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#by me forcing them outside i mean im forcing myself to go outside
ihatebrainstorm · 27 days
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Acquired some old men today and forced them to go outside
They’re on an adventure :D)-(
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dog-girl-zezora · 1 year
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My problematic trait is that I will watch chaos unfold around my coworkers and not offer any help unless they look to me for it
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feywildfox · 2 years
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Mm i left bandom space a long long time ago. I mean I'm not that old but ten years ago is still pretty long. And frankly if i overstep lemme know.
Honestly at this point i shouldnt be surprised so many people are actually still inherently racist towards Ray, but also i think, i should be. Because i genuinely expected better from mcr bandom, but again, left bandom spaces a decade ago...
It's pretty sad? Like. I'll admit, I didn't realize Ray was actually a man of colour when i was younger. I think i realized right around the time i left at 15 or so. Which also really goes to show that racism towards him and making him seem as white as possible which definitely i think was a thing. Like in comparison, I knew pete wentz was mixed long before i figured out Ray was a poc. It says a lot about the space at the time and i had honestly thought it'd be better now.
I've loved mcr for years, but i havent been IN love with them for a while. It happens, relationships and feeling wax and wane. But this tour, the excitement and love recently ignited in not just Gerard with all their gender fuckery, but the whole band, has brought a love and joy back into my life for music that hit me in the heart as a preteen and teenager.
And none of that would be possible without Ray Toro putting his all into the feelings and conveying of in his music. Mikey made the band, but ray MAKES the band. He is absolutely fucking integral and it is disgusting & disheartening to see him treated such a way. What the fuck even, hearing that streamers are zooming in on frank during Rays solos?? Like do the fuck better? I'm honestly disappointed as fuck in that shit. Like I know this whole thing is a little disjointed stream of consciousness type post but really. White people do better challenge! Its literally SO fucking easy. The real camera guys are RIGHT THERE showing what to fucking do!
You can love the others as much as you want but jesus fuck give Ray the same fucking courtesy. Stop ignoring your racism, start recognizing the issues that plague you from being white and growing up in white privilege. I sure as fuck still have plenty of shit to work on but at least i can say i can do the bare fucking MINIMUM of giving Ray Toro the respect and attention he absolutely fucking deserves.
Like I do hope this is understood I am not trying to speak over anyone but simply say from one white to another: you need to do better. If that's how you treat a member of supposedly one of your fav bands, i genuinely fear for the poc you encounter in your life. The harm you cause by staying blind may be incremental but it builds up until it's a mountain. Do fucking better.
#not the picturesque emo#fans#its 1 am so this is not. the modt coherent thing but i hope it gets the point across as someone who has been outside of bandom space#i mever realized how big an issue it was but honestly i should have known#im not going point at myself as a pure example of what to do because honestly ive loved mcr from a distance for a while#i have always loved them all but literally its ridiculous coming back ten years later#and finding out that yeah no. rays apparently or whatever the fuck#like uh what. emo is a style#its a sounds a love language a voice for people an expression#sure there are certain clothes or jewelry or makeup that can play into it but NONE of that actually means shit#because it can be turned corpo and ripped up and spat back all sanatized. ray is emo. ray is a man of colour. he's a rock god on the guitar#NONE of that is mutally fucking exclusive! ray toro is just as important as anyone else in the band#ray toro deserves SO much respect and he does NOT deserve to have people claim they are of mcr then treat him like that#you are not an mcr fan you are a pretentious racist asshole who needs to check ther privileges at the fucking gate thank you#fox squawks#im tired and angry now and im sorry to all the poc in the fandom who have to deal w this on a constant basis you all deserve a lot better#im sure yall feel way worse than i do and i genuinely hope people can realize the shit theyve been doing.#i am always happy to go toe to toe w other dumbass white ppl and call them out on their bs#i dont see it because i curate my dash to the point drama is usually a mild breeze at best but i am more than willing to#weaponize my whiteness to force other white ppl to think. if you gotta point me at em do it idc. like a lil attack chihuahua or something.#idk#im lagging now but my fingers dont want to stop typing bc i am nervous abt posting this but yknow. whatever if i fuck up i learn & move on!#we Do Not succumb to white guilt we gracefully say im sorry for that thank you for pointing it out even though you didnt have to i know its#exhausting to do constantly i will keep that in mind and then we do! and we modify our behavior! and we DO. BETTER
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flawless-peach · 3 months
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activities to improve your life
(in no way do you have to do these or all of them in order to improve, these ade just little things to do to help you feel good about yourself <3)
- go on walks outside, or just get outside in someway. in the summers my boyfriend and I would walk a couple blocks to get a snowcone. now that's its spring I walk to the gas station near by to pick up energy drink for my boyfriend (spring semester)
- wake up earlier, now this one is important to me because I am a huge morning person and so is everyone in my family. but some people aren't naturally morning people. so dont feel like im saying wake up at 5am. I more mean wake up with enough time to enjoy your morning and look forward to the day, you don't want to rush to get ready
- drink an appropriate amount of water, I personally aim for about 60oz now, which I don't hot everyday, but when I first started trying to drink more water I started out with 20oz because I just wasn't drinking water. so don't push yourself because you'll only hate the water rather than appreciate what it can do for you
- journal every day. I normally don't journal about my day until the next morning as I reflect on the previous day, because I don't want the day to "end" before it's actually over. but I try to write reviews about episodes of the shows i like or take notes over my audiobooks and try to think about why I like/dislike them. I find that this helps me so that whenever I start getting emotionally overwhelmed to slow down and put into words what's wrong rather than just being overwhelmed
- working out to feel good rather than look good. I've had a terrible relationship with my body most of my life and so by working out to feel good i have different goals and schedules i followed than when I was trying to lose weight, and it's helping like my body even if it's not changing how it looks. I try to exercise at least 3 days a week, but if I don't feel good enough to i don't force myself (the walks outside are exercise too, so thats also helping me feel good even if I eat a snowcone immediately afterwards ^^)
- positive affirmations. I really struggle with this one, but I have a widget on my phone that rotates through different ones and im liking the ones that are good and at the end of the week in my journal I wrote them all out.
- look for long lasting happiness over short term happiness. this one is a lot harder i just wanted to add it on the end because sometimes I put off doing something I know will make me happy in the end because of short term gratification. I normally feal with this by letting them merge if I can (so like everything shower tiktoks while I get ready for my shower)
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animeshotsh · 4 months
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The day i got a new uncle!! | Vox x Kid!Reader
Vox claiming that yes, kid!reader its totally his.
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Warnings: HH violence-cursing- Kid!Reader bites Valentino - Everybody freaks out - Lucifer snaps - Charlie snaps - Alastor its all for the drama - Vox has a crush on Alastor - Protective!Alastor - Protective!Angel Dust - grammar mistakes
Note: its edited, now Kid!reader does bite Valentino
The hotel was for once quiet. Like, extremely quiet. Too quiet.
"as much as i hate seeing your face, is (Y/N) with you? They have their piano lesson today" Lucifer said towards Alastor who in return smiled to hide is now nervous self.
"I tought they were with you?" The demon said turning his head to the side then sending all his shadows to look for you.
Lucifer gave him his own nervous look and went to ask the others, his wings carring him in the halls.
"Charlie? CHARLIE? PLEASE TELL ME (Y/N) ITS THERE WITH YOU" Lucifer called from outside her daugther's room only for it to open with a very nervous Charlie.
"Dad, what do you mean? (Y/N) was supposed to be out with Angel Dust for today"
"And they havent returned...?" The king asked in a worried tone.
Before Charlie could respond Alastor appear in his hand was a beaten up lamb from Lucifer.
"My shadows found your spider friend on the side of the street, and they took this back with them" Alastor trow the lamb to Lucifer who looked at it asking where you were.
"They took them, the sinner tried to fight them off but could not..."
"its Angel hurt? And (Y/N)?" Charlie asked now getting desesperated.
"I knew he was weak" Alastor said in a low voice getting a pissed look from Charlie.
"Alastor, does your shadows know where the sinner is?" Alastor nodded in return "and you, can you tell me what they looked like?"
"A big insect and a tv" the lamb said. In reaponse Alastor voice turned into static taking the lamb by its collar.
"And you did something to prevent this?" Radio deals now in his eyes "you are a creation from the king of hell but left them take (Y/N)?"
"Alastor stop!" Charlie pleaded getting the lamb back.
"They did this to get back to me" Alastor said turning to leave "i must put them in their place"
"Wait a dam minute, it may be your fault"
"Dad..."
"But im (Y/N) father and i should have prevented this. So im going to settle these sinner down myself"
"Not if i get to them first" Alastor responded baci giving out a siniter smile.
"Im coming too, we need to check on Angel"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
A few hours earlier
Angel, the lamb and you were outside doing some quick errands. You rarely got to go outside so this was an experience. Being with Angel (who you loved like a big brother) was a plus, specially when he could toss you up and get you with his four arms.
"Are you having fun?" Angel asked after stopping to get some ice cream
"Yes!! This is amazing, you are amazing, sugar its amazing" Angel could only laught at you, he was sure you were going to be running up and down the hotel later.
"Well, what do we have here? I thought you would be hiding with that princess now"
Angel froze slowly turning around, his face getting hit with red smoke, besides him a tv radio demon kept looking past him towards you.
