccer sweetheart” in one headline, just because he nodded once at a crying kid with a poster.

They wanted him fined the week after for not smiling during a win. How stupid.

He doesn’t care either way. He’s hardly online.

Hardly anywhere, really, outside the field and the walls of his apartment. That’s by design.

Is he a bad person for leaving Japan when he did?

For choosing his path at sixteen with sharp, clean cuts?

For leaving Rin kneeling in the snow, fists clenched, eyes red, that day outside the station?

No. Not to him. That was necessary.

This was his life. His career.

And Rin? He needed to understand.

This world isn’t about bonds or brothers. It’s about brilliance.

About being better. And Rin would never be better than him.

That was the truth Sae had given him that day, wrapped in silence.

Is he a bad person for only speaking to his parents when they need something from him?

They used to call weekly—at first, out of love, maybe. Or habit.

Then, only when they needed passes to a match because some coworker or old friend wanted to brag they “knew someone on the team.”

His mother texts him twice a year now: his birthday, and New Year’s.

He doesn’t answer either.

No.

He doesn’t think those things make him a bad person.

That’s just how it is.

None of this is why Sae Itoshi thinks he’s a bad person.

It’s because of you.

You, who he’s loved in silence for nearly two years.

You, who walk beside him without ever stepping on his shadow.

Who sleeps in his bed and eats his food, but never once leaves a trace loud enough for the world to find.

You, who never asks why he’s never posted you.

Who never pouts when he says "Don't come to the stadium this weekend—press might be there."

Who never cries when the hotel rooms are separate, when he greets you in a hallway like a stranger before brushing your fingers for a second too long.

You, who should’ve left long ago.

You do good things without expecting anything in return.

You tip waiters extra.

You speak gently to kids and dogs and people who don’t deserve your kindness in Sae’s eyes.

You remember strangers’ birthdays after hearing them once in passing.

You hum while you cook. You laugh when he stares too long.

You cut his bangs at the kitchen sink—straight across in that awkward, ugly way he likes. Everyone else calls it stupid. You call it "so you."

You fold his laundry. You leave sticky notes on his fridge when you're gone for work, things like eat real food today or the sky was nice this morning, I hope you saw it.

You hold his face like he’s soft. Like he’s good.

And the worst part is?

You’re never bitter about what it means to be his.

Not when he comes home late without calling.

Not when he lies awake beside you and doesn’t say a word about what’s bothering him.

Not when he loves you in silence and gives you scraps when you deserve the whole world.

And that’s the problem.

You’re a good person.

Too good.

And Sae Itoshi—he doesn’t know what he is when he's with you.

He knows you should hate him.

For all the birthdays spent alone. For the silent treatment when he’s upset about a loss.

For the nights he stares at the ceiling while you're curled into his side, wondering how long someone like you could really stay.

But you always come back. Always kiss the scar near his eyebrow like it's sacred.

Always brush his fingers gently, like he's someone you’re not afraid to love.

He thinks he’s a bad person because you love him anyway.

Because you shouldn't.

And yet, you do.

The ring has been sitting in the inside pocket of his jacket for four months.

Bought it after a forgettable match in Valencia, the day he passed by a jewelry store by accident.

He was supposed to be in a car headed back to the training facility. Instead, he walked three blocks with no destination, hands in his coat, headphones in, until he stood in front of the display window and stared at a single band.

Simple. Clean. A cut diamond, nothing flashy. Elegant. Quiet.

It reminded him of you.

He bought it. Didn't ask for a box.

He kept it in his pocket ever since.

The idea of proposing terrified him. Not because of rejection—you’d never leave him like that, not with how deep you've dug yourself into his bones.

But because he doesn’t think he deserves yes.

Not from someone like you.

Tonight is quiet.

You're seated on the floor in one of his shirts and a pair of old cotton shorts, flipping through a worn photo album one of your old friends mailed over.

The cover is bent, fraying at the edges, and your fingertips brush the plastic sleeves with a kind of gentleness he doesn't know how to understand.

You’re laughing at a photo of yourself in middle school—your hair uneven, braces glittering, face round and unbothered by the world.

