#anyone else just that either he's not friends with anyone else or he's really really bad at showing it

[gayeddiejuice]

🚨🚨 boots on the ground reporting 🚨🚨

ok just got off the phone with my friend, she is the mvp called me as soon as she clocked out while she walked to the train.

ok. first things first i asked. we’re they nice? and she said YES she said they were probably the easiest table anyone had she felt bad for everyone else cause she kept seeing all the handlers running back and forth and she was just chilling pretty much. she said they dinner was pre ordered but they didn’t eat much of it cause they probably ate at the pre party event. she was also like “did you know oliver is vegan?” LOL anyways. as the main handler the job is to make sure the vips have everything they need, so for example she would take all their food orders and then send it to the kitchen and then there’s a team of waiters who bring the food, the handler never leaves the table you have to be there in case they need anything.

she said since their team preordered most of the food it made her job so much easier, she basically just stood by their table all night just in case they needed anything. she did order lots of drinks tho she said they drank A LOT 😂😂 but it was mostly for all the people that kept coming over to their table, apparently they were super popular people from other shows kept coming over to talk to them. also lots of the other guests which is mostly just the advertisers, that’s the whole point of the party abc/disney has all these celebs there to mingle with advertisers to get them to sell stuff on their network. and she said everyone wanted to come to the 911 table!!

after the dinner portion the actual party starts and that’s when things get hectic cause the vips always scatter and if you’re their handler you gotta know where they all are at all times. i do not miss this job btw it gave me major anxiety.

during the party they pretty much stuck together which made her job so much easier and she said they all remembered her name when she only told it to them once when she introduced herself. listen she doesn’t know anything about this cast she kept calling them the girl and the asian guy or the two hot guys. which. yall. she said they were all extremely beautiful she said she kept blushing cause ryan (she fell in love with him btw) kept calling her by her name and asking her questions and he kept organizing the plates and glasses on the table to make it easier for the wait staff to pick up.

other than that she said later in the night she kept losing track of them cause again they were so popular 😂😂 mostly aisha, she said she seemed to be friends with EVERYONE and she said, i repeat she knows nothing about rpf she didn’t know what her words would mean, she said ryan and oliver (the two hot guys) hung out together the whole night especially once kenny left, she said he left at like 8 right after dinner, and aisha kept going to talk to other people but ryan and oliver stuck together all night. I said oh im so sure. 🤭

that’s pretty much it, i asked if she could hear their convos and she could but she didn’t really pay attention cause she didn’t recognize any names. she did say that they were all cracking jokes all night and they laughed a lot which idk warms my heart 🥹🥹

btw ryan and oliver did leave together and i think they were going to either go somewhere else with other people or they were having like an after party at the hotel? cause they kept telling people yeah we’ll see you “after” she didn’t really catch where “after” was but when they said bye to aisha ryan said “see ya at the hotel” and oliver told her to not take too long 😂😂 so idk I guess they’re still partying.

[satorucci]

drug dealer! gojo

♡ cw: dubcon, drug use, manipulation, breeding, rough sex, dacryphilia, dumbification, corruption, gojo is a shady drug dealer with really good shit and just can't stand the idea of not having reader :(

♡ currently listening to: one of the girls - the weeknd

♡ author’s note: remember kids, this is fictional! don’t be like gojo in this fic irl!! next fic will be a request sent in! asks, submissions, and inbox are open - to see the schedule, please go to my wips page linked in my pinned navigation post! mwah <3

MDNI

♡ everyone knows gojo. among the student body of his college campus, he's a god. according to professors and admin, he's a stain on the well-funded, prestigious campus's name and reputation. for the police, he's the most annoying collegiate dealer they've ever tried to nail down. seriously, how can one kid who just turned drinking age be so slippery?

♡ "where can i get that adderall you were talking about?" "do you know anyone i can get good bud from?" "I'm going to the club on saturday! know anyone with some clean molly?" the answer is always gojo. if the answer isn't gojo, then it's geto, his right-hand man. gojo is the ruler on a campus where the use of study and party drugs is absolutely rampant. what else could get these students through their grueling hours of studying for life-path-determining tests and unpaid internship work?

♡ gojo, who, though he's known as the "big man" on campus, rarely makes appearances. it's your third year of college, and you still haven't caught a glimpse of him. granted, you don't really run in the same circles as gojo, nor do you run in the circles that would be anywhere near him. no, not you. you're a model student - a teacher's pet who tutors undergrads in both chemistry and english because you're one of the chosen ones who's good at both the sciences and the arts. you're the students that professors trust to run errands for them, to explain the content of the class when they're not in the room, the one everyone relies on to do their homework so that they can cheat off you. and you do it all without the stupid adderrall or the weed, or whatever else it might be that people take to help them cope with college and life.

♡ you, who doesn't even acknowledge your burnout when it hits. you, who stays up into the wee hours of the morning, textbooks and notebooks and pens and paper and cheatsheets and - ohmygod, sometimes you think your head might combust. but you never let anyone know. not your roommate or your friends back home who either decided that college wasn't for them or that they'd do better at a community college. as you sit at your desk, frustrated, head in hands (for what seems like the millionth time this year), for a split second you wonder what it'd be like to be like your peers. to relax more, to go out sometimes, to throw your cares in the fucking wind. you haven't even slept with anyone since your freshman year of college, and it was so underwhelming you've completely forgotten everything about the experience. the guys face, his name, even what his dick felt like. the only release you've felt the past two years has been from your right hand and the vibrator that sits on your nightstand. you let out a deep sigh. so is life. and then you're back to work.

♡ gojo, who is in his fifth (yes, fifth) and final year of college, decides that a great way to celebrate would be to orchestrate his own send-off. a party for the ages. a party that would eclipse any party to ever grace his college campus, past, present, or future. and so, he and geto get to work on concocting their plan. for a moment, they debate on a theme, sitting quietly as their last few functioning braincells struggle to come up with an idea. their eyes meet and they burst into laughter, instead. "oh please. fuck the theme. everyone'll hear it's my party and they'll show" gojo tells geto nonchalantly, to which geto huffs out a laugh and nods. "you're not wrong. you are the satoru gojo. i mean fuck, they don't even call you by your first name." gojo's face twists into one of confusion as his eyebrow quirks up. "they don't call you by your first name, either." geto stares at gojo, oblivious to the simple fact. "seriously, suguru, lay off the weed."

♡ you, who, for some reason, have actually found yourself palling around in the infamous gojo's circle. well, not for some reason. it's because your roommate, shoko, invited you to come out to a party allegedly being hosted by gojo and geto. at first, you didn't believe it - the invitation, that is. you didn't have many doubts in your head that the party was happening and that it was, in fact, being hosted by the most infamous pair on campus, but you were shocked when shoko invited you of all people. you didn't know much about your rather quiet and intimidating roommate. she was a short girl with a stoic face who didn't even care about stepping outside to chain-smoke her cigarettes. "hey, shoko... d-do you mind maybe smoking outside the dorm room? it's just, the smell settles into my bedding and clothes, and-" shoko had cut you off with a simple, "nah. m' gonna keep smoking in here." when you had brought it up not long after the two of you had been assigned as roommates and moved in together. `"too cold outside." it was in the high 80s, nearing the 90s in the middle of August when you'd asked.

♡ you, who shoko had grown somewhat fond of during her time living with you, told you factually that she had invited you to accompany her to the party because she "doesn't have any friends besides gojo and geto" and that she "couldn't show up with no one because they were probably gonna be stoned out of their minds or looking for a girl dumb enough to spend the night with them". shoko then asserted that she was neither, so she needed company while at the party. sometimes you forgot that tiny, quiet shoko formed a trio with gojo and geto. she just seemed so different from the stories you'd heard about them - so much more mature and level-headed. shoko kept to herself, preferring solitude and silence over the rowdiness of the weekends on a college campus. sometimes, she would go over to gojo and geto's apartment and smoke with them (you never asked what they were smoking), but she never stayed for too long. she always made her way back before you turned the lights out, signaling the end of your nightly study session.

♡ you, who have no idea how to dress for this party because you haven't been to a party in two years. you have no clue what the new fashion trends are, or if you even have something that might look like it fits in with the massive crowd that's sure to be at gojo and geto's send-off party. shoko plays on her phone, sucking leisurely on a lollipop as she tells you, "don' worry about a theme or anything. gojo and geto were too stupid to think of one, so just come as you are." you grimace at her words. it's easy for her to say that. she's friends with them, so of course, they won't care what attire she comes in. as for you, you have another year left at this college and don't want to be known as the girl who was severely underdressed for what was likely to be one of the biggest parties that campus had ever seen. you pace around the room, throwing clothes all over the floor, for nearly an hour before shoko sighs deeply and tosses her phone on her bed. "watch out." you move out of her way as she makes her way to your closet and picks out an outfit. "wear this. they'll like it." as you stare at the skimpy outfit - a tube top you think you might've grown out of a year ago paired with jean shorts that allow the fat of your ass to hang out of the bottom - you wonder who "they" is.

♡ shoko helps you do your hair and makeup in your dorm before setting off. she also picks out your lotion and perfume. it's honestly the closest you've ever felt to her since the two of you have been living together. "what should we do about coming back to the dorm? should i dd?" you ask shoko, and you've never seen her grimace the way she does in that moment. "jesus, fuck no. we'll probably just spend the night at their place. they know who you are, so they'll be cool with it." and suddenly your night has gotten even worse. even though it's a saturday night, you still have stuff to do on sunday, and shoko is already a late sleeper. you imagine she'll only sleep even later after drinking and smoking whatever it is she- wait. "you talk about me to them?!" shoko returns her attention to her phone. "yeah, sometimes. you're the only roommate i've had in college that i kind of like." kind of like? either way, you take the compliment, and it leaves you feeling as though you can't deny her offer to stay at their place for the night, nor light into her for telling those two misfits anything about you.

♡ you walk alongside shoko, taking small sips of the drink she keeps passing to you on the walk to gojo and geto's apartment. thankfully, it isn't a far walk. they live right on the outskirts of campus, but you still decided to wear tennis shoes to save yourself the pain of walking and partying in heels. shoko, who becomes more talkative and bubbly the more she sips on her drink, finds herself telling you more about gojo and geto. about how she's known them since middle school, about how geto is actually a gentle giant but that he gets jealous of the attention gojo gets, sometimes. about gojo, who, by all of shoko's accounts, is a major pain in her ass. she doesn't give many positive reviews of him, but she does say that the attention he gets is warranted. "he's actually really smart when he's not stupid high. and it's hard to beat a smart dude with good looks." you wonder what he looks like. you overheard a group of girls on campus once talking about gojo, about the blue of his eyes and how it was unnaturally beautiful. "hey, shoko? what does gojo look like?" you ask, shyly. shoko sighs. "you'll know when you see him."

♡ you, who finds yourself trying your best to squeeze through the ocean of bodies that is spilling out into the large parking lot of the apartment complex. the cops'll definitely be here in a few hours. the music coming from the house is so loud that it's causing the pavement of the parking lot to thrum with vibrations. how in the hell do people do this kind of shit every weekend? shoko is leading you, her hand in yours, into the crowd, which, to you, resembles the pits of hell. there have to be hundreds of people outside the house, so you don't even want to think of how packed it is on the inside. shoko pushes past the throngs of people, as tiny as she is. she moves them to the side as if she holds authority over them, and you follow with no questions asked, trying your best to keep up as the alcohol she kept giving you has definitely entered your system. you aren't drunk, at least, not yet. but you're definitely feeling something.

♡ shoko, who pushes past the crowd with ease and ignores the people yelling at her as she marches up to the closed front door of gojo and geto's house. a young man with brown hair stands guard outside the door, smiling stupidly even though people are arguing with him about getting in the house. "move, haibara. my roommate and i want in." shoko says. the man, haibara, laughs and scoots to the side. "be careful, shoko. they're getting pretty crazy in there, so if you need me, just holler, 'kay?" shoko rolls her eyes and proceeds to push past haibara to enter the house. as she does, a sea of people attempt to flood into the unit, but haibara swiftly stops them. the door is shut before you can see exactly what it is that he does to prevent their passage, but either way, you're impressed. then, you turn your attention to the inside of the house.

♡ you, who immediately wants to leave the moment you step foot in the front door. the apartment isn't small by any means. in fact, it's a townhome that looks to be about three stories. but all three stories are packed with people who look more akin to sardines. shoko, still holding your hand, turns to say something to you, but you can't hear her over the insanely loud bass and treble of the speaker. you can't even pinpoint where the speaker is. it sounds like the sound is engulfing the entire house. as shoko turns back around and continues to drag you around the house, you notice the smell. nearly everyone around you is smoking, and you're sure it's weed. some are smoking cigarettes, but the majority of the skunky smell is coming from the blunts and joints that hang off of everyone's lips. people gathered together in groups as they smoke, people smoking by themselves in the tiniest corners possible, potential hookups passing their blunts to one another. yeah, this is totally not your scene.

♡ shoko, who finally reaches her intended destination - the kitchen. you watch as she, still pushing people away, begins to rummage through the freezer, pulling out a bottle of some sort of fancy alcohol. "it's the best they got!" she nearly screams over the music. "i-is it okay to take it?" you ask. shoko leans in, motioning for you to repeat your question, but you have a feeling she heard the first time, so you motion to the bottle instead. shoko's mouth splits into a wide grin. "time for shots!"

♡ shoko, who, you had no clue, is a heavyweight. shoko, who wants to go shot-for-shot, is absolutely whooping your ass right now. after the fourth shot paired with the alcohol you drank on your way to the party, the room is starting to spin just a little bit, but you feel good. for once, there's no stress, no guilt over not being pent up in your room studying, no desire to overachieve to prove your worth - and a lot of horniness. before you can stop yourself, you're scanning the room, looking for any potential takers. you've never thought much of your looks, so you aim for someone you think would be realistic to take to bed. none of the jocks and frat guys. but you also don't want one of the burnout stoners in your bed, either. what's it really matter? dick is dick, after all. as you're scanning the room, you watch the girls who are on the kitchen tabletops, dancing with their tits completely out, and for a moment, you wish you had their confidence. they're beautiful, and it's no wonder they were granted entrance to the party along with the honor of putting on a show that's sure to gain them more than just a few admirers tonight. they rolls their hips and flick their hair as they twirl around on the tables, grabbing at their thongs and pulling them down as if they're going to reveal themselves, but they never do. it's all a tease, and they're enjoying it so much.

♡ you, who continues to drink well past your limit. you, who should've stopped about three shots ago, recognize just how hungover you're going to be in the morning, but you're so drunk you don't care at all. surprisingly, shoko sticks by your side, knocking back shots with you, playing a round of beer pong with you (which she wins for your team), attempting to gossip with you over the loud music. everything feels good right now. everything feels so good. "you look like you're having fun!" a voice shouts over the music, loud enough for you to hear clearly, loud enough for you to turn around and come face-to-face with-

♡ "gojo!!" shoko shouts before jumping in the man's arms, totally wasted. you notice how the entire crowd turns their attention to the two men who have just entered the kitchen, likely from the backdoor connected to it. the man with the long hair pulled back into a bun must be geto. you've never seen either of them, but you're starstruck seeing them for the first time. shoko wasn't at all lying about gojo being quite the looker. snow white hair and eyes bluer than the fucking sky. he towers over both you and shoko, in fact, he seems as though he might be the tallest person in the room. but he's muscular, as well. this isn't the guy you'd think was a burnout stoner. both gojo and geto look like they could be straight-A students with incredible post-college job offers, though shoko has told you they have neither. "fuck she's drunk..." geto grimaces. the man with beautifully traditional looks turns towards you. "you must be the roommate? nic to meet you." he doesn't bother shouting over the music, his words are clear and concise and it's like they cut through the soundwaves in the room. "y-you, too!" you yell back, not a bit of grace. he gives you a gentle smile, and you think you might just melt. no. absolutely not. there's no way i'm turning into one of those campus girls who squeal over these two. you turn your attention to gojo, who has wrapped his arms around shoko and is swinging her around happily, as if she were a ragdoll.

♡ you, who find yourself upstairs in a private room with gojo, geto, and shoko, who after being spun around so much by gojo, decided she needed a toilet or trashcan immediately. you can't deny, the way gojo threw shoko over his shoulder and hauled her to (what you're assuming is) his room was attractive. geto motioned for you to follow them as gojo led the path to the bedroom, the crowd's gaze stuck on the two men that were hauling ass up the stairs. as shoko throws up in gojo's bathroom, geto carves out a spot on gojo's king size bed for you to sit comfortably. gojo remains in the bathroom to help shoko throw up all the alcohol she's digested over the past two hours. "can't believe we're finally getting to meet the roommate in person." geto says to you. you shrug and nod. "shoko says you're like... a study addict or something." you watch as the man crawls onto the bed, sitting across from you at the foot of it, and leans down to pick up some kind of tray from the ground. "yeah, i guess you could say that. i definitely don't get out much." geto nods, pulling out more containers and some sort of torch and - ohmygodhesabouttostartsmoking. "you should get out more. you caught satoru's attention when he walked in. it was you he was initially talking to, not shoko. when shoko gets drunk she only wants to be around her friends, so she saw satoru and pretty much locked onto her target." his eyes widen a bit after he's finished talking. "not saying that shoko doesn't consider you a friend, too! she just hasn't seen satoru in a while." you let out a laugh to ease the tension that had settled over the room. "no, i totally get it, no worries. to be honest, i didn't even know shoko considered us friends until tonight." you watch as geto masterfully takes some grinded up weed, opens up a blunt wrap, and empties the tobacco from it. "yeah, usually she hates her roommates, but she's never said anything bad about you. clear indicator that she likes you, 'cause typically she hates everything and everyone."

♡ you, who watches as getou prepares not one, not two, but three blunts before turning to you and saying, "i rolled one for satoru, shoko, and i, but shoko has told us before that you don't smoke, so i didn't roll you one. sure you don't wanna try miss straight-A-student?" you give geto a gentle smile and shake your head. "think i'll be okay. thanks for the offer, though." only a few moments later, gojo emerges from the bathroom with shoko, her arm thrown across his shoulders as he holds her up with one arm. he's so big... you try to physically shake the thoughts from your head as gojo hoists shoko up, once again, throwing her over his shoulder. "suguru, i'm taking her to your bedroom. she can't even hold her damn head up right." geto makes a noise of annoyance and throw his head back, pretty lips pouting as he sets aside his rolling tray (as he called it) and puts one of the freshly wrapped blunts behind his ear. "you so owe me for babysitting duty." geto says as he climbs off the bed. gojo looks at him and smirks before motioning towards you. "i think we're even. i'm stuck with the kid who doesn't even smoke." you physically shy away, embarrassed at the fact that that's all gojo thinks of you as - the kid who doesn't even smoke. you're sure that it's going to be a nuisance for him, but being that shoko insisted on spending the night here, you don't really have anywhere else to turn.

♡ gojo, who joins you in his bedroom once he and geto have gotten shoko settled into geto's bed. you shift awkwardly to give way to gojo's long limbs as he climbs into the bed, reaching for the rolling tray on the floor and grabbing the blunt geto had rolled for him. you don't know much about blunts - or weed in general - but the blunt looks pretty perfect, straight out of the movies. "you don't gotta move around too much, pretty girl. it's a king size, so there's more than enough room for the both of us." gojo flashes you a pretty smile and you feel yourself recoil because of his beauty. his flashy white teeth, his messy white hair, his muscular arms that reach for a lighter. "heard you don't smoke?" you nod your head. "any reason why? or is it just because you're a study addict or something?" a study addict or something. that's exactly what geto said. they must spend a lot of time with each other. "i think i just never really had the opportunity." you can hear a slight slur in your words from the alcohol. though you know that you're probably nothing more than a nuisance for gojo in this moment, you can't help the flush that floods your cheeks. he really is that hot. "never had the opportunity, huh?" your entranced by the way gojo flicks the lighter and brings the blunt to his lips, taking a long, deep drag before looking at you and smiling, a bit of smoke escaping through his lips. "you have an opportunity now, pretty girl."