"My, thats must be Alastor's kid"
(In some part of hell, Lucifer felt a change in the force).
"And just happened to fall right into our arms, be a good employee and give them to us Angel"
"Over my dead body"
"If thats what you want"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
The others found Angel all bloody but not dead with a note besides him. He was tied up and had cuts all over him.
"Im sorry, i tried to stop them. (Y/N) tried to help me but got elecoshocked" Angel lamented his hands covering his eyes.
"Angel its not your fault, im sure you did the best you could to protect (Y/N)".
Angel smiled at Charlie's words, images of you biting his Boss arms and legs going to his mind. "(Y/N) has fire on them, they were biting Valentino's so much to even draw blood" Angel comments with a fond smile getting a creepy smile from Alastor who is just proud of you.
"If you want your kid back Alastor, meet me in the V's tower" Alastor read out loud getting everybodys attention.
"Thats a trap and wait a fucking minute" Lucifer took the note, he conjured some reading glasses (that he does not need) to read the bullshit he just hear.
"IM GOING TO KILL THESE SINNERS" A very demonic Lucifer said, flamed came from his mouth at the same time Charlie tried to calm him down.
"Dont worry dad, im sure (Y/N) and manage, we need to go to the V's first"
"WHY CAN NO ONE UNDERSTAND (Y/N) ITS MY KID!!"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
Turns out you did manage.
At first you opened your eyes seeing lots of lights from tvs, different sinners where showing on them. A small claw came out from your hand cutting your robes. As you were going to go outside a door opened and a demon with a ....tv as a head? Enter the room.
"Well, arent you sneaky" the tv said getting you up and inspecting you. The missmatched eye trying to get you under his influence but you just gave him a confused look.
"Did a tv fall over you to end like this?" You asked getting back an angry scowl from the demon.
"Oh im sure your father taught you that one, im right?" Vox asked moving himself to his chair getting acomodate with you on him.
"My dad does not like tvs, says its makes our brain go off"
"Yeah that sounds like him" Vox said thinking about Alastor, getting the most dreamy look on his face.
"You....you like my father?" You asked imagining Lucifer seeing this demon. If it was a demon that resembled a duck then it may have a chance but not this one.
"W-what?" Vox asked his face giving out an error signal "of coruse not, i dispise him, why do you think i kindapped you?
"....to have a chance to see him? But i believe this approach its a bit agressive"
"....kid, you have no sense of self preservation"
"...well you have no idea how love works!!"
"IM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOUR DAD!!"
"YOU KEEP SHOWING ERROR WHEN MENTIONING HIM"
Silence fell over both of you. Vox really needed to re think his life choices. You kept staring at him and it made him uncomfortable.
"But I support you, my Sis says love its love no matter your gender or lack of it"
"....thanks?" Does Alastor have another kid? Vox wondered then saw as you turned to face his monitors "are you stalking the streets?"
"What? No. Im just...collecting information" Vox simple said ignoring the sudden feeling of guilt.
"You have lots of monitos, and no one has a kid's show" you noted.
"There are not kid's show in hell"
"Of course, thats why this is hell. I got so angry when Barney was not here. It was said it was from the devil but Barney its not here"
Vox looked a bit confused at you then went to look for old record till he found a show, he sent the record to one monitor.
"BARNEY!!, thank you demon tv"
"Its Vox..."
"Thank you Vox!! Im sure my dad will love this, do you have ice cream?"
"...what flavor" Vox asked giving out to your big eyes.
~☆~☆~☆~☆
Turns out Vox and You bonded well over ice cream and Barney. You kept giving him hints on how to get with your dad and Vox took notes on his screen.
He later almost breaks when you started to run avoiding objects and staff that went in and out.
"You cant help if you are dead!!" Vox screamed getting a laught from you.
"VOX WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?"
Veelvet appeared in front of both of you, like a mother stopping the fun two siblings where having.
"Mmm, i dont follow?" Vox said taking you back to his arms.
"WHY ITS LUCIFER OUTSIDE OUR DOOR DEMANDING WE GIVE BACK HIS KID!!"
"Wait...this is not Lucifer's kid this is Alastor's...."
But he could not end talking when the doors busted open, a very pissed Lucifer, a demonic Alastor, an equal demonic Charlie and Angel with guns ready enter the room.
"YOU BETTER GIVE ME BACK MY KID YOU LOWLIFE SINNER" the disoriented voice from Lucifer caused Vox to tremble in fear.
"Wait!! This must be a missunderstanding, this is Alastor's kid"
Lucifer sent Vox flying to one of his monitors.
"(Y/N) ITS MY KID YOU STUPID TV FREAK"
For once Alastor liked what the king said, however he was quicker to catch up on what must likely happened.
"And i tought you watched every move i made old pald" Alastor said returning to his usual form to take you towards Charlie who hugged you and kissed your head.
"I- i have other things to do than look at-for- THAN YOU" Vox said error flashing.
"DAD HE LIKES YOU!!"
"What?"
"What?"
"Oh hell no"
"(Y/N) are you hurt anywhere? Did this sinner do something to you?" Lucifer asked with worry.
"No! We saw Barney together and ate ice cream, we were playing tag before you all crushed the door"
All of them turned to Vox who gave a small grind "Hey, im not that low to hurt a kid"
"I dont believe you sinner, you were given free will and ended here" Lucifer responded making Vox shiver.
"Dad!! Wait, he has Barney and can show ducks on his monitor"
"...ok and?"
"And you like ducks right?" You said louder looking at Vox to see if he got the hint, however Vox just blushed now realising that all this time you were talking about Lucifer and not Alastor.
Fuck my life.
"Alright, since you did not hurt (Y/N)...besides that shock you gave them earlier" Lucifer snapped his fingers getting the Power of the V's off. "I believe two weeks without your program, social media out of service and you wont be able to record....adult things its enough for a greedy soul as you and the other two"
"But Sir-"
"AND IF YOU EVER TRY TO DO THIS AGAIN IM TAKING YOU DOWN TO DO HORRIBLE THINGS TO YOU THAT I CANT SAY NOW BECAUSE MY KID IS HERE"
Vox nodded, getting a nod back from Lucifer who left with you on his arms.
"BYE NEW UNCLE!! TRY DUCKS"
Uncle? Nono, Alastor was your only uncle. He turned to Vox and broke off all his monitors.
"Dont even think on getting used to be called that, only I get called uncle from them"
After all of them left Vox fell down onto the floor.
Why does the king of hell look lowkey hot and why does a real treat from Alastor get him all funny inside?
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miniwheat77 · 11 months
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Nasty. (Mean!König x Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, König being a big meanie, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight dub con, poorly translated German, this is short forgive me, (sorry if I missed any.)
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Your nerves are completely shot as you stand in a line. You don’t know why, but he’s so so mean. So mean. He hates you for some reason. Absolutely hates you.
You’re lined up with other Sergeants, waiting nervously as Colonel König passes each of you. “Y/L/N, 50 push ups. im Augenblick.”
You know better than to argue, so you drop to the floor, beginning to do your push ups. Trying not to cry. You wish you could just know why he’s so mean to you. You just didn’t understand, you’d never done anything. You were always kind to him. Always obeyed him. When you finish your push ups, he’s excused everyone else and he’s watching you intently. “Colonel.” You ask, out of breath. He looks at you. “Can I ask why you gave me 50 push ups?” He stands there, eyes dark as he stares upon you.
“50 more.” He breathes. “Now.” A sigh leaves your lips and you obey him, dropping down to your knees again and propping yourself up. “When you’re finished you can go to bed.” He breathes. You choose to ignore him, tired of the way he’s treating you. He walks away down the hallway, but watches to make sure you actually finish your push ups. You do. He smirks to himself. You stand up when you finish and walk down the hallway to your room. You don’t understand.
A couple days later, you wait patiently for an order. You’ve been burned out completely, he’s making you run laps around the base and your eyes are burning from the sweat dripping down your face. The sun is beating down on you and he won’t let you stop for anything. He disappeared a while ago and you haven’t seen him. Your vision starts to blur, and you look confused. Legs slowing to a stop against your will. You start to see other colors, brighter colors filling your vision. That’s all you remember.
König forgot. He went inside for a second and he was going to head back out to relieve you but he got distracted. He’s sitting in his office when he hears yelling, and stands up to peek outside. Curious what the commotion is. He sees another Sergeant bursting through the door carrying you, and his stomach falls. “I need a medic!” He calls. Others flood the hallway and a medic appears. They’re rushing you back to the infirmary. “What’s going on?” She asks. “I don’t know, I found her outside passed out.”
She sighs. “She’s having a heat stroke, we need to cool her temperature down.” König walks away from the infirmary. He knows he’s a little extreme sometimes.
“My office, now.” His stern voice sends chills up your spine. You follow after him.
