#STILL NOT SHUTTING UP ABT THIS AU NOT SORRY

[hinamie]

round 2 of prelim designs for @philosophiums n my lovechild of an au

first year trio

[autistic-katara]

u ever think of a ship u like one-sidedly and wonder why tf u didn’t project onto them when suffering from a bad one sided crush

[villainsidestep]

oh survivor!fawn we are really in it now

[comicalcarnival]

"X AU_ Missed Connection"?? it sounds sad...

it starts off as like. Angst train 101 but surprisingly speedruns into "the entire Xio team has adopted X (who has taken on Daichi's appearance and is claiming to have amnesia) and now X has like, 5 siblings and 4 parents"

there's teeeechnically a fic I posted about it already (The Dream is from the MC au) but most of it is unposted still. (which is a shame, its like. 30k words and only 6~ chapters so far. well, 6 chapters and then mini .5 chapters between every chapter w/ silly in between moments/things only mentioned in the main chapter/other chara's introspection on misc events)

I'm tempted to post it, but also i feel like I should re-do the first few intro chapters so it's more coherent (p sure i wrote those ones back in 2020...? MC AU's been a WIP for SOOOOO long, awhoopsie.)

[love-belle]

we caught that holiday glee !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it doesn't take a genius to know that they're actually the icons.

or

for when you want to spend all of your christmases with them. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - you got me thinking nonsense ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - hahahahaha hiiii!!!! im so SORRY for being absent i've been going insane over school 😭😭😭 it's all just a mess rn (IM IN LOVEEEEE I MET THIS GUY) and hopefully, i can post often but still, i can't promise anything!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES <3 i hope ur all doing okay!!!! i love u all so much :)

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,417,916 others

yourusername here's a lil carol i wrote it's abt u and me 🎀

11,628 comments

username SCREECHING TOO MUCH TO UNPACK

username no bc nonsense christmas is so

username everyone shut up im focusing on "i need that charles dickens"

username SANTA DOESN'T KNOW U LIKE I DO

username roman empire or roman empire??? yeah that's what i thought

username somebody sedate me im going feral over nonsense christmas lord

username i know l*ndo ascended to the nth circle of hell after hearing this

username I NEED THAT CHARLES DICKENS

-> username girly did NOT hold back

maxverstappen1 ears are bleeding

-> yourusername ur 26282837 messages crying about cindy lou who say something diff but maybe that's js me

-> maxverstappen1 SHUT

-> username nah cindy lou who is PAINFUL

username charles and y/n 🤝 "what if we hypothetically broke up"

-> username nah bc i KNOW those mfs giggle while writing songs together

username THE TSHIRT OH MY GOF

-> username need that for educational purposes

username "i've been there through the good and the bad" ur honour i am unwell

alex_albon THIS IS WHY HIS NAME IS "north pole💈" IN YOUR PHONE ??????????

-> yourusername says who

-> alex_albon don't gaslight me

-> yourusername gaslighting is not real ur js crazy ☺️

username the lore is revealing itself good lord

username i will never be as iconic as y/n y/l/n and i don't think i can be

username OPPOSITE OF SMALL?? BIG SNOWBALLS?? girl u used to sing for DISNEY

-> yourusername i js need to cut a few words off and then it's the perfect disney anthem wdym 🙄🙄🙄

-> username start "cutting a few words" and the whole song is GONE 😭

username i played this in front of my mom y'all what am i supposed to DO

username WHAT'S 12-4???? YEAH

lewishamilton certainly an experience listening to this for the first time, seb and i are proud of you xx

-> yourusername i love my unofficial parents thank u xx

username i am unwell.

charles_leclerc so proud of you mon ange ( my angel )

-> yourusername thank YOU for writing songs with me ☹️

charles_leclerc forever and ever in awe 🥰

-> yourusername i love you

username THE TSHIRT OMG

-> username it's a need fr

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 2,528,916 others

charles_leclerc we caught that holiday glee

tagged yourusername

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[noellefan101]

Hello hello! I love reading your Streamer AU for the HSR cast, can I request you to do a part 2 for it hehe 🤩

You can pick whoever you like but can I request one of them to be Fu Xuan? The thought of her streaming is kinda funny HEJISEHWJSHEHEH

Also thank you so much!! You may refer to me as - - Anon 🏎️

ofc im so sorry that im a few months late though 😭

Char: Fu Xuan, Topaz, Aventurine the gambler, Blade x gn reader

warnings: ooc, not proofread, swearing, you are pretty :3

Summary: your princess(or partner if you wanna be boring) is a streamer, a popular one at that. this is a fic about: how their chat finds out that you are dating, how they treat you off-stream and on-stream/do they treat you differently

Fu Xuan

How chat found out: it should be pretty easy for anyone to find out if im going to be completely honest. as she is both a bragger and a complainer.

if you had done something, anything, that she didnt like or just thought was stupid, she was going to lovingly complain about it to her following. and yes, this also applies to everything and everything you accomplish.

so uhm, lets just say she also sees no reason to keep such things a secret unless you begged her to not mention your relationship(she would still end up talking abt it at some point).

but luckily her chatters are nice and like you. but they definitely how Fu Xuan pulled you, they do not see the vision of how she did that

On-Stream: she herself does not see any difference in how she treats you whether she is streaming or not. her viewers however, very much see a difference to when you are with her or not

"Fu Xuan seems nicer with [name] around", "Xuan's eyes seems to light up just a little whenever [name] is around", this was not known to her until her following started chatting about this online

her face was unusually red when she read a message about her being soft for you on stream

Off-Stream: she, kissed you more, maybe even more affectionate in general, since she just doesnt like her whole life being online and thinks its unhealthy and dumb.

she is also just way too into you for her to want to share you with the random people watching her on a tuesday afternoon.

Topaz

How chat found out: you forgot she was streaming and brought in a snack for her and numby

and you accidentally called her 'love' while walking in

oh she was so red, and it did not help that she was on a call with aventurine and he heard everything

On-Stream: honestly, couldn't care less about what her following thinks, although she does get embarrassed.

she will hug you she will kiss you.

she will do whatever she wants to do, but is extra shy when Jade is around and watching.

and despite what she say and does, if you ever kissed her infront of the camera she would combust and melt into a little puddle

while numby is just innocently eating her little meal beside you two

Off-Stream: doesnt let go of you unless she actually has to get up and do something without you

loves hugging you, and especially with numby cuddling up with you both

kisses you more and it feels like you're kissing for longer, but this is just your observations

Aventurine

How chat found out: are you kidding? you really dont know? he doesnt stop fucking talking about you

he's playing another gacha game? oh this character kind of looks like [name], i should totally get them

irl stream? he's getting distracted left and right because he saw something that you would like

just on a call with his friends? talking about how pretty you are left and right

he just doesnt stop, there was no way you weren't going to appear on camera at some point

On-Stream: kisses you a lot just for just existing

chat thought it was cute in the start but now its more like when does he stop omfg

hugs you a lot and makes you sit on his lap while he gambles, saying that you bring him more luck

will still not stop bragging about how amazing you are, even when you're just sitting next to him on your phone

Off-Stream: still does not shut up about you, and is still very affectionate

but he is a little more touchy when people arent watching, still wanting you for himself in one way or another

he likes showing you off, but he also values his private life when he isnt the popular streamer Aventurine, being watched by thousands of people

but with you, and only you? he is just Kakavasha

Blade

How chat found out: one word, Kafka.

this is the only possible way other than you yourself walking in to see him streaming and you happen to be on camera.

Kafka, Silver Wolf, and Firefly is the only reason his following knows that he even has a love life to begin with. they talk more about you than he does! betrayer!!

but seriously, Kafka loves to talk about you two to her own viewers as well, even getting Blade to correct her because you can bake, and is very good at it

On-Stream: he doesnt talk about you, this may seem concerning but i assure you he's just shy. if he talked about you on stream it was because they girls made him talk about you.

but he just likes his private life, alright? he also strictly told Kafka to not tell them anything bad about or her head will be on a platter

but no matter, you can go kiss him yourself if you want to, he cant do anything to you

or he will die mentally and hopefully physically

Off-Stream:

absolute bbg

will not let go of you at all, never ever

he's always touching in some way or form the whole day, but when he turns on the camera and starts streaming its like his personality turned around

the only thing remaining is how he longingly looks in your direction whenever you come in with some water

thank u for reading and thank you 🏎️ anon for requesting even tho this was long ago(im still very sorry abt that)- Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[sohnric]

millennium bug – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: 90s au, twenty-five twenty-one au, brother's best friend au, childhood friends au, fluff, slice of life, coming of age. older brother! sunwoo. essentially just eric being baek yijin. oct-nov scenes inspired by weak hero class 1. no plot just vibes im sorry

warnings: minimal swearing and thats all lol

word count: 19k

a/n: posting a fic for a new fandom is always so scary pls be nice to me deobiblr bc im literally abt to cry. also yes i am calling this a 2521 au bc the plot is so heavily inspired it might just be one. a special thank you goes out to @csenke for dragging me into stanning this group i am enjoying myself 🤞

there are some pros and cons to not having friends growing up. cons: you're always forced to tag along with your brother and his group wherever he goes. pros: his childhood best friend is kind of hot.

JUNE OF 1999

Being Kim Sunwoo’s younger sister is no bed of roses sometimes.

Sure, you get the occasional excitement of having him bring you rollerskating with you down the hill or the ever so rare moments of him defending you in front of your mother when you two have done something wrong (while never saying he was in on the bad act as well, of course), but more than often, you are met with his disgusted looks and insults whenever the two years older boy passes by your room and casually bangs at the door just to spite you.

His snarky looks are especially ones to remember. Maybe it’s because he offers them to you often– much like in this very moment, completely unprovoked, and completely not by your fault.

“But mum–”

“I already told you, Sunwoo,” your mother looks at him with a stern look in her eye, the one that makes chills run down your spine, “you can go if you take Y/N with you.”

“But nobody’s bringing their sister! Mum, come on–”

“Take it or leave it, young man.”

And see, your brother may be 19 years old, but he’s still in need of getting permission to leave the house if it includes an overnight stay. It’s an unspoken rule he always follows, since he’s usually granted the right to leave, but the result of his conversation was different than what he expected this time. And see, you may be just two years younger than him (one year left until you are an adult), but even though your mother is too busy to take care of you and entertain your slowly adultling self on most days because of her highly demanding job, she always makes sure that you don’t stay alone for long, and that’s exactly why (you realize, contrary to your brother) she insists on making you tag along on Sunwoo’s trip to the beach house with his friends.

The male grunts and turns on his heel, not giving your mother another response– and with this, you know she won. And that means you’ll have to pack your bag soon, because you know that there’s no way Sunwoo would miss going to the beach house with his friends– even if it meant making his little sister tag along.

And sure enough, Lee Juyeon’s minivan pulls up into your driveway only a few hours later, and the sound of the honking outside is enough for your older brother to aggressively drag you outside of the house, shutting the door behind you and hollering an angry “Bye mum!” to your mother. Your figure is handled with the least amount of care possible as you’re thrown towards the white van, the door opened and 5 heads already peeking out with expecting eyes, waiting for your brother’s arrival.

“My mum made my stupid sister go with me, so I hope we have space for one more,” Sunwoo huffs as he throws his bag into the trunk, slamming it with more force than was necessary (boy does he know how to throw a scene), an encouraging voice of none other than Juyeon– the driver himself– landing in your ear. 

“Sure, just hop in!”

With that, your feet finally unglue themselves off the ground and bring you into the vehicle. You’re familiar with his friends– since a scenario like this hasn’t happened for the first time and you had to spend your fair time with Sunwoo’s circle growing up, mainly because you never really had many friends yourself. You’re not close with any of them, though, and you’re sure you haven’t seen half of them for ages. 

Lee Juyeon is the responsible one of the group. You’re comfortable with the fact that he’s the driver, since you’re not entirely sure if you’d trust any of the other men in this space behind the wheel (you fear the day your brother gets a driver’s license. You'd bet a million dollars that he’ll die while driving recklessly one day). Next to him on the passenger’s seat is Choi Chanhee, his best friend, carrying a map in his hands and twirling it in all possible directions to get his friend on the right track. In the three-seat behind those two is Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin and your brother himself, and in the very back of the whole van, almost in the trunk, you’re sat next to Eric Sohn– your brother’s childhood best friend.

“Hi guys,” you offer a greeting to all of them, settling into the uncomfortable leather seat (that’s peeling off, just by the way), watching as the rest of the men pay you no mind and ignore your voice, falling into a comfortable conversation with each other.

Sighing, because this always happens– your brother gets too annoyed because he has to bring you with him all the time, and you imagine his friends aren’t fond of the fact either– you settle deeper into the seat and cross your hands on your chest, looking outside of the window. You can’t imagine enjoying your trip now, since you feel like you’re a nuisance, a child they have to take care of (yes, it embarrasses you just the tiniest bit, you have to admit. Although, you do enjoy getting out of the house from time to time), and the fact that your feelings were probably more than justified and also true has you pouting, an unsatisfied feeling weighing at your lungs.

“Hi,” a voice resonates from your side, the sight of a smiling Eric peering at you taking you off guard. You didn’t expect anyone to react to your greeting– not so delayed anyway– and the sight of your brother’s best friend carrying on in the conversation with you has you shocked beyond belief. “Excited?”

Finding yourself hum in agreement– how much you are still excited for the pool and for the sun, you’re not really sure– and although you are upset, something about his open and nice demeanor has you visibly relaxing, the sparkles inviting themselves back into your eyes. “I’ve never been to the beach,” you admit, seeing Eric gasp at you in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “I go every year with my parents.”

“Well,” you hum, “you know how my mother is…” you sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s easier to joke about it than to actually let the fact get to you– with your mother being the main news anchor, she is too busy to actually go on trips and form bonds with her own children sometimes. That’s why you spent most of your childhood at Eric’s family’s house in the first place– this is what made you the closest with Sunwoo’s same aged friend. His parents were nice enough to let you stay over and have sleepovers whenever your mum had to leave suddenly and take week-long trips abroad, or have emergency shifts during late evenings. 

Eric hums, sympathizing with you. “Well, at least you get to experience it now!”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly nod, playing with the hem of your jean shorts. It’s the shorts you made yourself by cutting the legs off your favorite pants after you grew out of them and they got too short, and they’re starting to look a little worn-out now. Maybe you should beg your mum to get you some new clothing.

The conversation between the boys grows in volume, doing nothing to help you to relax in the crowded vehicle. You can’t really find a place to fit yourself in and talk, the topics too unfamiliar for you and the feeling of not even being welcome in the discussion sitting heavy on your chest, when a finger bears itself to the flesh of your thigh, making you snap your head around to gape at the source of the contact. Eric looks at you with a boyish grin, sparkles evident in his eyes.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Sure.”

The male digs around his backpack, hands searching through the contents of his bag for only a couple of seconds– since he’s the neat one, contrary to your messy brother– before he takes out a small gadget: a square with a little screen on top, a silver, circular button space sitting big in the very middle of the device. Eric throws the thing into your lap, smiling when you take it into your hands and examine it with curious eyes.

“Have you seen one before? My dad got it for me last week,” he boosts, satisfied with your reaction to it. 

Your mother’s job pays quite well– meaning that you usually have the latest gadgets, the latest trends– but if you’re being honest, you haven’t seen one of these in real life before. Yes, you caught a glimpse of an ad for it in the town center, on one of the big billboards while passing by to get to school in the morning, so you know that it’s an MP3 player, but still; this was your first time touching one and examining it in real life. 

“How does it work?” you ask, watching as the boy scoots from his seat to the middle one, so he is now sitting directly next to you, before he takes out wired headphones from the first department of his backpack and turns the little square over in his hands, finding where the jack goes.

“You put those in,” he says, plugging in the headphones, “and then you press this…” he explains, taking the device out of your hand and pushing on the power button for a few seconds, “and then it should play.”

Watching him with expecting eyes, the boy finally puts the MP3 player back into your hold. Then, his fingers swiftly put the respective earphones into your ears– like you’d do to a little kid that has no idea how they work, making you a little flushed at the action– and after that, you’re left with the sound of an unfamiliar song playing in your ears, making the sound of the chatter in the van completely tune out. Eric keeps on watching you, a sense of pride in his eyes as you nod at him, all excited with the new explory, before he takes one of the earphones out of your ear, grinning.

“Cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “The song is good,” you dumbly say, watching as the boy next to you pridefully nods at the compliment, resting his back against the car seat. 

“It’s the H.O.T album. My dad says they’re good,” he mumbles, moving the headphone he took from you and placing it into his ear, making you nod at him in acknowledgement. The action has your insides bubble with disappointment, thinking that the fun is over as you reach for the other earphone as well, offering it to the male.

Eric looks at you with a shocked pout, shaking his head. “No, we can share!” he says, pointing towards your ear. “If you want, of course.”

The action has you smiling, a shy nod escaping out of you as you reach and put the earphone back into your ear, letting yourself fall deeper into the car seat, listening to the song from Eric’s MP3 player. You’re grateful for his presence– he didn’t have to keep up a conversation with you. He could ignore you, just like the rest of his friend group always has. Maybe it was something about the two of you growing up together that always made the boy at least a bit more affectionate towards you than the rest.

You spend the car ride to the beach house with Eric leaning on your side, listening to music and his occasional blabbering about how his previous days went. 

Somehow, you're glad the seat beside him was the only vacant one when you arrived to the vehicle.

YOUR SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, 1989

You don't quite remember when you met Eric for the first time, if you’re being completely honest. The first memory you have of him is of your seventh birthday party, although you’re almost certain the boy’s been present at some point of your life before– at one point, you think you saw a picture of him and Sunwoo, two chubby toddlers, watching you as you laid on a blanket on the ground somewhere in your photo album. As far as you’re concerned, he may as well have been there when your mother brought you back from the hospital– although you think he must have been too young for that back then.