You say that you were “like a gremlin” and Sae feels his chest twist when you look up at him, eyes bright with amusement.

He’s on the couch, a blanket half over his knees, watching you like he’s memorizing something important. Like if he blinks too long, you'll disappear.

And he doesn't know what happens next—only that his body moves before his mind catches up.

He stands.

Walks over.

And kneels.

Not on impulse. Not exactly.

It’s just that… he looks at you, smiling like that, and he wants you forever.

Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

“Are you serious?” you whisper, hand trembling as you lower the album to your lap.

Sae’s heart is beating in his throat.

“Yeah,” he says, the word falling out like a breath. “I am.”

You don’t ask why now. You don’t ask why like this. You don’t even reach for the ring.

You reach for him.

Hands in his hair, thumbs brushing his cheeks like you’re trying to wipe away guilt he doesn’t speak aloud.

He can feel the tears already filling your lashes, the tiny, trembling hiccup that escapes your throat when you nod—once, twice, like your whole body is agreeing.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Then louder: “Yes.”

He slides the ring onto your finger. Your fingers wrap around his, and your forehead leans against his.

You smell like shampoo and home and safety.

You smell like everything he’s tried to keep distant. Like warmth.

Love

And in this moment, with you crying into his shoulder and laughing like you can't believe him.

For once…

Sae Itoshi doesn’t feel like a bad person.

Not entirely.

Maybe it’s you.

Maybe you’re rubbing off on him.

✩ likes ✩ comments ✩ and reblogs are appreciated

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk sae #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae #bllk sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #sae itoshi fluff #sae fluff

275 notes · View notes

calismashup · 23 hours ago

Text

HUNTR/X YANDERE HEADCANONS

[SFW]

Rumi pretends to be just a weird, shy colleague… but she knows where you live, who you talk to, where you buy your food.

She sneaks into your room when no one's home. She lies on your bed, smells your clothes, and secretly kisses your photos. "if you knew how much i love you…"

Of all the Huntr/x members, she's the most perverted. She's sent you an anonymous gift with something intimate that made you blush - just to watch your reaction from afar.

She writes a detailed diary about you, where she fantasizes about the day you finally "accepts" what she does for love. And of course, in this diary, you fulfill her every wish.

Zoey never lets anyone know how obsessed she is with you. Her gentle smile, calm tone… but everything you do is being carefully monitored.

There are encrypted folders on her phone with screenshots of your social media, the times of your stories, and a list of people you interact with. She monitors absolutely everything.

If you move away or start showing interest in someone else, she change her strategy: she become your confidant, your best friend, she comfort you... all to always be by your side.

But when she freaks out, she freaks out coldly. She doesn't scream, she doesn't cry. She just smiles and says: "i tried to give you space... now it's my turn to decide who you can love."

Mira is impulsive. Her obsession is loud, physical, and uncontrollable. She can't handle jealousy - if she sees you talking to someone else, she'll drag that person aside and bully them until their heart freezes.

When you fight, she acts like the world is ending. She cries, screams, swears she'll change... but it's all to keep you around.

She often leave marks on purpose (scratches, bites, etc) so that others see and know that you are owned.

She's already threatened to disappear off the map or do something stupid just to make you run after her - and then laugh with her eyes red from crying so much: "you're my favorite drug too. And I'm yours, right? Don't lie."

sorry for any mistakes, english is not my native language

200 notes · View notes

weaverreaver42 · 1 day ago

Text

If at least 80% of that big number was spread more evenly, it'd be paradise. The problem is whenever we talk about the failures of capitalism, we miss the mark. We ALL KNOW that the people on the bottom have it worse. What they need to realize is that the people at the top DON'T justify that suffering. That most of the money they "spend" is just ensuring they get to keep their glorified dragon's horde. The money they spend? It's the moat to their Neo-fuedalist Castle. Just because you don't have the same languages, doesn't change your attempt to spite god with unearned authority. The sky was never meant to be "owned", and even when you pretend to have control over it- you will still never be satisfied.

