#he wanted to play with the other kids so bad

[starshinedreamer]

Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[avionvadion]

This Trey discourse is getting ridiculous.

Tell me you don’t understand the dream without telling you don’t understand the dream. Tell me you don’t like Trey or understand his character without telling me you don’t like Trey or understand his character. For starters, the reason most of the fandom disliked Trey early on- book one. He didn’t stand up to Riddle’s mother or stop Riddle from being a tyrant.

Argument one: he was a child. A ten year old child whose parents were being screamed at for five hours straight (something of which BOTH Idia and Leona are horrified by, and those two had some strict upbringings themselves) while listening to eight year old Riddle wailing and sobbing for his mother to stop. That shit is traumatizing. Have you ever been screamed at unjustly as a kid? It’s terrifying. It haunts you. That kind of memory latches on and never lets go. Not without help.

Argument two: Trey is 18. He is a big brother. Not a parent. He didn’t raise his little siblings either, as his parents have a seemingly good relationship with each other and their children. He hasn’t seen Riddle in years, and while excited to see Riddle at the entrance ceremony he was quickly rebuffed by the now cold and steely Riddle who grew up under his abusive mother’s rule. He and Cater then worked with Riddle to dethrone their horrible then-dorm leader, and Trey was then sacrificed to the position of vice dorm leader because the entire dorm took a vote. Still, he did his best as vice dorm leader- not wanting to lose his head or watch their dorm mates stumble accidentally onto the execution block.

Trey, at the start, wasn’t particularly close to Riddle because Riddle wouldn’t let him be, and as someone who was traumatized by what happened when he WAS A CHILD likely struggled to speak up against Riddle’s harsher rules, and that most likely muddled together with Trey’s wish for Riddle to be happy. Going against Riddle would lead to conflict, and Riddle is short tempered as is. Trey likely believed that standing up to Riddle would make things worse instead of better.

He learns quickly from Adeuce later in book one how wrong he was, but that’s beside the point. The best Trey could do in the position HE DID NOT WANT was to give advice to his dorm mates and attempt to be Riddle’s voice of reason, acting as the peacemaker and struggling to keep any situation from escalating.

Something of note here, that I find particularly fascinating, is that it’s been stated by several characters that Riddle’s reign, though tyrannical, was nowhere near as bad as the last dorm leader- who was chaos incarnate. That plays a part in why Trey and Cater both were so willing to go along with Riddle’s iron ruling, even though both knew he was going about being dorm leader the wrong way.

There was no controlling or manipulating of Riddle- despite what Leona and Idia, who have ZERO CONNECTION AND INTERACTION with Trey and Cater prior to this dream, believed. There was no stopping Riddle, either. The best they could do was appease him and keep him calm.

Now, onto his dream.

We learn that Trey and his family “laugh” about what happened with Mrs. Rosebitch. This isn’t an, “oh they weren’t affected by what happened” situation, it’s an, “oh they were so badly affected by what happened that they can’t even talk about it properly because it’s so fucked up that they just laugh instead”. That’s called a trauma response. That trauma is so deeply rooted in Trey because he’s never learned to process it, that it’s there in his dream instead of being omitted.

Trey is also dreaming of a world in which Riddle has no stressful responsibilities. They’re at school, but his mother can’t reach him there, and Chen’ya- a childhood friend of Trey’s who was THERE when the Clover family got screamed at by Mrs. Rosebitch- is dorm leader instead. Riddle is not held down by what happened, and is seemingly “freed” from his mother’s cruel hand. Heartslabyul has become a safe space.

One built by Trey and Chen’ya, something they had unknowingly tried to do as children for Riddle (as they were unaware of the abuse, but had been a shining light for sweet baby Riddle who lived in the suffocating darkness) but failed- and paid severely for it.

Now, onto Fandom problem number two: the Round Bois.

I’m seeing people call Trey a “feeder” and are behaving harshly towards him because of it. But that literally couldn’t be farther from what’s happening. For example, let us take a look at his conversation with Vil (I brought my freaking receipts; this boy is my FAV of Heartslabyul) during Vil’s lab coat vignette.

We know Trey likes to bake.

He bakes for the Heartslabyul parties, and often gives Adeuce pastries to bring to Ramshackle to share with Yuu. But we learn in his New Years vignette that he bakes as a form of stress relief, too, to work his thoughts out and/or distract himself. It is a comfort to him. A safe space. And he knows whatever makes he will likely bring a smile to someone’s face. He enjoys baking, and he enjoys seeing people enjoy his sweets.

If someone is stressed, he encourages them to eat sweets- or cake with lots fruits, though that’s specific in this vignette because he just made a strawberry cake and was trying to find someone to give it to because it was one cake too many, lol, and Vil happened to be stressed out from something Rook said.

Trey isn’t being a “feeder” here or in his dream. He saw someone stressed and went, “Hey, I have a solution, why not try it? One slice won’t hurt and it’ll make you feel better/put you in a better mood.”

Baking is Trey’s solution, and a reliable source of comfort. He likes seeing how happy people are from the things he bakes, and he knows eating sweets can make other people happy. That’s why he goes out of his way to find someone to give the extra cake he accidentally made to- because it’ll put that person in a good mood and the cake will have a “good home” to go to.

Trey’s dream was basically giving Riddle and their other dorm mates a life where they could be happy and enjoy themselves without fear. A safe space. He could bake to his heart’s content in this massive kitchen his dream Heartslabyul provided, and everyone around him are happy and overall stress-free.

The reason they’re all ROUND BOIS???

It’s not because Trey was a “feeder” and fed them to that point, it’s because the dream-versions of his friends lacked self control and there was no one to stop them from eating sweet after sweet after sweet. They just happily ate whatever it was Trey baked, because he baked a lot- not to “feed” them, but because baking is something he greatly enjoys doing.

[lyltinc]

thinking about episode 26 again... it's unfortunate that chip killing that goblin to protect ollie never got to play out with significance in later episodes, because it's so interesting! even in the rolleds, condi and bizly mention wanting to bring it up later, because it's something that chip desperately didn't want to do, for fear of losing the good that arlin instilled in him. for fear of becoming the bad that his brother bruised on him.

because it's so ironic that jay says "eventually you're going to have to kill something", but the impetus of chip's departure from skullslice and from reuben was that first and only kill he was driven into.

and when a goblin gets ollie with a natural 20, he freaks the fuck out! of course he does!! he cares so so much for ollie, the younger kid he's protecting, and he responds the way his own once-brother, who, a long, long, long time ago, took on the dirty fighting of the streets for chip: with brutal, fierce violence. to snap bloody knuckles across the jaw of the world.

in fact, he steals this goblin's life the way he stole his first under reuben's orders. he stakes his swords right through his chest.

but he doesn't have time to dwell on this, on the blood on his hands, because there's ollie lying limp and lifeless on the floor. and chip's trying to shake him into awareness but he doesn't have any magical ability to heal, like gillion and jay do. he has to wait for jay to come around to get ollie up.

and then. the compass. because of his self-serving actions, ollie literally grows up too fast, and chip hurts this kid that he cares so deeply about. i have so so much more to say about this part of his arc in particular, especially to do with lizzie and chip, but! the point is that when he hurts ollie, albeit unintentionally, he can't help but see reuben in himself. he never calls ollie his younger brother, because reuben called him his little brother, and he's so scared of being like him. of hurting people like him.

that "inability to heal" (aka inability to help ollie) comes back around in episode 42, when gillion and chip are spending time in the infirmary. as chip jokes about how he doesn't have any divine magic of his own that can help people, aka heal them, gillion responds: "maybe it's your destiny to help people! ...i hope it is." and that "different kinds of people need different kinds of healing."

at this point, chip fundamentally does not see himself as 'someone who helps others', symbolized by his literal inability to access healing magic. in this scene in particular, he's been down for a while because of what happened to ollie, and because he feels as though he's in fault and has no way to fix it.

but gillion calls this out, telling him that there are different ways to help people, and then directly after this! chip incites the crew into helping the people of edison kingdom in his own way, stealing from the rich to give back to kids who remind him of himself.

so all of this to say. i think chip jrwi is cool

[asksonicverse]

You dont need to answer but I just wanted to tell you I adore Paradox being like "I hate all of them except" and then listing everyone except like 2 guys, honey you don't hate *all* of them you expressly don't hate *most of them*

Extremely charming characterization i adore it

[Creator Special number 2!]

So glad someone noticed that, I was originally going to have him name EVERYONE except Boost but then I was like “nah, Mania is just too annoying for Paradox to tolerate him”

And thanks! I’m trying to be… consistent with my characterization of each of them and stay in line with canon but like… URGH sometimes I want to deviate so bad just to indulge but I resist!

Needless to say tho, prism is probably going to get more affectionate later on. Rewatched Sonic Prime again and bro is a cutie patootie!

Headcanons… headcanons… hmm

Well, starting with the obvious, Paradox goes to therapy as I’ve mentioned which I think is hilarious. He and Lance are the only Shadows who really have their shit together which is why I think Sonadow works well for them? (we stan healthy relationships guys)

I do head canon that Eight doesn’t like being touched really at all anymore. After the metal virus, he grew so used to the fact that he couldn’t touch anyone that it sorta just stuck. He does it to save people, but not anything more. :(

And while I’m a sucker for the Trans Sonic HC I decided not to implement it in this particular AU!

I really want to include Captain Sonic and Shadow, but I haven’t played nor watched a serious play through of the game. (I’ve only really listened to a bit of the Snapcube dub..)

can someone tell me if Shadow is a Barista or a Mechanic in that game btw?? I google it, nothing pops up. I could’ve sworn there was something about a mechanic.

Uhh I LOVE Sonic Frontiers, fire game. If I include that one, it’ll ALSO be Sonamy since I’m pretty sure that game takes place before SA2 in canon?

I’m trying to keep the Sonics and Shadows balanced but I’d love to add Generations Shadow and Sonic. Just thinking of names already I get “Doom” for Shadow and “Emerald” for Sonic. (Referencing the fake emerald from their interaction in the shadow story)

Unfortunately I haven’t seen the Archie comics or Sonic Underground so I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Someone also asked about if I’d ever include different AU’s: maybe if those AU creators gave me permission I’d be down to do a collab for a few asks or something!

Nope!

I dunno I just..! … how do I do? I’m fast. And you’re slow. That’s how I did it. /ref

Ahahah just kidding! But I am very fast. A few years ago I convinced myself I was a “slow drawer” because I was in a discord server with someone I looked up to (and holy cheese they could draw out fully articulate sketches in like 30 seconds!)

So I got insecure and taught myself to draw really fast. So now I just.. zoom! This does have a terrible draw back where I will very frequently forget smaller details.

Like if you look at half the posts, Shadow is missing his eyeliner and other markings frequently.

THIS IS JUST HILARIOUS TO ME YOU GUYS. PLEASE—

I’ve gotten SO many asks in my box about using Maria to calm the Shadows down or trying to give Shadows “Maria plushies”

Imagine you’re having a bad day and you get a plushie of your dead sibling thrown at you??? LMFAOOOO

I CANT I CANT I CANT PUT THEM THROUGH THAT 💔 Also I see every single ask.

“Do you all like Latinas” and “sonic which shadow is the hottest/shadow which sonic is the hottest” have all been engraved in my brain

Was joking with a friend on how that second question would come out LMFAOO

Previous | Next

[yojeongin]

playing dangerous | k.dy

→bff’s stepdad!doyoung x f!reader

genre: smut, semi-angst, some fluff, forbidden affair, semi-character study

synopsis: summers are meant to be spent having fun with your best friend not fooling around with her step father.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! cheating, age gap (not focused between mcs), yearning, power imbalance, massive frued psychosexual theory undertones (that old man won), morally grey characters, alluding to cycle of predation and abuse of power, manipulation, lowkey ageism, doyoung heavy mommy issues (worrying actually), oral (m receiving), cum kiss, fingering, foot play, unprotected sex, creampie, voyeurism.

wc: 15.8k || anthology masterlist || soundtrack || ao3

© 2025 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: sorry this took longer than expected, im 3hrs late oops. the corporate lifestyle has been kicking my ass so bad (im so fucking miserable) and i wasn't satisfied with what i was going to post last week anyway so hope this is better (hope).

“Are you sure that’s your step dad and not step brother?”

Disbelief was too soft of a word for what you truly thought. When your friend had given you notice that her mother had married her boyfriend of two years (news to you), you had expected the man to be decrepit and gray haired. Not someone not too much older than what you were. 

Earlier you had confused him with one of the movers who helped bring in your friend’s and her mother’s items into the new home. You went as far as shooting him a flirty smile while making way to your friend who sat peacefully on the porch swing with a glass of cold lemonade to aid her from this horrid summer heat. 

“Yeah…“ she whines, throwing her head back enough to hit herself a tad with the backrest. “He makes her happy. As long as he does, I don’t care how old he is.” She felt judged by your constant questioning. As if she was the one marrying the man. As if she was living through her mother and her decisions to wed someone significantly younger than her. You were the last person she wanted to feel judged by, however could they truly blame your incessant curiosity and shock? Specifically when you never knew her mother was dating. What kind of best friend are you to not be as close as you believed?

Meghan wasn’t the youngest, the woman was sixty and this man looked to be in his late twenties. How could they blame you for your curiosity? 

“So how old is he?” You shift beside her, the swing rocking with every move. “He turned thirty in February. She hasn’t had a partner since I can remember, this is good for her.” Her words attempt to convince her more than you, emphasized by the harsh desperate slurping within the empty glass.

Your friend turned 25 in February too.

“Oh wow, so since he was a kid too?” You joke. It doesn’t land.

“Y/n!” She hits your arm, you laugh in return. “What?!” You whine through laughs, this time purposely rocking the swing. “Come on…” It aches like nails on a chalkboard if she thinks about it. Meghan is her mother, she could easily be Doyoung’s mother as well. She knew Doyoung's mother.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She sighs, hands and glass on her lap. “Yes, the age gap is insane but… they’re old enough.” Your friend frowns, another attempt to convince herself and failing miserably.

Raising your hands in defeat, she smiles, continuing her playful acts of harm. “Want a glass?” She offers, you decline, your mind stuck on the beautiful man standing roughly a few feet away from where you two sat. Your head struggles to not turn his way and gawk like you’ve done earlier. It's difficult, you'll find throughout these months.

You knew you shouldn’t be fawning the way you are. After all, he is now Meghan’s husband. Meghan who has treated you like her own child since Pre-K. But God, you couldn’t help admire the way sweat rolled down his face and the way he wiped it away with the back of his delicate hands. 

At this moment, you’re not too bitter about your summer plans being halted. Not when he’s noticed your covetous glances and sly grins. Perhaps that's what started it all. Your restraint, pulling him step by step to where you sat. Sweat adorning his face and forcing his hair to frame his beautiful features, glistening in this sun.

A tender smile to the public eye but a reciprocative grin to you, “Welcome girls.” He smiles, wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to pick you up from the airport.” He turns halfway to look at the movers entering the home. “Duty calls.”

He was cliche with his words, yet smooth enough to make your grin widen. Like a white collar in those vintage Hollywood movies. His voice, softer than imagined. He drew you in the same way you drew him. It was bound to happen.

Tina shook her head, a dismissive and polite smile. She covers her eyes from the sun which did not ambush either. Rather, it was a futile attempt to shield her emotions, easily projected onto her eyes. It’s not resentment she felt towards him. Discomfort and confusion for his decisions is.

Doyoung looks at you briefly, as if to say “I suppose we are not there yet?”, answered by your own polite smile. He dismissed it immediately, shaking his head with a slight chuckle which forced Tina to uncover her eyes, confused.

“Will you be a dear and get me a drink?” He asks when their eyes finally meet. If it means that he won’t read her any longer, Tina nods standing up. She’s out of the picture faster than he had asked without a care that Doyoung took her spot next to you. 

Doyoung smiles your way, his knee bumping into yours while he settles. You return the smile, looking at the contact. Your legs criss-crossed on the swing and his rocking you both. It’s silent besides the movers and Meghan’s music inside the home. Nevertheless, this feels comfortable, scarily so for a first-time meeting.

“I’m sorry for being the reason you two had to cancel your trip.” Doyoung leans over, elbows on his thighs. His back is on full display, wet shirt clinging to the wide muscles that force your lower lip in between your upper teeth.

Your eyes don’t unglue from him, chills running across your body for such a warm day. You sigh, following a streak and bead of sweat from his temple down to his neck. “It's fine, we didn't want to walk around for hours and see old buildings.” You reassure sarcastically, although the tone deadpans.

“No? But Italy is very beauteous. Meghan recounted, you two had been planning on it as an incentive to get through grad school. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience.”

Doyoung did not expect to be met with laughter. He was soft spoken, tender, genuinely sorrowful, and a welcoming host. Why must you laugh at him? He’s not too sure.

His quizzical look does not subside, “I was joking, Mr. Kim.” You giggle, wiping at your threatening tears. His eyebrows furrow, yet, folds his handkerchief to a clean corner, doing the task for you. He's so close. So comfortable with being this near to a complete stranger.

“You’re narrowly five years younger than I. Please don't call me that.” He defends petulantly, forgetting about what brought you both to this topic. It sounds insane and dumb to be called that as if he was his father or an old man, he was only thirty.

It is insane and so is marrying a woman who was his current age when he was born.

You hum a response, turning away from him with a slow nod. “Do you always talk like that?” Your voice lures him again, craning his head to look at you. “Like you’re a pretentious liberal arts professor.” It’s lighthearted and mocking at the same time. Your smile slowly forms and he mirrors it.

“My father is a professor. Not for the liberal arts though but perhaps it rubbed off.” “Perhaps.”

He laughs softly in light of your continuing mockery, “Y/n, correct? I fear I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Doyoung shifts in his spot, his body facing you. He extends his hand and you take it. His fingers are nimble and long, his palms clammy but soft, and his grasp is strong but delicate against your own. 

Your smile doesn’t falter, thumb caressing his knuckles, an act he replicates against your own. “Yes… beautiful house by the way. What do you do for a living?" You ask curiously, met by a scolding shriek when Tina and Meghan come out with glasses of lemonade, something you did not want. Lemonade and their interruption, it's interchangeable.

"Y/n those things are not asked!" Meghan scolds, handing Doyoung his glass. He laughs, shaking his head while taking a sip. You watch some of it slip from the corner of his lip. He is such an unfortunate person when it comes to liquids, it seems. Regardless, you wondered what it would be like to clean it off of him…

Someone cleanse you of these thoughts, this is forbidden grounds.

"Why not?" You ask confusedly, looking at the components inside the cup. Nothing but murky pulp-filled sweet water. Your emotions present on your face, perceived wrongly by the only man there who felt it was your response to being scolded. "It's completely fine to ask that now, don't worry." Meghan shoots him a look, irksome at the use of 'now'. She doesn't have to wonder what he meant, only in dissecting his tone.

"I'm an aerodynamicist. Right now we're working on finding a solution to reduce the consumption of fuel." His voice is a pitch higher, tossing that pretentious tone to his words, forgetting his drink while fully turning to everyone as he excitedly gets into the topic. "The main culprit —or so we think— is the wings… let's say the wings of an aircraft. Their shape to be specific contributes to th—" Before he could finish, Meghan hums interrupting. Her words later followed, "Yeah, yeah, sounds fun. Dinner is ready so it's best we stop the chit-chat if we want something warm to eat."

Both you and Tina turn to her mother, a quick glance full of judgment and some surprise. She's never interrupted any of you when passionately speaking about your interests, this was new. Tina doesn't dare look at Doyoung though, she simply walks back inside with her still full drink in hand. Meghan on the other hand waits for him to stand up and follow her. His shoulders slumped and head low, a reassuring smile thrown your way but his dull eyes say otherwise.

"We're glad to have you girls here." Doyoung utters with a nod, turning to follow his wife. "Welcome." The only thing that leaves Meghan's lips. At the time it sounded like that, a welcoming. Now you realize she was responding to the expected devout gratitude for taking you in all those years ago and even now.

What a way to introduce their relationship to you. What a way to cement the reality of the dynamics between all.

There was a foreign air after that fateful day, something you had never expected when it came to spending time with your best friend and her mother. This was stuffy and suffocating. You chopped it to the different location, you will soon find it's the repressed feelings of everyone in this house and of those that lived before.

Meghan tried her best to not show her unwillingness towards her husband, yet it was evident to all that she held animosity for some odd reason. No amount of smiles and reassuring pats could tell any of you otherwise but they satiated him and no one would interfere with that.

Doyoung was doting and sweet. He immersed in conversations to learn more about his guests and later rewarded them with things mentioned in passing. This was his way of showing his affection. It became paternal in a way that you didn't like and in a way that made Tina uncomfortable but which she could understand. Odd, extremely so, considering he could easily be her brother. If she was to voice her dilemmas, Doyoung would fully understand. Yet like you've told her before: "If you don't speak, God won't hear you."

To you, Doyoung was yet another guy that could have been in your college classes. He made sure to act like it when he finally got comfortable and that resulted in joking and lax conversations about his interests and yours, similar to the first day. Giggles and lingering touches, too close at times for two strangers. This way he felt young and correct again.

The downside came the following day, going back to that paternal and reserved front as if he was the same age as his wife and not what he portrayed with you. Treating you and Tina like kids and that's what you both loathed about his time with Meghan. She only seemed to suck the life out of him when night fell.

Doyoung pandered to her and was at her feet with anything she asked, yet she still patronized him and shut him down when he spoke of his career and parents. Meghan never outright spoke of it but she loathed when he brought up his parents. She hated the house, the basement, the attic, the garden, and the greenhouse. She hated that damn greenhouse more than anything.