The first memory you have of Eric Sohn is the day you turned seven– a gloomy, sad day that in the moment, you prayed you wouldn’t have to remember in the first place.

It was already established that while your brother is the social butterfly, you don’t have a big friend group. Actually, you could count the number of your friends on one hand, and since the amount wasn’t as big, your mother allowed you to invite them all over to your house to celebrate your birthday with you. 

She baked a cake, she decorated the living room, hell, she even took a day off from work– something you deemed special, for it doesn’t happen often– and as you sat on the floor of your living room, the cake standing proud on the small coffee table, waiting for your friends to arrive, you hummed a song under your breath, the clock slowly passing the time you agreed for them to come over and celebrate.

At first, you didn’t mind it– everybody gets late sometimes, it’s okay. It was just a birthday party, and you had a lot of time. Not everything had to be set on schedule.

But the closer the clock moved to being one hour, than two after the time your friends were supposed to come, you grew worried. Your mother’s nervous pacing around the living room and her heavy sighs as she sat next to you on the floor, smiling at you in what you can only explain as sad way made you more and more anxious about the fact that you only had three friends, but all three of them seemed to not care enough to come celebrate your birthday with you. And as your mother finally took the final bow in the form of a soft hand on your inner thigh, her tone gentle as she called your name– “Y/N, I think we should light the candles,” you began to tear up.

You were supposed to eat the cake with your friends. You were supposed to hear them sing the birthday song to you. You were supposed to turn on the radio and dance around with your classmates, eat the sweets and unwrap the cheap, but heartfelt gifts they brought along with them to celebrate your birthday. 

But none of these scenarios were happening, and you felt incredibly, incredibly lonely and sad. Forgotten, if you will. Not cared for, definitely.

Hiding your face into your hands, you started to cry. This disappointment was too big for your small heart to take, and you no longer cared about the cake, the candles, the seaweed soup your mother cooked for you to celebrate, the gifts, or the party. All you wanted to do was hide in your room and never come out– something about the whole situation felt deeply embarrassing, and to this day, the moment before the whole day turned around still makes you feel a bit ashamed of yourself. 

Too busy crying, you didn’t notice your older brother watching you with big bambi eyes, a worried glance sent your way each time your sobs grew louder and louder. And maybe the boy only wanted to taste the cake (he’s been bugging your mum about it since the very morning, but he was always sent off with a scolding look telling him that he’ll get a slice when everyone arrives), but no matter what his true intentions were, his actions still managed to pull your seventh birthday party together in a way you never imagined.

The sound of the front door faintly resonated in your brain somewhere in the middle of your aimless sobbing, but you paid it no mind, thinking it was just Sunwoo going out to the yard to kick the ball. See, your older brother had never really known what to do when you cried growing up– it didn’t matter if he was the reason for your tears or if anyone else was. If he was the reason for your emotional outbursts, he tried to shut you up with his palm and get you to stop crying before his mother found out and gave him a scolding, but if someone else was, the small boy sometimes turned angry at the source. Kicking his classmate that once made a snarky comment about you and made you tear up or punching his friend when he was too harsh with you was all he knew to do in these situations, so he wasn’t the one to comfort you with words or hugs. It was only natural for him to escape in this situation.

You were brought to a state of shock and surprise when a hand landed on your shoulder, a familiar voice breaking you from your emotional turmoil.

“Why are you crying? We have to eat the cake!” you heard, your big, sad eyes meeting the small figure of the boy living next door, your brother nervously stepping from one side to the other right behind his best friend. “Can you light the candles, Mrs?” Eric politely asked your mum, pointing towards the cake waiting sadly at the coffee table, the figure of your mother leaving your side only shortly to get the matches from the kitchen and illuminate your face with the small flames.

Confusion mirrored your features as you watched your brother and his best friend sing the birthday song to you while your mum lit your candles, both boys clapping and dancing around, acting silly just to get a laugh from you. You didn't know how Eric got there, but you guessed there are some good sides to having him as your neighbor. The energetic boy did his best to brighten up your mood a bit, and when you blew out the candle, making a wish, Sunwoo even went as far as smashing your face into the cake to bring in the full birthday authenticity.

That got him a slap to the back of his head from your mother, as well as made you stand up from your position– no longer making you look like a disappointed bulk of pity– and chase him around the room, icing falling off your nose to the laminated floor. You got your revenge and smeared the chocolate all over his forehead (he let you chase him down only because it was your birthday and he really, really hated to see his sister cry, but he won’t ever tell you that) and as the three of you sat back down to the floor, watching your mother slice the cake and offer it to you on small white plates, you realized you suddenly weren't as sad anymore.

“What did you wish for?” Eric asked you, mouth full of cake and face messy with chocolate.

“I can’t tell you,” you hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Then it won’t come true.”

“You probably wished for that doll you saw in the store the other day,” Sunwoo snickered as he swallowed, having you glare at him and send a sharp kick to his shin, unwatched by your mother (thankfully), as the boy fought you back, having no mercy.

Music suddenly filled the room as Eric stood up and put the radio on, his 9 year old brain smart enough to know how the device worked, his small figure dancing away to the songs playing on the single radio station you could play without carefully sorting out the antenna so it faced the north, and truly, you didn’t know how it happened, but it had you standing up and dancing around, exactly how you'd imagined doing with your friends from school.

The day wasn’t ruined– quite the opposite, really. It was one of your favorite birthday parties, and ever since then, Eric was invited to every single one you had after. And while Sunwoo may act like he doesn’t hate anything more in this world than having a younger sister, every time you feel like a burden to him, you remember this very afternoon.

You will never tell anyone what you wished for that day– but just to let everyone in on the secret, 

it was to somehow, just like Sunwoo, find someone like Eric for yourself as well. 

JUNE OF 1999

Standing at the side of the pool, eyes squinting from the inevitable force of the sun, you’re starting to regret your decision of coming along just a little. See, you usually don’t protest whenever Sunwoo aggressively drags you around and brings you everywhere he’s supposed to, because even though you love to see your brother angry (especially when you’re the reason behind the emotion), you’d also hate to see him miss out, but now, as the scorching hot sun is having no mercy on every exposed inch of skin– and believe me, there’s a lot of it, since you’re wearing your swimming trunks– and the sweat on your forehead is no longer culminating in beads, but rolling painfully slowly down your forehead, you do admit you’d be a little bit happier in the shade of your little room than here, watching the guys play volleyball in the comfort of the freezing cold pool.

And as the only female around the house, you settle with the patriarchy and bring out a small folding chair and a camping table alongside with a big, sharp knife, struggling to hoist up the giant watermelon you got in a grocery store on your way to the beach house, with the intention of cutting it and serving it to the guys later. Who knows, maybe they’ll like you a little more after that. 

The knife sinks into the thick green skin of the watermelon easily, and so as you accompany yourself with the excited (and not so excited screams coming from the losing side of the game– mainly your brother himself), you cut up the fruit into halves, then quarters, and as you stare at the moon crescents settled on the camping table, you decide to play nice and cut up the fruit into smaller triangles as well, to really get on everyone’s good side.

The yearning for male validation awakes in a woman pretty early on in life. It’s an inevitable misfortune.

“Told you Sunwoo’s all talk but no game!” you hear Haknyeon yell out as the game seemingly ends, the younger boy lunging at him in the pool, fighting him for the truthful words. Glancing at the commotion, you notice the guys slowly getting out of the pool, making you heave out in victory– you’re finally gonna have your turn in the pool. Well, if they don’t decide to occupy it again before you even get a chance to get in.

“Y/N! You cut up the watermelon?” Eric asks a very obvious question, walking up to you with beads of water all over his half-naked body. His dark hair is damply sitting against his forehead, making him look like a wet puppy, but as the male gets closer to you, he drags his palm through the locks and pushes them back, revealing his forehead– a sight sweet to your eyes, but you refuse to pay it much attention in the heat of the moment. It’s just the sun making you delirious as the idea of finding him attractive flashes through your brain, that’s all. 

“I did! Take one,” you smile, watching as the rest of the guys walk over to your little stand– while also obnoxiously swatting out water out of their hair like dogs, refusing to use towels like normal people– and finally, there it comes: appreciative smiles appear on their faces as they each take a piece, biting down on the fruit with delighted sighs.

Sunwoo walks up to you with a surprised look on his face, sighing as he messes with your hair. “If I knew you’d be our servant, I wouldn’t have even minded you going in the first place.”

“You do something nice for people and they jump on the chance to exploit you,” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s just like you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“No, that’s just me having older brother privileges.”

“I hope you choke on that, you know,” you bite at him, pointing towards the piece of sweet watermelon in his hands, the smile on his face turning bitter. There’s a satisfied look on your face when your brother does, indeed, choke on a watermelon seed a few seconds later– and they say dreams don’t come true.

“You didn’t have to,” you hear Eric speak up from the other side, your head turning to face the male, his features appreciative and warm. “Thank you,” he beams. There’s redness on the tip of his nose and his forehead, signaling his quickly approaching sunburn, and you can’t help but laugh out at his clueless, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer self. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you in question.

“Nothing,” you peep, “you just look like you forgot to use sunscreen,” you mumble, watching as the male gasps and touches his face, a horrified expression overtaking him when the skin under his fingertips burns to the touch. 

“I didn’t forget! It must have rubbed off in the pool,” he mourns, “I must look stupid!” 

“Only a little,” you tease, a grin overtaking your features. See, there’s something about the fact that you’ve known Eric for the entirety of your whole life that makes you more prone to teasing him– you’re familiar with your dynamics and just how far you can go, so his next actions startle you just the tiniest bit as the male looks sternly at you, throwing the half-eaten watermelon slice to the camping table. You thought you had the risks calculated– apparently, you didn't.

“What did you say?”

Examining his features, seeing no signs of anger– just the stoic, fakely-offended face of your brother’s childhood best friend– you shrug. “That you look a bit stupid with your face like that.”

“Oh, okay,” he nods, “you’re going down for that.”

“What do you mea–”

Your words are cut short when the male lunges at you, his arms enveloping your thighs and holding you up. The contact of his cold skin from the pool and your heated figure makes goosebumps appear all over your body, your hands instinctively reaching around him to support yourself as he walks closer to the pool– his intentions are suddenly painfully clear and you start to panic. 

“This will teach you to respect your elders,” Eric huffs, the turquoise surface of the water slowly coming into your point of view.

“Stop! Stop-stop-stop,” you squirm, kicking your feet and trying to take down the predator, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, alright?”

The male takes a halt for a split second– making you foolishly believe he’ll let you off– before he breaks out into a devilish grin and continues to walk to the edge of the pool. “Too late.”

“Eric!” you scream, the volume of your voice resonating through the whole beach, your heart thumping wild against your ribcage with the awaiting process. You’re not even sure what you’re scared of anymore– you can swim and you bet the water will feel nice against the scorching sun– but still, you’re absolutely terrified as the male has no mercy on you, carrying you steadily towards the water. “At least let me tie my hair first! You can dump me in after, I promise,” you mourn, trying to buy yourself more time.

“Alright,” he nods, waiting at the very edge of the pool, leaving you to take the purple scrunchie off your wrist and gather your hair together, preparing to tie it into a bun so it doesn’t get in your way when you’re in the pool. The hair tie is just at the tips of your fingertips, the first loop over the hair ready to be done, when a scream cuts out of your throat.

The feeling of falling suddenly overtakes your body, leaving you no time to prepare yourself for the impact of the cold water against your skin and all up in your nose, since you didn’t pluck it when you were dumped into the pool. The fall only lasts a split second until you’re below the water, the force of it resonating in your ears, and when you finally act on your instincts and stand up in the pool (it wasn’t even that deep in the first place, only reaching to your upper stomach), you cough out all the water and pray to gods you don’t throw up chlorine into the freshly cleaned pool. After you’re done catching your breath and getting oxygen into your lungs again, you do your best at getting all the hair out of your face. 

There is laughter landing into your ears as soon as you manage to get all the water out of them by leaning your head to the side and violently slapping each one, and when your eyes look up, you see an amused Eric Sohn bending over in his waist at your disheveled appearance. 

Grunting and pointing a finger to the criminal that almost made you drown, you huff out. “I’ll kill you! Just you watch.”

Your scrunchie nowhere to be found, forever lost somewhere outside of the beach house, you think, as it flew off your hand in the impact of the attack, shock makes your figure shake alongside of the coldness of the water, making you audibly sigh. 

Yes. You do regret coming along just a little.

JULY OF 1999

Somewhere along the way, Eric Sohn starts acting as if he’s your second older brother. Sure, you’ve known the male your whole entire life and he’s seen you grow up, but it took him 17 years of your life to come to a point where he gives you equal amount of attention whenever he’s over at your house than he does to your brother, and even asks Sunwoo if you’re coming along with them whenever they leave to hang out somewhere else. It’s a change that comes naturally and slowly, and you welcome it unknowingly– the revelation shocks you on a hot summer day, though, when the idea finally comes to you in full force.

You would even argue and say Eric acts more like your brother than your actual sibling does– he asks if you’ve eaten and listens to you when you talk (which Sunwoo never does, well, except from when he’s arguing with you). Eric even compliments your outfits sometimes and lets you borrow his MP3 player from time to time– Sunwoo would never share his things with you, no matter how hard you pleaded and threatened to tell your mum. Yes, your brother's an adult and you’re one year away from becoming one– you still resolve your conflicts through your only parent, though. Some things, you never grow out of.

“I wanna try using the skateboard now, Sunwoo,” you order sternly when the boy finally reaches your destination. You’ve been sitting on the sidewalk for quite some time now, since your brother and his friend decided that they’re gonna try out their new skateboards on the hottest day of the year. Your town doesn’t have fancy skateparks and ramps like the ones you’ve seen in the music videos on TV, so you don’t really know what initially made the two buy those things, but you do admit that even driving up and down the road in front of your house does seem a little fun– so much you’d love to try it.

“What a shame we all wish for things we can’t have,” he shrugs ironically, shaking his head at you from his position above. The male reaches down for his bag, taking out a water bottle and putting it against his plush lips, all while you glare at him from below, still seated in your initial position. Eric comes up to you two, squishing at the soft plastic bottle in Sunwoo’s hold, making the water splash your older brother in the face, leaving a winning grin to be shared between you and the shorter boy, an expression that makes you all warm on the inside. See, at least Eric always has your back.

“You can try mine, if you want,” the latter shrugs, offering you a smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “why not?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just didn’t expect you to offer, since as you saw, my dear brother just refused when I asked…” you mumble, standing up from the sidewalk and taking the skateboard into your hand. Eric offers it to you with an outstretched arm and watches as you put the board on the floor, squinting at it with much examination.

“Do you know how to ride it?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head, “but I mean, if Sunwoo can do it, how hard can it really be?” you joke, seeing as the said boy glares at you, finally finishing his water and dropping the bottle to the ground. 

“I’ll remind you of that statement when you eat shit on the pavement,” he shushes you, rolling his eyes. 

Not paying more attention to the grumpy being that is your own brother, you relocate your attention back to the skateboard on the heated road. You’re lucky you live on a street where cars don’t often drive by, since your neighborhood is on the very edge of the town, so you don’t really fear being run over by a pickup truck. What you do worry about, though, is your lacking sense of balance, which you discovered when you learned how to ride the bike for the first time. While your brother was a professional in no time, it took you weeks to get it right, and so with the idea of riding a board that provides you zero sense of security, you get a bit worried for your own life.

Dragging your hair out of your face and aimlessly trying to tuck it behind your ears– there’s no use in trying though, as the strands slip out just as fast as they found their place– you keep staring at the board only a few centimeters away from your feet, mentally calculating your next move. There’s a noise of a backpack being opened and rustling around in the background of your miserable thoughts, and when you look up to see what’s going on, you notice Eric offering you a small, purple bundle of fabric. 

“What’s that?” you ask, even though the answer is clear as the day– you recognise your own scrunchie with no problem. You’re just surprised to see it in his hold. You thought it was forever buried somewhere in the beach house, since you weren’t able to find it after you got out of the pool, no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh,” he shrugs, amidst a little too nonchalantly, “I found it and figured it was yours, but I forgot to give it back to you then… it seems like you need it now, though,” he offers you an explanation, lips pressed into a thin line that slightly signifies a smile.

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding as you take the hair tie out of his outstretched palm, gathering your hair into a bun and tying it up on the crown of your head– the staring contest you’ve been having with the board is much clearer now, when you don’t have your messy strands in the way. The idea of Eric keeping your scrunchie after finding it at the beach house makes your stomach do a weird kind of turn– you guess it made you a bit weirded out, if you’re being honest.

“Want some help with that?” he asks, pointing towards his skateboard.

Nervous, cracking your knuckles as you meet his eyes– he looks a bit amused, but still genuine– you nod, admitting defeat. There’s no way you’re getting on top of that board without help and not falling down. It’s always better to be safe than to be sorry, and so when Eric laughs airly at your composure and takes a few steps closer towards you, you let the male lead you, finding comfort in his secure words and actions.

Eric offers you his arms to hold when you try to get on the skateboard. He is peering at you from under his eyelashes when you put one of your legs onto the wood, his grip on your forearm getting firmer when you try to get your other foot on as well– and you must admit that you suddenly don’t feel like you might die anymore when there’s someone holding you and standing by your side. 

“See? It’s not that hard,” Eric mumbles, his voice low and reassuring from the proximity. You notice your hands sweating a little when his palm envelopes yours– damn the sun and its unbearable heat making you embarrass yourself– but he doesn’t mention it as he firmly holds you and meets your eyes. “I’m gonna drag you around a bit so you get used to it before trying yourself,” he says before taking a few steps forward, preparing to be your own type of personal driver.