He closes the door behind you and walks around you, staring you down. “I said 50 push ups.” He crosses his arms. “I will do them, but I want to know why first.” You breath. He mumbles something under his breath in German, you don’t hear him. “Now.” He breathes. “No.” You breathe. “I deserve to know why.” He let’s out a deep chuckle and you know you’re digging yourself a hole, but you’re tired of this. “You listen to me, girl.” He growls. “I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t have to tell you why. I say jump, you fucking jump.” He growls. “dummes Mädchen.” He growls. You know what he’s just said. “Fuck you.” You growl. His eyes snap to you, wide. He’s pissed. In one second, he’s got you slammed up against a wall. Hand around your throat. He’s watching you turn a shade of red. “Fine. You want to fucking disobey me?” He breathes. You can feel his spit particles landing on your face. He’s seething. “Ich zeige dir, was ich mit bösen Mädchen mache.” He growls, he lets go of your throat and spins you around. Forcing you down onto his desk.
Your eyes widen as he tears your cargo pants down your legs, forcing them down. What is this? Why is he reacting like this? You feel the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance and in one hard thrust, he forces his cock into you and a gasp gets stuck in your throat as he starts to thrust himself into you. He’s stretching you and it hurts. Tears prick your eyes at the intrusion, a cry leaving your lips.
Luckily your body gets used to him. Your hands clutch his desk and he groans out. Hands holding your hips in a death grip, sure to leave bruises in their wake. His belt rattles violently with each of his brutal thrusts, the massive man makes you look small. Watching the way your pussy stretches around his massive cock has his eyes rolling back. You’re quiet for a while, but his thrusts halt immediately when a moan leaves your lips. He spins you around, pupils blown out. He can’t believe his ears. “Do you like this?” He asks. You’re leaning up against his desk, body exposed to his judgmental eyes. You stay quiet which earns a sharp slap to your cheek. You nod your head shyly. He grasps your thighs, forcing you back onto his desk again, returning his cock to your weepy hole. He thrusts in again and you cry out. “Ah! König please- slower please-“ you whimper. “You can take it, we both know you can.” He growls. He squeezes your breasts too hard and you whimper out, he’s so mean. “You like when I’m mean to you, dumme Hure” he growls. “You like when I bully your slutty pussy. I know how wet you get for me when I’m mean to you. You like it. So take it. Nimm mich, du verdammte Schlampe”
A cry leaves your lips as he bullies your cunt. Thrusting into you hard, not giving you anytime to adjust to him or his massive size. His desk is sliding across the floor with a violent screech, it doesn’t phase him. Not even a little bit. His groans that he’s letting out, they’re something different. You’ve never heard him being pleasured before, only angry at you. Maybe this is how you could make him happier. Maybe this is how you fix him being mean to you. You’ve got a death grip on his desk, his cock is pushing into your cervix and it’s too much. Bordering uncomfortable but you don’t dare tell him that. You keep your legs open for him, letting him use you. His moans are getting a little more desperate. Whimpers almost. “Oh fuck, so tight.” He gasps. He pushes one of your legs up a little higher, cock sliding even further into you. How on earth you were handling him was beyond you. You can’t help as your eyes start to water, tears beginning to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his massive cock. He’s overwhelming you. You can’t help it. “König?” You ask. “What?” He growls, “can I cum?” You whimper. You can see the way the small wrinkles around his eyes form, he’s smiling. “Now that’s a good girl, asking for permission.” He breathes. “Just a little longer.” He breathes.
You’re right on the edge. He’s pushing you over it quickly and you don’t know if you can hold on. “Ich sagte, warte”
You nod your head eagerly and he’s smiling down at you again. His cock twitches slightly and he’s about to cum. “Cum now, Liebling” he mumbles. You fall apart completely beneath him. Thighs shaking, body shivering. Chills arising on your skin. Your eyes roll back and you’re sucked into another dimension for a minute. The sound of him panting is bringing you back down to earth. He slides out of you and you let out a gasp. Realizing what’s just happened, he’s cum in you. Your eyes widen slightly. Worry filling you up.
“Get dressed and go clean up.” He orders. You nod your head, obeying him immediately.
The feeling that settles into your chest, sadness. Because no matter how much you offered your body up for him. Your holes, he was always just going to be mean.
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homestylehughes · 5 days
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i love you.
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pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in where yn finally tells jack and she loves him.
warning(s): completely fluff! a little suggestive towards the end!
wc: 1.4k
an: hiiii loves!!! writing for jack again, i missed writing for him sooo much. so enjoy this is little cute fluffy piece I wrote, i have nooo idea where this came from, like most of my ideas i pull them out of my ass LOLL. working on other works later today, more will be coming this weekend, to make up for my lack of posting. i honestly missed writing soooo much. okay i'm done, for now lol. hopefully you enjoy, like and reblog if you do. much love as always<3
happy reading <3
Tonight was the night, tonight I am going to tell Jack I love him. Jack and I have been dating for 8 months today, and neither of us have said those 3 special words to each other. I've loved jack for about 5 months now, i mean i how could i not? Jacks been the best boyfriend I can ask for, caring and sweet, loving, all of the above. So why was I so scared to say I love you? 
Saying i love you for the first time in a relationship is a big thing, deep down i know jack loves me, well i hope he does. The fear of him not feeling the same why back scares me, but im not letting the fear of his response hold me back anymore. Tonight is the night.
It just so happens to be our 8 month anniversary, Jack insisting that we go out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. So here I am standing in front of my mirror smoothing and looking at every piece of myself. Making sure my hair falls in the right places, that my dress all fits in the right places. Over analyzing my makeup, constantly fixing the already perfect lipstick I applied 5 times again.
My phone dings, picking it up with shaking hands, seeing Jack texted me saying he’s down stairs waiting for me. Typing a quick response, I grab my bag from my room, and take a deep breath before I head out my door. The walk to the elevator and the ride down the elevator feels like a lifetime. I'm starting to think I just scrape this idea completely and just head right back up. 
The door opens in the lobby, walking out I send a quick smile and wave to the doormen in the lobby. Pushing open the door, I see Jack standing outside his car, his phone in his hands reading something. As soon as he hears my heels click against the sidewalk, his head pulls up imminently, his eyes wide as he flashes me a smile, shoving his phone in his pocket as he begins to walk towards me. 
“Holy shit” is the first thing Jack says as his hands reach my hips, his cool fingers running along the fabric of my dress. “You look beautiful” 
“Thank you, you look very handsome too.” I saw my eyes running over his body, taking in the dress pants and shirt he had on, even swapping his air forces for a dresser type of shoe. 
“Are you ready for dinner, pretty girl?” he asks, making his way to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for me. 
“Yes I am, lead the way” I say , saluting him once he gets into the car. a laugh rips through him as he starts the car, a smile playing on his face as he turns to me. 
“I can't get over how pretty you are” 
“Jack” 
“What i'm just stating the facts' ' he says with a chuckle, i can feel my face heat up with blush as he continues to look at me. 
“You’re so pretty when you blush” 
“Jackkkkk '' I whine playfully out,  turning my body away so he can't see the smile that breaks out across my face. 
“Do you plan on leaving anytime today?” i ask jokingly  my eyes locked on his
“After i do this” he says
I didn't even register what he had said to me before I felt his hand sliding around my jaw pulling my face towards his, capturing my lips into a sweet kiss. Our lips moving in sync my hands moving to cup his jaw pulling myself even closer to him. 
“I've wanted to do that since I saw you tonight,” Jack says as he pulls away from my lips, his hand still cupping my jaw. Our eyes remained locked for a few more moments, tension, and heat filling the car as we stared at each other. 
Jack clears his throat before pulling his hands from my face, my body already missing the contact. 
“I think we should do that again.” i say look at him
“Baby if we do that again we won't make it to dinner, my control is already being tested by how you look in that dress.” he says as he pulls out of the parking spot, his hands holding the wheel tightly as he begins to drive.
I turn to look out of the window as my face begins to heat up with a blush again, smiling as I look at the city lights as we ride past them. My mind slowly reminds me of what I planned on doing tonight, saying I love you to the man that I love. Might be the scariest thing I've ever done before. The devil on my shoulder starts to control my thoughts as I ask myself, why hasn't Jack said I love you first? What's stopping him, then again what's stopping me? 
“Are you okay?” Jack asks, his voice breaking through the silence of the car. “You've been very quiet” he follows 
“I'm okay, sorry” I replied, my hands twirling nervously in my hands.
“You're doing that thing with your hands, somethings up” jack says, i can feel his eyes on me, as he stops at a red light. 
“What's on your mind baby? You know you can talk to me right?” 
“I know i can, i just can't say this to you, i'm scared” i say softly 
“Did someone hurt you, did I do something wrong? Baby look at me” 
Tears threaten to fall from my eyes, as I turn my face towards him, feeling mad at myself for making him feel like he did something, just because I can't express how I feel for him, because I'm scared. 
I no longer want to be scared, I love him. I want him to know that I love him, no matter his response. 
I take a deep breath before saying “can I tell you something?” I ask as he pulls into the restaurant, turning off the car before turning to face me. 
“Yes of course, always” Jack says, giving me a small smile, waiting for my next move.
This is all getting to real, i can feel my hands start shaking, my heart beat increasing by each beat. 
“Okay, i don't really know how to say this, but i'll just say it i guess. I- i love you." I finally said. “And I've loved you for a while now, I never knew how to say it to you. I've been so scared of your response, and i didnt know if you felt the same way. Its okay if you don't feel the same-” 
My rambling is suddenly cut off by the feeling of Jack's lips on mine, his lips dancing with mine, I struggle to keep up with him as he tangles his hands in my hair pulling me harder against his lips. 