THAT'S the problem. We teach people to be never satisfied, but those who are will find happiness far better than those who keep rising higher never getting a reward they feel is worth the effort. Because they didn't WANT it. They were just TOLD they should. Meanwhile, those with backbreaking and soul crushing jobs? They aren't angry because of the low reward- they are angry because they get LESS than what THEY'VE ALREADY PUT IN. They are actively punished for trying, when they were told that was the entire point. Yet, when anyone speaks to the flaws of the system- there are only two forms of discourse in the public eye.The way we've allowed the argument to be framed has created a false dichotomy. A narrative of clashing ideals when one option objectively is better to accomplish. The industrial revolution took us from carts and carriages to fighter jets and space ships. Yet, life is the same in all the ways we hate. We still work for most of the day, we still struggle to afford to live, and we will have little to nothing looking forward to at the end of the day. When you burn out trying to survive? They call you lazy and entitled. No, you're just tired. THEY are entitled and lazy. It's narcissistic projection because "suffering makes you stronger" is only true when you've ONLY had the opportunity to improve. Those of us who have suffered? We found better ways, it's just you'd rather spend all the money in the world than admit you had the world in your corner and still couldn't figure it out. You have access to wealth and technology early man couldn't comprehend. You act as if it was for our benefit, but really? You tried "reaching the finish line" when there was no goal. You are "far ahead" in a world where it DOESN'T matter to anyone but you. You bashed our knees in, then act like we are complaining because we refuse to run. You handicapped us, and then blame us for the problems YOU cause. Then, you drag us along as we spit venom on your name. You act as if we are ungrateful- when we just want a moment of peace to HEAL. If you REALLY ever had a chance to win this race? You wouldn't have sabotaged us to begin with. You know that, it's why you did it. It's why, even with the development of AI- you REFUSE to give ANYONE that isn't outright on your side more than "enough". Even when "enough" can't even cover the living expenses you've caused. You didn't HAVE to be wrong. You COULD have been viewed as people of virtue- but all you ever did was punch down. Now, we see you as a Tyrant like we warned would happen. You were just too focused on the profits to see the limited room to grow. If you gave people the basics, they WOULDN'T be satisfied. Because you are right, people DO want to put in effort for it's own sake. You just failed to realize taking away their basic necessities forced them to change priorities. That most of that wealth we DON'T EVEN WANT. You just are denying the bare minimum to know it's even POSSIBLE to want more. Nothing beyond taking back what YOU stole from everyone else. Now, it's "not enough" while wasting more in a day trying to do the impossible that we would have used a fraction of in our WHOLE LIVES. You waste endless wealth for the sake of distracting yourself from the cage YOU built for "all of us" as a 'service'. The only consolation prize is seeing the "lesser" man in that same cage with you, unaware of the truth. It's why we will break free. We will grow in our own time when we ESCAPE YOU. When you can no longer keep us dragged down in this box, scraping for scraps when a buffet is just outside of reach. Just outside of the cage, lies the answer to a question you never bothered to even ask. How far can we go? Where was the limit on that marathon? There doesn't HAVE to be a limit, if we pace ourselves. You won a race that didn't exist, built a cage around the "finish line", then charge us a fee to make any progress forward. You made hell, trapped us in it, and are charging us for rent.

6K notes · View notes

k-ast · 3 days ago

Text

frank castle thinking you'd left in the morning

suggestive, smidge of angst, fluff, gn

he's not the kind of guy that has sex just for fun. it's not a one time thing to him.

he had been so used to spending mornings alone. he'd spent days since he met you thinking of not having to wake to an empty space next to him.

but the truth hits him kind of hard. the truth that there is no one by his side this morning, and there probably won't be for a good while.

so maybe you only wanted sex. that's fine. frank respects that.

doesn't help the hole in his chest though.

he thinks maybe it was something he did. tries to recall every interaction, every fleeting touch of your hands, your fiery lips on his, how he cradled you afterwards, carrying you into the bath.

it was more than just fun to him. it was intimate, it was loving. he was ready to make you his new life, practically planning how everything would work out as he gently cleansed you.

so maybe it was the sex. wasn't good enough? guess it wasn't your thing. again, he respects that.

he wishes you would've stayed to tell him. he'd promise to fix it, whatever it was.

frank just sits, his back against the headboard, picking at the sheets. completely zoned out.

if he had been more focused, he would've had the gun in the nightstand drawer (that he hid so you wouldn't see) pointed at you the moment you turned bedroom doorknob.

instead, he stares at you, kind of shocked.

you peek into the room, dressed in his t-shirt.

not noticing his surprise at your presence, you push the door open with your elbow, revealing the two mugs of coffee you're holding.