You couldn't understand where her feelings stood. She had a family, a complete family. A loving and providing husband, a daughter that would always be there for her, and an established and stable home that was all hers for the time being. What more could she ask for?

Despite Meghan's and Tina's inability to feel at home, you found yourself to fit right in in every groove.

Your bare feet are met with soft dewy kisses from the garden's grass as you sprint inside the house towards Doyoung's study. Leaving a trail of dew on the wooden floorboards. Meghan observes you from the kitchen island, pursed lips and raised glasses as you turn the corner and to the hall where those dark panel mahogany double doors greet you, brightening with every knock.

It takes three rhythmic knocks for him to know it's you. Uttering a 'come in' with a light hum. Instinctively, you smile to yourself, hand turning the now golden door knob. Not feeling the grooves of mosaic crystal and cold copper makes you frown. So does the untouched silver tray of breakfast.

You step over it when making your way inside, closing the door behind you and leaning against the cold wood when he does not turn around. Sunlight peaks through the large glass stained bow windows, his desk perfectly curved to fit into the space. The decor on the windows are your favorite.

The greens and pinks perfectly project onto his skin, making him look diaphanous. The lilies and hummingbird paint a story of near-to-death flowers seeking ailment before they perish and like the knights they are, the hummingbirds come to their aid to bring them back to life. He explained it in the way his father had, revealing his mother to be the hummingbird and his father to be the lilies saved from the misery he was in. That explains the devout love his parents had, manifested all throughout the house and the one Doyoung sought.

He now finds the story to be the other way around with no happily ever after. There's no salvation this time.

When he finally turns, he greets you with a tired smile, shoulders slumped and neck aching. He slept on the chaise lounge. The uncomfortable and awfully warm upholstered leather chaise lounge that's too short for his height. He's been there the entire day after last night's argument with Meghan over her trying to clear out his mother's greenhouse and build a shed for her crafts room. She's not content with the basement and she is not content with him giving you your individual room.

"Found you some critters." You open, his smile widens when you pull out the worn paper bag he gave you to put them in. Walking towards him, he takes it from your hands, nimble fingers gracing your drying ones. "Found these stiff on the tomato pots." You point at the caterpillars. "This butterfly was stuck to the tree trunk. Is it acting or actually dead?" Doyoung lets out a sly hum. "No… it does seem like it's near death, though." taking the butterfly out of the bag.

He looks at it for a moment, noticing the lower wings are damaged but covered by the upper wings. "There… clipped." He gently moves the upper wings with the tweezers. "Rather dramatic if you ask me. She is fine to fly but a little caring should not be bad." He stands from his seat, knees cracking to indicate his lack of movement. He places her in the terrarium, it hops around seeking the flowers you've helped him pick.

It's silent for a moment, he hums a melody while scolding the butterfly as he feeds her sugar water. You sit on his desk chair, swiveling while drumming around the taxidermy scalpels — A few of these have left some scratches on your fingers. He makes sure to lock his items inside his desk drawers, Meghan has explained her disdain and disgust for his hobby and in fear of her digging through and tossing them like she's done with the taxidermy decor, he takes extra precautions.

"Why haven't you eaten?"

Your voice makes him turn, closing the door to the terrarium. He leans against the table, crossing his arms across his chest and taking a grasp of his jaw. Rubbing it as if he was thinking of an answer. He can't lie to you though, he knows you're able to see through his lies. At least surface level, it's the small things he grants you.

"I don't like omelettes. She knows that." He confesses. "I don't like black tea and that is what's on the tray." Your leg raises, feet now dry but stained with that yellow-green hue. Your cheek rests against your bruised knee while taking in his words. He watches all your actions, biting the inside of his cheek as punishment for looking at your limbs.

"Want me to make you anything?" There's some innocence in your voice that warms his chest. Interlaced with your desire to please. Please, please, please.

He smiles fondly, eyes fluttering, and a warm feeling in his chest.

"Don't coddle me." "Generosity."

He slowly approaches you, rearranging the scalpels you played with. He looks down, analyzing you like you were one of his dissected butterflies. Pretty, soft, and delicate. Doyoung knows it's wrong to think of you this way. He's allowed Meghan to fuck the thoughts away from him but they cling to his brain while they're at it. It's vile and disgusting. The act to be precise.

"Is she still upset about the room?" You look up at him, resting against the backrest. He takes a closer look at your outfit. Denim high rise shorts, white lace short strap top, and red ribbon in your hair that he wrapped around the strands a while ago and you never got rid of. The same one he uses to decorate bigger taxidermy species like the squirrels the neighborhood cat leaves laying on the porch. You want to think it's metaphoric but you sound stupid trying to find a connection despite the words lingering in the tip of your tongue. Fresh and clear on his mind.

"I don't mind taking the attic, it's nice and cozy. Your dad did a good job decorating it." A reassuring smile that he does not accept. "What are you, Harry Potter? It's your room and it's my house." That first day during dinner, Doyoung expressed his gratitude to you for being part of their family. It did not pertain to him, he believed family deserved their own space.

His actions worked to ease and win Tina over even if it was a tad but Meghan felt a stabbing sense in her lower stomach and a scratch in her brain that made a whirling dark orb manifest. It's the same feeling that brews the longer she stands behind those mahogany doors hoping to hear what is said but the whispered mutters and her aged ear drums hand no aid.

Doyoung pulls his footstool, taking a seat before you. His hands trickle down to your foot, picking off the remaining blades that stain his own hands. He looks up at you when he reaches for a wipe, the green stains cling when the fabric graces the arch of your sole.

"It tickles." You state, he hums. Fingers press harder. "Better?" You nod. He looks at you during the ministration, putting your foot down delicately to do the same with the other. You watch his every move and he receives your gaze with a smile when he meets it. "My mom would do this when I would run around the garden. She hated when I left stains on the floors. Said they wouldn't come off but when I would go to sleep she painted over the footprints and re-stain the floor." He smiles fondly, warming up your skin from the cold, damp wipe. His fond touch doing most of the job.

"It sounds like a prank that turned into preservation. Maybe she liked seeing your growth. Meghan marked our growth on the walls of her apartment. I'm sure the landlord has painted over them now."

He hums, taking in the comparison. It's cute, nice and nostalgic but it highlights the passage of time and how mortal things seem around you and the other two. How mortal things around him can be too.

Doyoung is doting and sweet. Soft and gentle, immersing himself in his actions to not hurt the other. You envy Meghan, you're sure of it now.

"You should really put shoes on, I can't keep cleaning your feet." "You have no obligation."

He looks at you the way Mary Magdalene did when washing Jesus' feet. He looks at you like his savior and redeemer, you're not sure why or you haven't been able to fully understand him yet.

He nods, his growing finger nails pinching below your toes. You wince, confusedly looking at him. "The critters will recognize your pattern and their missing friends. Don't cry when you're pinched," He playfully scolds the way his parents used to do; voice lowering upon seeing a shadow come from under the doors. "I won't be able to kiss the pain away." He raises your foot, the action new but comforting to your taste. His eyes don't tear away when his plush lips come in contact with your newly cleaned feet. It's soft, warm, sort of wet but nice enough for you to let your hand reach for where he touches.

This is wrong, plentiful wrong but Adam (Doyoung) will drag you to take a bite of that forbidden fruit if he keeps going.

Something ate away at Meghan the longer she stood behind those thick doors. The same way ants crawled around the food she had made him earlier. That made her aching worse and if she didn't open those doors now, she won't remain sane.

She takes a few breaths in, noise seizing to come through, making things far more unsettling. Decidedly, she pushes through, opening both doors dramatically, taking in the image of her husband and faux daughter. Her eyes waver as her voice wants to do. Impotence and defeat.

Nothing.

"Must you punish me?" She directly questions. Her eyes fleeting to your lax position on his chair, recognizing the ribbon from the decor she threw out and his proximity to you. "You can't knock?" He turns his attention back to his craft, as if he had not been kneeling before you seconds prior. "Rehydration solution, Y/n."

With a syringe, he injects it onto the body of the second butterfly while you wet a paper towel, taking a beaker of solution to the other side of the room. You don't speak, following the steps he's taught you in the process.

"It's my house." Meghan states. "It's my house." Doyoung corrects.

The older woman glares. If looks could kill, the house would be hers once and for all.

"The ants are eating your breakfast." "Oh good, they'll stay away from the peonies."

He smiles to himself, Meghan can't see it but she's sure of it and that irks her more. She turns to your moving figure, handing him a warmer solution to pour in the container and put the critters in. Taking in the interaction, her eye spasms. The green stains on his slacks and your clean feet. She has no proof nor a concrete case but she knows it was nothing decent. Disturbed by the bond, she swallows her huff but not the irking orb that eats away her love for you.

"Y/n, give us some alone time." She bites, her words laced with the venom of the centipede he's wrapping around stiff caterpillars. "We're not done with this." He tuts. Meghan, appalled by his opposition, allows her jaw to slack. Her emotions are rampant and fiery that he would contradict her. That he found it in himself to not slouch his shoulders and go along with her decisions.

Your gaze flits between them, their glaring not seizing. The tension is palpable, leading you to fumble the cloth holding onto the piping hot beaker. You know how hot glass can be but when you're the magnetic pull that's causing this, it's something you don't focus on.

Your shriek forces them to break their combat, that motherly look Meghan often had returns when she sees your irritated hand and the way you fall back onto his chair the moment the scalding solution splashes over your bare feet.

They rush towards you, watching their step over the broken pieces of glass. While Meghan attempts to question if you're okay, Doyoung is already in the process of rubbing Silvadene over the light burn of your palm. She watches in amazement how delicate he is. His fingers grace over the skin, if it wasn't stinging you'd repeat that it tickles. And if his wife wasn't here, he'd replicate the image of soothing your aching feet with kisses.

With every passing second, Meghan feels that obscure orb grow and grow. Her motherly instinct is consumed by it, disgusted queries plaguing her heart and soul seeing him sit on the foot stool and place your feet over his lap. This is how the stains on his slacks came to be. His nimble digits rubbing the ointment on noticeable ailments and on spots you pointed at with minute pained whimper that she'll take as pleasure.

This isn't right. Meghan no longer feels like a mother to you. And this is only one of many instances her feelings are reassured.

Doyoung didn’t want to argue any longer in the dark depths of his cold bedroom. It was amazing how quickly his marriage was falling apart in the span of a few weeks when the two shared a beautiful —so he’s forcing himself to think— relationship. Now all he can do is whisper his grievances to his wife who finds it disrespectful that he’s rebutting her own arguments due to his age.

Meghan will never say it out loud but she respects Doyoung less and expects him to treat her like his superior for said gap, forgetting they were in a relationship and should both treat each other accordingly and not like mother-son; disgustingly.

Said argument is what led a tired Doyoung to sigh heavily on his way out of the bedroom in hopes of relaxation by either watching something in the media room or basking in the night’s breeze while sitting on the porch swing with a glass of whiskey on the rocks or an ice cold beer.

The latter makes him smile fondly.

Decidedly, Doyoung pads towards the kitchen, his bare feet absorbing the coldness of the wooden floors, ignoring his scolding after you burnt your feet. The closer he got to the large room, the sound of his padding mellowed out compared to the rummaging of items. For a second he feared they'd gotten an infestation of mice. It would not be the first time the house had any.

His inquiries were disposed of once reaching the kitchen when he saw such a pretty image that made him relax. And similar to the mice he once fended against years ago with his father, you sat in front of the fridge, feasting, with a bottle of whipped cream at hand. Allowing the sweet dairy to fall upon a strawberry that you indelicately shoved into your mouth without a care that its juice spilled from the corner of your lips and the dairy followed behind, creating a light pink ribbon to decorate your pretty lips the way those glosses you often smear do.

It oddly reminds him of the first day you two met. He looks at you the same way you looked at him. Lingering and foreign attraction, although it's not so foreign now.

It's not right, but you're closer and closer to taking a bite out of that apple.

You don't bother cleaning the cream off, continuing to push the berries into your mouth. One after another as your stomach yearns for more. You could’ve continued, although halt at his endeared chuckle. You're startled, feeling a cold sweat wash through your entire body. If there was one thing you hated was people catching you eating late at night. More so when you're filling your aching body with self targeted disgust and sweets. Like a child, the one he treats you as when the other two are near but forgotten about when it's just you two.

This is what holds you back, the apple seems so rotten and further at times.

Doyoung doesn't speak, walking towards you with a napkin in hand, taken on his way. He crouches down to your level, making you break out of that frozen state. “I’m sorry…” you whisper, eyes following his, seeking any reaction. “For what?” He questions sweetly, hand cupping your jaw softly. Shooting you a quick glance and smile before continuing his ministration.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come down to eat in secrecy.” You swallow hard, a lump formed in your throat with his touch, unaware of when. “I know she doesn't like it but usually she comes up to tell me dinner was ready and…” You shrug, meek voice making his chest compress, he senses unwarranted guilt. As if it was your fault his wife kept using food as punishment.

Meghan had told him you were asleep, not that she didn't let you know dinner was ready and that disquiets him. His eyebrows furrow, other hand reaches your face, softly wiping the strawberry juice with his thumb. Licking it beforehand. Doyoung is closer and closer with every passing day. Just last night his touch lingered in between your thigh and knee, you imagine he'll reward you and slip his fingers between your lips soon. Whichever ones and you won't be opposed to it like prior times.

Doyoung gives you a semi-scolding look, “I've told you before. It's my house, you can eat whenever and whatever you want, Y/n." He pats your cheek, pecking it for reassurance. The action startles you every time. They never feel soft and innocent. Always intentional but when he pulls back and gives you a reassuring smile, it forces you to ponder how much you want his generosity to be more than that? It's wrong, you're aware of it, always will be.

His touch lingers a little longer, fleeting stares from your own eyes to lips as his pads waltz across your skin until he finally finds it in himself to let go. “Still hungry?” He asks, helping you up. Ready to deny, your stomach rumbles loudly, giving you no time to privy it of its rights for yet another day. Doyoung simply nods with a smile, cocking his head to the entrance.

“Put your shoes on, let's see what's open at this hour.” “It’s very late to eat a big meal, Mr.Kim…”

The smile on his lips attempts not to falter at what you call him. Doyoung hated it with his entire soul. You weren't going to seize as long as he didn't seize treating you like Tina, like you're his stepdaughter too. Although, in this instant it's punishment for making you feel so ill and needy.

You want more, you crave more, but you can't have more.

It's odd to you how both can easily bask in the delicacy of tense intimacy and this… disgusting forced idea of a familial relationship at times. Especially when they would intertwine like it is now. You hate him for it sometimes. 'Coward' is what bounces in your head often when his touch lingers just to treat you like he treats Tina when his sick brain tells him to.

Regardless, Doyoung doesn't get to respond or scold, his bedroom door slams and Meghan has reached the kitchen watching as he crouches over you. She sees the dirtied napkin and your red lips. She sees his hand ghosting over your cheek and the (bitter) smile he had falters when his eyes land on her. While with you it was full of fondness and amusement (she believes), disgust greets her. She's been aware of it for a while now.

"Y/n go to your room." She demands lowly, her hands clinging to her sleeping pants. "No." Doyoung interferes, and like that day in his study, Meghan glares at him, offended by his insistence on speaking back to her like a child disrespecting their elders. "Go to sleep." She grits out, turning to you. You stand up, keeping a distance from Doyoung who immediately speaks. "Go put your shoes on, let's go get you something to eat."

Meghan's lips fall ajar. A scoff and slight cackle hearing his words and the soft look he shoots you. "Are you fucking serious right now?" She asks infuriated, walking closer and slapping his hand off of your arm which aided in stabilizing you when getting up.

"She's hungry, Meghan." Doyoung spits back, disgust building in his gaze. His wife shoots him a response with hers, almost saying "That's not my concern." but the words don't leave her for she knows it will push things further. It's futile, Doyoung scowls and his head slowly shakes the longer he looks at her. There it is, that disgust once again and it eats away at her.

"You told me she was asleep. I didn't take you for someone gluttonous." Meghan could only describe the brewing feeling as embarrassment and pure seething rage. Who did Doyoung think he was to confront her like this? Implication full of disgust and hitting her where he knew it hurt. More so in front of the one causing all the problems. With your faux naivety and innocent looks. With that cunning smile you shoot her when around him. Meghan knows what you are, she knows what men like and she's experiencing it before her eyes. Men are weak.

If you were to peak inside her head and heart, that obscure growing orb was nothing but rotting tar.

"Don't be insolent. Don't bring that up in front of her!" She spits out, "Y/n go to your room!" Disturbed by being undermined by two people she deemed lesser than her. Doyoung attempts to stop you again, his grip a bit harsher than before. You look at where his hand is. This is familiar, revoltingly so. You feel like a child in the middle of their parents' argument. Getting pulled left and right until they tear you apart stitch by stitch. It's painful in all senses and when Meghan opens her mouth to yell at her husband, you screw your eyes, shaking your head and freeing yourself from his grasp.

"I'll go. I'll go… I'll go. Please." You repeat like a mantra, hoping your words will make it all end. The latter begging them to not include you, to leave you alone and forget that your existence is brewing something between them.

You always wonder how Tina is able to sleep through this and not wake up from their screaming. They no longer attempt to hide the potency of their vocal chords nor their words. You know they talk about you when the muffled voices take over or when Doyoung tells her to lower her voice while she laughs maliciously about how much of a vile, disgusting, and infelicitous asshole he is. Otherwise, you know their problems stem from their joint resentment about the power dynamics.

When two people want the same thing at the same time, things are bound to burn over.

Doyoung didn't take long to walk out after she called him those names again. Throwing in his face that he's a pretentious brat with nothing worth fighting for. Meghan has found going against his upbringing to be successful in debilitating him. The only downside is that he loathes her more and more and respects her as much as she does him. Very little to null.

Sleep fleets away. Fear floods you with the idea that Meghan was capable of barging into your room any second now and reproach you for ruining her marriage. She doesn't tell you directly and neither do the other two in the house but her demeanor change is more than clear. Her warm smiles are officially gone, cold and resentful glares replace them. And she no longer cares that they call her out for ignoring you.

Her hugs are foreign to you and her food no longer is edible. That love she once poured into her meals is gone with her motherly instincts. It aches, horribly so. You've known her and Tina since you began your academic career. When your parents couldn't pick you up or take you to school, Meghan was there. Summers were spent with them like this one with the exception that they were the happiest memories.

You have Tina, you know that. She's your sister. Although, you would prefer to not see her argue with her mother about you or see them give each other the cold shoulder after. You don't want her relationship with her mother to worsen, that's the last thing you want but you can't control what people feel. You're aware of that, Meghan isn't.

It's 1:00AM when sleep finally comes back to you and you feel safe enough. The comforter brings you the warmth you're lacking but isn't able to fill your chest. Soft lamentable sighs have left your lips all night over how horrid this summer has turned.

A part of you blames Doyoung. His addition has ruined the balance the three of you had. His cowardice of accepting Meghan's punches and seeking her motherly care during those years blinded him of the bigger picture — it's quite obvious now, confirmation is all you needed.

The other part of you accepts that Meghan is a decrepit insecure woman who seeks power and control of anyone that isn't her and that fills you with both anger and hurt, feeling no immense remorse for threading around Doyoung the way you do. You're allowed to indulge yourself from time to time.

Meghan wants puppets, not family.

Immersed in your pity and vexation, you don't notice when your bedroom window opens. The latch closing is what makes you turn around startled. A dark figure creeping through the shadows, tall and slim. Fright replaces the sleep you felt, manifested in an attempt to scream until your mouth is hastily covered with warm clammy hands that you instantly recognize by the bony nimble fingers. Doyoung.

A finger to his lips, shushes you, he sits on the corner of your bed. You swallow, your head spinning and light front the freight he just caused you. When you relax, you shake your head with a silent laugh. "You scared me," 'Asshole' silently balanced on your tongue. "For a second you made me believe Nosferatu was real." You joke, "But that would mean an old hag has been haunting me for ages, and I just met you." He pats your cheek almost condescendingly without saying sorry but meaning it. At least you think he's sorry.

"Here." He smiles — the most he does to entertain you—, handing you a bag you hadn't noticed earlier. That may explain the sweet smell of warm blueberries waltzing through the room to sedate you and make you more receptive to what he offers. "You didn't have to." You protest, he meets it with a shake of his head and raises a hand letting you know to just be quiet and take it. He does it with a smile on his face and it irritates you but it's also very beautiful that you oblige. "Thank you." You croon, a smile involuntarily creeping on your face. He responds to your words with a caress of your cheek.

"I've told you to not call me Mr. Kim before, haven't I?" His words slow down your movement, smile faltering. "Is that not your name?" You quip, giving him a quick glance while cutting the waffle into squares. It's warm and soft, as he is. Unfortunately if it's left in the open for too long, it will harden and rot. As he will.

There's some tenderness in his gaze, muddled with the same irascibility Meghan looks at him with when he talks back to subvert her. It makes your eyebrows furrow while you slowly chew, it's an odd feeling. Unfortunately for you, he's smart enough to read a person and divert the conversation. It so happens to be that he doesn't do it with Meghan anymore because he enjoys seeing her peeved and red.

He's become so cynical. The things marriage does to you.

"Regardless, please don't call me that, you make me feel old." "You are old." Your teasing makes him gasp, jaw slack with semi-offense before ruffling your hair, destroying the braid. You laugh at his actions, successfully forgetting his earlier look.