♡ you, who shakes your head vigorously. no way. absolutely not. no way. you've already drank so much, and you don't think mixing a drug you've never done with a really hot guy you don't know would be the smartest thing you could do at this very moment. gojo gives you a pout that makes it so, so hard to resist his offer. "c'mon, not even for me? it is my graduation party, after all. you don't even have to smoke the whole thing with me. a puff or two'd have you feelin' real good." you bite your lip, contemplating what you should do. the tiny bit of logic left in your brain is telling you this is a terrible idea, but the drunk part of you keeps repeating in gojo's sing-songy voice "a puff or two'd have you feelin' real good." and the way he keeps calling you pretty girl. the way he almost purrs the words out has you feeling as though, maybe, just maybe, gojo is a safe place. maybe gojo knows exactly what's right for you.

♡ you, who reaches your hand out slowly, as if asking permission to take the blunt in your hands. you keep your eyes trained on the blunt in his hand, and nowhere else. if you keep looking him directly in the eyes, you're scared you might just fade into a sea you'll never swim your way out of. gojo chuckles and gives you a "tut tut" as he wags his finger. "the hell? didn't you want me to hit it?" you can't stop the drunken words from falling out of your mouth. "'course i do, but you gotta do it right your first time. lean in close." begrudgingly, you lean in close to the man, feeling yourself wobble as you do. satoru puts the blunt between his lips, inhaling deeply, before bringing his lips to yours.

♡ you, who is wide-eyed and confused as you feel the weed smoke enter your lungs while satoru's lips are pressed firmly against yours. he even fists your hair, keeping you in place as he blows nearly every last bit into your lungs. you try your best to inhale, try your bestnot to cough up the musky smoke because you can't embarrass yourself in front of the satoru gojo. when satoru's lips part from yours, you immediately feel the haze of euphoria glossing over your entire body. your brain, already fucked from the alcohol, becomes absolute mush. and you totally do cough. a lot.

♡ satoru, who chuckles heartily at you as you cough, reaches for a drink that's sitting next to him. "wash it down with this." he hands it to you, and when you sip it, you realize it's more alcohol. your hands feel heavy, your entire body feels heavy, but at the same time, your mind feels as ease. no, your mind feels good. satoru was right, you feel amazing. you can't really think straight, the room is twisting and turning, coming in and out of view as you enjoy the feeling you're getting from the high and the alcohol. satoru can easily tell that you're fucked up. "wow, you really haven't smoked before. and the first time you do, you get cross-faded? that's the kind of girl i need in my life." it's no wonder so many girls fall for him. aside from his looks, he's charming. always calling you "pretty girl", saying you're "the kind of girl he needs in his life". you bet he's had many women fall in love with him in his short life span.

♡ you, who can't hold your tongue with all the substances coursing through your body. "you don' mean that" you slur the sentence out. satoru quirks an eyebrow up at you as he continues to hit the blunt. "n' stop callin' me "pretty girl", i bet you use that on everyone." the grin that splits satoru's face is oh so attractive. "no, i only use it on pretty girls." he responds. his voice, a bit huskier than earlier from the smoke, sounds like heaven to your ears. "i'm boringly average." you respond, and satoru makes a face of disgust. "i don't smoke with boringly average people. ever since shoko told us about you i've been wanting to see you with my own eyes, but she said you pretty much never leave that damn dorm room." before you can respond, satoru's eyes flick towards you. "wan' another hit?"

♡ you, who finds yourself taking yet another hit of this fucking blunt. not because you want to. certainly not because you need it, but because satoru wants you to. satoru... i can call him that, right? satoru, once again, "shotguns" the blunt for you, setting it down to reach up for your hair. this time, his lips, while pressed firmly against yours, move a bit, as if he’s trying to actually kiss you. you feel it as his free hand finds purchase on your bare thigh, and the thought of him possibly moving his hand just a bit higher plays in your mind. you don’t know if it’s from the alcohol or the weed, but your body feels electric. the press of satoru’s firm lips, the way his hand is now gripping your thigh, its all too much. when he pulls away from the “shotgun”, you find yourself embarrassingly leaning forward, practically begging him for more. after your second hit, the world is completely hazy. you can barely make out the contents of the room around you, the mess of blankets on the bed. the only thing that’s clear is satoru sitting in front of you, satisfied grin splitting his mouth. “look at you, pretty girl. fucked up, huh?”

♡ you, who is absolutely entranced as satoru continues to talk to you as he smokes. you can barely make out what he’s saying with all the blood rushing through your head. or maybe it’s rushing out? maybe you’ve landed on a completely different plane of existence and satoru is your only company. it feels as though the two of you are the only people in the world at this very moment. you readjust yourself on the plush mattress, leaning back on the pillows behind you. “and then suguru- oh, you feelin’ tired?” he asks you, cutting off the story he was previously telling you. to be honest, you don’t even really know what he was going on about. you shake your head. “not tired, jus’… i don’ know. jus’ feel different…” you trail off.

♡ you, who doesn’t notice the feral grin that graces satoru’s lips as he sees you drifting in and out of consciousness. you, who doesn’t know that shoko has shown satoru pictures od you, shown him your social media, and satoru has asked about you almost everyday since then. you, who doesn’t know that satoru often talks to suguru about “turning you out” because you’re just “too cute to be that innocent”. satoru, who wants to corrupt you completely. your eyes drift open for a moment, the world spinning around you as you feel the bed moving. satoru climbs into the spot next to you. sweet you, who doesn’t know that satoru loves corrupting girls like you on campus. you, who is so hot, you’re burning up. who is flushed from head to toe, not understanding why you’re on fire, why your pussy is absolutely throbbing as satoru positions himself next to you on the bed.

♡ you, who doesn’t really understand what’s going on when satoru’s hand begins to trace small circles on the flesh of your thigh. you know you like the sensation, but you don’t understand why he’s doing it. it’s not like he’s helping you smoke anymore. it’s not like you could take anymore smoking. “feel good?” he asks, and you don’t know whether he’s referring to the circles he’s drawing on your skin or the euphoric feeling you’re getting from the weed you just smoked. either way, you nod your head, unable to really form sentences. you, who doesn’t know that satoru is a scumbag who reserves his heaviest hitting, highest quality weed for perfect girls like you. girls he wants to fuck into the mattress until you can’t feel anything but his cock deep inside of you.

♡ satoru, who constantly asked shoko for updates on you because he thought you were oh-so-cute. shoko's sweet roommate who never went out and partied, never tried drugs, barely ever drank, and, satoru theorized, hadn't been laid in a loooong time. your perfect curves, your pretty face, and shiny hair - how could he not want to corrupt the very core of your being? you don't protest as satoru rubs circles into your thigh, so then, he insists on squeezing at them, kneading the fat between his fingers, feeling his cock go from half-hard to rock solid. you're so pliant, so malleable, both physically and mentally. it didn't take much at all for him to convince you to smoke with him. for a proclaimed study-addict shut-in, you sure were eager to indulge in drugs when a pretty guy asked you to. satoru wondered what else you'd be willing to go along with.

♡ you, who doesn't protest even when satoru's hands travel from your thighs to the buttons of your jeans. his hands feel so good on you. you're trying to place the landmarks in his room, an ugly poster of... something, a carpet on the floor, but all of it looks so hazy to you. the only thing you know for sure is that satoru gojo is beside you and that his hands are on you. then, the bed shifts again, and satoru is on top of you. despite being muscular, he feels lightweight. maybe it's because you're so fucked up. satoru likes the view he gets from above you - the way your mouth is slightly parted, the way your eyes are slowly traveling the room, and look as though you aren't really sure what's going on. satoru finishes unbuttoning your jeans before leaning down close to your ear, "you want more, pretty girl? wanna feel even better?" it's only then you've noticed that he's unbuttoned your jeans, leaving you with an anxious seed that has blossomed in the pit of your gut. he doesn't intend to... does he?

♡ you, who tries weakly to push satoru away, only for a moment, until you realize that you're far too fucked up to do so. satoru, who actually climbs off of you, giving you the space you're signaling that you want. little do you realize that, without him, this high is going to start feeling very uncomfortable if you can't find release. "if you don' wanna, i won't make you. rape's totally not my style." he says nonchalantly, making his way back to his side of the bed. "maybe it's time for you to head home, ya know, since you're all fucked up." and for some reason, that anxiety you'd felt earlier begins to feel overwhelming. you don't want to be sent back home. no, not by the satoru gojo. you can't be the one to disappoint him. for a moment, you think about the girls on campus, the ones who've cried because their hearts and expectations were shattered by the man in front of you. but you... you have a chance. he calls you "pretty girl", says he "needs a girl like you". you have a chance to be different from the other girls on campus - you have a chance to show satoru that you can be worth his time.

♡ you, who, with all your strength, grips satoru's hand, pulls him back towards you. "n-no... i-i wanna do it." you're voice is a whisper, hardly heard even by your own ears. satoru smirks and leans closer. "what was that pretty girl?" he asks. you bite your lip, embarrassed at having to repeat yourself to him. "i-i'll do it. wanna do it." you can feel satoru debating on whether your plea is enough for him. "please." and then it's enough. satoru is looming over you in an instant, hands on the waistband of your jeans, pulling them carefully down your legs. even the friction of the fabric against your legs as it slides down is enough to make you rub your thighs together. satoru throws your jeans across the bedroom before sliding his hands up your legs, caressing your thighs, pawing at the plush of your love handles and stomach. any other time, a man paying such close attention to your body might've made you feel self-conscious, but with satoru it was different. you could see in his eyes just how much he was enjoying this- enjoying you. "you done this before, pretty?" he asks you, fingering the hem of your tube top. you nod shyly. "...only twice. with one person." and satoru thinks he could cum just from hearing that. almost as priceless as a virgin. and from what shoko had told him, he figured that it was your freshman year of college since the last time you'd done anything besides play with that vibrator shoko says you keep on your nightstand constantly.

♡ satoru, who lifts the tube top from you, carefully removing it from your body, as he tries to get your limbs to comply with his movements. "no bra? naughty girl." he whispers to you. you're laid bare for him, nothing but your panties covering you. "you ready?" you give him a small nod, trying to cover your tits from his vision, but he quickly pulls your arms away. "don't hide from me." his voice is demanding, the most sinister he's sounded since the moment you met him. satoru wastes no time in leaning down, pressing gentle kisses to your neck. ah, at least he's gentle. but his gentle nature doesn't last long. the kisses he places on your neck quickly turn into harsh bites, and you can't conceal the whines that spill from your mouth. your knees try to come together to push him off of you, but you're quickly subdued as satoru parts them with ease. "c'mon, don't push me away, sweetheart." satoru licks, sucks, and bites at your neck as his weight becomes heavier on top of you. one of his hands finds your tit, his thumb roaming over your peaked nipple, playing with it, tweaking it, until his mouth becomes bored of you neck and moves to your free breast. it feel so good. his mouth is warm on your nipple, his teeth harsh when he bites down. not so hard that's it's tortuous, but harsh enough for you to lose your breath momentarily. his bites soothe you by turning into a gentle suck, his tongue playing with the nipple in his mouth. he swirls his tongue around, and god, you wonder what'd it feel like if he was doing it to your clit.

♡ you, who doesn't have to wait long for satoru to move down south. his lips brush against your stomach, his hands lightly tracing your ribs as he finds his way to your cunt, already soaked through your underwear. satoru presses a thumb to your clothed clit, "wow, what a body you have." he sounds amazed. "even virgins don't get this wet." you can barely process what he's saying - you're euphoric as he plays with your throbbing clit through your panties. every time your legs come up to suffocate him as a response to the gentle touches, he pushes them away. one of his hands holds down your knee as he paws at your clit, teases your clothed hole with a finger. and then he places his mouth on your clit. the feeling is like nothing you've ever felt before. a sea of euphoria washes over you as satoru's mouth latches onto your clit, his tongue flicking and licking at it before gently sucking on it. your body is writhing underneath his touch, your hips undulating as one of your hands reaches for his hair. you don't even realize that you're using your grip on his hair to press his mouth into your clit, begging for something harsher. satoru smiles against your clit before pushing your panties to the side. "baby wants more?" and you gasp as his mouth is directly on your clit. "ah! y-yes! oh my god, yes!" your other hand finds his hair, a vice grip on him, directing his head exactly where you want him to go. it's not like satoru wouldn't have done so on his own, but his cock is throbbing at the way you're attempting to take control of him. someone challenging the satoru gojo? he's up for it.

♡ you, who has no control over the coil deep in your core snapping as satoru eats you out like a professional. at some point, he completely discarded your panties. satoru sits on his knees between your thighs, his mouth on your clit and two fingers knuckle-deep inside of you, twisting and turning, scissoring your insides and brushing against your g-spot until you're brought to yet another orgasm. your entire body is shaking with pleasure, the orgasm so much more intense than the ones you have when you sober - the ones you bring upon yourself. satoru is completely entranced by your cunt. it's so perfect, he could spend hours between your legs. practically untouched, you're dripping wet, your clit just perfect, and you're so turned on it's no longer hidden by your cute little hood. all of you is perfect, and satoru loves the fucked-out expressions your typically innocent face is making. he loves hearing you moan and gasp, whine and cry out, begging, "please don't stop! i'm so close!" you obviously don't know what it's like to be fucked right. after bringing you to your second orgasm, satoru doesn't think he can hold it in any longer. his cock is leaking, aching and begging for some sort of release.

♡ satoru, who finds himself unbuttoning his jeans and throwing his shirt off. oh, how you wish you were sober enough to make out his sculpted body. he stands up for only a moment to take his jeans and briefs off, throwing them across the room, as well. he hops back on the bed, lifting your leg and kissing the inside of your thigh, biting and sucking at it as he adjusts himself between your legs. "ready for more, pretty girl? final show." you nod slowly, the room around you spinning. "aw, you don't sound too excited. maybe s' too much for you?" your heart drops, the anxiety returning. "n-no! i wan' it." your response only elicits a sigh from satoru. not good enough. "p-please satoru! please fuck me! wan' you to fuck me and no one else. wanna be one of your girls..." that's it. the look in satoru's eyes is absolutely feral. "oh, you wanna be one of my girls? want me to fuck you like one of my girls?" you nod as furiously as you can. "think you can handle it, pretty girl?" yes. yes, you can handle it.

♡ satoru, who you think will enter you gently, will fuck you softly. instead, he lines his cockhead up with your entrance gently pushing in the tip before violently bottoming out inside of you. all the breath is gone from your lungs in a matter of seconds. satoru gives you no time to recover, his hands finding your hips, fucking into you at a mach three speed. the sound of skin slapping and your uncontrollable screams fill the bedroom. your head knocks against satoru's headboard as he continues to abuse your cervix. you can't catch your breath. one of his hands travels down to your cunt, thumb rubbing at your clit and you're completely overwhelmed with the sensations coming over you, not in waves, but in a tsunami, crashing down on you with full force. your clit is throbbing as satoru pounds into you over and over and over and - and you can't stop thinking about the absolute euphoria you're feeling. you don't know if it's from the weed or the alcohol, but there's no pain in the way satoru fucks into you, only pleasure so intense, it brings tears to your eyes. your hand reaches up, placing your palm flat against the headboard to give your head a bit of relief from the constant smacking of it against the wood.

♡ satoru, who never lets you rest. the moment he pulls his cock out of you, he flips you onto your stomach as if you were light as a feather. he manipulates and contorts your body, lifting up hips up into the air and spreading your thighs, taking a moment to admire the sight of your pretty cunt spread wide open just for him. he can't help but dip his tongue in a few times, causing you to cry out, muffled against the pillows. "sorry, pretty girl. you're just too irresistible. and you're doing so good for me. thought i'd give you a little reward." you moan out as satoru continues to lap at your cunt, your legs threatening to give way as he brings you dangerously close to another orgasm. but just when you think that coil is about to snap once again, he stops. his tongue is instantly replaced by his cock, continuing his assault on your cervix. this time, it's so much deeper, so deep you swear you can feel him in your guts. his arm wraps around your midsection, helping hold you upright as he fucks into you with not a care in the world. his balls, heavy and full of cum, slap against your cunt, but it's not enough for satoru. his free hand finds your clit, rubbing it sideways, rubbing circles on it. it's too much. satoru presses his pelvis into you, pushing your face even further into the mattress. "so, so good for me, pretty girl." satoru says from behind you. he leans down, his body caging yours in as bites at you neck, surely leaving marks. his lips are right next to you ear. "really are one of my girls. if you take cock this good, might jus' make you my only girl." his words leave you trembling. he's not just amazing at sex, he's amazing at telling girls what they want to hear. satoru likes to think it's always been one of his selling points, always able to tell girls what they want to hear so that he can get what he wants from them.

♡ satoru, who fucks you so good you lose your mind. you're babbling and moaning, whining and crying as satoru fucks into you from behind. the arm that held up your midsection is gone, now restraining one of your arms, holding it behind your back as he relentlessly bullies your insides. the tears flowing from your eyes are soaked up by the mattress, and satoru keeps whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he brings you to orgasm over and over again. "this cunt is so perfect, sweet girl. really - hah - really can't believe you kept this from me. fits me just right." he's so deep his pelvis slams into your ass over and over, the noise filling the room along with his grunts and your muffled screams. at this point, you are screaming. the overwhelming feeling of being overstimulated and the constant slamming of his cock into you, it's all too much. the way satoru sometimes lets his free hand grab at the fat of your ass, slapping it, then caressing it to cool the burning left behind.

♡ satoru, who leans down, telling you, "m' so close, baby. where d'ya want it?" satoru, who asks, but has full intention on cumming inside of you. a cunt this perfect? he can't imagine doing anything but attempting to fill you with his babies. he imagines you'd be so cute knocked up. "i-i," you can barely get your words out. "in-inside, satoru, please. please, cum inside me. w-wan' you to f-fill me up, please." satoru, who decides that he must have you. even if it means keeping you high 24/7, he's willing to do it. he's willing to do anything to keep a slut this perfect. one whose a slut only for him. "oh yeah, i can do that, pretty girl. wanna have my babies?" you nod furiously into the pillow. "please! yes, please!" and that's all it takes to bring satoru over the edge. he cums hard, his balls tightening as he spills everything he has into you. he's not sure he's ever blown a load this big. but how could anyone blame him? he's found the perfect cunt for his cock - cinderella's slipper if you will. he leans against your back for a bit of support as his own body begins to shake, your cunt cumming in response to being filled up, spasming and squirting all over him. satoru watches, bleary-eyed, as his cum mixes with your juices and flows out of you like honey. your legs shake, your entire body shakes, as you babble on, thanking him for the orgasm, begging for more. you're so cute. satoru just can't get enough of you.

♡ you, who is just coming down from your high when satoru brings you a towel and tap water from his bathroom. you, who can barely keep your eyes open from the way your body has been abused through the night. you don't know how long it lasted, but you can hear that the music has died down downstairs. satoru wipes you off with the towel, forcing you to drink a little water, as he knows you're going to be so fucked in the morning. you can barely talk, so satoru tells you to sleep instead. it doesn't take you more than a couple of minutes to fall asleep.

♡ satoru, who after you fall asleep, takes a shower and texts geto. he leaves you alone in his room, bundled up in blankets before making his way to geto's room. satoru sits on the floor, sighing and shaking his still-wet hair. "that's some good shit, suguru. keep that in the rotation." geto smiles at his best friend. "told you it was great. what was better, though? the weed or the girl?" satoru laughs and shakes his head. "not sure, think i'm gonna keep both around for now." geto sports a pout. "at least include me next time."

[lilacnothlit]

Rachel is probably the person on the team least bound by anyone else's rules - and doesn't have to be, Jake trusts her to the point of entrusting her to snap his neck if something goes wrong (26) - and the part about Ax she can least conceive of is his adherence to the rituals and taboos of a species fifty million miles away. If she were alone on Andal with a team of Andalites, she would let nothing either human or divine interfere with doing solely what she wants and her friends need or ask. He's as foreign to her as Hamlet to a Klingon. (Though I keep thinking of book seven where she narrates "I do NOT find Ax sexy, Marco, just shut up.")

To a society of elf-rules prey animals, the girl who turns into a predator with no hesitation or rules to hinder her, I don't need to tell you why that's scary.

The only other scene I can think of is MM3, where she has to explain genocide to Ax. His reaction is colored by whom he's talking to. Cassie explaining the shoah, he wouldn't be able to guess if it was good or bad, since Cassie would find it reprehensibly violent. It's Rachel's deadly serious tone that cues him "wait, that was awful." He's struck not just by the idea, but by her reaction. And I truly think putting the pieces together, this is the only time we ever see him imagine Rachel as vulnerable - after starting the book with him given memories of a dystopia where Rachel really was put in a camp - seeing "shit, the dystopian opening already happened. We already had slaves and genocide and even Rachel couldn't have fought her way out of it. Humans are horrifying."