Having him instruct you and help you around makes you feel more comfortable on the board. Sunwoo would never do such a thing for you– he’d enjoy watching you fall down and break your neck and possibly die– so you’re more than happy to have someone in your life that takes care of you in ways your older brother refuses to. 

The skateboard moves forward a little, starting slow, but then picking up speed as Eric jogs a little, making you laugh at the action. He does not have to go above and beyond, but he still does– but you guess it’s good for him to let out his energy somewhere. After a while, he looks back at you and meets your eye with a warm gaze, making you nod at him reassuringly and hold up a thumb of the hand he’s not holding right now, signaling that you’re okay and enjoying yourself. That has the male let go of your hand and let you take the road with the laws of physics, moving forward by yourself with the force he created. 

It’s nice. It’s fun. 

Yes, you totally understand why Eric and Sunwoo wanted skateboards after seeing them on TV. Hell, you want one now.

“Try it yourself now!” Eric encourages you as the board naturally comes to a stop under you, and his smiling face is enough for you to take initiative and nod, relocating one foot off the wood and placing it on the floor, then kicking it and making yourself move on the simple vehicle.

A moment of surprise envelopes you like a warm hug when you manage to not fall off and keep your balance, the joy of it making you try to go faster on the board, kicking once, twice against the pavement with the sole of your old, beaten up shoe. “I’m doing it!” you yell, glancing back at Eric standing on the sidewalk, watching you with excited eyes. The male offers you a victorious holler, something that makes you break into a laugh, makes your confidence blossom in marvelous ways.

Confidence rises in you so much you try to take a U-turn and go back to your teacher– perhaps showing off that you really got the hang of it now, or something– but as you try to maneuver the board and turn right, there it comes: the moment where you realize that you were, once again, too overly-confident in your abilities that are, sadly, very poor. Your body sways from side to side, your poor balance laughs at you and points an accusing finger at your attempts, and, well, to put it frankly, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and the moment plays in slow motion as you lose the board from below your feet– the wood flying somewhere to the opposite side of the road, not at all where you meant to go in the first place– and your body inevitably comes crashing to the ground.

Awaiting the hard pavement meeting your nose and breaking it, you brace yourself with palms outstretched in front of you, the last remains of self-perseverance entering the sane parts of your brain in what you think are the last seconds of your miserable life. Another moment of surprise greets you when your yelp is muffled against something soft and your hands don’t hit the hard pavement, your ears filled with a grunt that belongs to another human swiftly chiming in and catching you before you fall.

Firm hands hold your waist– the touch somehow familiar, enveloping you in a strange sense of deja vu– and even though your body goes limp in terror, the male has you back on your feet in no time, his palms on the exposed skin of your stomach. The realization has you burning up as you look up and meet Eric’s eyes, gasping at the closeness of his face to yours. 

“You okay over there?” he asks as you unconsciously study his face– you never noticed his nose looked this nice up close– before you wake out of it and nod urgently, breaking away from his hold. You’re not gonna try to calculate the effort he must have put in just to chime in and catch you from where he was standing in such a short moment, but something about the passing thought of it has you weak in your knees from gratefulness. 

“Uhm- yeah,” you nod, kicking the pavement with your stained shoes, “I just… miscalculated my skills, that’s all,” you sheepishly hum, hearing the boy snicker at your shaken-up composure.

Watching him take off and retrieve his skateboard from where it wandered off against the curb– much to his golden retriever energy– you sigh and prepare to go sit back on the sidewalk, having enough of new experiences from the shock still lingering in your fingertips. You take a glance down the road, seeing your older brother cruising on the street– when and how he got there, you truly have no idea– when you hear Eric, who seemingly has different ideas for your next actions, call at you from the middle of the pavement.

“Where are you going? Come back!” he asks, having you look at him in surprise, mouth agape and eyes big, staring at him. He now has the board under his shoulder, but puts it back on the road and points at it, shrugging to himself. “I’ll push you down the road, it’s gonna be fun!”

“Eric, I’m literally going to die–”

“No, you’re not. Come on, I promise,” he says, but still, he doesn’t have you convinced. Your feet move against your best conclusions, though, and when you come to a halt right in front of your companion, he offers you a boyish grin. “Sit down on it, that way you’re more balanced. I swear you’re not gonna fall off, okay? I got you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” he nods, determined.

“Pinky swear,” you mumble, holding up your pinky finger– all thoughts of seeming childish pushed to the side in the desperate moment– and the male in front of you shakes his head in disbelief, breaking into a laugh.

“Cute,” he huffs, “yeah, okay. Pinky swear,” he nods, interlacing your pinky with his and bumping his thumb against yours, the seal foolishly making you feel more secure as you follow his order and take a seat on the skateboard, your hands gripping the bottom of the wood so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1–” he chants as he pushes you, two steady hands coming in contact with your shoulder blades, force making you move on the board, wheels taking you down with gravity. The sound of Eric’s shoes hitting the pavement fills your ears as you go faster, and as you finally get to the part of the hill that takes a downwards slope, he offers you a final push, sending you down the road. 

Wind makes your hair fly back, your surroundings blurring as you yelp and scream, but you can’t say you’re not enjoying the ride. Eric was right– it was fun, you liked it, and something about the gesture had you all warm on the inside. The breeze has you cool down a little in the summer heat, and the board continues to move even as you pass your older brother standing at the bottom of the slope, away from your trajectory. 

Body relaxing when the skateboard finally slows down, you let out a heartfelt laughter. Turning back and seeing Eric jog down the road with a humongous grin on his face, you offer him two thumbs up above your head, watching as he returns the gesture and makes his way back to the two of you on the bottom of the small hill.

The truth is, this was the day you realized Eric Sohn has always found his way to make you feel included and safe. 

You can’t help but feel grateful.

AUGUST OF 1999

“Sunwoo, you have to tie a knot here and then– no, you dumbass, you’re doing it completely wrong,” you mourn as you watch your older brother with a mess of thread in his lap, a focused scowl on his face. There’s a fan standing across from you, blowing cold air into your face, but you still feel yourself grow heated with frustration as Sunwoo just can’t help but not understand the art of making friendship bracelets. It’s not like you’re forcing him to do them– he was the one that asked you to show him how to, muttering something about offering one to his classmate Yeji once he’s back in school– so in theory, he should be putting in effort, no? 

Or maybe he is. Maybe he’s just… incompetent.

“I don’t get it,” Sunwoo hums under his breath, sighing as he leans against the sofa in your living room, the two of you sitting on the floor accompanied by his best friend squinting at you from the opposite side, a comic book in the latter's hand. The myth of men not being able to multi-task is quickly thrown into the bin as you watch Eric pay equal amount of attention to the comic book and the dialogue between you and your brother, and when Sunwoo seems to give up on the art of making friendship bracelets, his best friend can’t help but laugh.

“You’re giving up already? This is how you want to get a girlfriend?” you poke your brother to his side and take the threads off his lap, examining the mess of a safety pin and meters of yarn, all knotted up and not coming along in the shape you taught him to at all.

“It’s not to get a girlfriend, I just-”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, huffing as you roll his poor attempt at friendship bracelet into a ball and throw it to the corner of the room, making a mental note to pick it up and throw it to the bin later. “You know what, just give her this one and pretend you made it,” you mutter, taking a bracelet you'd already made to demonstrate in between your fingers and throw it into Sunwoo’s lap, the older one catching it and examining it under his nose.

“That looks pretty good,” he hums, making you snort at his appreciative comment. The bracelet is pink and red, the colors just screaming romance and cute energy, which is exactly what a girl needs to be swayed by your brother. You can’t really believe a bracelet will make her swoop into his arms, because truthfully, with your brother’s face and manners, every living thing is keeping a fair distance, but hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, does it? Maybe his classmate is… majorly blind? That might do it?

“Of course it looks good,” you scoff, “that’s because I made it,” you nod, averting your gaze towards your lap, threading your fingers through the yarn you attached to a safety pin on your sweatpants to keep the growing friendship bracelet in place. 

“Then why is the one you’re making right now so ugly?” Eric asks, pointing towards the creation. 

Glancing up at the male slowly, mentally throwing all different kinds of curses at him for daring to talk badly about your craft, you huff. “What do you mean, ugly?”

“The colors… they don’t… they don’t really go together,” Eric sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck, quickly averting his gaze from you and gluing it back into his comic book. You think that if he doesn’t stop being a smart-ass and throw jabs at your artistic choices, he’s gonna have to protect his comic book with his own body– and you bet he’d do that, because he borrowed it from the library. The fees for damage are high.

“That’s just… not true at all,” you muse, but groggily take a look at the creation once again, but now, thanks to the remark, seeing it in a completely different way. Shades of orange, brown and purple stare back at you amidst a little disappointedly, and as you thread the yarn and make a couple of knots to end the bracelet, you can’t help but feel a pout growing on your face from the realization. Eric might be right. It does look a little bad…

“Whatever. Your taste is just bad,” you snap as you finish off the craft piece, unclasping the safety pin and sliding the bracelet off the inside, freeing it from the hold. Eric laughs a little at your frustrated state– similarly to what you do when you manage to get Sunwoo upset– and with that, you sigh and put the bracelet on the coffee table.

“I’m going out to the store to get some chocolates,” you say as you stand up, goal clear in your mind, “have fun, losers.”

“You’re still collecting the stickers from these?” Sunwoo asks, a mischievous smile growing on his lips. The teasing is inevitable and coming very soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it– you’re fully aware, which only further makes you want to escape the situation more quickly. Rolling your eyes at your brother’s antics, you move towards the door. 

“Yes, Sunwoo, I am. They’re cute and make me happy, do you have a problem with that?” you point an accusing finger at the male, having him shrug, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“You’re such a kid,” he huffs, averting his gaze from you when he lands the comment, the jab coming straight at your fragile heart.

“Okay, then,” you note, “I’ll just have my pretty and cute bracelet back, and you can get your girlfriend something else-”

The male quickly regains his previous composure, swatting his hands in hurry just to make you halt in your sentence. His eyes are big and his mouth is a little agape in terror as he tries to save his ass, plea written all over his face. “I was just joking! Don’t be so petulant… go get your cute stickers, they’re so fun!”

Humming to yourself, your face is tugged up into a victorious smile. “That's what I thought. So, as I was saying, have fun, losers.”

“Wait!” Eric suddenly calls for you, making you turn on your heel in the middle of your escape, eyes peering at the male. “Don’t I get a bracelet too?”

The request catches you off guard. There’s a certain kind of spark in Eric Sohn’s eyes as he asks the question, and you can’t really place it in any category, but it has you nervously shrugging at the preposition. You’re not really sure why Eric would want a bracelet from you, but to avoid confrontation and also the weird leap of your heart surely leading you into cardiac arrest, you only shrug and move back inside of the living room, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you scan the surroundings, searching for something.

“Sure,” you nod, taking the ugly bracelet off the table and offering it to him, “you can have that one.”

You hold a staring contest with the older boy for a couple of seconds, his head undoubtedly swirling with arguments and comments about the apparel of the friendship bracelet, but he’s smart– he must know the survival of his beloved comic book must be at stake. So, he only nods and smiles at you, outstretching his hand to you and nudging his head in its direction.

“Okay,” he hums, “tie it for me?”

A second comes by– a heartbeat, really– in which you chew on your bottom lip and gasp at the request, but still, you nod and come closer, crouching down to be at his level and taking the thread into your fingers. You wrap the bracelet around his wrist, making sure to leave a bit of wiggle room before you tie a knot, bringing the ends together, all while feeling the eyes of Eric glued to your face, watching every micro expression flash through your unsettling composure.

When you’re done, making a move to hide your hands behind your back and standing up, your limbs bump into each other and send an unspoken sense of electricity all through your body. The sensation is so strange you don’t meet anyone’s eye before you leave the room, yelling out a goodbye as you hurriedly open the front door and run out to get fresh air (it’s August, though. The air is humid and only makes your head spin more).

You clear your throat before you take off to the grocery store. It's only when you're halfway there that you realize you'd forgotten to bring your wallet with you. It's okay, though– you take this chance to walk around, regaining your casualty.

You bet Eric will take the bracelet off in a matter of a week.

SEPTEMBER OF 1999

The leaves start turning orange and the weather a bit colder when you become hyper-aware of your shifting composure whenever Eric Sohn is around. The way you feel heat rushing to your cheeks whenever he calls you cutie, a nickname he’s had reserved for you since you two were little kids, the way you feel weak in your knees whenever he casually brings his arm around your shoulders or when he bends down to tie your shoelace in the middle of the sidewalk. You don’t really know what those sudden changes are, yet, you feel a bit embarrassed by them whenever they take place. You don’t think it’s normal to feel this way around your brother’s best friend, and the more you hang out with him, the more you wish you read less books as a child– because now, you’re also hyper-aware of the title those feelings may have. 

Still, it only comes to you on one September afternoon– you wake up from blissful unawareness and jolt with the quickly opening pit in your stomach at the strange revelation.

“Eric! Sunwoo isn’t home, though?” you mumble, confused as you notice the boy standing on your doorway, a plastic bag in his hand and a red Nike jacket enveloping his frame.

“I know, he said he’s hanging out with Juyeon hyung today,” he nods, “I brought you something, though,” he says, holding up the bag and making sure you get a chance to see it, offering you a boyish grin.

“Oh?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows at the male. When you do nothing to invite him inside, he does so himself– slightly nudging you in your side as he passes your figure and enters your house. He acts like he owns the place, and by the amount of time he’s spent in your home, you’d think he does– he doesn’t, though. The only thing he owns is just a lot of audacity.

The male takes off his shoes in the entryway and walks his way over to your room– a surprising act, considering he’s spent the least amount of time in this very place– and when he’s sure you’re following his every move, he empties the contents of the bag to the middle of your freshly made bed. Watching as approximately ten items fall out of the plastic, your eyes widen with surprise as you recognise your favorite chocolate– the mini bars with stickers inside, the ones you collect and stick into your journal and look at in the middle of the night, giggling to yourself and kicking your feet at the adorable pictures in your make-shift collect book.

“Woah,” you gasp when the male looks at you, seemingly awaiting your response, and when he gets the wished outcome, pride overtakes his features, shrugging to himself.

“My mum got some for free because she bought a lot of cabbage for kimchi yesterday,” he explains, “I thought of you when I saw them, so I bought you some more.”

“I- you-” you stutter, emotions too big for your own good swelling all inside your fragile, little self, hands running into your hair and tugging at the roots to wake yourself up from the dream. “You didn’t have to!”

“We got them anyway, and I know you like the stickers,” Eric shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, completely ignoring the fact that he said he bought you some more, your heart skipping a beat at the sentiment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively take a step closer to your bed, gathering a bar of chocolate into your hand and opening it, taking a bite.

“You can have the stickers if you give me some chocolate,” Eric says close to your ear, almost as if he was creating a masterplan, to which you eagerly nod and plop onto your bed, moving the bars of sweets into one pile. As you continue to munch on the first one, you unwrap the sticker and look at it, praying to yourself as if you were checking if your lottery ticket was worth any cent– hoping you get a sticker you don’t own yet.

The image of a cute panda would cheer anyone up even in their darkest moments– not you, though, as you mourn and sigh, disappointment clear in your features. 

“What?” Eric asks, eyes big pools of worry.

“I already got that one.”

“Ah,” he nods, seemingly understanding– much to your surprise, “well, we got 9 more tries, let’s get to eating.”

Wrappers are rustling in your bed sheets as you and Eric eat the concerning amount of chocolate, gathering the stickers in a little pile on top of your notebook, promising each other to not look at the stickers as you go and just make a grand reveal at the end. Eric’s full cheeks are a sight you enjoy, telling him he looks like a squirrel– to which he sends a light flick to your forehead, telling you you don’t look much different– and soon enough, the nine bars left disappear from your plain sight (you only had 3 and Eric ate the remaining 5. He’s a growing boy, though, so you understand. He needs to get his undying energy from somewhere.).

“Ready for the reveal?” you ask, locking your gaze with Eric.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, you get to the pile of stickers in the middle of your bedsheets. Looking at the first one, there’s a happy squeal cutting out of your throat, the image of an adorable yellow duck warming you up with euphoria. 

“You don’t have that one yet?”

“I don’t,” you nod, “this is just perfect.”

Eric nods and watches you with a certain kind of warmth in his gaze as you open up your notebook and stick the newest addition to your little sticker farm– or a ZOO, however you wanna call it. The next sticker from the pile is added as well– a brown, big bear– and the next one too, the most adorable colorful parrot slapped to the corner of your page. 

The rest of your stickers are the ones you already own, though– a displeased look takes over your features at the knowledge, but still, you can’t help but beam at the fact that you have 3 new additions to your collection, and they were a gift from Eric Sohn himself. Someone who doesn’t make fun of your childish habit. Someone who feeds your little interest, watches you with excitement in his eyes as you indulge. Someone not like your brother. 

Someone you could never see the way you see your brother.

“What do you do with the duplicates?” Eric asks, pointing to the sad pile on the top of your notebook. His figure is closer to you now, since he wanted to watch you stick the animals into your notebook, his crossed legs almost pressed against yours on the small bed.

“Well, usually, I just throw them out,” you shrug, “but since you’re here…” you muse, the idea plopping into your head like the newest discovery you should probably patent, peeling the back of one of the dog stickers off and swiftly turning towards your companion, mischief sparkling in your eyes.

You put the sticker on his left cheek, making the boy jump. “Hey!”

Giggling, taking another one of the stickers and pressing it to the middle of his forehead, Eric starts to fight you, your bodies wrestling on the bed. You don’t think he puts much effort into getting you off him– that, or he’s insanely weak– and in no time, his face is adorned with all different kinds of animals, his hair messy from tussling in your bedsheets. The image has you laughing before you realize you’re basically straddling him on your bed, his big eyes gaping at you from below, his appearance enough to make something in your brain short-circuit and make you leap off him, clearing your throat.