"I'm only five years older than you!" He whisper-yells, offense still imprinted onto his being. "Then don't treat me like you're much older." Spoken in between laughs, your words do settle in his mind. Doyoung knows this happens often, it disgusts him but at the same time it keeps him morally sane.

Yes, he touches you more than he should. But he balances it out by indulging your childish attributes that make you act bubbly and younger around him.

Yes, he looks at you with rapidly growing attraction and lust. But he balances it by teaching you step by step on how to maintain perfectly taxidermied insects the way paternal figures do.

He understands and feels that underlying disgust. It's self-punishment for thinking about you when he is married despite loathing the woman. His attraction to you is punishment for that alone.

He should still remain a good man. He is a good man.

Until he learns to enjoy the power trip. He can somewhat understand his wife for that.

Coward.

His smile begins to lose its intensity, nodding while getting comfortable on your bed. He's receptive when you feed him squares here and there, making sure to look directly in your eyes when he takes them into his mouth. Lips wrapping around the black plastic fork and lapping at the syrup hiding between the backside grooves just to watch you immediately replicate his actions. It's a soothing dance, ego indulgent to know you take what he gives.

"Listen," You feed him again. "I'm sorry for earlier." He covers his mouth, "For continuing to put you in those situations, truly sorry." His hand goes up to his chest, his wedding band is gone, causing a warm feeling to brew in your stomach, manifested as an involuntary smile on your lips.

You shrug, nonchalantly as if it didn't matter when you knew it did. "Not my first rodeo." You mutter, feeding him the last bit before placing the tray on the nightstand. He looks at you, taking in your reactions and the stuck sigh that you finally release when he doesn't prod.

You never spoke of your own family. It was always Meghan and Tina this, Meghan and Tina that. At the beginning he wondered if they would be preoccupied knowing you were here, meeting a stranger despite being in safe hands. Yet after a month he noticed the conflicting projected emotions on your face when he spoke about his parents and how loving to each other they've always been. He could tell admiration and resentment were bigger emotions you carried. Now it does not surprise him that you're saying this. More so, it's confirmation.

"How did you even meet her, by the way? I just can't think of a scenario where you'd meet a woman like Meghan."

Curiosity and petulance lace your voice. He smiles to himself, taking your hand into his, reassured he was taking the right steps when you reluctantly relax against his touch. "My mom grew up in a house with four brothers. She always felt the need to prove she was as important as them. You know, rough housing, sports, academics, that sort of thing." He shrugs, "Futile because my grandparents loved and supported her no matter what she did. There truly was no difference in their treatment of the five — very progressive, they were. Kind of holistic— she simply made that rivalry up in her head."

You'd ask what any of this had to do with your question, but Doyoung likes to speak, he likes to speak about his parents. Even if it was a simple redaction.

"So she spent her entire life doing things that would put her far away from those related to housewives. Never learned how to cook, clean, gardening was her only token but that's because she was a botanist. My dad did everything else." He laughs, fond memories of seeing his dad in frilly aprons and pink mittens. He chose them, all the decor was his pick. Doyoung only ever lets you use them when you're in the kitchen.

"This was ten years ago, I was visiting them from college for the summer when I found she had created a crafts room out of this room." His free hand points around the walls of your room, wallpaper in a quilt design explaining it all. "She said she was too old to not know basic things like mending a hole in dad's socks or helping him with dinner. That he was getting old and weak too, it was a job for two to get anything out of the oven."

He hums, gaze on your interlocked hands. "So I drove her daily to these classes at the community center. That's when I first met Meghan, she was there to teach the classes. Nothing went past pleasantries and my mom joking about how I'd look good with Tina."

Selfish you are for letting vile manifest and spread through your chest when hearing those words. Tina… Tina couldn't handle Doyoung. They can't even stand to be in a room together without it being awkward. So selfish of you to make this about yourself, squeezing his hand scolding. He takes it with humor, feigning not noticing for the sake of his ego.

"Of course my mom didn't know Tina's age, when she realized how much younger she was, she stopped the jokes. They became somewhat friends, never seeing each other outside the community center to my knowledge. I didn't see Meghan for years after that but three years ago when my mom's Alzheimer's worsened and she had forgotten the difference between toxic versus non toxic liquids, she ended up poisoning herself by drinking insecticide. Later we found cleaning supplies with her lipstick on the mouth. It's at the funeral that I saw Meghan again and she was there for my dad and I…"

You didn't imagine this would take that turn. He always spoke so fondly of his parents like they were still around somewhere. Never said where but still around. You now realize it's their lingering presence around everything here.

"I'm sorry, Doyoung…" He dismisses you, shaking his head and kissing your hand. He's trying to control his labored breathing, warm and harsh against your skin, his hand clammy.

"Dad felt so guilty for it all. He taught about the development of the human brain, did neuroscience studies for the university and certain labs here and there all his life and he couldn't save his own wife. So… he left me too. He left for a study, who knows where and I haven't heard from him since." He smiles, a sort of bitterness that he didn't want to have for his father. Reluctance to accept that it was perhaps more than a trip. "Lawyers came days after he left, everything left to my name on both their ends. Meghan had been the only one to check in on me besides extended family but they live far away, there's not much they could do."

Guilt floods you. Why couldn't you just push back that desire to belittle Meghan more in your mind. The worst part is that your brain won't stop telling you that she only took advantage of his vulnerability. Sweet, vulnerable Doyoung who lost his parents in a span of weeks left to rot on his own with a huge house, assets, and a desire to give and give to anyone willing to comfort him. Convenient.

Doyoung hums, sitting up. The silence helps him admire you, or simply distract himself from this gushing open wound. The braid he destroyed, cascading over your shoulder. Shoulder covered in a thick light yellow lace strap with matching ribbons on the chest. He smiles noticing the small details, he recalls helping you sneak into Meghan's craft room to make that night gown. Fabric and ribbon he took from his mother's stash.

She would like you, he believes so.

"You've made good use of the marigold dye." Doyoung smiles, his hand reaching to touch the strap. His fingers dance over it, letting them touch your skin. It's cruel and mean but very elating. He's been playing this teasing game and unfortunately, it's you who wants it more. From then on, they inch closer to the ribbon. Fingers jumping on every spot and ending on the bow, delicately admiring it.

Truth be told he kept his touch there to feel the increase of your respiration. Chest moving up and down faster than previously. He smiles to himself, almost mischievously when he notices a new item around your neck. "The roses too… my mother would have been so content with you." He giggles, patting your cheek prior to giving himself the liberty to touch the rose beads that form a necklace.

She would like you, he's sure of it.

"Very ingenious, so good." Doyoung hums, his hand trails to hold your neck. You nod slowly, entranced in your humiliating arousal from just his touch. You feel pubescent, frothing at the mouth from one touch. Stupid. He's just another man… a man that coddles and holds you in secrecy. It's the forbidden excitement laced with guilt at how treacherous the human mind and body can be.

Clearing your throat, you look around, avoiding his gaze. "Yes, well, she has a lovely and fruitful garden… Greenhouse too, I found some purple cabbages from the spring season, they'd make a lovely dye." You divert but his touch doesn't fall, his other hand opts to join on your cheek, cradling it.

Instinctively you lean into it, forcing you to look at him. There's no teasing or patronizing looks on his end and you're thankful for it. It's full blown admiration and desire in those dark orbs that pull you closer to him while he caresses you. They allow themselves to rake your face. Every feature but most of all your lips and eyes, longing to land on your pupils as to bless whatever you see. On your forehead to reassure that he is your safe haven as you are becoming his. It oddly reminds you of the looks he gave when cleaning your feet before the accident. Like Mary Magdalene admiring her savior.

Doyoung thinks he is allowed this indulgence for once. He can punish himself after but he can no longer go without tasting your skin on his lips, he feels so famished. Letting out a shaky breath, he softly rises, bringing your head closer to him. Breath labored with every move and warm against your skin when he's mere centimeters from it. Shutting his eyes and pursing his lips, letting them fall on your eyelids.

Velvet and moist, that's how his lips feel. You sigh in relief, unaware you had been holding your breath. His lip travels to the other eyelid, it's quick unlike prior, for he rushes to kiss your forehead, lingering for as long as he can before letting out a content sigh of his own, and a liberated smile. He wants to laugh at how absurd he is being but that would only keep wasting time.

Doyoung is so close to your lips when he decides it is best to take the full risk, however you both hear the soft knocks against your door and the rattling of the doorknob. He can't describe the feeling as freight, more so irreverent wrath.

"Y/n? Y/n why is the door locked?"

Tina.

The man instantly pulls away. His touch burns you both and guilt manifests itself through blown out pupils — your own, not his. Your lips are ajar when he places his finger up to his own, like the way he entered your room and disappears the same way. He says nothing and neither do you, opening the door when he's not in view.

The doorknob continues to rattle until she feels the weight of your hand on it. You sigh heavily before opening the door, looking at her blankly which she notices but does not mention. She never does.

"I heard voices." "I'm watching a movie."

She hums. She believes you. She believes you. She does…

"Why was the door locked?" She asks, concern on her face. When your eyes divert from hers, she can tell something had gone on. You usually enjoy having her know everything about you. That's what best friends do, yet at the moment you loathe her for it. That's what sisters do. That gnawing disturbance of frustration and impotency. The type she's felt this entire summer break.

You simply hum, she giggles.

"How bad was it now?" She now finds humor in knowing she always sleeps through their arguments. It's not so funny to you. "Nothing special, I was in the kitchen when he stormed out then she followed behind and they went at it after I left." She giggles once more. Unsure now if it's because she actually finds it comedic or she doesn't know how to respond.

This is her mother and her happiness they're talking about. This is you, her best friend and your friendship on the line.

It’s not like you can tell her that her stepfather defending you from her mom for the millionth time isn’t pushing her into deeper hatred. It’s not like you can tell her that her mother purposely starved you for the day out of pure unadulterated jealousy because her husband desires you more than her. No, can you? No. Silence and lies will do.

"Hey, did you know how Meghan and Doyoung met?" You ask, looking at where had laid. Tina shrugs, "She told me they saw each other at a coffee shop from time to time and talked since then. She doesn't like coffee though." She shrugs again.

Oh Tina. Willfully ignorant and avoidant. Perhaps the story is right but you're sure that if Tina fully knew her mother had met doyoung ten years younger with baby fat still on his cheeks and younger than she is, her dilemma would only worsen. Coward.

Unlike Tina, Meghan didn't hesitate in barging in after a few minutes. It leaves you and her daughter dumbfounded when the angry look becomes bewildered and disappointed, like she had expected to find something (or someone) to prove her suspicions.

"Mom?"

Meghan acknowledges it with a sigh, "Go to sleep, it's late." Making you both feel ten again at one of multiple sleepovers during school nights. Tina responds with a nod. You, you look at her for any trace of something. There's worry, that's for sure. And there's also anger. Nothing new.

The front door is slammed downstairs, causing Tina to get a startled look on her face that is reassured when Meghan shakes her head, dismissively. She opens her mouth to calm her daughter when a disgusting thought tells you to do the talking for her. She deserves even this bit.

"It's Doyoung, don't worry."

And it's disturbing to Meghan that you spoke her thoughts, word for word while looking at her.

Meghan has gotten her confirmation for the night.

That night had given some clarity to Doyoung. Arguments with his wife seized for the most part and before they could begin, he was out the door for his nightly runs. That's what she believed at least. He tampered with his smartwatch to mark his steps knowing she would look through it.

Reality is that he crept up the trellis to your room. Spending the nights under the covers with earphones in, door locked, lights off, and a movie lulling you to sleep while getting a few whispered conversations in here and there. His lips or yours pressed against each other's ear. It was the closest to kissing you would get at.

When you do fall asleep, he tucks you in. Caresses your hair and kisses your forehead goodnight before crawling back down the trellis and entering through the front door. To continue his reality of being married to a woman that no longer treats him with the care he sought but at least he can provide it for you and that you've slowly been returning.

Doyoung has taken that into account and rewards you for it. The gifts were small at first, snacks that Meghan wouldn't allow into the house, books in your wish list. They later became more intricate. Your personal taxidermy and diaphonization kits (locked in his study), pendants of the critters utilized, a camera to document your process, and the most recent being two chickens and doves.

The animals irked his wife more than anything. She has spent the past two months arguing about tearing down the greenhouse and it only took you a mention of the excess of caterpillars and worms in there for him to bring in the chickens. You looked after them, sure, however the chickens with free range left their eggs and droppings everywhere. It felt intentional how she found them laying on her clean laundry, pecked her if they saw her, and worse off stained all of her fabric. They abhor her as much as she does them.

At least the bleeding-heart doves are lovely to look at despite their cold shoulder towards her. Tina gets a ruffle of feathers, you and Doyoung some crooning, and spooning among each other when it's you and him peering upon them. It's the small things that drive her deeper into her madness.

Like seeing you sit criss-crossed on the plush bright grass. It's dewy again, much taller now than it was before but he promised to mow soon. Right now he's too busy hammering in old nails onto stained wood and footprints —yours and his— to create a coup for the chickens. Not by her demand, no. He'd never take hers seriously, but yours.

"Diaphonized insects are horrid. They're all brown. I think I should give wet species a chance." Doyoung takes your words in, a simple chuckle looking at your pout. Petulant and spoiled. "Y/n, you're not drying them fast enough." He corrects, you shrug knowing he may be right but working with insects has bored you. "Either way, centipedes and spiders look disgusting in those vials."

The chickens flock around you, pecking the ground. Their clucking became louder, frustrated the longer they weren't able to obtain what they wanted. Doyoung gives them a quick glance, a fastidious kind of melody, one he isn't used to. Neither are you according to the stink eye you give them. It's pleasant to Meghan, leaning against the sink with peering bright eyes, it feels like justice for once.

It's a delicacy. Your desperate attempts to calm them down, Doyoung's hammering exasperating the chickens, and finally… A loud and pained screech from you, pushing away the hen that victoriously clucks as it swallows the culprit of your scream. One of the neighbor's centipedes.

Doyoung drops his tools, rushing to your aid. He watches you tumble, attempting to stand, however the aching sting and burn on your foot doesn't allow it. Meghan watches every movement from you both. Your disgruntled whines and moans, his shushes in an attempt to calm you down. Hands clasping around your feet, soothing the inflamed bump in hopes it did something. It didn't, it irritated the wound further.

"I told you the critters would recognize your feet." He jokes, scolding in the process. The stinging is intense enough that waspishly, you huff, pouting his way. "Nuh-uh." You reply, rolling your eyes when he throws in a glare. He shakes his head, finally sitting, his knees aching. Like the day you burnt your feet, he takes your feet in his lap, looking over the wound while your soles leave stains again.

He smiles to himself, an airy laugh as if he was coming up with something, fingers waltzing over the bite. "I told you to put shoes on, I won't always be here to help you." Smile turns into a grin, teasing as he lets his lips fall over the wound.

It stings. The warmth of his own flesh against the boiling fire of yours, it's not pleasant and you make it known. With the exception that it comes out strangled and pleasured. Much to his delight, making his lips part, tongue gracing the area just to add more pain and more pretty sounds to leave you.

It's an erotic image to anyone who experiences and sees it. Meghan feels the boiling pain in her chest, the same way you do on your foot. The only difference is that Doyoung won't attempt to soothe hers. He won't even acknowledge it.

Doyoung is looking up at you with a curling smile, lips pulling apart from your skin, eyes raking the expanse of your exposed thigh when the dress rode up. " Met with a harsh pull, Meghan reaches both of you, hands on Doyoung who stumbles to stand up. It's hard to decipher what her expressions read, all emotions coursing through like a bad acid trip, colors roaming around in a slew.

Anger, disgust, pain, defeat, resentment. It made no difference, it was all negative.

"How do you plan on defending this now, huh?" She asks, wavering voice when she looks between you two. "What could you possibly say to make this look normal, Doyoung?!" Her voice rose, startling Tina who had been in the entertainment room when she heard your scream. Like usual, she opts to remain where she's at. It's no use involving herself when she's known how this would all end since the beginning.

"Sucking the venom out, Meghan. Fuck me, why do you have to make everything so salacious?" Doyoung grits, a tone she had not fallen for years ago.

His speech and tone has changed within these months. He no longer spoke like a poised character, he spoke like you. He smelt like you and his quirks adapted to yours. Doyoung was no longer Meghan's and that's a fact she's finding difficult to deal with. Similar to how parents aren't able to understand the autonomy of a child as they grow.

Frustratingly so, his response made sense to her. She's seen it in movies, she's read about it — so she thinks. Unfortunately for her, this was only a sting, like a mosquito or a bee sting, something that will subside with ointment just like your burns weeks prior. There was nothing to suck out nor was it recommended.

"How convenient." She scoffs. Meghan hated how upset she was. She knew this was bound to happen and why she kept her relationship hidden from you for the past two years.

Meghan knew your interests, knew your beliefs, and knew you her entire life. She knew how drawn everyone instantly is to you and woefully, she knew Doyoung would be one of those people too. She was proven right the first day when she saw him approach you on that swing and converse so easily. Touch you so easily…

It never got better as the days went by. Why was it so easy for him to cave and give you a room? A room meant for her hobbies. A room meant for hobbies, as his mother had wanted. Why did he allow you into his study without hesitance when she could only remain for five minutes or so? Why did he have to please you by offering dinner? It's been a while since he's taken her out to dinner. Yes, it was wrong of her to privy you of basic needs but earlier in the day she had seen you so content in that stupid greenhouse and understood fully why he kept refusing to tear it down besides grief. You kept it alive just like his mother did.

Her jealousy doesn't outweigh her disdain for being undermined. Like a person working night and day, loyal to one job for years on end and aging throughout them to be replaced like nothing by a new set of fresh meat. A kick to the rear and a big "Fuck you, you're no longer useful and too old for us to care about your opinion." That's how her relationship with Doyoung felt when he met you.

When they started dating, Doyoung sought her sweet reassuring words and pet names. Her gentle touches and pats when he did a good job. Her comforting food and the affection she gave Tina. It was pleasant, she knew what he wanted all along and she was more than willing to give it to him as long as he reciprocated her own desires. Surrendering control and devotion.

Those things no longer belonged to her. His devotion shifted to you —she's witnessed it on multiple accounts— and control is his again. That's one way of looking at things. He moves her and Tina into his home, doesn't let her make any changes and instead rubs it in her face that you adore the house and its quirks. His house and his quirks.

If everything reminded her already of his parents, it now reminds her of you too and how much more power ghosts and a child have rather than her.

Meghan scoffs and huffs every now and then while rebutting his arguments. He mimics them to show her how absurd she is being. It's a never ending cycle they've grown comfortable with but that needs to stop. This isn't what either signed up for when they legally bound their love. If you can even call it that, it's more than clear both were pitifully lonely and disturbed.

"Are you even hearing yourself, seriously?" Doyoung sighs, offended at the implications she kept throwing at him. His thoughts may be vile and depraved when it comes to you but he's punished himself enough. Meghan doesn't seem to understand that while he now recognizes he never did love her, rather sought the affection of a mother, he was bound to honor those vows.

But he was only a man and men are weak.

Meghan has double the years of experience he does and she knows that if you ever stop seeing her with those same eyes Doyoung once saw her with and which Tina is bound to by the universe's request, and gave him free reign, he'd take the opportunity without a thought.

"No, are you hearing yourself? Better yet, do you see what you do?!" She glares, "You enable her to do whatever she wants. Parade around my home as if it was hers. Make a mess of the floorboards, lock herself with you in that stupid study, for what? Your disgusting bugs? Really, Doyoung it's odd how much time you two spend together, you don't even spend that time with your own stepdaughter, neither of you have spent time with Tina. She’s supposed to be Tina’s best friend."

Doyoung felt his frontal lobe develop for the second time in his life. Stepdaughter… Fuck, he was only thirty with a twenty-five year old stepdaughter. Does anyone see how disturbing and odd this fucking is? No, he definitely cannot stay in this for much longer.

"And you know what? Jesus, you're acting like a fucking brat yourself." She scoffs. "The longer you spend with her, the more immature you become. Genuinely, what use was it for your parents to give if you're going to act like a child." She shrugs.

"Don't even bring my parents into this, fuck off." Doyoung disturbed glares at her. "Don't fucking do that. It only seems that way because you hate when anyone is better than you. Smarter and secure than you, get a grip, Meghan. Don’t forget that I’m closer to her age than yours. I’m allowed to be childish, remember that… Don't fucking bring them up ever again."

He was right but that's exactly what she hated most.

"Honestly Meghan," Dumbfounded, Doyoung sighs, hands rubbing upon his face exhausted. "You've known Y/n longer than me. If you don't plan on trusting me, at least trust her. What kind of mother are you if you can't offer her that?"

His tone quickly twisted into condescension, the sheer feeling of being talked down upon by someone who knows nothing about life irking her furthermore and the slight consideration that gnawed at the back of her head was ultimately consumed by that twisted rotten tar in her soul.

"Well she isn't my daughter is she?" Meghan spews without thinking. "She's not my fucking daughter. Not by blood, not metaphorically, nor by law. Tina is my daughter and you know what my daughter doesn't do? Throw herself at my shithead of a husband like any other hussy does!" Her hands meet with his shoulders multiple times, abrasive like every word. No regard that those words were loud and clear for you who remained on the grass and Tina in the entertainment room with the TV on full blast. No longer able to hide and ignore like she's done all along.