She represents everything that he's scared of, and every time he gets reminded of this, they stand farther and farther apart.

Animorphs #8: The Alien thoughts (pt. 4):

It's perfect that Ax is the first person to encounter a semi-sympathic yeerk, of any Animorph. Eslin 359 is so... humanized, for lack of a better word. He's motivated out of love, and revenge. He's right that he and Ax have something in common: Visser Three killed someone they love, and now they're willing to risk everything killing him. Ax has just been slapped in the face with the reality of the andalites' imperialism. And now along comes this yeerk who — unlike Ithileran, unlike Lirem, unlike even Noorlin, very like Elfangor — is willing to break the rules in order to do the right thing. Maybe the war isn't as simple as he's been led to think.

Also, I love all the andalite lip service to "freedom" in combination with their obsession with rule-following. Ax has to pledge allegiance perform a ritual to "freedom" every morning and will be reprimanded if he rushes it. Lirem cites the importance of "defending freedom" to explain why they let the hork-bajir get enslaved. The War Council says "our freedom" is the reason they can never communicate freely with other species. Applegate couldn't possibly be satirizing a different hyper-militarized imperialistic society, now could she?

"'I can almost understand the part about not giving us... megaweapons or whatever' Prince Jake said. 'But why all the other secrets?'... 'It's about keeping control of us,' Marco said. 'It's about power,' Rachel agreed. ...'No,' Cassie said... 'It's about guilt. Shame.'" —p. 128 A+ character-establishing, 10/10, no notes.

Actual Rules Lawyer Tobias Fangor! He promised Ax he wouldn't tell anyone about their mission... so he doesn't. He just shows up in Cassie's barn with a bloody piece of shirt, and tells them that only Ax can answer their questions about why. He promised Ax to follow andalite law on promises... so he does. He just hints that Jake should probably order him to tell the truth until Jake does, and then whoopsie, he's been ordered by his prince to spill the beans so he has no choice. Sir, I love him.

Animorphs books can be read here | Book Club schedule is here

[sturnsblogs]

HATE THAT I DONT HATE IT

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

Word Count- 762.

Warning- none.

Being Matt Sturniolo’s emotional babysitter is exactly as miserable as you expected. Maybe even worse.

It’s only been a few days since the principal “randomly” rearranged your schedule and partnered you with the school’s biggest social mystery—a walking caution sign in the shape of a boy. You used to only hear about him through whispers and occasional detentions. Now you breathe the same air as him in nearly every class.

And every moment is exhausting.

He barely talks. When he does, it’s either sharp or cryptic. And somehow he’s always watching. Not in the flirty, dreamy way your friends sigh about—but like he’s mentally writing your obituary in his head.

You try. God, you try.

You force conversation during classwork. You try to keep it surface-level. You offer him pens. You slide him notes with ideas. Sometimes he stares at them like they’re written in another language. Other times he gives the barest nod, scribbles something down, and goes right back to ignoring you.

It’s like talking to a locked door.

You’re not used to this. You’re used to people liking you. Laughing at your jokes. Wanting to sit next to you, talk to you, be seen with you. You’ve always known how to work a room—how to be what people want.

But none of that works on Matt.

And somehow that makes it worse.

—

Lunch is supposed to be a break. A breath. A return to normal.

You sit at your usual table, surrounded by noise and perfume and glitter and open phone cameras. Someone’s holding up a selfie stick. Someone’s already gossiping about a fight that happened in third period.

You push your tray around with your fork, barely listening.

Until you hear his name.

“Ugh, did you guys see Matt Sturniolo today? He looks like he sleeps in a haunted basement.”

Laughter erupts.

You look up.

“I swear, he smelled like metal,” another girl says. “Like… pennies and vape smoke.”

“His eyes are so scary. Dead fish eyes. Like if a cat and a serial killer had a baby.”

More laughter.

You force a smile.

It’s not hard. You’re good at pretending.

“I mean, he literally never speaks. Like, hello? Social cues?” you add.

It gets a few laughs. Someone taps their water bottle against yours like a toast.

But inside, it feels different.

Wrong.

Because you’ve met his eyes. You’ve sat next to him long enough to know that silence doesn’t always mean nothing’s there. Sometimes silence is louder than people realize.

Still, you say nothing else. You don’t defend him. You don’t even really know why you feel weird about it.

Maybe it’s because you hate him, but you hate that everyone else hates him too—without having to try.

You hate that you’re stuck with him while everyone else gets to treat him like a punchline.

You hate that you agree with them, but you also… don’t.

—

Later, you catch yourself thinking about the way he looked today when he walked into class—hood up, eyes half-dead, like someone dared him to care about being alive. He didn’t even glance your way. Just sat down and started sketching something in the margins of his notebook. You couldn’t tell what it was. Something sharp and abstract. It didn’t look like nothing.

It looked like something.

—

You don’t talk about it at lunch. Not to your friends. Not to anyone.

Because what would you even say?

“Yeah, I hate him, but not like that.”

“Yeah, he sucks, but maybe not on purpose.”

You don’t even know if that’s true.

All you know is this: being forced into Matt’s world is making yours feel smaller. Quieter. Heavier.

And for the first time in a long time, you’re not sure who you’re performing for anymore.

Because every time you smile now, you feel like he’s watching you from the back of your brain—like he’s silently calling you out without even opening his mouth.

And somehow, that’s worse than anything your friends could say.

A/N- ☺️.

[zynxsone]

Trollhunters: Rise of the Titans. A review and why it's an abomination to the series.

I don’t know why I just decided to write a review now but I still am doing it. Original review is a tad bit long so I shortened it.

First of all, I would gladly say that Trollhunters, 3Below, and Wizards have been an amazing part of my childhood. I started watching the show in 2016 and I absolutely loved it. It excited me that 3Below had come after, along with Wizards in the making. When I heard that there will be a movie to complete the series, I was excited! — only to be disappointed in the outcome. 

While I loved certain parts of the movie, everything else was badly written and executed.

Now, let’s talk about Aja. She was so out of character in the movie, as if she was a totally different person; she would never leave anyone in danger even if she did not know them, especially Claire who is a friend. Aja may be Queen now, but she is no coward and definitely no jerk. 

“Jim, it’s too late, the bridge is about to fall!” Hello? Didn’t she basically try to use her own life core after finding out that Morando had just destroyed half of Arcadia and that it was too late? She would not choose running away as an option, never. She is a warrior.

Eli's appearance was not needed, but I still love him regardless. Though, he did not play a huge part but was used as an emotional anchor for Steve, basically. 

The inclusion of the Mpreg subplot felt completely unnecessary. It’s unclear whether it was meant for comedic appeal or simply to put reason to Krel’s dislike to romance? but either way, it added nothing meaningful to the story. It wasn’t even a central detail, and its impact was negligible. Additionally, Aja and Steve's complete lack of concern for their newly born children—who essentially is about to vanish when Jim chose to go back in time—was baffling and emotionally hollow. Their reaction (or lack thereof) undermined any emotional weight the scene could have had. His pregnancy had literally more attention than the building up of the characters and the plot.]

Steve had potential to be used in the movie, a more heroic part. But the writers decided to shove him off and be a forced inclusion and it was disturbing to see. But at least it made a number of people laugh. We could have had a scene where the concept of Creepslayerz is back, but NO!!! We get teenage Male pregnancy instead, a detailed one.

 I found this movie deeply disappointing, especially since it wasn’t directed by Guillermo del Toro, the one who started it all.

So many of the deaths felt unnecessary—especially Nomura’s. Killing off such an important figure in Jim’s life without any real weight or closure was incredibly frustrating. And Strickler’s death? That, too, lacked the emotional depth it deserved. If the writers were aiming for an impactful character death, it would have made more sense to choose Blinky—Jim’s mentor and father figure—whose loss would have carried a much deeper emotional resonance. Draal’s sacrifice worked because it was meaningful and justified within the story. In contrast, Nomura’s death felt careless and hollow. It was as if she were treated like a disposable side character, despite having a significant connection to Jim—especially during his time in the Darklands where they started to have a platonic connection. Her bond with him mattered, and the way her story ended just didn’t reflect that.

Back to Strickler’s part, he really died for nothing. His sacrifice had no use since Skrael’s titan was indestructible by just using some few pieces of bomb. They should have known that bombs will do nothing as the titans–they're made of magic. Him choosing to sacrifice himself was not a bad choice, he would do anything to protect Barbara and now Jim, but it was done unprofessionally.

The mention of Jim’s father after his sacrifice was so random while at that, it was absurd. 

SO many sacrifices, yet none even have the significance they deserve and the writer just shrug it off because hey time is important

Oh, and by the way,

And let’s not forget one of the biggest plot holes: they literally created a fusion of Akiridion tech and magic that could block out magic itself—and no one thought to use it against the Titans? Seriously? Only Toby remembered the artifact, but by that point, they were all on the verge of death. That kind of oversight just makes the characters look incompetent and undermines the stakes entirely. This is bad writing. Like yes, characters can forget their own creations. But this one? The one they made specifically for the Arcane order? The one that removes their magic?? Stop.

There are so MANY plot holes in just one movie, it’s hard to process.

Also, why is Jim suddenly using a serrator—a weapon he’s never used before to fight a demigod made of fire? They could have at least shown that he struggled to use something he has never wielded before. 

Seriously, WHO wrote Jim in this movie? Because I have a gift for you, and it’s ticking. Jim was completely useless in this film. He’s already accepted that he is the Trollhunter—”amulet or not.” So why are we revisiting this question? Yes, the amulet’s rebuild was a nice touch, but Jim constantly went back and forth about whether he’s still the Trollhunter, quoting "but without the amulet am I still the troll hunter?” just feels unnecessary and repetitive. It undermines the growth his character went through, turning him into someone who can’t seem to accept his role despite everything he’s been through. Yes, him being anxious and questioning is his character, but we have already gone through this before. His personality has been completely altered—Almost everyone included!

I liked the jailbreak scene. It made me laugh and smile to see Lucy and Ricky playing a part. [I’m so sorry but Eli absolutely had no point in showing up. He only came back as Steve’s midwife.]

Nari and Skrael’s fight lacked depth. There was barely any meaningful interaction between them beforehand to establish why their confrontation mattered beyond the surface-level conflict—Skrael’s desire to reshape the world versus Nari’s choice to protect her friends. That alone doesn’t justify the importance of their battle. The emotional stakes were weak because their relationship wasn’t explored. On top of that, so many character dynamics were either ignored or rewritten entirely, stripping away their importance to the story and one another.

But I will say that the movie did have great action scenes. But there was no teamwork when fighting Bellroc, everyone was set aside as a decoy.

Jim going back in time was my last straw. He knowingly risked everything—his loved ones, the balance of the world—just to make that speech and undo everything that had happened. He was fully aware that tampering with the past could lead to even greater danger, yet he still made that reckless choice. It undermines the growth he went through and paints him as someone willing to gamble with countless lives, including those he claimed to protect. That moment didn’t feel like a heroic sacrifice—it’s a careless, desperate rewrite.

Toby’s death was well earned, It was a heroic act.

Having Toby become the new Trollhunter is a rushed decision that obviously showed that they had no intention of continuing the franchise. Throughout the series, it was emphasized—both through dialogue and major plot points—that Jim was the Trollhunter and that it was his destiny. There was even an entire episode centered around the idea that if anyone else wielded the amulet, the world would fall into chaos.  Didn’t Merlin himself say that “My Amulet does not make mistakes.” and out of every creature he can choose, it was Jim. So why are we forcing Toby to wield daylight. This is very ridiculous.

The amulet chose Jim for a reason. By suddenly passing it on to Toby, the narrative undermines its own message—especially the core theme that “Destiny is a gift.” If it was never truly Jim’s destiny, then what was the point of all his struggles and sacrifices?

Nari was a good inclusion since she plays a big part in the movie and the entire series, but I feel like Douxie was the only well written character throughout the entire movie, but he still has flaws just like every other major character that appears in this movie. Though, he wasn’t really important in the movie. He was more of a sideline.

The two pages of a book being stuck by a sticky food was the dumbest decision to build up climax. Blinky is not that stupid to not notice that two pages are glued to each other, if so, the pages would be bulky. 

It would have made for a more decent ending if they had allowed Toby to die entirely. While it’s harsh to say, it would have added importance to the story and given Jim a much-needed emotional arc. Jim could have been forced to confront the harsh reality that he can’t save everyone, no matter how much he tries. Instead, he passes his so-called destiny to his friend, the one who he went back in time to, knowing all the huge responsibilities, hardships and death-experiencing moments he had that would now be Toby’s future. Why would he ever want this to his friend that just died a moment ago? This is so stupid, then he goes off chasing after Claire while completely aware of what Toby will go through. 

Toby wouldn’t even survive Bular in the canals. Because as it was stated, Jim only did thanks to his chef skills. Not to be offensive, Toby was in a bad shape at the beginning of the show [not that there’s anything wrong with that of course.] The writers are PRETENDING, gaslighting themselves that Toby will be exactly how Jim came to be the trollhunter. Toby has his own skills and fighting style, but he is not made to wield daylight. It completely invalidates his character and abilities as a person.

And one of the reasons how Jim was able to defeat Gunmar was because he had to SACRIFICE himself to transform into a half troll. Toby will most likely will get himself killed trying to defeat Gunmar and so will Jim, probably. Unless he has the ability to while being human. The world is screwed.

If Jim had to choose a moment to go back to, it would have made sense for him to pick the point just before the fight with Bellroc and Skrael on the train. With the knowledge he gained from experiencing the entire battle, he could have easily defeated them, avoiding the entire mess that followed. [He can actually choose a time to go back to, by the way.] This decision also seems selfish as his choice. 

Honestly, they could have defeated Bellroc without having to use the new amulet if they just remembered to use the trifurcate blaster [magic blocker].

The only good parts in this movie was the animation, cinematography, and the visuals. 

The only reason I’m giving this review two stars is because of Bellroc. Their portrayal in the movie was genuinely compelling, especially the scene where they try to manipulate Jim into abandoning the fight and fleeing to his friends—just to make it easier to seize the Heartstone. [Also a self-indulgent reason because they’ve become my favorite character.]

This was a terrible way to end the series—terribly written, atrocious even, and incredibly rushed. Even fanfictions written by 13-year-old fans have more cohesive plots than this. It’s disappointing to see a story with so much potential collapse like this. It reminded me of how I felt about How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World's ending—but at least that had meaning and had a reason WHY. Rise of the Titans doesn’t even offer that. [And ironically, both stories are canonically set in the same universe] which just makes the contrast more frustrating. It’s like Spider-Man no way home had a cheap copy of an ending. This movie was a mistake.

The ending is what makes you say: “why?”

I recommend stopping at Wizards and imagine your own ending on how they’ve come to save the world.

[beeari]

Talking about platonic Jalph!!

The human is, as many animals are, a social creature. Since the beginning of humanity we have worked in groups to ensure survival. Even to the most introverted people establishing connections with other people is primordial, and to a child that is in a stage when is developing a sense of identity on its own having it’s fundamental for the normative development of said child's psyche.

Both Ralph and Jack are at their age in a stage classified as early teenagehood. A stage where kids start to gain a sense of identity and start drifting from their families and prioritizing their relationships with their equals.

The first time they meet Ralph takes a very judgmental approach towards Jack, calling him ugly. This is interesting cause it’s common for individuals to attribute bad qualities to people we consider unattractive and not want to associate with them, however since the beginning Ralph seems interested in Jack, most likely because he sees how Jack has power over the choir and, in the context, he has similar power, it’s only natural that people with similar status to want to associate with one another and that’s how their relationship starts, as two kids that have power above the rest.

This dynamic however seems to change when they climb the mountain together they already start forming a friendship, as kids of the age are more likely to consider better friends those who they do most activities with, and it seems that what i’m guessing are the first few weeks it could be theorized the time they aren’t tending to their duties they spend a fair amount of it together. Using the example of the scene where before Jack hunts the first pig, when coming back to the tribe, goes to talk to Ralph, check how the shelter building is going. This scene follows the two having a conversation, and while it is normal for the two kids that have taken the role of leaders to discuss the problems they are having regarding issues that affect them all, Is curious how the very first thing Jack does is go talk to Ralph.

Ralph's admiration towards Jack is no secret if you’ve read the book, but is it reciprocated? Does Jack hold him to at least a similar standard? The most common reason why two kids get into a conflict is because of issues of power in a group, feeling like he has the right to more power was what mainly led Jack to drifting from Ralph's tribe.

But just desiring a higher status than Ralph is not motivation enough for wanting him dead, and you could argue that at this point Jack was probably reaching some level of disconnection from reality, and while that could be true, there’s something else that could be a determining factor on the pure hatred he develops towards Ralph.

“Favour piggy like you always do”

There are studies show that the feeling of being left out can lead to conduct of aggression, and feeling rejected by a close friend is something that for a twelve year old that doesn’t know about emotional regulation is devastating, “like you always do” implies that in Jacks eyes to Ralph Piggy is a bigger priority, that he is going to prefer Piggy, someone he deems as inferior, over him.

We don’t get enough time of these two alone to really determine how deep the platonic connection this they had, but for what we can see they at least seemed to garner an admiration towards each other, and it’s a shame they never get to actually talk their issues without one of them being almost hunted..

Golding has absolutely no idea about how a child's mind actually works, so this falls flat as he probably wrote the scenes of those two without considering the psychological implications. I’m no expert on the topic either and it's been a while since the last time I read the book but child social development is one topic that fascinates me and all my claims are backed with sources that I can provide if anyone wants me to.

I'm sorry if this is messy and probably doesn't make much sense but I we all agree someone needs to bring the topic to the table.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

if they were able to kill him, who would try delivering the final blow to nightmare? (in your opinion)

I suppose anyone who wanted to kill him or be rid of him and was willing to try. Either out of fear, desperation, hatred, justice, a sense of responsibility, etc.

Delta, with the influence of the bravery soul, definitely would try.

Color definitely would seriously consider it I feel, driven by bravery, justice, and just intense hatred and disgust for Nightmare. As well as a desire to stop him from hurting anyone else, especially Killer and his friends.

But we also see from the Something New comics that Color avoids fighting Killer when he’s in Stage 2 as much as possible whenever Nightmare is present, as he doesn’t want his emotions and negativity to strengthen Nightmare.

He gives me the vibes that, when it comes to handling Nightmare, he’d try to consider what Nightmare’s victims would want. Even though Color himself more than likely wants him dead and gone. In his eye, Nightmare deserves no mercy.

Dream, I’m 50/50, because he likely still struggles with viewing Corrupted as his brother—and Corrupted definitely is willing to pretend to be. There’s also the matter of the balance, which he understands better than the other characters.

He knows how the loss of negativity could potentially effect the multiverse, but also how the loss of his brother—for what likely feels like twice, maybe even three times depending on how their reunion went when Dream was freed from his stone—would effect him.

I do think Dust would likely be willing to try, even if he knows he won’t succeed. Perhaps as a desperate attempt to get away, he’d try to go for killing blows.

I doubt he’d get anywhere, though, unfortunately. I doubt that’s really a new experience with him, given his fights against the human, but unfortunately there is no Resetting this time and therefore no attempts to make Nightmare give up. Unless maybe he somehow convinced Killer to turn against Nightmare and support him?

I think that’d take a lot though. Potentially a chance that, if Killer were to ever agree to helping Dust with this, he may not actually have any actual hope in either of their escapes.

He may say it’s just a game, or something new, even if he may have a sliver of hope deep down. Either way, he’d probably expect to be punished for his betrayal regardless.

Killer may not even not be quite sure what to do if it were to succeed, may even trigger an intense dissociative (particularly derealization) or psychotic episode. And by psychotic, I mean hallucinations, delusions.

Potentially vivid flashbacks if something pushes a specific trauma trigger. Que the bouts of inappropriate uncontrollable laughter just like in the Something New comics.

Maybe viewing it all as some sort of game where he’s just unlocking new routes and paths is how he attempts to cope with it. Viewing his life as a Player would.

I don’t think Horror would try. I’m not an expert, but from what I’ve seen and heard, people seem to agree that he has the most..self preservation(?) out of the Murder Time Trio.