Jack pulls away first, our chests rising quickly, he stares back at me with wide eyes. 
“Say that again” he says 
“That I love you?” 
“Yes fuck” he says brining his hand to my cheek again holding it softly, looking at me with love and adoration. “I love you.” he finally says.
“I love you so much,” he says, kissing my lips after every word. 
“Im sorry, i know i should have said it a lot sooner” i say looking at him 
“No, I should have said it first,” Jack replies. “But i'm happy you said it, i truly mean it yn, i love you.” 
My heart melts at his words, Jack loves me, he loves me. I couldn't help but smile brightly at him, Jack returning the same smile to me. Suddenly I feel the car being turned on as Jack pulls out of the restaurant, heading the opposite direction.
“Jack, where are you going? I thought we were going to have dinner "I ask, looking at him as he continues to drive away from the restaurant. 
“We’re going home” he says 
“Why are we going home?” I am still very confused about the sudden change of plans.
“Because I want you in my bed, naked. I want to make love to the girl that I love. Is that okay?” he asks, turning his towards me for a brief moment. 
“more than okay with me” i say 
“I love you.”
149 notes · View notes
sohnric · 9 months
Text
millennium bug – e. sohn
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pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader
genre: 90s au, twenty-five twenty-one au, brother's best friend au, childhood friends au, fluff, slice of life, coming of age. older brother! sunwoo. essentially just eric being baek yijin. oct-nov scenes inspired by weak hero class 1. no plot just vibes im sorry
warnings: minimal swearing and thats all lol
word count: 19k
a/n: posting a fic for a new fandom is always so scary pls be nice to me deobiblr bc im literally abt to cry. also yes i am calling this a 2521 au bc the plot is so heavily inspired it might just be one. a special thank you goes out to @csenke for dragging me into stanning this group i am enjoying myself 🤞
there are some pros and cons to not having friends growing up. cons: you're always forced to tag along with your brother and his group wherever he goes. pros: his childhood best friend is kind of hot.
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JUNE OF 1999
Being Kim Sunwoo’s younger sister is no bed of roses sometimes.
Sure, you get the occasional excitement of having him bring you rollerskating with you down the hill or the ever so rare moments of him defending you in front of your mother when you two have done something wrong (while never saying he was in on the bad act as well, of course), but more than often, you are met with his disgusted looks and insults whenever the two years older boy passes by your room and casually bangs at the door just to spite you.
His snarky looks are especially ones to remember. Maybe it’s because he offers them to you often– much like in this very moment, completely unprovoked, and completely not by your fault.
“But mum–”
“I already told you, Sunwoo,” your mother looks at him with a stern look in her eye, the one that makes chills run down your spine, “you can go if you take Y/N with you.”
“But nobody’s bringing their sister! Mum, come on–”
“Take it or leave it, young man.”
And see, your brother may be 19 years old, but he’s still in need of getting permission to leave the house if it includes an overnight stay. It’s an unspoken rule he always follows, since he’s usually granted the right to leave, but the result of his conversation was different than what he expected this time. And see, you may be just two years younger than him (one year left until you are an adult), but even though your mother is too busy to take care of you and entertain your slowly adultling self on most days because of her highly demanding job, she always makes sure that you don’t stay alone for long, and that’s exactly why (you realize, contrary to your brother) she insists on making you tag along on Sunwoo’s trip to the beach house with his friends.
The male grunts and turns on his heel, not giving your mother another response– and with this, you know she won. And that means you’ll have to pack your bag soon, because you know that there’s no way Sunwoo would miss going to the beach house with his friends– even if it meant making his little sister tag along.
And sure enough, Lee Juyeon’s minivan pulls up into your driveway only a few hours later, and the sound of the honking outside is enough for your older brother to aggressively drag you outside of the house, shutting the door behind you and hollering an angry “Bye mum!” to your mother. Your figure is handled with the least amount of care possible as you’re thrown towards the white van, the door opened and 5 heads already peeking out with expecting eyes, waiting for your brother’s arrival.
“My mum made my stupid sister go with me, so I hope we have space for one more,” Sunwoo huffs as he throws his bag into the trunk, slamming it with more force than was necessary (boy does he know how to throw a scene), an encouraging voice of none other than Juyeon– the driver himself– landing in your ear. 
“Sure, just hop in!”
With that, your feet finally unglue themselves off the ground and bring you into the vehicle. You’re familiar with his friends– since a scenario like this hasn’t happened for the first time and you had to spend your fair time with Sunwoo’s circle growing up, mainly because you never really had many friends yourself. You’re not close with any of them, though, and you’re sure you haven’t seen half of them for ages. 
Lee Juyeon is the responsible one of the group. You’re comfortable with the fact that he’s the driver, since you’re not entirely sure if you’d trust any of the other men in this space behind the wheel (you fear the day your brother gets a driver’s license. You'd bet a million dollars that he’ll die while driving recklessly one day). Next to him on the passenger’s seat is Choi Chanhee, his best friend, carrying a map in his hands and twirling it in all possible directions to get his friend on the right track. In the three-seat behind those two is Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin and your brother himself, and in the very back of the whole van, almost in the trunk, you’re sat next to Eric Sohn– your brother’s childhood best friend.
“Hi guys,” you offer a greeting to all of them, settling into the uncomfortable leather seat (that’s peeling off, just by the way), watching as the rest of the men pay you no mind and ignore your voice, falling into a comfortable conversation with each other.
Sighing, because this always happens– your brother gets too annoyed because he has to bring you with him all the time, and you imagine his friends aren’t fond of the fact either– you settle deeper into the seat and cross your hands on your chest, looking outside of the window. You can’t imagine enjoying your trip now, since you feel like you’re a nuisance, a child they have to take care of (yes, it embarrasses you just the tiniest bit, you have to admit. Although, you do enjoy getting out of the house from time to time), and the fact that your feelings were probably more than justified and also true has you pouting, an unsatisfied feeling weighing at your lungs.
“Hi,” a voice resonates from your side, the sight of a smiling Eric peering at you taking you off guard. You didn’t expect anyone to react to your greeting– not so delayed anyway– and the sight of your brother’s best friend carrying on in the conversation with you has you shocked beyond belief. “Excited?”
Finding yourself hum in agreement– how much you are still excited for the pool and for the sun, you’re not really sure– and although you are upset, something about his open and nice demeanor has you visibly relaxing, the sparkles inviting themselves back into your eyes. “I’ve never been to the beach,” you admit, seeing Eric gasp at you in surprise.
“Really?” he asks. “I go every year with my parents.”
“Well,” you hum, “you know how my mother is…” you sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s easier to joke about it than to actually let the fact get to you– with your mother being the main news anchor, she is too busy to actually go on trips and form bonds with her own children sometimes. That’s why you spent most of your childhood at Eric’s family’s house in the first place– this is what made you the closest with Sunwoo’s same aged friend. His parents were nice enough to let you stay over and have sleepovers whenever your mum had to leave suddenly and take week-long trips abroad, or have emergency shifts during late evenings. 
Eric hums, sympathizing with you. “Well, at least you get to experience it now!”
“Yeah,” you awkwardly nod, playing with the hem of your jean shorts. It’s the shorts you made yourself by cutting the legs off your favorite pants after you grew out of them and they got too short, and they’re starting to look a little worn-out now. Maybe you should beg your mum to get you some new clothing.
The conversation between the boys grows in volume, doing nothing to help you to relax in the crowded vehicle. You can’t really find a place to fit yourself in and talk, the topics too unfamiliar for you and the feeling of not even being welcome in the discussion sitting heavy on your chest, when a finger bears itself to the flesh of your thigh, making you snap your head around to gape at the source of the contact. Eric looks at you with a boyish grin, sparkles evident in his eyes.
“Wanna see something?” he asks.
“Sure.”
The male digs around his backpack, hands searching through the contents of his bag for only a couple of seconds– since he’s the neat one, contrary to your messy brother– before he takes out a small gadget: a square with a little screen on top, a silver, circular button space sitting big in the very middle of the device. Eric throws the thing into your lap, smiling when you take it into your hands and examine it with curious eyes.
“Have you seen one before? My dad got it for me last week,” he boosts, satisfied with your reaction to it. 
Your mother’s job pays quite well– meaning that you usually have the latest gadgets, the latest trends– but if you’re being honest, you haven’t seen one of these in real life before. Yes, you caught a glimpse of an ad for it in the town center, on one of the big billboards while passing by to get to school in the morning, so you know that it’s an MP3 player, but still; this was your first time touching one and examining it in real life. 
“How does it work?” you ask, watching as the boy scoots from his seat to the middle one, so he is now sitting directly next to you, before he takes out wired headphones from the first department of his backpack and turns the little square over in his hands, finding where the jack goes.
“You put those in,” he says, plugging in the headphones, “and then you press this…” he explains, taking the device out of your hand and pushing on the power button for a few seconds, “and then it should play.”
Watching him with expecting eyes, the boy finally puts the MP3 player back into your hold. Then, his fingers swiftly put the respective earphones into your ears– like you’d do to a little kid that has no idea how they work, making you a little flushed at the action– and after that, you’re left with the sound of an unfamiliar song playing in your ears, making the sound of the chatter in the van completely tune out. Eric keeps on watching you, a sense of pride in his eyes as you nod at him, all excited with the new explory, before he takes one of the earphones out of your ear, grinning.