Doyoung doesn't mind the contact or the harsh words towards him. What he does mind is her rejection of motherhood. Yes, she's correct to an extent, however how harsh must one be to deny the impact their motherly doting has left on a young and impressionable child? He has fairly understood your restraint and guilt after each encounter is interlaced with your respect towards Meghan and now all he can think about is how that shattering reality will affect you.

Will affect him…

It's disgust and resentment that meets Meghan— she takes it with pride. It's empathy that meets you when he turns to face you. Seeing the instant heartache aflame in your eyes and through the cracks of your chest.

Pity is what you take it as. Disturbed by such, you stand up, the walk of shame towards that stupid greenhouse his wife detests so much. A soft shut is what makes him turn back to Meghan, disdain so palpable that Tina can feel it as she peers through the window. Relenting to the reality she's been trying to avoid these months. It's odd to be a background character in something that affects her directly. She knows there's more to come and when it's done, she'll have two options, only one right answer.

Her mother or her best friend… her sister.

Their words are muffled on the further end of the greenhouse. You imagine this is what Tina would hardly hear in her slumber and it was nice to an extent. You've always admired her discipline. You can't say you admire it now, many of those arguments could have been prevented if she spoke up about her discomfort towards her mother dating a man near her age, a man that sought the affection she was given. A grieving man.

Tina was disciplined but she was also a coward just the way Meghan wanted her to be. The way Meghan wanted all of you to be. Fearing yet adoring her. Devout like a disciple to their God.

Meghan was nowhere near a God. She was closer to a pathetic haggard with no accomplishments in life besides her daughter's, living vicariously through her. She attempted to do the same with Doyoung and it may have worked for a while. She soon realized that she couldn't do such a thing with someone that's always had more opportunities than she's had.

Doyoung had two loving parents his entire life. Just like you.

Regrettably, they weren't able to be near him as much as he would have liked them to be due to their career. Just like you.

However, they provided no matter what — even in the after life — and it showed throughout the house and the love he still holds for them. Their presence is felt in the grooves of doorknobs she replaces, the carvings on the wooden doors she plans on modernizing, the stained windows she'll break, the chips on the kitchen island she will fix, the garden with horrid flamboyant flowers that are eaten away by pests, and that ghastly greenhouse with plants that pretentiously have to mean something.

There's no grasp of control in a house that is meant to exude security, love, and reassurance. No grasp if she's not the one to plant that seed.

Fortunately for you, the house welcomed you in and now you don't care how much you rub it in her face. This was meant for you and if she thought of you as the complete opposite of what she's groomed you into, you'll let the entire world know that Doyoung and everything she wanted to obtain is yours by prophecy.

"How's your foot?" The soft voice that greets you nightly approaches you, his warm fingers taking your shoulder, spinning you around and forcing the pen in your hand to drop. The solemn look on your face and the exaggerated pout makes him sigh, your shrug forcing his touch away. "Better."

Doyoung nods as a response, approaching and taking you in a tight embrace to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that Meghan was nothing but bitter and defeated.

"I'm sorry…" He whispers against your hair, leaving kisses here and there. Your sigh, tightening his embrace. "It's not you who said it." You expel, burying your head in his chest the way your doves do. He kisses your head again, reward for such a sweet action.

"But it's my fault she did." "It doesn't matter now."

Doyoung peels away as much as he can without breaking the embrace. His eyes search yours for a hint of sadness, however all he can see is fiery anger and vindictiveness.

His hand takes your cheek, both warm and soft. "It does..." He hums, "You know it does." Eyebrows furrowed, concerned with how easily you've given it up. He knew you'd be upset but relent is not what he expected. No, he does not like this.

You pout, grip on his torso tightening to leave the feeling of your touch lingering for as long as it could. "It'll pass."

Doyoung truly didn't know how to fix this on his own, it's not his duty to do so either. Yet, the last thing he wanted was to see you upset over the words of someone so vile who did not deserve any strong emotion conveyed. Prior times he was able to pacify you with his gifts or embraces, nowadays it's been a bit harder.

"Will it?" "It has to. I'll have time to mourn later."

Mourn.

Doyoung thinks about the last time he allowed himself to mourn. He wonders if you'll follow in his footsteps and ignore it, falling in the embrace of a rancid older person who will only take advantage over the loss of a profound relationship. He doesn't want you to do that, you should seek comfort in the arms of someone who can oddly comprehend you despite the hierarchy being completely different.

It should be him.

Decidedly, Doyoung leans in, like that first night in your room. His lips don't linger above your features or your lips like last time. This time he dives in, taking your lips into his in a slow and tender kiss. You reciprocate it instantly, holding onto him for dear life, afraid to be tossed around once more.

Your lips part slightly, seeking air although inviting him further in. Doyoung moans into the kiss when your hands creep under his shirt, they're peculiarly cold for such a hot summer. Alluding to the death that floods you from Meghan's rejection. He can tell you're replaying her words over and over every time your kisses get hungrier. Tongue overlapping his and savoring him further. Fingernails raking his smooth pale back. He'd be glad to parade those pink streaks, it's the least he could do.

He wasn't far off. It's interesting how easy one can hate someone they've loved for so long. All you had in mind was punishing Meghan for what she just said. She's killed you. She's killed that little girl that looked up at her like a mother. Mother's are supposed to be nurturing and kind. But like she's said, she doesn't owe it to you. You're not her daughter, never were.

Cruel, cold, and a bitch she was. You could be that too, you've become aware of it with every cold shoulder and scowl from her. You'll be what she truly sees you as if that'll make her happy.

Men are weak, you've known this too. She's taught it to you. So why not start proving it with her husband? Giving him that chance everyone knew he awaits.

Your hands warm up the longer they roam around his torso, ripping the buttons off his shirt. He doesn't seem to care, not when it's a piece Meghan made him. "Will you make me feel better, Doie? Will you help me forget? I think we both need to forget?" You whisper against his lips, his labored breathing mixing with yours, chasing your lips as a response.

He whines like a pet being denied a treat, teased and laughed at. To satiate him, you peck his lips, nipping them and earning another whine, pleased this time. He nods fervently, his own hands grasping your body, making sure you're here with him.

Swollen lips leave open mouthed kisses along his jaw, trailing to his throat. Nipping softly at the taut skin. He hisses and gasps here and there but he never pushes you away. He takes what you give, just like you.

Thankful for such, it's time you take a bite of that apple, rotten and all.

Doyoung groans when he feels your teeth cling to his Adam's apple, fingers pressing into your own skin. His body is now cold, similar to how your hands were at the beginning, it's infectious but delicious. He needs more of whatever you give him. Greedy, greedy, greedy.

It's easy to read his mind, the way those eyes look at you, ten times more intense than before. Enough to push you into creating a trail down his torso, similar to the stream of sweat that clung to him that first day you met. This felt nice against his cold skin. The warmth of your mouth and delicacy of lust intermingled into making his groin harden. You notice the need, fingers clumsily toying with the belt buckle until it's gone.

You tease here and there, fingers clinging to the hem of his underwear, scratching above his pubic hair and making him hunch over, only stopped by the feeling of your forehead on his exposed torso, purposefully giggling to have your breath tickle his greedy skin.

"It tickles." He utters, looking down at you with blown pupils. You smile, looking up at him with wide eyes, pressing your knuckles into his skin. "Better?" You question, he grins and nods.

You use his shirt as a cushion underneath your knees, it's futile and barely aids but it's better than bare concrete. Seeing there was no use to taunt him any longer, your fingers crawl within his underwear, grasping the phallic in much need of attention. He hisses feeling your grasp, it's soft but firm, tugging him out brusquely on purpose. He liked that.

Doyoung pants, attempting to control his breathing. It's been so long since he's been touched, any time Meghan attempted he was flooded with disgust and self hatred, pushing her off when she aimed to at least kiss him. He could live with it, believing his sex drive had died before you came into the picture. But with you around the house and him 24/7, it was becoming very difficult to do anything about his increased sex drive.

"You're so hard… When's the last time you had any action?" You ask casually, hand rhythmically rocking against his shaft, thumb collecting any drop of pre-come to smear against him. He's reluctant and embarrassed to answer but your sweet smile is so convincing that he responds with a guttural moan.

"I see." You hum, kissing his tip as a reward, eliciting another moan. Masturbating in the shower was not enough. Sometimes Meghan tried to get in there with him and it would make him flaccid immediately. It seemed the only times he could ever relieve himself was in the comfort of his study. His favorite times when you and Tina took advantage of the pool and sun bathed with his research papers in hand. That excited him most, the image of you in a skimpy swimsuit in front of his window and reading his thoughts on a subject you couldn't care for as much but would take just because it was made by him. You took anything he gave you.

The memory alone made him twitch in your hand, a giggle leaving your pretty lips. Like this, he would get so much harder like this. "I get it, Doie. I won't stall any longer." You relent, leaning further to take him in your mouth. The damp and warm cavity force a moan out of his own, holding onto your hair as he throws his head back. Fuck, he's been craving this for so long.

Doyoung feels his ears ring. His own breathing along the squelching of your throat floods them. He thinks this is heaven, although he doubts an act like this would allow any of you in. Right, it wouldn't. Not after you both submit to the temptation of forbidden fruit. But it's better this way, what fun is there in being a garden when you can't have what makes you feel good? Even if it is a sin.

He relishes in the feeling of your mouth around him, head bobbing on its own despite your free hand giving him permission to push as much as he wants. Your tongue swirls around his cock, pressing firmly against the veins and dancing around the rest. It tickles, but he's sure you're aware. It is your favorite game after all.

He looks as pretty as the first day you met him. Beads of sweat rolling down his face, forcing his hair to frame and emphasize those pretty features of his. His ragged moans sound like those of an angel, pushing you further down his cock. It feels suffocating, he's not as girthy but he is long and it makes it much harder to push through. Even so, you want to be good for him, you've always wanted to be. This forces you to push through, gagging a few times but persevering until your nose hits his pubic bone.

Doyoung feels elated at this new found feeling. Your throat is so tight and warm, it feels like a reward for all he's endured. Sadly for him, it's torn apart, gifting him with an image of you teary eyed, gasping for air and a mixture of come and spit threading you both. He couldn't think he could get any more hard but this image alone makes him spurt pre-come onto your chin.

You give him a quick glance, smiling sweetly at him. "Close?" You ask, "You can come in my mouth, Doie." You utter, leaning in to take him in. He closes his eyes feeling your mouth around him again, dizzy and seeing stars. He feels the breeze enter from the windows of the greenhouse, whirling around you both. He finds that his body is no longer cold, it's scorching as yours.

Doyoung didn't think he could be so overstimulated before coming, it may be with the fact that he hasn't been touched for so long or how one of your hands clutches his into your hair, yanking to feel arousal from the sting. He swears can see a bead of your wetness roll down your leg when he looks down at you, cursing and bucking forward.

It hurts, you won't lie but that is exactly what made you keep taking him and pulling back out. The strain against your throat elating until he finally took it within himself to do as you wanted. His jutting forward with a harsh grasp on your hair, fucking your face and forcing you to gag while one of your hands plays with his testicles, only pushing him to go faster. Your other hand pushing aside your soiled panties and playing with your clit. It's a slick sticky mess, uncomfortable at best but the feeling alone does enough for you.

Doyoung mutters curses here and there. Pretty words too which you receive with moans that make him increase the pace. Both of his hands are on your hair when he finally feels himself spill in your mouth. His moan is so loud you wouldn't doubt that anyone outside of the greenhouse could hear him. You squeal, taken by surprise and also feeling yourself suffocate. Even when he's still inside of you, some of his come spills from the sides of your mouth, rushing out like water from a broken dam when he rips himself apart from you.

He feels out of it, trying to calm himself after such an intense orgasm as you are. Head thrown back, gasping for air without spilling any come still in your mouth. When you think you're stable enough, he helps you up. Kissing your soiled cheeks and licking his lips to savor himself. The image makes your pupils dilate. Taking himself in like it was melted ice cream, without a care. No one is as receptive to taste themselves but he was.

You hadn't come yet, and this image only made you want to reach that high more and more. Doyoung cluelessly smiles at you, appreciative of what you've done. It's wiped away when you take his face into your hands, kissing him. Instinctively, his lips part, allowing you to push his own cum into his mouth from yours. He's taken aback but weirdly aroused.

Narcissistic, egocentric, or whatever anyone wants to call it. It does not change the fact that Doyoung immediately hardens at the taste of himself mixed with the taste of your spit. The sweet tones of the lingering chocolate you two ate with the saltiness of his orgasm. Similar to a disgusting and corrupted salted caramel dark chocolate. It's not for everyone but it is meant for you two.

Hastily, he helps you up on the data table. Pulling down your wet panties and rubbing them along his hard and aching cock. He moans into the kiss, ragged and needy while he jerks himself off to increase the feeling. His tongue mingling with yours, swirling his come around both your mouths until it becomes warmer and lesser.

Fingers intertwined in your hair, tugging to hear more of you. Desire to hear more and more leads to shaking nimble fingers to trail the inside of your thighs. He smiles into the kiss feeling the scorching warmth within. Claiming and begging to be touched. He's no cruel man, not all the time at least, so he grants you this reward after all the ones you've given him.

Slowly, his ring and middle finger enter you easily with the slickness he's caused. The intrusion causes you to moan against his mouth this time, giving him the advantage to nip your tongue. It doesn't take Doyoung long to allow his fingers to move within you, pumping relentlessly to hear your pretty sounds. Guttural with the remaining come you two interchange.

You've always thought he had pretty fingers, since you met. Purposefully scraping yourself and staining your feet with grass to have him touch you. Nimble, long, and delicate enough to curl within your walls and cause a shiver down your spine. With the length, it doesn't take him long to reach your sweet spot. His pistoning motion and curl forcing cries and withering beneath him. Doyoung isn't as cruel or sadistic but this… he can understand why sadism exists.

Your legs don't seize to shake, a sheer layer of perspiration coating your body and face. He needs to let you finish, he just has to. It's not long until your body gives out, you need this or you'll probably pass out on this table alone.

But Doyoung allows himself to indulge that sadism he's contemplated for the past few minutes – enjoying his contradiction on cruelty. Halting his moves and ripping his hand away, taking the last drop of remaining come into his mouth to greet you with a cheshire grin as you look at him in surprise and betrayal. Every nerve in your body stings you left and right, punishing and taunting you for the lost glory.

"What the actual fuck?!" You gasp, looking at him, panting harshly with a body ready to explore from heat and desire.

He doesn't respond, letting the come and his spit trickle down to his glowing red cock, slacks and underwear pooled around his ankles. Now that his mouth is free, he chuckles. "Had to save some for lube." He shrugs, positioning himself between your legs. He kisses your cheek reassuringly, rubbing the come around him until he pushes within you. It feels different than his fingers and your mouth for the both of you. Surely, nothing will ever be as good as the actual thing.

Doyoung doesn't move just yet. Allowing you to get comfortable while he contemplates on whether you should leave the red gingham dress on. It's too pretty and he was there when you made it. Meghan had hated when you told her he allowed you to use his mother's machine and fabric. She hated that you were taking over her on her own craft.

Hm… yes, just for that he'll let you keep it on.

"Come on, Doie… Fuck me as hard as you can." You lean in, whispering against his ear, biting his earlobe. That was enough incentive for Doyoung to begin thrusting. It's slow but hard at first, setting the pace. It doesn't take long for him to quicken it, increasing your moans with it. You hold onto him tightly as he pounds into you. So deep into the pleasure of being full again that neither of you speak.

Legs pushed wide open against the table, his glute muscles flexing with every hard stroke. He kisses you here and there, licking away the beads of sweat from your neck like a starved animal in need of more.

The taste of your skin drives him insane, nipping and licking until he reaches your breasts. Pushing down the fabric of the dress to take one into his mouth. Engulfing it, harsh suction that leaves you wanting more. His teeth aren't as kind to your nipples but you don't mind as long as he is well fed. As long as you're able to please him.

"You feel so good, Y/n… I won't ever be able to get enough of you." He pants, thrusts hardening, hips swiveling to get closer to you, enough that his pubic bone creates friction against your needy clit. That intensifies the feeling that pushes you further into an orgasm. Doyoung feels it when you squeeze around him and moan his name like a mantra, pulling at his hair like he's done to yours.

"Please… I've been good. Please, let me come, Doie." You beg, implore. You couldn't handle it any longer. He's come once before, when this is finished, he'll have two orgasms. Yet all you have is aching, an overdue orgasm that will knock you out soon if you don't release it.

Pretending to ponder your prayer as he harshly pounds into you, lips consuming yours. Tongue gracing yours in search for a sliver of his come's taste still lingering within you. It's not as evident as before but he eventually finds it, smiling into the kiss and nodding.

"Let it go, baby." He croons, shushes leaving his lips as he keeps fucking you. His permission setting your body free that each thrust makes you feel so sensitive and it's not until he reverts back to those initial harsh and deep thrusts that you squeal and moan loudly. Clinging to his body for dear life while your legs spasm and come around him. The image sends him into his own orgasm. Feeling your body tremble against his while you cry out in pleasure from something he's caused. It's beautiful and if possible, he'd have you as the main piece with those pretty red ribbons you love so much on your hair, surrounded by his taxidermy as the main attraction because you're precious enough to preserve.

The thought peeves him but he won't dwell, not when you still feel so warm and good around his spent cock.

"Has she ever made you come this much?" You ask between giggles, looking at the pool of cum seeping into the wooden table and dripping onto the concrete floor. Doyoung groans remembering his reality. "No. I don't even touch her, why do you think there's so much?" He glowers, shaking his head in the process. "I don't want to think about her. Not now… with you so pretty and open for me." He grins, leaning in for a kiss.

You hum against his lips, wrapping your arms around him. "All this come for me?" You question sweetly, faking naivety, he nods, a light chuckle. "Only you have made me feel so alive and hot." He utters, burying his face in your chest, kissing your tits slowly.

A content sigh leaves you, eyelids fluttering, a malicious grin when you look forward.

There she is, five feet away with a dull and dead look on her face, Meghan.

"I bet." 

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[xjulixred45x]

Hi! Could I ask for some yandere headcanons for Adam's family and a human daughter reader? Please and thank you 💜

Alright!

Platonic!Yandere! Adam/Eve/Caín and Abel x Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Yandere content, Yandere behaviors, Platonic yandere, yandere behaviors, unhealty mindset, mentions of being an still born and it's consecuences, overprotection.

Adam

• I think that Adam's obsession with his daughter's safety would be affected if she had had a particularly complicated birth, after all, it was his third baby, it was supposed to be something easy after Abel and Cain, but that didn't stop the reader's life from being in danger multiple times.

• When the reader was finally born, she was small and fragile, she was born prematurely, and she needed constant care, something that her family was more than willing to provide.

• Adam is obviously the most overprotective with his first daughter, in general the world outside of Eden is very dangerous, he has to take care of all the members of his family. Obviously including the new acquisition.

• Since the reader was born, Adam had a certain favoritism, precisely because the little girl had a great resemblance to Eve, her eyes, her hair, her laugh, which also leads him to be more indulgent with her.

• Adam is against the idea of any of his children feeling left out, so he makes sure that Cain and Abel interact with Reader. Very carefully, though, after all, their sister is VERY fragile, get it?

• He enjoys the stage where Reader is a baby, being able to hold her, play with her, make her laugh with funny faces, in general he enjoys the time when Reader is a pure and innocent being, not knowing the cruelty of the outside world.

• Adam, as I said, is very overprotective of his daughter, more so as she grows and begins to learn things, like walking, how to talk, what she can and cannot eat, etc.

• Adam is always a few steps behind his daughter, just to make sure she is taking a “safe approach,” and there is no way to escape or sneak away, not with the divine reflection on his side.

• Adam is very patient with his children, especially when reader starts some kind of rebellious phase, he understands it, we all have a moment like that (after all, it's thanks to this that they were born), however, the primordial man will not let his daughter put herself in danger.

• For example, he will not let her go somewhere where the gods are. This may be the most rational of all, considering his past with them and the role they played in banishing Eve. That is something reader can understand and respect.

• What she cannot respect is that Adam even restricts her interactions with other humans! even scaring them so they don't talk to her! that is just unfair!

• Although we agree that talking to Adam about it is like talking to a wall, it is impossible to move. He believes that everyone is a potential enemy, that everyone can harm his family, especially his little girl.

• Adam is one of those Yandere parents who thinks their kids can do absolutely nothing wrong, no matter if the evidence is right in front of them (whether they try to run away, tell them they hate them or insult them, be a bad person, etc.). Nope, his babies are ANGELS.

• And even more importantly, he's the kind of Yandere parent you can never get rid of, no matter if you try to be more independent once you're in Valhalla, you'll never be too far from Daddy Adam. Good luck.

Eve

• Eve was the most affected by Reader's birth obviously, not only physically but mentally.

• She had never had a birth as painful as Reader's, not even with Cain, which definitely made her so exhausted when Reader was actually born, that she couldn't even hold her.

• A part of Eve was so scared that Reader would die, because the pain was so bad (and she didn't want to imagine if Reader was going through the same pain), praying to any god that would hear her not to let her baby die, being so relieved when she heard her cry for the first time.

• It was only a few days later that Eve was recovered enough to hold her daughter, it was the first time she saw a girl (she had already seen other babies with Abel and Cain, but this was totally different), and she was the most precious creature in the world.

• Eve is much less invasive, she is overprotective, yes, but she wants her daughter to grow up, she wants her beautiful offspring to become a full-fledged wild flower.

