#i do have some other older fics for them but i'm considering those out of continuity lol

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Proper Etiquette Chapter 1, Whine and dine

Masterlist Word count: 1.3k Xavier x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your family is rich. Filthy rich. So rich that they bought titles for themselves and their children. Sadly, your parents want their titles to mean something and have an arranged marriage lined up for you. You told them you’d agree to it if you were allowed to live as a “commoner” for two years and if you’d find someone you loved who would marry you, you could. Surprisingly, they agreed. Only downside is that that deal was made 18 months ago and you really do not want to go back to that life.  

Author's note: Welcome to a new story! This one is about Xavier. I wanted to get the first chapter out there, but the next chapter is coming after I've finished my Sylus fic. Hope ya'll like it <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains swear words, talk of violence, talk of trauma, mentions of alcohol, drinking, and smoking, sex, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

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'Can you at least pretend to have fun?' 

Your friend, Jeremiah, is getting increasingly annoyed at your sour face. Completely understandable of course. You two are in public, having dinner together. People might misunderstand and think you are here against your will. 

'I'm sorry,' you say, sitting up a little straighter, 'I'm just a bit down in the dumps.' 

'Yeah, well, being down in the dumps isn't going to get you a husband,' Jeremiah snaps back. Your eyes widen at his cruel words. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. 'Sorry, I didn't mean that. It's just-' 

'It's been a long week. I know,' you finish his sentence, trying to calm your nerves. Jeremiah is the only one who knows about your whole ordeal. You told it to him one drunken night whilst you two were watching a movie. 

What is your whole ordeal? Well, buckle up. 

Your parents came into money after your grandparents died and became completely blinded by the wealth. Apparently, your grandparents had quite the nest egg they were hiding. Probably for this exact reason. All that aside, your father is a smart man and managed to turn their fair bit of wealth into a grand bit of wealth. 

That only fed their delusions of grandeur. They started considering themselves high society while, just a few years ago, all of you were pinching pennies to go out for a birthday dinner. Now, they felt like they deserved titles and bought one for themselves, for your sister, and for you despite your disagreement. 

Eventually, it still wasn't enough. No, they wanted real titles, real wealth, real respect. Your older sister has been married for a while, but they saw an opportunity with you. They started arranging a marriage for you with some member of high society. You couldn't care less. As a counter, you proposed a deal. 

You get to live as a "commoner" for two years before the arranged marriage. Just so you can "feel how the real world is." Or at least, that's how you sold it to your parents. You added that you would also like to have the chance to find real love and that you would like to be allowed to marry someone if you found your true love in those two years. 

Your dad, ever the romantic, agreed and convinced your mother to agree as well. They moved you into an apartment, gave you a monthly allowance to assure you'd be comfortable, and left you to your own devices. 

A month in, you met Jeremiah at his flower shop. He was looking for help and you applied. You have been close friends ever since. 

'I swear, once wedding season is over, I am closing the store for a whole month,' he groans, 'we both need a break.' You reach over the table and take his hand. He looks up at your teary eyes as his mouth forms an "o" shape. Wedding season is usually the whole of the summer. Things usually slow down in September before picking up the next month again for fall weddings. 

However, it is the first day of May. You will be gone the first of September. Back to your rich life to marry some lord or prince or whatever your parents have picked out. 

'Maybe we should go over that escape plan again,' you joke, trying hard to smile and thinking back to that same drunken night you told him. The two of you planned out an elaborate escape for you that wasn't at all logical when you looked back on it the next day. 

'We really should,' he agrees and reaches to the bottle of wine you're sharing with his free hand to top off your wine. Before he can, you pull your glass away. 

'I shouldn't drink too much,' you note, 'I'm opening the store tomorrow.' 

'Right, it's your weekend.' Jeremiah almost looks defeated as he pulls his hand away and pours the last bit of wine into his own glass. When you started working for him, you agreed on a schedule that allowed either of you to have one weekend to sleep in. The store is closed on Sunday and Monday so it's only the Friday and Saturday. 

There's a pregnant silence between the both of you. A million questions yet to be asked. Too many for right now, too many to ask before you have to leave. You watch as Jeremiah meets you eyes again with a twinkle in his that you have seen before. 

'No Jeremiah, you can't marry me.' He frowns. 

'Why not? We could be happy together.' 

'Oh yeah? And what would your boyfriend think about it?' He rolls his eyes. 

'He'd understand. Besides-' 

'No. Jeremiah, I couldn't do that to you. Anyway, we can keep being friends. It's not as if I'll disappear from the face of the earth in September.' 

'I know. I just want you to be happy.' You take his hand in yours again. 

'I'll be fine. I promise. Now let's go home and watch some trash TV.' 

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Jeremiah: "Btw, my friend Xavier is coming by to drop off some stuff. Forgot it was your weekend." 

You roll your eyes. Typical Jeremiah. The man can't remember things to save his life. It doesn't matter though; Xavier is not much of a nuisance. In fact, you sometimes wonder if he's a mute. The man refuses to speak more than three sentences to you. 

Just as you put your phone away, you see him walking in carrying a cardboard box looking as handsome as he always does dressed in that white leather jacket of his. He looks a little surprised to see you instead of Jeremiah. Still, you greet him warmly. 

'Hey, Jeremiah told me you'd be dropping off some stuff for him?' 

'Right. Shall I leave it in his office?' 

'Sure, I'll unlock it for you.' He follows behind you like a puppy as you walk to the office. He's been here a million times before and knows the way. You probably could give him the key and let him do his thing, but you feel you don't know him well enough for that. 

However, something strange happens. Something that has never happened before between the two of you. Small talk. Not just any small talk. Small talk that he starts. 

'Jeremiah told me you're moving soon.' 

'That's right. I'm moving back with my parents.' 

'Why?' You open the door for him, and he walks past you. The look on his face is neutral, but there's a curious twinkle in his eyes as he puts the box down on Jeremiah's desk. Everything suddenly feels unreal in the messy office. The dark hardwood furniture suddenly doesn't seem as dark anymore. The piles of files don't seem as high anymore. The chaos doesn't feel as present anymore. 

For some strange reason, it's just you and Xavier and the dust particles flying through streaks of sunlight, and it almost feels magical. Like a scene out of a movie. 

'Did Jeremiah tell you anything about my situation?' He shakes his head. You take a second to consider the consequences of telling him and quickly decide it doesn't matter anymore. 'I had a deal with them that I would try and find love in two years, otherwise they'd arrange a marriage for me.' He frowns and walks around the desk, leaning against it with his arms crossed. Now there is no barrier between the two of you and you suddenly realize how close you are. 

'What for?' 

You shrug: 'Greed.' 

He nods and looks you over for a few seconds from his spot on Jeremiah's desk. Almost as if he's weighing his options. And then he says the most out of pocket thing you've ever heard. 

'I could marry you.' 

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Next

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[kit-screams-into-the-future]

re: the last post i reblogged bc i am realizing just how much i yapped in the tags and i do not wish to subject the wider tumblr public to that rant LMAO

[solitaireships]

Header credit | Divider credit

A collection of fics focused on my polyship for Jayce and Mel! This includes stuff that's within the timeline of me trying to fix things and give them a happier ending and general ship fics with them

Homecoming

After months apart, Corinna stumbles upon Jayce having newly arrived back to his apartment. They talk about everything that he's been through, and what might come next

Read it here

Gingerbread Home

A modern AU Christmas fic. Corinna, Jayce, and Mel make a gingerbread house together

Read it here

[pedrospatch]

baby, i’m yours

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50��s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

main masterlist l fic notifs

Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.

“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.

“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”

“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.

Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.

He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.

Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.

Baby, I'm yours

and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky

yours until the rivers all run dry

in other words, until I die

He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.

Joel wants to be annoyed. 

Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.

You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.

Baby, I’m yours

and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines

yours until the poets run out of rhyme

in other words, until the end of time

Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.

Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.

Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.

Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.

“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”

Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”

“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.

Fucking Christ. 

You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?

Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.

For being so, so fucking good for him.

He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 

You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.

He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.

Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?

He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.

You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.

The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.

“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”

Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.

Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”

“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”

Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.

“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.

Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.

Could it be that you’re actually content with him?

Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 

“I’m gonna stay right here by your side

do my best to keep you satisfied

nothing in this world can drive me away

‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”

It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”

Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.

“Because I don’t want anyone else.”

“You deserve better.”

You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”

“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”

“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”

Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”

His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.

“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”

His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”

You sigh.

“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.

You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”

“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”

Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.

It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.

Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.

After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”

“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”

It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.

He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”

“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.

Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.

“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”

You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”

You say it over and over again and he believes it.

He finally fucking believes it.

Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.

“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”

When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.

“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”

Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

Joel grins. “And your point is?”

You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.

[yanderestarangel]

Wesker has consumed my mind entirely, so could I leave an request for him?

Albert wesker as the father of readers boyfriend, at first he didn’t pay much attention to them but the more often reader came by, the more his thoughts started to become intimate and every time reader would have a fight with his son, wesker would use it to make them doubt their relationship with his son.

Really love your fics, if you won’t do this request it’s fine, but really can’t wait to read more of your story’s! Hope you’re doing alright and take care of yourself 🫶

— HEADCANONS RE || WESKER FATHER-IN-LAW X SON-IN-LAW READER

TW ┊dark smut, ftm reader, aggression, toxic relationship, age gap, v!sex, cheating, eat out, blowjob, 69, sexual recording, sensitive themes, dead dove.

WARNING : no negativity please. If this isn’t your sort of content, block me and move on with your day<3

— SFW AND NSFW

In Wesker's eyes, at first you were just another toy for his son, you were already the third boyfriend his son had in less than three months — so the scientist didn't even look at you, just greeting you out of politeness and isolating himself again in his office to continue his work."It won't last long, I bet." Albert said to himself, referring to yet another boyfriend of his son, but he didn't get involved in matters... After all, he was a man too busy for trivial things.

You obviously tried to be a polite boy and get along with your father-in-law, but all your attempts failed as the blonde didn't even look at you — and if he did, you couldn't speak because he simply wore those sunglasses 24 of the day. It was frustrating for you every time you received a rude and rude response from your own father-in-law, making you give up on getting closer to him.

But despite his attempts to avoid you out of pure disinterest, he couldn't deny that you were getting into his routine much more than he wanted to admit. His son always brought you to spend the weekends and have lunch at his mansion, so finally the older man's eyes noticed you.

You were a kind and sweet man, different from his son who was always the same as his personality — only a little worse considering his extreme elitist upbringing. But not you, you were simple and sweet, it even surprised him how stupidly innocent you could be sometimes.

And his also knew that it wouldn't take long for his son to start a fight with you because of his stupidity.

The older blonde started to have unhealthy thoughts about you, your presence was like a balm for him, but also like an inferno that threatened to burn everything and everyone around him.

He began to wonder what it would be like to squeeze your thighs, how your soft skin would feel in his big, calloused hands — how beautiful you would look moaning and begging him to go deeper into your beautiful body... How he would be better than his son being a companion to you.

He really tried to push those thoughts away and tried to approach you like a real father-in-law would, apologizing for his previous behavior and that he was just stressed about some company matters.

But the way your face and doe eyes lit up at simply being treated well by him made the heat in his core gradually rise — every fiber of his being was pulsing and burning like a fire... Only he knows how much he controlled himself to doesn't push you against the nearest wall and make you his right there.

Albert tried to suppress the feelings of lust that were slowly threatening to rot his mind, but every time he saw your smile, even those caused by his son, he wanted to do some crazy things and take you for himself. "Fuck, I'm too old to act like a dedicated man controlled only by his desires." Wesker thought as he rested his temple on his closed fist and watched you on the other side of the room, in his mansion, hugging his son and watching a movie. But he knew that moments of peace like that would end soon, especially with his son's toxic behavior — he had already predicted this, but he never thought it would take a considerably longer time compared to other times.

Even though it took a while, it happened, you fought with your boyfriend and practically the entire gated community heard the screams. Wesker was still trying not to interfere in your two lives because of the feeling of wanting to have you for himself — but after the fifth fight where you were slapped in the face by his son, he felt obliged to break up the heated argument and take you to a safe place away from there.

Before you said anything he just took off his sunglasses and for the first time looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. "No no, you don't need to say anything kid... I know my son was a horrible man and an asshole to you. I'm on the right side, just because he's my son doesn't mean I'm going to blind myself to the horrible things he did you hear." Albert said it loud and clear, then his cold, rough hands found your face and made you focus on his face.

"Listen to me, pretty boy, you deserve someone better than him." He spoke with a tone that made you feel goosebumps, the nickname "pretty boy" came out practically erotically from his thin lips and the look with the older man's dilated pupils didn't help much with your confused feelings.

With each fight that happened in your relationship, you felt closer and closer to your father-in-law. Even starting to frequent Wesker's mansion when your boyfriend wasn't there, purposely just to be alone with the older man.

Between smiles, conversations and not-so-unconscious looks, you quickly found yourself sitting on the older man's thighs while both of you were breathing faster — unable to hold back any longer, Wesker had given in to his desires and finally kissed you, his lips on yours, in a warm and desperate kiss — his hands going to your ass squeezing the soft flesh and quickly soft moans coming out of both of you, the erection in his pants wouldn't let him lie that he wanted more than just kissing his own son-in-law. "Come on lad... I'll show you how much you need someone older who really knows how to take care of you."

Wesker's cock was thick and pulsing enough to make your brain shut down with each thrust, moaning and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth as your legs trembled around his muscular torso — your pussy dripped onto his bare, skin-tight member. skin made you feel the thick, dirty tip of precum kissing your uterus and threatening to fill you at any moment. "Fuck--! open that pussy wider for me, good boy..." Wesker moaned as he grabbed your thighs and squeezed the soft flesh there, leaving marks all over it.

Having sex with your own father-in-law was dirty and wrong... But it was incredibly hot. Unlike your boyfriend, the older man really focused on your pleasure.

He smiled huskily as he saw you turn into a trembling mess barely able to suck his dick while you did a 69 in his office. "You have a charming and pretty pussy, boy," He moaned, licking and wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking hard as he felt your hand on his cock, stroking it gently. The light pressure on his dick was pleasant and arousing as it also fueled his desire to make you feel as good as he could. He kept alternating between his fingers inside you and his tongue on your clit, and every now and then, he'd let a finger slip into your ass, and a moan from your lips encouraged him to continue doing so. "Fuck, you're tight, so, so tight..." Wesker's moaned, his hands squeezing your thighs, wanting you to hold onto him, to let him know that you were enjoying it. "My son is an asshole for letting such a needy and bitchy boy like you run wild, I'm glad I got you for myself, right?"

The two of you fucked like two animals in heat, even with your boyfriend at home — every time you waited for him to sleep and ran to Wesker's office. "Do you want me to help you with this my angel?" The scientist laughed as he fingered your pussy with two thick fingers, rhythmically thrusting into your g-spot and making you roll your eyes and hold on to the wooden table that you were leaning against, making the tall man laugh.

"Shhhh, don't make any noise, be a good slut and keep those beautiful moans bottled up ok? You really are sensitive boy- holy shit, it's just my fingers and you're already squirming for me to touch that cute pussy of yours." He snapped his fingers against your pussy, a sting, but not enough to make you shudder too much as his attention was diverted to your clit, flicking it with his thumb, trying to tease you even more and make you beg for him. him again. "You want me to fuck you don't you? Then you better beg for it boy." Albert pronounced each syllable fiercely, unbuttoning his pants and once again exposing his thick, pulsing member — you could smell the musk and the heat radiating from his groin, making you drip even more and barely be able to think beyond begging him in a slurred manner to fuck you soon.

"My son should see what a whore his boyfriend is for me, you know?" He teased as he buried himself without warning into your wet heat, covering your mouth with his hand as his thrusts were animalistic but with a concern that his cock would hit all the right spots on your sensitive wall.

Fingers, tongue, dick, sex toys, everything you wanted he used for your pleasure, taking you to orgasms that you didn't even know could be so pleasurable. Besides his look conveyed more than a simple desire for you — he wanted more, a lovers' affair wouldn't satisfy him, he needed to steal you from his son.

And how to do this? Simple, record a short porn video and send it to him later — cruel? Sure, but your father-in-law was sick and obsessed with you enough to not even care about his own son.

"Look at the camera, come on my prince, be a good slut and fix your eyes on the lens." Wesker pulled your hair as he made you look at the recording instrument with your face messy and flushed with pleasure — your pussy squeezed and milked the older man's cock as he made sure to record you from every possible angle.

"Smile darling... Tell him who you belong to." He grunted in your ear, hearing you moan his name repeatedly as he increased his thrusts to the point of making your groin hurt and hot, mixing your juices and his cum that made your thighs even wetter. He held his head tightly to the camera, as a cruel smile spread across his own face. “It looks like you lost quite a boy, I never thought you were so stupid, son... But you can leave it, daddy will take good care of your... Ex-boyfriend." The blonde laughed as he came again inside your pussy, seeing you moan drunk of pleasure for him — Wesker loved you in a distorted way, but unlike his son, he really saw a future with you by his side. Like his boy, as it had to be.

[sadiestarrs]

To Meet A Jinx

this is part one!!

Warnings: none :)) just one mention of a gun

A/N: this is my first arcane/ jinx fic so if it's terrible I'm sorry lol

Plot: You work for Silco and his infamous adopted daughter Jinx, except you’ve never met her until now.

Word count: 1,535

Everybody in the city knew about Silco’s insane, blue-haired, and seemingly manic daughter, Jinx. Working for him meant that you were around his henchmen 24/7 and they definitely talked about her.

Most things said about her ranged from the fact that she looked innocent but could blow your face off or that she did actually blow someone's face off that day.

You had heard Sevika complain, too, especially on shipment days. They were always the busiest and most stressful. Silco made sure to have his trusted members on the ship “just to be safe”. 

He had no reason to make everyone work, mostly because he had Jinx. Everyone knew that she could take on twenty people double her size and still win. You hadn’t seen her do anything remotely close to this but it wasn’t hard to believe.

When more than half of a city knows you for being a bloodthirsty killer, of course, they would be weary. But you still weren’t that convinced.

Some older workers talked about a young Jinx running into Silco’s arms with him hugging back and taking her in immediately. Silco didn’t look like the type of guy to appreciate hugs from anyone but it was clear he loved Jinx. And that had to be for a reason.

“I want you to keep an eye on those two,” Sevika says to you, directing people carrying crates. The two men she pointed at were getting on each other's nerves, shoving and bumping one another for no reason. They must have had other issues away from work. 

Your main job was to solve disputes and help Sevika. It didn’t take much but when there were problems, they were always big.

The two guys had moved out of sight and started bothering each other again, causing commotion and yelling. Before you could get around to them, three shipments were falling on the floor, creating a bright purple pool on the ground. 

Everyone had started shoving, making it too much to handle. People were on the floor, glass was being shoved into the soles of your shoes, and most importantly, nearly 500 coins worth of shimmer had been wasted.

Sevika was definitely going to blame you and no one would fess up. You couldn’t even get to the core of the fight before being shoved to the floor and cutting your hand on a large shard of glass.

It didn’t take much to lose all hope for the future. Not only would Silco fire you, but he would make you pay one way or another. None of those things were appealing, especially considering the fact that you desperately wanted to leave this chapter of your life behind. But not before getting a bit of cash and ditching Zaun.

You were sitting helpless, contemplating your life when a shot was fired. It was hard to see through the crowd but it stopped everyone, all the men scattering and moving away.

In front of you was a, surprisingly short, girl, braids nearly touching the floor, holding a revolver and looking around the ship.

No one made eye contact with her. No one went near her. They all went back to their original places as if the fight never happened.

Jinx.

Just her presence alone was enough to make everyone nervous. You hadn’t even realised that you were still sitting on the floor when she came towards you, holding the gun’s handle out. 

It took you a few seconds before realising that she was helping you up. It was enough to make the workers stop. From the corner of your eye, Sevika stood, arms folded, looking at the both of you. You could have sworn that she was laughing when you held on and got up. 

It brought you extremely close to her face, enough to see her baby-blue eyes glimmer. A smile pokes from the side of her mouth. She stood, analysing your face, eyes, lips. You couldn’t move if you tried, she had hypnotised you.

“What the hell is happening here?”

Silco appeared, frozen on the spot. “I spend half of my life working to make life better for all of you and I’m paid with this?”

It was almost symbolic, the liquid sitting under his shoes, mixing with the dirt and mud on the ground and turning into a deeper purple.

“Jinx?” He looks at her but she doesn’t deviate from you. Her body was rigid, completely cornering you.

Confusion was apparent in his expression, looking over at Sevika who only replies with a smirk.

“Jinx!”

Another glimmer appears in her eyes just before she turns around and walks past Silco, no words said.

No one moves or says anything but everyone was looking at you. Sevika pushes off of the wall she was leaning on, leaving the ship, still laughing.