[angel-of-depravity]

Here you go after waiting on my ass to finish it. I mentioned the barebones inspiration in a different post and anyone who can remember and send me a message telling me what it was that inspired it gets a cookie

-

Your roommate is a demonolater. You don't mind it, you've never really cared about someone's religious practice as long as they didn't either shove it down your throat or it somehow ended up hurting you.

He's a decent guy. Hard job has him awake a lot of the time and you really think he should get some sleep, but still. He only seems to sleep when you aren't home, but you chalk it up to him being weird about it. Maybe he had something happen in his life and now he couldn't sleep if someone else was in the house.

One day, though, you get home from a very late running outing. Admittedly, you were gonna stay at a different friend's place but you changed your mind at the last minute.

When you open the door, you find he's asleep on the couch. No big deal, right? You do the kind thing and gently pull a blanket over him. He's kinda cute when he's asleep, but you leave him be otherwise and just quietly head to your room. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep.

Your dreams involve... odd things. A winged, dark figure towering over you. It's inspecting you, burning and bright violet eyes boring through your being with scrutiny. Sharp claws run down your sides, making you realize you're naked in the dream and causing you to shiver. Why does this all feel so real?

"Ahh, this is why he fawns over you," the creature said in a gravely, rumbling voice. "Pretty pretty eyes, soft flesh, good sturdy frame... I like you too."

What... the fuck.

You know your roommate mentioned at one point if you started having weird dreams to tell him, maybe he'd find a few wards to put up to keep whatever he's into from rubbing off on you. But you sure as shit weren't expecting said dreams to be of what could only be described as a demon eyeing you like a piece of meat.

When you wake up suddenly, you find you can't move. It wouldn't be the first time, you've experienced sleep paralysis before... but when you think the touch at your side, very slight on your hip, is just an echo of sensation from your dream? You quickly find you are very, very mistaken.

You feel the touch trail to your legs, two hands now on you as they spread your thighs apart and a weight settled between them. You manage to open your eyes despite everything in you screaming not to. You see...

Your roommate. With those same eyes that the demon in your dream had. And it suddenly occurs to you why your roommate had been so careful to always be awake while he knew you'd be home and asleep.

You kinda wish he'd been more clear on it, but it's quite a bit too late now.

His hands roam over you in your paralyzed state- carefully, and almost curious. And you couldn't deny the way your body decided to betray you on resisting the sensations it brought on.

"So, so pretty..." The voice that came out had been your roommates, but it was overplayed with that voice the demon had in your dream. "You... good, sturdy stock, he's cowardly for not taking you already."

You're suddenly regretting wearing only a crop top and a skirt and not changing before bed. Then again, that probably wouldn't have changed anything other than how long the demon would spend on your clothes.

He hikes up the fabric of your skirt and top, getting access to what were apparently the best parts of you.

His hands first go to your chest, squeezing and groping as though inspecting you. His hands are calloused from your roommate's job, only providing more stimulating input. Is your roommate even aware of this happening? Or is this an involuntarily threesome for two out of three participants involved?

The demon pinches one of your nipples, pulling a squeaky whine from you. This seems to please him, given the smirk and chuckle he expresses.

One hand stays at your breasts, the other trailing down your body to your shamefully went cunt. He brushes his fingers lightly against it at first, and you could almost mistake it for the way he groped your chest. But... it was almost more like he was figuring out how things worked. Maybe in a different situation, it would have been kinda cute.

His thumb rubs your clit a little, pulling louder sounds from you. It seemed if he was unacquainted with how your body would work, he was either a quick learner or he was drawing on memory from his host.

He eases his fingers in, and it isn't more than a few seconds before he finds that spot of sin to really press against inside of you. All you can do is whine, unable to move to rut your hips against his hand.

He toys with you for a few minutes, and somehow that's just enough time for him to get you to cum once already. You try and keep yourself quiet, thinking maybe if you didn't make more noise than you already had then maybe he'd just get bored and leave you alone. But he's not convinced, feeling the way you clamp down on the intruding digits.

He pulls his hands off of your body, and you think for a moment he's done with you...

Until he scoots forward, pulling his cock out and lightly rutting against you for a brief period. You admittedly had always been a little curious about your roommate's cock- but you didn't ever imagine you'd find out the length and girth of it like this.

He lets out a grunt as he slides into your overstimulated pussy. He hisses out a breath at feeling the wet warmth around him, hands gripping your hips as he starts to move.

His pace is far less careful than when he was just playing with you. He takes in the way your tits bounce with every thrust, leaning over you and burying his face into your neck. He takes in the smell of you and it seems to only encourage him. He huffs your scent as though it was the greatest thing he's ever come across, savoring it with every inhale.

"In heat," he grunts against you, reminding you that you were ovulating.

Shit. Shit shit shit- he didn't use a condom. And he didn't seem like the type to pull out, given his earlier comments on your body. Maybe that was his goal the entire time, and why he'd called your roommate a coward for not having bred you himself already.

You only manage to half slur the word "no" over and over, and that was only every few times you tried to say it. You try to move your body some, but unfortunately for you you still can't will yourself to. Usually sleep paralysis wore off by now, was it something he was doing to you that kept you immobile?

As you were pondering your options, you felt him quicken his hips to chase his own release. You felt his cock swelling right before he went from just fucking you to rutting against your cervix. The heat of him cumming inside you triggered a second, more painful orgasm, making your thighs shake where they rested on either side of him.

He let out a hum of satisfaction, pressing strangely affectionate kisses to your neck as he pulled out of you. You could feel his cum deep inside you, and you had a feeling none of it was coming out any time soon.

He adjusted to lay beside you, holding you close as though you were a pretty doll or pet to him.

"Pretty, so so pretty and soft..." He murmured these little remarks as one arm held you, the other rubbing over your lower belly possessively. "Pretty... soft... mine..."

... how the hell were you gonna explain this to your roommate in the morning?

[rook-laidir]

Got y’all banter at the banter store

Idk why y’all like these so much but hey, I like doing them. Enjoy!

~

Emmrich: I do envy you, Rook. The tales of the Lords of Fortune and their adventures reach even the Necropolis.

Rook: They’re good people. Sort of.

Emmrich: I’d love to hear more about your excursions. You must have seen the most fascinating crypts and burial sites. To see remnants of a world before cremation became so normalized. The dead must have some incredible stories.

Rook: I hate to burst your bubble, but it’s not gold and glory all the time. Sometimes the crypts are empty or another group already picked them clean or an asshole of a noble decides to double-cross you and leave you and your crew to die.

Emmrich: Ah. Even still, I’d love to hear about your journeys when you’ve the time.

~

Rook: Up for some Wicked Grace later?

Davrin: No, you cheat.

Rook: Fine, what about Fool’s Gold?

Davrin: No, you cheat.

Rook: Dominos?

Davrin: You already know what I’m gonna say.

Rook: You can’t cheat at dominos!

Davrin: You’ll find a way.

~

Bellara: When’s your name day?

Rook: Why do you need it?

Bellara: I’m trying to keep track of everyone’s name days so I can bake cakes and we can celebrate.

Rook: Aw!

~

Bellara: You still haven’t told me your name day.

Rook: Oh, right. It was a couple weeks ago.

Bellara: What?

Rook: What?

Bellara: Why didn’t you tell me?

Rook: Because I haven’t celebrated my name day in years. Also I kinda just forgot.

Bellara: Rook!

Rook: It’s fine, Bellara. Really. I don’t need a celebration.

Bellara: But I like celebrations! Especially if they’re for my friends!

~

Bellara: So how was the cake?

Rook: It was really nice, actually. Thanks, Bellara.

Bellara: Anytime! Well, anytime as long as it’s your name day. Or if we have another cake-related celebration.

Rook: I’m sure we’ll think of something.

~

Harding: Remember when we were in Antiva City-

Rook: And Varric accidentally set up a Crow contract against himself?

Harding: He kept saying it wasn’t an accident, it was to see who would take it, but I still don’t believe him.

Rook: At least the Crows called it off before we had to fight off assassins.

Harding: He really didn’t like having to fight off assassins whenever we had to do it.

Rook: Can’t say it’s my favorite either.

~

Taash: Isabela asked for you at The Hilt.

Rook: Am I in trouble again?

Taash: I dunno, probably. But she also misses you.

Rook: Really? Isabela said she misses me?

Taash: She said you need to stop embarrassing her when you leave your back exposed in the Hall. She taught you better than that.

Rook: Aw, she misses me!

~

Neve: So you’re in a crypt or a dungeon with the Lords, you find some ancient treasure, and then what? What do you do when the job’s done?

Rook: Depends. If it’s a big haul or if it’s something we need to get appraised, we bring it back to Isabela. For the rest, we each take a cut and the rest goes to the vault.

Neve: You have a vault that’s filled to the brim with treasure?

Rook: The entire thing is booby-trapped. The last people who tried had their feet stuck to the floor and then they were incinerated.

Neve: Huh. Good to know.

~

Neve: Have you ever seen the inside of the vault?

Rook: Nope. I like being alive. If the traps don’t kill me first, Isabela will.

Neve: Makes sense. You’re not the type to steal from family either. Especially when you’re not in it for the gold.

Rook: Of course, I’m in it for the gold.

Neve: It’s nice that you care about each other so much.

~

Rook: What makes you think I don’t care about the gold? I’m a treasure hunter, that’s kind of a big part of it.

Neve: You’re the first to buy everyone a round at The Hilt and you wait for everyone else to take their share before you go for yours. When anyone asks about a job, you light up when you talk about the traps and the puzzles and you spend barely any time talking about what you did with the treasure if and when you found it. You’re never disappointed when you come up empty or if there’s not enough to go around. You’re in it for the adventure and because the Lords of Fortune is your family.

Rook: Well, that’s…

Neve: You’re family to them too. It’s sweet.

~

Rook: I’m really sorry.

Lucanis: I forgot to label it and you wanted a snack. I’ve already forgiven you.

Rook: Spite hasn’t.

Spite: It was mine!

[loveanton]

until august says goodbye | lee anton pt. 1

⟶ summary: every summer job, every inside joke, zero personal space—since you were fourteen, it’s always been anton. even with college pulling you in different directions you stayed close… just less effortlessly so when he says, “one last summer job, just us,” you don’t hesitate. the only thing is, something’s different this time. he still packs your lunch, still gives you the better locker, still makes it feel like no one else exists when he talks to you but now you’re starting to look at your best friend differently. the worst part? he’s always looked at you like this.

˗ˏˋpairing: best friend!anton x f!reader, slight sungchan x reader ❀ genre:  summer love, slow burn, best friend to lovers ❀ word count: 13.52k ❀ staring: maya (22)- xg, anton (21)- riize, sohee (21)- riize, sungchan (22)- riize, harvey (22)- xg ⟶ warnings: mentions of edibles, getting high, drinking, arguments, swearing, makeout sessions, talk of toxic relationships, mentions of panic attacks and anxiety, mentions of blood, allusions to sex, let me know if i missed anything.

✎୭: in honor of my first full year as loveanton and the start of summer ! also, this was meant to be a one-shot of 28.9k words but due to tumblr rules i had to split it into two parts, part two will be up soon!

ʚїɞ taglist: @gacktsa @dreamiestay @yoursyuno @yctfreaky @stormy1408

Your dorm looks like it exploded.

The room’s a mess with half-packed boxes, a rogue sock on your bedpost and three different cups of half-drunk matcha on your desk. Your roommate’s sitting cross-legged on the floor folding your clothes like she doesn’t have finals in twelve hours.

“You always wait until the last second,” Maya says.

“I had finals,” you protest, throwing a tangled heap of chargers into a box labeled kitchen things even though it clearly isn’t.

She snorts. “You also took a two-hour nap in the middle of folding your laundry.”

You grin in response. Fair.

Maya’s been your roommate since freshman year—assigned totally at random and somehow it just worked. You weren’t expecting much but she showed up with a full-size speaker, a neon pink kettle and two coffee mugs.

She's funny, stylish and has been the kind of friend who knows when you need to be told to get it together and when you need someone to bring you overpriced sushi and sit with you in silence. Three years later you still share the same room, same favorite mugs, same playlists on loop. She's become a second home.

Your first home however has always been Anton, your childhood best friend.

You met him when you were nine in the middle of an English immersion summer camp neither of you really wanted to be at. He sat next to you during arts and crafts and told you your macaroni picture frame was ugly and then gave you the glue stick you were missing. Somehow, that was the beginning.

From that point on the two of you did everything together. Swim lessons, school projects, awkward middle school dances where both of you swore you’d rather die than slow dance with anyone else. Every summer in high school the two of you found a job be it ice cream stands, lifeguarding, even one cursed summer as camp counselors. It was a tradition, one that lasted longer than either of you expected.

Now, you’re both rising seniors in college and time’s harder to come by. If he’s not busy with swim practice then it’s late-night labs or RA responsibilities but even with the time limitations, some things haven’t changed.

You still show up to all of his swim meets sitting in the same spot cheering loud enough for him to hear underwater. Still make time to grab boba every Friday night as a trio and occasionally make time for off campus frat parties where he watches over you and Maya like a hawk.

“You still haven’t packed your toiletries,” Maya points out, tossing a pair of your sneakers into a box without bothering to make sure they’re even the same pair.

“I like to keep my skincare in reach,” you say, which is mostly true. You just don’t want to admit you haven’t figured out how to pack twelve steps of face wash and serums into one Ziploc bag.

“You’re not going off-grid,” she replies. “You’re going home.”

“Same thing.”

Maya gives you a look but doesn’t say anything before standing and stretches, glancing at the mess around the room. “This better be mostly done by tonight because I am not helping you do a 2 a.m panic pack.” She warns, heading toward her desk.

You snort, “babes, you and I both know that’s not true.”

Maya tries her best to hide her smile but can’t and rolls her eyes before opening her laptop. “Screw off,” she mutters, pulling up a stats lecture she’s already watched twice today. There’s a knock at the door before you can respond.

Maya looks up brows raised. “You expecting someone?” You shake your head and cross the room, tugging the door open without thinking.

Anton stands on the other side, holding a tray containing three drinks in one hand and a roll of industrial-sized trash bags in the other.

“Hi,” he says like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like he’s not supposed to be studying for his neurobiology final. Like showing up at your door with Dunkin’s and a stack of trash bags is a normal Tuesday thing.

You blink. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

“Figured you’d be knee-deep in panic packing, I brought reinforcements.” He says, surveying the room.

You say nothing and step aside to let him in. He moves past you and enters the room like he’s done a hundred times before and sets the drinks down on your desk.

“Mango pineapple lemonade refresher,” he says, sliding yours toward you. Then, to Maya, “Strawberry matcha, extra ice, no sweetener.”

Maya happily takes the drink and thanks him before turning back to her laptop. Anton gestures to the room. “Alright. Where do you want me?”

“You have an exam,” you remind him.

“Yeah and I’ll pass,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing then adds, “and you’ll forget your toothbrush if I don’t help so really I’m doing us both a favor.”

Maya snorts. “He’s not wrong.”

You sigh, reaching for your drink. “Fine. You can stay but only if you promise not to judge how I pack.”

Anton’s already taping a box shut. “No promises.”

You sip your drink as Anton settles on the floor beside your pile of clothes, legs stretched out casually peeling tape from the roll like he’s the one moving out. You glance at Maya who’s still half-focused on her laptop and say, “I’m gonna miss you.”

She doesn’t look up. “Okay, drama queen.”

“I’m serious, you’re ditching us. Going all the way to Japan while we rot in Jersey.” You pout.

That gets her attention. She sighs and finally looks at you just in time for you to toss your weighted dino Antoinette, a birthday gift from Anton right at her head.

She catches it with both hands and clutches it to her chest. “You’re right. I don’t love you. Only Antoinette.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “Shut up.”

“FaceTime exists, you’re gonna call me every day. We’ll groupwatch trashy TV and complain like always.”  She says, petting the dino like it’s a cat.

“Promise?”

She smirks. “Only if you don’t cry during move out.”

You flip her off and she grins, setting Antoinette on her lap before turning her attention back to her screen. “So what are you two doing this summer anyway? Internships? Summer classes? Something productive?”

You shrug. “I don’t have plans. Probably just sleep, eat and annoy Anton.”

Anton hums without looking up from the hoodie he’s folding. “Confirmed.”

You glance at him. “What about you Ton?”

He shrugs. “Nothing locked in but I saw the old country club near my house is hiring again.”

You sit up straighter. “Wait—the one from freshman year?”

Anton glances up at you, smiling. “Yep. Same one.”

Maya looks between the two of you. “You guys worked at a country club?”

You grin. “It was our first summer job. We were like…fourteen? Mostly did poolside snacks and towel returns.”

Anton nods. “And there was the golf cart incident.” Maya raises a brow.

“She stole one of the golf carts and crashed it,” he says, gesturing at you.

You gasp. “That is not how it happened.”

He grins. “It absolutely is and I took the blame.”

You shake your head, laughing. “First of all, he’s being dramatic. Second of all, he got off with a warning. He’s making it sound worse than it was.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of the people,” Anton says, sipping his drink.

You roll your eyes. “They let you off because of your dad.”

“More like because of my amazing personality,” he says proudly.

“Privilege,” you correct.

“Semantics.”

You shake your head, still laughing as you reach for another hoodie to fold. Maya’s grinning behind her laptop clearly entertained. Then Anton casually says, “We should apply again.”

You pause mid-fold. “To the country club?”

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. “One last job. For old times’ sake.”

You glance at him and raise your brows. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Anton nods. “Why not? It’s close to home, the pay wasn’t terrible and we already know half the staff’s probably the same. No stress. Just summer.”

You eye him. “Why though? You could intern anywhere or do research or I don’t know…rest?”

He shrugs. “And you could do the same but we both know you’re not doing anything structured this summer.”

“That’s…not untrue,” you admit.

Maya shuts her laptop with a soft click. “Okay, hold on. You two are telling me you’re seriously considering spending your last free summer wearing ugly polos and dodging rich people at a country club pool?”

You and Anton both nod. She sighs. “Gosh, you’re perfect for each other.”

You throw a sock at her.

Anton leans back on his hands, sipping the last of his drink and not commenting on Maya’s words. “Come on. No essays, no cramming, just a few shifts a week and bad iced coffee, and maybe some golf cart redemption.”

You narrow your eyes. “Only if you’re driving this time.”

“I’m an excellent driver.”

“Says the man who didn’t get his license until last year.”

It’s Anton’s turn to throw a sock at you. “And yet it only took me one try unlike some people in this room.”

You gasp scandalized. “Low blow! It’s not my fault my first instructor had it out for me!”

Anton laughs and dodges the squishmallow you throw at his head. “And the second and third time?”

You roll your eyes,  “That’s rich coming from the guy who thought parallel parking meant ‘close enough.’”

Anton raises his hands, grinning. “Okay, okay. Truce.”

You toss the last hoodie into a box. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Anton shakes his head but says nothing. Maya pushes her laptop away and stands, stretching like she’s aged ten years. “Alright, I’m gonna shower before I lose the will to study.”

She grabs her caddy and heads toward the bathroom, pausing only to scoop Antoinette off her desk and cradle her under one arm.

“I’m stealing your daughter,” she says over her shoulder.

“Just don’t drop her,” you call back.

“You won’t get far,” Anton says, barely looking up. “Antoinette’s got separation anxiety like her mom.” He jokes.

You slap his arm as Maya snorts. The door clicks shut behind her and the room settles into something quieter. Anton’s still sitting on the floor, legs stretched out fiddling with the edge of a new piece of tape.

He leans back on his hands. “You know I was serious, right?”

You glance over. “About what?”

“The country club.”

“Oh. Yeah. I figured.”

“I mean, it’s dumb but…” He shrugs. “It’d be fun. Like—one last summer. Just us. Before everything…changes.”

You don’t answer right away because it sounds fun, of course it does but under the surface something else tugs at you. It’s the realization that this might really be the last summer like this. He’s right…things are changing and they’re changing fast.

Fall means senior year, your last one. After that he’s off to med school probably in a different state. Maybe a different coast. You’re taking a gap year to travel, to finally breathe after years of nonstop coursework. You don’t have much time before “just showing up” turns into scheduled calls and missed birthdays.

You’ve known him for thirteen years. He’s been in every version of your life and suddenly that constant is starting to shift.

No more Friday night boba runs. No more post-practice phone calls. No more knowing someone will always be exactly where they’ve always been. It hits you and it stings. All you’ve ever known is him.