“Cool, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “The song is good,” you dumbly say, watching as the boy next to you pridefully nods at the compliment, resting his back against the car seat. 
“It’s the H.O.T album. My dad says they’re good,” he mumbles, moving the headphone he took from you and placing it into his ear, making you nod at him in acknowledgement. The action has your insides bubble with disappointment, thinking that the fun is over as you reach for the other earphone as well, offering it to the male.
Eric looks at you with a shocked pout, shaking his head. “No, we can share!” he says, pointing towards your ear. “If you want, of course.”
The action has you smiling, a shy nod escaping out of you as you reach and put the earphone back into your ear, letting yourself fall deeper into the car seat, listening to the song from Eric’s MP3 player. You’re grateful for his presence– he didn’t have to keep up a conversation with you. He could ignore you, just like the rest of his friend group always has. Maybe it was something about the two of you growing up together that always made the boy at least a bit more affectionate towards you than the rest.
You spend the car ride to the beach house with Eric leaning on your side, listening to music and his occasional blabbering about how his previous days went. 
Somehow, you're glad the seat beside him was the only vacant one when you arrived to the vehicle.
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YOUR SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, 1989
You don't quite remember when you met Eric for the first time, if you’re being completely honest. The first memory you have of him is of your seventh birthday party, although you’re almost certain the boy’s been present at some point of your life before– at one point, you think you saw a picture of him and Sunwoo, two chubby toddlers, watching you as you laid on a blanket on the ground somewhere in your photo album. As far as you’re concerned, he may as well have been there when your mother brought you back from the hospital– although you think he must have been too young for that back then.
The first memory you have of Eric Sohn is the day you turned seven– a gloomy, sad day that in the moment, you prayed you wouldn’t have to remember in the first place.
It was already established that while your brother is the social butterfly, you don’t have a big friend group. Actually, you could count the number of your friends on one hand, and since the amount wasn’t as big, your mother allowed you to invite them all over to your house to celebrate your birthday with you. 
She baked a cake, she decorated the living room, hell, she even took a day off from work– something you deemed special, for it doesn’t happen often– and as you sat on the floor of your living room, the cake standing proud on the small coffee table, waiting for your friends to arrive, you hummed a song under your breath, the clock slowly passing the time you agreed for them to come over and celebrate.
At first, you didn’t mind it– everybody gets late sometimes, it’s okay. It was just a birthday party, and you had a lot of time. Not everything had to be set on schedule.
But the closer the clock moved to being one hour, than two after the time your friends were supposed to come, you grew worried. Your mother’s nervous pacing around the living room and her heavy sighs as she sat next to you on the floor, smiling at you in what you can only explain as sad way made you more and more anxious about the fact that you only had three friends, but all three of them seemed to not care enough to come celebrate your birthday with you. And as your mother finally took the final bow in the form of a soft hand on your inner thigh, her tone gentle as she called your name– “Y/N, I think we should light the candles,” you began to tear up.
You were supposed to eat the cake with your friends. You were supposed to hear them sing the birthday song to you. You were supposed to turn on the radio and dance around with your classmates, eat the sweets and unwrap the cheap, but heartfelt gifts they brought along with them to celebrate your birthday. 
But none of these scenarios were happening, and you felt incredibly, incredibly lonely and sad. Forgotten, if you will. Not cared for, definitely.
Hiding your face into your hands, you started to cry. This disappointment was too big for your small heart to take, and you no longer cared about the cake, the candles, the seaweed soup your mother cooked for you to celebrate, the gifts, or the party. All you wanted to do was hide in your room and never come out– something about the whole situation felt deeply embarrassing, and to this day, the moment before the whole day turned around still makes you feel a bit ashamed of yourself. 
Too busy crying, you didn’t notice your older brother watching you with big bambi eyes, a worried glance sent your way each time your sobs grew louder and louder. And maybe the boy only wanted to taste the cake (he’s been bugging your mum about it since the very morning, but he was always sent off with a scolding look telling him that he’ll get a slice when everyone arrives), but no matter what his true intentions were, his actions still managed to pull your seventh birthday party together in a way you never imagined.
The sound of the front door faintly resonated in your brain somewhere in the middle of your aimless sobbing, but you paid it no mind, thinking it was just Sunwoo going out to the yard to kick the ball. See, your older brother had never really known what to do when you cried growing up– it didn’t matter if he was the reason for your tears or if anyone else was. If he was the reason for your emotional outbursts, he tried to shut you up with his palm and get you to stop crying before his mother found out and gave him a scolding, but if someone else was, the small boy sometimes turned angry at the source. Kicking his classmate that once made a snarky comment about you and made you tear up or punching his friend when he was too harsh with you was all he knew to do in these situations, so he wasn’t the one to comfort you with words or hugs. It was only natural for him to escape in this situation.
You were brought to a state of shock and surprise when a hand landed on your shoulder, a familiar voice breaking you from your emotional turmoil.
“Why are you crying? We have to eat the cake!” you heard, your big, sad eyes meeting the small figure of the boy living next door, your brother nervously stepping from one side to the other right behind his best friend. “Can you light the candles, Mrs?” Eric politely asked your mum, pointing towards the cake waiting sadly at the coffee table, the figure of your mother leaving your side only shortly to get the matches from the kitchen and illuminate your face with the small flames.
Confusion mirrored your features as you watched your brother and his best friend sing the birthday song to you while your mum lit your candles, both boys clapping and dancing around, acting silly just to get a laugh from you. You didn't know how Eric got there, but you guessed there are some good sides to having him as your neighbor. The energetic boy did his best to brighten up your mood a bit, and when you blew out the candle, making a wish, Sunwoo even went as far as smashing your face into the cake to bring in the full birthday authenticity.
That got him a slap to the back of his head from your mother, as well as made you stand up from your position– no longer making you look like a disappointed bulk of pity– and chase him around the room, icing falling off your nose to the laminated floor. You got your revenge and smeared the chocolate all over his forehead (he let you chase him down only because it was your birthday and he really, really hated to see his sister cry, but he won’t ever tell you that) and as the three of you sat back down to the floor, watching your mother slice the cake and offer it to you on small white plates, you realized you suddenly weren't as sad anymore.
“What did you wish for?” Eric asked you, mouth full of cake and face messy with chocolate.
“I can’t tell you,” you hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Then it won’t come true.”
“You probably wished for that doll you saw in the store the other day,” Sunwoo snickered as he swallowed, having you glare at him and send a sharp kick to his shin, unwatched by your mother (thankfully), as the boy fought you back, having no mercy.
Music suddenly filled the room as Eric stood up and put the radio on, his 9 year old brain smart enough to know how the device worked, his small figure dancing away to the songs playing on the single radio station you could play without carefully sorting out the antenna so it faced the north, and truly, you didn’t know how it happened, but it had you standing up and dancing around, exactly how you'd imagined doing with your friends from school.
The day wasn’t ruined– quite the opposite, really. It was one of your favorite birthday parties, and ever since then, Eric was invited to every single one you had after. And while Sunwoo may act like he doesn’t hate anything more in this world than having a younger sister, every time you feel like a burden to him, you remember this very afternoon.
You will never tell anyone what you wished for that day– but just to let everyone in on the secret, 
it was to somehow, just like Sunwoo, find someone like Eric for yourself as well. 
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JUNE OF 1999
Standing at the side of the pool, eyes squinting from the inevitable force of the sun, you’re starting to regret your decision of coming along just a little. See, you usually don’t protest whenever Sunwoo aggressively drags you around and brings you everywhere he’s supposed to, because even though you love to see your brother angry (especially when you’re the reason behind the emotion), you’d also hate to see him miss out, but now, as the scorching hot sun is having no mercy on every exposed inch of skin– and believe me, there’s a lot of it, since you’re wearing your swimming trunks– and the sweat on your forehead is no longer culminating in beads, but rolling painfully slowly down your forehead, you do admit you’d be a little bit happier in the shade of your little room than here, watching the guys play volleyball in the comfort of the freezing cold pool.
And as the only female around the house, you settle with the patriarchy and bring out a small folding chair and a camping table alongside with a big, sharp knife, struggling to hoist up the giant watermelon you got in a grocery store on your way to the beach house, with the intention of cutting it and serving it to the guys later. Who knows, maybe they’ll like you a little more after that. 
The knife sinks into the thick green skin of the watermelon easily, and so as you accompany yourself with the excited (and not so excited screams coming from the losing side of the game– mainly your brother himself), you cut up the fruit into halves, then quarters, and as you stare at the moon crescents settled on the camping table, you decide to play nice and cut up the fruit into smaller triangles as well, to really get on everyone’s good side.
The yearning for male validation awakes in a woman pretty early on in life. It’s an inevitable misfortune.
“Told you Sunwoo’s all talk but no game!” you hear Haknyeon yell out as the game seemingly ends, the younger boy lunging at him in the pool, fighting him for the truthful words. Glancing at the commotion, you notice the guys slowly getting out of the pool, making you heave out in victory– you’re finally gonna have your turn in the pool. Well, if they don’t decide to occupy it again before you even get a chance to get in.