If it wasn’t for your increased heartbeat, you would have questioned the event but too much had happened. Why did she help you up? Why did she analyse you? Why did she ignore Silco?

The questions rushed to your head faster than you could comprehend and faster than you could move after Silco ordered you to go with him. 

He simply pointed, and yelled, “You!” starting to walk faster than you could keep up with. 

______________________________________

“What relationship do you have with Jinx?”

Standing in front of Silco in his office with Sevika next to him was never a place you imagined to be. It almost felt like being in a principal’s office and getting scolded.

You didn’t have a “relationship” with Jinx. You had only met her a few minutes ago on the ship. Everything that happened was unplanned and, frankly, strange. And being interrogated by both of them didn’t help.

“I-I don’t have a relationship with her.” The words were staggered and hard to come out. Your heart had only slowed by a few beats but you could still feel it against your skin.

“That isn’t what I saw. Jinx doesn’t do things like that, meaning that you must have something to do with her.” 

His reasoning didn’t make any sense. Just because she looked at you for a few minutes doesn’t mean that anything happened. 

“Jinx is like a daughter to me. I would hate to have anything happen to her.” Silco continues talking, fiddling with his shimmer eye injection tool. It was nice seeing how much he cared for Jinx but in the end, nothing would happen between you two for a multitude of reasons.

Besides, Jinx didn’t seem like the type to be in a relationship. She was probably too busy blowing things up and creating gadgets.

“You’ll keep your distance. If it wasn’t for her you’d be paying for the lost shimmer right now. Don’t come in next week.”

If it wasn’t for her? Did Jinx help you? What could she have said to make Silco excuse you? You couldn’t walk out of his office quickly enough when he finished. It had turned into a hotbox with his continuous smoking, and you desperately needed air.

Just as you walk down the stairs to leave through the Last Drop, there she was, sitting at the bar and leaning dangerously far back.

“Heya toots!”

She springs up, walking towards you and trapping you in a tight hug at the waist. It was a stark difference from only an hour ago.

“Hi,” you say, walking down the stairs and stopping, awkwardly waiting for her to speak.

“Sorry about earlier, I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” You tell her that it’s no problem, trying to ignore the comment and your heartbeat increasing again. “Thanks for helping me with Silco.” 

She shrugs, crossing both arms behind her back. “Yeah, he gets like that sometimes.” You both stand in the awkward silence. Luckily, the bar was empty but it was surprisingly chilly. All you wanted was to leave and try to forget everything that just happened.

“I’ve been watching you for a while. You seem pretty cool.”

The compliment was nice and well-intentioned but the more you thought about it, the more worried you became. She watched you? 

“Would you wanna go out sometime? It doesn’t have to be out out, but somewhere we can talk.”

All you could do was nod. It was stupid in hindsight. Silco had just spent twenty minutes telling you to stay away from her and but here you were, practically agreeing to go on a date. 

“Cool! I’ll see you here tomorrow!”

Here? Tomorrow? It was too soon and too close to Silco. Whether he would be out or not, Sevika and other henchmen would be nearby, not to mention all of Silco’s other enemies. It was all a bad idea. 

But you still agreed. It would be nice to talk to someone new. And you were sure that saying no would have a painful consequence.

Jinx smiles again, hugging you once more before disappearing up the stairs, leaving you standing at the bottom of the steps.

“Good luck.” You look behind the bar and see Chuck emerge from underneath the counter.

 “She’s a crazy one.”

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning always as I'm planning for this to come in parts

chapter warnings/tags: over the clothes touching, sexually explicit wording, sukuna teasing per usual, palm grinding, i'm slow burn cock blocking y'all so no heavy smut

index part four | part six

part five word count: 1,659

"Yuji, the cookies are almost ready!" you called out from the kitchen. Yuji got up from the couch and made his way to the bar, eyeing the finished cookies.  

"does Nobara really need this many cookies?" he asked, reaching for one. you swiftly swatted his hand away.  

"she’s sick! who doesn’t love homemade cookies when they're under the weather?" you pouted. you hoped she would appreciate them, considering the effort you put in. flour was still smeared on your face from a minor mishap with the mixer.  

"shouldn’t you have made her some soup instead?"  

"Megumi's taking care of the soup. you and I are on cookie duty," you said, pointing your spatula at him with mock severity. "or rather, I'm on cookie duty since I did all the work."  

"hey, I'm delivering them!" Yuji protested, trying to sneak his hand towards the cookies again. you smacked it away once more.  

"I’ve got a batch baking just for us, so cut it out." you handed him the tupperware overflowing with cookies. "now just make the delivery, errand boy."  

Yuji saluted with a grin, taking the containers and heading out the door. you sighed, thinking that being friends with Yuji made you feel like a middle-aged mom. 

as you were in the middle of cleaning the counters, you heard the front door open and shut.

"back already? what did you do, run supersonic?" you asked, surprised to see Yuji return so soon.  

"what, did you miss me that much?" you heard a familiar voice, and you turned to see Sukuna grinning from ear to ear, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the fridge.  

"Sukuna! didn’t expect you to be home until the crack of dawn," you joked, resuming your task of wiping down the counters.  

"aww, someone been dreaming about me at night?" he teased, moving to peek into the oven.  

"hey, those cookies aren’t for you," you warned as he started to open the still-warm oven. before you could stop him, he grabbed a cookie. "those are still hot, you idiot!"  

you reached out to snatch the cookie from Sukuna's hand, but he held it high above his head, just out of your reach. a smirk danced on his lips as he wiggled the cookie teasingly. with a huff, you jumped to grab it, but he quickly moved it to his other hand.  

what followed was a game of keep-away, with you practically trying to climb Sukuna to get the cookie while he skillfully kept it out of your grasp. 

“c’mon, don’t be an ass.” you snarked, and he rolled his eyes, bringing the cookie down to your level. as you leaned in to grab it, he swiftly moved it away. again.  

you did the first thing that came to mind and smacked his chest with both hands, but he didn’t flinch. Sukuna chuckled as he shoved half the cookie into his mouth, raising his eyebrows at you.  

determined, you reached out to snatch the remaining cookie from his teeth. just before you could make contact, Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer.  

“what the hell do you want from me?” you snapped, though your blush betrayed your icy tone. 

with one hand gripping your wrist, Sukuna used his other hand to pull the now slobbery cookie from his mouth. “give me a kiss, and I'll share,” he said with a sly grin.  

“w-what?” you stammered, your eyes widening in disbelief. “why would i do that?”  

“you fought so hard for this one cookie,” he said, gesturing at the sweet in his hand. “but there’s more in the oven. why go to such lengths for something so small?”  

“I wasn’t... don’t be rude,” you replied, your breath catching. okay, maybe you hadn’t needed to touch him as much as you did during the struggle, but you couldn’t deny that it felt good.  

“just speaking the truth,” Sukuna said, pulling you closer. “what, scared to give me a little sugar?”  

“no.” lies. 

“then go ahead, and you’ll get some of my treat.” he seemed to be reveling in the way he was making you blush, enjoying every moment of your embarrassment.  

“fine,” you said, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. what you didn’t expect was for him to turn his face at the last second, catching your lips with his. a jolt of shock and electricity surged through you, both of you locking eyes in surprise. you were the first to pull away, your face burning red, and your breath almost completely halted. “what the hell was that?” 

“I said a kiss, not whatever chicken shit that was,” Sukuna shrugged, breaking the cookie in half and offering you a piece.  

no matter how hard you tried, your hand wouldn’t move to take the cookie. you stood frozen, staring at him in surprise.  

“aww, did I break your brain?” Sukuna teased, tapping his finger against the side of your head. “can’t say I'm not surprised that was all it took. must be pretty empty in there.”  

your lips pressed into a thin line, and you slapped his arm harder than you ever had before. “you’re such an absolute dickwad,” you snapped, delivering a second slap.  

as you went for a third, Sukuna grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “I wouldn’t suggest you do that again,” he said in a low, serious tone.  

“why, what are you gonna about it?” you shot back, your brows furrowed in anger. “are you going to hit a girl?”  

you half-expected him to give you a light shove, knowing him. instead of the physical contact you anticipated, Sukuna’s hands moved to your waist and lifted you with ease, setting you down on the counter and grabbing your arms roughly.  

before you could protest, Sukuna’s lips crashed into yours. it was the exact opposite of what you’d expected, sending shivers down your spine.  

“this is what you get for teasing me, brat,” Sukuna murmured against your lips. you sucked in a breath.  

god, you were still so annoyed with him, but the burning sensation spreading through your body was different from your frustration. his lips felt incredibly good against yours, almost as if they encapsulated yours. 

when his hands moved from your arms and gripped your hips, you embarrassingly let a moan slip past your lips.  

“ah, there it is.” you could feel him smirk before his tongue darted into your mouth. almost instinctively, your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him in deeper. 

the younger you that developed a crush on him was practically pumping her fist into the air in victory right now. 

you pulled away for a moment, catching your breath and telling him, “’m still annoyed with you.” 

“but is it getting better?” Sukuna gave you a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at your flushed expression. 

you didn’t want to answer, so instead you tugged him back into you, frustrated in more ways than one. with the amount of feelings surging through you, you nipped at his bottom lip a little too aggressively.  

while your mouths were a mess of tongues and pants, you fisted Sukuna’s hair in your hands and his own moved to grab your knees and push them apart. 

a shock split through you when you felt him palm your core through your pants. “Sukuna...” you moaned his name, already feeling intoxicated from his touch.  

“been wanting t’ see how innocent you were since the day you moved in.” Sukuna murmured, his hand rubbing against your heat harder. faster. deliberately driving you insane.  

“is this all you’re gonna do to figure that out?” you teased, panting into his neck at the friction his palm was creating on your clothed clit.  

“wanna find out?” he dared, and you nodded weakly.  

you were fully prepared to make a mess on the kitchen counter, impatiently waiting for him to make a fool out of you, even if it was a one and done thing. if it was just a point he wanted to prove you didn’t give a fuck.  

as the desire burned hotter within you, ready for him to remove every bit of your clothes... you heard a set of keys in the door.  

you quickly pushed Sukuna away, earning a chuckle from him, then jumped down from the counter and straightened your clothes. it had to be Yuji, you reminded yourself. you needed to look like you weren’t just grinding on his brother’s hand right in the kitchen. 

Sukuna leaned casually against the counter opposite you, watching as you scrambled to grab your discarded cleaning spray just as Yuji walked in.  

“Nobara was really grateful for the cookies. and if she says a few went missing, she’s lying,” Yuji said, shutting the door behind him. his gaze quickly shifted to you cleaning, with Sukuna watching from across the room.  

“the other cookies just came out of the oven,” you said, your voice coming out hurried and a bit strange.  

“bro, are you bothering y/n?” Yuji asked, giving Sukuna a disapproving look.  

without even glancing at him, Sukuna replied with a smirk, “yeah, I was bothering her real bad.”  

you choked on your own breath, coughing and blaming it on the cleaner fumes. “both of you. out of the kitchen. now,” you seethed, trying to hide the blush on your face as you ushered them both out.  

left alone with your own thoughts, you knew Sukuna just had to be doing that to get a rise out of you (which he did of course). he’d known about your crush, you told yourself, that was it.  

you tried to brush it off, chalking it up to him being a dick and wanting to embarrass you. but... what he’d said about wanting to do that since you moved in stuck with you.  

no. no Sukuna wouldn’t ever look at you that way. even if you so wished he would. 

fuck, you needed a cold shower—stat. 

 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this WIP let me know! ♡

[contumacious-arcadia]

Hello! I'm aware there is a lot of discontent around shipping Alastor with anyone since it's been stated that he is an asexual character and I would also like to throw my two cents out into the void pertaining to the issue. I *really* like radioapple. My lizard brain spouted "they gon' fuck" as soon as I saw "Dad Beat Dad". I find it super charming and enemies-to-lovers is naturally hella entertaining in my opinion - so I started reading radioapple fics and **they may have actually taught me something about myself. ** I'm on the older side (37), and have always just referred to myself as bisexual. I never really considered anything else because when I was younger and learning my own identity, all of the super specified language just wasn't available to me. It didn't really cross my mind to reexamine those conclusions as time passed, because I was under the impression (as many others also seem to be) that asexual meant "ABSOLUTELY ZERO SEX OR SEX-ADJACENT THINGS FOREVER, NO, NYET, NINE" and aromantic meant "ABSOLUTELY DEATHLY ALLERGIC TO ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS, NEVER EVER, NOPE". ...I am definitely not the only one, as this does seem to be the sticking point people argue about when shipping Al with literally anyone. After reading many, many radioapple fics written by people within the asexual and aromantic spectrums, I feel like I've gotten a better handle on the categorization and shockingly (to me, at least) it seems *I* am actually also very aromantic and moderately touch averse (though I would not consider myself asexual). Who would have thunk that fanfic would teach me a very important fact about myself? It was like I was given a key to understanding why my relationships are always so troubled and why I seem to HATE being in relationships, despite repeatedly diving back into them. I literally give each new partner a whole-ass speech about how *incredibly* uncomfortable overly romantic crap makes me feel and how if they start badgering me/guilting me about the whole 'love' concept incessantly, I will likely freak out and end the relationship... and EVERY TIME they pull that crap and then try to guilt me by claiming that they "didn't think I was serious". If I had the language to explain I was aromantic and touch averse (when not specifically gettin' down), I think I could have avoided a lot of damage. Maybe. Anyway, I just wanted to state that shipping an ace or aro/ace character and writing fanfic that actually explains their thought process and feelings can be a SUPER beneficial thing. I don't know why it wasn't obvious to me that nothing is ever 100% black and white, but again, I don't seem to be the only person who believed that. I would gently urge some of the fans who are hardcore (and vocally) *against* shipping Al with anyone to read some of the fics and maybe it can help them adjust their perspective a bit too - just like it helped me. BUT - this *IS* the internet, so if you just want to shout angrily into the void, you can do that too! Two cents complete.

[promise-you-doie]

i’m in love with the antinitonny, can you do long anton fic? 🥺

Memories | L. Anton

Summary: it's the last summer before you start college and you and you plan to make the most of it. Word count: 15k Pairing: Anton x Reader Genre: friends to lovers. Fluff. Angst. Suggestive. Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of drugs and alcohol. maybe some cuss words

Youth. The stage of life where you're bound to make mistakes, and memories. You meet the people you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with, and learn valuable lessons to teach when you’re old and bound to a rocking chair. 

Adults always tell you to enjoy your youth and for once you actually plan on listening to them. 

“Eunseoks here.” You run down the stairs after seeing his car pull into the driveway from the window of your room. “He’s here,” You yell once again, heading towards the kitchen where your mom is. 

Before you could yell again, He and Sungchan walked through the door, pulling suitcases behind them. You quickly open the fridge and pretend as if you’re completely unaware of their presence. 

“Are those my boys?” Your mom asks while walking into the living room to greet them, welcoming them both with a nice warm hug. “Your sister is waiting for you in the kitchen.” You hear her say while eavesdropping on their conversation

“Doesn’t my little sister miss me?” He slightly yells as he walks into the kitchen where you are. It’s been almost 5 months since you last saw your older brother, so yes, of course you miss him. Even if he was annoying and unfun to be around. 

“Oh hey, Eunseok, I didn’t know you were here.” You speak nonchalantly. “Really? I saw you peeking from the upstairs window.” He exposes you 

“Uh…” You stumble to find anything to say. 

“I see you still haven’t changed.” He laughs. 

“Why would I change? It's only been five months.” You question while peeling the orange you pulled out of the fridge. “What have you been up to?” he asks as he takes the orange out of your hand to peel for you, because you had a habit of biting your nails so you could never tear the skin to even begin to strip the orange. 

“Nothing really, I’ve just been worrying about starting college.” You sigh. “There’s nothing to worry about, You’re smart you’ll be fine. Just remember like I said, don’t fall-” “Fall into the wrong crowd and stay away from drugs.” You finish. 

“See you got it.” He congratulates you by handing you back the now naked orange. Eunseok being your older brother,  you always received life talks from him, even if you didn’t know what he was talking about. He took his role very seriously even though he was only 3 years older than you. 

“Y/n, How are you?” Sungchan walks in thankfully to redirect the conversation from turning into another unwanted life lesson. 

“Sungchan!” you gleam as you head over to him for a small hug. He was as much your friend as he was Eunseoks, the three of you grew up closely together so you could basically just consider him your other brother. “How come I don’t see your boyfriend running around here?” he asks suddenly. 

“We aren’t dating, and I don’t know. I guess he’s busy today.”  You shrug your shoulders. As if on cue you hear the doorbell ring and instinctively you know exactly who it is. “Y/N Anton is here.” You hear your mom yell from the living room. You find no use for either of the men in the kitchen anymore as you hurry towards the door to see your best friend of 6 years. 

“Hey?” You greet him happily. “Is he here? Well I'm guessing he is. I see his car.” He says shyly

“Just come in dummy.” You roll your eyes and back up from the door so he can fully walk in. He slips his shoes off before he follows you to the kitchen. “Oh there he is.” eunseoks laughs deeply when he addresses Anton. “Hey, you’ve gotten taller?” Sungchan asks while inspecting him. “No.” Anton says, shaking his head. “Are you sure, I don’t remember you being taller than me?” Sungchan adds measuring himself against him. 

“You ask this question every time you see him.” you laugh at sungchan, “That’s because he gets taller every time.” Sungchan argues back. 

“Shouldn’t you know if he’s gotten taller? He’s your boyfriend.” he teases. 

“We’re not dating,” You whine, but it’s not really convincing anyone.

“Yet.” He adds. 

“Alright you two.” Eunseok jumps in before you could throw anything at him, like you always do whenever you start arguing with him. “Eunseok, do you know you’re the best brother in the world.” You smile sweetly at him, buttering him up with your fluttering eyelashes. 

“What do you want?” 

“The keys to your car.” You say without any spaces, still fluttering your eyelashes and holding your hands together. “Pretty pretty please.” You add hoping to persuade him. And you know you’ve done it because he rolls his eyes and pulls the keys out of pocket to dangle them on top of your palms that you have held out for him. 

“No-” 

“Texting and driving, yes I know.” You say before he tries and sneak in yet another unsolicited life lesson. “And-” “call you if anything happens.” You say in monotone looking off to the side. “Hmm, Maybe I shouldn’t give them to you.” he begins but you stop him to beg. “No please please, I’ll call you if anything happens and I’ll keep my eyes on the road, I won’t even blink.” You plead. 

“Woah, but if you don’t blink your eyes will get dry and then yo-” “Shut up idiot.” You slap his arm and turn back to eunseok. “I’ll be careful, I promise.” 

“FIne.” he says before he places the keys into your hands. “I expect to see my car in one piece when I wake up in the morning.” “Yes sir.” You nod your head, before grabbing Antons arm and pulling him out of the door. 

The two of you end up in a random parking lot staring up at the stars. It’s silent for the first few moments. The only thing playing is the slow music coming from inside the car. There’s not really anything to say, with you and Anton being friends for so long you found that the both of you already knew everything there was to know about each other. 

So silences like this were comforting to you. Just being in each other's presence was enough for the both of you. “I love this song.” you say quietly. 

“Are you scared?” He ask randomly completely catching you off guard,

“Scared of what?” You finally turn to him. “I don't know, we'll be starting college soon, and I know things are gonna change, I’m just worried we’re gonna grow apart.” He explains. 

“We thought this same thing about highschool, and besides look at sungchan and eunseok. They’re still really close.” You say trying to calm his worries.  

“But they’re both guys. What happens when we start dating people? And we don’t have time for each other.” He continues, “I don’t know, I’m probably just overthinking.” 

“How about this,” You say sitting up to show that you were serious about what you were going to say next. “We make every second of this summer count, that way if college does draw us apart, We’ll still always have memories together.” 

“Deal.” He says as he smiles and links his pinky with yours. 

The best way to make memories is to try something you’ve never tried before, and  something that neither you or Anton have ever tried was alcohol. So that seemed like the perfect place to start. Now there was a small dilemma with this, no one in your family were drinkers. So the chances of you getting access to alcohol was extremely slim. 

Luckily you had a plan. 

“Where are we supposed to get fake IDs from?” Anton asks when you explain to him how the both of you were going to sneak into a bar down in the city. “Where else?” You respond with a smirk that he finds both scary and intriguing. 

“Oh hey sungchan.” You say casually as you waltz into the kitchen. “sup.” he bobs his head towards you.

“just out of peak curiosity, you wouldn’t know where to get an ID would you?”

“i might know someone, depending on who’s asking.” he cocks an eyebrow up to you. 

“Anton and I just need one for this event that’s happening downtown. Do you think you can get it to us by next week?”