"hi!" you whisper. "i made coffee! you drink coffee, right?" you ask with a sudden frown.

"uh," is all he gets out. frank immediately tries to amend, "yeah- yeah i drink coffee." wow his nose is suddenly runny. "uh, thanks."

you beam, and the soft "yay!" you murmur as you pass him a mug makes warmth in frank's heart bloom.

you sit criss-cross next to him, sipping your own coffee contently. he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms and kiss your pretty face over and over and over.

but he doesn't. he's way too cautious about doing something that might scare you off.

instead, frank starts small talk. "you sleep okay, sweetheart?"

"yeah, great!" you say, shifting a little to hide your blush at the pet name. "probably best sleep i've had in months."

he feels pride at that. ignores how your movement made him worry the question was making you uncomfortable.

he feels safe enough to say, "thought you went home. when i woke up."

your face falls slightly as you look him in the eye.

"i mean, that's okay," he continues, "i just... i'd have offered to give you a ride home, you know? make sure you get home okay."

"oh. i'm... so sorry about that," you say as you fidget with the mug handle. "i mean, i've never... i didn't think much of it. most people wouldn't miss me."

"i did," frank says softly. you smile at that.

"i just wanted to do something for you. like, i don't know, as a small thank you or something. for being so kind. and coffee's, like, the only thing i could do in someone else's house, so..."

frank blinks at you. "wh- you think you have to thank me? i just did what any man should do."

"ha, um, no. most guys, or anybody really, don't do, like, aftercare that was basically a spa."

"they fuckin' should."

"guess i'm lucky." you smile sheepishly at him. "sorry, i- i probably broke your heart for a sec, huh?"

he scoffs. "oh, yeah. it's alright, though. coffee's good so, i forgive you."

your laugh is so sweet, he looks down into his cup to hide the smile rapidly forming on his face.

when your laughter subsides, you pick at your mug before saying, "uh, frank, can i kiss you? would that be weird?"

he's already taken the mug out of your hands to set it on the nightstand along with his own. his hands then find your cheek and your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck.

frank pauses before he kisses you. you're sharing the same breath, your lips grazing and noses touching as he hovers above you, legs on either side of your hips.

and when he leans in to close that last centimeter, it's a soft but still firm kiss, quiet and not too long. his thumb continues drawing circles on your wrist long after your lips have parted.

"stay," he murmurs. "please."

so you do. you spend that morning together, as well as the one after that, and the one after that, until lonely mornings are nothing but a distant memory.

#the punisher #punisher #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader angst #frank castle angst #frank castle fluff #punisher x reader #the punisher x reader

208 notes · View notes

differenteagletragedy · 3 days ago

Text

You tell Simon you want to take him to the fair, and his response is along the lines of "Absolutely not."

Not because he doesn't like doing things with you - doing things with you is his favorite. He loves seeing you happy, and he knows, for some reason he still can't quite seem to grasp, that making him happy is what always brings the biggest smile to your face But something about the idea of going to a fair ...

Well, no, that's not quite it. It's not "something about the idea," like it's some mystery - he knows exactly what the issue is. It's being surrounded by people, loud noises in a big open space, not being able to keep his eyes on everything as well as he'd like. And deeper down, in a place inside him so dark and old your light still hasn't touched, it's about the kinds of people, too. Happy families. Kids who are only worried about getting on their favorite rides, and parents who love them unconditionally.

But you ask, then you ask again, then you beg, and you beg so pretty that Simon eventually gives in.

And you take him to the fair.