“Y/N! You cut up the watermelon?” Eric asks a very obvious question, walking up to you with beads of water all over his half-naked body. His dark hair is damply sitting against his forehead, making him look like a wet puppy, but as the male gets closer to you, he drags his palm through the locks and pushes them back, revealing his forehead– a sight sweet to your eyes, but you refuse to pay it much attention in the heat of the moment. It’s just the sun making you delirious as the idea of finding him attractive flashes through your brain, that’s all. 
“I did! Take one,” you smile, watching as the rest of the guys walk over to your little stand– while also obnoxiously swatting out water out of their hair like dogs, refusing to use towels like normal people– and finally, there it comes: appreciative smiles appear on their faces as they each take a piece, biting down on the fruit with delighted sighs.
Sunwoo walks up to you with a surprised look on his face, sighing as he messes with your hair. “If I knew you’d be our servant, I wouldn’t have even minded you going in the first place.”
“You do something nice for people and they jump on the chance to exploit you,” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s just like you, Kim Sunwoo.”
“No, that’s just me having older brother privileges.”
“I hope you choke on that, you know,” you bite at him, pointing towards the piece of sweet watermelon in his hands, the smile on his face turning bitter. There’s a satisfied look on your face when your brother does, indeed, choke on a watermelon seed a few seconds later– and they say dreams don’t come true.
“You didn’t have to,” you hear Eric speak up from the other side, your head turning to face the male, his features appreciative and warm. “Thank you,” he beams. There’s redness on the tip of his nose and his forehead, signaling his quickly approaching sunburn, and you can’t help but laugh out at his clueless, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer self. 
“What’s so funny?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you in question.
“Nothing,” you peep, “you just look like you forgot to use sunscreen,” you mumble, watching as the male gasps and touches his face, a horrified expression overtaking him when the skin under his fingertips burns to the touch. 
“I didn’t forget! It must have rubbed off in the pool,” he mourns, “I must look stupid!” 
“Only a little,” you tease, a grin overtaking your features. See, there’s something about the fact that you’ve known Eric for the entirety of your whole life that makes you more prone to teasing him– you’re familiar with your dynamics and just how far you can go, so his next actions startle you just the tiniest bit as the male looks sternly at you, throwing the half-eaten watermelon slice to the camping table. You thought you had the risks calculated– apparently, you didn't.
“What did you say?”
Examining his features, seeing no signs of anger– just the stoic, fakely-offended face of your brother’s childhood best friend– you shrug. “That you look a bit stupid with your face like that.”
“Oh, okay,” he nods, “you’re going down for that.”
“What do you mea–”
Your words are cut short when the male lunges at you, his arms enveloping your thighs and holding you up. The contact of his cold skin from the pool and your heated figure makes goosebumps appear all over your body, your hands instinctively reaching around him to support yourself as he walks closer to the pool– his intentions are suddenly painfully clear and you start to panic. 
“This will teach you to respect your elders,” Eric huffs, the turquoise surface of the water slowly coming into your point of view.
“Stop! Stop-stop-stop,” you squirm, kicking your feet and trying to take down the predator, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, alright?”
The male takes a halt for a split second– making you foolishly believe he’ll let you off– before he breaks out into a devilish grin and continues to walk to the edge of the pool. “Too late.”
“Eric!” you scream, the volume of your voice resonating through the whole beach, your heart thumping wild against your ribcage with the awaiting process. You’re not even sure what you’re scared of anymore– you can swim and you bet the water will feel nice against the scorching sun– but still, you’re absolutely terrified as the male has no mercy on you, carrying you steadily towards the water. “At least let me tie my hair first! You can dump me in after, I promise,” you mourn, trying to buy yourself more time.
“Alright,” he nods, waiting at the very edge of the pool, leaving you to take the purple scrunchie off your wrist and gather your hair together, preparing to tie it into a bun so it doesn’t get in your way when you’re in the pool. The hair tie is just at the tips of your fingertips, the first loop over the hair ready to be done, when a scream cuts out of your throat.
The feeling of falling suddenly overtakes your body, leaving you no time to prepare yourself for the impact of the cold water against your skin and all up in your nose, since you didn’t pluck it when you were dumped into the pool. The fall only lasts a split second until you’re below the water, the force of it resonating in your ears, and when you finally act on your instincts and stand up in the pool (it wasn’t even that deep in the first place, only reaching to your upper stomach), you cough out all the water and pray to gods you don’t throw up chlorine into the freshly cleaned pool. After you’re done catching your breath and getting oxygen into your lungs again, you do your best at getting all the hair out of your face. 
There is laughter landing into your ears as soon as you manage to get all the water out of them by leaning your head to the side and violently slapping each one, and when your eyes look up, you see an amused Eric Sohn bending over in his waist at your disheveled appearance. 
Grunting and pointing a finger to the criminal that almost made you drown, you huff out. “I’ll kill you! Just you watch.”
Your scrunchie nowhere to be found, forever lost somewhere outside of the beach house, you think, as it flew off your hand in the impact of the attack, shock makes your figure shake alongside of the coldness of the water, making you audibly sigh. 
Yes. You do regret coming along just a little.
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JULY OF 1999
Somewhere along the way, Eric Sohn starts acting as if he’s your second older brother. Sure, you’ve known the male your whole entire life and he’s seen you grow up, but it took him 17 years of your life to come to a point where he gives you equal amount of attention whenever he’s over at your house than he does to your brother, and even asks Sunwoo if you’re coming along with them whenever they leave to hang out somewhere else. It’s a change that comes naturally and slowly, and you welcome it unknowingly– the revelation shocks you on a hot summer day, though, when the idea finally comes to you in full force.
You would even argue and say Eric acts more like your brother than your actual sibling does– he asks if you’ve eaten and listens to you when you talk (which Sunwoo never does, well, except from when he’s arguing with you). Eric even compliments your outfits sometimes and lets you borrow his MP3 player from time to time– Sunwoo would never share his things with you, no matter how hard you pleaded and threatened to tell your mum. Yes, your brother's an adult and you’re one year away from becoming one– you still resolve your conflicts through your only parent, though. Some things, you never grow out of.
“I wanna try using the skateboard now, Sunwoo,” you order sternly when the boy finally reaches your destination. You’ve been sitting on the sidewalk for quite some time now, since your brother and his friend decided that they’re gonna try out their new skateboards on the hottest day of the year. Your town doesn’t have fancy skateparks and ramps like the ones you’ve seen in the music videos on TV, so you don’t really know what initially made the two buy those things, but you do admit that even driving up and down the road in front of your house does seem a little fun– so much you’d love to try it.
“What a shame we all wish for things we can’t have,” he shrugs ironically, shaking his head at you from his position above. The male reaches down for his bag, taking out a water bottle and putting it against his plush lips, all while you glare at him from below, still seated in your initial position. Eric comes up to you two, squishing at the soft plastic bottle in Sunwoo’s hold, making the water splash your older brother in the face, leaving a winning grin to be shared between you and the shorter boy, an expression that makes you all warm on the inside. See, at least Eric always has your back.
“You can try mine, if you want,” the latter shrugs, offering you a smile.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “why not?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just didn’t expect you to offer, since as you saw, my dear brother just refused when I asked…” you mumble, standing up from the sidewalk and taking the skateboard into your hand. Eric offers it to you with an outstretched arm and watches as you put the board on the floor, squinting at it with much examination.
“Do you know how to ride it?” he asks.
“No,” you shake your head, “but I mean, if Sunwoo can do it, how hard can it really be?” you joke, seeing as the said boy glares at you, finally finishing his water and dropping the bottle to the ground. 
“I’ll remind you of that statement when you eat shit on the pavement,” he shushes you, rolling his eyes. 
Not paying more attention to the grumpy being that is your own brother, you relocate your attention back to the skateboard on the heated road. You’re lucky you live on a street where cars don’t often drive by, since your neighborhood is on the very edge of the town, so you don’t really fear being run over by a pickup truck. What you do worry about, though, is your lacking sense of balance, which you discovered when you learned how to ride the bike for the first time. While your brother was a professional in no time, it took you weeks to get it right, and so with the idea of riding a board that provides you zero sense of security, you get a bit worried for your own life.
Dragging your hair out of your face and aimlessly trying to tuck it behind your ears– there’s no use in trying though, as the strands slip out just as fast as they found their place– you keep staring at the board only a few centimeters away from your feet, mentally calculating your next move. There’s a noise of a backpack being opened and rustling around in the background of your miserable thoughts, and when you look up to see what’s going on, you notice Eric offering you a small, purple bundle of fabric. 
“What’s that?” you ask, even though the answer is clear as the day– you recognise your own scrunchie with no problem. You’re just surprised to see it in his hold. You thought it was forever buried somewhere in the beach house, since you weren’t able to find it after you got out of the pool, no matter how hard you tried.
“Oh,” he shrugs, amidst a little too nonchalantly, “I found it and figured it was yours, but I forgot to give it back to you then… it seems like you need it now, though,” he offers you an explanation, lips pressed into a thin line that slightly signifies a smile.
“Ah,” you gasp, nodding as you take the hair tie out of his outstretched palm, gathering your hair into a bun and tying it up on the crown of your head– the staring contest you’ve been having with the board is much clearer now, when you don’t have your messy strands in the way. The idea of Eric keeping your scrunchie after finding it at the beach house makes your stomach do a weird kind of turn– you guess it made you a bit weirded out, if you’re being honest.