“I can get it to you by tomorrow.” he says

“But Eunseok can’t find out about this.” you make it clear. “Of course not, do you think I'm crazy?” he asks, which warrants you to give him a knowing look. Wondering why’d he’d even ask that question as he was promising to get fake IDs to two 19 year olds. 

“Don’t answer that.” 

“When are you gonna start packing up?” Anton asks, looking around at your overly decorated room. There isn’t one empty space on your wall yet you always find space to hang up another poster. 

“I don’t know, I might just do what Eunseok did and leave all of this stuff here.” 

“Are you sure you can live without your collection?” He asks, pointing to the books you started collecting in middle school and were still accumulating. 

“No, those are coming with me.” 

“You know, you’re gonna have to move this stuff out eventually right?” 

“I know, I’m just not ready to see this room empty again.” You ponder while looking around the room. Something about it just gave you extreme nostalgia, this is where you grew up. This is where you had your first sleepover and where you went when you had your first “heartbreak.” (You sat in your room and cried for days because you didn’t get tickets to see your favorite band.)

  So seeing your room empty would really make things reality for you. Things really are changing, time is passing you by and you’re getting older. 

“Special delivery.” You don’t have to check to know exactly who’s standing on the other side of the door. Sungchan lets himself in, just as he always does. Butting into your room as if it was his own. “Look what I got?” he holds up a yellow envelope right in front of your eyes. 

“What is it?” Anton asks, walking up next to you.

“It’s our ID’s” you answer

“Our fake ones?” 

“Shh” you and sungchan both shush him at the same time, and you hurry to close the door before Eunseok could hear anything. 

“show me the stuff.” you whisper when Sungchan pulls out the ID and shows it to the both of you.

“Rachel owens?” you ask, looking at your ID. “You can’t reveal your real name. Quickest way to get caught.” he explains 

“Okay but I don't know how believable Brad Murray is.” Anton says, still looking at the hard plastic card. “what are they gonna do, tell you you’re wrong.” Sungchan responds 

“I don’t know, this whole idea just seems wrong. Maybe we should just wait till we’re of age to drink.” Anton says and it causes you and Sungchan to burst out into a laugh. 

“Wait till we’re of age?” you laugh, slapping sungchans arm “Who does this kid think he is?” Sungchan adds.

“Exactly that, a kid. We’re both kids, and we should just be kids.”

“Fine, I'll just go by myself then.” you throw your hands up  and head downstairs with sungchan following you and leaving Anton alone.

“I’m gonna head out.” You say casually passing by your mom and brother.

“you’re leaving, and you didn’t ask for my car?” Eunseok asks

“I won’t need it tonight, I'm taking an uber.” 

“an uber, where are you going?” Eunseok asks, stepping up to you. “we’re going to catch a movie, but it’s pretty long so we’ll probably be tired on the way back.” Anton answers for you, thankfully because you were going to just tell him that you were going grocery shopping. 

“Oh, Anton's going with you? enjoy your movie then.” You see that Eunseok loosens up when he realizes that Anton's tagging along with you and it makes you question. “Wait why'd you do that?” you turn to Eunseok 

“Do what?” 

“how come you didn’t ask questions when Anton said he was coming with me?”

“Because I trust anton.”

“you don’t trust me?” You ask genuinely but Anton doesn’t let you stick around to find out the answer because he’s dragging you out of the door. “I don't think he trusts me.” you say again 

“he doesn’t, no one does.” Anton states before turning around, closing the door.

“You don’t trust me?” You ask repeatedly, still confused.

“no, that’s why I'm not letting you go out alone.” 

you would argue more about how trustworthy you were but you knew that everything you were planning to say would have just been a lie. So you just get in the uber next to Anton and keep your mouth closed the entire ride. 

well for most of the ride. “So why don’t you trust me?” you ask when everyone’s dead silent. “We’re going to a bar with Fake IDs. and whose idea was this?” he states and it pretty much sums up everything for you

“That's fair.” you shake your head

“Why do I let you drag me into these kinds of things?” He looks out of the window and you turn to him. “You dragged yourself into this.”

“I miss when we used to stay up playing mario kart, now we’re sneaking out to bars.” He sighs dramatically 

“We just played mario karts an hour ago.”  you remind him

“and i wanna go back.”

“I didn't force you to come with me anton.”

“as the oldest of the two of us, it’s my duty to make sure that you’re safe.”

“you’re only older by a few weeks.” you say 

“I still need to make sure you stay safe.”

“If I wanted a bodyguard I would’ve just invited eunseok.” 

“Alright then, let’s call him up.” Anton says as he pulls out his phone to call your brother. Before he even unlocks it you feel your heart drop and you smack the phone out of his hand causing it to drop on the floor.

He looks at the phone then he looks at you. “Why would you do that?”

"If Eunseok finds out about this he’ll kill me. I’ll never be allowed to touch his car again, he’ll never shut up about it. he’ll make me show up to college wearing a shirt that says, “I’m an underage drinker.” he’ll ground me for years.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you decided to go out and get us fake IDs.” He snaps back while bending over to pick his phone up off the floor. 

“I just want us to do something different and new. Before we lose each other forever.” You force your voice to get lower, knowing that he’ll feel bad and lay off your case. 

“We won’t lose each other forever, we’ll always be friends.” 

“But we won’t be best friends. We've always wanted to get drunk together, this might be the last time we ever get to do that.” You mumble while looking out the window for dramatic effect. 

“We’ve never talked about getting drunk together.” 

“But we’ve always thought about it.” 

“I’ve always thought about playing mario karts for 24 hours straight.”

Hearing his response catches you off guard, you completely forget that you were trying to emotionally manipulate him out of snitching to Eunseok. He notices when you slowly turn your head and side eye him. “Mario Karts?” 

“You know what, maybe it’s a good thing we aren’t gonna be friends for long.” You add before he can say anything. 

“This is why your brother trusts me more than he trust you.” he spits back

“You think that’s a flex? it just makes you boring.” 

“You think I’m boring?" He asks aggressively.

‘I do. We all do.” 

“Who’s we?” he pipes up. 

“Me, sungchan, the uber driver.” You suddenly point to the man who’s been minding his business throughout the whole ride. 

“You think I’m boring?” Anton looks away from you and to the man. “I don’t know you, but you sound very unfun to be around.” The unnamed speaks calmly while keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Unfun?” Anton asks again.

“That’s what he said.” you chuckle 

“I’m not unfun!” He pouts, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. You’re too amused to really argue back with him. 

The rest of the car goes quiet yet again until Anton speaks up once more. “I hope you can hold your alcohol because I won't be carrying you back home.” 

“I can hold my alcohol” you say confidently although you’re really unsure, since you’ve never had any alcoholic drinks. 

The line to the club is just like you saw in the movies. It’s so long you think about just turning around and going back but Anton is still on his quest to prove just how fun he is, which is why he forces you to stand in the line with him. Until the both of you are face to face with a 7-foot-tall security guard who looks like he eats 5 dozen raw eggs and a horse for breakfast. 

“IDs.” is all he says but it has your heart beating outside of your chest. Both of you are hesitant to pull out the fakes you have in your wallet. Yet, you still pull yours out first and show it to the man, Anton following your lead. 

“This looks like a fake.” he says bluntly.

“A fake? ID? I didn’t even know those were real things.” 

“Obviously they're not real, that’s the problem.” Anton begins to start yet another argument with you; however he’s quickly hushed when the security guard yells “Brad.” and Anton begins looking around trying to find out who he’s talking about. To which you just facepalm and whisper “He’s talking to you idiot.” 

“Oh right, I’m Brad. Brad Murray, that’s me.” he straightens up. 

It’s painfully obvious that the both of you are lying that you don’t even try to hide it anymore. With the security guard looking down at both of you, you’re sure he’s gonna turn you away but he just sighs and passes your IDs back. 

“They don’t pay me enough for this.” he mumbles as he opens the rope to let you and Anton in. The music aggressively meets your ears before you even walk into the building. And you can smell the extreme scents of alcohol and whatever it is that people are doing inside of the place. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” stop in front of Anton, contemplating just going home. “Do you wanna go home?” He asks, and something about hearing him say makes you realize that’s not what you want to do. So you grab his hand and guide him all the way into the club where you could fully hear the music. 

It’s so loud that you can feel it through your feet. There's so much going on you don’t even know where to start, and the flashing lights are starting to make you dizzy. But it all excites you, the music, the lights, the alcohol everything is so exciting to you. 

“Let’s get drunk.” You yell to Anton first, but you don’t get a chance to go anywhere because he’s pulling you back by the hand that you still have intertwined with him. “Call me boring and unfun but I still don’t think this is a good idea.” 

“Well then you don’t have to drink.” You state before attempting to walk away again but he just pulls you right back, not letting you step away. “I don’t want you to either.” 

“Okay I won’t.” 

“You promise?” he holds his pinky finger out to you, but you only stare at it. Pinky promises were very dear to the both of you, in the 6 years that you’ve been friends neither of you have ever broken a pinky promise. And You knew that if you made this promise, you very well didn’t have the intentions on keeping it.

“I promise.” You say looking off to the side, and failing to link pinkies with his. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by him as he nudges his finger out to you so you can solidify the promise. “Come one Anton, just this one time.” Staring at him until he finally gives in and sighs. 

“Only one drink.’ He states firmly holding up his index finger to really drive his point. “Okay, fine. Only one.” 

30 minutes had passed and you had drunk way more than the both of you agreed on, in fact you had sweet talked some random man at the bar into paying for your drinks. Completely missing the look that Anton gives you every time you take another sip. 

Despite his annoyance with you, he still hasn’t let go of your hand. No matter how many times you tried to yank your hand away from him. Or tried talking and flirting with guys around you. He’d just pull you back towards him and claim you as his girlfriend so they wouldn’t try and take the initiative to flirt back.

“Isn’t this fun?” you slur resting your face against his back because you had lost your balance to stand up straight. “Are you having fun?” he asks, flipping the question back around on you. 

“Mm hmm.” You bounce your head up and down. “Lots of fun.” 

“How much have you had to drink?” He asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure that you were keeping up with the amount of alcohol you were consuming. “I had umm 3.” you stumble in front of him and hold three fingers up with a big smile. 

“No, you had this many.” He corrects while pulling up 7 more of your fingers. 

“10?” 

“It’s time to get you home.” 

“I’m not ready to go home.” you state while trying to wobble away from him, when you do you walk face first into some random man's chest and giggle when you fall into his arms. “Hi, wow you’re tall.” 

Anton thinks about just leaving you to face your own consequences but quickly changes his mind once he notices the strange man's hand placements and weird smile. There weren’t enough signs to show that he had bad intentions until he slipped his hands over your back jeans pockets and whispered something in your ear. That’s when Anton finally made the decision to jump in. 

“Sorry about her, she’s really drunk right now.” Anton politely speaks while pulling one of your arms so you could go back towards him. 

“She doesn’t seem too drunk.” The man says with his arm loosely around your waist. 

“She’s 19.” Anton adds hoping that it’d be enough to pull the man off of you. 

“Even better.” 

He had to protect you, that’s what he kept telling himself the whole ride home. He did it to protect you, any other normal person would’ve also resorted to violence if their best friend was being inappropriately touched by a man almost twice her age. 

He shouldn’t really feel bad, he knew you weren’t gonna remember anything when you woke up in the morning. You weren’t gonna remember how many drinks you had, or how you got home. And you definitely weren’t gonna remember how his knuckles got all bloody and bruised.

You turn onto your side and curve into a ball when he lays his blanket over top of you. It’s pretty dark but he can still make out small features of your face, and he can see when you open your eyes slightly to look at him. 

“Go to sleep.” he says, but you just kinda smile. 

“You’re really cute,” you say with a raspy voice, your eyes are too heavy to keep open but you try to do so anyways. Just so you can keep looking at the pretty soft spoken boy in front of you.

“I am so gonna make fun of you for this tomorrow.” He laughs but you don’t respond. You’ve already fallen back asleep and it doesn’t take too long for him to do the same, laying right beside you but leaving enough room in between the both of you. 

When you wake up in the morning you feel an immense amount of pain coming from all over your body. You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, or maybe even something bigger. A train. You don’t really have the strength to get up from your bed so you don’t even try. You just roll over and stare at the light blue painted walls. 

It takes a good 2 minutes for you to realize that your walls aren’t blue, and that the large panda teddy bear sitting on your bed isn’t yours. In fact this bed isn’t yours either. This is when you finally gain enough strength to finally sit up, and look around. Seeing that this isn’t your room at all. Who’s room is it? You’re not sure. It looks very familiar like you should know but you really don’t. 

In the time it takes to find out whose bed you're in, Anton walks in with a big warm bowl of your favorite oatmeal. “You’re awake.” He says when he sits down on the bed beside you. 

“Unfortunately.” you take a breath of relief when you see his face. 

“I made you oatmeal.” He places the bowl in front of you. 

“Thanks.” 

“Sorry I didn’t take you home, I figured you wouldn’t want your brother to see you drunk.” 

“Was I that bad?” Your voice is still strained from the night before 

“Yes.” 

“Did I do anything weird?” you ask but you don’t know if you’re ready to hear the answer. 

“You said I was cute.” 

“You?”  

“Trust me it was weird for both of us.” He lies. 

“Let’s just pretend like last night never happened. I’m never touching an alcoholic beverage ever again.” You state while mixing up your oatmeal. 

“Promise.” Anton asks with his pinky out towards you. 

“I promise.” You make sure you seal the deal this time, looping your pinky around his and rocking your hand a little to show you were very serious. 

“Good. cause it sucked having to carry you home.” He adds when you begin eating the oatmeal. 

“You carried me?” 

“Well how do you think you got here?”  He questions, through his smile

“I’m still sobering up, my thinking skills aren’t up to date.” 

“You know something, you’re actually kinda cute when you’re drunk.” 

“Shut up.” you scream covering your ears so you don’t have to hear anything else he says. 

You finally go back to your own home when the sun sets. That’s when you feel that you’re sober enough to face your brother without being suspicious.  Although no matter how sober you are, you’re always gonna be suspicious around him. 

“You’re back finally. How was the movie?” Eunseok greets you when you first walk in. 

“Movie?” you question, so Anton answers for you. 

“It was good for me atleast, but she fell asleep through most of it.” 

“Oh, you guys went to a movie? That’s very romantic.” Sungchan asks as he walks into the living room stuffing his face with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Despite knowing that there wasn’t any movie.

Neither of you take the time to argue with him. But it doesn't stop him from continuing.

"Did you hold hands?"

“No!” you finally answer him, and you expect Anton to do the same but he only snickers behind you, leaving you to defend yourself.

“I'm glad you guys enjoyed your date, go start packing so we can head to dads old cabin” Eunseok casually jokes, and it almost irritates you

“It wasn't a date.” you stomp but it doesn’t help you at all because they all laugh when your voice squeaks.

“Is that why you’re wearing his shirt?” Sungchan points out

you look down at the extremely oversized Harley davidson graphic tee that you have on. there isn’t even any explanation for this, sure you could tell them the truth. that you threw up all over your own clothes so he gave you his as a replacement. but it was probably best that you didn’t let your anger get the best of you this time.

So you proceed to change the subject instead. “We’re going to the cabin?” 

“Yeah, we’re driving out there tonight. So hurry.” He rushes you. 

The cabin belonged to your dad before he died, he liked it because it was hidden in the woods. Away from the city that your mom loved so much. It balanced perfectly because it was a 30 minute ride away from the house and he enjoyed a good drive.

He’d often go out there on the weekends with Eunseok and go fishing. While you stayed with your mom and visited the small boutiques nearby. That’s what influenced your father to leave the cabin to Eunseok seeing that he’d probably get more use out of it than you would. 

The cabin was pretty outdated but it had enough room for the four of you to stay for a few nights. You weren’t too fond of the old place but what you did like was the lake in the back. You liked the way it mirrored the sky during sunrises. Or the way the moon reflected off the ripples of the water. 

“okay so here are the rules.” Eunseok begins but he doesn’t get to finish because the rest of you are already grunting aloud.

“alright alright, I won’t go over the rules. because I assume all of us are adults and we would know how to behave ourselves.”

“Great, I'm sharing the room with Anton.” you call dibs by looping your arm around him and pulling him closer to you.

“you guys are never beating the dating allegations.” Sungchan mutters at how tightly you have your arm around Anton’s.

“You'll never kiss a girl in your life.” you spit at him

“At least my only love interest isn’t my best friend.” He gestures quotations around the word best friend.

“Okay okay.” Eunseok holds his hands out to stop an argument from growing. “It looks like we definitely need to go over the rules.”

“no need.” Anton speaks up. “we’ll be behaved.”

“Yes we will.” you add, resting your head on Anton’s shoulder to block out the faces that Sungchan makes to you from behind Eunseok. 

“and you?” your brother turns to his friend.

“I'll be good.” He turns his attention away from you the second Eunseok looks at him. 

“Alright, then we’ll call it a night.” Eunseok doesn’t expect for any of you to say anything else, so he walks away to his shared room with Sungchan and leaves you alone with Anton.

“We should go swimming.” you whisper when you’re sure Eunseok can’t hear you.``it’s 11 pm.” Anton tries to stop you. 

“even better.” 

“You can’t swim,” he tries again but it still doesn’t work. 

he should’ve known better by now. This was the dynamic of your friendship. You'd come up with a crazy idea and he'd try to talk you out of it but fails every time. 

You ease your way into the lake taking one step after another. The water is cold but the heat from the summer night helps your body adjust easily the more you walk in. Trying not to slip on the rocks until your body is completely submerged under water. your feet are still grounded so it helps keep your head at the water's surface. 

“feels good.” you say looking up to Anton who isn’t convinced. 

“If you drown, I'm not jumping in to save you.” he confirms with his arms crossed against his chest. 

“I'm not gonna drown.” You continue swimming around

“good cause i’m not gonna save you.”

“You should get in.”

“It’s dark, there’s probably snakes in there,” It’s obvious that he wants to but he refuses. instead taking a seat on the dock where the little old is so that he could just watch you swim by yourself.

which you do for a while, pushing your arms around you to keep yourself afloat. There’s nobody to accompany the two of you other than the singing owls and blue white light of the moon. 

“You’re so boring.” 

“That's not gonna work this time, the last time you tried that trick I had to fight some guy.”

“you fought someone?” you ask trying to float back 

“It wasn't a real fight, I just punched him a few times. I don’t really know if I could call it a fight because he didn’t hit back. well, he didn’t get the chance to.” 

He begins to start mumbling to himself and misses the fact that you haven’t been responding. When he finally notices and looks up in your direction, all he can see is your hands waving in the air as if you need help. 

but you always play stupid tricks like these so he just laughs at you, assuming that this was another one of your pranks. “I'm not falling for that.” 

“you’re a bad actor.” he continues to laugh at how committed you seem to be to this bit. However after 12 seconds he observes that you’ve been underwater for some time. which starts to worry him. 

“Y/n?” he calls out just once, and immediately jumps in when you don’t respond. Swimming right to you and picking you up in his arms so you can catch some air first. You have to cough the water out of your lungs before you could even get a breath of air. Chest heaving up and down and your eyes closed tightly shut as she swims you back to the dock and sits you down.  

You’re still coughing when he pulls himself out of the lake to sit down beside you and make sure you’re okay, which he had already told you he wasn’t going to do. And he doesn’t just stop there. He leaves you by yourself for a little bit, but only to go get a few towels that he can wrap around you and dry you off himself. 

Almost drowning takes a lot of your energy, so you don’t do anything to help him help you; you just stare at him while he takes the towel to dry your hair. Neither one of you says anything for a while until he carries you back into the cabin and lays you down on your side of the bed. 

“Now you’re gonna have dreams about drowning.” He laughs and sit up to dry himself off. 

“I wasn’t drowning, I was just trying to do a cartwheel underwater.” you lie, leaned back against the pillow and watching him remove his extremely soaked shirt. 

“Sure you were.”

“I really was.” You try to defend yourself again, but he still doesn’t believe you. It’s no use acknowledging that he literally saved your life because even though you were very grateful, you already knew he would, and also, this was going to be something else that he’s never going to shut up about. 

“What would you do without me?” 

“You might’ve saved my life once...”

“twice.” he corrects

“don’t flatter yourself.” you smile, gently smacking his arm.

Anton wakes up in the morning to find that you’re sitting by the window, staring at the way the sunrise shines off the lake. Your chin is rested on your knees, which are pressed to your chest and chained together by your arms. 

“You’re up early." Anton crawls to the part of the bed where you are and sits beside you, close enough for you to lay your head on his arm. “I love the sunsets up here.” You speak low enough for it to be classified as a whisper. 

He hums to show that he acknowledges what you have said. But there is just something about sitting in silence with each other that both of you love. Nothing has to be said, and there aren’t even any thoughts. But just knowing that he’s there right next to you is more comforting than anything else in the world. 

“Wait, did you really fight someone?” You question, suddenly lifting your head from his arm. 