• For this reason, she is Reader's greatest ally when it comes to calming Adán's insecurities, she is the only person he will really listen to, who will pay attention to over his children. She can either distract him long enough for Reader and her siblings to sneak away or she can directly convince him to tone down some of his tendencies.

• That doesn't mean that Eve herself doesn't have unhealthy tendencies regarding her children, she just knows how to control herself better.

• She collects absolutely everything that children leave behind when they grow up, be it toys, clothes, probably even teeth when they start to fall out.

• She is also very dramatic when Reader gets sick, constantly bringing her homemade food and medicine, crying at her bedside, begging her not to die, to the point where Cain and Abel have to drag her out of the room.

• Eve is also somewhat possessive, she likes to spend a lot of time with Reader, and will automatically be bitter for the rest of the day if anyone (other than Adam or her sons) decides to interrupt said “quality” time between mother and daughter.

• She excuses this as “since Adam and the boys have the right to have boy time, they also deserve girl time” but it is just an excuse to have more time with her daughter just for herself.

• She loves to talk to Reader like she is a baby, generally spoiling her a lot, but she doesn’t realize much of the time that this can make her feel embarrassed or uncomfortable. Uncomfortable? From her family? Who put those ideas in her head?!?

• She is also very quick to make assumptions. As you can see…

• Fortunately, she is much more naive than Adam, so if you play your cards right, she can be your greatest ally when it comes to having your alone time or getting away from this crazy family for a while.

Caín and Abel

These two share a braincell i swear

• THESE TWO ARE THE EPITOME OF NOSY BROTHERS.

• But really.

• I feel like initially, they were both very excited to have a younger sister, having been just the two of them for quite a while, a new companion wouldn't hurt at all.

• However, when the time came and reader wasn't born, causing Eve great pain, the brothers started to get very scared. This was something new, and something they didn't like, their mother was suffering a lot. When was this going to stop?

• When reader was finally born and Eve was laid up for several days, both Abel and Cain acted like they were standing around eggshells, thinking that the baby would put them through great pain like it did with their mother.

• Fortunately, they were scolded by Adam for even thinking that, and he made Cain hold his sister for the first time (even if he was shaky).

• And you can imagine his surprise when he felt absolutely no pain, just something heavy and warm on his chest. Looking at him curiously.

• After verifying that the baby did not cause them any pain, it became a tug of war to see who was still holding her between the two, but at least the issue of rejection towards reader was resolved, perhaps too well.

• Cain and Abel tried in many ways to become reader's favorites while she was growing up, whether it was playing with her, bringing her nice things, but above all protecting her.

• They act very similar to their father in many ways, they are overprotective to an unhealthy degree, wanting to prevent reader from doing this or that, preventing her from stepping in puddles of mud or water because “she could get sick”, going so far as to accuse her to Adam if she did something “dangerous”.

• This created a love-hate relationship between the brothers and sister, on one hand Cain and Abel would do anything for her (except give her absolute freedom. Who needs that with a family that does everything for you? Silly), while the reader didn't see them any differently than an inmate sees his prison guard.

• Fortunately, just as they resemble their father, they also inherited several aspects from their mother.

• Both are very needy of the reader's approval, as I said before, they would do ANYTHING for her.

• If the reader uses words well, she can make them, involuntarily, help her escape more than once (or simply accept certain conditions like her having friends/partners), either by asking them for things or some objects, in exchange for being her “favorite brother”

• And they fall right into her trap. But that doesn't matter, even if they eventually realize that their sister is only using them for her own benefit, to do things that their father doesn't approve of and that distress their mother, they don't care.

• All that matters is that she is happy because of them, even if they receive some punishment, they are okay with it, they would endure it all over again, all to see their sister happy.

• If that's how things are, they will play along. For her.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[daughters-of-liberty]

I grew up very spoiled. Had everything I needed and wanted. Every toy, treat, article of clothing or makeup, video game. I had a tv in my bedroom growing up. I had TONS of books and dolls. I had everything a middle class girl could want...except for emotional assurance, stability, and safety. My parents weren't bad people, but they had their own issues that they didn't sort through yet, they were young, immature, emotionally disregulated, and needed more emotional assurance from me than they could give in return. My dad was a tough love kind of guy, my mom was emotionally dependent on me (like Lorelai Gilmore, but even more harebrained and SUUUPER overprotective), my maternal grandmother is a classic case of narcissism who shamed me for being skinny and found some way to ruin every birthday, and my paternal grandparents always fawned over my older half sister more than me. Said sister was 6 years older than me and as soon as she stopped being a kid and started being a teenager, I was an annoying kid sister that she had to force herself to play dolls with when she would've rather been watching anime or reading. We moved around a lot and I wasn't able to form lasting friendships. I was so, so lonely growing up. And everytime I tried to make people understand my hurt, which I didn't have words for, I was called selfish and told to be more empathetic to other people's points of view; "not everything revolves around you".

I was only spanked once as a kid, which just made me laugh cause it tickled (its possible my dad wasn't really going for it), and my mom only slapped me across the face once when I was a teenager and called her a bitch to her face when I wasn't allowed to swear yet (tbh, I kinda deserved that). I was barely grounded, and the few times I was, mom cut it short because she got lonely or felt guilty or something. I rarely got toys or games taken away after about age 7. After I started homeschooling, I was allowed to stay up and sleep in as late as I wanted. I didn't really have a diet. My parents didn't even make me bathe as often as I should have. I now recognize I had depression throughout my latter teenage years. Nobody listened to my interests. Nobody got me the gifts I really asked for, deciding for me what I would want for birthday or Christmas presents. In my teenage years, I was parentified made to help raise my cousin, sans money or even gratitude from my aunt and uncle. After he was born, all my birthdays suddenly revolved around him. Again, when I brought this up to anyone, it was "he's a baby, this is important to him, stop being selfish".

I could continue, but I've gone on long enough. So, was I abused? No. I wouldn't say so. Neglected? Emotionally, yes, I do believe I was. My parents "tried their best". But, hey, at least I had toys and video games, right?

this post hasn't left my mind since i've first saw it

[meraki-yao]

Poppy Playtime Chapter 4 Thoughts (Spoilers!)

Who stayed up till 1:30 am trembling in her blanket and continued to do so the whole morning for the new Poppy Playtime Chapter? Me!

So here are my thoughts and a few theories before the freshness washes off

(also disclaimer, I didn't actually play the game because I am by no means a gamer and way too much of a scaredy-cat to actually play it, this is based on the play-throughs I watched)

Thoughts

Monsters/Bosses:

Yarnaby:

Big kitty. Seriously though I feel like he's kind of standard for a poppy mid-level boss.

Pianosaurus:

Now some say that he was wasted but honestly I don't think so? All things considered I don't think he was hyped up all that much: he had one distorted image in the ARG and one jingle with not much actual information on the bigger-body. So truthfully speaking, I think the twist of having him be so quickly and suddenly destroyed by Doey was really successful, I for sure did not see it coming at all.

Nightmare Critters:

Okay as someone who really grew to love the smiling critters, the nightmare critters' very concept confused me. Like I don't dislike it, I'm just confused, like what is the in-game reason for their existence? I really think they wanted to reuse the mini-smiling critters concept from chapter three, but since the smiling critters in Chapter 4 are children refugees in Safe Haven, to make a distinction they created the nightmare critters. Defintiely annoying little pests though, which means they're fulfilling their purpose quite well.

The Doctor:

I was wondering if they were gonna re-use the weeping angels mechanism from Miss Delight because when I watched the trailer I couldn't think of anything else, but turns out they're traffic light systems but reverse: yellow means the minion is going to move, and red means it is moving. The VA acting is absolutely on point, so all the applause to Baldwin, but game play wise I... honestly feel it's a little underwhelming? It's all very confusing and a lot of brute forcing, and truthfully speaking to have this villain that was built up for so long, second to the prototype get destroy fairly quickly, felt... too easy for such a horrendous character. I still don't understand with what intention is he and prototype collaborating. I also feel like the stuff in the ARG about Sawyer's backstory didn't really pay off?

Doey:

OH GODS I CRIED SO MUCH I COULD WRITE A WHOLE POST ABOUT DOEY ALONE. I knew he was gonna be a twist/final boss in someway just because of how he was marketed, but oh my God, I wasn't prepared for how tragic this was. I think it is the oldest sister/eldest daughter in me, seeing Doey try so damn hard to be a leader to wayward children, trying so hard to manage and protect everyone, that's something I understand and sympathise with. The oldest part of him was only 15 when the hour of joy happened! The tape of him talking to himself, giving himself a reminder to keep holding on and protecting kids, God that broke my heart. I was sobbing and muttering "it's okay... you did great... you can rest now... you can go see your mommy and daddy and friends now" when he died.

I think the two facts that make this even more tragic is that the other completely sympathetic character, Dog Day (still my favourite best boi), bad things was inflicted on him. Even Dog Day as a boss, that wasn't his choice, he didn't have one. Doey on the other hand, it was self-inflicted: I can't say him going beserk was a choice per se, emotions are complicated, but he was the responsible one. This pain was self-inflicted, and unlike Dog Day, could have been avoided.

Which brings me to my second point: for Doey (so I have to emphasise, this is in NO WAY a comment on actual DID systems, and boy do I have thoughts on that), in one of the VHS tape, the scientist remarked that one of the kids that made him up: Kevin Barnes, was erratic and aggressive, and could pose a danger if included in the experiment. He ended up being included because Sawyer demanded it and "The Doctor's word is law". This means if Kevin wasn't included in Doey, if it was just Jack and Matthew, then Doey wouldn't have that insane breakdown. He would be sad, he would feel guilty, yes, but all of those are the average human emotions experienced in a situation like this, and it wouldn't have been so destructive. HE COULD HAVE SURVIVED. In his insane monster form, we can literally see the three kids in the monster's mouth, two of them frowning and one of them angry, the two sad kids trying to hold the mad one back. THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED.

Anyways, I love the guy. I'll be drawing and mourning him. Sleep well buddy, you can rest now.

Plot and Lore:

Riley made me cry so much too. God, what a kid, trying to help, even a single soul till the very, very end. Sleep well kiddo. You did so well, and you're with your mom and dad now.

Also the way she described being turnd into a bigger-body, I wanted to throw up. Props to the writers for doing such a good job on that.

Oh the excited shout I let out when I saw the tape with Bigger Bodies Hoppy! So we know that there are more Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters that survived past the experiments and the hour of joy. But then I remembered that Dog Day said he was the last of the smiling critters and got sad, whoever Hoppy is, at this point in the story, she's gone :(

The omni-hand confuses me storywise: it's just a keycard equivalent?

Kissy Missy!!!! (that's it, I just love her)

I called three things: Poppy being Elliot's daughter, Ollie being the prototype, and Huggy still being alive. Granted a lot of people called it too, these are just the theories I believed in that turned out to be true

THERE ARE SO MANY DEAD BODIES AND EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM WAS A CHILD BEFORE I WANT TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS THIS IS AWFUL

The player is shaking in idle. That is some details. Also this person is gonna be triple traumatised.

I don't think Poppy is evil per se, but I think she is very selfish and self-centred, in the sense that she believes that she is the one with all the answers. I wonder how much did Elliot Ludwig spoil her. Also, bitch, she ditched us again.

Theories and Questions

In the Hoppy VHS, she mentioned she got jumped while trying to get supplies: jumped by what and who?

What the hell is the deal with Stella Greyber's change of heart in joining the executives on the bigger-bodies initiatives? Her change of heart is so sudden and so illogical?

It's one thing for Poppy to believe in Ollie. But Doey knowing and believing in Ollie too? How many people did he fool?

Also given that Ollie is the prototype, was his "HE'S OUTSIDE" that led to Doey going out and leaving safe haven a distraction?

I think the prototype is also an amalgamation, and one of the identities is Elliot Ludwig. It's final speech to Poppy, telling her to "come home" sound pretty in line with an evil father figure, and my sister pointed out if you removed the "T", "Elliot" is an anagram for "Ollie".

What is the prototypes agenda at this point? It's willing to collaborate with the doctor, the very person that started all this hellfire. It doesn't care about the children's lives seeing as he bombed Safe Haven, killing everyone inside. It's whole "burn it all down" idea actually echoes Poppy's agenda, but Poppy sounds genuinely shocked and scared to learn that Ollie is the prototype. What the hell is going on?

Who is Kissy? The bigger-body Kissy Missy that's been our companion for the past two chapters. Game Theory had their theory that it was Patty Hall, but I'm... starting to think it was Stella? We don't know Kissy's experiment number, and I don't think we have any info on Stella's status during the hour of joy, so it's not impossible. It's just... their... attitudes, for a lack of better words, seem to align.

Leith Pierre is out there somewhere, we know he survived since he's in project playtime, but where the hell is he now? He is a bigger player in this scheme than he lets one. I don't believe he's not gonna make an appearance in the future.

What the hell is Rich's deal? So turns out he's one of the more likeable higher-ups? And he's the head of shipping? What is up with his change in attitude from moody aggressive guy to the dad friend/supervisor?

There's this one mystery from Chapter two that still hasn't been solved: there were slides with plates of each department's head's name and one was missing: we still don't know who that could be.

I truly think at the very least for this storyline, the next chapter is the last. The doctor was the second greatest villain and now he's dead. Additionally, we came into direct contact with the prototype, so from a storytelling perspective, the next chapter has to be the last stand. I don't believe this will be the end of the poppy playtime universe though.

Conclusion/Overall Comment on the Chapter:

I liked the chapter, but I think the problem is that unlike the previous chapters that felt like a constant overall upgrade, this one didn't feel like an improvement (but nor it did feel like a downgrade though). There are aspects of the chapter that definitely improved from that last: the graphics, the gameplay mechanics, the gore making people immediately physically uneasy, and characterisation of both major and minor characters, making us immediately love or hate them in a very short time. But the pacing really felt less enjoyable compared to the last chapter, same with the boss battles. It felt like it dragged too much then rushed too much. The pros and cons kinda cancel each other out, leadings to a net zero.

My favourite is still Chapter three, but I'll give this one a 7.5/10.

[sofreddie]

Resigned 13

Summary: Y/N gets to experience her first Supernatural convention.

Characters: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!F!Reader, Alpha!Jared, Others

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Omegas are second-class citizens/mistreated, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex, Knotting, Claiming, Minor Roleplay)

WC: 3,103

A/N: I'm so happy to see how far these characters have come and excited about the challenges they still get to face. I've never been to a convention, so I'm just going off what little I know, so bear with me on that. Feedback is appreciated. : )

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Part 12

Arriving at the convention was an experience all its own.

From the moment they neared the location, an exciting and electrifying energy filled the air. The convention was held in a large and beautiful hotel and convention hall facility, like the one where she worked. Upon seeing the building, Y/N waited for the flurry of bad memories, but instead, she found herself wistful about the job she once had and hopeful she might work something like it again. She had a knack for hotel management and really enjoyed it.

Since Jensen and Jared were being dropped at the front, doing fan service upon their arrival, Jensen arranged for security personnel to escort her through the back. She agreed, not ready to interact with strangers about her Alpha or her life with him. She also didn't want to interfere or ruin the convention energy, knowing how protective he could be and how important the conventions were to them.

Instead, she was escorted to her and Jensen's hotel suite. She busied herself with putting things away and setting up the room for their stay. While she wasn't attending any festivities from a fan's perspective, she could observe unseen from behind the scenes and still get the whole gamut of events and her Alpha in his element.

When Jensen entered the room, he couldn't help but grin. Y/N was swaying her hips to low-pitched music and humming, and her happy scent filled the room as she looked over her work.

"Someone's happy," Jensen teased, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck.

His scent enveloped her before his arms did, and she melted with a happy sigh into him.

"Ready for dinner?"

She turned in his arms and smiled nervously, "The Supernatural dinner with all the famous and sexy actors?" she teased.

Jensen chuckled, "We sometimes all get together for dinner on the first night. There are other significant others and mates, even some kids," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but you all know each other already."

"Some of them you met on set," he reassured, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to calm her nerves. Her stomach grumbled, and he laughed, kissing her hand before leading her to meet up for dinner. "We're like one big family. You'll love it, I promise."

Dinner was held in a private room in the back of an upscale hotel restaurant. She'd never dined somewhere so lovely and was more than surprised to see long tables and family-style service. It was loud, lively, and fun. He was right; it didn't take long for her to feel welcomed and at home. By the time dinner was over and they were saying their goodnights, she'd felt like one of the family.

As the weekend continued, her nervousness faded. The cast, the fans, the energy—everything had her head spinning in a good way. She was almost sad she had never attended a convention before. The energy was different when the convention was held at her former hotel. Providing the best service and keeping everything running smoothly felt more urgent. Now, she got to be someone who just enjoyed it, though she missed that former life the longer they were here.

She often found herself glancing at employees or studying maps and hallways, trying to guess who did what and what led where based on her former knowledge. It was a little game she played with herself, almost pretending she could still work and live that life. Regardless, she didn't let it detract from the truly memorable events around her.

Seeing the photo ops was interesting for her. People waited in long lines just to have several seconds with the guys. She laughed over the poses and props that fans brought, and her heart was warmed at some of the more emotional meetings. The panels and more intimate meets were just as fascinating as she learned more about the show, the fandom, and Jared and Jensen. These guys were more than just actors or pretty faces. To some, they were lifelines or connections to something bigger than themselves.

She understood that completely because she felt the same.

-

Jensen felt like he was on top of the world. In fact, he felt damn spoiled. He always enjoyed the conventions, mingling with fans, messing around with Jared and Misha and the others. It was always memorable, and he was excited to share it with Y/N. She took in everything with wide, sparkling eyes and a soft smile, her scent positive and light.

He had ulterior motives for Y/N outside of just enjoying the convention. He wanted the weekend to double as a date. They'd mated and dealt with much that came with it. But they hadn't taken any time to date and get to know each other, so he figured the convention weekend would be a good opportunity. And he hadn't been disappointed.

At Friday's dinner with the cast, she was initially shy. However, Jared and Gen easily introduced her to conversations and encouraged her to open up and talk more. Halfway through dinner, after having a few drinks, she was openly chatting with those around her, chiming in on conversations, and acting as though she belonged there. Jensen knew she did; she just needed the push. It was important to him that she realized she had friends and a whole network to lean on.

Someone mentioned how great the hotel was in accommodating them and the convention. That's when Y/N mentioned she worked in a similar hotel and how frenzied it was on the host and customer service side. The table listened in as she talked about the other side of things, the work, and the details involved in making everything go smoothly. Jensen was impressed, watching as she captivated the table and spoke confidently on a topic she truly understood and enjoyed. He finally felt like he was seeing the person she was, and he was falling all over again.

Saturday, he spent his time between convention events and sneaking little moments with Y/N. They would chat, snack, and enjoy each other's company, and he learned things about her that he didn't know before. She was quirky and a dork, which was great 'cause so was he. She was kind and well-spoken and managed to charm everyone around her even when she wasn't trying.

He also noticed her taking in details of the hotel and drifting off. He thought back to when they met—and her speech at dinner—and suddenly felt overwhelming guilt that she had lost everything because of him because she was his True Mate. He knew he'd talk about it with her later in the privacy of their suite.

Just the thought of being alone with her had him on edge and yearning. His rut had been gradually surfacing over the weekend. Though it had become more manageable since mating, he still wasn't quite back to a standard, predictable cycle. Neither was Y/N after the suppressants, but they were healing and getting to that point. He was confident that he could control his rut and not have feral issues like before.

Jensen was eager to have her to himself when they crashed into their hotel room late Saturday night. He was dragging - nearly carrying - her along with him while she giggled, the two of them far too drunk after the night's festivities.

Y/N had a lot of fun at the concert, letting herself go and openly swooning and practically catcalling Jensen while he performed. She might have been embarrassed, except she wasn't the only one doing such a thing. And she might have bristled at all the others giving her Alpha all that attention, but she was too focused on said man to really care about anything else.

They crashed and tumbled through the door, laughing and shushing each other at the late hour. They fell to the bed in tangled limbs, mouths fused in sloppy kisses. But a quick breath turned into both of them promptly passing out, still fully clothed, shoes on and feet hanging off the bed.

When Jensen woke the following day, his cell phone rang and buzzed like mad in his pocket, and a banging sounded in the distance. He wasn't sure if someone was actually banging or if his head was just throbbing from the hangover. Y/N was still out beside him, mouth wide and drooling, hair a mess. He smirked, brushing the mess of locks from her face and kissing her cheek. Groaning, he sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and lamenting the mild hangover.

It became apparent that the banging was actually knocking on the room door. He forced himself up and answered the door to find Jared upbeat and chipper. It grated his nerves, but when Jared hung up his phone and passed Jensen a fresh, strong coffee, all was forgiven.

"I'll be back in twenty," Jared smirked. "Get cleaned up, or we'll be late."

Jensen grumbled and nodded as he shut the door and got ready for the last day of the convention. He was bitter that he didn't get to have Y/N last night, and now, he wouldn't get to have her in the morning, either. There was always work to do. Taking a quick shower, he dressed and jotted a quick note to leave for Y/N. She didn't even stir as he kissed her cheek, only began to snore. Jensen laughed and calmed himself, knowing she was here, and after the contractual requirements, he could come back and satiate their needs without interruption.

-

By midday, Y/N stirred awake. She immediately recognized a hangover, clutching at her head with a groan. Her mouth was dry, and she felt rather gross. But then the memories of the night before flitted back to her mind, and she grinned. She had let loose, feeling comfortable enough to do so, and Jensen, too, relaxed. Together, they had a really fun night—almost like two people without a care in the world.