Heat rushes into your cheeks as you take a seat next to him, playing with your fingers. You pray for anything to come and ease the awkwardness you caused, and sure enough, today must be your lucky day. “Hey, look here!” 

You call for the boy as you swiftly take your polaroid camera off your bedside table– the one that belonged to your dad, the one you fought with Sunwoo about, the one your mum said was yours because Sunwoo is too careless with his things to keep it safe– and snap a picture of the puppy-like boy, laughing at the fact that now, you have the image of him looking dumb and covered in stickers forever. Or at least until he doesn't take it away from you– which he attempts quickly.

“Hey!” he yelps again, huffing as he lunges at you, trying to take the picture out of your grasp as you drop the camera into your soft sheets. Your feet take you to the living room, navigating through furniture, and when you don’t hear footsteps follow you, you think you’re safe– Eric does have a lot of energy, but chasing you around gets tiring for him quickly when he knows you'll never let him win.

Entering your room once again, prepared to find him on your bed like before, you’re taken by surprise as a shutter sound goes off right after you open the door, a polaroid picture taken of your face making you temporarily blind at the flash.

“Eric!” you whine, hating that there’s a picture of you standing shocked at your doorway now forever in the universe– not really caring that the boy just got you back with the exact stunt you pulled on him just a few minutes ago. Before you get a chance to blink out the blind spots in your vision caused by the flash and run after him, though, you feel him gently press you out of the doorway and slip outside, the sound of the front door opening and closing after him resonating along his slowly disappearing, amused laughter.

Serves you right, doesn’t it? 

Sighing, you shake your head and take a seat on your bed, the picture of the boy still in between your fingertips. You only take a look at it when your vision comes back to normal, and as the image of Eric covered in stickers, hair messy and cheeks rosy below the animal print comes into your sight, the revelation arrives the same second a starstruck smile plays with your features.

And with that, you’re absolutely terrified. 

Throwing the polaroid picture onto the bedside table and lunging yourself into the sheets, you scream into your pillow and wish for the feelings to disappear– because in what world does a crush on your brother’s best friend ever come to a happy ending?

OCTOBER OF 1999

Once October hits, you find yourself home alone more often than you’d like. Sure, you don’t mind having some me time to read comic books or watch the TV uninterrupted in the living room, but still– alone turns lonely pretty quickly, and somehow, you start to regret the fact that you’ve been relying on your older brother and his friends for so long instead of making some connections on your own.

Sunwoo started to play soccer at school– something is telling you that he might go far if he keeps it up– and that’s why he’s been stuck at practice every single day, coming home late in the evening all tired, but happy, so you’re not really complaining. Eric works in the little bistro downtown now, since he wanted to make some money and not rely on the allowance Mrs. Sohn gives him every month, and it’s not like you were that close to begin with, but the fact that the boy is now too busy to meet you is making your spirit fall just the tiniest bit. And with your mother always being at work, you find yourself alone in your room, laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling. 

Sometimes, you journal. About anything and everything, really. You don’t really think you’re ever gonna read back the entries once you’re older, since they would just be a reminder of how miserable and boring your teenage years really were, and that’s why you allow yourself to be authentic. On most days, you write about your assignments for school. Sometimes you bad mouth a classmate or two– gossiping with the diary pages, because you don’t really have any human beings to do so in real life– and seldom, you allow yourself to get into topics that evoke the slightest bits of existential crisis in you.

Topics like college. Growing up. Your lack of hobbies and social interaction with the outer world. The newly found crush on Eric Sohn…

Okay, maybe you do write about the boy with brown hair and dark eyes a little too often. You can’t help it, though– when he’s not giving you any new interactions to dwell on, you have to just pick apart the old ones. You think it’s a natural reaction.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing one October afternoon, the lamp in your room on, since the evening comes faster when the weather is colder, as you’re laying in your bed and kicking your feet back and forth, chewing on the end of your pencil. The sound of your doorbell resonates through the house suddenly and startles you, making you jump awake from your delirious delusions.

Mentally going through the list of possible visitors you could have– because it can’t be your mother or your brother, since they never forget to carry their house keys– you’re lost, not really finding any fitting candidates. Furrowing your brows, lost in thought and frankly, a bit confused, you plant your socked feet onto the wooden floor and walk over to the front door just in time for the bell to ring again. Scratching the back of your neck in nerves, thinking of precautions you could take for your own safety– since your front door doesn’t have a peep hole and you don’t want to open the door to a complete stranger– you clear your throat and yell over the door.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“Delivery!” a voice calls through the door, making you huff. 

“I didn’t order any food?” you yell back, confused. “Sir, there’s another house behind ours, sometimes the mailmen get confused and we get their mail. Maybe try there?” 

“The address is right, though?” the voice calls again, and somehow, it sounds kind of familiar… no, it can’t be, you dumb goose. You’re just imagining things because you’ve spent the last 20 minutes writing about the curve of his nose into your diary.

“There must be a mistake-”

“Come on, Y/N, open the door,” the voice on the other side mourns, the mention of your name making you jump, completely startled. The tone the man says it in is sweet like honey, though, so familiar in your ears, that you mentally want to slap yourself– so you weren’t dreaming. It is him.

Dragging your hand through your hair to smooth it down, praying you look at least a little presentable– although in your stained sweatpants and the Pokémon shirt you inherited from Sunwoo when he grew out of it, you doubt that’s even possible– you open the door and try to offer Eric a warm smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Food delivery,” Eric shrugs, pointing with his thumb in the direction behind his back, where his bike undoubtedly stands up against your gate.

“Oh…. but I already told you I didn’t order anything,” you mumble, confused. Studying his face– because a girl can indulge when she has the opportunity, am I right? – you notice his hair has grown a little longer, falling into his eyes. You bet it’s hard for him to see, but you must admit it looks nice, and you almost tell him, before you catch yourself and break away from the sentiment. 

The male snickers. “I know, I was just joking,” he says, “I did bring you food, though.”

“Why?” you ask, confused when he bends over and picks up a plastic bag off the ground, a container of food inside, the warmth of the contents making condensation appear all over the red sack. 

“We made this by mistake and it was just gonna be thrown out if nobody took it,” he shrugs, “and I figured you haven’t eaten yet– or if you did, you just had those cold kimbap rolls from the store– and I wanted to get some warm food into your stomach.”

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding at the explanation. It does explain the source of the food really well, but truthfully, it explains nothing about the fact why Eric thought of bringing you the food instead of taking it home with himself– he’s a foodie if you’ve ever seen one. The idea of him worrying about if you were fed or not is equally as strange and interesting in your head– still, you clasp your hand around the bag and take it, the smell making you involuntarily hungry. “Thank you.”

Eric only nods at you, a smile beaming at his face. “Well,” he sighs, “I’d love to stay longer and hang out, but I’m still on the clock, so…” he mumbles, taking a hesitant step backwards towards his bike, eyes never breaking contact with yours.

“Oh, right,” you nod, “that’s okay. Have a fun day at work!” you muse, watching him as he grins and finally retrieves back his bike, opening up the gate to your property and escaping, waving at you as he gets on.

“I’ll see you soon!” he calls as he rides off, your eyes following him until his figure disappears behind a corner, your ears buzzing with excitement and your lower lip trapped between your teeth with the innocent promise.

Walking back into the house, you grin as you close the front door behind you and carry the food into the kitchen. You quickly get the containers out of the damp bag, putting them onto the wooden table, and gasp when you find a sticky note on the very top one, a messy handwriting scribbled in a rush, but stuck to the food with care.

Eat well and don’t skip meals, Y/N-ie!! – Eric x

Not being able to battle your smile anymore, you decide to open up the containers and stuff your mouth with the food instead– only to find your favorite dish inside, staring back at you in what seems to be a dream that’s too good to wake up from. 

And sure, you are delusional, but are you delusional enough to believe that this wasn’t all a coincidence? You’re not so sure.

Still, you eat the food with feet kicking back and forth as you sit in the silent kitchen, the empty house no longer feeling so lonely. When you’re done, you throw the trash out– everything but the sticky note, which you glue into your diary a few minutes later, hoping to keep the memory forever.

NOVEMBER OF 1999

The world around you is dark as you step outside of cram school, your eyes are tired and your skin is prickled with goosebumps in the chilly air. You despise going to cram school, but your mother told you you have to– since you didn’t have any athletic features that could get you far in life like Sunwoo, you had to be good at studying, or else you won’t get into university. There was a lot of work ahead of you, but since you didn’t really have anything else to do in the day, you didn’t protest and went anyway.

The days are usually very long and you get off very late, resulting in you being tired almost all the time. When you get home, you undress yourself and change into your sleep clothes and doze off until the morning, when you have to wake up and go to school again– it’s an exhausting cycle, but you know you have to endure it for your own sake.

Walking down the steps that lead out the cram school building, you stretch your body and huff, cursing at yourself for the fact that you didn’t bring a jacket– you forgot that evenings get really chilly, and frankly speaking, you didn’t have much time to think when you were rushing to get ready in the morning. You’ll just have to get through it, you think to yourself as you walk in the direction of your house– the last bus to your neighborhood already left an hour ago, when you were in the middle of revising division– your sneakers kicking the stray rocks below your feet as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie lower, desperately trying to feel more heat.

“Do you never watch where you’re going? That’s gonna get you in trouble one day, you know,” you hear a familiar voice say, the joking tone making your heart skip a few beats as you place the owner of the saccharine voice to its face. Looking up, slightly alarmed at being caught in such a distressed state, you gasp.

“I was… watching my step, I guess,” you shrug as you come into a halt in front of him, shivering both under Eric’s gaze and the cold weather at once. “What are you doing here? Deliveries?”

“I just got off,” he says, “so I figured I could stop by. Sunwoo said you’re going to cram school, I thought you might enjoy some company on your way home.”

Gaping at his explanation, you nod, completely startled. The idea of your brother talking about you in front of Eric, the boy you have a very embarrassing, very big crush on scares you, to say the least. See, it doesn’t really matter that the boy grew up with you, pretty much seeing you at your lowest whenever he was around over at your house when you were both just little kids– the image of Sunwoo telling Eric about finding you sobbing at your comic book (the scene got too sad, nobody can really blame you) or about how your favorite jeans ripped right before you had to go to school one morning is terrifying. You don’t really want him to know about these things. He may act like your brother sometimes, but you never really saw him in that light in the first place.

“Well, then,” you clear your throat, “it’s… it’s good to see you,” you say. Eric shows you his boyish grin as your lips utter out the words, and you can’t help but mirror it, your eyes locking with the male. As if you just took a step back, your eyes see him in a light you’ve never seen him before– as if this was your first time meeting your brother’s best friend– and something about the sentiment has your stomach feeling all uneasy, heat rushing to your face. His hair is styled in a way that tells you that he didn’t really style it (or if he did, it looked truly effortless in your eyes, so props to him), pushed back a little and revealing his forehead, a few of the strands carelessly falling into his eyes. His jawline is sharper than how it was when you first met the boy, and with the realization of a foolish teenage girl, you have to admit that Eric Sohn grew up to be a very attractive, attentive man.

“You’re cold?” he says, although the sentence sounds more like a statement rather than a question, before he shakes his head at your antics and heaves out a sigh. “You should’ve taken a jacket with you when you went, you know it gets cold in the evening,” he scolds you. In those times, he reminds you the most of your brother– because although you and Sunwoo act like you hate each other sometimes, you know the older male still cares about you. He just hates showing it, which translates in his scolding tone whenever you do something wrong or against his wishes. 

In those times, Eric reminds you the most of the way your brother treats you, and you somehow hate it. You despise the fact, because that means he must only see you as someone like his younger sister– he never had one, so maybe he just likes to compensate for it by taking care of you all the time. Maybe he feels responsible to do so because of Sunwoo. The thought makes you equally as nauseous– you’d never want him to hang out with you just because he feels like he has to. 

“I didn’t have time in the morning,” you grunt, rolling your eyes at him. You avert your gaze from the male, for it makes you slightly uncomfortable after your previous thoughts, so when the noise of a zipper being pulled down and the weight of fabric on your shoulders brings you back to reality, you snap your head around at him all alarmed. 

“What? Wear it,” he says, head shrugging towards the direction of his jacket on your figure. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t.”

Trying to wrestle out of the red material, you squirm in the hold of the windbreaker– Eric’s hands gripping each side of the jacket, as if predicting your next moves, making sure it stays on you and doesn’t fall down. His strong arms tug you closer to him to make your fight more difficult– and he’s successful with his efforts, because the proximity of him and his smell engulfs you and unarms you, heat rushing to your cheeks as you halt in your movements.

“Stop,” you mourn, “I don’t need it.”

“Yes you do,” he insists, “so stop being a baby about it and wear it.”

Staring into his eyes, as if to mentally tell him to stop what he’s doing– to stop how he’s treating you, how he’s making you all weak in your knees and sleepless at nights because of how much you think of him and hope he’s doing well each day, to stop being so gentle with you and taking care of you, because it brings all sorts of both doubts and delusions into your head– but he doesn’t back down. You’ve known him for quite some time, you should already be aware of just how stubborn he can be.

“Arms in,” he hums, holding on to the jacket and waiting for you to wear it properly. One thing about you– you can always admit your defeat. So, with a sigh, you put your arms through the sleeves of Eric’s red windbreaker, shrinking a little under his firm gaze. He looks at you with a look full of something you can’t decipher, and it’s all making you so, so insanely lost in the many thoughts and feelings swirling around your head, not helping your current state.

“I already have a brother, y’know,” you mumble in a moment of weakness, looking at your feet– your dirty white sneakers almost touching his from how close you are standing right now, “so you should stop treating me like one.”

A moment of silence overtakes you two, and you suddenly feel like you’ve done something wrong. Still, Eric’s hands are holding on to the sides of the opened jacket, keeping you close to him. “Hm?” 

Clearing your throat and shaking your head, you snicker to yourself. “Forget it.”

“No- I mean,” he blurts out, tone of voice a little nervous, “do you see me as your brother figure?” he asks, tone of voice more quiet now, more gentle.

Breathing in the crispy air, taking a moment before you reply, you shake your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “no, I don’t. I- I don’t think I do,” you say, scared of what your answer will bring out of him. You don’t really know why, but at this moment, you feel insanely fragile– as if any bad move could make you break in his hands, waiting for him to glue you back together. 

Metaphorically, he does just that. “Good,” he nods, leaning down towards you, hands gripping the zipper of his jacket and zipping it together, making sure no cold can get to your bones as his fingers tug it up towards the very top, under your chin. “Because I’ve never seen you as my sister either.”

His answer once again startles you– but when you take a step back from the situation, you think it was in a good way. His hands grip your shoulders for a second as his eyes meet yours and he offers you a warm smile. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he says, tugging you towards the fence where you find his bike, his motions guiding you like a rag doll sucked out of all life.

“Hop in,” he motions towards the back of the bike, where the basket would usually be– Eric moved it towards the front, though, leaving enough room for you to sit at– and as you do, he takes a seat in front of you and looks back at you over his shoulder. “Hold on tight so you don’t fall.”

Like in a trance, your arms sneak around his middle– this was the first time you had this kind of physical touch with him, and just the thought of it makes you want to scream your throat out– before the male takes off on the bike, riding towards your neighborhood. With the cold wind slapping your face, you foolishly rest your cheek on his shoulder blade and close your eyes, enjoying the closeness of his body keeping you warm. 

If anyone asked you about the action, you’d tell them you were just tired.

DECEMBER OF 1999

Socked feet make their way through the room, the sound of footsteps resonating on the laminated floor, as the short male comes up to you with a bowl of potato chips in his right hand and a bottle of soda under his left arm. Eric Sohn sighs at you, shaking his head in disbelief, before he places the items onto the coffee table and takes a seat next to you on the floor, opening up the bottle and pouring the three of you drinks.

“Can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you losers, of all people,” Eric snickers, having you roll your eyes at the male and grumpily furrow your eyebrows at his sentence.

“No one’s stopping you if you wanna go, y’know,” you grunt as you take the filled glass off the table, taking a sip of the sweet drink and sighing at him. If he’s gonna take a leap into the new year with you while making you annoyed, he may as well leave now and do whatever his initial plan was– once again, no one’s stopping him if that’s what he wants to do.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it would’ve been so much more fun if we all went to Juyeon hyung’s. Everyone’s there celebrating, but we’re stuck here in your room.” 

“Well, Eric,” your brother smiles ironically at him, shrugging to himself, “it’s not like it’s my fault you’re not over at Juyeon hyung’s right now. You chose to spend the new years here with me. My mother prohibited me from going there, not yours.”

The argument has the male shrug, his eyes averting your brother’s gaze once his comment gets a bit too honest and realistic. It’s true and he’s right– it’s not like Eric’s mum told him he can’t go celebrate with his friends, because she didn’t. Eric’s mum trusts him and wants him to have fun and do what all the kids his age are doing. Your mum, on the other hand, is making you and Sunwoo stay home for New Year’s Eve to celebrate with your family, because, as she quoted, New Year’s Eve the only time she gets time off work, and she wants to spend it with her kids– forget the fact that you’re currently sitting locked in your room with your friend, protesting the family time just because you can– and when Sunwoo told her she has to stop treating him like a little kid, she told him she has all the right to do so, because he is her kid. And that’s how the party he was supposed to attend with Eric (the party you foolishly thought you’re gonna have to tag along to, not hating the sentiment as much as before now) got canceled from your brother’s plans.

“Well,” Eric chews on the inside of his cheek, “I did it for you two. Be grateful.”

“Whatever,” you hum, “let’s turn on the TV. I bet there’s some variety show on.”