“It’s no big deal.” He brushes off, however you don’t buy it as you angle your entire body towards him. “Anton, you could’ve died.” 

“No, actually I- wait what are you trying to say?”

“You can’t fight, even I can pin you down.” 

“That’s because I always let you win.” 

“Sure.” you say rolling your eyes. 

“I can prove it.” he stands up in front of you. As if he’s actually ready to start a wrestling match.

“There’s no—" You don’t get to say anything because he’s begun playfully attacking you. ��You don’t have to prove anything,” you yell in your defense while still putting all your force into holding him down, just as you always do. 

Yet this time is different, and you realize that when he hovers over top of you with both of your arms pinned to the bed right above your head. You weakly try to pull yourself out, but it doesn’t work. And then you make the mistake of looking up at him, your heart jumping when you do. 

His face is unusually close to yours, so close that you stop breathing and feel like you have nowhere else to look but at him. Both of you are too stunned to say anything at first, and when you finally take the initiative to speak first, it comes out almost in a whisper. 

“Okay you win.” 

“Yeah.” He says looking away from your eyes and down at your lips. 

“So you can get off of me now.”  You say once again trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the underlying urge to see if his lips feel as soft as they look. 

“Yeah, sorry.” he mutters while rolling off of you and taking a seat besides you, neither of you say it but you both make a mental note to never speak of that interaction again. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks while avoiding eye contact. 

“A little, I’ll go see If Eunseok is awake.” You say quickly jumping off the bed and running towards the door.   

It’s night two of three, when you walk into the room where Anton is seated on the bed trying to get through a 3 minute video, that seems longer because it won’t stop buffering every 10 seconds due to the very bad wifi connection. 

You turn and lock the door behind you before getting Antons attention. “Wanna try this?” You ask, holding up the plate of brownies. 

“A brownie? Sure.” 

“No but it’s not any brownie, It’s a magical brownie.” you add, to make sure that he knew what he was getting himself into. “Magical? Like Jack's magical beans?” He asks while reaching for a brownie. 

“No you idiot, they’re edibles.” 

“Where’d you even get these from?” He asks. 

“Sungchan gave them to me.” You answer while splitting the brownie and passing the smaller half to him. 

“He said we shouldn’t eat the whole thing.” You add before taking a bite and watching him take his. 

“But why would he give us four of them if we can’t eat the whole thing?” Anton asks 

“Maybe I heard him wrong.” You think aloud. 

By the time you finished eating all of the brownies you definitely felt the effects. Sitting legs crossed in front of Anton and just staring at him until you swore you could see his thought bubbles. “You know something…” You say leaning in closer to him, still analyzing the small features of his face. 

“You have a really big nose.” You finish while tilting your head to the side.

“You have really pretty eyes.” He combats

“Okay.” You say ignoring his complement. Walking on your knees to sit directly on his lap. 

“What are you doing?” He’s confused but his hands go directly to your waist to keep you bound. “Let’s have sex.” You say. 

“What?” 

“You don’t wanna go into college a virgin do you?” You try to convince him. 

“I’m not a virgin.” He states questionably. So questionably that if you didn’t already know, you would’ve known from his tone alone that he was in fact a virgin. 

“Yeah right.” 

“I’m not.” He lies again. 

“Shut up and kiss me.” You yell and he obeys, well partly. He only places a small kiss on your lips and finishes with a pat using the tips of his fingers. 

“Wow?” you mutter

“I know, I’m a great kisser.” He boast on himself

“No, You suck.” 

“Like you know? You’ve never kissed anyone.” 

“No, but I know that’s not how you do it.” You say still sitting in his lap with your hands on each of his shoulders. 

“Well you show me how it’s done.” just as fast as he finishes your lips are on his.

Giving him your first kiss and initiating a 30 minute make out session. Until you both fall asleep on the floor, with you wrapped in his arms. 

Falling asleep in his arms wasn’t new. You’d done it plenty of times. however, in those many times, you were completely sober. So you never had to question whether or not you guys had sex.

You’re not naked, you know that much. so that must mean that nothing happened. but you very much remember telling him that you guys should have sex, and your last memory of the night was making out on the floor until you started to think that you might actually like him as more than a friend. 

“we didn’t… do anything right?” you ask sitting up and looking back down at him. 

“I don't remember.” he replies 

“Neither do i.”

“The edibles aren’t supposed to plague or memory right?”

“I don't think so.”

and then it goes silent for a minute. right before the both of you start arguing.

“we had sex, oh my god i can’t believe i had sex with you.” you get up and start pacing 

“Well you’re the one who came up with the idea.”

“I was high! plus you agreed. Why did you agree?”

“I was also high.”

“our friendship is ruined, we can’t ever speak to each other again.”

“Wait. really?” he pauses to look at you.

“don’t you understand what this means? we’ll fall in love with each other. it’s inevitable. there’s no solution.”

“We could just date.” he blurts out and stares at you as if he’s waiting for a legitimate answer.

“Why would we do that?” You say after staring at him in silence. 

“doesn’t it just make sense?” he throws his hands up. 

“no it doesn’t, we don’t like each other.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” He plops down on the bed. 

“We should forget about it.” 

To make matters worse, sungchan walks in right when you’ve started to calm yourself down about the idea of ruining your friendship.

“oh by the way i forgot to warn you guys, the brownies are high in… something that makes you horny. but you don’t have to worry about it, you guys are immune to that stuff.”

“yeah… we don’t have to worry about it.” You try to convince him but it doesn’t work. 

“You had sex didn’t you?” 

“no.” “yes.” you and Anton say at the exact same time, turning to look at each other before changing your answers.”yes.” “no”

“We don't know.” you answer solo this time. “I remember suggesting it and then we… I don't wanna talk about it.”

“Well, there’s only one thing left to do now.” Sungchan walks in fully and closes the door behind him. you don’t know what he’s about to say but you know it’s serious. “You have to date now.”

“That's what I was saying.” Anton says, throwing his arms up.

“No.” You turn and point your index finger to him and then back to Sungchan. “No.”

“No, we’ll just pretend like nothing happened, and Eunseok will never ever find out about this.” 

Your plan to keep Eunseok from finding out wasn’t particularly solid. You walk out to the living space where he’s setting out the dishes for breakfast. He's not the best cook but it’s at least edible, sometimes. you’d usually tease him about it, but you’re caught completely off guard when he goes “there you guys are, I was worried something happened with all the noise you were making last night.”

“uh…” Anton stumbles across his words, he’s standing like a deer stuck in headlights. 

“We were practicing, hand…stands.” You start to think of a lie to explain the noise he heard yesterday. 

“Handstands?” Eunseok doesn’t even look at you.

“He doesn’t know how to do a handstand.” you say pointing to Anton. 

“That’s a relief I thought you were doing something else.” He still isn’t facing you. But he knew the exact reaction he was gonna get from you. 

“Something else?”

“He’s a boy, you’re a girl. You like boys, he likes girls.” He explains. 

“We didn’t have sex.” You blurt out suspiciously 

“I didn’t say you did.” 

“But if we did.” Anton speaks up, despite the looks that you're shooting him from the corner of your eye to signal him to shut up.

“What would you suggest?” he continues 

“Well then, you would just have to date.” Eunseok finally turns around to face you. Warranting your heart to drop to your stomach. You think you might just shit yourself right there. “But that’s just hypothetical of course.” he adds. 

“We wouldn’t have to date. We could let it go and act like we never did it.” 

“That wouldn’t work, the second you two even share a kiss you’re bound to fall in love.” Eunseok says. 

That exact statement circulates your mind the entire day. You couldn’t fall in love with Anton, it just wouldn’t make sense. You don’t even see him that way, and you don’t imagine you ever will. 

The rest of the day goes by and you’re still thinking about what may or may not have happened between you and your best friend last night. Keeping a safe distance just in case. Although it definitely seems to bother you more than it bothered him, because while you were still racking your brain of everything that happened the night prior, he’s just sitting in the corner of the room playing Mario karts. 

“I think I just need to sleep.” You say heading towards the bed.

“I think that’s a good idea, I'm getting tired too.” he gets up to stretch before walking to the bed behind you. 

“what are you doing?” you stop to ask

“I'm going to bed.” He says casually, staring at you as if he truly couldn’t understand why you’d be so hostile about him sleeping in the same bed as you. 

“We can't sleep in the same bed.” You shake your head

“Why not? We sleep together all the time.”

“Don’t! say that.” you shush him with your index finger. “Okay, you take the bed, and I'll go take the couch.”

“The bed is big enough for both of us.” He looks at you when you walk closer towards the door. 

“Why are you making this so hard?” You facepalm

“I'm just trying to get some sleep, you’re the one making this hard.”

You take a deep breath before speaking again, whispering as if someone could hear you through the walls. "What if we… again.”

“if we?” He asks 

“You know, what if we..” you hold your hands up to make sexual gestures just so he’d understand what you were finally getting to. Yet he’s still staring at you like he just doesn't get it.

“What if we have sex again Anton, what if we have sex.” you finally just say throwing your arms down in frustration.

And you bicker for a good 15 more minutes until you finally cave in and just take the bed. His winning argument being that it’s hard for him to sleep alone since he didn’t have his stuffed panda with him. To which you replied, “You should’ve grown out of that phase years ago.” While still stuffing yourself under the sheets besides him. 

September 6th 2015, is the exact date you met Anton. You remember because you still have the initial test that you copied off of him. It was the first time you’d ever made a perfect score on a test, and while you were proud of yourself your mom grew very suspicious. 

You knew him before then, but you never thought to speak to him until he caught you cheating off his paper and threatened to tell the teacher. Leaving you with no other choice but to bribe him with dinosaur chicken nuggets. Which honesty was a win for you because your mom loved to pack them for you for lunch and you just didn’t have the heart to tell her that you hated them. 

Since then, the two of you were attached at the hip, navigating both middle school and high school together. 

You liked to remind yourself of that often, it made you feel better about the rest of life. Because you were soon to be an adult and it was horrifying to you. Even though you had your mom, your brother and Sungchan. It’s just reassuring to know that you had Anton, who was equally as scared as you were. 

Listening to music through your black headphones, you sat in your room. The one place in the whole world where you could truly feel at ease. Where your walls are plastered with posters and your bed is never made. You were lucky to spend less than 5 minutes searching for anything within the 4 corners of your own space. But you loved it nonetheless. 

You tried to listen to anything that would take your mind off of the event that happened over the weekend, however you were shit out of luck because every song on your playlist either talked about kissing or directly described the friends to lover's pipeline. 

Throwing your headphones off, you huff and throw yourself back to stare at the ceiling. Dragging both of your hands down your face. Your friendship with Anton was easily one of the best things you had in your life and you were actively ruining it. 

This is actually extremely stressful. 

Usually when things got this stressful, you’d go to your loyal confidant, but since you couldn’t go to him you go to the internet instead. crawling towards your laptop to look up advice from others who had gone too far with their best friend. 

There were over 7,340,000 results, in which you had rapidly read through at least a hundred of them. There’s all different answers ranging from “there’s no way to mend the friendship.” to “the awkward sexual makes it too hard to bear, the only solution is to cut them off.” Each website you click on makes your gut feel like it’s turning inside out. 

The thought of having to lose Anton as a friend makes your heart feel like it’s getting stomped on by a 10 foot giant. Your eyes are flooding with tears thinking about the small irrevocable mistake that the both of you shared when you weren’t in the right state of mind.

Until you click on one last link that catches your attention. 

“Just continue seeing each other as friends, overtime it’ll sort itself out.”

Just seeing the words on your screen alone is enough to feel like a nice warm hug. Drying your eyes and reading the message over until you finally start to believe that everything is actually gonna be okay.

You get up off your bed when someone gently knocks at your door, you know who it is because it’s the only person who ever knew to knock. 

“Come in.” You try to mask the sorrow in your voice, and it works just barely enough for Eunseok to not catch on. 

“Hey, just wondering if you're gonna come down for dinner.” He says only peeking through the doorway. “Yeah, I’ll be down there soon.” You begin to start looking around your bed for absolutely nothing, just so he couldn’t see how red and puffy your eyes were while crying. 

“Okay, don’t be long. Also, Antons's downstairs waiting for you.” He adds. 

“Antons here.” You quickly turn around to face him, no longer caring if he could tell that you had been sobbing just a few minutes before. Something about just hearing his name causes your heart to beat faster and your lips to turn up into a smile. 

“Oh wait, he's right here.” Eunseok says backing up so your closest friend could walk in behind him. He could immediately tell you had been crying, you knew he could. Because his soft smile drops into an expression of empathy, but not yet saying anything until he knew that you had the room to yourselves. 

“I’ll leave you guys, but don’t forget to come eat dinner with us.” He says once more before he closes the door. Giving you the privacy Anton’s been waiting for. 

“Were you crying?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

“No.” You lie. 

“I didn’t mean to bother you, I got a little nervous when you hadn’t texted me at all-.” He stops his rambling when you take a seat on your bed and look up at him. He thinks you’re about to cry again but you're just happy to see that nothing has changed between the both of you. 

“I was just scared that we were gonna lose our friendship.” You mumble just a little. 

“We’ve gone through worse, like the time that I pretended to forget your birthday and you stopped talking to me for a whole month.” he kneels in front of you so you don’t have to look up at him. 

The memory makes you laugh a little. Remembering how upset you were, and how he baked you a homemade cake just to get you to forgive him. 

“Could you just promise me that no matter what we’ll always be friends.” You ask, your voice still a little shaky from your crying session. Pinky held out towards him because you know that under no circumstance will the promise be broken. 

“I promise that we’ll be best friends forever.” He links his pinky onto yours, but it doesn’t last for long because you’re already throwing your arms around him to engulf him in a big hug. 

topping him over a little as he softly laughs. 

“But, we should probably lay off the edibles and do something normal.” He waits until you’re pulled away from and seated back onto your bed. “like a movie.” he suggests

“deal,” You nod.

If it were anyone else, this would be considered a date. It had the same feel as a date, you’re sitting in your room trying to find an appropriate outfit and fix your hair. When Sungchan yells from downstairs. “Y/n your boyfriends here.” Causing you to glance in the mirror once more before you run down the stairs to meet him. 

Neither of you care to argue with Sungchan, only paying attention to each other. “You look really pretty.” Anton speaks first, looking down at you. “Thanks.” you smile at him, but the smile doesn’t do justice to the fluttering butterflies that you feel in your stomach. 

“Here’s the keys.” Eunseok places them into your hand without you even having to ask. “Really.” you tame yourself from jumping up and down. 

“Don’t be out too late, and don’t crash my car.” He states, pointing his index finger at you. 

“We won’t.” You head to the front door, when Sungchan yells one last time. “Enjoy your date.” 

“What movie are we going to see by the way?” You ask only once you get into the car. 

“You’ll see.” is all he says, and it makes you beg him for more information. “Could you atleast give me a hint.” 

“It’s over an hour long.” 

“Oh, thanks Anton, that helps.” You sarcastically say, while starting the car. “I think you’ll like it.” He says last.

Anton’s checking in the movie’s ticket while you’re sitting in the back just watching him, there’s no one else in the main area besides the employees, Anton, you and the stranger that walks up from behind you and compliments the shirt that you're wearing. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” The man asks

“Yeah, I’m here with my friend.” You point towards Anton who’s staring intently at your interaction with the man in front of you. “He’s getting our tickets.” you add before turning your attention back to the stranger. “Are you single? By chance?” He asks suddenly but it flatters you. 

The boy is smaller than what you’d describe as your type, but he’s cute and he looks very friendly. He has hair that you think you could spend hours playing in, and it’d be nice to get an actual boyfriend so Sungchan and Eunseok didn’t tease you about Anton. 

“Yeah, I am.” You smile up at him as you stand up. “My name is Y/n.” You add, holding your hand out for him to shake. “My name is Sohee.” He’s about to connect hands with yours but Anton does it first as he stands besides you. Towering over both of you. 

“We have to hurry and catch the movie.” He speaks only to you first, until you look at Sohee and back at him. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t see you here.” He lies.  

“I don’t wanna hold you up.” Sohee says, particularly paying attention to the way Anton gently and subtly interlocks his fingers with yours. “Sorry about that.” You apologize sincerely. 

“It’s no problem, I hope you enjoy the movie.” He says last before Antons dragging you off. 

“Who was that?” he asks as you go down the hallway to find out which movie room was showing the movie that you intended to see. “He said his name was Sohee, I thought he had really nice hair.” You look up at Anton. 

“I also have nice hair.” He whines. 

“No, I mean his hair looks so soft.” 

“And mine doesn’t.” He turns to look down at you. 

“This isn’t about you.” You giggle. It takes for the both of you to walk into the movie room together for you to realize that he still hadn’t told you what movie you were gonna be watching. You don’t ask now, because you figure that you’ll just find out when it starts playing. 

However, once you take your seat right besides your best friend all the way in the back. You miss the title of the movie because you’re too fixated on the fact he hadn’t let go of your hand since he grabbed it earlier. Watching the way he mindlessly rubs his thumb in slow and gentle circles around the back of your hand. 

You’d pull away and scold him, but it actually felt nice. So you just rest your head on his arm and continue to watch the rest of the movie. 

It was easy forgetting about the 11 pm fiasco in the cabin. You guess Anton was right, your friendship has seen worse. And now you feel kinda silly remembering how you cried thinking about the ending of your friendship. 

If that was even possible, because as long as you’ve known Anton you knew there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do just to talk to you. Even now when he snuck himself into your room, for nothing else but to show you the memory box that he found buried deep beneath his bed. 

Neither of you remember when you started making it, but both of you were glad to have it. The box was filled with random inanimate objects that actually helped to build the friendship that you have now. Things ranging from the test that brought you together in the first place. 

To the small purple transparent lighter that you intended to use as a prop for your magic trick. But actually, almost became an accessory to arson. You were trying to recreate one of those fire throwing acts that you saw on tv however you got a little too carried away and set one of the towels on fire in your bathroom. 

In Anton’s defense he told you over and over again that you shouldn’t do it. In your defense? You didn’t have one. 

The box is filled with not only random memory sakes, but also tons of pictures of the two of you from when you got your first polaroid for christmas. 

The first one you come across is a picture that Eunseok took of you and Anton in your Halloween costumes.

 You’d spent months convincing Anton to go with you as Jack Skellington and Sally because of your small obsession with Tim Burton at the time. 

He agreed but it wasn’t at all an easy task. And you didn’t even know he would agree until he showed up to your front door with face paint and a very unamused frown. It didn’t phase you at all though because you jumped up and down while giggling and clapping, completely missing the small growing smile that he was gaining just from knowing that you were happy and he was the cause of it. 

“Aren’t Jack and Sally a couple?” Sungchan questions when you hand Eunseok your polaroid and ask him to take a picture of you. 

“Duh.” you say oblivious to the point he’s trying to make. 

“So if you’re Jack and you’re sally…” he points to you as he says “Doesn't that make you a couple.” He finishes with a grin. “No, it’s a costume you idiot.” You yell at him, reaching for your shoe to throw at him. 

You’re ready to fight but Anton only looks down at you and smiles at how easily angry you got. And that’s exactly when Eunseok takes the picture. 

Anton watches your subtle smile as you flip through each of the polaroids, he begins to mirror your smile when you look up at him and giggle softly. “Oh look at this one.” You hold one of the pictures just inches away from his eyes where he could barely see. 

Rather than just taking the photograph out of your hand to see it better, he wraps his hand around your wrist and backs it up to a better angle. The gesture is very simple but you don’t fail to notice that he’s rubbing the tip of his thumb back and forth over your skin. 

“I remember this.” he laughs, looking at the photo. You feel a bit of coolness fall over you when he lets go of your arm to look through the rest of the box. Which you think to do after staring at him for 5 seconds too long. Flipping though the rest of the polaroids in your hand, when you come across another picture. 

This one isn’t from your camera. It’s a picture your mom took of you when you invited him over to the house for the first time. She was so happy that you had finally made a friend, she didn’t even care that she was actively embarrassing you. Sneaking pictures, and watching behind walls whenever you had finally built some gut to actually talk to him. 

It was so long ago, and you were so young. It’s fun to think about now, but it’s even better to think about how long you’ve known him. 

“Isn’t it crazy that we’ve been friends for so long and neither of us has a crush on eachother.” You ask, still looking down at the picture. 

“Yeah.” He laughs 

When you look up you see your best friend, the one person outside of your family that stuck with you through thick and thin. Who held you every time you cried and dried your tears to tell you that everything was going to be alright. Who, no matter what, never made you feel like a burden or like you were too much. Who made it obvious over and over again that they’d do anything to keep you happy. 

You see Lee Anton. 

He’s meant to be in your life, you’re very sure of it. Because no one understood you like he did, and no one ever will as long as he’s alive. No one defended you like he did, and you don’t care to learn if anyone else might.