You don’t say any of that though. Instead, you nod. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

He looks over at you, surprised. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah I’m down.”

Anton smiles, soft and boyish like it’s just another one of your shared inside jokes. “I’ll send you the link.”

And that’s it.

You don’t need to say anything more. He doesn’t push. You both just sit there in the middle of the mess, pretending like next summer isn’t already pulling you in opposite directions.

May 30th 2025

Your name tag clicks as you fasten it to your new polo—navy blue, crisp and slightly too long in the sleeves. The country club rebranded since the last time you worked there. No more ketchup red polos or painfully thick khakis. Everything’s been toned down, modernized.

It’s been a week since spring semester ended. The dorms are cleared, Maya’s off in Japan and you’re back home in Jersey sleeping in your childhood bed but everything feels different. You feel different. Mostly because of what this summer means.

You want this summer to be good.

Scratch that, not just good but fun, worth remembering. You want to laugh until you’re on the verge of vomiting, take off guard point fives and have stories to tell when you’re older. If this is your last summer being attached at the hip with your best friend, then it better be one for the books.

You head down the stairs and make a quick detour into the kitchen. The fridge hums quietly as you open it, grabbing the water bottle you left chilling overnight. It’s already fogging from the heat. You stuff it into your tote before slipping into your beat up New Balances by the door. Your phone buzzes just as you’re smoothing out your shirt.

10:53 am | ton🦕: outside ☀️

In the living room, your parents are lounging on the couch, half-watching the morning news with matching mugs.

“I’m heading out!” you call.

“Tell Anton we say hi and that we love him!” your mom shouts over the TV.

Your dad raises his mug like a salute. “Drive safe.”

“Will do,” you say, already stepping outside.

Anton’s Jeep is parked out front, angled just slightly onto the curb like he’d pulled in too fast and couldn’t be bothered to fix it. The silver paint reflects the sky, windshield dotted with pollen. He’s standing next to the passenger door in his lifeguard uniform, his name tag slightly crooked.

The Jeep was a gift from his dad last year—a “congrats on passing your road test” paired with an “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” It’s nice. Too nice honestly but Anton doesn’t brag about it. He hardly talks about it at all.

He was bummed his dad couldn’t teach him how to drive. Not that he ever said it outright but you know. He wanted his dad to be there, to sit in the passenger seat, correct his turns and congratulate him when he nailed parallel parking but his dad’s still in Korea. Always has been and while Anton understands why it doesn’t make it suck any less.

You don’t bring it up though, neither of you do. Some things are just better left unspoken. When he sees you Anton straightens up and pulls open the door.

You raise a brow. “Still opening doors for me? Must be nice, having money and manners.”

He snorts. “Didn’t realize chivalry was a tax bracket thing.”

You grin. “Your mom really raised you right.”

“She tried,” he says, shutting the door behind you before jogging around to the driver’s side.

He slides in, adjusts the a/c and and pulls away from the curb.

“My parents say hi,” you say. “And that they love you.”

His mouth quirks. “Tell them I say it back. My mom says hi too.”

You settle in as the car coasts through your neighborhood. As he slows at the first stop sign, he gestures to the backseat. “Oh— I packed you lunch.”

You look at him shocked. “You did what?”

“In the lunchbag, kimchi fried rice with spam. My mom made the rice, I fried the spam.”

You give him a look. “You fried?”

“It might be a little crispy but the thought counts, no?” He admits.

You snort. “Remind me to text your mom later.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

He smirks. “You were thinking it.”

You don’t reply just reach into your tote and quietly pull out the water bottle you grabbed earlier. You offer it to him.

He blinks. “What’s this?”

“Cold water,” you say. “You always forget to drink when you’re on pool duty.”

He takes it from you slowly. “Thanks.”

You shrug. “It’s nothing.”

You say it’s nothing but the way his eyes linger on the bottle before setting it down makes you second guess…is it?

Is it nothing that you remembered even after all this time? That you chilled the bottle overnight just because you knew he’d forget? That he packed your favorite lunch like it was second nature or the fact that he knows your drink order without asking.

Is it nothing that your mom still calls him her other child or that your dad always asks how Anton’s doing before asking about you? That it’s been thirteen years and somehow, this still feels like home?

You tell yourself it’s nothing because if it isn’t nothing…what is it? Before you can think about that too hard, the next song clicks on through the speakers.

You freeze. “No way.”

Anton laughs. “You remember this one?”

“Growl?” you say.

He cranks it up slightly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. You both sit there for a second, just listening.

Back in high school, Anton was obsessed with this song. Learned the lyrics and the choreo. He forced you to learn with him to keep him accountable, you still remember late night dance practices in your garage. He ran those practices like you were in boot camp.

He told you one night after lifeguard training that he wanted to be a K-pop idol. That he was serious. Like—leave school, move to Seoul and audition serious.

It’s not that you didn’t believe in him. Anton’s stupidly talented, he can play multiple instruments, produce, sing, dance. If anyone could’ve made it, it was him but his parents shut it down. They said it wasn’t stable, that he had too much potential in science and medicine to “throw it away on a whim.”

He never brought it up again. He still makes music sometimes, beats in his room, covers for fun, a little keyboard loop here and there but it’s just a hobby now.

You glance at him. “You still remember the words?”

He nods slowly. “Not all of them. But yeah.” You start humming and he joins in.

The windows are down, the music’s too loud. You’re both singing off-key and half-laughing. The ride continues like this until Anton turns the music down as you pull into the long driveway of the country club.

The stone entrance is the same but everything else looks newer and cleaner. The landscaping is sharp, the hedges manicured like they’ve been cut with scissors and the old faded sign has been swapped for something sleeker, modernized with some fancy rebrand name neither of you care enough to remember.

He parks in the staff lot angled slightly on the curb like always and hops out to grab your bags before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt.

You follow him inside through the back entrance down a hallway lined with beige walls and emergency evacuation posters. The staff break room smells faintly like sunscreen and freezer burn same as it always did. At least the lockers have been upgraded, sleeker and less dented metal and sharp corners.

Anton eyes the row before stopping at the end. “Take this one,” he says, nudging open the cleanest locker.

You tilt your head. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Bigger shelf.”

You don’t argue. You just smile and tuck your stuff inside. You’re taking down your water bottle when he nudges your shoulder. “Let’s go. You know they hate when we’re late.”

You roll your eyes but follow him through the staff hallways back to the front desk, where three others are already waiting.

The first face you recognize almost immediately, he’s about three apples tall, warm-eyed and has a smirk that’s impossible to miss.

“Sohee? No way.” You blink, half-laughing.

He grins. “Look who finally came back.”

You rush over, giving him a quick hug. It’s been forever, two years at least. Sohee was your summer coworker-turned-honorary brother back when you were fourteen. He worked the snack shack while you manned the front desk and Anton kept an eye on the pool. He went to high school in the next town over but somehow you all clicked immediately. Sohee had a big basement, a decent playlist and a personality that made him easy to trust.

After graduation, he headed to California for college. Got tired of Jersey winters and wanted a change. You’ve only really kept in touch through Instagram and random texts, low maintenance, long-distance kind of friendship. The kind that picks back up like nothing changed.

“You working front desk again?” he asks, already guessing the answer.

You nod. “Duh.”

He glances at Anton. “Pool?”

Anton nods back, reaching out for a bro hug. “Wouldn’t be summer without it.”

The guy next to Sohee is new; tall, tan, slightly broader than Anton with soft brown hair and a jawline that looks carved.

“This is Sungchan,” Sohee offers. “New hire. Lifeguarding with your boy over there.” He’s leaning casually against the counter sipping a Gatorade like he’s already claimed his chill guy status.

“I’m Harvey,” the girl beside him says cheerfully. She’s shorter, hair pulled into buns with spikes and practically bouncing on her heels. “Poolside snacks. Is this your first summer too?”

You smile. “Not exactly. We worked here freshman year of high school.”

Anton nods. “Figured we’d come back for one last round.”

“Ohhh, that makes sense! I saw you guys come in together, he was carrying your bag and opened the door for you and everything. You guys are so cute. Are you dating?” Harvey asks brightly.

The question stuns the group into silence.

You falter. “Oh—no, we’re just—”

“Friends,” Anton cuts in, laughing a little too fast. “Definitely just friends.”

You nod quickly. “Yeah. No. We’re just friends.”

It’s not a new question. People have been asking you that since middle school. Usually, you deny it without thinking, sometimes with a laugh, sometimes with a dramatic gag for effect. Living with Maya has made it easier to ignore the comments; she’s always teasing, always shipping, always nudging with that “but what if?”

But for some reason this time it lands wrong. Like a splinter, like something you can’t quite shake off. Especially when you glance at Anton and he’s laughing like the idea of dating you is absurd. Not even worth considering.

That…stings a little more than you expect it to. The conversation moves on.

Sungchan asks where you go to school. You tell him. He says he’s at Rutgers, studying kinesiology. He asks if you’re pre-med. You say no. He asks if you’ve ever been to Atlantic City. You say a hundred times over. It takes you a second to realize he’s flirting.

Sohee notices too, he smirks subtly, eyes flicking toward Anton who says nothing. Just stands there jaw tight arms crossed like he’s suddenly bored of the conversation.

Harvey loops back into your chat easily, bubbly and warm, clearly excited to be working her first job. You like her already.

Sohee eventually claps his hands together. “Alright losers, we should probably actually, you know, do our jobs.”

Anton mutters something under his breath and turns to Sungchan. “Let’s go before they stick us on towel duty.”

The two of them walk off toward the pool deck and Harvey waves before darting back toward the breakroom for her apron. Which leaves just you and Sohee at the desk.

He folds his arms and looks at you for a second too long.

You side-eye him. “What?”

He shrugs, clearly biting back a smile. “Just surprised. Thought maybe something would’ve changed between you two by now.”

You make a face. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything.”

“You are.”

He leans forward, elbows on the desk. “I’m just saying, if I didn’t know you guys—”

“Well, you do,” you cut in. “And there is nothing going on with me and Anton.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment just hums like he’s filing it away for later.

You look down at the sign-in binder, suddenly very interested in the pages that haven’t been filled yet because maybe once it was easy to say there’s no you and Anton and not think twice but right now…you’re not so sure.

___

You and Sohee spend most of the morning shift alternating between joking around and pretending to be productive.

He makes fun of your growing squishmallow collection, shows you a dumb video of a goose chasing tourists and bets you ten bucks someone’s gonna try to sneak in through the tennis courts again before noon.

“You still have that one video?” he asks at one point, tapping on the desk with a pencil. “The one Anton filmed after your crash out over that burger king worker getting your order wrong.”

You laugh. “Oh my gosh! I completely forgot about that night!”

He grins. “We were so annoying.”

“We still are,” you say and he doesn’t deny it.

Right before noon a girl storms through the front entrance, sunglasses still on and sandals clacking like she owns the place. She doesn’t even say hello before launching in. “My friend’s pass isn’t working and it’s hot and I swear if I have to stand in the sun one more second—”

You stare at her blakly. “What’s the name the pass is under?”

She scoffs before answering, “Lexi.”

You check the binder. “There’s no Lexi on the guest list.”

“She’s with a member. My dad okayed it.”

“I get that but if the member didn’t authorize her, we can’t—”

She cuts you off. “Are you incompetent? I just said my dad is fine with it.”

You smile—tight and polite. “I’m just following policy. Again, if your father reaches out to the front desk we can get it sorted.”

She gives you one last huff and storms out her heels clicking. You lean back in your chair, eyes narrowing. “I hate it here.”

Sohee snorts. “You handled that like a pro.”

“She called me incompetent.”

“Yeah but you didn’t cry or threaten to quit. Growth.”

You snort and toss a pen at him. “You’re so stupid.”

He dodges. “So are you, take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to murder someone and I don’t want to be a witness.”

You groan but nod, grabbing your water bottle from under the desk. “Text me if another demon shows up.”

“Only if they’re hot.” You laugh and shake your head as you walk away.

Outside, the sun hits you instantly. The pool is packed, kids screaming, parents sweating and lifeguards trying to look like they’re not losing their minds. You spot Anton climbing down from the stand, towel over his shoulder, hair damp and sticking to his forehead. He meets your eye. “Break?”

“Sent out by Sohee before I committed a felony.”

Anton grins. “Be right back.”

He disappears into the staff building to grab the lunch he packed while you claim a shaded spot under a cabana kicking off your shoes and letting your socked-legs rest against the cool concrete. A breeze rolls in and you lean back, eyes half-closed.

“Hey,” someone says beside you.

You turn to find Sungchan, shirt slightly damp and water bottle in hand. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head. “Be my guest.”

He drops into the chair beside you, stretching like a cat. “I’m dying.”

“It’s a billion degrees out,” you agree.

“You always work front desk?”

“Yeah. It’s my thing, Anton’s tried getting me to do lifeguarding but he’s always been the better swimmer.”

“Cool,” he says and then offers you a fruit snack and asks if you’re from around here. You tell him you grew up just ten minutes down the road. He makes a joke about Jersey shore and you actually laugh. Anton rounds the corner carrying the lunchbox in one hand slushies in the other. His gaze flicks to where you’re sitting laughing at something Sungchan said and something shifts behind his eyes.

He doesn’t say hi. Doesn’t look at you. Just walks up and sets the lunchbox on the table between you without a word.

Sungchan blinks. “Hey man.”

Anton glances at him. “You’re still on break?”

“Uh…yeah?”

Anton doesn’t respond. Just raises a brow like really?

Sungchan stands slowly. “I should probably get back.”

He gives you a little wave. “See you later.” You wave back a bit thrown then turn to Anton.

“Seriously?”

He doesn’t meet your eye. “What?”

“That was rude.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t trying to be nice.”

You narrow your eyes at him, grabbing the lunchbox and flopping back into your seat.

“You okay?” you ask.

Anton shrugs again, collapsing into the chair beside you. “Just hot.”

You snort. “Yeah, hot and grumpy.”

He gives you a side glance then finally cracks a small smile. “Yeah, well. I brought slushies. That’s gotta count for something.”

You grab yours, mango, your favorite and take a long sip. “You’re lucky you remembered. I was about to write you off for being so rude.”

Anton reaches into the lunchbox and starts unpacking the contents. Two mismatched Tupperware containers, a few napkins, two forks. You watch as he places everything on the small table between you.

He pulls out the kimchi fried rice and hands you the portion with the less-burnt spam without needing to be asked.

“You’re so weirdly domestic,” you mutter, digging in.

“I don’t know what that means.”

You grin and the silence between you settles. The heat of the afternoon hums low around you but the breeze blows in every now and then and keeps things comfortable. From across the pool, a whistle blows and a kid does a cannonball that earns gasps from half the loungers.

You kick your leg slightly. “Remember that one time some kid got his arm stuck in the vending machine?”

Anton laughs with his mouth full. “Didn’t you encourage him?”

“I did not!”

“You absolutely did. He was trying to get the last bag of Doritos and you said, and I quote, ‘bet you can reach it if you just wiggle your arm a little more.’”

“That could’ve meant anything.”

“He almost dislocated his shoulder.”

“Okay but did he get the Doritos?”

Anton points at you with his fork. “You’re the reason we have warning signs now.”

You snort, shaking your head as you take another bite. You chew slowly, watching the pool sparkle under the sun.

In a softer voice you ask, “Why’d you bring up working here again? Really.” Anton doesn’t answer right away. Just sips his slushie, eyes fixed on something far off. When he finally speaks, his voice is casual.

“Figured we’d have fun,” he says. “Just us. Like before.”

You nod before really thinking about it but the words catch up to you. Just us.

You’ve said that to each other a hundred times over the years, maybe even more. When you were kids convincing your parents to let you go on class trips. When you got your first job together. When you swore off dating apps after two back-to-back disasters. It’s always been a comfort. Something easy. Something true but now, sitting here under a cabana with your lunch still warm between you and the summer breeze curling at your ankles, it feels different.

He says it so simply, like it’s not supposed to mean anything. Like it’s obvious but your chest tightens anyway, like maybe…maybe it does mean something or could mean something.

You glance over and search his face but he’s not looking at you. Just tearing little pieces of his napkin, focused on nothing at all.

You clear your throat. “Well…so far, so good.”

His lips quirk. “Even with Sungchan?”

You let out a groan and nudge his shoulder. “Oh my gosh. He was being nice.”

“He was flirting.” He argues.

“I don’t even know him.” You counter.

“He offered you his fruit snacks.”

You stare. “That is not flirting.”

“That’s first base,” he says deadpan.

You laugh despite yourself and shake your head. “He’s cool I guess but he’s still a stranger. I barely know the guy.” You take another sip of your slushie. “Besides, no one’s stealing your spot.”

He looks over at that, just for a second. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But even after you say it something lingers in the silence between you. Something neither of you names, not yet. You look back out at the pool, squinting against the sun and pretend not to notice the way Anton shifts beside you.

June 17th, 2025

It’s a slow afternoon at the club. Sohee’s meant to be manning the front desk with you but really he’s just spinning around in the office chair balancing a bottle of Gatorade on his head while you lazily fold brochures into lopsided thirds.

“You know,” he says, steadying the bottle with one finger, “if I wasn’t working here, I think I’d make a pretty decent spy.”

You snort, folding another brochure. “You can’t even sneak snacks past the manager without getting caught.”

“That was one time and the chips were loud.”

The side door creaks open letting in a sticky gust of summer air. Anton and Sungchan walk in from the pool deck, Sungchan’s mid-story talking animatedly with his hands and Anton looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“—and then the kid straight-up cannonballs next to me like I don’t exist. I got splashed in the mouth.” Sungchan says frowning.

Anton shrugs. “I don’t know man, you did yell at him.”

“That crotch gremlin deserved it!”

They drift behind the desk, Sungchan flops into the second chair and kicks his feet up, Anton leans against the counter beside you standing closer than necessary. You glance at the clock, only an hour left on pool duty before rotations, Harvey had the early shift and already left.

“You’re dripping everywhere.” Sohee says glaring at Sungchan who just shrugs and shakes out his hair making Sohee groan as he gets soaked.

Just then, your manager strolls in glancing toward the darkening sky beyond the windows. His clipboard is tucked under his arm and his brows furrow slightly.

“Storm’s coming in early, might have to shut the pool soon. Don’t need the whole crew if this keeps up, anyone wanna head out early?” He announces.

Before anyone can say anything, Sohee shoots to his feet. “Yes. Me. I will gladly shoulder this burden for my best buddy pals.”

Your manager snorts. “That was fast.”

“I’m a man of action,” Sohee says, already grabbing his bag. “Sungchan, you coming?”

“Yeah, I got family stuff anyway.” Sungchan says, standing with a stretch.

Anton arches a brow. “Didn’t you say that yesterday?”

“Different side of the family,” Sungchan replies smoothly, already halfway down the hall.

You stifle a laugh as the door swings shut behind them, leaving the front desk quiet. Outside, the first low rumble of thunder rolls somewhere in the distance.

Anton glances at you and tilts his head toward the towel cart. “And then there were two.”

You sigh dramatically pushing off the counter. “Guess we better make ourselves useful.”

Anton follows you to the towel cart bumping your shoulder with his as he grabs a stack. “At least it’s just for a few hours?”

“I guess.” You mutter, folding a towel sloppily.

Just then, your manager pokes his head out from the breakroom half-distracted by the radar on his phone.

“There’s not much left. Just make sure the locker rooms are clean, stack the chairs if it rains and lock up if I’m not back by closing. I’ve got a staff meeting at the main branch.” He says.

You and Anton both blink. “Wait, you're leaving?”

He shrugs. “Storm’s rolling in so no one’s sticking around today. You two will be fine.” With that he leaves, the door swinging behind him and umbrella already up.

Anton stares after him. “Did he just abandon us mid-shift?”

You nod. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what just happened.”

The sky grows heavier as you both finish up—tossing used towels in the bin, wiping down snack bar counters, dragging pool chairs toward the fence line as wind picks up. The club slowly empties around you. A couple teens from the tennis court wave goodbye, the remaining lifeguards shout something about “good luck,” and soon it’s just you and Anton, stacking the last of the loungers as the first drop of rain hits your arm.

You both scramble under the nearest overhang just as the clouds finally open up drenching the deck in seconds. You’re out of breath, a little damp and your shirt’s sticking to your back.

“Well, guess we’re stuck.” You breathe, watching the rain hammer the pavement from the safety of indoors.

Anton props his hands on his hips. “Could be worse.”