Eric heaves out a sigh as he reaches for the TV remote, clicking the power button and making the boxy device in front of you light up. Your mum got you a TV in your room when you complained about being too bored one November day, and although the box of entertainment didn’t really help like you imagined it to, you’re glad it’s of service at least today. Instead of the expected variety show, though, there’s news on– the face of the old announcer looking at you with a serious look on his face, the professional tone making chills run down your spine, for he reminds you a bit of your mother when she scolds you. You think that’s a common news announcer trait. 

“As the year 2000 approaches, computer programmers realize that computers might not interpret the 00 in the software as 2000, but 1900. The softwares currently running only use a two-digit code for the year, excluding the 19. The data was excluded because the data storage is costly and takes up too much space. Activities that were planned on a daily basis could be damaged or flawed,” the announcer says, making the three of you look at the screen with interest. Maybe it’s true that when you get older, you get more interested in news– you think it’s good to know what’s going on around you, although the topic discussed right now might not even concern you in the slightest.

“Banks, which calculate the interest rates on a daily basis, could face real problems. Interest rates are the amount of money a lender, such as a bank, charges a customer, such as an individual or business, for a loan. Instead of the rate of interest for one day, the computer could calculate a rate of interest for minus almost 100 years!” 

“Oops,” Eric lets out next to you, a reaction so far away from what a real adult would think of the situation. See, you are all just kids, after all.

“Centers of technology, such as power plants, are also threatened by this issue. Power plants depend on routine computer maintenance for safety checks, such as water pressure or radiation levels. Not having the correct date could throw off these calculations and possibly put nearby residents at risk,” the announcer continues, the information coming out of his mouth suddenly making you hyper aware of the reality you’re experiencing right now.

“Do we have a nuclear power plant nearby?” you ask in a hushed whisper, watching as the men next to you almost comically widen their eyes, shrugging.

“I’m not sure,” Sunwoo peeps.

“The worst of all, this software and hardware issue could cause such a big problem in nuclear energy facilities, where nuclear bombs and missiles could be set off, causing the world to go into utter chaos, or worse, an end,” the announcer concludes, the last word making you gasp in terror. 

“An end?” you chirp, sitting up straight in your seat as you look at the two men, now equally as terrified. There’s something in Sunwoo’s gaze that makes chills run down your spine, the reality crushing down on you with heavy measures. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have fought with mum. What if the last words the two of us exchanged before we die are the harsh words I had said yesterday?” your brother mourns, seeing as his best friend chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought.

“What did you say to your mum?”

“That- that I’ll never forgive her for ruining this for me,” he mumbles, his voice breaking at the end, “and… other things,” he adds, the hint of incoming panic making his best friend frantically wave his hands around and try to make your brother relax before he has to deal with the breakdown. If the world is ending, this is not how any of you want to go.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Eric says, clearing his throat and pointing to the TV, “look! The show is on, we should watch before the year ends,” he proposes, taking the remote into his hand and turning the volume up to hopefully drown out Sunwoo’s thoughts and have him focus on something else. And it works– noting that your brother has an attention span of a 5 year old– he can hardly remember what he was worrying about just 30 seconds ago.

Still, the thought keeps bouncing around your head like a child in a bouncy castle. The words of the news anchor keep repeating in your brain, making your ears ring as you look at Eric from the corner of your eye, watching his angelic face. Oh how you hate disturbing the peace now that you’ve all calmed down– but still, you can’t deal with the worries alone. Checking the clock hung above the TV, noticing there’s at least 5 minutes left before midnight, you clear your throat, feeling your whole body on fire.

“Do you really think the world is gonna end?” you ask, cracking your knuckles in a nervous manner. Looking at Eric, pupils shaking, you find your brother’s best friend seemingly lost in thought. The music of the variety show program serves you three as a background sound now, none of you paying attention to the TV anymore, instead, focusing on all the things you've done wrong in your life and how somehow, this feels like karma for all of it.

“I dunno,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I mean- they said it’s possible! It was on the news, and they wouldn’t lie on the news…” he nervously mumbles, scratching the back of his head. 

“That’s what’s worrying me,” you sigh, “we shouldn’t have turned on the TV.”

“It was your idea in the first place!”

“And I’ll carry the burden into my grave,” you admit, gulping as you press a forced smile onto your lips.

Momentarily looking back at the TV, you desperately want to keep the thought of the world being over out of your head before you spend your last minutes on this earth going crazy– but now that you started, you can’t keep thinking about it. “Man, the world can’t end yet. There’s so many things I haven’t tried yet! I’m too young to die!”

The men don't reply to that– you presume they’re too busy trying to find other things to occupy themselves with instead of the inevitable– which has you dissatisfied as you throw your body back into the sofa, heaving out a sigh. Seconds go by painfully slow but also painfully fast at the same time, given the circumstances, as you listen to the cheerful song playing in the background and nudge your friend into his upper arm with your pointer finger, feeling his arm encircle your shoulders and pull you closer to him. The contact of his fingers on your upper arm makes you squirm and break out into a smile, feeling a particular lightness in your stomach at the action, a sensation that has you in shock. 

“I’m gonna talk with mum before we die,” Sunwoo suddenly calls as he stands up from his seat on the floor, sighing to himself, “I can’t go with the thought of her being upset with me,” he sentimentally adds before he’s out of the door, rushing towards the living room.

The space falls into momentary silence now that your brother is gone, having you chew on your bottom lip with nerves. You think now is the time to beg for forgiveness with the higher forces– I'm sorry for not studying well. I'm sorry for being rude and ungrateful towards my mum. I'm sorry for being greedy– when the sound of Eric’s voice resonates through the place as he speaks up again, waking you up from the anxious slumber, the clock now striking 2 minutes before midnight. “What would you wanna do before you die?” he asks.

The question is simple. You presume he wants simple answers– things like getting into college, getting a good job and making a lot of money, growing old– but as you lean away from him and get back to your place on his left, your eyes locked with his, you’re left clueless. There are so many things you have yet to achieve, and the idea of not being able to pushes a burden to your chest, but at this very moment, you can’t really name one. 

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes scan his face. His firm eye contact has you a bit flustered, making you shrivel in your seat, and as the sound of the TV morphs from the song into a countdown from 55, you’re overwhelmed with the thought that your friend is insanely pretty– and he always has been, you just hated admitting it to yourself for the past few months, despite still being fully aware– and that now, when the world ends, you’re dying unkissed and alone.

Well, not completely alone, since Eric’s here. And he’s always been here– your whole life, since you can remember, and he’s here now as well, even though he should’ve been at Juyeon’s house. As the clock strikes 30 seconds away from midnight, your eyes involuntarily travel down to his chapped lips, all air knocked out of your lungs, the thoughts in your brain picking up on speed the closer you come to the end.

You’re dying soon. You’re dying in 30- now 29 seconds, and you’ve never kissed anyone before. You’re dying before you get a chance to hold hands with someone and have a partner, and you’re dying before you get a chance to tell Eric how you feel about him. There’s 28 seconds left until the end and you’re just staring at him like a coward, because you don’t really let yourself indulge in the silly warmth of your heart whenever you’re around your friend, but god, you can at least admit it to yourself before you die.

And as the clock gets closer and closer to midnight, now only giving you 20 seconds before it all ends and a missile lands on the top of your house, blowing up the whole town and making you all disappear, Eric’s question repeats itself in your brain. What would you want to do before you die?

The answer is suddenly painfully clear as you take action– leaning towards the boy on your right, face closer to his than it’s ever been before, your eyes counting all his eyelashes and focusing on his surprised, yet unmoving face– and as you hear the countdown reach 15, you close your eyes and press your lips against his. 

The contact makes you weak in your knees as your hands reach to his face to steady him, your own firework show erupting in your stomach, and suddenly you’re completely content with dying tonight– because at least you’re with Eric, at least you did something. You kiss your friend with something close to an unsaid confession, your lips staying on his throughout the rest of the countdown, the taste of soda you’ve both been drinking the whole evening mixing in the contact of your skin. You’re not sure you’re even doing this right– again, you’ve never kissed anyone before– but it doesn’t matter to you much as you let go of your worries, aware of the fact that in a few seconds, nothing will matter anymore when neither of you are going to be around to say anything to each other after the kiss is over.

The countdown rings in your ears– coming down from 5 as you scoot yourself closer to Eric, 4 as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheekbones, 3 as you still in your movements, 2 as you notice your knees bumping into each other on the ground and finally, 1 as you get ready to die, kissing your first and only love– when the sound of cheers and fireworks from the TV fills your ears instead, the world around you stilling and completely unchanged.

Your kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000. Your love for him passed a century.

Eyes fluttering open and your mouth letting go of his, the image of the boy with his lips slightly parted, eyes closed and cheeks rosy comes to you in the yellow light of your room, making your heart fall down to your stomach. He looks absolutely angelic, his hair slightly messy and the fabric of his shirt a little disheveled in the front, and even though you’d love to indulge in your foolish desires and kiss him some more, you’re quickly taken aback with the noise of the door to your room opening and making you jump away from Eric, your brother appearing out of thin air in the presence of your room. It serves you like a weird kind of reality check, Eric’s eyes opening and looking at your brother, and even though you two haven’t been caught, the male clears his throat and bites down on his lower lip, looking almost guilty.

Oh no. What have you done?

Suddenly, you feel insanely silly.

JANUARY OF 2000

“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole day,” Sunwoo mumbles from beside you, his whole body engulfed in a pile of snow, “not that I care, but are you okay?”

“I thought you liked it when I don’t talk,” you mutter, playing with the frozen white all around you, seated on the red plastic sled at the top of the hill. You got tired after dragging it up from the bottom, and when you noticed that the rest of Sunwoo’s friends– Eric included– are still on their way up, you figured you could use up the time to relax and sit around for a while. It’s been quite some time since all of Sunwoo’s friends gathered to hang out at the same time, which made you surprised to see that your own brother invited you to tag along with them as they decided to go sledding on the second day of January, using up their break to best of their abilities. Which is also why you didn’t say no to the invitation– you thought sitting at home and moping around wouldn’t help you much.

“I do,” he says, nodding, “that’s why I’m asking what’s up– so I know what to do when I need to shut you up later,” Sunwoo hums, making you roll your eyes at the masked worry.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you scoff. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “so you’re just going through puberty?” he teases, to which you take a handful of snow into your palm and lunge the white at him, satisfaction running through your veins when the snowball lands into his unsuspecting face, the male coughing and swatting his arms around to defend himself.

“Hey!” your brother screams at you once he gets the ice out of his eyes and his mouth, his body jumping into a standing position before he chases you around, the bubble of a laugh escaping your throat for the first time these days– they’re not wrong when they say malicious joy is the best kind of joy.

Running at the top of the hill, not really looking where you’re going– instead looking over your shoulder to see Sunwoo’s actions, preparing yourself to duck if he decides to turn your small quarrel into a snow fight– your legs get tangled with the red sled you left before you started a war with the angered man, a yelp cutting out of your throat as you get prepared to fall over and knock your teeth out.

Your body comes in contact with something half-firm, half-soft, and as your feet slip and the snow-covered ground disappears from below your legs, two arms wrap around your waist and steady you, making sure you don’t get hurt.

Turns out Eric Sohn is there to catch you every time you are about to eat shit. You hate this kind of deja vu.

As you open your eyes (that you had closed on instinct, not wanting to see your own death) once you’re sure you’re safe and sound, the world around you invites itself into your ears in an overwhelming noise. The laughter of Sunwoo’s friends– some hollering at your fall, some at the redness and last remains of snow covering your brother’s face– and the hushed arguments over who’s going down first– with Haknyeon screaming that he’s stealing Sunwoo’s (yours) sled and Juyeon following him. After all those happening in the matter of a few seconds,  you realize you’re left on the top of the hill alone with the male, terror shaking through your insides.

Clearing your throat and taking a step back from him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and avert your gaze from Eric. You two haven’t spoken since you decided to kiss him on New Year’s Eve, and with the awkward tension in the air, you don’t feel like doing so ever again in your whole entire life. 

“Thanks,” still, you hum.

Eric seems a little more light-hearted than you, shrugging as he replies to you. “Haven’t I told you to start watching where you’re going?”

“I’m not good with listening sometimes,” you mutter, huffing. Taking a look around yourself– noticing that there are no sleds left on the top of the hill, therefore, if you wanted to escape the situation, the only way down would be to roll around like a human version of a snowman, you once again admit your defeat, standing around nervously and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

The silence is uncomfortable. It makes you want to dig a hole in the snow and bury yourself alive, to suffocate under the weight of the icy cold and never see Eric’s face again. You know that you ruined whatever friendship you had with the male– by being stupid and foolish, not really thinking about consequences (because there were supposed to be none and you were supposed to be dead), and the weight of the guilt makes you want to puke and hide away. 

Still, Eric comes out of his way to talk to you. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised– he should be disgusted with you. Realistically, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around.“They’re gonna take long to walk back up,” he notes, “wanna get hot chocolate with me?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with the overwhelming white of the hill.

“Come on,” he sighs, “it’s just around the corner. They built a hot chocolate stand because they knew kids would come sledding here. Honestly, it’s an astute business tactic, but I promise the hot chocolate actually tastes nice,” he says, nudging you slightly with his arm, as if to make you look at him and change your mind.

“Thanks, but no,” you definitely say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asks, tone of voice casual– as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if nothing ever happened and he was genuinely curious about the reasoning behind your actions.

“I’m not, I just don’t really like hot chocolate,” you sheepishly mutter, trying hard to avoid the topic.

“So you are avoiding me,” he hums, as if it wasn’t obvious before– and not only because you’re a bad liar. Plus, you love hot chocolate. Somehow, you think Eric knows.

“Look, Eric,” you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “can’t you just drop it?”

“No,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “and that’s why we’re talking about the reason why you’re avoiding me over a cup of hot chocolate. Let’s go.”

His persistence is terribly overwhelming sometimes. You wonder how the male does it. “I already told you-”

“You owe me for the stickers and the meal and everything,” he corners you, and you know you can’t argue with that. He’s kind of right, you suppose– you never paid him back for all the chocolates or for the free meal he brought you that one evening. And that’s exactly why you find yourself sighing as you follow him, mentally preparing yourself for the talk.

You hate how he can always get his way. Walking up to the stand, you crack your knuckles in the pocket of your jacket, nervously coming up with possible arguments to tell him. I didn’t kiss you on purpose, it was an accident. I only did it to know how it feels. We are both supposed to be dead, it’s not my fault the world didn’t end like it was supposed to! Each sentence sounds more stupid than the previous one, and so with that, you shake your head, wiping the thoughts away, smiling at the elderly lady in the stand. You’re just gonna have to be honest, you figure. 

“Two hot chocolates, please.”

Rummaging through your pockets to find your wallet– you do owe Eric, so it’s only natural for you to pay– you’re caught off guard as the male next to you swiftly takes out his own and unzips it, preparing to pay for you. 

“I thought I owed you?” you mumble, hand reaching to tug at his forearm to stop him, to which Eric only grins at you and sighs.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to pay,” he says.

“I think that’s exactly what that means.”

“Just take it,” he huffs as he brings out a note from his wallet, the force making something else fly out and fall to the ground with it, having the boy swiftly crouch down and pick the item up, attempting to hide it before you get a chance to see. And now, you don’t have 20/20 vision, but you recognise your face when you see it– that, and you also recognize the small white sheet to be a polaroid picture, and as far as you’re aware, you’re the only one who has a camera in his circle.

The boy hands you the drink with red-tinted cheeks. The idea of him carrying a picture of you that he took back in September makes you flush as well, and when your gloved fingers accidentally meet as you take the cup from him, he forces out a laugh. “We can talk about that after you tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

His nonchalance has you relaxing only for a few seconds. The boy walks with you as you try to heat up your cold hands on the boiling surface of the cup, and when you see a bench a few meters away from you two, you instinctively take a seat.

“So?” he becomes you, eyebrows rising as he takes a sip from the melted sweetness.

Sighing, you try to come up with the best way to go around this. Do you apologize? Do you promise to never do it again– and you won’t, even though you want to so badly and his lips look surprisingly soft today? Furrowing your brows at the war in your head, you place the cup on the bench next to you and put your head into your hands, hiding away from him when you realize the only way to do this is to be completely, utterly honest.

“I’m just so embarrassed, Eric.”

The only noise meeting your eardrums in the moment is the faint yelling of the crowd sledding in the background, your companion remaining quiet for a bit. When he sees you won’t explain yourself, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Why?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” you sigh, not believing his so casual composure.

“Maybe,” he laughs, the airy sound taking all breath away from your lungs.

Well, not all of it, since you have enough oxygen to go on a tangent, it seems. “Because I kissed you, goddamnit. And- and I don’t even know why I did it, honestly, I’ve never thought of kissing you before! It’s just- when I heard the world is ending, I realized I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, and that just felt like such a miserable way to die, and then you asked what I wanted to do before I die and I couldn’t think of anything else,” you say, progressively taking out your head from your hands and facing the male, big eyes staring into his soul. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t seem mad. Or disgusted. Or any of the reactions you expected, really. Eric stares at you with a soft, but amidst a little star-struck look in his eyes, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of every slight shift in his composure.

“Did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me, or because you thought the world was gonna end?” he asks, awaiting your answer.

And if you’re being honest, 2 days after New Year’s Eve, you do admit the thought of the world actually ending sounds a bit stupid. Why did you even believe that theory? Why did they talk about it so seriously on the news? They tricked you into ruining your own life. 

But still, nothing can be done about it now. “Both,” you admit, shrugging, “I… I kissed you because I really didn’t want to die unkissed, but also… I wanted it to be you, y’know? Like… I thought we were really going to die, and so I thought kissing you might be a nice way to go. I really wanted to spend my last moments with you, I guess,” you sheepishly say, averting your gaze from the male.