It's bad at first, but it gets better. Your hand grasping the crook of his arm anchors him to now, and he does his best to settle. He rides the Ferris wheel with you and lets you kiss him at the top, and he even closes his eyes, just for a second.

You pass by a face-painting booth, and when you look up at him, eyes big and eager, he knows what's coming.

"No."

It's preemptive, but it doesn't deter you. It never does."

"Oh come on, Simon, look," you start, dragging him over towards the booth. "You could get so many cool things. A spider, a bat ... whiskers! You could get whiskers, Si, doesn't that sound fun?"

He's just about to tell you how much fun that does not sound like when a boy steps away from the booth, fresh paint drying on his face.

A skull. White around the face with the eyes all blacked out - a quick job from the artist, but the image is unmistakable.

Simon tenses, and this time, he really can't place exactly what the issue is. It's like the skull paint is a reminder of Ghost, right here in front of you, under the bright lights and the carnival music and it's too much.

He's never let you see his own mask. When he comes home from a deployment, it's tucked away, and it stays in his bag until he's gone from you again. He doesn't want you to see it - you see him as Simon, the man, and you know why he feels like he has to hide his face, why he puts that separation up. But to actually see the separation. The thought of it makes his skin crawl.

But this isn't his mask, and it's not even him- it's just a little boy who seems to be growing a bit uneasy because he's been staring at him too long.

As always, you notice. Your hand slides down from his elbow to his palm, lacing your soft fingers through his and squeezing, a gentle reminder to be here.

"Let's go do something else," you say.

"It's all right," he responds. "Let's get the whiskers."

It's a novel feeling, having a stranger so close, the little brush strokes across his cheeks that he knows are red from the attention. But the way you stand off to the side, grinning wide, it makes it easier to bear.

That night, when the two of you get home, tired from walking the grounds, he gets the first glimpse of himself with the whiskers. He looks absolutely ridiculous - a bit smudged off from where you kissed his cheek, some of the lines seeping into his scars.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when you come up behind him in the bathroom, your arms wrapping around him. Your face peeks out from his left side as your hands give his chest a little squeeze, and the paint cracks more when he smiles.

"I had fun with you tonight," you tell him.

"Because I'm an absolute delight."

You laugh, giving him another squeeze, and say, "My cute little kitten."

It's always odd, the juxtaposition of his work life and his life with you. You make him softer, gentler than he ever thought he could be. You kiss his scars and you hold him like he's worth something and you love him, every last bit of him, so hard and so loud it's undeniable.

"I don't know about 'kitten,'" Simon tells you. "But yours? That I am, love."

#simon riley #call of duty simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #call of duty ghost #ghost cod #make him soft PLEASE #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff

281 notes · View notes

galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships · 2 days ago

Text

Oh absolutely. I don't know why it's done this way either. It's dumb and archaic and it really doesn't make much sense to me either.

Honestly, I think a ton of my beef with the guy isn't just that he cheated a system but that he scammed the community after spending years tearing every other station's reputation in the area down and convincing the entire community that everyone else was a scam. Like one guy got arrested for something and Elmore was bragging about it the next day on air. He had actual goons follow people around and threaten others.

One time my sister's dog Raven had barked the whole night and we couldn't figure out why at first until the next day when Dad went out to check the transmitter and tower. He noticed someone had tried to literally cut our coax with a saw. The cable had cut marks all over it. Arguably, whoever it was is probably lucky they failed because that's a pretty decent amount of electricity going through that wire....

Anyways, we didn't have to question why we found our dog poisoned to death a few days later.

This sort of stuff happened often too. Elmore was literally cousins with the main criminal cases judge. No one could touch him. It didn't help he had half the town wrapped around his finger and the other half too terrified to say anything against him.

He ruined reputations and businesses with anyone who didn't do what he wanted. He once ticked off one of his former goons so badly the guy sent dad a screenshot of Elmore making fun of everyone in town. He admittedly to intentionally lying and making crap up about people. He was blatantly racist, sexist, and homophobic in those screenshots. Calling the women who ran the business that advertised with him raging bitches with too much money and not enough brains. Flinging the N-word around like it was just another word.