Forcing herself from the bed to the bathroom, she relieved herself and splashed water on her face. Going back to the suite, she noticed Jensen was gone. She grabbed her phone and realized the time before spotting the note left by Jensen. She giggled; she couldn't help it, loving how adorable and thoughtful he could be.

However, she was disappointed in herself for passing out when they returned and not waking before he left. She knew he was in a rut and would need her, but more than that, she had really wanted him, completely turned on after their exciting evening. She checked in with Jensen and apologized. He told her not to worry, to relax, to order room service, and to have a day in if she wanted, and she really did want that.

Jensen's enticing Alpha scent, more potent from his rut, reached her senses before she heard his key card in the door. She hadn't realized the time, but her body moved before she could even tell it to do so, meeting Jensen at the entrance as he closed the door behind him. She practically pounced on him, and he grinned, pressing her back into the door. He kissed along her neck and claim, taking deep lungfuls of her scent.

One hand squeezed her hip, and the other clutched her hair, tilting her head for him. He moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair, allowing him to scent her. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes, finding her pupils dilated, and her scent bloomed.

"This is just like our first time," Y/N smirked sultrily, not a hint of anger.

"I'm so sorry, 'Mega. Y/N," he whined, caressing her cheek and kissing her again. "That was never how I wanted it to go. I never wanted to hurt you or force you. My rut-"

"I know," she responded, placing a finger over his lips to stop his rambling. "So show me."

"What?"

"Show me, Alpha. Show me how that first time should have gone."

"A little roleplay, Omega?" Jensen smirked, pressing himself against her, letting her feel how much he needed her.

"Yes, Alpha. Please?"

Jensen captured her mouth with a groan, knowing he couldn't deny her anything when she begged him like that. He barely remembered that first time through the haze of his near-feral rut. She mainly had disassociated during the act, and the suppressants and blockers kept her from feeling and knowing their bond. Now, it was different. She was clear of any substance, and Jensen was in control of his rut, even if the cycle was still off. He picked her up, grinning when her legs wrapped around him.

He carried her toward the large bed in the room, their eyes locked. Stopping at the end, he playfully tossed her onto the mattress. She landed and bounced with a surprised squeal, followed by a giggle. Jensen tried not to laugh and stay 'in character,' hoping he could almost rewrite their first time in their minds.

"So strong," she purred as he climbed over her with a hungry gaze. "I can't believe Jensen Ackles is my Alpha," she swooned.

He couldn't stop laughing, then nipped at her collarbone, "Brat," he muttered. Rising, he gazed down at her in awe. "I've been waiting so long for you."

She wanted to kiss him passionately. Instead, he swiftly moved down her body, divesting her of her pants and underwear before she even realized what he was up to. All the best of his Alpha was on display for her. It made her heart flutter and her pussy throb. He stood at the end of the bed, taking off his clothes as he licked his lips and trailed his eyes over her body.

"Take that off," he growled, nodding towards her top as he stripped down to just his boxers.

She was quick to comply, and the second she was naked, he dove straight into her pussy, eating her out like a man starved, moaning at the flavor on his tongue. He continued until she was writhing, on edge, and begging him for more. He stopped just before she came, wanting to tease and draw it out. She gasped and whined as he kissed and bit his way up her body, making her moan and hiss and squirm. 

He paused to give special attention to her breasts, teasing, sucking, and licking until she nearly came from that alone. But as before, he stopped just shy of pushing her over that edge, making her whine in protest. He chuckled as he kissed his way to her neck, licking over her claim and rutting against her.

"Taste and smell so damn good," he groaned into her neck. "Wanna make you mine, Omega," he breathed, staring down at her and trying to maintain the roleplay, even though they were both too far gone to keep up the pretense. "Wanna knot and claim you."

"Alpha!" she moaned, rutting back against him and delighting in the teasing bite he gave to her neck. "Yes, Alpha! Please."

In the back of her mind, she knew this wasn't even close to how she reacted their first time. However, with everything out of her system, the connection was undeniable. Claimed as they were, dual-bound to one another, everything felt lit up in neon between them.

Jensen angled his hips and slid within her, harshly and without warning, her slick more than enough to ease his way. While Y/N moaned like a pornstar, he felt like he might cry, the feel of her and their connection nearly overwhelming.

"Feel fucking incredible," Jensen moaned as he moved, his thrusts harsh and deep. 

His rut drove him to be less gentle, but he already knew she could take it all and more. It didn't take long for her to come undone around him after all the build-up. Before she even came down, he withdrew and flipped her over. He lifted her hips and pressed her shoulders down into the mattress, thrusting inside and starting a rough and brutal pace. 

Y/N had abandoned all thoughts about roleplay, submitting entirely to her Alpha and the harsh but delicious way he was claiming her whole body. She knew she was moaning and shouting, screaming for her Alpha, and she couldn't care at all. The headboard cracked loudly against the wall, and Jensen was sure there'd be complaints, but he, too, didn't care one fucking bit.

She came again, her body tensing, before she gushed over his cock. "Fuck, always so good for me," he purred as he lay over her and hitched one leg up to open her further to him.

He slowed his pace, focusing on feeling how deep inside her he was. His knot was ready to pop, but he wanted to feel her come for him again. He found her clit, rubbing tight small circles over it as he continued his pace, kissing along her shoulders and neck as he encouraged her toward her last climax. As soon as she did, his knot popped, locking them together. He bit into his claim, renewing the mark. As her blood hit his tongue, he continued rutting his hips into her, riding out their highs.

Jensen carefully shifted them to their sides and spooned Y/N while they waited for his knot to go down. He focused on her claim, licking it clean and ensuring it was sealed and healed as before. 

"That was amazing," she turned her head to smile at him.

"I'm sorry it wasn't like that in the beginning."

"Don't," Y/N said, shaking her head. "You have to know I forgive you for everything. We wouldn't be who or where we are if anything were different. I love you completely with all of me."

Jensen knew it was the truth. He could feel it, knew it deep in his soul, and cherished every moment. "I love you, too. So much," he spoke, kissing her.

As she settled to sleep, Jensen pondered over the old fairytales and his parents' stories about True Mates. He was regaled by tales of the everlasting, soul-deep bonds and the romanticism of it all. But now, he finally understood for himself what it all meant and how it felt. He would do anything for Y/N. He was trying to change the world for her and loved her with every fiber of his being.

As he snuggled into her to sleep, he decided that fairytales were nothing compared to the real thing.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@leigh70

@laycblack

@kr804573

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN ACKLES:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@akshi8278

@mimaria420

RESIGNED:

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@sexyvixen7

@deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma

@muhahaha303

@deansimpalababy

@evilunicorns4minions

[addynosketchpad]

here's a list of my aus

Random Fire AU - A random fire scatters everyone. People die, people get hurt, people try to find their friends. Lightning struggles with survivor's guilt after watching both Marker and Fanny die in front of him, even as Bubble tells him it wasn't his fault. Black Hole kidnaps his friends. Blocky and Woody probably make out in a tent. Inspiration: A dirty eraser I found in my art box and decided to draw as Eraser BFDI.

Hallucination Cabin AU - A mysterious cabin in the woods. If you go in, you'll get lost in all the doors and hallways. When you do find the door, your friends will tell you that it's not so bad, you could stay here forever. The problem is that none of your friends actually came here with you. Inspiration: idk man. i just wanted angst i think

Rainbow Rocks AU - Death PACT Again takes the place of the Rainbooms in the Rainbow Rocks movie. The original Alliance takes the place of the Dazzlings. A few story bits get changed because Bubble would never try to feed on people's hate and arguments. Inspiration: My Little Pony Equestria Girls Rainbow Rocks

Friendship Games AU - Death PACT Again and are you okay FIGHT!!!! Meanwhile Pen is messing around with Black Hole's gravity power stuff and eventually turns into a weird human-singularity hybrid. And now Pie has to go stop him. Also features math. Inspiration: My Little Pony Equestria Girls Friendship Games

Bigender Eraser AU - Eraser is bigender. Eraser uses he/she pronouns. That's literally all it is. Nothing else changes. Inspiration: The "Give her here, Pencil!" argument

Villain AU - Tennis Ball gets himself stuck in a world where everyone he knows is a comic book villain. Fortunately Dynaslinger, Mischief Master, and the Puppeteer are willing to help him out! Also Roboty is the only normal guy Inspiration: i don't remember

Project SEKAI Imaginary Friendgroup AU - Fries plays guitar, Tree plays piano, Snowball plays drums, and Donut plays bass. They play music with either Hatsune Miku or just an Eraser hologram. Inspiration: Project SEKAI Colorful Stage Leo/need

Puffball Dies AU - Puffball dies in a car crash and Fries experiences heartbreak, grief, depression, and a lot of things that are supposed to happen to people you don't know. Inspiration: A drawing i made of Fries that said "i didn't know heartbreak was real"

Astrobio Swap AU - Black Hole is the smart guy with the simp-worthy voice, and Tree is the awkward guy who has nightmares about turning the planet into a jungle. Inspiration: swap aus in general

MLP AU - Everyone is a pony. i love pegasus balloon Inspiration: MY LITTLE PONY MOVIE

Fully Human AU - i don't think there's a main character but they all have normal names and eye/hair colors and also half of them go to school Inspiration: @/tarochimochi probably. and also the list of human names i made

Teenage Rocky AU - IT'S NOT A PHASE, BALLOONY!! THIS IS WHO I AM!! Inspiration: My friend saying "Teenage Rocky be like: BLEH."

Fankids AU - Fries and Puffball, Donut and Barf Bag, and Fanny and Tree get married and have kids (Wafers, Moldy Poptart, and Poison Ivy). Their kids all get along and like to do dinosaur excavations (digging holes). Wafers usually instructs the others on what to do. Inspiration: fankids in general

Murder Battle AU - BFDI but instead of challenges, everyone kills each other. Recovery centers are a huge part of it, of course. The trend continues through all the seasons. Eliminations are probably a lot nicer, ironically. Inspiration: @/wizwadry probably. and also just the idea of woody with an axe

Jinsei no Meiyaku! AU - If Death PACT Again were stereotypical anime characters. They fight the bad people who like to death. They also fight the Shi no Meiyaku. Which ACTUALLY means Death Pact. Inspiration: Anime stereotypes

Candy AU - Tree eats too much candy, turns pink, and starts a candy zombie outbreak. Inspiration: "yOs. my head just feels yuckAy and weird? but! i dOD fOind a time reversal ray!"

Pokémon League AU - 64 contestants compete in a Pokémon tournament. Spoiler: Roboty probably wins (Profily, Grassy and Rocky don't compete) Inspiration: Pokemon anime

Woodblock Marriage AU - Woody and Blocky are married and have a son who was probably created in a lab by Tennis Ball. Blocky is the fun dad and Woody is the eternally sleep-deprived dad. Inspiration: Drawing them with their kid…his name is Chunk because he is too large to be a splinter and too small to be a slab

Get Digging AU - Fries wakes up in a room with a dirt floor. Bomby, who kidnapped him, tells him to get digging, because the key to get out is probably underground. "Probably" does not mean 100%. He has been digging for months. Inspiration: I just wanted to see Fries suffer

Execution AU - Two is a psychopath and elimination means an execution and forever death. One, instead of being a scary kidnapper, might just be trying to save the contestants. Inspiration: Danganronpa probably

Nickel Hanahaki AU - Nickel is in love with Bomby. Bomby is not in love with Nickel. Nickel is vomiting flowers. He has days to live. Inspiration: Hanahaki in general i think

Stereotyped AU - Fries is a fat slob, Basketball is a jock, and Lightning lives off energy drinks. You probably get it. Inspiration: A BFDI wiki post about Saw, and also thinking about character impressions

Starworld AU - Black Hole is a dead star. Black Hole probably lived with other stars in a galaxy. Hey how cool would it be if there was a star parallel to every BFDI contestant. Inspiration: My cool and awesome Starry design

Snownutfrytreeraser AU - Snowball, Donut, Fries, Tree and Eraser are all boyfriends that's literally it. Inspiration: i don't even remember man

Struggles of a Rotten Tennis Ball AU - Tennis Ball yaoi addiction arc, minus the religious guilt (because it's just guilt overall) Inspiration: Confessions of a Rotten Girl which i have not listened to and don't plan to

Dreamcatcher AU - Black Hole watches/controls dreams. One night Fries wakes up as Black Hole is stepping into his nightmare, which leads to Fries getting dragged along as Black Hole's sidekick guy. His favorite dreams to watch are Bomby's. Inspiration: "what if Fries was forced to team up with Black Hole that would be funny" also Princess Luna

BEEP PACT AU - Death PACT is made of a bunch of fellas who wanted to prove themselves, and BEEP is made of a bunch of people Liy decided to force her help on. Inspiration: swap aus in general probably

the bad puffries au - Fries and Puffball are sadist x masochist instead of sadist x sadist. Inspiration: the idea of normal Fries beating up an alternate version of himself was really funny

gutted like a fish. AU - Blocky likes Woody. Woody rejects him. Woody thinks it's a good idea to follow Blocky into a dark alleyway. Woody is dead now and still trying to figure out if Blocky had any real feelings. No despair or heartbreak, just a lot of confusion. Inspiration: A post about shady guys asking for girls' numbers

one week AU - Woody wakes up in a very scary hotel he doesn't recognize. While he tries to find an exit, he ends up having to fight the mangled reanimated corpses of his friends/teammates. Inspiration: A post related to the Israel and Palestine conflict that disturbed me a lot

Pirate Puffries AU - Fries is a pirate, living his pirate life. Unfortunately he meets a nefarious siren and ends up liking her. Inspiration: i don't remember man

Gone and still forgotten AU - Have you ever seen me doodle Woody and Clock on the edges of drawings? Inspiration: DEAD FOR OVER A YEAR GANG RISE UP

[autistic-zukoao3]

IT'S MY TIME TO SHINE

My hometown used to be called Hog Heaven because well, it was heaven for hogs. There used to be a lot of prairie land that wild boars would live in. We had thousands of wild hogs. Fast forward ~100 years and now there are a lot more human and hog interactions due to housing being built farther and farther.

When I was a kid, everyone knew you stayed the fuck out of fields because that's where the hogs lived. At least, everyone local knew this. It was such common knowledge that nobody thought to make sure adults knew this.

I went to a day camp near one of the hog fields, but far enough away that we didn't have to worry about them. We could go outside and play without worry. It was, in terms of closeness to hogs, a perfect place for that building to be located. Employed at this day camp were, primarily, college students. Most of them either walked or biked to work. Now, remember earlier how I said the idea of warning adults about the hogs and their fields didn't really cross anyone's mind? Yeah.

Enter the scene, worker "Drew" (changing his name for anonymity). Drew was everyone's favourite at the camp since he was the nicest and most likely to play. Well, I shouldn't say everyone's favourite. Some kids were down bad for another worker.

Anyway.

So on this particular day, Drew decided that he wanted to take a shortcut to the building. A shortcut through... *tense silence* *tense silence* *tense silence* the field.

The Field had grass(?) that was roughly 6 feet tall. Picture a lion in a savanna, you know? That type of vibe. You couldn't really see for shit in the grass. The ground was also very uneven and full of gopher holes among other various rodent dens. The dirt was pretty loose too, a thick coating of top soil. The few times I walked through it (at that time the hogs had been forced out though) I had a very hard time walking without tripping every other step. So, that was the terrain that Drew put himself in.

Just like most of the others, Drew was a college student from out of state. (Apparently lived in Italy for a bit as a kid and fended off some robbers with a light saber once, but that's not relevant.) Being nonlocal, Drew was completely unaware of our hogs, and thought a shortcut through the field would be a great adventure.

He was wrong.

Drew reported that everything was fine at first. He was struggling a bit with all the holes, but that wasn't a big issue. Minutes passed as Drew stumbled along, careful to not step in any gopher homes. The birds chirped and the grass rustled softly in the summer breeze.

And then he heard it.

Loud, angry snorts. Then, the sound of something digging into dirt, like a bull preparing to charge. Drew was not about to fuck around and find out. He began to jog, only to hear the sound of thundering cloven feet behind him. Drew breaks into a dead sprint, adrenaline and instinct taking over as he deftly avoids holes, and keeps himself balanced on the loose silt underfoot. His heart hammers in his chest as whatever is giving chase lets out an ungodly, squealing scream. Drew runs ever faster, monkey brain having fully taken over at this point. Finally, he can just make out the street ahead, peeking through the breaks in the grass. Salvation is blessedly within sight. With a final pump of pure adrenaline, Drew breaks through the grass and into the road, not stopping until he reaches the other side. Once he does, he turns around to see a massive boar huffing at the edge of the grass, proud tusks on display.

Drew did not take the shortcut again.

Also he was very sweaty upon his arrival, and I've never seen a man look so haunted yet so full of energy.

not only are wild boars dangerous but farmers still keep having fatal and almost fatal encounters with domestic piggies. I’m a pig enthusiast. nobody really thinks about how dangerous they are. they have a reputation for eating human bodies for a reason. 700 pound incredibly stubborn and smart omnivorous animals with remarkably sharp teeth. usually they’re friends but when they’re foes, they’re terrible foes.

[burner141]

My favorite movie genre is 2000s childrens movies (the clique, sleepover, 16 wishes, geek charming) very much girl, very much cliché. So here's what character trope I think the 141 guys would fall into.

The most obvious one to me is Johnny being in a garage band. Black graphic tees, washed denim pants. Occasional crop top. Bad boy charm. All the older women swore that he was a loud nuisance in the neighborhood, but secretly swooned when he gave them that toothy grin. You're not so different from them, it seems. He tried to impress you with his drum solo (bc ofc he's a drummer), but you just commented on how sweaty he was. He tried to rub himself all over you, claiming his scent would keep all the other boys away. You told him how gross he was, but you gave a delighted squeal when he finally lifted you up in those muscled arms. Safe to say, bro was always trying to get you to watch him at practice. Surprisingly, one day, he took the mic from the lead singer and started singing his own song. Your awe was slowly overshadowed by confusion, then shock. The lyrics were incredibly explicit, and he hadn't broken eye contact with you for two minutes. No more band practice viewings from you...

Next is golden boy Gaz. He is the perfect son, friend, student, everything. He offers to help the younger neighborhood kids with homework and even offers to mow lawns. He chooses to mow your lawn for you on a particularly hot day, making a show of taking off his thin shirt and throwing it over his shoulder like a rag. Afterwards, as if there's no end to his stamina, he plays ball with the guys in the street, his every move perfect and precise - a parrot showing off his pretty feathers. When he lends a hand with taking in your groceries, your mom fawns over what a gentleman he is. You aren't so sure. Something about him is a little too perfect. Your suspicions only make him want to keep up his image more. If that's what it takes for you to pay attention to him, then he'll let you try and find a crack in his porcelain mask.

Now, Price, I'm not so sure how to fit him into this other than hot dad. Maybe he's a friend's dad or just the neighborhood dilf. He's just so nice to you, gentle with everybody, really. So, of course, you offered to babysit his kid. One day, you came up to his bedroom to offer him a small snack of sliced apples. You stopped dead in your tracks as you heard his gutteral laugh through the slight opening of the door. Uncharacteristically crass words flew out of his mouth as he laughed with a friend over the phone. You could't help but stand behind the bedroom door and indulge in every curse and innuendo that slipped out of his mouth. Once his call ended, you circled back to the stairs, grateful that the carpeted floor hid the sound of your footsteps. This was a secret you could keep. A side of him you'd personally heard. Not the other neighborhood ladies that pined for him, but you. Little did you know he could see you through the reflection of the window. Funny girl.

Ghost is... idk, some guy? Community pool lifeguard? Freelance mechanic? Weekend plumber? Nobody really knows what he does, but he somehow does it all. Local odd-jobber. He would most definitely do sumn strange for a piece of change. He comes over to fix your pipes, and you find yourself staring at him positioned under the sink. Is he... having trouble fitting under there? You reach out to ask if he needs help. He just grunts, pauses for a few seconds, then tells you to hold the flashlight over him so he can "see the bloody pipes." You can't tell if the encounter is more awkward or intriguing. Not often do you have a huge slab of muscle under you. Also, not often that you have to hold a flashlight at such an angle. You brain malfunctions for the next, um, 10 minutes? It could have been your determined focus with the flashlight or him bucking his hips upwards every now and then. You see him next week manning a lemonade stand.

[fandoms-in-law]

Not Billy

Summary: Lucas makes the kids realise that while everyone talks about King Steve as if he was the same kind of high school bully as Billy, he definitely hadn't been. It sparks a quest to figure out who he actually had been.

Author's note; Only reason I'm posting this now is I'm currently against WIPs and have a fanfic writing month planned for February and started this one a couple weeks ago. If you want chapters, find it on AO3 please cause tired brain is not up for fighting tumblr on that currently.

/\

Steve was not Billy.

Everyone seemed to think that was an insult since Hargrove came to town, but Steve could not agree. He’d seen close enough to Billy his entire life, sometimes in his father, often in Tommy. He wasn’t surprised the boy that had been his best friend latched onto Billy so strongly.

Steve was not Billy, but he could tell people thought he was.

The first time he felt like pointing out he wasn’t Billy was to the other boy directly, but somehow the words never fit together in his head during those moments. Though Steve also noticed Billy deliberately tried to keep their interactions like that, all words and no giving Steve a moment to reply before Billy left. He didn’t worry about it much, as long as he and Nancy knew he wasn’t, it should be fine.