Eric offers you his silence again after you’re done explaining. While you do admit you feel a little tense to hear what he has to say, you also realize you feel lighter now that it’s out in the universe and out of your system. A major weight was taken off your shoulders with the confession, and suddenly, you’re kind of glad that your friend was so assertive and insistent on talking about this– who knows how long you’d go before managing to face him. You think you could honestly go on… forever.

Taking a sip of the luscious liquid, you feel your body warm up once the anxiousness slips away from your bones. The boy next to you hums, making you face him with expecting eyes. “Then why were you avoiding me?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “I just told you. I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s bad at listening.”

“No,” he laughs, “that’s still you. Because if you were good at listening, you’d remember me telling you that I’ve never once seen you as my younger sister.”

Shrugging, kicking the pile of snow in front of you with the tip of your winter boots, you’re not quite following. “So?”

“So you should’ve realized that I’m not doing all of this,” he theatrically swings his arms around, “for nothing, you know?”

“All of what?”

“Taking care of you. Feeding you, helping you collect those stupid animal stickers, walking you home…” he mumbles, sighing. “Keeping your picture in my wallet,” he adds with a playful tone, making you smile.

“I thought you were just being a good friend,” you shrug.

“I don’t keep a picture of your brother on me at all times,” he says, tugging off his gloves. The sleeve of his jacket rides up a little as you watch him take his cup of hot chocolate off the bench, surprised (and flooded with warmth) to see the ugly friendship bracelet you made still adorning his wrist.

Grinning to yourself, excitement welcoming itself into the tips of your fingertips, you shrug. “So?” you mirror your own question from a little while ago, wanting him to say it to you instead of relying on your own brain– you think there’s still a possibility of you just being too delusional to see the reality for what it really is. You need to make sure you’re not imagining things.

“So,” he starts, sighing to himself as he turns a little in his seat to face you, “you should stop avoiding me, because I liked the kiss. And you. And we should probably do it again, because I didn’t get the chance to kiss you back the first time,” he says, once again taking all oxygen out of your lungs with the casualty of his preposition.

Locking his eyes with you, having you two staring at each other like two rays of sunshine warming up the cold January, he grins. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” you breathe out, “very good.”

The male takes it as an invitation as he scoots himself closer to you on the bench, his body turning a bit to face you. His free hand cups your cheek, leaning closer to lock his lips with you like he asked you to, your eyes fluttering close at the proximity, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach already expecting to kiss him again. The situation feels a little too idyllic to be real, though– you should’ve expected it to get ruined again.

Something cold and wet comes into contact with the side of your face, and when you sharply open your eyes, you see Eric staring at you with shock and terror in his eyes, the snow dripping down the side of his face as well. Whoever threw the snowball has good aim, you think– managing to target two people at once (even though your faces were that close to each other that it probably wasn’t even that hard), and before you get a chance to look around and see who cut off your kiss, there’s a scream coming from the left side of the two of you, the sound of feet quickly darting in the snow landing into your ears.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” the voice hollers, and before you get a chance to react, the said male fastly stands up from the bench and runs to the other direction, laughter resonating all throughout the place as Sunwoo and his friends chase their shortest friend down.

Snow starts falling as you watch your brother tail his childhood friend, and with a foreign sense of warmth, you get reminded of the birthday wish you made while blowing out the candles on your seventh birthday.

You wished for someone just like Eric. You didn’t know the universe would be so kind to give you him instead.

[lordsukunas]

daycare worker? attendant?! nanami headcanons sorry this has actually been nibbling away at my brain... i'll shut up abt this au at some point. anyway, enjoy!

daycare attendant! nanami whose fingers always smell like citrus after lunch because kugisaki has randomly deemed him her orange peeler.

daycare attendant! nanami who roleplays with the kids as a chivalrous knight during tea time. he sneaks glances at you from his cramped spot in the tiny chair, a foam sword resting on his thighs. when your gaze meets his and he sees the small, amused smirk on your lips, he swears his heart skips a beat or two.

daycare attendant! nanami who packs extra snacks for the kids. he has an entire list in his notes app of their preferences and allergies.

daycare attendant! nanami who, during nap time, listens to r&b (sade, micheal jackson, beyonce, h.e.r., ms. lauryn hill) while attempting to finish up a book he started weeks ago.

daycare attendant! nanami who walks you to your car every evening once all the kids are gone, even if his car is parked on the other side of the parking lot.

daycare attendant! nanami who notices you eyeing one of the pastries he brought from a small bakery. that same pastry is on your desk when you unlock your classroom the next morning.

daycare attendant! nanami who genuinely enjoys doing word searches with the kids, even if they're so easy it takes him less than five minutes.

daycare attendant! nanami who looks up whenever one of the kids calls your name. you don't even have to be in the room, and he'll still do it, hazel eyes searching for your radiant presence.

daycare attendant! nanami whose desktop wallpaper is a picture of kuantan, malaysia. when you ask him about it, he explains the reason calmly as always, but you can see the twinkle in his eyes and the smile threatening to spread across his features.

daycare attendant! nanami who is picky as hell about candles. if it stinks or is overly strong, he won't spare it a second glance. that's not to say he doesn't enjoy unconventional smells, though.

daycare attendant! nanami who only enjoys talking to you. he's cordial enough to his other coworkers, but something about how you smile at him or gesture animatedly with your hands while you speak or visit him during lunch, ready to tell him a story about something silly the kids did... it makes him a little more excited to come to work every day.

divider creds: hitobaby hai!! i'm back again lolsies. i can't tell if attendant or worker is a better word, but i think imma just call it attendant instead. also, ik i said that he wouldnt go back to jujutsu sorcery but like imagine him spending a lil extra time before work to exorcise any curses that get too close to the daycare... its not realistic bc its against the silly rules of jujutsu society or wtv but idgaf!!! nanamin loves them kids (and maybe u idk)<3

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello gorgeous! if you don't mind modern au, i have an idea. if you don't feel like writing anything it'd be great to hear your thoughts abt it. daemon x wife!reader (who's somehow connected with magic but not targaryen) who are devoted to each other like madly in love. before daemon has to go to war they're saying goodbyes kissing, crying and not being able to let the other go. feeling like something's off he says smth like "i'll find you in another life. i'll find you in any time we'll be existing. i will love you any time i am alive" (in high valyrian or calling her some name in it) kissing her knuckles and going away. unfortunately, he was right. reader died some way while he was away and he remains faithful to her for the rest of his life (oc but whatever) and in the modern world he does find her. maybe targaryens are some sort of royal family, maybe they keep a family business or an ordinary family with lots of relatives. but he fins the reader and they somehow just feel. sorry if it's too much. i'd really like to read something about it but it absolutely ok if you don't feel like it. thank u in advance! take care!

Waiting For A Lifetime

Part 1 2 3 ?

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader cos it just sorta happened

Summary: Overcome by grief, Daemon turned to black magic to revive you. Moved by pity, the witch who casted the spell promised you would live until you met your love again in his next life.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Modern AU, fem!reader, mentions/depictions of death/still birth/war, my pretty boy aegon whom i would die for, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: i saw this last night when i woke up in the middle of my sleep and couldn't stop thinking about it. I changed a lot about your req nonnie. I do hope you still like it though. I absolutely could not help myself with this one and I got so carried away T_T also a lot of facts about the Targaryens have distorted so just just just roll with it ok ok ok thank you And yes i know this is a gif from the crown but i love it so much the hat falling off the kiss ITS EVERYTHING I WANT TO BE HERRRRRRRRRRRRR also i do acknowledge the fact that this anon came to me with this idea after i reblogged this amazing moodboard sooooo yeah i think this post sparked this fic idea lol ALSO ALSO ALSO 2022 MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!! LOVE YA ALL imagine seeing this post in like 2032 or smth shit thats like 35 years from now Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony pssst i made p2 "Never Before"

Daemon's face was streaked with tears and sorrow. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice was as sure as it was grave as he repeated the word he uttered to the shaman, "anything."

She looked at him, able to taste the desperation in the air, "even if it costs your life, prince?"

Daemon looks at his love before him, his love that was carrying his child. He places his bloody palm on the gaping wound on her stomach.

"Your child will not live even if she does."

Daemon screws his eyes shut tightly. He begins to quiver in anger, in grief, in pure sorrow. He mutters, "anything," he slowly opens his eyes to gaze upon her lifeless face, "better it me than her. There is no world worth living without her."

The woman narrows her eyes at the prince. She knew he was the Targaryen, once heir, known to be rugged and harsh. The Rouge Prince. Yet, there was no trace of malice within his being, only what she would describe as true devotion, true love.

"So, may it be done by the gods old and new," she says, drawing the prince's attention to her, "I will plead for her soul that she may live."

Daemon watches the witch, as she stands to her feet from the ground they were both sprawled on, in front of the body of the dead woman.

"I will plead that she may live long enough to meet you again in another life, so that you may have the love you have now once more."

"Another life?"

"Yes," she says, "the gods recreate humans they are pleased with to grace the earth again. I am certain they will let you be reborn to be with her again. I will make it certain."

Daemon grabs the cold hand that was beginning to stiffen.

"Although, I am unsure if they will allow you to remember her."

"I will remember her," Daemon retorts, kissing the hand of his love, "I will remember her no matter form I take... I will, I must."

"So it remains to be seen," she says before speaking out her incantation.

And it would not be seen until nearly 2000 years later.

The times have changed drastically. Women wore pants and voted. Men where made to take more responsibility for their actions, though still got away with things.

And yet...

... my love for him never faded.

Every prince that was born and named Daemon, I hoped would finally be him. It went about like this century after century, war after war, plague after plague, rise after fall. I had feared the Targaryens would die out, but they proved to be as strong as the very foundations of the earth.

And it took the televised of the marriage of Viserys XXIX to Duchess Aemma of Eyrie for me to see the face of my love: Daemon, the Wild Child, the Knight of Knickers, as penned by the press. Ultimately, the prince of my heart.

I burst into tears when I saw his cheeky face as he nudged his brother at the isle. I pressed my hands on the screen, thinking to myself, the wait was finally over, he was finally here.

All that was left was for me to meet the Prince of Valyria.

Yes. That would be no problem at all.

Except it was, because Daemon was just as mad as he was in this life as he was in the last.

After all, he did not get those nicknames from the press for nothing.

I used up so many of my resources to even just get a glimpse of him. It was hard to catch him in one place. I mostly caught him with a scandalous headline in the cover of magazines and newspapers.

Tonight, it was a newspaper.

"You know," the bartender taps his finger on my newspaper that was sprawled out on his bar, "he's a frequent here."

I turn to the blonde, in his white dress shirt, black waist apron, and black slacks. I raise a brow as he purses his lips as though the information was ground breaking. He wipes on a glass with his blue towel.

"Gee, Aegon," I lean on the surface before me, "I would have never guessed that from the picture on the wall."

I nod at the said picture. It's one of Daemon and the current owner of the bar, Tywin Lannister, who also happened to own Lannister Land Corp, shaking hands. Oh, Lannisters.

"Hey," Aegon shrugs, pulling his lips down in a nuff-said manner, "it had to be said, since you're literally the only patron here that has not interrogated me with questions about the Knight of Knickers."

I snort, "then allow me to change that," I rest my head on my hand, "is he truly so dashing that his looks practically steal the knickers of the ladies around him?"

Aegon finishes buffing his glass and puts it down, looking up in thought, "mmm, I think it's mostly cause he's a prince that he's got the effect he's got. I've got no idea what possessed the first girl to throw her panties at him."

I giggle, "are you saying the prince is ugly?"

"Bit harsh, innit," Aegon pulls back, getting another glass, rubbing it down with his towel, "your words, not mine."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head, as I laugh at the light haired boy's muses, "you know, if we had been living at the height of the Targaryen rule, Daemon would have had your head for that, pretty boy."

"Gods, to be beheaded," he sighed, "a dream, rather than working here, taking about some monarch who lives off the money of the people."

I snort once more. Aegon's face softens as he breaks into a laugh himself.

"No, but honestly," he says putting down the glass and the towel, "you, my dear, are my saving grace. The highlight of my begrudgingly stretched out day," he stretches out a hand to me.

I chuckle at him as I take his hand. He presses a kiss on the back of it, making me grin at him in amusement.

"You're the only sane person here," he releases my hand, "everyone else is so desperate to brush shoulders with the prince, or simply even catch a of whiff of his flatulence."

I break out into a fit of chuckles, slamming firmly at the wood between us.

"No, I'm serious! I heard the fittest gal, a total bombshell, boasting with pride about how she managed a sniff of the bloke's fart."

I'm wheezing with laughter, unable to believe what I'm hearing.

Aegon releases a deep and dramatic sigh, "what has the world come to?"

I wipe a tear as Aegon watches me empty myself of laughter. His face crinkles in a pleased expression, Adam's apple bobbing as he chuckles airily.

I sigh, catching my breath, "well, if I ever become that desperate, I ask that you pray for my soul."

Aegon presses his palms together, "praying for that girl as we speak."

I chuckle, folding the newspaper before me, "I must say, I am actually desperate to meet the wild child myself."

Aegon drops his hands along with his humored expression.

I cannot help but laugh at him as I continue to fold the paper, "though, I would say I am the desperate kind that is so desperate..." I eye him as I press the grey material together, "that I, somehow, dread to meet him at all."

Aegon snorts, screwing his eyes shut as he wipes his face, "the Stranger. Don't say things like that! I nearly had a heart attack believing you."

"No, but it's true, Aegon!" I say with a faux wounded pout, "prince Daemon is my great love, we have been destined to meet for millennia!"

Aegon leans on the table, humming as he nodds his head, "yes, and I suppose I am Aegon the Conqueror."

I lean towards him and grab his jaw, "no, you look more like Aegon II. The spitting image, I dare say."

He scoffs, swatting me off, "I'm hotter than him."

I pull away, "yes. That I can agree with, pretty boy. Personal hygiene does wonders."

Aegon snorts and plays off the blush on his cheeks by wiping his nose with his thumb, "you speak as though you met him."

I straighten up, "that's because I have. He was once my nephew."

He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. His face contorts at the thought.

I raise my brows at him, "have I not told you I am not only a Targaryen historian, an expert at that, but I am also a patron of the Museum of Ice and Fire? I'm married into their family."

"Okay," he raises a finger, "ew."

I snort.

Aegon lifts his jaw and hums, "well, now that you mentioned it, I always knew you were one of those insanely rich blokes who frequent here. I was thinking you were a mafia boss or something though."

I scoff in amusement, raising my brows at him.

He pushes his white sleeves up then raises his hand in defense, "you have a very intense aura about you."

"That's because you trigger my fight mode," I retort.

He huffs, "do I? I'm scared to know what you'll do to me when I've seen what you do to men who hit on you."

"Aww, don't worry," I coo, "I wouldn't hurt my pretty, baby boy."

Aegon doesn't get to reply when a customer calls his attention. With this, he pulls away and leaves me to my own devices.

We don't get to continue our conversation at all, for it was clear that the rush hour had begun.

I eventually pulled back and decided to entertain myself while my favorite bartender was busy. I swiveled on my stool, looking out to the room, spotting the jukebox collecting dust in the corner. I smile at the sight of it, thinking about how it was still here after all these years, in spite of being older than Aegon.

I stand from my seat and walk over to it.

Aegon, finding one patron missing, frantically looks around then calms, raising a brow.

I place my hands on the jukebox, bending over to check if it was plugged in.

Aegon snorts as he hands a man a beer, eyes not at all fixed on him, "that doesn't work, love."

"Mmm, ye of little faith."

Aegon is annoyed by the man that sits on the vacated stool, blocking his vision. In retaliation, he blocks out the sound of his voice. Aegon calls out, "if you can make that hunkajunk work, I'll clear your tab for you."

I chuckle as I pull the machine forward, checking its wiring, "I wouldn't want to make a kid working on minimum wage to pay for me at all."

"I only said I would clear your tab, doll face," is all he replies before he goes back to tending to drinks again.

I break into chuckles as I fiddle with the wires on the back. I admit, it took me quite a while to go through everything, which was why Aegon warned that he would not call an ambulance for me if I got electrocuted.

The sight of the jukebox coming to life was enough to shut him up.

I get to my feet with a huff, brushing my hands off with each other. I turn to Aegon, who was already looking at me in astonishment, along with a few other people in the room.

I smirk, "my tab then?"

"Good as gone," Aegon shakes his head in disbelief, cutting his hand across his neck.

I release a satisfied sigh as I punch at the hardened buttons and play whatever it was that was available to be played.

When the music starts, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off with the music. The sound brings back some memories I had in the 1940's. If I recall correctly, it was around this time Daemon's father, King Baelon, was crowned.

I slowly moved to the rhythm of the song, swaying my hips, waving my extended arms out as I made my way to the center of the room.

Aegon stilled in his spot upon seeing this. His breath caught in his throat and he was only brought back to reality when someone demanded a gin. He looked around the room as he poured that idjit his drink and clenched his jaw tightly when he saw the onlooking crowd.

He snorts loudly, grabbing his towel, throwing it over his shoulder roughly, clearing his throat with more noise than necessary.

I smile to myself when I hear Aegon's familiar coughing. He had a tendency to do this whenever men around me started to be a bother. And I loved him dearly for it. He was a sweet boy.

With my eyes still closed, I continue dancing to the soothing song. My smile grows bigger when a section comes that tickles my musical senses. I chuckle as I twirl in my spot.

When I felt a hand come to my waist, I didn't have to open my eyes to know it was Aegon. He wouldn't have let anyone come near me at all without barking up a storm.

I hummed at the scent of him, familiar yet foreign to me at once. He must have changed his cologne. I prefer this one better. He pulls me close when I reach out to him, grabbing one of his hands and placing a palm on his shoulder. His dress shirt is softer than what I imagined it to be.