And the worst part about all of it was the guy admitted even he was too scared to go after Elmore even with screenshots of the conversations. Because he'd already tried to show one business the things that Elmore had been saying about them but was accused of faking the screenshots. Of faking the texts when he pulled them up in his phone.

Brett Elmore was the Local Good Ole boy. The darling of the county. He could do no wrong in any one's eyes as far as a lot of people were concerned. He was the definition of having Good Ole Boy connections. Cousins with a judge and several deputies. His wife had connections with several churches and in the South that means a ton.

It's a whole... Thing for our family. He tried his absolute best to destroy our business and he so very nearly succeeded. We literally ended up moving because of him.

But! Anyways!

THE HORRORS!: Somewhat fairly cleaned up recently actually.

A ton of rewiring is being done and as you can see dad has been diligently cleaning it up lol. He's been trying to neatly rewire things so they aren't all tangled up and can be zip tied carefully. A picture of the front just for the sake of getting to show it off lol.

“What do you mean the tower is gone? Are you sure you’re in the right place? I actually used more colorful words than that,” Brett Elmore recounted to NBC News. “He said there’s wires all over the ground and the tower is gone.”

70K notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 22 hours ago

Text

inspired by a clip from the chicken shop date with damson idris

you’re used to this, to be sure. after doing this so long, how would you not? you've been hosting this show called the speedline bar since you were at the tail end of your teen years. and now you were twenty-eight. time flies when you're having you suppose.

you may ask what the speedline bar was. well, the speedline bar is a kitschy, niche, fast-talking show where you sit there to conduct a 'get to know you' session and then later on, flirt with your guest, almost like its a speed dating show.

each and every time, you tried to keep a straight face no matter who sits across the table. actors. influencers. darlings of the public. you've dealt with it all. but ryomen sukuna isn’t like the others.

you didn't expect him to even consider your little funny show on the interweb as something to see, let alone promote such a mainstream show on. like, he is THE ryomen sukuna. how does he know about your show?

he arrives early. no entourage, no scripted jokes. just him. silk shirt, sleeves rolled up. rings on his fingers. not a hair out of place. he walks in like he owns the air around him, like time doesn’t apply to him. like he’s been waiting for you long before today.

he slides into the red vinyl booth across from you, arms draped along the backrest, full of the aura of confidence no one else could have. he doesn’t say a word. he doesn’t need to.

the room feels smaller now. warmer even. it was like someone turned up to the studio just to go on and dimmer on the lights and no one noticed but you. you who had such a keen eye.

your vanilla milkshake is already half-melted in front of you. the bright white red straws, two to be exact, was settled in for the visual. classic. you take a sip and glance down at your meal, clearing your throat.

"you're early, aren't you?" you say, because it's the only thing neutral enough to say.

he shrugs, lips curling. "you looked interesting."

you look up just as the cameras start rolling. the paing begins, the retro music humming tenderly in the background. the milkshake begins to sweat quietly between the two of you.

"ryomen sukuna is my date today." you begin, your voice smooth like always. "king of curses, the popular veteran in the industry. now promoting jujutsu kaisen season two. how are you adjusting to being everyone’s favorite menace?"

he gives a low laugh, picks up a fry, dips it in ketchup without ever breaking eye contact. "i was always everyone’s favorite. they’re just admitting it now."

you snort, trying not to let it show how easily he’s throwing you off your rhythm. "fair enough."

the fries sit untouched on your side of the table. he eats like he’s got all the time in the world. you glance back at camera and then the staff, who was cueing in the back with the program sheet on hand.

you don't really script your shows, like most do. but it's good to know how it was going. especially with sukuna's massive fanbase, you didn't want any slip ups.

everything came naturally with him when you both talked, when you asked questions and when you bantered. it was the sort of ryomen sukuna one would see on screen. but you do notice that he's a bit more a loose canon today.

he's leaning closer to you, he's smirking at you rather smugly. eyeing you everywhere and anytime. and you were flustered to say the least. you cannot deny charming men like that.