“Want some help with that?” he asks, pointing towards his skateboard.
Nervous, cracking your knuckles as you meet his eyes– he looks a bit amused, but still genuine– you nod, admitting defeat. There’s no way you’re getting on top of that board without help and not falling down. It’s always better to be safe than to be sorry, and so when Eric laughs airly at your composure and takes a few steps closer towards you, you let the male lead you, finding comfort in his secure words and actions.
Eric offers you his arms to hold when you try to get on the skateboard. He is peering at you from under his eyelashes when you put one of your legs onto the wood, his grip on your forearm getting firmer when you try to get your other foot on as well– and you must admit that you suddenly don’t feel like you might die anymore when there’s someone holding you and standing by your side. 
“See? It’s not that hard,” Eric mumbles, his voice low and reassuring from the proximity. You notice your hands sweating a little when his palm envelopes yours– damn the sun and its unbearable heat making you embarrass yourself– but he doesn’t mention it as he firmly holds you and meets your eyes. “I’m gonna drag you around a bit so you get used to it before trying yourself,” he says before taking a few steps forward, preparing to be your own type of personal driver.
Having him instruct you and help you around makes you feel more comfortable on the board. Sunwoo would never do such a thing for you– he’d enjoy watching you fall down and break your neck and possibly die– so you’re more than happy to have someone in your life that takes care of you in ways your older brother refuses to. 
The skateboard moves forward a little, starting slow, but then picking up speed as Eric jogs a little, making you laugh at the action. He does not have to go above and beyond, but he still does– but you guess it’s good for him to let out his energy somewhere. After a while, he looks back at you and meets your eye with a warm gaze, making you nod at him reassuringly and hold up a thumb of the hand he’s not holding right now, signaling that you’re okay and enjoying yourself. That has the male let go of your hand and let you take the road with the laws of physics, moving forward by yourself with the force he created. 
It’s nice. It’s fun. 
Yes, you totally understand why Eric and Sunwoo wanted skateboards after seeing them on TV. Hell, you want one now.
“Try it yourself now!” Eric encourages you as the board naturally comes to a stop under you, and his smiling face is enough for you to take initiative and nod, relocating one foot off the wood and placing it on the floor, then kicking it and making yourself move on the simple vehicle.
A moment of surprise envelopes you like a warm hug when you manage to not fall off and keep your balance, the joy of it making you try to go faster on the board, kicking once, twice against the pavement with the sole of your old, beaten up shoe. “I’m doing it!” you yell, glancing back at Eric standing on the sidewalk, watching you with excited eyes. The male offers you a victorious holler, something that makes you break into a laugh, makes your confidence blossom in marvelous ways.
Confidence rises in you so much you try to take a U-turn and go back to your teacher– perhaps showing off that you really got the hang of it now, or something– but as you try to maneuver the board and turn right, there it comes: the moment where you realize that you were, once again, too overly-confident in your abilities that are, sadly, very poor. Your body sways from side to side, your poor balance laughs at you and points an accusing finger at your attempts, and, well, to put it frankly, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and the moment plays in slow motion as you lose the board from below your feet– the wood flying somewhere to the opposite side of the road, not at all where you meant to go in the first place– and your body inevitably comes crashing to the ground.
Awaiting the hard pavement meeting your nose and breaking it, you brace yourself with palms outstretched in front of you, the last remains of self-perseverance entering the sane parts of your brain in what you think are the last seconds of your miserable life. Another moment of surprise greets you when your yelp is muffled against something soft and your hands don’t hit the hard pavement, your ears filled with a grunt that belongs to another human swiftly chiming in and catching you before you fall.
Firm hands hold your waist– the touch somehow familiar, enveloping you in a strange sense of deja vu– and even though your body goes limp in terror, the male has you back on your feet in no time, his palms on the exposed skin of your stomach. The realization has you burning up as you look up and meet Eric’s eyes, gasping at the closeness of his face to yours. 
“You okay over there?” he asks as you unconsciously study his face– you never noticed his nose looked this nice up close– before you wake out of it and nod urgently, breaking away from his hold. You’re not gonna try to calculate the effort he must have put in just to chime in and catch you from where he was standing in such a short moment, but something about the passing thought of it has you weak in your knees from gratefulness. 
“Uhm- yeah,” you nod, kicking the pavement with your stained shoes, “I just… miscalculated my skills, that’s all,” you sheepishly hum, hearing the boy snicker at your shaken-up composure.
Watching him take off and retrieve his skateboard from where it wandered off against the curb– much to his golden retriever energy– you sigh and prepare to go sit back on the sidewalk, having enough of new experiences from the shock still lingering in your fingertips. You take a glance down the road, seeing your older brother cruising on the street– when and how he got there, you truly have no idea– when you hear Eric, who seemingly has different ideas for your next actions, call at you from the middle of the pavement.
“Where are you going? Come back!” he asks, having you look at him in surprise, mouth agape and eyes big, staring at him. He now has the board under his shoulder, but puts it back on the road and points at it, shrugging to himself. “I’ll push you down the road, it’s gonna be fun!”
“Eric, I’m literally going to die–”
“No, you’re not. Come on, I promise,” he says, but still, he doesn’t have you convinced. Your feet move against your best conclusions, though, and when you come to a halt right in front of your companion, he offers you a boyish grin. “Sit down on it, that way you’re more balanced. I swear you’re not gonna fall off, okay? I got you.”
“You promise?”
“Yes,” he nods, determined.
“Pinky swear,” you mumble, holding up your pinky finger– all thoughts of seeming childish pushed to the side in the desperate moment– and the male in front of you shakes his head in disbelief, breaking into a laugh.
“Cute,” he huffs, “yeah, okay. Pinky swear,” he nods, interlacing your pinky with his and bumping his thumb against yours, the seal foolishly making you feel more secure as you follow his order and take a seat on the skateboard, your hands gripping the bottom of the wood so hard your knuckles turn white.
“Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1–” he chants as he pushes you, two steady hands coming in contact with your shoulder blades, force making you move on the board, wheels taking you down with gravity. The sound of Eric’s shoes hitting the pavement fills your ears as you go faster, and as you finally get to the part of the hill that takes a downwards slope, he offers you a final push, sending you down the road. 
Wind makes your hair fly back, your surroundings blurring as you yelp and scream, but you can’t say you’re not enjoying the ride. Eric was right– it was fun, you liked it, and something about the gesture had you all warm on the inside. The breeze has you cool down a little in the summer heat, and the board continues to move even as you pass your older brother standing at the bottom of the slope, away from your trajectory. 
Body relaxing when the skateboard finally slows down, you let out a heartfelt laughter. Turning back and seeing Eric jog down the road with a humongous grin on his face, you offer him two thumbs up above your head, watching as he returns the gesture and makes his way back to the two of you on the bottom of the small hill.
The truth is, this was the day you realized Eric Sohn has always found his way to make you feel included and safe. 
You can’t help but feel grateful.
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AUGUST OF 1999
“Sunwoo, you have to tie a knot here and then– no, you dumbass, you’re doing it completely wrong,” you mourn as you watch your older brother with a mess of thread in his lap, a focused scowl on his face. There’s a fan standing across from you, blowing cold air into your face, but you still feel yourself grow heated with frustration as Sunwoo just can’t help but not understand the art of making friendship bracelets. It’s not like you’re forcing him to do them– he was the one that asked you to show him how to, muttering something about offering one to his classmate Yeji once he’s back in school– so in theory, he should be putting in effort, no? 
Or maybe he is. Maybe he’s just… incompetent.
“I don’t get it,” Sunwoo hums under his breath, sighing as he leans against the sofa in your living room, the two of you sitting on the floor accompanied by his best friend squinting at you from the opposite side, a comic book in the latter's hand. The myth of men not being able to multi-task is quickly thrown into the bin as you watch Eric pay equal amount of attention to the comic book and the dialogue between you and your brother, and when Sunwoo seems to give up on the art of making friendship bracelets, his best friend can’t help but laugh.
“You’re giving up already? This is how you want to get a girlfriend?” you poke your brother to his side and take the threads off his lap, examining the mess of a safety pin and meters of yarn, all knotted up and not coming along in the shape you taught him to at all.
“It’s not to get a girlfriend, I just-”
“Sure,” you roll your eyes, huffing as you roll his poor attempt at friendship bracelet into a ball and throw it to the corner of the room, making a mental note to pick it up and throw it to the bin later. “You know what, just give her this one and pretend you made it,” you mutter, taking a bracelet you'd already made to demonstrate in between your fingers and throw it into Sunwoo’s lap, the older one catching it and examining it under his nose.
“That looks pretty good,” he hums, making you snort at his appreciative comment. The bracelet is pink and red, the colors just screaming romance and cute energy, which is exactly what a girl needs to be swayed by your brother. You can’t really believe a bracelet will make her swoop into his arms, because truthfully, with your brother’s face and manners, every living thing is keeping a fair distance, but hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, does it? Maybe his classmate is… majorly blind? That might do it?
“Of course it looks good,” you scoff, “that’s because I made it,” you nod, averting your gaze towards your lap, threading your fingers through the yarn you attached to a safety pin on your sweatpants to keep the growing friendship bracelet in place. 