As if on cue the hallway lights flicker once, twice then cut out completely, leaving you in the dark.

You turn to him slowly. “Seriously?” Anton winces, hands already up in surrender. “Not my fault! How was I supposed to know!?”

You squint at him but he’s already backing toward the supply closet. “I’ll grab the flashlights.”

You huff and duck back behind the front desk. It’s weirdly peaceful here without the usual hum of air conditioning and squeals from the pool. Just the sound of rain and the occasional thunder rumble.

While he’s gone, you dig into the lower drawer under the desk and pull out Sohee’s “secret” stash of cards (the one he swears no one knows about but everyone definitely does). You grab the Uno deck and a half-empty bag of jolly ranchers, shaking the cards out and ‘shuffling’.

Anton returns with a flashlight already turned on, tucking the second into the tissue box holder for hands-free lighting.

“Please tell me you shuffled better than last time,” he says, eyeing the deck suspiciously.

You pause. “...Maybe.”

You’re both crouched behind the desk, legs tangled and cards fanned out while the flashlight glows between you. The storm outside is getting heavier and you mentally sigh knowing you can kiss your rewatch of TVD with Maya goodbye.

“Draw four.” Anton says, smug as he tosses the card down.

You gape at it, betrayed. “Dude! We just started.”

He leans back, stretching like he’s got all the time in the world. “Don’t care, pick ‘em up.”

“I’m never forgiving you.” You say as you pick up four cards.

He laughs, biting into a watermelon Jolly Rancher and tossing you a blue one without looking. You catch it and roll your eyes.

You glance at him, hair still damp from the sprint, sleeves pushed up, lips slightly pink from the candy and it hits you again, just like it did in his car on the day of your first shift, how much he means to you. How dangerous this feeling is becoming but you say nothing, just slap down a wild draw four and smirk. “Your move, loser. The color is green.”

___

Eventually, the round ends with Anton barely winning and the sugar buzz from the jolly ranchers wear off. With nothing else to do, the two of you flop back against the floor, heads tilted toward the ceiling.

“This is so boring,” you groan.

“It’s either this or alphabetizing the lost and found.”

You squint at the ceiling tiles like they hold answers. Anton shifts slightly and pulls out his phone checking the battery. “Eight percent. You want music before she dies on us?”

You nod and toss your own phone over. “Bluetooth’s still connected to the speaker in here. Just use mine.”

He queues up your liked songs on shuffle and taps play. The first song to play is Ordinary by Alex Warren. You sit up immediately. “Oh my gosh, I love this song.”

Anton raises an eyebrow, watching the way your face lights up. “I can tell.”

You hug your knees to your chest swaying a little with the beat. “I’ve been obsessed since it dropped. Wanted to see him in concert but the prices were ridiculous.”

He hums. “Wanna dance?”

You stare at him. “Right now?”

He shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Why not?”

Your eyes search his face. He’s not teasing just asking. After a moment you slowly nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

He stands first and offers a hand which you take as you get to your feet. The two of you step around the scattered cards, the dim flashlight casting shadows behind you. The storm outside softens to a steady patter and somewhere in the distance thunder hums low.

Anton places a careful hand on your waist and you loop yours around his neck. It’s a little awkward at first, a little silly but then it isn’t.

You sway and he hums along under his breath. You snuggle closer to his chest, finding comfort in the way his chest vibrates with each note.

Your heart starts doing that thing again, fluttering and aching and racing all at once. This feels like nothing but it also feels like everything.

Suddenly Anton says, “remember when you made me promise to marry you if we’re both single by thirty?”

You pull back slightly to look at him. “Wait—when did I say that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Sophomore year. After things ended with that junior—what was his name? Woobin?”

You gasp, “Oh my gosh! I lost so many aura points that year.” You say as a shiver runs down your spine.

You were with Wonbin for a little over six months though sometimes it felt like twice as long.

At first he was exciting, mysterious with a dry sense of humor and a way of making you feel like the center of his universe until you weren’t.

What started as something fun and flirty quickly slipped into something…heavier. You started bending more, giving more. Time, patience, pieces of yourself and he kept taking. He never asked you to shrink yourself, not out loud at least but somehow you found yourself doing it anyway. To keep the peace and to keep him.

He didn’t like that Anton was always around. Didn’t like that your phone lit up with his texts or that you studied together late. No matter how many times you explained that Anton had been there long before him, that it was never like that, he’d just give you a look and change the subject. He never raised his voice, never cussed you out but he was cold in all the places warmth should’ve lived.

And his friends. You shiver at the reminder of them. Girls who barely spoke to you, who made inside jokes you weren’t part of, who looked at you like you’d taken something that didn’t belong to you. You tried. You really did but trying only made it clearer you weren’t welcome.

The breaking point came in the common room. You’d found out that one of those girls used to date him. You didn’t come at him yelling, you just asked why he hadn’t told you. Why he’d let you sit next to her, smile at her, try so hard to be liked by someone who used to be where you were.

He didn’t even let you finish, called you a hypocrite and said he didn’t owe you explanations when you had Anton on speed dial. Then he walked out. Just like that.

You didn’t chase him. You just stood there in the middle of the lounge, hands trembling.

Maya came to you not even a minute later. She’d been eavesdropping from the hallway. She didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped an arm around you and walked you back to your room.

“I always hated him but you already knew that.” She said the second the door closed.

You slumped onto your desk chair while Maya cracked open a bottle of Tito’s. She was celebrating the end of your situationship, you were grieving. Sort of.

“He sucked but you’re still hot.” She had said plainly, handing you a shot. You drank to that.

Then you kept drinking. The two of you ended up blasting music, dancing around the dorm, mascara smudged and feet bare, shouting lyrics you only half knew. That’s when the knock came.

Anton was the RA on duty that night, he looked tired but concerned, already wincing when he saw the speaker blinking blue. “Girls—”

“We got a noise complaint?” Maya guessed.

Anton nodded. “Two, actually.”

You winced. “Are we in trouble?”

He glanced at the open bottle on your desk and sighed. “Technically? Yes. Realistically? No.”

He didn’t write you up. Just stepped inside, clicked off the speaker and lowered the lights. Then he grabbed two water bottles from under your bed, handed one to Maya and sat with you on the edge of your bed helping you drink while she wandered to the bathroom, mumbling something about needing makeup wipes.

He didn’t ask what happened. Didn’t need to. He already knew. Anton always knew.

He knew that Wonbin never held your hand in public unless people weren’t watching. That he rarely walked you back to your dorm after study sessions. That he “forgot” your birthday until Maya posted a story about it.

He was the one who bought you a cupcake when Wonbin didn’t show up to your dinner plans. The one who printed your essay for you the morning your laptop died because Wonbin hadn’t answered your texts. The one who sat outside your chem lecture for an hour once, just to walk you home after your midterm.

He didn’t like Wonbin. Never had but he never said anything because you kept insisting everything was fine and he didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose so he just stayed quiet.

Anton wrapped you up in your blanket that night and helped you sober up while you ranted about love and timing and how you had “plans that you couldn’t share because the haters would sabotage you.”

You remember him giving you a blank stare before asking if you were seriously quoting Dr. Umar. You’d just shrugged then made him pinky promise. First it was to marry you if you weren’t in a serious relationship by the end of senior year but Maya chimed in from the bathroom and said that was too soon so you adjusted it—thirty. If you were still single by thirty, he had to marry you. You passed out right after.

You blink at the memory laughing softly and a little horrified. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I actually said that.”

Anton chuckles, his fingers tightening a bit on your waist. “You were drunk.”

“You should’ve stopped me.”

“I don’t think I could’ve. You were very persuasive” He says grinning. 

You groan. “That’s so embarrassing.”

He tilts his head, thoughtful. “I don’t know. It was kind of sweet.”

You snort. “I was in the trenches.”

“I remember. I wanted to punch that guy sometimes.” He murmurs, voice quieter now. 

You glance up at him, not shocked. “You and Maya.”

“I would’ve done it, y’know,” he says after a beat.

You cock your head still half-smiling. “Punched him?”

Anton shakes his head. “No. Marry you…you know, if we were thirty and single.”

You blink, breath catching in your throat. He says it so easily. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s always been obvious.

Your mouth opens but no sound comes out at first. “You would?”

“Yeah. You’re not exactly hard to imagine a future with.” He says simply, like the thought doesn’t scare him at all.

For a second you don’t know what to say because it’s Anton, your best friend, saying he’d marry you and saying it like it’s nothing, like it’s already written somewhere in the future, just waiting for the two of you to catch up.

You think about waking up to him. About sharing a bathroom and arguing over toothbrush placements. About movie nights in old pajamas, mismatched socks and legs tangled under the blanket. About apartment keys and slow Sunday mornings and his name showing up on every contact form you’ll ever fill out again.

You think about bringing him lunch at work. About him rubbing your back while you fall asleep. About the two of you building a home from scratch, filling it with too many throw pillows and framed polaroids and mugs that don’t match.

You even think—just briefly—about kids.

Maybe a little girl with your smile and his eyes. A boy who makes the same scrunched-up face when he’s concentrating. Anton would be the softest kind of dad, you know it. The kind who learns how to braid hair and shows up to every dance recital or soccer match early just so he can save a front-row seat.

Your chest squeezes at the thought because the idea of forever with him doesn’t feel scary. It doesn’t feel rushed or wrong. It feels…easy and almost right.

Anton shifts slightly, eyes flicking down to meet yours like he feels it too. Like he might say something more but then the lights flicker back on with a quiet buzz. You both freeze then blink dazed like a spell’s been broken.

Anton clears his throat and takes a careful step back. “We should probably lock up.”

You nod quickly. “Y-yeah. Before the storm comes back.”

Neither of you says anything else. Not about the dance. Not about the promise. Not about what might have happened if the lights had stayed off just a minute longer.

July 3rd, 2025

It’s been almost a month since the storm, you and Anton never brought up that night again. You moved on like nothing happened and went right back to being best friends.

The days have since blurred into sun-drenched afternoons and late-night group chats with slushies and sunscreen. Summer is halfway through and you’ve done more than you thought you would.

Harvey’s become one of your favorite people. You’ve spent more time with her than anyone lately, just the two of you doing silly girly things like you’ve known each other forever. You’ve gotten your nails done twice; matching pastel chrome one week then tiny hearts the next.

You’ve had sleepovers where you ate too much candy, tried on outfits for no reason and stayed up until 1 a.m freetyling to old beats Anton had made. You’ve gone on aimless shopping trips, floated in her pool while talking about first crushes and dream jobs and made it a tradition to blast One Direction during every 7-Eleven run.

You’ve spent a lot of time with the guys too. Group hangouts at Sohee’s house are now routine. His basement has become the unofficial meeting spot, snacks everywhere, a projector hooked up for movies, blankets in every corner.

You rotate who gets to pick the movie (Sungchan keeps choosing weird action flicks and Sohee only ever wants to rewatch Rush Hour) and every hangout ends with someone yelling over who ate the last bag of gummies.

One night Sungchan brought over edibles from his college roommate Eunseok. You were hesitant at first but Anton nudged your shoulder and said, “why not” so you gave in. You all ended up sprawled out on the carpet of Sohee’s basement laughing at nothing and everything, whispering nonsense while trying not to wake his family upstairs.

At one point Harvey started crying because the ceiling “felt too big,” and Sungchan offered her a half-eaten Rice Krispie treat like it was a solution. Sohee kept trying to freestyle over the Wii music theme and Anton couldn’t stop giggling every time he looked at you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, just that you woke up with Anton’s hoodie draped over you and a bag of marshmallows stuck to your arm. How they got there, you still have no clue.

You’ve also spent time with Anton. There was a week where he decided completely out of nowhere that he wanted to bleach his hair. You helped, obviously. Sat with him in his bathroom while he panicked over the yellow stage, laughed when the toner stained his ears purple and eventually helped him dye it back to black two weeks later when he said he “missed feeling like himself.”

You went on a picnic too, just the two of you at the park where you used to ride bikes as kids. You brought drinks, a bag of chips and laid out an old blanket while he strummed his guitar. It felt a little like slipping back into a memory. Safe and familiar. Comfortable in a way you didn’t even realize you missed.

You’ve texted with Maya here and there. She’s having the time of her life being back home in Japan, eating well, reconnecting with family and promising to bring back enough souvenirs to redecorate the whole dorm. You miss her but you’re glad she’s having fun. If anyone deserved a break, it’s her.

So far, you’d say this summer’s shaping up to be one for the books like you hoped.

Currently, you and Harvey have just pulled into the staff lot five minutes after your shifts have started, windows down, music still playing from your drive in. She’s wearing her “Snack Shack Queen” visor ironically and sipping from a pink water bottle covered in glittery stickers. You’re both still laughing about something Sungchan texted in the group chat.

Harvey parks her beat-up Corolla with a glitter Hello Kitty air freshener dangling from the mirror next to Anton’s Jeep. He usually drives you both but since you crashed at Harvey’s last night, you figured it made more sense to go together, his shift started before yours anyway.

“Tell Loverboy I say hey,” Harvey says, grabbing her apron from the backseat and shooting you a wink.

“He’s not—” you start but she’s already skipping toward the snack bar, waving over her shoulder.

You shake your head, smiling and sling your tote over your shoulder before heading inside. The country club smells like chlorine, sunscreen and money. You pass the front desk and spot Sohee’s station empty, he called in “sick” this morning, which you’re 99% sure just means he didn’t feel like putting on khakis today.

Out by the pool, Anton’s already leaning against the towel cart, arms crossed, hair still damp and glinting in the sun. His name tag is crooked, sunglasses hooked onto the collar of his navy polo like they live there.

“You’re late, I had to fold, like, four towels without you.”  He calls out but he’s smiling. 

“Tragic,” you deadpan, tossing your bag into the breakroom on the way over. “You want a medal or a hug?”

“A raise, actually.”

You roll your eyes but the corners of your mouth tug upward anyway. He looks good, tanned and relaxed with a confidence he only wears in the summer. You’ve known his face forever but lately it feels like you’re noticing things more than you used to.

The way his shoulders have filled out. The way his hair curls slightly when it’s wet. The way he chews on the edge of his sunglasses when he’s focused. It’s subtle. Barely anything but it’s there. You grab a towel and start folding next to him.

“How’s Sohee?” Anton asks.

“Too sick to answer texts apparently,” you say with a laugh. “But healthy enough to post a gym selfie.”

Anton snorts, shaking his head as he flips a towel. Then after a beat he says, “My dad’s back.”

You glance over, softening. “Yeah?”

He nods once, eyes still on the towel in his hands. “Flew in yesterday. Just for the week.”

You pause. “How do you feel about that?”

He shrugs, like he doesn’t want to think too hard about it. “Happy, I guess. Just wish it was longer.”

There’s more he doesn’t say but you know it’s there. Anton doesn’t talk about his dad much. Not really. You know he wishes he came home more often. That he hates how normal it’s become to miss him.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, my parents invited you over for dinner tonight. You don’t have to come if you’re busy, but my mom thought it’d be nice.”

You smile, folding another towel. “I’d love to. I miss being around her.”

He glances over and the smile he gives you is soft. Grateful. A little relieved. “Cool.”

You finish the last of the towels in silence then the two of you head off to your stations, the sun already climbing higher in the sky.

___

You and Anton clock out right as the sun starts dipping behind the trees, casting everything in a late-summer haze. Your shirt sticks slightly to your back, your name tag is crooked and your tote feels heavier than usual.

Anton unlocks his Jeep with a click and you toss your bag into the back seat before climbing in. The windows are already down helping a bit with the heat. He turns on the car and your phone automatically connects to aux before he can even ask.

You scroll for a bit before settling on a random indie playlist. You’re halfway through the second song when your phone buzzes.

5:47 pm | sungchan 🐸: tell me this isn’t you 😭

The next text is a meme of someone dramatically face-planting into a bed labeled “me after a 5 hour shift of standing still pretending to be helpful” You snort. Another buzz comes in.

5:50 pm | sungchan 🐸: also ur slushie combo is elite don’t let anyone tell you diff brodie 🙏🏻

You giggle, thumbs tapping out a quick reply. Anton glances sideways. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head. “Sungchan went back to the seven eleven to try my slushie combo you all clowned me for and for the record he thinks it tastes great.”

Anton lets out a short laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You two text a lot, huh?”

You glance at him. “I mean…yeah, I guess. He’s funny.”

“Hilarious,” Anton mutters as his fingers tighten slightly on the steering wheel. You blink but say nothing, turning back to your phone.

Anton pulls into his driveway a few minutes later and before he’s even out of the car, you spot someone through the window waving a controller in the air.

Anton helps you out of the jeep and unlocks the front door of his home and allows you to walk in first. “About time,” Junyoung calls from the couch, controller in hand. “I’ve been waiting for backup.”

He looks so different it almost knocks you back. He’s taller than Anton now. Freshly sixteen. Still adorable but no braces, no bowl cut just sharp cheekbones, a deeper voice and the same mischievous grin.

“Excuse me,” you say, stepping inside and tossing your bag down. “I’ve been working. What’s your excuse?”

“Don’t need one,” he says simply, then pulls you into a hug that knocks the air out of you. “Also, Anton still sucks. You’re playing next round.”

Anton scoffs. “You got lucky once.”

You throw yourself onto the couch beside Junyoung grabbing a spare controller with a grin. “Please. You’ve always sucked at gaming.”

“Facts. You remember that one time he rage quit because you beat him three rounds in a row?” Junyoung says smirking as he unpauses the game.

Anton groans behind you. “That was like eight years ago.”

“It’s okay, Ton. Losing builds character.” You say sweetly, nudging Junyoung with your shoulder.

He’s about to retaliate, probably with a pillow to your face when the soft sound of footsteps interrupts. Anton’s mom appears from around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“There she is,” she beams, already pulling you into a warm hug. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

You hug her back tightly. “I’ve missed you too.”

She pulls back just enough to cup your face in both hands. “It’s been too long.”

“I know! I’m sorry for not coming by sooner. Summer’s been more packed than I expected.” You say bashfully.

She waves off your apology with a soft cluck of her tongue. “As long as you come by again before the summer ends, you’re forgiven.”

“Of course! There’s no way I’m leaving without seeing you again.” You say.

That earns you a delighted cheek pinch and a mock stern, “Good. Now, are you hungry?”

“Always.”

“Perfect. I made all your favorites.”

You stare at her shocked. “Wait, seriously?”

She smiles. “You think I don’t remember?”

Your heart swells. “Can I help with anything?”

She waves you off. “No need. I’m sure Junyoung is dying to have you all to himself.”

Junyoung shrugs with a lopsided grin. “She gets me.”

Anton’s dad steps in next, he offers you a hug too, less animated but just as sincere.

“Hi, Welcome home.” You say, suddenly shy.

“It’s good to see you.” He says

You nod, a little overwhelmed. “It’s really good to see you too.”

He pulls back, studying your face for a moment like he’s trying to memorize it. “You’ve grown up well.”

You duck your head, smiling. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you’re still around, means a lot to me. To all of us.”

You blink a few times, heart tugging at the edges. “Me too.”

He gives your arm a squeeze before turning toward the kitchen to join his wife.

You plop back down beside Junyoung, resuming your spot with the controller and clear your throat. “Okay. Let’s see if you’re actually good or just all talk.”

“Bet,” Junyoung says.

Anton disappears up the stairs to change and you don’t think twice about it at least not until he comes back down a few minutes later with an extra hoodie draped over his arm. Without saying anything, he tosses it into your lap.

You look up at him. “What’s this for?”

He shrugs like it’s obvious. “The AC’s blasting,” he says casually. “You always get cold.”

You blink a few times then smile. “Right.”

You tug it on without thinking. It’s soft and smells faintly like his laundry detergent, the sleeves are a little too long and the collar is stretched, proof it’s been worn a lot.

Your chest tightens in a way that’s becoming more frequent around him. It’s nothing. Just a hoodie you try to remind yourself but it still makes your chest go a little funny.

Maybe it’s because he just knows. He doesn’t ask, he just knows. Little stuff you don’t even realize you’ve said out loud like how you always run cold or that you sleep better with background noise or that you hate when your food touches on the plate even if you pretend it doesn’t matter.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Anytime.” He says as he shrugs like it’s nothing.

You settle deeper into the couch, tugging the sleeves over your hands and letting the warmth wrap around you. Anton turns his attention to the screen, where Junyoung is still mid-game yelling something about lag and you pulling him down.