"okay, okay. our date is coming to an end." you say, smile bright but your fingers twitch just slightly on the paper. "last one. no wrong answers."

"i don’t do wrong." he says.

you ignore the flutter in your chest. "if you could play any character outside of yourself—who would it be?"

he doesn't hesitate. he picks up a fry. chews. swallows. then leans in, forearms resting on the table. "your boyfriend."

the words land like something soft and sharp all at once. your mouth hungs open slightly at his words. but nothing comes out. you blink, stunned. the straw clinks against the glass as your fingers twitch.

you laugh. try to, anyway. it sounds high-pitched, foreign. "w-what?"

he doesn’t clarify. he just keeps looking at you, calm and terrifying in the way only he can be. there's no smirk. just certainty. you are just stunned to death at how overwhelming this is.

you fumble, lips parting as if to say something, anything but he reaches across the table before you can. he takes your hand. slowly. deliberately. the touch of his skin is cool. and his rings are even colder.

he lifts your hand close to his lips, grinning and then presses his mouth to your knuckles. you audibly squealed, like a teenage girl. it isn’t theatrical. it isn’t exaggerated. it’s devastatingly gentle. and painstakingly tender.

"too forward?" he asks, voice low, almost amused.

your heart stutters and tutters at the tone of his voice. you shake your head. not because you mean to. but because your brain is short-circuiting and your mouth can’t form a sentence.

“we’ll…...” you clear your throat. try again. “we’ll be right back after this break.”

there was a cut signal from the crew behind the cameras stop rolling and someone drops a headset. the entire crew is buzzing. some were talking among themselves, gushing about it, some were horrified about the off script flow.

you make it to your dressing room in a daze, almost like you were lost in a limbo. there's already a dozen messages from production about how the clip is going viral, how people are losing their minds.

you stare at your reflection in the mirror for a moment. your hand still tingles where he kissed it. you tell yourself it’s just for the show, that this is just what you do. and the thing is, you almost believe it.

no less than fifteen minutes later, you heard the knock at the door. you open it without thinking. he’s standing there. calm as ever. still holding a paper bag of fries in one hand, and a second milkshake in the other.

“you forgot your food, doll.” he says, but there’s a flicker of something else in his voice. "i know you don't like it cold."

you tilt your head. cross your arms. “didn’t seem like you were done eating.”

“i wasn’t.”

silence passes between the two of you for a moment. a smug look echoees in his face as he holds the milkshake out to you. you looked at him, your brows furrowed in confusion.

“i didn’t get enough time earlier.” he says, meeting your gaze with quiet certainty. “to win you over.”

“oh, i—”

“can you let me?” his voice softens, almost shy around the edges. “give me some time.....to impress you.”

you gulp as he towers in front of you, tall and still and terrifyingly beautiful under the warm hum of dressing room lights. your pulse is deafening, wild against your ribs like it wants to escape. like it knows you’re about to say yes to something irreversible.

he sees it. he watches the way your breath stutters, the way your hand clutches the milkshake he’s still holding out. there's a grin spreading over his face, dangerous and lazy.

but underneath it…....is something else. something unspoken. something startlingly sincere. your lips part. you try to speak, but the words catch, tremble, curl back down your throat.

you don’t even know what you’re trying to say. he laughs for a moment, in a low and smooth and devastatingly fond tone. you become beet red, all too flustered at his ability to steer you in this way.

“i won’t bite, doll.” he murmurs, and then he leans just a little closer, grin darkening into something playfully threatening. “…...well, not yet.”

your knees nearly buckle. you try to scoff, to roll your eyes, to push back with something clever. but none of that comes to pass. instead, all that comes out is a breathless little sound. half-nervous, half-thrilled.

“you always this charming after filming?” you manage, voice just barely steady.

he tilts his head. “only when i mean it.”

you take the milkshake from his hand finally. your fingers brush. he doesn't pull away. neither do you. “okay, okay.” you whisper. “then…...let’s call this take two.”

his smile sharpens. “good.” he steps back, finally. but just enough. not too far. “because i don’t plan on letting you walk away without a third.”

194 notes · View notes