Perhaps it was because of the king nickname, everyone who had it must have been exactly like the current owner of it, so of course Steve was like Billy. Sometimes he thought goldfish must have better memories than the average high school student.

After Tina’s party and the bullshit speech Steve wondered at Nancy’s own forgetfulness over what were his actions, their choices and the actions of someone completely different to him. He was just glad that everything in the speech had at least been between them but the views didn’t fit from how he’d been viewing their relationship.

Billy was not Steve.

Now that was an insult which Max said precisely once.

He treasured the entire rant she’d gone on that day, coming into Scoops to have a break from home while the rest of the Party were busy. Robin had laughed like he’d been the one insulted and Max tore into her too, about how Steve was never Billy. If anyone knew just what she meant to be an insult or to be a comparison Steve came out on top of it was Max about her step-brother and Steve and she wasn’t going to let anyone laugh for the wrong thing.

Sometime after the fire to cover up the Russians and Mindflayer fight, Robin admitted she understood now what that sentence meant.

/\

Steve was never Billy.

Everyone remembered Billy and the hate he pushed through the school. They forgot that Steve was not Billy though, and hated him for someone he never had been. That often felt especially true about Mike out of all the kids Steve looked after now.

“Just shut up Steve, go back to being a douche somewhere else.” He scathingly called when Steve had been reminding the kids not to get into fights.

“He’s not Billy, Mike.” Lucas countered, glaring at his friend. “Stop acting like everyone that’s ever played basketball besides me is the same.”

Mike gestured over at Steve, “That guy? The former King of the school? You really expect me to believe he wasn’t-”

“He Wasn’t!” Max cut him off. “He’s the one who stopped Billy first of all of us when I was dragged into Hawkins mess and that’s after I’d had months of hearing the actual assholes Billy hung out with declaring him more fun than Harrington. More fun because he hated anyone like Lucas, and joked about assaulting the Byers if Jonathan hadn’t proven better than Harrington already. Plus what was Steve just doing that you needed to insult him over? Looking out for kids that don’t fit in because he wants us to be safe? You really think he could ever have been as bad as Billy?”

At the start of the rant Lucas had looked like he’d say more to argue with Mike too, but now he just crossed his arms in a gesture they all knew was learnt from Steve, waiting for Mike’s reply.

Mike deflated, facing them. “So what was Steve like?” He asked. “Because he definitely changed and gave up his popularity instead of keeping it.”

The trio exchanged looks, and a glance back to where Steve was still sat in his car, looking from them to the arcade he’d dropped them off at curiously before reversing the car when he saw them watching.

/\

Steve was not Billy but the kids now wanted to know who he was when he was King.

“Robin? Who was Steve in school?” Max asked, leading Lucas and Mike into Family Video when she’d seen Steve leave on his break.

Robin didn’t look up from where she was returning some videos to the shelves. “He ate bagels in class and dropped crumbs all over the floor.”

“Okay but who was he?” Mike repeated the question as if it was a demand.

“The guy most girls had crushes on.” She quipped, looking over now as if wondering what the point of asking was, “Honestly even after you guys arrived he was the main crush once the new kid fever died down.”

Max huffed at her, folding her arms. “That’s not who he was. Who was he?”

“Not a clue. I was not popular and tried not to pay attention to them at all.” Robin narrowed her eyes at them all, somewhere between concerned and curious over their focus. “What’s with all the Steve questions?”

“We want to know. All we know is that he wasn’t as bad as Billy.” Lucas explained with a shrug, showing he was actually interested and not just following his girlfriend and friend on the quest for answers.

Robin leant back, looking them over before suggesting, “Try asking Nancy. She dated him while he was King of the school, right?”

/\

Steve knew people had forgotten he wasn’t Billy. The kids were not enjoying finding that out.

“Nancy, what was it like to date Steve?” Max had dragged Lucas upstairs while their friends were setting up a game night in the Wheelers basement

Looking through a crack in her door, Nancy rolled her eyes. “Max, it’s cute you have a crush, but you’re not meant to ask that when your boyfriend is next to you.”

Lucas leant forward to stop the door being shut on them, “Oh no, I’m curious about your answer too.”

“Not the kid I thought would ask me about that. Why?” Nancy narrowed her eyes, before turning away, clearly deciding to avoid asking him about a possible crush.

“No reason.” When trying to decide if they actually should ask Nancy, Mike had made it clear they shouldn’t mention why they were asking, “Who did you think would ask?”

“None of you.” With that the door was shut on them and neither kid was ready to keep bugging Nancy over it just yet.

/\

Will had heard from Jonathan about the fight with Steve, and the apology that turned into fighting the demogorgon. He knew Steve was never Billy.

“You want me to ask Nancy what it was like to date Steve so you can find out what Steve was like when he was king of the school?” He looked at his three friends dubiously, shaking his head when they remained serious in their request. “You’re making this more convoluted than the puzzles I tried to create for campaigns.”

“We need to know!” Mike insisted.

Deciding not to question that again he decided to say what had come up with Jonathan while they were in California one of the times talking about dealing with high school. “Brash, quick with the easy insults and overly aware of how people around him got insulted so the people latched onto him to be popular too wouldn’t turn against him. Quick to try and apologise too when he went too far but kept apologies private as too many being known about apparently damages popularity. That’s what Jonathan said anyway.”

“Jonathan!” Max, Lucas and Mike yelled together, looking between themselves before turning as if to hurry out the door just as they heard someone approaching.

The kids were going to learn who Steve Harrington used to be, somehow.

“What’s with the shouting? Everything okay?” Jonathan asked, leaning around the door.

“Tell us who Steve used to be!” Max insisted, tugging him through.

“Nancy said a couple of you had a crush on him but this doesn’t seem like that.” Jonathanblinked at them, and made an amused noise when Will made a gesture as if saying he had no clue, “I’ll tell you what I remember but why?”

“Because Max insists he’s never been like Billy but all I know is that he was king of the high school too and everyone says he was a bully.” Mike rushed to get the words out.

Jonathan nodded at the explanation, moving to sit on Will’s bed, “Nah, the bullies were the people clamouring to be his friend. Let’s see…”

/\

Dustin heard what his friends were saying about Steve and he was going to get the best answers he could.

Thankfully a lot of college kids were in Hawkins to help their families rebuild and he recognised one face from lots of photos Steve pretended he no longer had.

“You’re Tommy Hagan?” He asked, squinting at the boy cleaning a car outside the address he was sure was correct. He couldn’t remember ever having met Tommy before so wasn’t sure if this was or was not the right person.

Tommy looked him over, gesturing down the road. “And you’re a twerp I don’t know. Move on, I’m busy.”

Dustin shook his head, moving closer. “No. You’re going to tell me about Steve Harrington.”

“Don’t know him any more. We lost touch. Go away.” The words were accompanied with an eyeroll hidden mostly as he leant over the car to wash the windscreen.

“Then tell me who he was when you did know him.” Dustin pushed, certain that it would work sooner than later.

“Why would I?” Tommy huffed, still focusing mostly on washing the car. “You’re a brat that didn’t even introduce yourself before demanding my attention.”

“I could get my friends to come and ask you questions with me or you can just tell me. I’m Dustin Henderson and I will do that.” Dustin offered, dropping his backpack to get his radio out.

“You carry a walkie talkie to call your little friends with?” Tommy said disbelieving. “Why is a nerd asking about Steve?”

Dustin didn’t move to radio anyone, just watching Tommy again, “Tell me about him and then I’ll tell you.”

/\

Steve wasn’t Billy and Tommy knew it. That why he didn’t panic at the sight of his car pulling up while he was still being interrogated by the kid.

“Henderson, we’ve been looking for you all over. What are you doing?” Steve called, walking around the car and only realising who Dustin was with after getting closer, “Tommy?”

“Hey Harrington, the twerp has been asking all about you. Still don’t know why.” He explained, pointing a thumb back at the kid and trying to sound annoyed by it. It was actually one of the more amusing things to happen since getting back from college so he wasn’t being as much of a dick as he would once have been.

Steve nodded, standing with his hands on his hips and looking to the kid expectantly. “Dustin, care to share?”

“Mike and Max had an argument and realised all they know about who you were is that you aren’t Billy. Them, Lucas and now Will and me decided we need to know.”He pulled a notebook out of the backpack, flicking through it as if checking notes.

“So you looked through my stuff and decided to find Tommy.” Steve surmised.

“Clearly.” Dustin had no shame about admitting that and Tommy was curious over what Steve would have kept that showed them together. “Everyone else wasn’t getting anywhere. Jonathan was the one who had the best information that shared it and I know he barely knew you.”

“He really had friends to call to increase how many were asking me questions?” Tommy muttered rounding the car to wash the other side as well as better watch his old friend and the weird kid. “Steve your kid is weird.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve agreed, before focusing on Dustin again, “Who else had they asked?”

“Robin and Nancy. Robin knew barely anything and apparently Nancy decided they were asking because of crushes on you.” Dustin promptly replied.

“What? Why? How…” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know what, thank you Tommy for entertaining this shithead. I’ll stop him giving you any more of a headache. Please tell Carol to call if he tries asking her about me next.” He started pushing Dustin to his car while calling over his shoulder.

Tommy laughed at the comment, “You don’t think I’ve given him enough details to stop this?”

“With these brats I’m not sure there is such a thing unless the subject they’re asking about tries to kill them. See ya.” Steve sounded like an exhausted parent as he spoke, fond but frustrated by his kids.

“See you around Harrington.”

/\

Carol had scales in high school over how rumours and views of the popular kids went and she could tell you with facts and figures how Steve was better or worse than Billy Hargrove over all of them. She could not however explain two girls inviting themselves into her home to ask about him.

“This is breaking in and I’m calling the police.” Carol stated, immediately going to her phone.

“Tell Hopper to pick us up in twenty and you can tell us about Steve until then.” The girl with red hair demanded, “I’m Max. That’s Hopper’s daughter El.”

Carol raised an eyebrow, turning to them in challenge, “The chief has a daughter since when?”

“We’re asking the questions.” Max insisted.

“Since 1983. He gives me waffles.” El added, “Steve does too. You can tell us about Steve.”

The subject the girls were pushing didn’t seem enough to break into her home over but Carol couldn’t see any cause that would be; either way she leant against the door and shook her head. “Not currently. You could do better since I’ve not spoken to him in a few years.”

“High school Steve.” Max snapped, “Who was he?”

Thinking for a moment, Carol let out a heavy breath and turned to leave the room, “I’ll get the scales, if it will make you leave.”

While she was upstairs she heard Tommy calling, “Hey Carol, you left your door- Why are there two kids here?”

“To ask about Harrington apparently.” She yelled back.

“I’ll call him.” The certainty in that decision made her pause, moving back to the top of the stairs curiously.

“Why?”

“Just had the same thing happen and he interrupted the kid that found me. Said to tell you to call if that kid came here, but I guess any kid counts.” Tommy half shook his head before glancing behind him, “Names?”

Carol blinked twice, “They said they’re Max and El.”

“Thanks, what are you doing?” Tommy finished dialling the number neither of them would forget, but carried on chatting with Carol as if the kids weren’t watching them.

“Digging out the scales.” Tommy laughed at the comment, remembering when Carol had decided to make them and how she argued they were better than guys making similar scales because they weren’t frivilously given or constantly used to hurt.

As she finished finding the scales and gathered only the relevant ones to Steve together she could hear Tommy’s side of the call happening. “Hey Steve, sorry, but a Max and El are at Carol’s. Yes, that’s why. No, I don’t know that. Fine, see you soon.”

“Did you have to call him? He’s going to lecture us again.” Max complained, just as Carol started bringing things downstairs.

“Seems like you need that.” Carol remarked, debating if it was worth the annoyance of the chief to call the police on his daughter.

El had a stare that seemed to dissect Tommy when she directed it at him before asking, “You are Steve’s friend?”

“Sure, or I was once.” He agreed easily.

She nodded as if that explained everything. “Friends don’t lie. Of course he called.”

“Er, yeah,” Max frowned a little, glaring at Carol and Tommy’s scoffing, “We’re going to have to go over how things really are for most people at some point.”

“What’s this all over anyway?” Carol asked, placing the things she’d fetched on the coffee table.

Max went straight to looking through the folders. “Steve isn’t Billy but everyone seems to remember him acting just like him. I want to know who Steve was.”

Tommy laughed then, grabbing one folder right out of Max’s hand, “Came to the right place for facts then.”

“And to attack you.” She continued, vehemently glaring at him and snatching the folder back.

He took a step back, sharing a startled glance with Carol over the threat. “Um, what? Kid, I was Steve friend remember.”

“And Billy’s.” She countered, “You came round enough I know it.”

“Read this.” Carol quickly opened a folder and flicked through a notebook to shove it at Max, “Tommy shut up before she tries to. I won’t stop her.”

“Carol!” He protested.

/\

Eddie had known Steve wasn’t Billy.

He really wasn’t happy that the kids decided to learn who Steve actually used to be the weekend he’d finally got the courage to ask for a date.

“Am I TPK-ing the party or cancelling movie nights?” He yelled through the house, not caring that everyone that could be directed to were in the front room and easily seen, “Hi Perkins, I got out before Steve parked. He’ll be yelling to himself for a few minutes.”

“You can’t cancel movie nights!” Max yelled back.

“I can, Mayfield. You interrupted when I told all of you not to.” Eddie insisted, meeting her glare with one of his own. “Did you really worry about Steve’s lecture but not me?”

El stepped between them, “We want to know.”

“El, going behind someone’s back and doing your shit to track down their old friends is not how you learn this shit.” Eddie countered, eyes narrow and only turning to look over the room after finishing that sentence. They he burst out laughing at the scales Carol had out, “Although, Perkins, how did you make popularity nerdy? Is this an insult dictionary attached to it too? Professional Ice Queen turns people into maths. Not something I expected.”

Carol scoffed, tossing her hair back, “Why are you here, Freak?”

“Because we had a date and I decided not to leave El unsupervised. She’s reacted without thinking too many times.” Steve came in saying, grinning as he saw what was out, “Hey Carol, you kept all that stuff?”

“Yes, when did you figure out you could date guys too? There are bets that need settling.” She began, only to notice Eddie had somehow got the notebook detailing those bets in his hands now.

He glanced over at Steve shaking his head. “Don’t answer that. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Who?” Steve leant over his shoulder to see who would win if he answered truthfully, “Oh yeah, um who do we think does? Tommy, thoughts?”

“Any of the cheerleaders updated their bet to be within reason?” Tommy mused, looking the pair over, “Guessing since Munson is here you don’t want the basketball team to win.”

Eddie tapped a name in the book, “Robin is on the list, Steve.”

“She is? Bitch, when did she place that?” Steve burst out laughing and taking the notebook from Eddie, “And why hasn’t she mentioned it like ever?”

Carol took it from him almost immediately, “After the Halloween break-up and another band kid placed it for her. Apparently Buckley mentioned her guess when complaining about bagels or something and he thought getting her to win would get him a date.”

“Thanks Carol, so we’re saying she got it right.” Steve decided, nodding to Eddie and Tommy.

“How?” Tommy asked finally able to see when Robin’s bet was placed for. “Weren’t you working in the mall then?”

El and Max had moved to the door while the older teens had been distracted talking about the bet, “Hey Steve. We’re just going to go. Let you two head back to your date, stop asking these two our questions. That’s what you want right?”

“No movie night for two weeks like Eddie said-” He began.

Max was quick to protest, “He didn’t say two weeks!”

“But after that, Carol, Tommy, Eddie, Jonathan and I will recount the time of King Steve. Then you will all drop it.” Steve finished stating what would happen over their and Dustin’s meddling with his old friends. “Also what the hell did you say to Nancy? Dustin just said she wouldn’t tell you anything.”

“Asked what it was like to date you.” She admitted uncaring, “Thought that would be what she remembers most so she’d answer it.”

If Steve had been drinking something he would have choked but as it it is he just coughed once and pointed insistently at the girl, “Okay and after that, Max, you specifically need to get to know Nance cause that says you know barely anything about her currently.”

El started pulling Max out straight away, “Bye Steve. We’ll go see the Wheelers now.”

“El!” Max fought to remain and argue.

“Bye El, Don’t scream at her on the street Max!” Steve waved after his kids, before turning back to the conversation they’d begun, “Now yes, Robin’s bet is for when we worked at Scoops so her incessant teasing over striking out made me try flirting with some guy that came in and I found that was just as much fun and easier given how horrible that hat was.”

Carol raised an eyebrow at him, “And when is she meant to get her winnings?”

“That gathering to satisfy the shitheads curiosity.” He decided, “I’ll tell her it’s a bribe to not go off on a rant about bagels or you’ll tell the guy who placed a bet for her that she won.”

“Do I need to update the dictionary over that?” The question was asked while she picked up said book.

Steve pushed her hand back to the coffee table. “I really don’t want you to so am not going to explain it. And if she offers to, I’m telling that guy she won.”

“Harsh.” Tommy snickered.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Like I wouldn’t also be threatening him for being such a prick at the same time.”

“Kids have stopped, you’ve decided who won the Steve likes guys too bet, can we go back to our movie date at yours now?” Eddie asked, looking around the group.

Carol nodded, waving towards the door. “Yes do. Harrington, get out and take Munson with you.”

“Bye, I’ll call you both about when that evening’s happening.” Steve waved over his shoulder as he was tugged out of Carol’s house now.

Steve made one small error in letting the kids investigate how who he’d been early in high school differed from Billy Hargrove. He let Carol and Tommy get to his house early to talk with him Robin and Eddie. Now there was a whiteboard stood in his living room, giant paper hung over it and his four friends were dissecting not just who he’d been but who he was today.

None of them were actually being flattering at all, even if he could see the positive attributes getting written down.

[potatomountain]

We Will Never Die

Pairing: Rocker Hongjoong x fem!reader

Au: Friends to lovers, band au

Genre: fluff, a lil angst, suggestive

WC: 1.4k

Summary: You stood by your best friend's side all your life, building up his dream because you were always a part of it to him. You underestimated how much, ready to leave, just for him to remind you that what the two of you have will never die.

Warnings: 17+, suggestive, a lil toxicity and implied smut

AN: was gunna have smut but was struggling and this is for the @lapydiaries January event! "Garnet" so today was the last day to post. Anyways. Enjoy the brainrot of one Kim Hongjoong. Didn't turn out how I wanted but eh, I'll play out the rest in my head. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk!

Banners and dividers by Me. Blank blogs WILL be blocked!

Make a band with your best friend, they say. It’ll be nice, they say.

Wrong.

So very wrong.

For starters you weren’t the musical genius he was. Playing an instrument to a skill that wows the audience. He also had the charisma for it.

Kim Hongjoong, your childhood best friend, was born to be on stage. You… weren’t.

That didn’t mean his dreams of touring the world excluded you however. In fact every time he talked about it, you were a part of his speech. All throughout high school as he got better at the guitar and his voice charmed more than enough people, you fell more into his shadow.

Your self confidence plummeted at first, but Hongjoong did everything he could to change that. He made his band, and you were part of it. You were there at every practice, every rehearsal. You helped him with auditions, Hongjoong saying he didn’t want anyone you didn’t trust. By the end of your high school days, he had a decent band and you were their honorary member.

What you didn’t tell him was you had decided to go to school to learn how to manage. You wanted to help, learning all about the trade and what it takes to become successful outside of good music.

Hongjoong protected your self-esteem all throughout high school. He hyped you up when you felt down, reminded you he believed in you, and never once doubted your presence in his life. So you wanted to do everything you could to protect his dream.

That was fine and all until you were both in your mid twenties and Hongjoong and the group “Garnet” had a decent following. Just earlier this year they had a single that played on the radio, really taking off their career.

He was getting offers to sign with other labels, better management, and in your opinion they were damn good opportunities. But that wasn’t the only reason that had you regretting this all.

Chicks lover rocker guys after all. And he ate that up, dominating the hearts and cunts of all sorts of girls that came to his show.

You were the one who had to make sure the girls didn’t try anything afterwards.

Sure, out of the whole band, Hongjoong had his bed preoccupied the least, but it was still enough to get your heart hurting. As if you could pinpoint when you started pining over him like a man and not a friend.

They were all teases, all eight of them to an extent, and you weren’t no saint either, but you avoided their advances. At least until the other night. The drummer, Wooyoung, really did enjoy eating you out. Too bad his mouth was so loud he bragged to the others.

Now, for whatever reason, Hongjoong was mad at you.

He never said he was, but there were signs. The change in wardrobe, the offhanded comments, the way Wooyoung also seemed to be in his bad graces.

And his teasing. God his teasing. He wore tank tops, talked about getting more tattoos and then would point to more intimate places on his body. He even joked about getting your name. Seonghwa, who did their makeup, started giving Hongjoong heavier makeup, and now he had a new piercing on his brow.

The crowd loved it, signs that were definitely not kid friendly were at the venue this night. Girls in skimpy outfits, fishnets and leather skirts. His type, and they were all vying for his attention. And he gave it. He winked and flirted, flicking his tongue out, but now after every instance, he glanced to the side of the stage and right where you were standing.

He was flirting to tease you, as if saying he could fuck anyone he wanted, rubbing it in your face.

You weren’t sure when he became an asshole, but you were going to give him a piece of his mind.

The band of course stayed and had a drink or two after the show while you oversaw the equipment back to the bus. It was mid cross country tour and you were not going to let his antics screw it up. So once it was all settled and you knew the men were back at their hotels, you went right to his room and barged in, not caring if he had a woman with him.

Which, he did. “Get out.”

“But we were just starting to get to know each other.”