You glance over at Anton once more and wonder when this started feeling different. When something so small, so simple began to mean so much.

Soon, Anton’s mom calls everyone to dinner and Junyoung is the first to jump up, already bragging about how he carried the team.

You and Anton follow behind and the smell hits you instantly. His mom has always been an incredible cook and the dining table proves it. Bowls of banchan, platters of rice, soy-glazed chicken, kimchi pancakes still steaming. Your mouth waters just looking at it.

Anton’s dad pours sparkling water into your glass before settling across from you and his mom gestures for you to sit wherever you’d like. You slide into the seat beside Anton without thinking.

“So,” his mom says brightly, already passing you the rice spoon, “how’s school?”

You sigh and give a small laugh. “It’s…fine. I’m ready to be done.” Everyone laughs at that. Even Anton lets out a knowing groan.

“Any plans for after graduation?” his dad asks.

You shrug. “Thinking of taking a gap year. Traveling a little before applying to grad school.”

“Ooh, I love that,” his mom says, eyes lighting up. “Where to?”

You rattle off a few places; Shanghai, maybe Spain, somewhere in West Africa if you can swing it. His dad nods. “Do you know what your concentration will be?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “Lately I’ve been leaning toward cancer research but it’s still a little fuzzy.” Anton hums beside you, like he’s storing the answer somewhere.

Then with barely a beat his mom tilts her head. “And what about dating? Anyone special?”

You choke on your water a little, coughing into your sleeve. Anton groans immediately. “Mom,” he says, dragging the word out like a sigh.

“What? I’m just asking. You’re gorgeous and smart. Don’t tell me no one’s caught your eye.” She says smiling innocently.

You laugh awkwardly but politely. “No, there’s no one right now. I haven’t really thought about it much lately.”

“Mmm, what about Sungchan?” She says then smiles again.

That makes you pause. “Wait—how do you know Sungchan?”

“I saw the photo strips,” she says with a little twinkle in her eye.

Oh. Right.

You’d completely forgotten about those. A few weeks ago all five of you had gone to Boston on a whim. No plans, just the weekend off and nowhere to be. You’d convinced everyone it would be fun. Harvey wanted to thrift, Sungchan wanted an excuse to wear his bucket hat, Sohee said he knew a good boba spot and Anton didn’t even need convincing.

You took the train into the city and spent the morning biking around the reflecting pool weaving past couples on picnic blankets and kids chasing each other through fountains. The five of you looked ridiculous riding in a single file line, Anton almost crashed into a tree trying to get a video of Harvey singing One Direction off-key.

You drifted in and out of thrift stores, tried on sunglasses you didn’t plan to buy and dragged the boys into little boutiques on Newbury with Harvey. Sungchan found a pink faux fur jacket and wore it for twenty minutes before the shop owner asked if you were planning on purchasing anything.

You ended your trip at a hole-in-the-wall record store where there was a photobooth hidden away inside. You took one group strip first, crammed shoulder to shoulder props half-falling off, the flash going off before you were ready.

You remember Sungchan's arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer at the last second. In one of the shots, you and Anton are smiling at each other and the rest of the frame is a blur of laughter and too many hands trying to hold up signs that said things like “hot stuff” and “assalicious.”

After that you and Anton took one together just the two of you. You don’t remember much about what you were doing (laughing probably) but you remember the feeling.

The warmth of him beside you in that cramped booth. The way he nudged the silly heart glasses higher on your head. You’d meant to keep the strips in your tote, maybe stick them on your mirror when you got home but now that his mom mentioned it…you must’ve left them in his car.

You clear your throat. “He’s nice,” you say carefully. “Funny. Cute, I guess. I don’t know if he’s interested though.”

She nods in understanding and asks Anton about the Country Club. You’re not shocked at how easily she jumps from questioning you about your love life to a casual conversation with her son about work.

No, what surprises you and catches you a little off guard though is that your heart doesn’t jump. It doesn’t flutter. Doesn’t twist or do any of the things it’s supposed to do when someone mentions a boy who might like you and that’s strange, isn’t it?

If you’re being honest, Sungchan was a highlight that day. He made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt when he tried to mimic a Boston accent and failed miserably. He offered to carry your tote bag without asking.

At one point, he walked beside you while you searched for somewhere to grab dessert and gently guided you away from an oncoming cyclist by your waist. It was the kind of casual touch that should’ve made your stomach flip but it didn’t. It was sweet. He’s sweet but that’s not what your brain lingers on.

You think about Anton standing at the boba shop counter, ordering and paying for your drink without needing to ask. You were all sitting along the curb outside, legs stretched out taking some polaroids. He didn’t even look at you when he slid the drink into your hand, just nudged your arm and said, “stay hydrated.”

You think about the matcha cream puff you couldn’t finish and how he took the last bite like it was nothing then wiped a bit of powdered sugar from your cheek. No one saw but it stuck with you.

There was also the walk back to the station. You were tired, arms full of snacks and shopping bags and Anton reached out without a word to take the heavier ones. A minute later, your hands brushed. Then again and on the third pass, he took yours gently and held it the rest of the way.

You also think about the tiny corner gift shop at the station, where you were killing time before the next train. You’d wandered off from the group, flipping through a rack of silly trinkets and keychains when Anton joined you, holding up a set of tiny peaches; one smiling, one frowning.

“So you don’t lose your keys,” he said, voice teasing but quiet.

You snorted. “You’re so annoying. I don’t lose my keys that often.”

But he still bought them.

Later that night on the train, he clipped the frowning one to your keys while you weren’t looking. You only noticed after he dropped you off at home and you pulled them out of your tote. The smiling one showed up a few days later, hooked to the strap of his duffle bag.

Anton doesn’t say anything. You glance over and he’s still eating but slower now. Focused a little too hard on pushing rice across his plate like it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

The conversation keeps going. His mom is asking about dessert. Junyoung’s already halfway through his second helping. His dad pours another glass of wine and says something that makes everyone laugh but it all blurs around you.

The truth is, your heart does flutter. It does twist and tighten and pull in that annoyingly dizzying way you’ve always associated with feelings you told yourself you didn’t have. They were so woven into everything that you didn’t notice when they shifted into something else. 

You look down at your plate and suddenly you’re not as hungry because it’s in that moment that it dawns on you…you’re in love with your best friend.

You stay quiet for the rest of dinner, laughing where you’re supposed to, answering questions when asked but your mind is still back there. Looping through little things—glances, touches, inside jokes that suddenly feel like more. Anton offers to drive you home. You nod.

The ride is quiet. The playlist from earlier still playing low. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and you pick at your cuticles.

“Sorry about my mom,” he says eventually, voice softer now. “She’s just nosy.”

You force a smile. “It’s fine. She’s sweet.” He glances over. You don’t meet his eyes. Your throat feels too tight.

When he pulls into your driveway, you unbuckle your seatbelt a little too fast. “Thanks again. For the ride and dinner.”

He starts to say something, maybe to ask what’s wrong but you’re already out the door, waving. “Night, Anton.”

You don’t mean for it to sound rushed but it does. You shut the door gently almost guiltily and don’t look back as you walk up your porch steps. He stays there for a beat before finally driving off.

The second you’re inside you drop your tote in the hallway and lean against the door. The realization crashes over you again like a wave. You’re in love with Anton.

You fumble for your phone, thumbs shaking slightly as you scroll through your contacts. The tears don’t fall right away. You rush up the steps into your bedroom to avoid facing your parents. Once you’re in your room you close the door and hit call.

It’s 10 PM your time somewhere past noon in Japan but Maya answers on the third ring, eyebrows raised and hair in a messy bun. “Hey! I was literally about to text—wait. What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

You open your mouth but the tears slip out before you can stop them. Maya sits up fast. “Wait—what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

You shake your head quickly, wiping at your cheeks. “I’m okay. I’m just—Maya…”

“Hey, hey, slow down, what happened?” She says softly, her voice losing its playfulness. 

“I think I’m in love with Anton.”

She pauses. Doesn’t tease. Doesn’t laugh. She just exhales like she already knew. “Okay.”

You sniff, surprised. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Tell me what happened.” She says.

You wipe your eyes and tell her everything. About the night of the storm, about dinner, about the hoodie, about the way it just hit you all at once. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. It’s so obvious now.”

Maya listens quietly, nodding like she’s been waiting for this call for years.

“But he doesn’t like me,” you add quickly. “Not like that. He’s never said anything and if I tell him it’ll ruin everything.”

Maya’s deadpan. “____. The boy gave up his summer to work a minimum-wage job at a country club with you.”

You frown. “It’s not like that. We’ve always done stuff together. It’s tradition.”

She actually scoffs. “Okay, what about the time he walked across campus in the rain just to bring you cough drops because your throat was sore? Or how he always waits outside your last class so you don’t have to walk back to the dorms alone, even when it’s freezing? He doesn’t do that for anyone else.” You open your mouth to argue but she keeps going.

“He’s the one who made you that dumb finals playlist when you were stressed remember? And brought you hot chocolate when your cramps were bad. He even learned how to fold your laundry the way you like because you hate when your shirts get wrinkled.”

She’s not even teasing anymore. She’s just listing things. Facts. Things you somehow forgot until now.

“He brings an extra hoodie to study nights without saying why, brings an extra charger in case you forget, reminds you to eat before exams, he carries your bag when your shoulder’s acting up.”

Each example lands a little heavier than the last. Maya gives you a second, then says softly, “All that isn’t just sweet. That’s someone who’s paying attention.”

She waits for you to say something but when you stubbronly stay silent she says. “That’s someone who’s equally in love with you.” You sniff in response.

It’s one thing to feel it, the persistent ache you’ve been brushing off all summer but it’s another to hear it spoken out loud. Plain, true and undeniable. Your voice comes out small. “But what if I’m wrong?”

“You’re not.”

“But what if I ruin everything?”

Maya doesn’t flinch. “Then you ‘ruin’ it for the right reason.” She says with air quotes.

You pull your knees to your chest, hoodie sleeves covering your hands. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t. You know him. Anton wouldn’t walk away just because things got complicated. He’s not wired like that.” She says gently.

Still, your silence stretches long. Maya’s voice softens even more. “Just sit with it. Don’t panic. I’m not saying confess your love tomorrow or anything.”

You let out the weakest laugh imaginable.

She smiles. “Just…think about it. Let it be true for a while. See what it feels like.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”

There’s a quiet beat between you, like the calm after the storm. Maya’s eyes are kind through the screen. She doesn’t say I told you so, doesn’t tease, just sits with you in the moment. Your phone buzzes and you glance down at the notification banner.

9:10 pm | sungchan 🐸: kickback @ mine tmr u losers in?

You read it twice. Maya notes your expression. “Groupchat?”

You nod. “Sungchan’s throwing something tomorrow.”

“You gonna go?”

“Yeah, I think I need the distraction.”  You murmur.

Maya hums. “It’ll be good. Just…don’t avoid Anton okay? He doesn’t know what you’re feeling. If you pull away now he might think it’s about him.”

You nod again. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Good and text me the second anything happens. Happy, awkward—whatever. I want updates.”

You smile and nod. “Thanks, Maya.”

“Of course, that’s what best friends are for. Now go to bed and call me tomorrow. I still want to finish our Vampire Diaries rewatch.”

You laugh. “You just want to yell at Damon again.”

“He deserves it.”

You hang up with a grateful goodbye then scroll back to the groupchat that’s now lighting up your lockscreen.

9:13 pm | harvey 👽: sungchan can u get more edibles and should i bring snacks 9:13 pm | sungchan 🐸: i’ll ask eunseok 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 9:14 pm |sohehe🕺🏻: i’ll bring beer 9:14 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: also can we crash at yours sungchan? don’t feel like driving after 9:16 pm | you: does ur house have a pool it’s gonna be 90 degrees 😭 9:16 pm | sungchan 🐸: duh. bring ur hottest bikini 😉

You snort and thumbs down the message.

9:17 pm | you: reported for harassment. 9:18 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: bro u flirt like a 2007 facebook status 9:20 pm | sungchan 🐸: y’all are just jealous i’m bringing the ✨vibes✨ 9:20 pm | ton 🦕: you’re bringing a headache. 9:20 pm | you: chat he’s already sighing and we haven’t even left the house 9:21 pm | ton 🦕: i’m sighing because i know i’ll be the one cleaning up after you gremlins 9:22 pm | you: anyways can someone bring uno 9:22 pm | harvey 👽: ooo and the karaoke mic 9:23 pm | sungchan 🐸: oh it’s so over for y’all 9:23 pm | ton 🦕: if you bring that mic i’m leaving 9:23 pm | you: you say that every time and you stay the longest?? 9: 24 pm | harvey 👽: and hog the mic like it’s your world tour 9:24 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: WHO is this diva 9:25 pm | sungchan 🐸: bro sings like simon cowell is in the room 9:25 pm | ton 🦕: i hate you all. what time should we be there 9:26 pm | sungchan 🐸: idk maybe like 1 9:27 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: i’m not bringing sunscreen someone better share 9:30 pm | you: i got u 🫦 9:31 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: 🫤 that emoji was unnecessary.

You’re about to turn off your phone when it starts buzzing again but this time with a FaceTime from Harvey. You answer and her face fills the screen framed by fairy lights and the beginnings of her skincare routine. She’s got one of those fluffy headbands on, the kind with little bear ears and she’s holding a popsicle like it’s a microphone.

“Heyyy,” she sings, already grinning. “Can I come over in the morning to get ready with you?”

You nod, shifting on your blanket. “Only if you drive to Sungchan’s.”

Harvey snorts. “Obviously. You act like I trust you behind the wheel of any vehicle.” You laugh and tell her to shut up, she laughs as well but then her expression shifts still playful, just a little more curious.

“Also, random question, what’s going on with you and Sungchan?” She asks, tilting her head.

You balk at her “Me and Sungchan?”

She shrugs, licking her popsicle. “I don’t know. Just…I’ve picked up on some flirting. Has something happened?”

You shake your head. “No. Not on my end at least. He’s just a cool friend.”

Harvey hums like she doesn’t entirely buy it but isn’t surprised either. “Cool. Still team Anton, though.”

Your breath catches slightly but you force a smile. “Harv…”

“What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.” She says with a lazy grin.

You don’t say anything to that. You could and you probably should but the words don’t come. Not yet, not when your heart still feels like it’s trying to catch up with itself.

“Anyway,” she says, glancing at the time, “I’ll be there at ten. Charge the karaoke mic.”

You nod. “Night, Harv.”

“Night, girly pop.”

The call ends and you set your phone facedown on the nightstand. You collapse onto your bed and stare up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow you’ll have to see him again smile like nothing’s changed and pretend everything hasn’t completely shifted beneath your feet. You roll onto your side, pressing your face into the hoodie he gave you, the sleeves still bunched at your wrists.

You don’t know what comes next, you don’t know what it’ll mean if he doesn’t feel the same. You don’t know if you’re ready to find out. For now, you just lie in bed still and silent, hoping that somehow when the sun comes up, you'll know what to do.

[fuji09]

Ok so I've seen a lot of different povs on last week's episode of 9-1-1. My thoughts are that grief manifests in many different ways and 9-1-1 did a really good job of showing that.

Chimney's grief manifests as DENIAL. He won't talk to anyone. He stays out of his own home to be alone and avoid the issue. He goes running so he doesn't have to think. He refuses to even think about Bobby because when he does he feels so guilty. Survivors guilt cranked up a few notches due to the situation.

Buck's grief manifests as CARETAKING. He takes on the role of caretaker to everyone else because Bobby was the caretaker. He steps up to help everyone else around him, ignoring his own needs in the process. He tries to understand where everyone else is at in their grief so he can help them through it in the best way he can.

Eddie's grief manifests as ANGER. He feels guilty for not being there. He takes his anger out on anyone who tries to comfort him because he feels he doesn't deserve it because he wasn't there. He yells at Buck and gets in his face because he's trying to keep in his feelings but that leads to him finally blowing up.

Hen's grief manifests as NUMBNESS. She feels detached and she kinda just goes with the flow. Existing but not living. She goes back to work a few weeks early since everyone else is going back that same day. She's offered Bobby's position and turns it down even though everyone else feels she should take the promotion. She puts on a brave face for everyone else.

Athena's grief manifests as DENIAL. She can't believe that the man she loves is gone. She feels him everywhere she goes. She doesn't try to get the body back because once that happens, then the funeral can be done. She drags her feet on making funeral arrangements and picking where to lay Bobby's body to rest. Every place she checks out is never the right place. She ignores her kids because they are trying to help her get everything done.

Maddie's grief manifests as LONELINESS. She isn't "one of them" but also she is one of them. She was the 911 dispatcher that helped them and even though she wasn't physically there, she was still there the whole time. She's pregnant, her husband is avoiding her and her brother is busy taking care of everyone else and Maddie is just alone in it. She longs for comfort from her friends and family but she can't get it.

Ravi's grief manifests as ANXIETY. He feels guilty for almost quitting. He feels partly responsible for what happened because he refused to leave because they thought someone else (the person who caused this entire mess) was still in there and he refused to leave that person behind. They get trapped inside because he didn't leave when Bobby first told everyone to head back. He's worried it's all his fault and that everyone else will blame him. He still doesn't feel like he's officially one of them and he wanted to quit. He stayed and now Bobby is dead.

Everything they are all feeling is valid. But every reaction isn't ok. Eddie yelling at Buck and taking his anger out on him? Not ok. Chimney refusing to talk to anyone? Not ok. Buck ignoring his own needs to take care of everyone else? Not ok. Athena refusing to do what's needed? Not ok. These reactions are harmful to either themselves or the others around them.

But these reactions are also understandable. Humans aren't perfect. That doesn't make the reaction ok, but I get it. Apologies to some are needed but in the end hopefully everyone will learn from their mistakes. And because no one is perfect, some might not learn from it. Life is messy and sometimes ugly.

Obviously this is my interpretation on how they are feeling. I am not excusing any bad behavior, just explaining it. Some may see it differently and y'all are welcome to give your pov as well.

[musette22]

Hey Minnie, hope you're well. I love the discussions people are having about civil war Bucky even now. Though part of it makes me feel annoyed (not at you or anyone else here but at Marvel).

It really sucks seeing all the effort Marvel put in to make Bucky less sympathetic after Winter Soldier. In that movie, we saw Bucky completely vulnerable and alone and scared - a victim through and through. Which makes it so weird that leading up to cw the Russos kept saying stuff like 'Is Bucky a dangerous assassin or the world's longest serving pow?' 'Is he a killing machine or can he be Steve's friend again?' Like my guys, you already answered this in the previous movie! Especially when the first real scene we're given of Bucky is him buying plums at a market and smiling at the seller. How terrifying 🙄

Even the torture scenes are wildly different. In catws we see Bucky getting backhanded by his abuser followed by his terrified reaction to the machine. We saw him trembling, breathing heavily, saw the whites of his eyes and heard him whimper before he started screaming. The scene in cw is very . . . distant in comparison. There's a mask covering his face so we can't see his expression and the chair puts him in a much less vulnerable position. (And why include a torture scene if you're trying to leave it up to debate if he's innocent? They could've written him like 616 Bucky, who wasn't tortured and just had his memory erased. He still had a personality and autonomy to fight back against his handlers. Mcu Bucky had none of that).

Also I really hate the retcon of the code words. They should've kept the story from catws - the mind wipes + torture + drugs + brainwashing techniques. It was so much more complex and interesting and showed how bad it was for him. But then cw changed it to 'there's a switch we can flip in his brain to turn him into an uncontrollable killing machine when it's convenient'. It didn't add anything to the story, it was just a tool to make Bucky look more dangerous and to give a reason for him to be shoved in a freezer at the end. It also made it like getting rid of the code words just got rid of the trauma and pain that hydra gave him. (Even though after the code words were removed he was treated like he'd suddenly snap and kill everyone. Stupid writing).

And don't get me started on all the obvious rewrites, done to make Bucky look more dangerous and to stamp #nohomo all over Steve and Bucky. The soft, gentle 'Buck, do you know me?' versus the curt 'Which Bucky am I talking to?' There's some other really stupid dialogue, like when Steve and Sam are talking about Bucky. Sam suggests Nat is right in her saying Steve should not help/protect Bucky. Steve says 'He'd do it for me,' to which Sam replies 'In 1945 maybe.' The problem with this is at the end of catws, Bucky, with almost no memory of Steve, injured and scared, saved Steve from drowning, even though he'd been trying to kill him just before. So Bucky has proven he'd be there for Steve in the same way, well after 1945, which makes Sam's statement ridiculous.