But as time went on, the lines started to blur. Because you want to kiss him now, and you’re not sure if you want to do it as his best friend or something more. Gradually leaning in closer to him until your lips just barely touch.  

He takes the initiative to go all the way. Furthering the kiss, you have to grab onto his shoulders to keep yourself stable. 

You can’t explain it but this just feels right, or better yet, it definitely didn’t feel wrong. 

Your eyes are still closed when you pull away, but the instant you open them he mutters. “I love you.” Causing you to get up and jump away from him as if he was infected with a contagious deadly disease. 

“You ruined it.” You yell at him, loud enough for him to know how startled you are but not enough for anyone outside of the room to hear. 

“I’m sorry!” he pleads. Within a few seconds he’s standing over you so you have to look up at him. For as long as you knew him he’d always been taller than you, it was so obvious that everyone else pointed out the extreme height difference. Well, everyone but you. 

“Why would you say that?” You throw your arms down. 

“I don’t know, it just came out.” 

“You don’t mean it, do you?” You ask, but this time you aren’t yelling and your voice is calmer. 

“Of course, I mean it. We’ve been friends for years and I love you.” 

“Stop saying that!” 

“Do you love me?” His voice is softer than usual and you hate it, there’s just no way you could give him any other answer outside of the one he’s asking to hear. Yet and still you can’t give him anything because you’re not even sure yourself. 

“Do you?” he asks again, breaking the long period of silence. 

“Could you just kiss me again?” You ask, and he listens. Just as he always does because you’re his best friend and all he wants is to make you happy. 

The question never quite left your mind. "Did you love him?” No. “Do you love him?" The obvious answer is yes. It'd be impossible to not love someone that you've been close friends with for just a little less than half your life. Someone that knew almost everything about you. 

But this was a more complicated question. Because you know he wasn't asking if you love him as a best friend, and that wasn't an answer you were ready to find out. If you loved him any differently than a friend, then it would change everything. 

That's what you're afraid of. 

Although, it's a little too late to be scared for the friendship if you're even questioning it in the first place. 

It’s been two days since that night, but neither of you had the balls to bring it up again. Seems as if you were getting better at pretending things never happened. You could try and say that things hadn’t changed at all, but that’d be a lie. 

Usually you liked the comfort of your own room, but the more you spent in there alone the more you felt that the silence was getting too loud for your own good, and the very last thing you needed right now was to be alone in your thoughts. 

So for once you decided to sit in the living room and enjoy the presence of your brother and his best friend. Sitting further away from both of them on the sofa with your legs pressed up against your chest. There weren’t any intentions of interacting with either of them, you just needed to get around somewhere that wasn’t ear ringing quiet. 

But every part of you wishes you would’ve just stayed in your room, when you become the topic of discussion. 

“Are you texting your boyfriend?” Sungchan teases per usual. 

“No.” Is all you say, hoping that if you don’t give him the attention he wants, he’ll leave you alone. He doesn’t but what were you expecting, he was like your annoying brother after all. “You didn’t deny that he was your boyfriend.” 

“He isn’t.” You mumble, still not looking up from your phone. 

“Is something wrong?” Eunseok asks, and you can easily tell that he’s really concerned. But you just cannot force yourself to tell him that something is bothering you because you know he’ll wanna help. And this just wasn’t a matter that you needed nor wanted him to help you with. 

“No, just kinda tired.” You begin to say but sungchan talks over you and asks a question that makes your heart drop. 

“Is this about the kiss with Anton?” He pipes up randomly. 

“You kissed?” Eunseok takes turns questioning you, and just when you’re about to answer him Sungchan once again speaks over you. “Yeah, but they were both high so it doesn’t really count.” 

“High?” This time he’s jumping out of his seat. 

By now your heart is beating loud enough to hear, there’s no way to talk yourself out of this so you don’t even try. Only preparing yourself for what’s to come.  

“You were high?” 

“Before you start, just know that I’m sorry and I already made the decision to never do it again.” 

“Wait, don't be too hard on her, I’m the one who gave them the brownies.” Sungchan butts in an attempt to protect you. “I’ll deal with you later.” Your brother points to him, and turns his attention back on you. 

“Why did you do it in the first place? I told you to stay away from drugs.” He begins raising his voice at you. That might have been when you started crying, you think. But it’s still unclear, because all you could think about was how shitty you felt to have disappointed him. 

“This isn’t a game Y/n that stuff is bad, what will you do when you get to College and everyone around you is doing it?  Are you gonna do it too?” He continues to shout, 

“No, I told you I wasn’t ever gonna touch it again.” You cry, 

“How am I supposed to believe that? You’re not giving me any reason to trust you.” 

The words he spit out of his mouth were like small but extremely sharp swords. Piercing into your heart all at once, you don’t even have the strength in your voice to speak anymore, so your next sentence comes out shaky and a little squeaky. “Did you ever trust me?” 

“Why would I?” That’s the very last sword to impale your beating muscle,  you can imagine that air was just ripped out of your lungs. Leaving you to suffocate alone. If there was one thing you hated in the whole world it was being scolded by your older brother. 

Simply because you weren’t used to getting yelled at by anyone else. Your mom was always very soft spoken, and your dad died before you ever got the chance to really disappoint him. So that left Eunseok, he didn’t shout at you often. But when he did, it hurt. 

Anton’s the one person you went to every time you felt like this, so it was a no brainer that that’s where you’d end up now. 

When you knock on his door still in your pajamas and cheeks stained with tears, he doesn’t even question you. Only holding his arms out for you to claim your spot close to his chest so he could embrace you with the warm and endearing hug that you needed most. 

“He’s just looking out for you.” He speaks tenderly, once you finally calmed yourself down enough to explain everything. You always liked how soft his voice was, it was the very thing that made you wanna befriend him in the first place. Even though you made fun of him for it all the time, it was times like these when you really appreciated it. 

“I just hate that I disappointed him, now he’ll never trust me.” You continue to sob into his chest. 

He lets you cry for another 40 minutes until you fall asleep with your face flat against his chest. Your cheeks are still damp and a bit puffy but even now he finds himself struggling to pull his eyes away from you.

Unfortunately he’s forced to when there’s a knock at the front door, and Anton has to slide himself from under you so you don’t wake up. He knows exactly who’s on the other side of the door but he opens it anyway. 

“Is Y/n here?” eunseok asks, already knowing the answer. You wouldn’t go anywhere else. 

“No. why, did something happen?” Anton masks his lies with faux concern. “We just got into an argument kind of. I just wanna make sure she’s okay.” Eunseok continues.

Anton looks back at your sleeping figure and faces Eunseok. Feeling no need to hold up the lie he says, “Yeah, she’s fine.” 

“Thank you… for taking care of her.” 

“Of course.” 

Anton closes the door when Eunseok walks away. He watches you for some short moments before leaving to go find a blanket to drape over you just in case you were feeling chilly in your sleep. And sitting on the couch beside you so you didn’t have to be alone. 

Anyone with a sibling would know that arguments don’t last for long. But this one did, you knew what you did was wrong but you also don’t want to apologize. So you just pretend like he doesn’t exist for the following week. 

He tried nonstop for the first two days but gave up after you just stared directly in his face without a word when he offered you the keys to his car, and unlimited access for the rest of the summer. 

“What do you wanna watch?” Anton asks with one hand navigating the laptop and the other playing through your hair. Your body is pressed close against his, so much so you can hear his heartbeat. And he can feel the vibrations of your voice when you hum “I don’t know, you can choose.” 

“How about a cartoon?” He scrolls his pointer down to Tom and jerry. 

“Not that one.” You mutter when it begins to play. 

“Okay, what about the incredibles?” He asks 

“I don’t like the incredibles.” you speak into his chest. 

“Mickey mouse?” 

“We’re not children, Anton.” 

“Well, what do you wanna watch?” he shifts his body to look down at you, his frustration growing when you look back up at him. “I don’t know, but I don’t wanna watch that.” 

“You don’t wanna watch anything.” He huffs. 

“Just choose something good.” Both of you are bickering with each other but keeping your positions, his hand is still tangled in your hair, and you're still face to chest with him. You look up in sync when Eunseok passes by your room to get to his own, however he doesn’t make it to his room yet because he stopped to watch the two of you bicker. 

If he didn’t know any better he’d think that the both of you were dating.  Funny thing is, he really didn’t know any better. So he stood there in shock staring at you two together holding a half sandwich right in front of his mouth. 

“What are you looking at?” You spit, after a small moment of awkward silence. 

As soon as the words leave your mouth you realize exactly what he’s looking at, because you look up at Anton and jump away a second later. Not noticing how it looked from a different point of view. 

  Eunseok walks away immediately with a small chuckle, because although he didn’t understand what was going on you at least acknowledged his existence and talked to him, so that was an improvement. 

Your relationship with your brother was still taking baby steps to recovery, but your relationship with your best friend couldn’t get any better. If you weren’t sitting right besides him, you were texting him, if you weren’t texting him, you were calling him. 

You made the deal to make this summer count, just in case you grew apart from each other but with the way things were going you highly doubted that anything would break you apart now. 

You threw your head back on your bed, staring at your phone with your arms held out over top of your face. You smile never wavering as you type away messages to Anton. First you send the word “hello” 8 individual times in separate messages until he responds, you wanna make sure that you have his attention first. 

But when he doesn’t respond or even open the messages, you let the anticipation get the best of you and just call him, so you can at least hear his reaction when you tell him the news that has you busting at the seams with excitement. 

Yet, something about hearing the phone ring over and over again slowly kills the excitement in you. Your smile is still present, it’s just smaller now. 

Anton always answered his phone for you, even during the cello lessons that his dad used to make him take after school. So this is something new to you, and you’re not sure how to really feel about it. 

The only thing you can think to do is just go to his house and see him in person. At Least this way you could see his reaction face to face and even hang out for a little. That’s what you choose to do, throwing your legs over your bed to rush to his front door.

“Hey, guess wha-” You start the second the door opens but stop when you see that the person who opened the door wasn’t Anton. In fact, you don’t know who this is, you’ve never seen her before.

“Hi?” The girl pipes up, smiling at you. You try to force yourself to mirror her smile, it lasts almost as long as a blink but with all the thoughts running through your head you end up just blurting out. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Anton’s friend.” She holds her hand out to you. “Nice to meet you.” She smiles. 

You feel your heart sink into your chest, the longer you look at her. It was happening already, and summer isn’t even over yet. you thought things were looking up, but it’s just the beginning of the end. 

You wanna ask, “Are you sure?” because Anton's never mentioned her before, but you hold your tongue and simply ask “Is he here?” and she responds with “Yeah, I’ll get him for you.” 

You wait for less than a minute before Anton comes to the door, you hadn’t thought about what you were going to say when you did see him. So now you’re stumbling over your words trying to find out what question you wanna ask first.

“I just came because you didn’t answer your phone, but I guess you have a date so that would explain everything.” you mutter

“It's not a date, she just came over to play games.”

“sounds fun.”

“you’re not mad.. right?”

“I'm just a little disappointed that you didn’t tell me. but she’s really pretty I hope you guys have fun.”

“why do you even care? we’re just friends.” he asks when get ready to turn your back. 

“Just fr- the rest of the words can’t even leave your mouth, just caught in your throat as tears begin to swarm your waterline. “Clearly we don’t feel the same way, so I’ll just go.”

“Feel the same way?” he repeats “about what? there’s nothing to feel.” That's what does it, knocks the wind right out of your lungs. 

“Nothing. Nothing, Anton, bye.” You hurry and walk away before he can see you cry. The conversation reminds you of the stupid high school boys that you used to avoid. You cling to Anton because you always thought he was far too sweet to ever treat you or anyone like that. But you were wrong—terribly wrong, and it makes you physically ill. 

Crying for the third time this summer, barging into the house past Eunseok, and running into your room. This might actually be your first heartbreak, and it’s funny to think that your best friend would be the one to give it to you.

“Knock, knock.” Eunseok knocks on the bedroom door that you forgot to close. Usually, he waits for your permission to enter, but this time, he just walks right in and takes a spot on the edge of your bed. 

“go away.” You sob into your pillow. 

He continues to speak, not caring about your protests. “I know you don’t want to talk to me right now. But I want you to know that I'll always be here for you, and no matter what, I’ll always look out for you.”

“I don't need you to look out for me.” 

He doesn’t say anything else because he knows it’s only a matter of time before you open up to him about what’s going on. 

He thought right. It took not even four seconds for you to sit up and look at him with glossy eyes. “We’re just friends, not best friends, not even close friends. Just friends,” you said, hiccupping in between words.

When Eunseok doesn’t say anything, you keep talking.

"He was hanging out with this girl; I've never met her before. Well, I mean, he’s never told me about her, and she’s really pretty. He probably thinks she’s prettier than me.” 

“you’re crying because he was hanging out with a girl?” Eunseok recaps, and you roll your eyes. 

“You don’t get it; no one gets it.” Not even you. You couldn’t explain to him what’s wrong if you wanted to because you actually had no clue. All you knew was that you saw him with another girl, and it hurt—a lot. 

“Then explain it to me.” Your brother looks at you, really trying to understand so he can find a way to make you feel better. When you go completely silent, he blurts out another question. 

“Do you like him?” 

Now you get it. Now, it all makes sense. You don’t want to admit it aloud, but you know the truth. You’ve stopped crying, but your voice is still weak and raspy when you say, “We’re just friends,” repeating Anton's exact words. 

It wasn’t easy ignoring Anton, not because you were struggling to stay away from him but because he made it hard to pretend like he never existed. Blowing up your phone with phone calls or text messages and popping up at your front door occasionally so you’d be forced to see his face.

You’ve moved on from being mad about whatever it was that you were mad about in the first place to being mad about the fact that he didn’t share the same feelings you had. 

This was all his fault anyways, because if it wasn't for his dumb stupid face and his annoying soft voice you would’ve never fallen for him in the first place. You were actually pretty good at keeping your emotions controlled… well more less. But this was still his fault, and you weren’t taking any responsibility. 

1:15 Brachio: Wanna go skating today? 

1:22 Brachio: hey??

1:37 Brachio: did I do something wrong?”  

You scoff at the last message; he really had the audacity to ask if he did something wrong. Even if you didn’t fully know the reason you were mad, he should’ve definitely known. 

4:49 Brachio:  Hello? 

4:49 Brachio: I’m sorry, please talk to me. 

4:49 Brachio: this isn’t fun I’m getting flashbacks. 

4:50 Brachio: I’ll bake you a cake.

4:50 Brachio: I’ll do anything. 

5: 10 Brachio: wow so you hate me. 

6:20 You: I do, leave me alone. 

6:20 Brachio: Oh, sorry, 

6:29 Brachio: Are you still mad? 

You leave your phone face up and watch his name flash more and more from the corner of your room. Trying to think of anything else to distract you from the conversation Anton was having with himself in your messages. 

“What are you doing out here?” Sungchan looks down at Anton, cropped down in front of your door. “Waiting for Y/n,” he responds.

“Oh I’ll get her for you.” He turns. 

“No! She’s not gonna come out if you tell her I’m here. I’ll just wait.” 

“Is this like a game?... or” 

“She came over 2 weeks ago, and we had a small argument about… actually, I don’t know what it was about. I just know that it upset her that I had one of my friends over.” Anton explains.

“Interesting, interesting and was this friend a girl?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you find her physically attractive?” 

“No, I’ve never really looked at her like that.” 

“Interesting.” Sungchan taps his chin three times for a cinematic effect. “It seems to me like Y/n might have a little crush on you.” 

“On me? She couldn’t possi- oh~” he comes to the realization mid sentence. “What is Anton gonna do with this new found information?” Sungchan begins to speak in his version of a British accent. 

“There’s nothing I can do, She won’t talk to me. It’s been weeks.” Anton looks up to sungchan. 

“If there is a will, there will be a way,” Sungchan speaks with his finger in the air as if he were some inspirational character from a children's book.

“Okay…” Anton mutters.

“Sungchan says! We shall make it rain.”  Sungchan yells.

“Make it rain?” Anton questions

“Make it rain.” Sungchan heroically yells. 

“Make it rain?” Anton asks again. 

Since summer was coming to an end, you figured there was no other time to start packing than now. The first thing you decided to start with was the abundance of posters on your walls. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe you needed a little change in your life, and growing up wasn’t all that bad. 

“I never thought I’d see this room all packed up.” Eunseok says as he walks through your bedroom door. 

“I haven’t even started yet.” You laugh. 

“You start school in a few weeks. How do you feel?” 

“I’m actually kind of excited, maybe it’s time for me to make new friends.” 

“Are you at least gonna talk to him before you go?” 

“He’ll be fine, he has someone to keep him company.” you don’t even take the time to look at your brother when you speak. Focusing on carefully taking down your wall art without ripping any of them. 

“I’m sure he’d still like to talk to you.” 

“I don’t care.’ You say bluntly. 

“Maybe you should.” You only turn to look at him when he’s gone, leaving you alone with nothing but your crowded walls and crowded thoughts to match. Going away for college meant you might not ever talk to Anton again. Well, you were probably going to see him around campus or something, sure. But you won’t be friends like you used to. He’ll go off to build his new group of people, and so will you. 

Maybe this friendship wasn’t so strong after all. 

The splashing water against your window is enough to pull you out of your thoughts. You guess that it’s raining at first, so you open your window to observe the sky but see that it’s completely bright and clear. 

“What the heck?” You say aloud to yourself, trying to observe where the sprinkles of water are coming from. 

Then you see Anton standing right below you, drenched in water and Sungchan holding the water hose from the bushes. “These idiots.” You mutter under your breath. 

“Y/n, someone's here for you,” Eunseok yells from the stairs, making sure to leave out Anton’s name. He knew you wouldn’t leave your room if he did mention him. 

Anton doesn’t give you the chance to speak before he starts to recite the note he has in his hands. The note was just as wet as he was, and the ink had already begun washing off the paper, but he continued to read anyway. 

“I. Am. Very. Sorry. For-” Not caring to hear the rest of what he has to say, you snatch the damped paper out of his hand and rip it up in front of him. Then throwing the pieces back in his face before you slam the door and leave him to talk to himself.

“I didn’t need that.” He murmurs through the barrier between you two. 

“Remember you pinky promised me that we’d always be friends. You can’t break it now. We never break our pinky promises.” He speaks on the other side of the door since you weren’t gonna speak to him face to face. 

“For the love of god Anton, go away-” You yell at him when you open your front door, and within a blink of an eye his lips are on yours and his hands are on each side of your face. He’d pulled you far enough out of your house to get drenched in the water that Sungchan was spraying. 

You break the kiss first with a harsh slap on his cheek. “Why did you do that?” You shout.

“That’s what they do in the movies whenever they confess their feelings. I thought it would work,” he explains, holding his cheek, 

“You like me?” 

“Am I gonna get slapped again if I say yes?” 

You don’t have anything else to say, so you pull him down to you by the collar of his shirt and kiss him once again. Before whispering, “I like you too.” Against his lips

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” 

“I still haven’t gotten a cake yet.” is your response to his question, but you both knew that you were far from mad at him. 

You guys shared over 234 pinky promises in the time span that you had been friends. And all of them remained unbroken, except for one. 

[dreadnought-despair]

hey y'all yeah this is the post you think it is

after two official tries and several unposted attempts over the course of almost 8 years, i think im calling dreadnought despair, er... mostly dead? BUT im bringing this blog back! ill be picking stuff to answer from the askbox (keep in mind i have a job and im getting old lol) as well as just drawing the kids bc i miss them

i also feel pretty bad about where i left off, so i'm considering finishing out chapter 1 (if i can remember how i had all the code set up 😬) but it would take A While. so heres a poll

more of an explanation under the cut. if you want to see what else I've been up to, check out my art blog @amelias-art and my twitch [AmeliasArt], where i've started streaming pretty regularly on tuesdays and thursdays around 7pm CST!

im sure this cancellation isn't a surprise to anyone but i just wanted to get this out there for my own peace of mind

it has nothing to do with the wonderful folks who supported me through the years and everything to do with my mental health, getting older, and frankly poor story planning. it's a classic case of a project that never had a strong outline and thus ballooned in scope as it went-- you'll see what i mean when i start trying to answer asks about what would've been the endgame LOL. and ill do my best to answer some stuff, but there are some unintroduced concepts and characters that i would like to save for other stories so i may be vague about parts of it

even if it was masterfully planned, though, it still would've been hard to really pick up again-- I started this fic in college when I was at my most suicidal, and the reboot happened in 2020 which, well anyway,, im in a better place now with a loving husband, a stable job, a healthier relationship with my queerness, and multiple mental health diagnoses and medications. im proud of what i did accomplish with dreadnought, and im grateful to it and the community for getting me through some miserable times, but it's still a reminder of those times in and of itself. maybe by officially shelving it i can move on

thank you so much for sticking around! it really means a lot to me

[oh-no-its-bird]

I kind of ended up w a small pile of Hatake ocs and lore to fill the early konoha timeline void, and a big thing is like. They all die to preserve the narrative. A lot of them very young bc again, made to fill the time line, so logically, there had to be some Hatake kids/teenagers who met an unfortunate end.