“Is she someone important?” The woman on his lap, who was shirtless, asked.

“Just my manager.” He drawled, staring at you with that same angry look you couldn’t decipher. “Can this wait.”

“No. It can’t.” Blood boiling with anger you clenched your fists at your side. “Either we talk now or I had your contract over to someone else and walk out.”

That got his attention, pushing the woman off and grabbing her shirt. “Scram.” He climbed off the bed and over to you as the woman left, seeming hesitant as he stopped before you. “You wouldn’t actually do that… would you?”

“Why the hell not? It’s not like you need me! You’re getting better label offers and contracts that could really take your career to new heights. You can get any fucking woman you want, a better manager, probably one that doesn’t sleep with the bandmates so why the hell should I stick around? Because we’re friends? Ha, is that why you have been rubbing it in my face all night?” You let your insecurities and anger boil over, tears pricking your eyes.

You just didn’t feel good enough for him. You let yourself believe if you worked hard enough and gave him his dream then you deserved to stand by his side. You deserved his love.

The realization you might have been in love with him all this time shook you, a few tears breaking free from your lashes while he could only stare.

“Rub it in your face? No! No that wasn’t-” With a groan he slapped his palm against his face, running it up to pull off the red and black striped hat he had worn for the show earlier. “I was trying to make you jealous.”

“What?” Frozen in place, you gawked at him. He was trying to make you jealous?

“Yeah.” He avoided your gaze, looking down. “The teasing wasn’t working and I wasn’t sure how else to get your attention. I was too scared to approach you about it-”

“About what? Kim fucking Hongjoong what are you getting at?” Despite the threat your voice was barely a whisper, hope lodged in your throat.

He blushed, he actually blushed, playing with the hat in his hands. It was very rare you saw Hongjoong as anything other than confident and sure of himself. “I was jealous you got intimate with Wooyoung. I thought beforehand it’ll be okay as long as you stay by my side but…” He finally looked up at you, raw emotion in his eyes. “But then I realized I didn’t want anyone else to touch you like that. You’ve always been my other half. I was so sure that what we had could never die, even if we did…”

The hope blossomed in your chest and you swallowed hard. “Are you saying… you were mad and did all that because you want to be the one I fuck?”

He shrugged. “I want to be the one for you for everything. Me and you. That’s how this started. My dream isn’t anything without you, don’t you know that?” He stepped closer and reached out. “Through thick and thin it’s always you.”

You let him pull you against him, chest to chest, your breath knocked out of you. “Hongjoong… this sounds like a confession.”

“Maybe because it is?” He was already leaning in as if to kiss you; not that you were making any effort to pull away.

All it took was one moment, one kiss, and you were on the bed beneath him, lips locked and clothes flying off with a desperation you couldn’t recall seeing him with before. At least until you were completely on display for him, shy as he pulled away just to admire your body.

You tried to close your legs and cover your chest but he just shook his head and pinned your hands at your side. “I’ve waited for this, please let me have it.”

Even if you wanted to deny him, you couldn’t. His hair was a mess, made even worse now that his shirt was tossed somewhere but he still had his accessories dangling from his neck.

The sight of him like this would never grow old in your mind. Your desire and love for him, brought out by his touches, would never die.

[ladywaffles]

A little ditty about the first time Maverick preened Ice’s wings for him… thanks for letting me play in your sandbox! :)

It happens during Ice’s molt, the year they decide to call a spade and spade and stopped leaving before dawn. They send their second class back out to sea three days before Ice molts. Maverick has been an instructor for almost a year, but this is Ice’s first molt as an instructor.

He’s not unused to flying, but it’s been a while since he’s put this many hours in the sky, pulling the maneuvers that Top Gun teaches. He wakes up at three in the morning with an itch in his wings that makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.

It’s hell.

Ice trudges to the bathroom and closes the door before he flicks the light on, careful to make sure that it doesn’t bleed out through the doorway and wake Maverick up. If one of them has to be awake and miserable at oh-dark-thirty in the morning, there’s no sense in the other one suffering when they’re in between cohorts.

He gets a look at his wings in the mirror, and it’s rough. He hasn’t looked this bad since he was nineteen and putting himself through the rigor of daily PT in Annapolis. Sighing, he stretches a wing out and starts plucking at the dead feathers, massaging them out until they fall to the floor. It’s a mind-numbing task, especially in the middle of the night when he could be in bed, pressed against the warm line of Maverick’s body next to his, but he knows well enough that he won’t be able to fall asleep until he’s worked most of the way through his wings.

He’s just about to reach for the awkward part by his shoulder when the bathroom door swings open.

Maverick looks about as tired as Ice feels. His hair is rumpled, sticking straight up on one side of his head, and he blinks in the harsh light from the bathroom vanity like a drunk trying to focus on walking in a straight line.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Maverick squints at him.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Ice says.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Maverick pouts.

Ice stares at him blankly. It’s too goddamn early (late?) for him to figure out what Maverick wants from him.

“It’s the middle of the night, Mav, you should be asleep,” he says.

“We should be asleep,” Maverick replies and drags him out of the bathroom with a steel grip on his wrist. He makes it all the way to the edge of the bed, pushes down on Ice’s shoulders until he’s sitting on the ground, then sits on the mattress with Ice between his legs.

“Maverick, I can take care of this, really, go back to sleep,” Ice tells him.

“Will you just shut up already and let me get on with it so we can both go back to bed,” Maverick grumbles.

Ice does as he’s told and shuts up. Maverick’s already irritable enough, and Ice doesn’t want to piss him off more.

Mav is faster than he is at working the dead feathers free. It helps that he’s got a better vantage point and can actually reach all of Ice’s wing without contorting his arms into twisted poses, but Maverick really is better at preening than Ice is. It feels nice, to have Mav’s nimble fingers running through his feathers. It’s a good feeling on a normal day, when they’re cleaning up after a day of blasting the kids out of the sky, but when he’s molting and every feather out of place is that much more annoying? Ice would bottle the sensation if he could.

He doesn’t realize how deep he’s out of it until his cheek smacks into Mav’s thigh. Ice jerks up, his wings puffing out as he snaps awake.

“You undid it all,” Maverick moans. “Will you just calm down and let me work?” He pushes in between Ice’s shoulder blades until Ice relaxes, then threads his fingers through Ice’s almost-too-long hair and guides it back to rest on his leg.

“No, I want to stay awake,” Ice protests. “You’re awake too, I woke you up—”

“Kazansky, I would not be here if I didn’t want to be,” Maverick says.

“But—”

“Let me take care of you, Ice.”

Ice wants to twist around and look at him, but Maverick curls his own wings around them both, cocooning them away from the rest of the world. It’s hard to fight the lure of comfort then, so Ice lets himself melt into Maverick as he works through the molting feathers.

He falls asleep at some point, and it’s nearly dawn by the time that Mav tugs him into bed properly and drags them both under the covers. Ice drapes himself over Maverick, their chests pressed together, until Maverick winds his arms around Ice’s body and holds him close.

“Thank you, love you,” Ice mumbles, straight into Maverick’s skin.

“Tell me again when you’re awake, hotshot,” Maverick says.

///

The sunshine wakes him up properly. It’s mid-morning, and Maverick is already awake, scratching his fingers along the base of Ice’s wings.

“Good morning, grumpy,” Maverick teases.

“Don’t stop,” Ice whines, tucking his head under Mav’s chin. He feels Maverick’s laugh in his chest, but Maverick does as Ice asks and runs his hands over Ice’s back.

“You could’ve woken me up,” Ice says.

“Funny, I think I said the same thing to you last night.”

Ice lifts his chin enough to look at Maverick. “I didn’t want to bother you,” he says.

“Am I sleeping in your bed?”

“Mav—”

“It’s a yes or no question. Am I sleeping in your bed?”

“Yes.”

“How long have I been doing that?”

“Four months, give or take.”

“In the past four months, have I ever given you the idea that I don’t want to be here?”

“No.”

“Logic and clear thinking would indicate then that I want you to bother me by walking me up when you’re uncomfortable, wouldn’t it? Because it wouldn’t be a bother.” Maverick cups his cheek. “C’mon, Kazansky. I know you’re Mister Ice-Cold-No-Mistakes, but I think you’ve got room for me. I want to be here. Let me be here for you.”

“Thank you,” Ice says. He doesn’t know what else to say. “It’s… been a while since someone did that for me. I usually just ride it out myself.”

“Two fuckin’ years since we met, and you never thought to ask for my help?” Maverick grins.

Ice tries to think of a retort, then last night comes back to him in crystal clear picture, like the sky above the Pacific on a cloudless day.

He knows exactly what to say.

“I get it. I know why you want me to wake you up when I’m up and uncomfortable,” Ice says, pushing his weight onto his elbows so he can hold himself above Maverick.

“Yeah? What is it then?” Maverick asks.

“I love you.”

He watches as Maverick passes through a carousel of emotions in a matter of moments.

“You said to tell you again when I was awake,” Ice continues.

“I did say that, didn’t I,” Maverick replies, breathless. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“If you keep talking to me like that, we’re not gonna make it out of bed in time for lunch,” Maverick says.

“Promise?”

There’s a playful glint in Maverick’s eye, the same one Ice saw the day he asked for a flyby for two.

Ice smiles back. “Love you.”

First post of the new year (even though I started this pic in december shhhh)

and what a surpise, it's more wing!au :) I just like the juxtaposition of admiral Kazansky (2 star here), polished to such perfection even his feathers are gleaming, versus just Ice, casual, rumpled feathers being diligently seen to by his loving partner.

Maverick has trouble sitting still usually, but preening Ice like this gets him to focus like nothing else (except for when he's flying a jet, of course)

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Bad Ideas (Part 17)

Regulus Black au

Summary:  It started as nothing now it’s something. Voldemort has been defeated but that doesn’t mean the wizarding world is still a good place to be.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating : M

Link to Part 16

AO3 Link

________

“We were all apparently having sex at the same time. Surprise, Grandpa.”

James continued to stare at Regulus as if he had reached across the table and slapped him. For a moment, he was curious if Regulus was just screwing with him. That would definitely be something Regulus would do.

“You…you as in you are having twins with my daughter?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow while Sirius stood up and moved to stand behind James. He wasn’t sure how James was going to react to this news. Something told Sirius to be ready to grab his best friend and haul him out of the room. Sirius wasn’t afraid of what James would do. He was more concerned that Regulus would fight dirty. The last thing Sirius wanted to deal with was a trip to the hospital.

“Yes, it was I that slept with Y/n. Sex is how babies are created if you didn’t know. I would certainly hope you knew considering you have kids yourself but never know.”

Regulus replied in a patronizing tone. He considered saying something more crude like “Yes, James. I knocked up your daughter. Again, surprise grandpa” but decided not to. As much fun as that would be, Regulus didn’t want to give you any reason to be upset more than necessary. He knew that he would have to find some way to be nicer to James and Lily but at the moment that wasn’t a huge worry.

“I know how babies are made. I am not an idiot, Regulus. I was simply hoping it would be someone else…anyone else.”

“Considering she is married to me that would be problematic.”

James sighed and put his head down on the table. When he came back, he was under the impression that both Harry and yourself were still babies. He was looking forward to all of life’s cheesy moments. He wanted to take both of you to the zoo and play tea party. James never expected to walk in and find out that both of his children were grown with lives of their own. He wasn’t ready to find you married to Regulus.

“Just ignore me. I need to sit quietly for a moment.”

Regulus felt his temper beginning to build yet again. From the time that James and Lily came back, James hadn’t done much but gripe about how you had decided to live your life. Regulus had to give Lily points for at least trying to take things as they were.

All Regulus could see was the look of disappointment on your face when James started fussing about your life. The werewolf in Regulus was more than happy to tear James a new one.

“You have sat quietly for long enough and so have I. Since you have been back you have done nothing but bitch about how Y/n has chosen to live her life. I’m not stupid and realize most of it is due to me but you need to get over it. Y/n chose me and I chose her. None of your little comments is going to change that. You need to do us all a favor and accept it before I have to take you outside and beat you.”

Regulus gave James another glare that said “Try me bitch” before turning back to you. His expression has softened in seconds before holding a hand out to you.

“Come on, darling. We need some air.”

You didn’t argue nor disagree with Regulus’ statement. It was best that the two of you left the house as soon as possible. You knew Regulus was about to lose his fragile grip on his temper.

Following Regulus into the back garden, you gave him a moment to pace around before speaking.

“I know I told you the other day but thank you for always having my back.”

Regulus stopped pacing and turned to look at you. He sighed before running his hand through his hair. You stood holding your right arm looking at him with those perfect doe eyes.

In some ways, he had accepted the current predicament that the two of you found yourselves in. In others, he still felt in denial. His eyes dropped down your body. You stood with an oversized sweater hiding your lower body. While you weren't showing yet, Regulus knew that it would only be a matter of time. Everything would feel real then.

“Come here.”

You walked closer to Regulus and waited for him to pull you into his arms. When he did, you snuggled your face against his chest. Regulus gently kissed the top of your head.

“There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you.”

You were silent for a moment before speaking again. From your spot, you could see Lily looking out at the two of you with a worried expression on her face.

“We will have to find some way to get along with them. As much as my father’s less-than-stellar behavior has been, I do need to cut him some slack. They probably never expected to walk into this. I think they expected to return to toddlers.”

“I’ll try to be good.”

Regulus replied. He wasn’t going to promise it but he would try his best.

“If we can find some way to be civil, it will make the next few months slightly more bearable.”

Regulus took a breath before sighing.

“Will you think that I am a big dumb jerk if I tell you that I am terrified about the idea of having twins? Having a single child scares me to death add two…I am freaking the fuck out.”

You softly laughed before moving to look up at your husband. Regulus was usually so calm and collected. Seeing the look of panic in his eyes was almost foreign.

“I would never think that you are a big dumb jerk for how you feel. If it makes you feel any better, I am terrified too. When I signed up to be friends with Hermione and Ginny, I thought we were going to do things like go shopping and have tea together. I never expected to be pregnant with them.”

Regulus smirked.

“Yeah, me neither. As much as I like your brother this is not the situation I expected us to be in at the same time. So, what if we lose a kid?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that one.

“I have already been thinking about that. We can dress each child in a certain color, if the twins are of the same gender. If they are different genders then our work is a little more cut out for us. Worse comes to worse, the muggles make these things called Air Tags. We can track them on our phones.”

Regulus nodded.

“That might just work…especially when they become teenagers…especially if one turns out to be like their uncle.”

The two of you shared matching expressions of horror. You weren't sure if you could handle a child like Sirius.

“Reggie, I know lord snakeface is long gone but this world still isn’t a great place. Is it selfish to bring two children into the world? What about when the next big bad comes about? What if that is worse than the other? That will be something that our children will have to deal with.”

Regulus was quiet for a moment before speaking.

“I’ll make you a deal. When these kids grow to be adults, if we aren’t totally sick of them, we will just lock them in their bedrooms and never let them leave.”

Regulus was relieved when you laughed at that. He wasn’t a fool. Regulus knew that you were as scared of this pregnancy as he was.

“Deal.”

The following weeks were some of the most awkward that you had experienced. James was still in a state of unending shock about the situation at hand. Lily was eagerly trying to do whatever she could to help you. You had to give her points for trying. She wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought that she was.

One thing that you were thankful for was the fact there had been no morning sickness yet. Unlike Hermione and Ginny, who were sick as dogs, you were still living life normally (with the exception of drinking pickle juice right out of the jar).

Regulus had backed off of harassing James so much. Whenever he felt like saying something snarky, Regulus would simply leave the room before the temptation became too great.

One morning you sat at the dining room table looking over patient charts while Regulus sat stirring a cup of tea.

“Does dealing with all of those sick people not make you nauseous?”

You shook your head.

“No, surprisingly. I think I will be able to handle all of the gross things like diapers.”

Regulus nodded.

“So does that mean that you are volunteering for that duty? I don’t want to throw up on our child’s head.”

Chucking, your eyes rolled up to Regulus’ worried face.

“I hear that it's different when it's your own child.”

“I suppose we will see.”

Regulus commented as Ron entered the room with a very pale Hermione behind him. You frowned at your best friend’s face.

“Y/n, can you do something to help her”

Scooting your chair back, you moved to walk over to Hermione. Sirius and Remus pulled up a chair. They were getting used to having ring side seats to his so-called “event of the century.”

“What’s wrong?”

You asked as Ron sank down in the chair nearest to him.

“She won’t stop vomiting. It goes on from the time that she gets up until the time she goes to bed. There is no stopping.”

You gave Ron a frown as Harry and Ginny came in.

“There, there.”

You replied condescendingly before moving to Hermione. Placing a hand on her forehead and the other on her stomach.

“Yep, you are definitely pregnant. I have a potion that might help.”

Walking out of the room, you came back with a clear vial. Hermione nearly tore it out of your hand before downing it. You blinked a few times before turning back to Ginny.

“What about you? Do you need some too?”

Ginny shook her head.

“I’m okay today but it's good to know that you have something. I mean with being a healer I would be concerned if you didn’t.”

You nodded before going back to your seat and sitting down. Picking up the jar of pickle juice, you took a small sip. Sirius stared at you looking horrified.

“I can get you a glass.”

You shook your head.

“No, the jar adds to the experience. You could go get some of those crisps with the ridges. Those would go really well with this juice.”

Sirius nodded before getting up and going off in search of crisps. Hermione gave you a frown.l

“How are you not sick?”

You shrugged.

“No idea but I am not complaining. Afterall, I wasn’t the one who thought that this great friend experience we are having was a good idea to begin with.”

Ginny turned to face you.

“So, will you deliver my baby?”

You nearly choked on your pickle juice at that question.

“You know that I don’t typically do that, right?”

Ginny shrugged.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else scoping out between my legs. Besides, I have faith in you. You’re a good healer.”

You crinkle your nose at the “scoping out between my legs” comment.

“Ginny, I don’t want to be scoping out between your legs. That sounds dirty.”

“So? You're one of my best friends and I know with you I would be comfortable, so will your brother.”

You met Harry’s eyes before sighing.

“I swear to Merlin. I’m sure there is a book I can read on the subject. Fine. I swear, I keep getting roped into weird shit with the two of you. For the future, the next time you decide to have babies at the same time. Don’t include me.”

Hermione smiled, squeezing your hand.

“I’ll need your help too.”

You sighed.

“You are playing on my emotions, holding my hand like that. May I make a suggestion for the two of you?”

Both Hermione and Ginny nodded.

“When they offer you drugs for the pain, take them.”

The following few minutes were fairly uneventful. After the conversation that you were just a part of, you needed a break. You glanced over at Regulus who was still shaking his head.

The doorbell ringing got your attention as Ron got up to answer it. When he came back with Neville, you could see Regulus tensing up. Neville’s eyes flickered over to Regulus. Both men were still clearly not each other’s biggest fans.

“You wanted to see me, Y/n?”

You nodded, ignoring the way Regulus was staring at you.

“Yes, I needed to ask you a question.”

Regulus muttered about owls being a very real thing. You chose to ignore his snide remarks as Neville sat down near Harry. He had a feeling that Regulus wouldn’t try anything if he was that far away. Neville had no doubt that Regulus would climb across the table after him if the opportunity presented itself. He only wanted to put that off as much as he could.

“What can I do for you?”

Neville asked, taking his attention off of your husband. He still found himself cringing at the thought of Regulus being your husband. Knowing that you were having the man’s baby, made Neville feel even more sick to his stomach.

You reached for your work bag and took out some papers.

“What if I told you that I could put your parents right?”

Neville frowned.

“Do it. I would tell you to do it. Why?”

You blinked a few times.

“Well, I may have created a potion that could fix memory curses in the most severe form. It's never been tested. In theory, it should work…if I have done my calculations correctly.”

Neville stood quietly for a moment.

“Do it. What are you waiting for?”

“I have to have your permission. I couldn’t just drug them and be like surprise! That would be unethical. We thought about trying it out on Lockhart but nobody really wanted that.”

Regulus leaned back in his chair. Both he and Remus were staring at each other in total surprise from the moment the conversation started.

“When have you had time to do this, love?”

Glancing back to Regulus, you shrugged.

“What do you think I am doing when I can’t sleep? When something is important, you make time.”

Neville, meanwhile, held his hand up. He didn’t have time to listen to any explanations. The thought of having his parents back was everything he had ever wanted. Seeing Harry and yourself have your parents come back had given him some hope that Alice and Frank could be restored too.

When they remained as they were, Neville quickly began to lose faith. Now here you stood offering the possibility of being able to help. That was all that Neville needed to hear. He didn’t care about any outcomes other than having his mother and father in complete control of their minds.

“Excuse me, but back to my parents. Where do I sign and when can we do it”

You held out the paper with all of the information.

“If it doesn't work, there could be…”

Neville cut you off.

“I don’t care. It isn’t like they have much of a life anyway.”

Neville snatched the paper out of your hand before scribbling his name. James and Lily came back with Siruis who had located the crisps you had sent him off for.

“What’s going on?”

James asked. Remus turned to his friend with a proud smile.

“Time to see if your child be a genius.”

“Or a bloody failure.”

You added. Neville was nearly jumping up and down white pointing to the door.

“Let's go! I’ll meet you there.”

He disappeared without another word. You reached down for your bag before meeting your family’s gaze.

“Well, are you lot coming to either watch me succeed or fail?”

Ginny and Harry were on their feet while Regulus stood up and went off for your coat.

“If this works…”

Harry started but stopped as you turned to him.

“It will be time to update my Chocolate Frog.”

_____

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