Or the scene where Steve tries to tell Bucky what happened with Hydra wasn't his fault and Bucky says "I know. But I did it,' and Steve doesn't look at him and doesn't reply, which makes it look like he agreed with the notion that Bucky had responsibility. Earlier in the same movie Steve refuses to let Wanda blame herself for the incident in Lagos, so why can't he do the same for Bucky? #Nohomo. (Btw I don't blame either Sam or Steve here, it's not their fault the writing is atrocious).

This is why I'm the same as you Minnie, I refuse to regard a lot of the mcu canon. In my head Steve and Bucky went on the run together before getting their names cleared and enjoying a peaceful retirement together with Alpine.

Even though I can't bring myself to care, I'm genuinely happy that some fans enjoyed Thunderbolts. After all Marvel has done, we deserve something good, or at least decent. It's just that, to me, the whole 'supportive friendship' thing from Thunderbolts just rings hollow. Especially when they never properly addressed any of the trauma with the original avengers. It was either ignored or played off as jokes. Thunderbolts just feels like too little too late.

Sorry for this massive rant, you've just got a really good supportive space here and I appreciate that.

Hi lovely!! Apologies for taking a little while to answer this, sometimes shorter asks are easier to answer quickly, but it's definitely not because I didn't appreciate this ask, because I absolutely did!!

I can't tell you how interesting this was to read, or how much I agree with everything you said here. You make SUCH good point about Civil War and some of the terrible writing in that movie. The trigger words thing especially, but also the stupid dialogue and obvious rewrites (I hate the "which ;ucky am I talking to" line too 😒). I just completely agree - there's a reason I've only seen CW once or twice.

I'm also right there with you when it comes to disregarding canon and rewriting Steve and Bucky's ending in a way that actually makes sense for them and lets them be together the way they absolutely would have been if marvel/disney hadn't decided to no homo the shit out of them. I also feel your sentiments re: Thunderbolts (though tbh I don't really know anything about the plot or dynamic between the characters, so I can't say much about that).

And please don't apologise, you're welcome share your thoughts anytime, especially when they're as interesting as these are! I'm glad this blog feels like a supportive space for that ❤️

[fishymom-art]

HELLO!! tis wonderful to be in the ask box with an oc design again :]

this is Rose Water Cookie!! the other holder of Sanctified Powder's (Celestial Powder but corrupt) Soul Jam. His kingdom is on the coast, so I wanted to go with some lighter clothing, and some sandals, since he'd be around sand a lot. I got the idea from my friends in vc when i was banging my head against the wall to go for a swimsuit-esque look, so I think I'll be doing that for the normal citizens and such. It'd be really neat for them to just have their own themed swimsuits, like some have butterfly themed ones, some have flower themed ones, some have plain ones, etc. Someone on the Discord server also gave me the idea to give him bioluminescent hair like some oceans at nighttime!! Anyways, his character! Hes the Holder of Redemption, believing that anyone and everyone can change if they truly desire it, and truly try to achieve it. He first learned of this philosophy when one of his biggest bullies in school became one of his lifelong friends, the first citizen of his kingdom, and his first captain. (He's passed on by now, but its fiiiine, Rose is fine :]) I don't know how he got his Soul Jam yet, but I'd like to think that it had something to do with some sort of threat to Crispia, and he continuously tried to reach out to said source of danger, offering friendship, not stifling them in redemption. Just friendship. Not wanting them to think that he saw them as a project or anything. No matter if others told him that it was dangerous, or that he shouldn't be doing something so pointless. He kept on going. Eventually, this plan worked, and the threat was neutralized. He's kind of like PV in the sense that he Has No Enemies. Someone who once tried to usurp his throne is now his most loyal advisor, and royal wizard. (And crush,,, Peppercorn,,,) He's very kind, gentle, and will always listen if you need an ear. But he's also not weak, being a decently powerful summoner in the support class, and not being naive, either. He'll be able to tell if your lying to him, or just being fake. He also has a bad habit of overworking himself, especially nowadays after his story chapters, mainly out of guilt. The other Ancients, and Peppercorn, have tried to get him out of this habit, but to no avail.

Speaking of story chapters! Very proud of this story. Basically, after PV seemed to sacrifice himself, Rose crashed out. Especially after hearing about everything else going on in the world, and everything with his dearest friends. He couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone else. So, he devised a plan. He threw a celebration one day, and everyone was invited. Everyone got a day off. Some were confused as to why he was throwing a celebration Now of all times, but didn't question it. Everyone was happy, everyone was joyous. And so, that's when he cast a spell that put the kingdom in a bubble, and into a timeloop of that day. Of that one, joyous day. (I was originally gonna bs something about him finding a spell to do it, but then I realized that Golden Cheese literally made an Entire virtual city with the power of her Soul Jam, so I. kinda thought that wasn't necessary. /silly) And he himself, he replaced with a body double, who was essentially an empty puppet that just acted like him, and was put into an almost eternal slumber, reliving his happiest memories.

To make a long story short, the puppet was told to do anything at all to keep this time loop going and keep people none the wiser, but Peppercorn immediately caught on that this puppet wasn't Rose, no, he knew him too well. (fruity,,,) But the puppet kicked Peppercorn out of the loop, sending him out to the world in the middle of the war. Peppercorn is really strong, and damn stubborn, so he managed to survive. He also found an amulet that allowed him to stay crispy, and not die of old age, so he could find a way to save Rose, and the kingdom. He eventually got in contact with Pure Vanilla when he found out he was Back and Alive, and so after some shenanigans, PV, DC, GC, and Hollyberry got Rose and the kingdom out of the loop. Many were bitter, of course, but were thankful to not be in the war anymore, and knew he had good intentions. Some left the kingdom, which he would never blame them for, but he's working towards making the kingdom better, safer, and reinstating it in this era. But he will never, ever get over the guilt of what he did, no matter his intentions. The Paragon of Redemption still doesn't see Himself worthy of redemption. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this essay on my ancient oc!! I also have some stuff on his Beast Yeast chapter, like Powder literally just using global warming on his kingdom to get him to come to Beast Yeast, and putting him on trial for everything he's done, but he learns to move on from what he did when he awakens. I'm not sure who I'll be working on yet, maybe Peppercorn or one of the Cherry's? But I hope you enjoy this for now :] (It took a lot of banging my head against the wall /pf)

YIPPEEEEEEEEE ELAUEHDLGIAUEHLGIAUEHLGIAUE I LOVE IT!!!!!

[mmochammoss]

Dream Girl

Hitoshi Shinsou had dreams.

He dreamed of becoming a hero. Most people didn’t know that about him, not really. They probably assumed he’d given up or moved on, that the sports festival had just been a brief glimmer of ambition before reality came crashing in. But that wasn’t true. Not for him. That dream had lived inside him for too long to fade just because the odds were against him. But he knew better than to get his hopes up over it ever coming true. It was just a dream after all. That’s how he’d gotten this far, by keeping his head down, his goals tightly under wraps and his mouth shut.

But as the two of you began to spend more and more time together. Talking, laughing and growing more and more comfortable with each other. So he decided to tell you. He still wanted to be a hero, despite everything. He wasn’t sure how to make it happen, or if it would ever happen but it was his dream.

So when you told him that you believed in him, really believed, he’d never forget it.

“You’ve got the quirk, the discipline, and the heart for it,” you’d said after school one day, sitting out on the patio of your favorite cafe. “You just need the body to back it up.”

And maybe it was the heat of the afternoon or the shine in your eyes, but those words stuck with him. Stuck with him so hard that he found himself asking if you’d train with him. Help him get stronger. Sharpen his skills. Push his limits.

He didn’t expect you to say yes. But you did. And just like that, you became his workout partner.

Every day after school, the two of you would meet up at the training gym or the outdoor track and get to work. You were a natural leader, encouraging, relentless, funny, and having you there made everything easier. Well… sort of. It also made everything harder.

Because Hitoshi was developing a crush.

Not the innocent, passing kind, either. The kind that made him think about your laugh after midnight and replay the way your hands would linger on his arms while correcting his form. You were so kind. So strong. And he was so whipped.

He knew better than to make it weird. You were his friend. One of his best friends now, and that mattered more than some stupid, hormonal crush.

So he kept it quiet. Let himself smile when you leaned too close. Let his eyes linger when you stretched after a workout, skin dewy with sweat, tank top clinging to every line of your body.

But he couldn’t help the way his thoughts drifted sometimes. Couldn’t help the way he watched you out of the corner of his eye during workouts or the way his heart sped up at the memory of your laugh more times than he could admit to anyone, even himself.

It also didn’t help that you loved to tease. It was playful at first, but lately it had felt like… more. Teasing comments. Flirty quips. Lingering glances. Inside jokes that toed the line of something else entirely.

But he was content to suffer in silence. To let the crush stay a crush.

Until the night he grabbed the wrong gym bag.

He didn’t realize it until he got back to his dorm and dropped the bag on his desk. The moment he unzipped it, he saw the telltale signs: your water bottle, your deodorant, your extra sports bra folded at the bottom.

His stomach dropped.

He immediately texted you.

Hitoshi: pretty sure i stole your bag

You: lmao yeah i’ve got yours. wanna swing by and trade?

Hitoshi: yea i can meet you out front.

You: or you could come in lol it’s no big deal.

He probably should’ve thought twice. Probably should’ve wondered why you didn’t just meet him outside. But if he was being honest, he was curious. Curious to see your room. Curious to see more of you.

You opened the door in a hoodie and socks, hair up and freshly washed face.

“Hey,” you said. “C’mon in.”

He stepped inside, glancing around your room, half a compliment forming on his lips

And then you were behind him, your arms slipping around his waist. Warm and confident.

And he didn’t even think.

He turned, still holding the bag,

And then you kissed him. Full, deep, without hesitation.

And he kissed you back like he’d been waiting his whole damn life.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, your lips soft and sure against his. And for a second he just stood there, stunned, heart jackhammering in his chest.

He dropped the bag. Pulled you in. Slotted his mouth against yours as you both fought for dominance over the kiss.

You gasped into his mouth, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt.

You were the first to pull back, just barely, lips still brushing his when you whispered,

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

His brain stuttered.

You wanted to do this with him? You wanted him? You, the girl who trained with him every day and had the whole damn school wrapped around your finger, wanted him?

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but then your hands slid up under his shirt, palms flat against his stomach.

“What’s gotten into you?” he mumbled, breathless.

“You. You’ve been working so hard lately,” you murmured, kissing along his jaw, slow and sweet. “Watching you throw yourself into training? Seeing how serious you’ve gotten about your dream… it’s hot, Shinsou.”

He shuddered.

His shirt came off. He let you peel it off him, let you touch him, let your fingertips explore the soft muscle he’d been slowly building week after week. You weren’t just admiring him, you were drinking him in.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice low and already wrecked. “What are you doing to me?”

You smiled, a little dazed, a little too proud of yourself.

“Just making good on all the times I thought about touching you like this after a workout.”

He let out a choked laugh. Half flattered, half aroused, and then…

You slowly dropped to your knees.

His breath hitched.

“Can I?” you asked, looking up at him with those wide, pretty eyes. “Can I suck you off, Hitoshi? Please?”

His knees nearly buckled.

“Y-Yeah. Yes. Yes, Please.”

You made quick work of his sweats, tugging them down until his cock sprung free, rock hard from just a few kisses and the sound of your voice.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, licking your lips. “You’re perfect.”

“Fuck—” he gasped as you wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. Your touch was soft but confident. Like you’d fantasized about this before. Like you knew exactly what you were doing.

And when your lips finally wrapped around the head of his cock?

He actually whimpered.

You licked a stripe up the underside, slow and teasing, then bobbed your head down, taking him deeper and deeper, moaning around him like you were enjoying every second of it.

He couldn’t believe it. This was actually happening.

You were on your knees. In your room. Worshipping him like he was something worth sinking to the floor for.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, one hand flying to your head, fingers trembling as they threaded into your hair. He didn’t push, just held on, needing something to anchor him while you sucked the soul out of him.

He had no idea how long you kept going. Time warped when your mouth was on him. Every bob of your head, every flick of your tongue, every filthy little slurp had his stomach tightening, hips twitching.

“I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

You pulled off suddenly, panting slightly, lips slick and eyes heavy with lust.

“Not yet,” you said. “Want you to finish inside me. Want to ride you.”

His brain blanked out.

You stood, stripping for him slowly. Shirt first, revealing the swell of your breasts, no bra. Then your shorts and panties came down in one smooth motion, leaving you bare and glowing in the soft light of your room.

He could barely breathe.

You pushed him back onto your bed, and he went willingly, watching as you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips with practiced ease.

He was still soaked from your mouth, and you didn’t hesitate, just reached between your legs, guided him to your entrance, and slowly, achingly, sank down onto him.

He nearly passed out.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, hands flying to your hips as you bottomed out. “You feel—god, baby—”

You whimpered, bracing your hands on his toned, firm chest, hips rocking forward gently.

“You’re so big, Hitoshi,” you moaned. “So deep already. It’s too good, baby~.”

He watched, transfixed, as you started to move. Rolling your hips, bouncing just slightly. His cock dragged against your walls perfectly, snug and hot and dripping wet.

“You’re perfect,” he gasped. “You feel—fuck, you feel like a dream.”

You smiled through a moan, tossing your hair over your shoulder.

“You’re so sexy, Hitoshi. Getting so big and strong for me. And that voice—fuck, I can’t think straight when you say my name during training.”

He groaned. Loud. thrusting up into you in response.

Your praise was making his head spin.

“Y-You—hmm Fuck—don’t have to wait anymore,” he babbled, voice shaky, hands smoothing up your waist, “You want this? I’m yours. I’ll give you everything.”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

“Say it again,” you breathed.

“I’m yours,” he repeated, more desperate now, hips bucking up to meet yours. “You can have me anytime you want. However you want. Please, baby—fuck—I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks.”

That did it.

You moaned his name as you came, grinding down on him, tightening around him with a wet clench that pushed him right to the edge.

He sat up, wrapped his arms around your waist, and flipped you effortlessly beneath him. Your legs went around his hips and he thrust into you harder now, faster, chasing his high with a rawness he’d never felt before.

“Mine,” he growled, nipping at your jaw. “If I’m yours then you’re mine too. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you cried, your body shivering against his. “Hitoshi, I’m yours—fuck—I want it, want all of you!”

That was it.

He came with a deep, wrecked moan, burying himself to the hilt and spilling inside you, his whole body tensing as he rode it out.

And then—

He blinked.

His room. His bed. And the rising sun.

His sheets soaked through. His briefs sticking uncomfortably to his thighs.

He groaned, dragging a hand over his face.

“Fuck me.”

It had been a dream.

A very vivid, very detailed,

And very, very wet dream.

He sat up in his own mess feeling so embarrassed and slightly ashamed. He should have known all of that was too good to be true. You were just friends. Just friends.

But at least he could dream, right?

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Requests are open!! <3

[daizyblood]

//SPOILERS// For today's E.A.P.S episode

Mmmmm, hahaha- People are partly right when they say Charlie isn't to blame

The adults (minus Eclipse) are to blame.

HENRY is to blame.

Everyone saw how Charlie was behaving and did jackshit. (Again, excluding Eclipse)

But more specifically, Henry didn't correct his own daughter's behavior. Children are who you mold them into (typically) so her having no regard for personal boundaries or an understanding of consent is heavily reflective of what kind of parent Henry is.

Eclipse took care of her while Henry was out of the picture, which was nice but Charlie is no longer his responsibility outside of helping her with her powers, he shouldn't have had to give her so many warnings (not turning him into a baby for example, he did tell her not to do that), Henry should've stepped in before it got to this point.

Charlie however is not an idiot or an innocent child, she is a preteen, 11 is far too old to be acting like this, even without Henry actively teaching her boundaries she should've been able to learn them by interacting with other children or people generally.

Eclipse shouldn't have told her that the best thing she did was die, that was absolutely not okay, but him saying that doesn't suddenly make him part of the problem, it's a blip in contrast to how he's been treated before.

It's still bad regardless, and I have seen some people say it was probably the virus-

Oh right, that, the world-ending catastrophe that Eclipse is responsible for keeping at bay and/or getting rid of.

Charlie's powers are important but not as important as THE END OF THE WORLD, yes a lack of attention can cause children to act out, especially when it's someone who previously spent a lot of time with them, but hitting him in the face with a... What was it? A hammer? Whatever it was, she still hit him, turning him into a baby and making fun of him? Bothering him non-stop during a high stress situation? Like c'mon, wtf-

Apart from Henry, there are so many people who could be teaching her otherwise, who should be explaining to her why what she is doing isn't okay, but, once again, she is also too old to be doing this shit.

And that "apology" was baffling, girly pop, respectfully... No-

I get she was just doing what Ruin asked (distraction 💃🪩) however she could've done literally anything else.

Charlie may be a child but she still needs to take accountability (as does Henry for lacking in his parenting)

And virus or not, Eclipse should apologize for saying smth like that, cause that was wild 😭

NOT ONLY THAT Charlie needs to redo that apology and be given an appropriate punishment (grounding, taking of a privilege, extra chores JUST SMTH-)

Eclipse has his own responsibilities, his children, the virus, himself- so on, he can't always be dealing with Charlie nor should he have too when she has a present parent.

OMG AND ROXANNE oh you- WHY I OUGHTA- Girl, you cannot be there enforcing said behavior, cause that's not okay either.

She has seen Eclipse in his darkest moment and still treated him like that.

Fucking crazy, some friend 💀

Anyway now that I've got that off my chest... Maybe I'll go draw? Idk still not feeling great... Mkay baaiiiiiii

OH and for anyone confused on the episodes I'm talking about (y'know, for future when this post is no longer relevant-), the one where Eclipse gets hit is "Charlie Becomes A DENTIST!" The one where he turns into a baby is "ECLIPSE BECOMES A MISERABLE BABY!" And the one where shit really hits the fan is "ECLIPSE HATES CHARLIE!!!"

[lover-of-mine]

I only started following you last year. So Im curious when did you start watching and following the cast (specifically Ryan and Oliver). Im only curious because I followed Oliver since e Badlands and have watched live since 1. Ryan after he joined the cast, again live the whole time for him. And when it comes to looking at those interviews I don't think some can appreciate just how big it is Oliver said super gay. Because they were always attacked.

Ryan always got IMHO the no homo gay (that always seemed like it was more from the racist crowd).

And Oliver always got the we should cancel you if they don't go Canon hate.

It's alot of the reason (outside of some of the other drama) that Oliver stopped what would be viewed as queerbaiting. Even would he some times would interact more a stupid fan would go to far.

I don't know. Just curious because I don't think people understand Oliver would have said that S2 or S4 and not care. But Oliver the last few years. He would have never.

Yeah, I only started following Oliver when I started watching the show, I started watching during the 5a/b hiatus, but I do research obsessively so I did read A LOT on him, around the way he talks about buddie and Buck's relationship with Eddie more because I am who I am, and Oliver pre Buck coming out, he reacted in a very specific way, that man is TERRIFIED of the allegations, it's why every time he says something recently I go a little bit insane, because he was picking full-blown fights with people on twitter over maybe possibly someone accusing him of baiting, so that super gay and the thing about the writers saying "that's not how I would talk to my best friend", that's HUGE because it's not a random moment Buck had with a character that will never show up again, this is about a key scene for buddie. That is not about anyone else. And it is acknowledging that Buck's bi breadcrumbs are around Eddie not the fucking tapeworm guy lol

I've been aware of Ryan and following him since step up 4 came out, so him I've been aware of and looking into for over a decade, so I agree that Ryan usually gets this particular type of hate, from what I noticed it always comes back to people speculating too hard on his sexuality and how that would affect his acting and not what is actually happening in whatever media he's in, but yeah, it does feel like it is a more racist thing and the expectation that he is either closeted and fighting for his life or he's just extremely intolerant.

The thing right now for me is that Oliver has a lot more freedom to speak because Buck is out. As long as Eddie is being described as straight on the show, Ryan can't really go against it. But the fact that Oliver is talking the way he is in comparison to other points in time and even in comparison to last year when Buck came out? That's the big thing because either he got real cool with being accused of baiting or something is happening.