I am surprised when he leads us into a ballroom dance. In fact, I am so shocked, I open my eyes and see a blur of his white shirt and blonde hair as he spins me around.

I break into a fit of chuckles, screwing my eyes shut in pure bliss when he dips me, "I had no idea you were a dancer, pretty boy."

"Yes, well, journalists don't find it interesting enough to write about."

My eyes burst open at the sound of the deep voice.

My heart is pounding at the sight of the smirking man with silver hair. I nearly faint at the violet irises so close to mine.

"I do say," his hot breath fans on my face, "if we were spotted by one now, they'd have a field day."

I jolt upright and shove the man away. He doesn't seem to be offended by my harsh actions, and, in fact, chuckles as he reels back from my action, "not what I had expected and not the reaction I usually get, but there's a first for everything."

My breath hitches when he smiles at me. I turn from him, to Aegon, who was staring coldly from his place behind the bar. It seems the rest of the people here were doing the same as well, gobsmacked by the presence of the man in the middle of the room

I roll my shoulders back, turning to my dance partner, "Prince Daemon," I mutter, bowing my head slowly, "pardon my rudeness."

He chuckles, waving me off as he stuffs a hand in his pocket, "oh, no need to be so formal, my dear. I can understand the shock," he tilts his head at me, lips still curved, "you surely weren't expecting to be dancing with the prince and thought me to be someone else, no?"

I look at him and stare in silence. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words.

Everything was suddenly so real, and it was making my mind and my heart race.

Aegon watches this and clears his throat loudly.

It does not help anyone.

Daemon raises his brows at me in expectation, placing his other hand in his pocket as he leans on one leg.

I open my mouth. A second passes before I mutter, "I thought you were my pretty boy."

His lips spread into a toothy grin. Airy chuckles leave him, "I can be your pretty boy."

When he extends his hand out to me, it was like the heavens opened and I could hear the angels sing.

This was the moment I have been waiting for since that day that I came back to life and kissed him goodbye with a promise of finding him in his next one.

My breath was heavily taxed when I lifted my hand.

My soul nearly leaves me when I jolt in shock over the sound of a record scratching and jumping, repeating over and over again.

In that moment, I am hit by an epiphany. I am so overwhelmed with emotions that I could barely breathe. The sight of Daemon before me brought tears to my eyes. This was all I ever wanted, and yet-- and yet-- I was drowning. I could not breathe properly.

"I..." I shudder, making Daemon's face fall, "I have to go," I mutter through a strained breath.

Daemon knits his brows, shifting in his spot with his hand still out, "what?"

Aegon watched with tightly knit brows as I ran out of the room.

The prince drops his hand and spins on his heels, eyes locked on the runaway. His nostrils flare as his face contorts in confusion, "wait! Stop! Where are you going?!"

I heave heavily as I push past people on my way out. I am absolutely winded when I exit the establishment, hands shivering from both the cold and the nerves that were getting to me in this moment.

I walk aimlessly farther out, down to the lawn that was now dark, since it was gods-know-what hour.

"Wait!"

My heart drops.

I spin around when someone grabs my wrist. My heart is still quick in my chest when I see Daemon, heaving. His short, light hair was slightly tousled in its place. He knits his brows at me, tilting his head, "you dare leave your prince, Cinderella?"

My jaw hangs low.

He releases a sigh, shaking his head, "I forbid it."

Seeing him here and now made everything feel more Real with a capital R.

Daemon adjusts his grip on my wrist, pulling his hand back, so that he was now holding my hand.

I look at him, blinking the glassiness of my eyes away, still in shock of his presence. A million questions were running through my head, and I was glad to be able to even have the mind to ask one in this moment, "do you know me, Daemon?"

He tilts his head upon hearing this, brows knitting, lips curving. He releases a chuckle at the lack of formality and how haphazard the question was, but finds himself further drawn because of it, "no," he shakes his head, "but I would love to know you."

Hearing the words come out of his mouth shatters something in me.

He did not know me.

I turn away from him as I try to even my breath. I retreat my hand and step back as a shiver runs down my spine.

And yet here he was, chasing after me.

Daemon steps forward to make up for the space between us, "don't leave. Come back inside with me. I'll give you my coat, then you can boast that the prince of Valyria gave it to you."

I continue stepping back as I shake my head, "you don't understand," I mutter under my breath in High Valyrian.

"Then make me understand," he retorts in the same tongue with a chuckle as he shakes his head and takes a wide stride over to me, grabbing my hand again.

I gasp at the warmth of his touch. When I turn back to him, tears have finally fallen from my eyes.

Daemon's face hardens at the sight of it. His hand reaches out to my face, wiping the wetness away. The sight of his torn expression tears at me, bringing me more tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asks in High Valyrian.

I do not get to reply, as suddenly there is a loud burst from behind us, commanding both our attentions.

It's Aegon. He busted through the door with my things in his hand. Upon catching the sight of the two of us, he freezes, breathing heavily as the looks out.

Daemon's expression hardens; his grip on me tightens. He turns to me, jealousy coating his mouth when he catches I where I am looking, "is that your pretty boy?"

I do not reply to him as Aegon walks over.

Daemon pulls me close to him. I look up at him with teary eyes. Aegon looks between us, jaw tense as he hands me my bag, coat, and newspaper.

"Thank you, bartender," Daemon dismisses, patting Aegon on the shoulder, before turning from him to face me again.

When I catch Aegon's face, I finally have the wits to move.

I pull away from Daemon to put my coat on. I swallow a heavy lump in my throat at feel of the stares of the two men.

Once I have my coat on, I pull a card from my bag, handing it to Daemon. He wastes no time in taking it from me, immediately scrutinizing it.

"I'd..." I start, taking a deep breath, "like to see you again."

Daemon's eyes dart to me, breaking into a smile.

Butterflies explode in my stomach at the sight of him.

Aegon's face tenses.

I release a breath before asking, "when are you fr-"

"Whenever," Daemon blurts. He places the card in the breast pocket of his white shirt, "I'm free whenever."

I nod slowly at his words, "I have work tomorrow, but I do have a long lunch at 12-

"I'll call you a 11:55."

I purse my lips at his words, trying to hold back my chuckle, but failing, "11:55?"

Daemon grins, nodding once, "on the dot."

I chuckle, turning to my feet as I nod at his words, "11:55 then."

"On the dot," he nods, extending a hand out to rub his thumb on my cheek.

I turn to him just as Daemon pulls away and stuffs his hands back in his pockets, "I'll walk you."

I shake my head, turning to Aegon, who was still standing there, watching the whole interaction between us, "you don't have to. I have a car parked nearby."

"Then I'll walk you to your car."

I turn back to Daemon, who then offers his arm out to me. I smile, unable to deny him, or myself, of the offer. I take his arm, and the next moment, he leads us off.

I turn over my shoulder, raising a hand at Aegon while I offer him a smile, "see you, Aegon."

Aegon watches as I turn back.

There is a twisted feeling inside him that grows. He mutters softly. It is too soft for anyone but himself to hear, "see you."

[helpwhatsthis]

could I request smut of best friend Robin coming across photos of reader and Eddie sending one another nudes 😱 then later on reader and Robin sext?

eddies girl- r.b./e.m

thank you sm for requesting babes!

I changed it bc I am very picky abt my modern aus, but there are definitely still nudes and this is way better than sexting.

ignore the use of time period inaccurate toys!

disclaimer that there are no relations between eddie and robin! (if anyone tries to argue with me about robins sexuality, prepare to have a molotov cocktail thrown in your window ♡)

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robin had know she was fucked from the moment she saw you punch a russian in the face during summer of 85'.

she'd known she was even more fucked the moment she pulled open eddies nightstand in search of a song to save nancy.

before she could even move her eyes to the contents of the drawer, eddie had started screaming and running toward her. the tapes were forgotten from both of her hands when she gazed down to see god knows how many photos of one of her best friends in such... compromising positions.

if it hadn't been for steves screams to hurry up, and eddies pointed yet still terrified stare- she thinks she would have laughed from the shock of it all. because if she was a little more perverted (and a lot less rushed) it would have been like striking gold to her.

she can't deny to herself how many times she'd thought about the small glimpse she'd had. once everyone was safe, and eddie and max had been released from the hospital, it was all she had thought about for days. she'd barely left her room. every time her eyes closed, she saw it. saw you. tied up to your headboard, eddies hellfire shirt bunched up over your tits, and his hands pressing on your stomach. your head thrown back in ecstacy.

and with the sight came the questions. would you ever, in a million years or another lifetime let her touch you like that? what would you sound like? do want to fuck eddie as much as he talks about wanting to fuck you?

now her thighs are clenching together in the dusk surrounding the lake. she feels like a preteen boy, about to blow her load in her jeans while you moan along with joan jett to cherry bomb.

how could she not? your eyes are glassy and bloodshot, smoke falling from your nose. your black bathing suit leaves nothing of your body shape to the imagination. but most of all, even in the low light she can see the dark hickies on your skin.

"she's so fucking perfect, isn't she?" eddie muses softly, his knee bumping her own. guilt immediately fills her being when she looks back at him. even though his skin is covered in harsh scars, and there's a fear lurking in his eyes, he smiles as he watches you.

he loves you.

and you love him.

"to the ends of the earth, teddy" you had whispered in the back of steves car while begging him to hang on.

"i- I mean yeah, sure-" she stumbles on her words, sure shes been caught staring for too long.

"cool it, buckley." he smirks, turning his gaze to her. "I know you want to fuck my girlfriend, there's no reason to freak out."

"I don't!" she blurts, probably a little too loudly when you and steve turn back to look at her.

"shut up rob," he laughs, smacking her shoulder. "I know you have a shitty sleep schedule, and you have work tomorrow. so me and the succubus are gonna head home."

"dick" you grit, reaching up to slap his ass harshly as he stands.

why the fuck is he covering for her right now?

she's seen how possessive eddie can get, even before his escapades in an alternate dimension. since then, they'd only increased tenfold.

"we'll finish this conversation later." he murmurs, leaning down and feigning a kiss goodbye on the top of her head.

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"-and she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it. and he's holding her in his arms late-late at night-"

robin groans, throwing her head back against the headrest of steves passenger seat. "alright, sorry springfield. I can't handle you tonight."

she reaches to turn down the radio, causing steve to fake a moan of agony.

"shit, robin. is this y/n. again?" he asks, glancing at her pitifully.

"yes, again." she snaps. "it's like she knows exactly how to work her way into the most minute crevices of my brain" she explains exaggeratedly with her hands.

much to her annoyance, steve just chuckles.

"and eddie knows-" she looks at him, finally allowing her fear to show through. she knows that some point, eddie had threatened a guy within an inch of his life, all because he heard from someone who heard from someone else that the guy had a crush on you.

she did not feel like having eddie threaten to put a pipe bomb in her mailbox. or whatever deranged shit came out of his mouth.

"and how would he know?" steve asks skeptically.

because all I do is stare at her boobs,

or because I stole one of her shirts,

maybe even because sometimes I wake myself up moaning her name in my sleep.

"I don't know." she lies. straight through fucking teeth. "but he told me he knows."

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"alright, I'll be back in a few." you huff, grabbing eddies keys so that you could pick up steve and some take out. "love you, bubba" you hum, pressing a short kiss to eddies lips that makes robin painfully aware of being the third wheel.

"love you too." he smiles blissfully as he watches you walk out the door. it takes less than a second for him to turn back to her, cheshire grin upturning his lips. "let's get down to business-"

he wiggles his brows at her, causing her to roll her eyes. "and what would that be, edward?" she snaps, looking anywhere but his face. she knows that if she looks at him too long, she'll become a sobbing, apologizing mess.

"well, all three of us are off thursday." he shrugs. "and wayne is going out with some fishing buddies-" he smirks, biting his lip as he leans toward her.

"that means y/n and I are gonna have that new, big nda money house all to ourselves... unless of course you wanna come over?"

and she can see it vividly now, playing behind her eyelids. she's not stupid. she nows eddie fucked you on every surface of the new place after you'd bought it with your hush money.

it's a nice place, a really nice place actually. it's no harrington mansion, but you have eddie have a big plush bed on the second floor.

she wonders what it'd be like, to fuck you the king size bed you share with your boyfriend.

"and what would happen if I did come over?" she bites the bullet, looking skeptically at eddie. she almost wishes she hadn't when she sees the victorious look on eddies face.

"well y'know, it's not like I've put too much thought to it-" he laughs, eyes lost in thought as he absent-mindedly picks at the couch. "but you probably come in and find her tied to one of the kitchen chairs, wand buzzing against her puffy clit and begging someone to fill her up."

and she can almost hear it then, the loud buzzing and your whines for him.

no, for her.

"and of course I'd be mean, tell her no. and you'd get to play the hero, making her cum over and over on your pink cock."

there's a burning in her stomach, and she almost cries out when she clenches her thighs.

"god robin, she gets so wet for you. I make her tell me about how she wants your fingers inside and your tits in her face when im fucking her."

and she can't suppress it then, a soft moan pulling from her throat. she pulls her knees under her chin, peering up at him through teary eyes. he smiles, almost warmly as he claps a hand on her shoulder.

"so come over, or don't. s'up to you darlin'."

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her hands are shakey as she reaches to close the mirror on the visor, letting out a huff of anxiety.

"you're really gonna do this?" steve ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I guess so, and if it's horrible I'll call you when you're on break and make you come pick me up." she shrugs, looking back out the window.

"It's not gonna be horrible, rob." steve states, even though he knows very well that his is definitely out of her comfort zone.

she's so lost in her own head that she barely notices when he stops the car in the driveway.

"oh god-" she murmurs softly, gazing at the front door.

"It's just eddie and y/n, you'll be okay." he promises, reaching out a squeezing her hand.

the walk to the door feels endless on her trembling legs. she almost can bring herself to knock when she finally reaches it. but she does.

"It's open!" she hears eddie call from inside.

before she even has the door all the way open, she hears you cry out.

"eddie, please." you beg, hands fisting your binds and hips trying to wiggle away from the vibrations. it's a fruitless effort, only adding stimulation to your swollen cunt.

your beautiful. it's a simple thought, and the first thing that occurs to her as she stares into the the living room.

she thinks that eddie must have the self control of a god, being able to write nerd shit in his notebook while you're tied up and jerking around like that right in front of him.

"god eddie, please make it stop." you pant, body slumping and pushing your clit into the toy harder.

he only smiles, reaching out and turning it up a setting. you practically scream, head falling back and making her knees feel weak.

"come torture her a bit, buckley." he smiles at her. "lose the clothes on the way." he hums, going back to his notebook.

and she's waited so long to see you like this that she obeys without a second thought, striping down to her underwear and sitting beside him on the couch.

from here, she can see all of you. you're chest is heaving so hard it makes your tits bounce. there's visible tremors running through your belly. and your cunt, fuck. it's leaking everywhere and your puffy clit is twitching against the head of the wand.

"r-robin-" you choke, voice broken. "please make it stop?" you you beg, tear filled eyes pleading at her.

"oh y/n." she hums, reaching out to wipe the tear tracks from your cheeks. you push into her touch, and jerk a second later when eddie flicks the handle of the wand.

"make her cum." he says, relaxing back into the couch with his arms behind his head.

"how?" she asks, not able to tear her gaze from your clenching hole.

he sits up wordlessly, reaching for the clasp of her bra. he stops, eyes asking for permission. she nods, and seconds later the material is falling from her chest.

the sound you make is strangled, wanting nothing more than to feel the hard buds of her nipples against your tongue.

"do whatever feels right?" eddie shrugs.

and so she does, standing from the couch and pulling down her panties. your whining, body keening toward hers as you watch her undress.

she can help herself, hands caressing your face and she guides it so that your chin rests on her sternum.

it almost feel natural as she moves her hands to the sides of her breasts, pushing them and effectively smashing you between them.

and she giggles, fucking giggles, as you sob into her skin.

"can I kiss her?" she asks shyly, looking over her shoulder at eddie.

"you can do whatever the fuck you want to her, robin" he grins.

the next thing you know, her mouth is on yours, her tongue running along yours. you don't even notice her moving, so consumed by her mouth. she drops on your lap, folds warm and wet against your legs as her hand wraps around your neck.

"f-fuck" you cry into her mouth when she squeezes slightly.

and then she's in a daze, hips rocking against your mound and causing you to thrust into the vibe.

you take her tit into your mouth, nearly biting at her nipple and making her moan.

"oh fuck, that's it y/n" she gasps, hands tugging your hairs.

"go on and cum for her, baby." eddie encourages, reaching out and squeezing you knee.

it's euphoria as you let go. cunt clenching and feeling your pulse everywhere. your deaf to your owns screams of pleasure, deaf to both of their praising words. it's just wave after wave of bliss.

when you come to, the wand is clicked off. your head is resting on robins shoulder and her hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"come on, princess. buckley isn't done with you yet." he hums, beginning to untie you.

"your getting payback for that teasing." you threaten, making robin laugh.

"oh yeah, and how is that?" he smirks.

"when is steves next day off?" you smile devilishly up at robin.

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[l0stfoster]

Hey its paul anon again (thanks for the name 🫡) sorry ive been bombarding you with questions but I absolutely love this au and i love everyone to bits

So, can you go into more detail about darry and paul . Like, as much info abt them as you can throw at me those two are my boys . Like how did they officially get together , how did Paul go abt moving in and whats that situation like .