So I'm kinda sitting here considering a 4 part fic where each chapter revolves around a specific Hatake and their inevitable death, w maybe a bonus chapter at the end being about Sakumo

"Death of the Wolves," the unfortunate end of the Hatake's, told in 4 parts

The Hatake's helped set the Konoha standard rule of "a team can only be made up of so many % of one clan" (with special exceptions) after a large chunk of them got sent on a mission together bc of their specializations and all wound up dead, wiping out a solid 90% of the clan in one night.

Actually, expanding on that bc the tragedy is so good -> I already established that in my time line, the Hatake head, Haruka (Sakumo's mother, Tobirama and Hashirama's aunt) died under a week after Tobirama's death, and she would have lead that failed mission. Does that mean one of Hiruzen's first acts as war time Hokage resulted in the accidental slaughter of his beloved dead Sensei's mother's clan? That's amazing actually, so much drama there. I bet him Danzo and Kagami argued like crazy after that monumental fuck up, probably went on to define how he feels ab being Hokage / what that entails. Fun times!

Anyways, I'd also be very interested in exploring early konoha politics n stuff. Especially from the multiple views of not the people in charge of making the village but the ones who are living in it. The view from the ground up, instead of looking down from the tower. The younger generations being brought to this new village, going from their isolated clan lands to suddenly being surrounded by others their age from different clans, possible for the first time ever depending on their age and their clans level of secrecy.

Also, I really wanna poke at the outsider pov of Madara and other founders— but mostly Madara bc I find his downfall very fun to think about, especially from the POV of someone not in his clan.

I'm so in love w the take of the Hatake's being fond of Madara bc "he'd make a very good Hatake." Something about the two tropes of the Uchiha being a clan that loves love and the Hatake being a clan w similar values when it comes to family and loyalty just meshes so well.

Comedy moment where Haruka is weirdly insistent on Madara potentially marrying into the clan, not even for the politics or anything but specifically bc she NEEDS a cute squishy Hatake baby with his massive hair. She NEEDS IT, MADARA.

Anyways also just the early konoha inter clan drama but like. From the eyes of the clan kids. The Uchiha kids seem to be having some sort of terf war with the Senju— but it was interrupted by the Hyuuga, and now the Senju and Uchiha kids are somehow banding together against the Hyuuga? But oh no now the Nara kids are teaming up w the Hyuuga, and the Hatake kid (singular bc there's literally only like 1) seems to have an actual blood feud going on with the Hyuuga clan heir— but the older Hatake teenagers are fond of the Hyuuga's baby clan heir so it's just a mess. All the clan drama but with none of the tragedy bc everyone involved is a child.

Meanwhile the older clan members are somehow bonding over their children's fights bc they're all struggling to pull them away, or going "what the fuck do you mean you teamed up with the SENJU??" Then sharing a disbelieving Look(tm) w the opposing Senju's parents before realizing what they just did and having a crisis of faith ab it

Meanwhile the teenagers are having a wonderful time, especially those from smaller more isolated clans like the Hatake. There's so much romantic drama, there's probably a whole shinobi soap opera happening in that direction. Hormonal shinobi teenagers from opposing clans just got dropped into the same dating pool it's gonna be a MESSSS.

Even funnier if you take crumbs from my senju weed empire au and like. Some of these clans regularly smoke n stuff. Meanwhile other clans have never touched a psychedelic in their life. Some are especially vulnerable to drugs due to heightened senses (Orochi, Inuzuka, Hatake) while others have been smoking since they were younger and have an insane tolerance and very much distorted views of a reasonable amount of weed to smoke (Senju, Nara, Shiranui) There is no way in hell that goes well. Someone is going to get fucked up in a MAJOR way.

Well-intentioned Nara accidentally gets a bunch of dog wired guys and one snake high out of their fucking minds, the high lasts a full week for some of them and one sometimes wonders if they ever really came down from it

Anyways I got a bit off track but yeah! Early Konoha fic that revolves around the daily lives of differently aged Hatake ocs, taking a look from different angles of Konoha and all the silly clan drama and daily lives of an early Konoha shinobi— each chapter being different degrees of generally lighthearted, but ending in the Hatake's death. The fact that each Hatake is in with a different crowd and is a different age would make it even more fun and easier to explore the different layers Konoha has to offer! It's for sure on my list of things I wanna write

(Also I'd really love to have it just so I can point to it as a good introduction for my Hatake ocs. I love tricking people into learning ab my ocs it's great)

[suzukiblu]

this is a question that is not meant to come off as judgemental, and if it does i apologise and you don’t have to answer

for you, or anyone out there in the world if they see this,

What is the appeal of (the?) Omegaverse?

Ive never quite gotten it? And it might be the big bold orange, blue and white letters spelling out aroace, or being european, younger than most people who are knowledgeable about that particular genre of content (still 18+) and while I did get on the internet at 11, I didn’t start reading fanfic until 14-15

this is a long and rambly ask so I just want to clarify, this is a genuine question I would like an answer to, no matter how short and sweet, or long and convoluted it may be

It's all good, I don't mind getting questions! And, like, I've written a LOT of omegaverse, so it's a thoroughly relevant question to this blog, haha.

. . . and this definitely wound up long and convoluted. So like, yeah, we are SO gonna need a read-more here, friend. 😅

Obviously everyone's gonna have their own reasons for liking the genre, but as another (much older, I'm assuming) aroace, for me the appeal is the opportunity to use the tag "Fantasy Gender Roles". Like, there's other stuff there, def, but "Fantasy Gender Roles" is my favorite part. Omegaverse is a game where the rules are made-up and the points don't matter, and you can interpret and re-interpret the involved sexes and genders however the heck you wanna, and in fact are ENCOURAGED to. I also really like certain tropes that are common to the genre, like pack dynamics and breeding kink and having babies and feral behavior and courting/courting rituals, I just really enjoy playing with and reading about all of those.

Also, the worldbuilding. I get to do ✨GENDER-BASED WORLDBUILDING✨.

And obvi, like, some people are just into omegaverse for the kink/porn factor, which is totally fair, but personally I am here for ✨GENDER-BASED WORLDBUILDING✨. And then also the kink/porn. Generally speaking a recurring comment I've gotten from a lot of readers is "I literally hate omegaverse but I love yours", so a lot of my stuff is allegedly a decent jumping-on point for the genre if you're looking for that. Like, I'm not the only person who writes omegaverse the way I do, obviously, just I'm a pretty accessible one who's written a LOT of it.

( and in the event you DO want any jumping-on omegaverse recs from my stuff, I'mma just pop a few of them from various fandoms here. no DC-related ones 'cuz I don't have any of those currently on AO3, only scattered in my WIP tags, but hopefully something helpful will be in here. )

original fic

to the victor go the spoils - human omega OMC/dragon [ GENDER NOT FOUND ] OMC; 16.7k; explicit Fantasy AU. This one includes porn but honestly the heart of it is just one of those fairy tales where the protagonist is somehow both incredibly genre-savvy in their story and yet still a total fucking idiot about other people's feelings, and especially considering it's original fic, it is honestly one of the most popular things I've ever posted, hah.

The dragon arrived early in the morning, and by noon the entire village was in a panic in the town hall. No one in the village knew anything about dragons, aside from what they’d heard in fairy tales and stories, and the plans for dealing with it were about that level of sophisticated.

“We’re not sacrificing a virgin to the dragon,” Viktor said in exasperation.

“Well what would YOU do?!” the mayor demanded.

“I’m going to go talk to it,” Viktor said reasonably, and got up from his seat and went to do just that.

.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

does the pain feel better when I'm around? - beta!Sokka/omega!Zuko, beta!Sokka/beta!Suki, past alpha!Mai/omega!Zuko, polyamory; 3k; teen Societal dynamics-focused fic. Zuko goes into heat at the Western Air Temple immediately after the Boiling Rock happens and goes off to den down alone and stay out of everyone's way without realizing that the local betas are gonna lose their ever-lovin' MINDS about that.

“Cool,” he says. “You realize we’ve been looking for you for, like, two HOURS, right?”

“Why?” Zuko asks, sounding confused, which is kind of sad.

“Because the world is full of people who wanna kill you and you didn’t bother telling anyone where you were going?” Sokka says. “Obviously?”

“Oh.” Zuko falls silent. Sokka glances moonwards in supplication. Yue save him from dumb, dumb firebenders.

every act of communication is a miracle of translation - alpha!Mai/omega!Zuko; 5.7k; teen Post-series fic where Mai and Zuko are about to spend their first cycle together and they're both really awkward about working out how it should go. Not actually a sequel to "does the pain feel better when I'm around?", but you could definitely draw a relationship between 'em.

They leave the office, Mai pretending that all her senses aren’t full of Zuko’s warm, spicy scent, and he keeps looking worried. She wonders if it’s THIS he’s worried about, now that she’s thinking about it. They agreed they’d share their next cycles together, but again, they haven’t really talked about it.

They can talk about it now, Mai thinks.

Unfortunately, that means now they actually have to talk about it.

.

Overwatch

even if I do I don't, even if I could I won't - omega!Genji/beta!the-character-who-was-at-the-time-I-wrote-this-fic-known-as-McCree; 5.1k; explicit Blackwatch-era fic where Genji did not fill out his heat partner designation forms and "Fuck or Suffer Unspecified Health Consequences" is gonna make that a problem. Worldbuilding, assisted negotiation, a touch of workplace-influenced pack dynamics, and porn.

“Yeah, you’re hilarious, kid,” Gabe says. “Get back to work. And Shimada, call your heat partner and we’ll see you next week.”

Shimada’s shoulders tense. Gabe . . . pauses.

“Shimada,” he says slowly. “PLEASE tell me you have a heat partner on base.”

“I have a heat partner on base,” Shimada lies. Gabe and Jesse both stare at him, then Gabe calls up his file, takes one look at it, and starts cursing.

don't, don't, don't let's start (I've got a weak heart) - alpha!Genji/omega!the-character-who-was-at-the-time-I-wrote-this-fic-known-as-McCree; 17.3k; explicit Blackwatch-era fic about Genji and the character formerly known as McCree dealing with their complicated feelings about each other and also the cybernetics and trauma and physical disabilities that are fucking up their sex life, including ED.

“You busy?” he asks. Genji stares at him in bemusement, which is fair. Genji’s only ever busy when they’re on a mission or he’s in the middle of an upgrade. “Dumb question. My heat’s coming on, wanna do me a favor?”

“What favor?” Genji asks, still looking mystified. Jesse tries not to laugh at him.

“The obvious one,” he says meaningfully, tipping his hat back and raising his eyebrows at him. Genji looks no less mystified for a moment, then startles. “THERE we go."

.

Marvel Cinematic Universe

come hang (let's go out with a bang) - omega!Darcy Lewis/omega!Johnny Storm; 5k; teen Darcy almost dies again, tries to figure out which omega buys the courting gifts in an omega/omega relationship, and has her first date with a super-hot superhero.

“Was there traffic?” Jane asks.

“I have a date with Johnny Storm,” Darcy says.

“What?” Jane says.

“Oh, and I almost died again,” Darcy says, pulling out Jane’s papers for her. “But that’s kind of secondary.”

“WHAT?!”

pack up, don't stray (oh say say say) - alpha!Natasha + polyamory; 3.4k; teen Natasha collects a harem pack and Captain America is fucking difficult about it.

Natasha is an alpha on a mission, and that mission is simple and clear.

I said you're holding back, she said shut up and dance with me - alpha!Peggy/omega!Steve/omega!Bucky; 10.3k; mature Alternate timeline where Steve and Bucky don't "die" and they all run away from the States to get married and start a family. Illegal adoption and biokids and lowkey pack dynamics involving figuring out how to fold pups into their lives, oh my!! And also, they all get to dance.

“One alpha mating two omegas? Really, Steve?” Peggy asks, mouth quirking wryly. “What WOULD the newsreels say?”

“We’ll go to France,” Steve says. “No one will care in France.”

“I do love France,” she muses.

oh don't you dare hold back, just keep your eyes on me - alpha!Darcy/omega!Bucky, polyamory; 187.4k; explicit MY MAGNUM OPUS, MY WHITE WHALE, THE LITERAL REASON OMEGAVERSE TOOK OVER HALF MY BLOG FOR HALF MY STINT IN MCU FANDOM. I wanted a goddamn female alpha and I wanted that female alpha to be Darcy Lewis, and Bucky was my fave blorbo at the time so the inevitable happened. The inevitable happened for three and a half years and 187,430 words, to be more precise.

Darcy is thirty feet out of Stark-cum-Avengers Tower when she starts craving cinnamon rolls--the sticky-sweet iced-up old-fashioned kind, yummy and messy and dripping gooshy icing all over your mouth and hands and down your yuuuup, yup, that is a super, super fertile omega that she is smelling, holy SHIT is it ever.

“Jesus Christ,” she groans in frustration, then follows her alpha instincts (and, more easily and importantly, her NOSE) to go track them down. They’re in the middle of New York City; middle of the day or not, not checking on somebody who smells like THAT is, like, the ultimate dick move.

.

OKAY SELF THAT'S ENOUGH LINKS, WE MOVE ON NOW, haha.

I will also say, if you're interested in, like, gender-exploratory AU concepts, apiary genders might be more your thing and more easily accessible for you? It's a MUCH newer thing than omegaverse and really only has a few fics around, some of which are linked in the "inspired by" of that AO3 primer linked above, but the concept is a bit more strongly "hive"-based than a lot of omegaverse is "pack"-based, and also there's no physical differences from baseline. I've got a WIP or two going about apiary myself, actually, but I haven't gotten too far into them yet, alas. The only one I've posted anything from is this one Superbat one.

[wttcsms]

excerpts;

i have over 100k+ words in unfinished drafts/wips in my google docs. yikes.

in an attempt to gauge general interest + also to motivate myself in attempting to at least finish half of the projects i've started, i'm going to share some of the fics i think y'all will be most interested in 🤍 (and also because these are my usual first rough draft attempts, so these are just the best of the worst LOL)

as always, lmk what you think, what you're most excited for, and i'm always open to chatting about any of my concepts in depth 🤭

featuring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, sae itoshi, tobio kageyama, naoya zenin, satoru gojo, + a plot that's still open for any character so tell me why ur fave deserves it (all with fem reader)

— brace for impact, keiji akaashi elevator pitch: rich college girl with daddy issues is roommates/put under the care of old-time family friend, 20-something y/o keiji akaashi

“I just don’t want you to waste your life away.” He answers, which is the truth. He really hates picking you up when you’re drunk off your ass, unable to defend yourself against the swarms of sleazy college guys that are attending the same party as you. He hates the fact that you’ve been raised — if the dozen father-daughter interactions you had with your dad counts as him “raising” you — to believe that money can solve all your problems. Because, sure, having money has gotten you out of many tight spots, but it wasn’t money that drove to a college on the other side of the city to pick you up, it was him. He has to stand here and watch you push the universe’s boundaries, trying to test your luck, to see if there’s a problem or a bad situation that you can’t get out of this time. You’re reckless and privileged and insecure and rich — the deadliest combination for any college age girl to be. You’re going to ruin your life before it even fully begins. It’s like your default mode is self destruction. 

“Not this speech again.” You sigh, shifting your body so that your knees are turned towards the door instead of him. “Y’know, Akaashi, you’re not my dad.” 

“Yeah, because unlike him, I actually care about you.”

You’re silent now, still staring out the window. He’s usually better at keeping his mouth shut, but it’s hard to do whenever you’re constantly pushing and pushing and testing his patience and he’s just so—

“—sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. It’s a wonder how the words leave his mouth; you think the way he’s clenching his teeth acts as a formidable enough boundary. 

Actually, you think, it’s entirely justifiable. You’re coy, not dumb. You know when you’ve pushed Akaashi too far, and this is one of those times. And, really, you kind of — scratch that — you do deserve it. All of it. And then some. You’re irresponsible, and you drag him out to the other side of the city so he can act as your guardian, your protector, even though that is most certainly not the role he planned on playing. Honestly, you’re just surprised that he hasn’t left you out to rot like everyone else, and you’re thankful, you really are. But what are you supposed to say? That? The truth? Probably. 

You don’t, though. You just mutter some weak ass retort that sounds an awful lot like “you need to get laid” before staring out the window for the rest of the ride. 

— devil on my shoulder tellin' me i'll die soon (i don't really want that to impact you), atsumu miya elevator pitch: yakuza au but a healthy amount of porn and plot. sequel to this.

The first time Osamu Miya meets you, you’re unconscious, and he has a feeling you’d be grateful about this fact considering the state you’re in. 

Atsumu’s carrying you bridal style, and even in your sleep, you still cling to him. The sight would be almost sweet, but Osamu’s not an idiot. There can never be anything sweet in his dear older brother’s life. Even in the pale moonlight, Osamu can see the bruises and hickeys lining your neck, a trail of them that seem to disappear underneath your clothes (he wouldn’t be shocked if there’s a map of hickeys littering your skin). Your hair is sticking up at odd angles, your lips are swollen, and you are knocked out in every sense of the word. 

If the situation wasn’t serious (even without verbal confirmation, he’s well aware of how dire this situation is right now; Atsumu wouldn’t have visited him if it weren’t), Osamu thinks he would have made a comment about his brother’s rough handling. 

(He doesn’t, though, because Osamu knows all about just how rough his brother can get — after all, they both had the same upbringing.) 

“‘Samu,” Atsumu says, and his voice makes him sound like he’s worse for wear. He sounds like when he was fourteen and had his first taste of initiation, when a group of the strongest men would beat him relentlessly for thirty seconds and he wasn’t allowed to fight back. The crack in his voice is subtle, and even though Osamu rarely speaks to his brother anymore, he’s still a master at reading him. 

“Who’s the girl?” Osamu nods to your sleeping form, trying not to focus on the purple and red marks. God, he can’t tell if he, Atsumu, you, or all three of you are lucky it’s so dark. Osamu can’t really believe it’s possible to go out in public after a night with his brother; not without being on the receiving end of a few concerned looks. 

“I need a favor.” Atsumu ignores his question, which is typical behavior for him, so Osamu’s not entirely too surprised or annoyed. “She’s in danger, and it’s—” 

Atsumu grimaces like the next words he’s about to say are going to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. And maybe it’s because that’s his brother and they grew up together, or maybe it’s because ‘Tsumu’s always been a little predictable (or has Osamu just always been good at predicting?), but Osamu can almost mouth what his brother’s about to say.

“—my fault.” 

So, you must be someone awfully important to his brother then. Important enough that Atsumu would finally visit him in person after all these years (with barely any warning beforehand, too). Important enough that Atsumu would treat you so roughly (if the marks on your body are any indication of what you’ve been through) and still care about you so deeply. Important enough that he’s finally taking accountability, finally taking the blame for his actions.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Atsumu’s left him genuinely speechless for a moment. 

“Please, ‘Samu.” Atsumu Miya is not the type of person who breaks down easily. He does not beg, he commands. But right now, Atsumu sounds like he’s this close to getting down on his knees and clasping his hands together if that’s what it’ll take to get Osamu to help him. “You told me you would owe me after what I did for you. Consider this your repayment.” 

Apparently, you’re someone so important to Atsumu, he’s cashing in a favor that’s worth his life just to ensure your safety. Osamu can’t tell if that’s true idiocy or true love — then again, there’s hardly a difference between the two, is there? 

“Idiot. I would have helped ya regardless, y’know.” He means it. Every word. 

“I know.” And Atsumu means it, too. Because even if they’ve went years with little to no contact, even though they both belong to two completely different worlds, they’re still brothers. Which means that they also know each other as well as they know themselves, and Atsumu knows that Osamu can never truly be at peace until he feels like the completely imaginary debt he owes is paid back in full. 

The universe must have a taste for irony, though, because Atsumu thought that ensuring your safety and bringing his brother peace would make him feel good. Instead, transferring you to his brother’s arms allows the weight of the world to rest more comfortably on his shoulders. 

Osamu takes one last look at his older brother, and he’s not entirely surprised to see that his attention is on you, dark eyes staring so intensely at your sleeping figure, he wonders if he’s trying to commit your face to his memory. He’s worried about Atsumu. Sure, he’s got a whole entire gang on his side, a rather powerful one too, but ‘Tsumu’s never been the greatest at being left alone to his devices, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

But then Atsumu looks up at him, and Osamu feels like they’re both fourteen again. Trapped, vulnerable, in immense pain… But not alone, never alone. 

“Thanks, ‘Samu.” 

“Any time, ‘Tsumu.” 

(It’s the same words exchanged by their teenage selves years ago, whenever Osamu would help him clean his cuts and sloppily stitch him up.

To them, it was another way of saying “I love you”.)

— it always leads to you [chapter one], sae itoshi elevator pitch: literally the long ass, long awaited start to this series. if you listened to taylor's new album (ttpd)... yeah, that's basically the new soundtrack for this fic. do what u will with that info <3

A hard pill to swallow is that people never get over their first loves. 

It’s like, scientifically proven, or something. There’s been studies, you think. Not to mention that you belong to the group of people who have never gotten over their first loves. 

You’re aware that it’s probably embarrassing and should be something that brings you shame, but when Sae comes knocking on your door, infrequent, surprise visits that always catch you off-guard, you find yourself opening the door for him. 

(He has a key. He can let himself in any time he wants. You think he must forget.)

This time, he’s not knocking on your door, but he is waiting in the stairwell near the entrance to the floor of your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap on and a dark sweatshirt, and you want to tell him that everyone who lives here is most definitely getting shitfaced at the college bar you just left (the one whose only redeeming qualities are that it’s by campus and the drinks are cheap). He doesn’t have to worry about hiding his identity. 

You frown when he approaches you. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you pout and complain about this halfheartedly, but it’s all for nothing. Sae never tells you when he’s coming; it’s almost like you’re just a spur-of-the-moment decision to him, which doesn’t feel right since the Sae you grew up with was always meticulous and purposeful with his actions. Granted, the Sae you grew up with left on a plane to an entirely different continent four years ago, and the one you have standing next to you now sometimes feels more like a doppelganger than your ex-boyfriend. 

He doesn’t answer, because of course he fucking wouldn’t. He waits for you to fumble with your keys; if you knew he was coming, you wouldn’t have let Akane convince you to take as many shots as you did. Now everything is kind of blurry and hazy, and your hands shake despite the lack of coldness you’re feeling. 

You delude yourself into thinking that there’s something of the old Sae left inside of him as he gently pries the keys from your fumbling fingers and unlocks the door to your apartment himself. 

Entering your apartment feels like traveling in a time machine, only instead of traveling back in time or to the future, Sae is entering a present-day parallel universe. This apartment, with its best (and only) amenity being a short distance from campus, could have been his. Could have been shared by the two of you, even. 

If he had stayed, that is.

Sometimes Sae ponders what his life would be like if he stuck around. If he had never had the ego or the audacity to want to see more of the world. You know better than to ask him why he never visits you when you’re on a holiday break from school, and he thinks it’s because you still know him the best out of anybody, even Rin. The truth is, Sae is too uncomfortable to come crawling back to his childhood home that he grew up in, the one he’s spent years determined to grow out of. He only comes back home when absolutely necessary — out of eldest son/family obligation. 

This college apartment, seeing remnants of a life you’re living that he doesn’t know much about (even though all he has to do is ask, and you would gladly tell), feels wrongly nostalgic. Like, the sweatshirt lying haphazardly on the couch displaying a big, fat Tokyo U logo on its front could have been his instead of your roommate’s. He could have played college ball instead of trying to get recruited directly to the big leagues. Sae’s good enough to get a scholarship. Even received a letter informing him that Tokyo U would be more than glad to have him, full-ride. 

(The letter resides in the back of his closet, crumpled up but never forgotten.) 

And, most importantly, you wouldn’t be looking at him like this. 

Even drunk off of cheap alcohol, you sober up startlingly fast when you see him. You shouldn’t give him so much power over your life, but he’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t relish in the overwhelming relief that you still love him just the same. Nothing ever changes back home, and he says this with disdain, but when it comes to your unshifting affection for him, he figures staying the same can’t be all bad.

“Y’know, it always feels like you’re judging me when you just stand there and look at everything.” An intoxicated you is an honest you. If he wasn’t so determined to mask everything about himself, he would have smiled at your admittance. 

He doesn’t smile, though. He just continues to let his cold eyes roam across the entirety of your cramped, college apartment.

— an indentation in the shape of you, tobio kageyama elevator pitch: idol!reader who goes into hiding after a major scandal despite being the victim x pro!tobio who's been hopelessly pining after you since forever. now you're in hiding, but also living in the apartment right across from his.

SEARCH NEWS: [NAME] [SURNAME] > TOP RESULTS (SORTED FROM MOST TO LEAST RECENT)

WHERE DID [NAME] [SURNAME] GO? *INCLUDES EXCLUSIVE PHOTO OF HER MOST RECENT SIGHTING!*Posted on March 10, 2019

[NAME]’S SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN, IDOL HAS NOT BEEN SPOTTED IN A WEEK Posted on January 4, 2019   BREAKING: [NAME] [SURNAME] GOES SOLO! LEAVES IDOL GROUP TO START HER OWN CAREER! Posted November 6, 2018

KENTARO TANAKA NOW DATING J-POP IDOL AYAME MATSUMOTO, [NAME]’S FELLOW GIRL GROUP MEMBER!Posted on November 1, 2018

AFTER RECEIVING BACKLASH FROM ANNOUNCEMENT OF HER RELATIONSHIP, [NAME] [SURNAME] ISSUES AN APOLOGY ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS Posted on September 3, 2018

NEW COUPLE ALERT! IDOL [NAME] AND HER RECORD LABEL’S EXECUTIVE, KENTARO TANAKA, SPARK DATING RUMORS Posted on August 16, 2018

When you spend most of your adolescent and young adult years standing in front of a camera, constantly served on a platter for the masses to scrutinize during your most formative years, you get used to being seen. People’s eyes locked in on you isn’t a comfortable feeling, but it’s one you’re very well acquainted with. Watchful, judging gazes cling to you like a second skin. 

It comes with the job is what your personal manager, Fumiko Gima, tells you, right before she tells you to toughen up. You had been fifteen at the time and saw a blogger discussing how you were the least attractive cast member on the children’s ensemble show you starred in. 

All eyes are on you from this point forward. You really going to let them see you cry? Fumiko is not a nice person, but she is incredibly kind, in her own way. She’s the type of person who believes in tough love, all while claiming that she doesn’t even think love exists. 

You think about the disapproving frown on her face when you revealed your relationship with Kentaro Tanaka. 

“You think you’re in love with him?” Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Fumiko is barely seven years older than you. Her youth is evident in her flawless skin and shiny hair (both of which are maintained by very meticulous routines), but the flat expression she wears on her face makes her seem like a woman who found out the hard way that her thirties are not going the way she planned. You’re eighteen when she asks you this question, and you don’t know how a twenty-five year old woman can have such an intimidating aura, but you think that only adds to her beauty. 

“He told me he loves me.” 

“People like him and I don’t believe in love.” Fumiko makes a face; sometimes, she lets her poker face drop in favor of making a face of disgust, annoyance, irritation, or extreme smugness. Right now, she looks disgusted. “Well, I wouldn’t normally place myself in the same group as him, but our industries are pretty much the same. You don’t get to where we’re at because of love, that’s for damn certain.” 

At this point in time, you’re adamant that it’s love because that’s what he says it is, and you’ve never been in love before, but you know that it’s something great. You’re eighteen, and insecure, and he’s in such a powerful position — he could have anyone he wants, and he loves you, so he picks you. Maybe Fumiko is just bitter because no one’s ever chosen her. 

— angel of the morning, atsumu miya elevator pitch: historical, ambiguous war au ft. soldier!atsumu x the civilian sweetheart reader who nurses him back to health

It’s the thunder that wakes you first. 

Lately, you’ve been a light sleeper. Paranoia is a good companion whenever you’re a young, pitifully unmarried lady who lives alone. You keep a chair propped under the knob of the front door, and you no longer open any windows, scared that you’ll forget to lock them at night. 

Normally, it’s the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer, or the creaks that come and interrupt the silence of the night (your parents used to swear that old houses just make those noises) that keeps you up. Sometimes it’s the neighbors next door; they like to get into screaming matches that seem to be so loud, they shake the walls of your home. 

It’s not your neighbors’ arguing that rattles the walls tonight. It’s the thunderstorm that the sweet old man at the farmer’s market warned you about. You be safe out, miss. Take some extra apples. It might be too flooded for you to go out like you normally do. 

You pull your blanket over your head, enveloping yourself in darkness but doing very little to block out the noise outside. The thunder seems to only grow louder, each boom punctuating the lightning that you’re certain is striking through the sky. It’s too loud. 

And rhythmic. 

You listen closer… Three booms in succession. A pause. Three more booms. After a minute of this pattern, the sound only comes more rapidly — louder than before, too. 

The loud booms — it’s not from the storm, then. 

There’s someone knocking at your door. 

You debate hiding under the blanket forever. Maybe this stranger will go away and leave once they realize that no one is going to answer the door. Besides, no one trustworthy is roaming the area at this time of night, right? What possible explanation could there be for someone to be stranded outside at midnight during a major thunderstorm? 

But the knocking persists. Whoever this stranger is, they don’t know when to quit. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so paralyzed with fear. 

“Open up!” A muffled voice still manages to cut through the front door, traveling all the way to your bedroom. It only serves to make you more afraid; what sort of monster is waiting for you outside? The storm rages on, and the knocking won’t stop. 

What happens if this person is in genuine trouble? Would a murderer truly be going through such lengths to kill someone? A thief? 

Well, you rationalize, it’s not as if you have many items worth stealing. Besides, you have no family, no marriage prospects, and a dwindling stash of money with no means to make more. You’re just existing at this point, and you’re surviving on limited time.

So you make your way to the front door, cringing as one section of the floor creaks as you tiptoe through the darkness of your home. You highly doubt the stranger outside can hear you, but you still hold your breath as you peek through the curtains. It’s too dark inside and out for anyone to notice the movement, and all you can make out is a large figure. There’s a knapsack by their feet and hanging off their shoulder is a gun. 

The knocks shouldn’t catch you off guard by now, but one particular hard bang against the door has you jumping in surprise, away from the window. 

This stranger must be a soldier. 

There’s not a lot of fighting to be done down here. The southern towns have mostly been unaffected. Most of the war is being fought up north. All the southern soldiers write back home, telling stories about the cities they visited, careful not to mention the red that runs through the streets and the way the citizens will have to update the population count on the sign outside their City Hall. 

But still, you know what everyone knows — when a soldier, especially one from your side, shows up on your front step, you better let him know that this home is now his. 

You slide the deadbolt with shaky hands, turn the lock on the doorknob, and only hesitate for a few seconds before removing the chair that serves as your last barrier. He’s a soldier, you remind yourself, hoping that you’re not wrong. The least you can do for him is offer him a hot bath for leaving him outside for so long. 

You open the door, revealing a blond-haired soldier weighed down from the weight of his sopping wet uniform, his hair sticking to his forehead because his face is also covered in rainwater, and it’s now that you notice that he’s got one arm wrapped around his abdomen. His hand is pressing down on his side, and you don’t think the dark liquid coating his fingers is water. 

“Finally.” He says. “I’m First Lieutenant Miya, and I fight for the south. I am seeking temporary refuge in your home, and I require only what you can afford to give me. I–“ Before he can finish rattling off what he’s been forced to memorize for times like these, First Lieutenant Miya falls forward, his body crashing into yours. 

It’s been a rough day. 

A rough week. 

A rough month.

A rough life, really, but Atsumu Miya’s long past the days of whining and complaining about things he can’t control. For example, he no longer dwells on his father abandoning his mother right before she gave birth to him and Osamu. There’s still a bitter taste that gets left on his tongue when he mentions dear old pa, which is why, for the most part, he chooses not to discuss him at all. He can’t control the way the north and the south view each other; sure, the mandatory draft isn’t his definition of a fun time, but he honestly didn’t have many plans after school, anyway. He probably would’ve joined the cause, regardless of the law or not. It’s just… A choice is nice to have, y’know? 

Like, if he had it his way, he wouldn’t have gotten caught up in some ambush tonight. If only he weren’t just a lieutenant. If only his captain weren’t such a dumbass.

If he had a group to command, Atsumu’s certain that he wouldn’t lead his men into obvious traps, unlike some captains. But newly promoted Brigadier General Kita isn’t here to force people to listen to what Atsumu has to say. Kita has bigger problems to worry about, bigger troops to organize. 

Atsumu’s morning starts off bright and early with a five mile trek in the woods. The sky is overcast, and anyone with eyes is capable of predicting the storm that’s coming. Atsumu suggests building temporary shelter before the rain makes it too hard to walk; it’s already hard enough to navigate now, but Atsumu’s visited this town before, when he was a little boy. It floods easily, too easily. 

His captain doesn’t listen. Typical.

Around noon, they take a short break to eat. Rations are getting lower. Atsumu suggests that two or three soldiers turn around and head towards town to get supplies. His captain argues that their group is already small enough and sneers that Atsumu must be a northie lover since he’s trying so hard to sabotage this plan. 

The plan is shit, by the way. The captain swears his intel is good, that he’s just oh so certain that a troop of northern soldiers are planning to invade a series of small southern towns. They’re supposedly cutting through the woods to be discreet, and they plan on striking at night.

Atsumu thinks that the captain is just falling into their trap (spoiler: he’s right). There’s no way anyone would bother capturing small towns, just like there’s no way people ever want to listen to someone who’s just a lieutenant. Nobody thinks they have anything to offer, so it’s not worth the time to even pretend to care. These towns aren’t loaded with resources. They aren’t located in any coveted areas. There are only a couple of farms, but even then, they’re not big enough to justify wasting troops to terrorize the townspeople. 

But First Lieutenant Miya follows his orders anyway because what else is he supposed to do? Unfortunately, talking back comes to bite him in the ass because as nighttime starts to settle and the first drops of rain start to fall, his captain gives him a slimy smile before telling him, “Since you have such great ideas, Lieutenant, why don’t you go ahead and turn back into town to get us some of those supplies we needed?”

Well, Atsumu has a few choice words in reply, none of which will get him back into his captain’s good graces (not like he cares to be anyway). Atsumu can argue that it’s dark out, and no one in their right mind is going to be up at night. Atsumu can throw back his captain’s words and remind him that their measly team is already lacking in numbers. He can make the captain look dumb and ask him where the supposed enemy troops are at, since apparently they’re supposed to be capturing the town right about now. He can abandon the men, go back home, and enjoy a homecooked meal from ma. She wouldn’t care enough to scold him for being a dirty deserter; the lecture will come, surely, but she wouldn’t be too harsh with him. Atsumu misses home. He misses his brother, who belongs to a different troop. He misses Shinsuke, his former captain. He misses his mom. 

What he does end up doing, though, is biting back his tongue. He barely nods, clenches his teeth as he reluctantly says yes, sir, and treks off on his own. 

He’s about three miles in when the bullets start flying. 

Isn’t this just a lovely way to finish off the night, he thinks, before sprinting through the trees, weaving between them, trying to ignore how loud and how close the shots sound. He thinks he’ll probably go deaf by the time this damn war is over. A bullet narrowly misses his face, and then he starts to think he’ll probably be dead before then.

He can’t see. If he can’t see, he doubts the enemies can, either. That’s when he gets an idea. His legs are sore, he’s thirsty, and every step he takes is punctuated by a sloshing sound because the area is flooding, just like he predicted it would.

(Sometimes it’s a pain being right all the time.)

The shots are still coming at him in rapid succession, and he believes maybe it’s because they still think they have to shoot at him. If they think they got him, maybe they’ll leave him alone. It didn’t sound like anyone was bothering to chase after him, meaning they’re all probably perched in trees or hiding in bushes, shooting blindly into the night, hoping to land a lucky shot on a target. 

Before he can pretend to be hit, though, some bastard does get a lucky shot on him.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but yell out, the bullet piercing the side of his abdomen. A burning sensation begins to form on the spot where the bullet decided to make its happy home, and Atsumu can’t help but fall to the ground, clutching at the bottom half of his body. 

A minute goes by with no more shooting, and he’s glad he’s in enough pain not to realize that had he thought of his little plan of pretending to be shot sooner, he probably wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. 

It’d be so easy just to lie down and die. It’d be a slow death, sure. Painful, very much so. But no more fighting. No more captains belittling him. 

But if you die, a tiny voice in his head reminds him, it wouldn’t just be you that dies. It’d kill ma. It would ruin Osamu. Don’t be a selfish bastard. 

He allows himself only one more minute to stay absolutely still. He thinks the adrenaline pumping in his system helps to numb the pain, which is saying a lot, considering the fact that death would be preferable over this excruciating sensation. When he’s certain the coast is clear, he struggles to stand and keep himself steady.

He cannot die like this. 

Atsumu Miya knows better than to get upset at things he can’t control. He can’t control flying bullets aimed at him. He can’t control enemy soldiers; hell, he doesn’t even have soldiers he can control, enemy or ally. He can’t control a lot of shitty things that seem to happen to him, but as long as his heart is still beating, Atsumu Miya controls his own fate. He decides what happens next. 

It’s only a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, he rationalizes. He walks all the time. It’s not such a hard task. The storm continues to rage on, and Atsumu pretends he doesn’t even mind the water. He pretends that he’s not freezing. He pretends that he doesn’t care that his uniform is sticking to his body, making the dirty fabric cling onto him as if to act as a second skin. 

There’s a white flag in his knapsack. During training, they said to use it as a last resort. Die before you wave it, or something like that. 

He knows the intended use for it, but right now, he needs it as a tourniquet. He tightens the flag around his waist, using all his diminishing strength to get it as tight as possible. He can trick himself into thinking it’ll stop the flow of blood leaving his body, but at least it’ll slow it down. It’ll grant him enough time to make it into town and get help. 

He doesn’t choose the first house he sees; he chooses the one he likes the best. It’s nothing all too impressive — certainly not the biggest, but from what he can make out in the dark, it looks quaint. It reminds him of home, almost. There’s a porch with a bench outside and flowers on a window sill. It seems to glow in the darkness of the town, its paint a much brighter shade than the surrounding houses. A nice family must live here then. 

He knocks on the door, and there is no answer. Atsumu Miya did not walk this far with his life literally draining out of him to only make it this far. He knocks and knocks, and because he is too stubborn, even to the very end, he doesn’t quit. Someone must answer the door. It doesn’t cross his mind that perhaps this lovely family he’s envisioning might not even be home. It feels like ages since he first started banging on this door, and he thinks this might be it.

And then the door swings open, revealing a young lady with a certain glow about her. Maybe it’s the blood loss talking, but right now, you look like an absolute angel. His bright beacon of hope. 

“Finally.” He swallows hard, trying to remember what he’s supposed to tell you. The proper words are evading him right now. Honestly, even standing is a struggle now. He thinks he does a good enough job, but then he blinks, and his eyes don’t open back up after that.

— to the victor belong the spoils, naoya zenin elevator pitch: the dark longfic i mentioned abt borderline yandere naoya + how he basically slaughtered your whole entire clan and is going to force you to marry him because you have a cursed technique that will basically grant him invincibility

“Who did this?” You’ve seen Naoya so angry that his words seemed to shake the very interior of the room he was shouting in. You’ve seen Naoya so furious that he had everyone in his vicinity cowering in fear, scared to face his merciless wrath. Never have you seen him so enraged that he can hardly speak, the sentence coming out from between bared teeth; they’re discernible growls more than they are words, but his message doesn’t need to be understood in order to know his intent. 

Naoya Zenin is out for blood. 

“Tell me who did this.” He demands, hand gripping your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and stare him directly in the eyes. You know why he does this; he can read you like a fucking book. He’ll know if you’re lying before you can even finish whatever fabricated story you’ve spent forever formulating. There’s no point in trying to trick him because it’ll cause him to get angrier, and then what? Then, you’ll have the whole entire room’s blood on your hands. A massacre dedicated just for you. 

You hadn’t cried when he had taken you from your home. You hadn’t cried when you were about to be killed by that curse. You hadn’t shed a single tear despite the unfamiliarity of the Zenin Estate, despite the fact that you were forced into a marriage with a man you did not know, despite the fact that you’ve never been this far from home, suffering silently in feelings of isolation and despair. You hadn’t cried after all of that, yet now you’re sobbing? Now you’re here, struggling to stand on your own, clutching onto the material of his shirt as if he’s your only lifeline, dangerously close to burying your face in his chest and crying your little eyes out. He’s been angry more times than he’s ever felt any other emotion. He’s numb to the feeling of his blood rising, of his vision being tainted with red, of having nothing but sick thoughts and vivid memories of torn flesh and severed limbs surrounding him. This emotion isn’t foreign to him; it’s a part ofhim. And he’s angry, yes, but there’s something else that he feels when he looks down and sees you making yourself smaller, as if trying to use him as your own personal shield.

— balancing act [chapter one], satoru gojo elevator pitch: the first month of your bet will you and gojo inevitably get together <3 the start of this series.