Also, when Paul is like kicked out and cut off from the family, does he end up just,, losing everything? I mean like, did his parents even let him get his belongings or did all he have was the clothes on his body and trauma. I would imagine his parents had control over his bank account too so they like shut that down too so he’s out here broke as fuck JHSJSHSJ sorry im just yapping

Anon never apologizes for asking I'm so open to answering them bc I love this au and I adore that so many people like it too. Parry fans are eating good bc the writers love Cursed!Parry just as much. I'll answer your questions ab them before I yap. To be totally honest, those two did not ever really make it official. Doing that requires two things they lack; emotional openness and no internalized homophobia. They both told themselves for the longest time that it wasn't a relationship... even after they started saying "I love you" in Latin and Fae respectively (Paul knows Latin bc spells, Darry knows Fae for obvious reasons), or when each other realized managed to figure out WHAT the other was saying,, or when they started sharing a bed and waking up intertwined,,, or when they started using far too affectionate pet names,,, or when things became far too intimate for it to be casual. They never actually make it official, one day they just slip into calling each other their boyfriends. The most official it ever got was when they flat out went "Oh yeah, we're dating" to the gang. The gang was making bets on that, by the way. Pony said weeks, Soda said a month, Steve said two, Two-Bit said a year. Ace got it right down to the date and time, nobody knows how she did it. They have no anniversary because they have no fucking idea when they really "got together". Paul never truly moved in either, he kinda just went from crashing there whenever his car wasn't an option, to taking up the couch almost every night, to sleeping in Darry's room, and eventually, it was just an unspoken thing that he was officially a member of the household. They have to kick him out for the day whenever the social worker comes to check on things, cause Darry can NOT take the risk of some kind of bad outcome to his mere existence. OK MORE GENERAL PARRY - Being with Paul reminds Darry that he's only 20 and still allowed to be something other than "the adult" sometimes. That brings a whole KIND of happiness that he can't describe. Dude's tail is fucked up due to physical trauma but that bitch wags so fast with Paul. - Darry on the other hand just generally grounds Paul. He's so used to the way of life that was on the west side that everything going on there is overwhelming sometimes. - They're very bad with vocal I love you's in English but they will say that shit ALL the time in different languages or through their actions. - Uh after Paul got jumped and had his letterman jacket stolen, Darry gave him an old denim jacket of his own bc Paul hated having his arms out in the open. - Pony audibly gags every time they're lovey-dovey. He's not homophobic unless you're Paul and Darry. - They'd shotgun cigarettes when they were younger (and the only reason they don't anymore is the account of Darry wanting to keep the fact that he smokes every rare occurrence on the down low) - Darry's purring has healing properties like a cat's purr (all of the brothers' have it actually) so this mf will just drag Paul down to cuddle and purr. - They are.. so down bad for each other. Darry does anything and Paul swoons, and they've def had an interaction that goes something like this: Paul, knowing Darry cant lie: "How do you feel about me right now?" Darry, immediately: "I'd marry you if I could." Paul & Darry:

As for being kicked out, Paul's parents quite literally just. Booted him, barely a warning. One minute he's arguing back for the first time since their keeping up appearances at the police event, and the next he's being dragged by the arm and shoved out of the house with threats of being killed if he dares to show his face back there. Just like that, all of it's pretty much gone; save for the clothes on his back and whatever he'd been carrying-- which was really only his car keys and his wallet. He was sleeping in his car for a bit until Two and Pony vaguely got on his ass because Darry's calls were going to voicemail and he was stupid enough to let it slip that he wasn't living at home anymore. Pony, being Pony, snitched. Can't have shit with that little gremlin around- so after finding his dumbass after having had the equivalent of an aneurism over suddenly being ghosted by Paul, Darry extended the offer for Paul to stay with them. He doesn't mind it being a permanent solution, but Paul is.. less fond for a few reasons; so he tries not to impose much while he looks for work. (He does eventually get something sorted out, so yippie! Helps with the bills what a guy) FORGOT TO ADD. He sneaks home at one point to try and get some of his shit because he knows where the spare key is, but gets cold feet at the door because he genuinely doesn't know if his dad will keep up with that threat.

[sillyhahasilly]

your takes on modern caldre aus? sorry if youve done this havent seen it on your blog :-)

hiii hello anon!! sorry this took so long! never ever feel bad for asking me for hcs and aus!! i love making them.

~~~

the only thing I've posted abt modern caldre is that i dont think they would still shoot up their school. i still stand by this, let me elaborate. i think both of them would still be really mentally ill, but they wouldn't need to be repressed as much bc of social and societal changes of now compared to 2001. AND they would have better access to the internet and we all know there are loads of stuff to enjoy and communities to join and feel belonging in instead of plotting mass murder. still, i enjoy thinking of what zero day would have been like if it happened today too!!

~~~

How would they have delt with covid?

lets say they would be seniors this year, like me. shit shut down in their 7th grade year and almost all of their 8th grade year would of been online. those are very much formative years lmao.

cal would js not do his work in online school. he would of been the kid playing video games and shit during zoom. andre would do decent online. he would enjoy not needing to deal w other people bs in person.

both would be really isolated, spending lots of time in their rooms. chronically online. !!tw sh!! i think this is when both of them would start shing. a lot of mental illnesses emerging.

cal would of been a discord kid during this time too. he dragged andre into it with him. i also think cal would e date some rando on discord.

i think they would also be fully realizing their sexualities during this time bc thats what everyone was doing on tik tok. gay ptide ig

andre would have a full on emo faze during lockdown that i dont think would ever go away.

~~~

Other random modern hcs!!!

both of them would be into violent video games. andre would love CoD. cal would like horror games and watching people play them. they would pull all nighters js to play video games and drop slurs to anyone who is better then them.

kys jokes all the time.

both would watch gore all the time and send it to each other.

both would be such gatekeepers for like anything 😭😭 if an artist they listened too became "tiktokifed" they both would LOSE IT. if an underground indie movie blew up they liked they would rage message eachother abt it.

andre would fall for those fucking military adds. rip

andre would not like skibidi toilet shit idk what yall are on. he would find it so annoying. cal, tho, would find some brainrot shit funny.

I do kinda think andre would use tiktok sometimes but would never post. cal would use tik tok all the time and his fyp would be cursed. so would cals insta reel feed. I think both of them would have a soft spot for insta reels cuz they can be rlly mean on there.

yk those school confession pages? andre once sent one anonymously alluding that someone was gonna shoot up his school cuz he was really pissed and the page got shut down. admin threatened to get police involved. he is LUCKY no one looked into it too much. cal thought the whole situation was hilarious.

cal is chronically online and stays up late a lot on his phone/computer/wtv.

~~~

that's all!!! this is very all over the place like my inspo for these lmao. if anyone has specific modern au requests lmk!! or any requests in general :)

[fantasticallyfruity4]

Okay idk abt where y’all are from but my local HS had a paramedic on site for football games at all times.

And considering we’re all down bad for paramedic Steve rn, this feels like a great au (Also, has to be punk Steve bc like, it’s me come on, I want to give Eddie a heart attack.)

Lucas decides he wants to try out for football fall of sophomore year and the part is, begrudgingly supportive.

And max and Dustin are on marching band, so they’re at the games to. And Mike and el and will and Jonathan are just there on the basis of comradely and good friendly support. And of corse Eddie and his van have to be the kids chief mode of transport.

And Eddie doesn’t meet paramedic Steve (cute paramedic Steve with the lip ring and the nose ring and the eyebrow stud) because poor sweet little Lucas got squished by some freak out on the field, or bc his good friend chrissy took a hell of a tumble coming down from a cheer and he’s such a worried friend fussing over her like a mother hen, or bc somehow someway Dustin got whacked in the nose by a flute.

No, he does this all by himself. All his own brilliance. He went to check on the Byers + co contingency before going back to hovering over his little band babies + his two accidentally adopted jocks, and takes a fucking header off the bleachers. Clears a good 3 feet if he doesn’t say so himself.

So sweet pretty paramedic Steve of corse rushes over to him in an instant, sitting him up against the side bleachers, shining a light in his eyes, asking where he is, when it is, his name, and they’ve got a little crowd of the byers + wheeler + the little Mayfield and Henderson but Steve’s paying them no attention and Eddie doesn’t even see them.

The paramedic introduces himself as Steve, he says “I’m Steve and I’m gonna make sure that you’re feeling okay tonight, okay sir?” And eddie nods dumbly.

And Eddie is answering sure, but he’s really making Steve worried bc he’s so wide eyed and taking a second to answer and it’s just worry some (he’s having a very in love mental breakdown, okay, let him be. He’s speed running visions of a life together. He’s understanding what “love at first sight” means for the first time in his life.). He’s got a the man he didn’t even know was in his dreams fussing over him. He’s going to explode.

“If I knew I’d have such a cute paramedic I’d have fallen off that wayyyy earlier tonight” Eddie says then slams his mouth shut and goes wide eyed in horror. Steve just laughs, a beautiful sound. Not at Eddie, no it doesn’t feel taunting, it’s a beautiful sweet sound.

“We’ll, if you’re thinking clearly enough to hit on me I think you’re heads definitely okay. Do you have a headache at all? Any dizzyness? You took a hell of a header, Eddie.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No just like my actual nose hurts from smacking into the dirt”.

Steve nods. “May I?” “Corse man it’s your job”.

Steve chuckles. “Stop making me laugh man, I’m on the clock. Does this hurt?” “No” Eddie answers in the most nasally voice with Steve’s fingers still squeezing his nose and he wants to die because what was that sound? But Steve just smiles softly. “Good, awesome. No pain? Breathing okay?”. Eddie nods dumbly. “So I’m gonna bet it’s just sore from smacking into the dirt, not broken.”.

Eddie nods dumbly. Again. For the 20th time that night. He can’t function. “So why don’t we just get these cuts here cleaned up?” Steve decides, reaching into his bag for a million supplies. “Think I’m gonna get any cool scars?” “Nah sorry man, not with these little guys. But it’s for the best, why mess with perfection anyway, right?” Steve winks dabbing some shit that BURNS on Eddie’s cheek before putting on a bandaid and Eddie might be going into cardiac arrest.

“I like your uh, piercings” Eddie spurts out like an idiot.

Steve grins. “Thanks. Got a peak of those bats when I first came over, got any more?”. Eddie snorts a laugh. “Yeah a shit ton. Nothing easy to see though my uncle would hang me if I made myself any less hirable”. Steve chuckles at that. “Hey man the whole f-d is all old military dudes covered in their shitty navy tats, i wouldn’t be too worried.” “Oh so there’s more where this came from? Maybe I should fall more” Eddie taxes, just a little. “Watch it” Steve chuckles.

“Okay I think you’re pretty patched up, handsome. But considering everything don’t drive tonight, especially if you have passengers. You have a ride home? Someone to call?” “Yeah I’ll just make it one of my friend Jonathan’s problem, that’s fine”.

“Okay, good” Steve nodded, taking out a small pen and pad from his pocket and writing something. “And this friend Jonathan… he’s not a boyfriend, right?”.

Eddies jaw fucking drops. Literally drops. He’s going to spontaneously combust. “Nah, no, nope man” he stutters out. “Okay, gotcha. If anything starts hurting tonight, if you get dizzy, any nose bleeds, give me a call. Or… you know, when you’re feeling better give me a call too”. He hands eddie the piece of paper with a smiley face and the name ‘Steve (the paramedic)’ with 10 scrawled numbers on it, as he stands up, offering eddie a hand up himself.

Eddie doesn’t want to think about the strength steve has that this that easy to lug his 160 pounds of trailer trash ass up. Or how he feels about what looks like the singular inch steve has on him, even in his boots.

[not-5-rats]

Holy shoot it's been a while but here we are again ig

Bug Army Questions/ Scenarios! Also quick warning but I really do ramble on here sorry <3

(The new au talk gave me some ideas lol)

1) Smth that makes them cry like instantly?

2) Modern! AU

What's their go-to cinema/ theatre snack?

3) Opinion on velvet? (the fabric)

4) Yandere AU! (Check @strayharmony943 acc for list of Yandere Bugs/ the obsessed/ to enlist ur Bug)

For the Yandere Bugs: who are they obsessed with? why?

For the Bugs being obsessed over: how do they feel abt smbdy being obsessed with them?

For the rest of the Army: how do they support those who are being obsessed over?

5) Scenario #1 - back to Yandere AU! :D

Bug had noticed that Chester's behaviour had been slightly odd recently. He hadn't spent much time out of his room, Bug doesn't remember the last time they spoke, the biggest pointer that something was up was the flower beds...all the flowers were dead. He hadn't even come out to water them

Bug decided they would go check in on him, just to see if he was okay...if he was even alive. They knocked on his door, no response, they knock3e again, still nothing, so they announced that they were coming in and pushed the door open

Chester had been staring into a wardrobe but as soon as Bug entered the room he roughly pulled a the door of said wardrobe shut, hiding whatever was in there from view. He turned quickly to look at them. His eyes were bloodshot and wild yet he tried to regain his composure.

"*Bug*! What are you doing in here?"

It wasn't till now that Bug got a true look at the room...it was a mess? Chester was usually so well put together, so neat, so pristine but now there were clothes everywhere, grime/ dust covered every surface, dead plants surrounding the entire area...what tf happened?

Chester is staring at Bug waiting for their answer as they try to silently usher them out of his room

6) Continuing from Scenario #1

It had been a few days since Bug had went to check on Chester, they had failed to find out what was in that wardrobe but today they seemed to have found a way

Nobody knows where he went but Chester suddenly dissapeared from the house and Bug decided to take the chance and find out what's om the wall. They knew he could be back any moment so they had to act fast.

They snuck into the room, being mindful that Chester may have set up some sort of trap to harm those who came in when he was gone...luckily there wasn't anything. They cautiously made their way over to the wardrobe, pulled it open and....

Photos, poems, flowers, gifts...what? They stared at the wall until they finally realised what they were looking at, a shrine. They picked up one of the many photos that lay there, it was a photo of Duarte training in the forest nearby...they didn't seem aware that the photo was taken, they looked at another Ulysseus playing their flute to some of the Baby Bugs.

As they scanned the rest of the contents of the wardrobe they found that everything linked back to those two, the photos were all of them, (if there was smbdy else in the picture they were scribbled over in bold, black ink) the poems all abt them, flowers with labels describing why they reminded Chester of the two, letters addressed to them and gifts they had given him/ gifts he intended to give to them.

Holy shit...he was watching them, constantly. He was fucking obsessed with them!

What do they do with this new, sparkling information?

☆---------------☆

Huge thank you to Duarte/ @puffin-smoke and Ulysseus/ @lunaritychuwolf for sacrificing their Bug to this awful fate <3

Tags -

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @reefhastoomanyaccs

[f1nalboys]

i need to know your thoughts on ghostface randy?

- 🐺

oh anon… u have unlocked the floodgates. i’m drunk and high rn AND on my phone so pls bare w me while i prob spell stuff wrong

i think abt ghostface randy probably every single day for at least an hour <333333 i Love him. i think there’s def a personality shift w him as opposed to regular randy, like i think he’d be a little bit more withdrawn and just a little more morbid (which i know is hard given that he’s already a morbid freaky son of a bitch LMFAO)

he is VIOLENT like ….. this guy is one of the most gruesome ghostfaces and i stand by that!!!! ghostface randy has a lot of pent up anger at the world. like yeah he has a good home life and he has friends but he is ANGRY and he knows he won’t get Every Single Thing he wants in life and that people view him in a certain light despite his best to change their minds, and that pisses him off. i also think he could do it solo but he’d be the Best with a partner (ghostface reader anyone?????)

randy loves showing off, we see this time and time again at the stupid jokes he makes constantly. he has never shyed away from having all eyes on him, so having a partner who won’t be scared by what he’s doing is not only the biggest turn on, it’s going to make him the most violent mf u have ever seen!!!!! i don’t wanna say there’s a sexual thing abt killing for him but like… there totally is 😭 the act of killing is so hot to him, the power dynamics and the act of having someone life in his own hands, it is enough to get his adrenaline pumping enough to where he either has to fuck or jerk off right after it’s done (and yes sometimes still covered in blood sorry!!!!!)

he would have a list of people he wants to kill initially but i think he’d space them out so he can’t be connected to it (classic horror slasher shit, u know?) so there will be random people that accidentally piss him off or just cross paths with him at the wrong times that get it too.

he’s def a better liar in this au bc canon randy is a good liar but only to one person (like how sid doesn’t think he likes her but everyone else knows he does bc he won’t shut the fuck up abt it) so u cant trust ANYTHING he says!!! even in a committed relationship, he’d lie abt small things with no stakes just to see if he can get away with it (he can)

he’s more flirty and confident in his sexual life than regular randy too but it’s romantic stuff that throws him and he is nervous abt!!!!! i need him.

oh also this randy has a weird natural charisma where it’s really hard to hate him but when he does something just fucking weird u will never forgive him or trust him again, u know? but also good luck keeping ur friends if u fall out w him, he’s turning them against u … an all or nothing kinda guy

[toothlesstdm]

hey. (leans on nonexistent wall) wanna hear about my SB rewrite . uhm

me again. hi. i am sorry for not shutting up about my Security Breach rewrite all of the sudden I prommy I still have other content upcoming too but . FNAF <3

here is a snippit of my rewrite!! specifically on vanessa!! can you tell who im fixating on right now!! (head in hands) (expect a lot of stuff abt her :')) sorry its a bit rough; it's my first time tackling something that's like a whole rewrite so i'mm still working on things!! if people are interested i'll maybe write a doc or just do frequent updates here :] Think it'd be fun to start staring more story related stuff here (be it like, rewrites, OCs, AUs, ect!!)

if anyone has any questions abt stuff or has any doodle reqs based around the au, do let me know! this is an invite to talk to me abt FNAF . its my biggest fixation alongside PKMN/TLOZ/WOF/OW rn..

Here are some doodles I did a while back too!

They're a bit rough too since I did these on impulse/very quickly and when I first started off the rewrite.. I mentioned this in my design post but i'm also working on a video talking about my rewrite! (I have never done a video talking abt stuff before!! ive only done animations on my channel so.. :'D)