You have what you order down to a T. You first started your tried and true method of restaurant ordering when you were but a wee little intern, too shy to go to town on a rack of ribs in front of your peers and bosses. Once you entered the city’s dating scene (which is actually Dante’s tenth circle of hell — it’s just never discussed because that’s truly how vile trying to find a good man in a big city is), you realized that there’s not much difference between lunch dates and client lunches. 

You have the obligatory greeting exchanges (“hi,” “hello,” “how are you,” etc.), the awkward smiles, the mental countdown going off in your head as you wait for the perfect moment to get right into business (“what do you expect to gain from this partnership?” — a line surprisingly used more often in your meetings with potential investors and clients). There’s the pained professionalism, the tight-lipped smiles, the napkin resting in your lap, the battle to maintain constant eye-contact. When you sit across from someone at a table, date or client, you don’t see the person; you see a goal. 

And you’re good at working towards a goal. It’s why you’ve always been the analyst your managers rely on, why you’ve morphed into the senior associate that all your juniors look up to at G&G Capital, and why you automatically figure that if you set your sights on a man only to have him end things, it’s not you who was at fault. It has to be him. You’ve charmed the toughest clients and built fantastic working relationships with the most well-connected M&A lawyers; if you’re this good at professional relationships, why wouldn’t you also be fan-fucking-tastic at a romantic one? 

All the men who have taken you out on dates before wanted to sweep you off your feet. An ex-boyfriend once admitted to you that you appeared so unimpressed at everything, it had become this fun, twisted competition with himself to see what he had to do to get a look of amazement on your face. 

“I can tell by the look on your face that you’re impressed.” Gojo says gleefully, holding open the dirty glass door so you and Utahime can walk in. 

Utahime looks like Gojo just slid open the backdoor to a white van and told her to get in. There’s shock with a hint of disgust evident on her pretty, doll-like features, and you know you’ve got a similar expression, too. 

The floors inside this restaurant — if the dingy, dimly lit shack crammed with small tables and rickety chairs can even be considered a restaurant — are sticky with decades’ worth of mystery liquids that have congealed into the half-inch thick residue that coats the floorboards. You have to purposely think about moving one foot in front of the other in order to walk because actual pressure needs to be applied if you don’t want your heels to become glued to the floor. You’re walking in front of Utahime and Gojo, and you end up choosing a table in the far back; it looks the cleanest. Briefly, you wonder if you’re allowed to be here, then think better of it as Utahime takes the seat next to you, and Gojo takes the one across. You highly doubt there’s a hostess here that’s dictating where the customers sit.

Especially since, upon one glance of the whole place, you realize that it’s empty save for you three. 

“Gojo, if we get killed, I hope they murder you in front of us first,” Utahime hisses. Her family’s so rich (and traditional), she’s never willingly been to a restaurant that doesn’t have a Michelin star. Before college, she’s never even eaten out at a chain restaurant. Being caught in a place like this has Utahime mentally spiraling towards rock bottom. 

“I hope they would, too. I don’t think I have the stomach to watch you meet your grisly end.” Gojo says serenely. Usually, he says things loudly, teasingly, gets all up in your face. When it comes to Utahime, he likes to play at being nonchalant. He’s been doing this to her for over a decade now, and it still grates her. 

Before Utahime can reply, the shaky voice of an older woman is exclaiming, “Oh! Welcome in! Have you gotten a chance to look over the menu?” The voice belongs to a short, plump woman with gray hair, a wrinkly face, but a kind smile that reveals yellowing teeth. She’s got a slight hunch to her back and nails with overgrown cuticles. You try to do a mental calculation of what you could buy this building for, to ensure that this sweet old lady never has to work a day in her life ever again. 

“You know what I want, Mrs. Kimura.” Gojo is giving her one of his signature dazzling smiles. “You can just double the portions today since my friend Utahime here eats enough for a family of five.” 

Mrs. Kimura lets out a throaty laugh. Utahime kicks Gojo in the shin from underneath the table. You’re wondering what Gojo orders from this place, and why does he order here so often to the point of them memorizing his meals? 

“I’m glad you brought friends with you today, Satoru. Meals always taste better when shared with loved ones!” She directs a warm smile in your direction, and you feel bad for returning it with your normal polite one. Tiny and brief. It’s more muscle memory than born from any real emotion. She’s shuffling away to the kitchen before you can try to summon a genuine smile for her, and Utahime’s phone is ringing, filling this near empty space with the tinny, anxiety-inducing sound of an iPhone ringer. 

She doesn’t excuse herself; just looks down at the glowing screen, grabs her phone, and heads outside to take the call.

Which leaves you sitting across from Gojo. Just the two of you. Just the two of you in a dingy restaurant seemingly run by only one old woman. The table looks older than you. The chair you’re sitting on makes a weird squeaky noise with any slight movement of your body. There’s no decor on the walls, no windows either. Nothing to distract you, nothing for you to feign interest in as you wait for Utahime to come back. 

You straighten your posture, try to discreetly look out the front door to gauge how close Utahime is to wrapping up her conversation, and find yourself with no choice but to look in front of you. All you see is Gojo.

He’s tall, you know that. Broad shoulders. Definitely not hideous, you can give him that much. You just feel shocked at how much space he takes up, how it feels like your eyes have to stretch to try to accommodate all of him. 

You don’t know why you feel so awkward, almost like a teenager going on her very first date with a boy she barely knows but still, for some inexplicable reason, wants so badly to impress. You can’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt this way, and you definitely don’t like this feeling at all. 

“How’d you find this place?” You ask him.

“I like to support small businesses.” He’s not teasing you, but Gojo has this bad habit of always adding a playful inflection to his words. 

“I hope you tip well. You look like their only supporter.” It’s not meant to be an insult to the painfully empty restaurant. You know how much Gojo is worth; when Itadori Googled “Satoru Gojo net worth” and showed the results to everyone, Gojo caught him in the act, looked at the top result, and threw his head back in laughter as he told Itadori to “add an extra zero and triple the number.” You think back to your calculation and assessment of the place. “Might as well buy the business.” 

“You make capitalism so cute.” He has to be teasing you now. You scowl. 

(He means it.)

— i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed, satoru gojo elevator pitch: yandere gojo, royal au, nanny!reader... yeah idk what happened to this fic either, just that it was depraved and i wish i wrote more to share LOL

You’re acutely aware of the noise you’re making, every huff and small, desperate gasp for breath only further betraying your location, but you can’t find it in you to care.

You know, deep inside your pounding, frightened heart, that it doesn’t really matter how fast or how far you run. 

I will always find you.

Just the mere thought of him is enough for you to ignore the ache in your legs and push forward. If you can find the exit, if you can just see the daylight, surely you’d be able to—

You stop in your tracks.

There are two paths: one right, one wrong. Left or right? Freedom or imprisonment? 

There’s no time to waste, but you can’t make a choice. Which decision would be the right one? Surely either route would still be able to lead you to the exit, right? The sharp snap! of a branch being trampled on leaves you even more frightened. Without thinking, you take a left.

— i think you're too divine for my human mind, undecided elevator pitch: rough around the edges but w a heart of gold underground fighter!character x ring girl!reader. i think this was gonna be for bakugo LMAO but i do not have bnha brain rot so maybe a bllk or jjk or hq boy... NO ONE SAY ATSUMU I DON'T WANNA GIVE IT TO ATSUMU

The couch seems to shift with his weight, and you swallow hard, staring straight ahead at the same cement wall you’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes because you’re still too much of a fucking wimp to navigate this area by yourself. 

Despite the two of you sitting at opposite ends of the couch, there’s only about one foot of space separating his knee from yours. You suppose that he gets away with the manspreading since he probably has no qualms with punching anyone who voices their offense. After witnessing just how brutal the infamous [ring name nickname] can get, you know that you’re definitely not going to be the one to say shit to him. You can’t even look at him.

Where the fuck is your sister? You have your arms crossed, covering your torso, and you think you must have subconsciously pressed yourself as far back into the couch as you possibly could. Everything about you must scream out “she wants to disappear!!!”, and the worst part of it all would be the fact that it’s the truth. You knew coming down here would be a bad idea, and the sinking feeling of regret is practically solidifying itself into your stomach. You think you could throw up. 

“Hey,” a voice — a deep voice, scratchy and low and so scarily close to you — breaks the silence. “You must be…”

Of course, you’re used to it by now. Always being referred to as “Akemi’s little sister” no matter the situation, the person, the setting. It makes sense, you rationalize. Everyone knows Akemi. And so, by extension, they must know you — her shadow, her little sister. 

“...helped out Sakura.” 

“What?” You don’t know anyone named Sakura, but you finally turn your head to properly look at him as you answer. He’s got on a white shirt now, incredibly form-fitting, and he’s staring right back at you. You're quick to meet his eyes before getting too nervous and focusing on the space just below his eyes. Then, that becomes too close to eye contact for comfort, so you settle for staring at his jaw. It’s a nice jaw. Sharp. He could probably cut you with it if you contradict any of his statements, so maybe you should pretend to know this Sakura girl. 

“You must be the girl that helped out Sakura.” He repeats. He says it slow and almost carefully, like he thinks you must be some sort of idiot who can’t comprehend the most basic of statements. “Gave her your jacket.” He clarifies, and it makes sense. The girl with the hot pink colored hair must have been Sakura. 

“Yeah.” You nod. 

“So why are you here?” 

“Huh?”

“Y’know… Pretty girls like you don’t normally end up here without a reason. So what’s your reason?”

He says it so casually, throwing it out there as easily as a punch. He probably means nothing deep by it, probably doesn’t even realize the fact that it is a compliment. 

He called you pretty.

“My sister.” You answer, finally looking away at him to look down at your hands that have settled nicely into your lap. Your cheeks feel a lot warmer than they did a second ago. You decide to blame this as a result of too many sweaty people in one basement. 

“She a ring girl?” 

“She’s dating a fighter here.”

“And you?”

“What about me?” 

“Are you dating a fighter here, too?” 

You look him properly in his face after that comment, almost resisting the urge to laugh. Fear that he’ll get offended and smack you into the floor stops that reaction. Instead, you stare at him, slightly surprised, lips almost curled up into an amused smile at just how unbelievable it would be for you to date anyone like him. 

“You finally did it.” 

“Did what?” 

“Look at me.” He holds eye contact, almost as if he’s trying to challenge you into looking away. “I don’t bite, y’know.” He smiles, showing off a surprisingly straight row of white teeth, not a single tooth missing despite the nature of his… job. “It’s against the rules.”

Yeah. Because [character], the fucking [ring name nickname], looks like the type of man who follows the rules.

[sundrop-writes]

Over the past few days, I have not at all been feeling a good creative flow, and it's really been throwing me off. I have really been trying to work on the winners of the last polls - I think the longer Daryl fic is tabled for now. I wrote out the entire plot for it, all the details of my ideas so that I can come back to it later. But when I was actually trying to write it out, I was having 0 flow with it. I am still trying to work on the Rosita PWP fic because it's something I really want to do.

But I also want to work on a longer oneshot, and I was thinking that something that would be really creatively fulfilling for me would be to do a remake/repost of one of my older fics. I have several fics for The Walking Dead that are currently on AO3 that are not on Tumblr, and I think that those fics could use some editing and improvement and then they could be brought to Tumblr all new and shiny and amazing.

Two of these would be more of a repost - most of the fic would still be the same. One or two scenes will be added to enhance the story and most of the editing will be around grammar and slight sentences here and there, but I do mostly consider them up to my current standards.

And the other two fics will be complete remakes (I think I will still have the old versions present on AO3, and upload the new versions as completely new fics with the same title, or possibly even change the name, who knows). These fics were written a long time ago, and they are written in my old style, so I want to overhaul them completely to put them up to my new standards. (Especially the Glenn x Reader fic - it would be completely unrecognisable compared to the old version. The only thing that would be the same is the bare bones plot.)

So, out of these four fics (and I do encourage you to go and read the fics if you haven't before to better inform your decision) - which one would you like to see a shiny new version of?

And, keep in mind, because I will be working on this fic and focusing on it, I am likely to write a continuation of the fic beyond what it had before, because I am focusing on new ideas for it. (Yes, even Hold Me Tight Or Don't might be getting a continuation - I have something up my sleeve inspired by a really amazing commenter.)

Potential Reposts (fics that will be slightly edited):

The World Is Ugly - Maggie Greene x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Angst and Smut with a Fluffy Ending. Set during Season 2 and Season 4. When you arrive at Hershel’s farm with the group, you are hiding two very important secrets: you are a lesbian (which is very controversial in the religious south) - and you self harm. Eventually, Maggie finds out both of these things, and despite your first impressions of her - doesn’t judge you for either of them. In fact, she falls deeper in love with you. (21,400 words.)

Hold Me Tight Or Don’t - Glenn Rhee x Fem!Reader x Maggie Greene. Established Poly Relationship. Smut and Heavy Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 4. After being bitten while trying to help get Glenn and Maggie to safety, you are facing your last hours of life. And in those last hours, you only have one wish - to have sex with your partners one last time. Luckily for you, they would do anything for you, and they can’t help but to oblige. (7,200 words.)

Potential Remakes (fics that will be completely overhauled):

Day and Night - Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Strangers to ‘Lovers’. Fluff and Hurt/Comfort. Set Pre-Season 4. When Daryl gets into some trouble on a hunt and gets shot, a random stranger comes to his rescue. He doesn’t expect that stranger to be beautiful, kind, and to make him a candlelit dinner after treating his wounds. (Wait - is this a date?) (5,000 words.) - NOTE: this fic is the only one of the four that does not feature smut, and I'm not sure if a remake would include smut or if I would keep the rating and the vibe the same.

State of Emergency - Glenn Rhee x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Smut. Set in an AU of Season 1. When Glenn encounters his first zombie, he knocks on your door for help. Because you’ve seen all the zombie apocalypse media, you’re well prepared. The two of you decide to wait out the end of the world together - and you warm up to each other very quickly. (3,400 words.)

[mytearsbuckochet]

What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.

Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??

In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.

Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.

[hanafubukki]

Hi, here Cottage Life Anon :3 I like this name a lot, but sadly I didn't find a cute Cottage emoji, so here the chosen one: 🦋

Being 🦋 Anon while been know for talking about a timetravel fic and the whole timeline mess it's involve is actually quite funny 😂

Happy to be one of your partners in crime, it's seems this timeline OT3 ending have beautiful days before it !

I'm pretty sure Dawny would be offered a job at RSA as a sword teacher. And he would also took care of a kind of fencing club in NRC :3 (Man wants to bring money at home- He was a houseman back in the time because Silver was a baby and the situation between him and the fae was still not so good so now he wants to be more active after his sleep 🥹)

I crave for Y/n schoolmate reaction 😭 The Adeuce duo + Grim are the most incredible. But everyone is priceless. "The F- Silver is your child ? He's older than you !" (In a scenario where Y/n be back at her regular age as a first year when returning in the present-)

Perhaps Lilia hid the whole truth to Silver. Like, if he was awake before the Knight, perhaps he thought it was an accident. And if Meleanor and Levan don't success to put the child back to sleep, it can add fuel to the idea. Lilia could be scared that Silver would never met his mother and other father because of a magic problem. The rest of the event would be similar to the original timeline.

Actually, timetravel and changing timeline is a trope that have many different concept, views and solution. But I kinda like the idea of a timeline "arranging/reguling itself" so the flows of event do not become too much aberrant after some big change (and it's actually a pretty simple way to avoid time paradox- 🫥). It can also explain Y/n returning. Because honestly, I think no one would willingly go back to the present (in another world-) after having a kid and living in a cute Cottage with 2 handsome and perfect husbands-

Plus Teen Silver play a essential role in original timeline. Because without him, no dream, no saving, Y/n in Malleus dream forever, no timetravel after that, no story- And I need him to meet Sebek and Malleus because sad croco boi need his training brother figure and big lonely prince need to save baby from Lilia's cooking. Meleanor and Levan have their limits-

(How that in a time where Malleus parents are alive because of the changing timeline there is no reason to explain any reguling of it because it's nonsense ? But- My Diasomnia family fluff- 🥹)

I actually have a little thing started in a text document for this OT3 🫡 I run free for it-

Thank you for initiated this OT3 😭

(References: Fanfic, Ask 1, Ask 2, Ask 3, Ask 4, Ask 5, Ask 6)

Hello 🦋 Anonie,

Wonderful choice of emoji 🦋 Anonie! I love this emoji and like you said, there is irony in using such a symbol. Namely the OT3, Time travel, and the butterfly effect 👏☺️😂 Let's go my partner in crime 💚🙌

Yes, considering all the pain and suffering the original canon timeline went. I wanted this OT3 timeline to have a happy ending for them. 💚🥰 There will still be struggles of course, but in the end, I want them to have a wonderful ending.

Dawny being more active and wanting to bring financial stability to his family is so sweet. I can see him become a teacher at RSA and mentor the students there and NRC. He doesn't want to anyone to feel left out so he sets up a club at NRC. Lilia would mention how he has more than enough money for their family, but of course, Dawny does not want to just let Lilia handle everything. And really, how can anyone say no to those determined looking eyes?

This will allow him to not only have a reason to visit both schools, but he can also spend time with his son and his classmates. I can see Silver and Sebek popping in occasionally to train with Dawny. After all, learning from two powerful warriors can only help them in the future as knights for Malleus. I can also see them being Dawny's training partner for the other students who want to learn and observe as well.

Then you also have Lilia and Dawny, I can imagine they would both have practice fights to show off to the students. YN warned them not to get hurt and not to destroy anything during their spar.

Currently timeline shenanigans with YN's schoolmates is what I love, especially for the first years. Jack is extra alert because you're a mom...or well, mom figure? And as a wolf, they take pride in protecting maternal figures. But he is also so confused because how does he treat you? You are still in his same year and age.

Then you have Epel, I can see him switch from Miss to Mrs. to Ma'am and just get frustrated. 🤣 Sebek is going through all the emotions. You’re a human who is very well loved, wife of Lord Lilia but also somehow Silver's mother and the wife of the Knight of Dawn, someone help this boy. He starts treating you with great respect, but you have to stop him and compromise with him. At school and other places, he can just treat you normally. If he's comfortable, he can be respectful back in Briar Valley. After all, you're friends with Sebek and you want it to stay that way and you dont want that to change because of some status he thinks you have now.

The "Silver is older than you" comment has me laughing.

Here are some other Twst character interactions I can think of once they found out.

Leona: Now calls you 'Lady or Princess" with that smirk on his face, trying to irritate you.

Kalim: finds this whole situation interesting. He doesn't fully understand it but as long as everyone is happy he's happy.

Jamil is now worried because he now has to worry about more people not to offend...and then he remembers what he did to you in book 4 and watch him hide in his hoodie.

Rook: loves the chaos and all the emotions around him. I can see him want to spar with both Dawny and Lilia.

Idia: is wondering how some of his favorite tropes in anime/games became real. He is also slowly trying to disappear because too many beautiful people and he doesn't want the attention.

Ortho: Well, he's having fun calculating the likelihood of this entire situation happening. In short, wow YN, you really beat the odds in everything you do.

I can imagine the pain and suffering Lilia went through to hide the truth from Silver. He loves Silver and is happy to raise him as his son, after all Silver is his son, but it hurts him that you and Dawny couldn't be there to see how your three's special boy grew up. YN and Dawny would have to step in not to only assuage this guilt and comfort him, but to do the same with Silver.

Silver would definitely need to be sat down and talk to about all this, about how loved he is and how you three are happy to see him happy and healthy.

Exactly! Who wants to return to their normal life after having such a precious family? Especially who wants to be annoyed by the headmaster constantly? So this is a win-win on all situations.

Thinking about the original timeline and how while it is the same, it is still different for all the good ways. Sebek has his best friend, Malleus got to help raise Silver and have his parents, and Silver gets extra family members who love him.

Meleanor: The spoiling aunt who will dress up her child and Silver (and later Sebek) in cute clothes, will kidnap him whenever Lilia isn't looking or Malleus tries to hide Silver from Lilia's cooking.

Levan: Who can also teach Silver and Sebek history and tactics. He can tell them stories and calm down his wife when she gets hyper.

For Diasomnia Family fluff, we can forgive and change anything to our needs 🦋 anonie 🙌

Ahhhhh I'm so happy to hear that 🦋 anonie!!! That brings me a lot of joy, that you loved this idea I had so much, that you started writing too 🥰🥹 It brings me happiness that I can inspire others to create. You have no idea. Please, if you end up finishing it, please share it with me. If you post it here on Tumblr, please tag me or send me a link if you are comfortable. Or you can always use the ask box too to share. I would love to read it 😭🥹💚

You're very welcome! This OT3 has become a comfort for me, and I am so happy to see others interested and loving it too. I love that people are joining the love for it. It brings me so much happiness, especially since it has such a close place in my heart.

Thank you as always fro sending this in 🦋anonie.