“Then why is the one you’re making right now so ugly?” Eric asks, pointing towards the creation. 
Glancing up at the male slowly, mentally throwing all different kinds of curses at him for daring to talk badly about your craft, you huff. “What do you mean, ugly?”
“The colors… they don’t… they don’t really go together,” Eric sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck, quickly averting his gaze from you and gluing it back into his comic book. You think that if he doesn’t stop being a smart-ass and throw jabs at your artistic choices, he’s gonna have to protect his comic book with his own body– and you bet he’d do that, because he borrowed it from the library. The fees for damage are high.
“That’s just… not true at all,” you muse, but groggily take a look at the creation once again, but now, thanks to the remark, seeing it in a completely different way. Shades of orange, brown and purple stare back at you amidst a little disappointedly, and as you thread the yarn and make a couple of knots to end the bracelet, you can’t help but feel a pout growing on your face from the realization. Eric might be right. It does look a little bad…
“Whatever. Your taste is just bad,” you snap as you finish off the craft piece, unclasping the safety pin and sliding the bracelet off the inside, freeing it from the hold. Eric laughs a little at your frustrated state– similarly to what you do when you manage to get Sunwoo upset– and with that, you sigh and put the bracelet on the coffee table.
“I’m going out to the store to get some chocolates,” you say as you stand up, goal clear in your mind, “have fun, losers.”
“You’re still collecting the stickers from these?” Sunwoo asks, a mischievous smile growing on his lips. The teasing is inevitable and coming very soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it– you’re fully aware, which only further makes you want to escape the situation more quickly. Rolling your eyes at your brother’s antics, you move towards the door. 
“Yes, Sunwoo, I am. They’re cute and make me happy, do you have a problem with that?” you point an accusing finger at the male, having him shrug, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
“You’re such a kid,” he huffs, averting his gaze from you when he lands the comment, the jab coming straight at your fragile heart.
“Okay, then,” you note, “I’ll just have my pretty and cute bracelet back, and you can get your girlfriend something else-”
The male quickly regains his previous composure, swatting his hands in hurry just to make you halt in your sentence. His eyes are big and his mouth is a little agape in terror as he tries to save his ass, plea written all over his face. “I was just joking! Don’t be so petulant… go get your cute stickers, they’re so fun!”
Humming to yourself, your face is tugged up into a victorious smile. “That's what I thought. So, as I was saying, have fun, losers.”
“Wait!” Eric suddenly calls for you, making you turn on your heel in the middle of your escape, eyes peering at the male. “Don’t I get a bracelet too?”
The request catches you off guard. There’s a certain kind of spark in Eric Sohn’s eyes as he asks the question, and you can’t really place it in any category, but it has you nervously shrugging at the preposition. You’re not really sure why Eric would want a bracelet from you, but to avoid confrontation and also the weird leap of your heart surely leading you into cardiac arrest, you only shrug and move back inside of the living room, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you scan the surroundings, searching for something.
“Sure,” you nod, taking the ugly bracelet off the table and offering it to him, “you can have that one.”
You hold a staring contest with the older boy for a couple of seconds, his head undoubtedly swirling with arguments and comments about the apparel of the friendship bracelet, but he’s smart– he must know the survival of his beloved comic book must be at stake. So, he only nods and smiles at you, outstretching his hand to you and nudging his head in its direction.
“Okay,” he hums, “tie it for me?”
A second comes by– a heartbeat, really– in which you chew on your bottom lip and gasp at the request, but still, you nod and come closer, crouching down to be at his level and taking the thread into your fingers. You wrap the bracelet around his wrist, making sure to leave a bit of wiggle room before you tie a knot, bringing the ends together, all while feeling the eyes of Eric glued to your face, watching every micro expression flash through your unsettling composure.
When you’re done, making a move to hide your hands behind your back and standing up, your limbs bump into each other and send an unspoken sense of electricity all through your body. The sensation is so strange you don’t meet anyone’s eye before you leave the room, yelling out a goodbye as you hurriedly open the front door and run out to get fresh air (it’s August, though. The air is humid and only makes your head spin more).
You clear your throat before you take off to the grocery store. It's only when you're halfway there that you realize you'd forgotten to bring your wallet with you. It's okay, though– you take this chance to walk around, regaining your casualty.
You bet Eric will take the bracelet off in a matter of a week.
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SEPTEMBER OF 1999
The leaves start turning orange and the weather a bit colder when you become hyper-aware of your shifting composure whenever Eric Sohn is around. The way you feel heat rushing to your cheeks whenever he calls you cutie, a nickname he’s had reserved for you since you two were little kids, the way you feel weak in your knees whenever he casually brings his arm around your shoulders or when he bends down to tie your shoelace in the middle of the sidewalk. You don’t really know what those sudden changes are, yet, you feel a bit embarrassed by them whenever they take place. You don’t think it’s normal to feel this way around your brother’s best friend, and the more you hang out with him, the more you wish you read less books as a child– because now, you’re also hyper-aware of the title those feelings may have. 
Still, it only comes to you on one September afternoon– you wake up from blissful unawareness and jolt with the quickly opening pit in your stomach at the strange revelation.
“Eric! Sunwoo isn’t home, though?” you mumble, confused as you notice the boy standing on your doorway, a plastic bag in his hand and a red Nike jacket enveloping his frame.
“I know, he said he’s hanging out with Juyeon hyung today,” he nods, “I brought you something, though,” he says, holding up the bag and making sure you get a chance to see it, offering you a boyish grin.
“Oh?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows at the male. When you do nothing to invite him inside, he does so himself– slightly nudging you in your side as he passes your figure and enters your house. He acts like he owns the place, and by the amount of time he’s spent in your home, you’d think he does– he doesn’t, though. The only thing he owns is just a lot of audacity.
The male takes off his shoes in the entryway and walks his way over to your room– a surprising act, considering he’s spent the least amount of time in this very place– and when he’s sure you’re following his every move, he empties the contents of the bag to the middle of your freshly made bed. Watching as approximately ten items fall out of the plastic, your eyes widen with surprise as you recognise your favorite chocolate– the mini bars with stickers inside, the ones you collect and stick into your journal and look at in the middle of the night, giggling to yourself and kicking your feet at the adorable pictures in your make-shift collect book.
“Woah,” you gasp when the male looks at you, seemingly awaiting your response, and when he gets the wished outcome, pride overtakes his features, shrugging to himself.
“My mum got some for free because she bought a lot of cabbage for kimchi yesterday,” he explains, “I thought of you when I saw them, so I bought you some more.”
“I- you-” you stutter, emotions too big for your own good swelling all inside your fragile, little self, hands running into your hair and tugging at the roots to wake yourself up from the dream. “You didn’t have to!”
“We got them anyway, and I know you like the stickers,” Eric shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, completely ignoring the fact that he said he bought you some more, your heart skipping a beat at the sentiment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively take a step closer to your bed, gathering a bar of chocolate into your hand and opening it, taking a bite.
“You can have the stickers if you give me some chocolate,” Eric says close to your ear, almost as if he was creating a masterplan, to which you eagerly nod and plop onto your bed, moving the bars of sweets into one pile. As you continue to munch on the first one, you unwrap the sticker and look at it, praying to yourself as if you were checking if your lottery ticket was worth any cent– hoping you get a sticker you don’t own yet.
The image of a cute panda would cheer anyone up even in their darkest moments– not you, though, as you mourn and sigh, disappointment clear in your features. 
“What?” Eric asks, eyes big pools of worry.
“I already got that one.”
“Ah,” he nods, seemingly understanding– much to your surprise, “well, we got 9 more tries, let’s get to eating.”
Wrappers are rustling in your bed sheets as you and Eric eat the concerning amount of chocolate, gathering the stickers in a little pile on top of your notebook, promising each other to not look at the stickers as you go and just make a grand reveal at the end. Eric’s full cheeks are a sight you enjoy, telling him he looks like a squirrel– to which he sends a light flick to your forehead, telling you you don’t look much different– and soon enough, the nine bars left disappear from your plain sight (you only had 3 and Eric ate the remaining 5. He’s a growing boy, though, so you understand. He needs to get his undying energy from somewhere.).
“Ready for the reveal?” you ask, locking your gaze with Eric.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
With that, you get to the pile of stickers in the middle of your bedsheets. Looking at the first one, there’s a happy squeal cutting out of your throat, the image of an adorable yellow duck warming you up with euphoria. 
“You don’t have that one yet?”
“I don’t,” you nod, “this is just perfect.”
Eric nods and watches you with a certain kind of warmth in his gaze as you open up your notebook and stick the newest addition to your little sticker farm– or a ZOO, however you wanna call it. The next sticker from the pile is added as well– a brown, big bear– and the next one too, the most adorable colorful parrot slapped to the corner of your page. 
The rest of your stickers are the ones you already own, though– a displeased look takes over your features at the knowledge, but still, you can’t help but beam at the fact that you have 3 new additions to your collection, and they were a gift from Eric Sohn himself. Someone who doesn’t make fun of your childish habit. Someone who feeds your little interest, watches you with excitement in his eyes as you indulge. Someone not like your brother. 
Someone you could never see the way you see your brother.
“What do you do with the duplicates?” Eric asks, pointing to the sad pile on the top of your notebook. His figure is closer to you now, since he wanted to watch you stick the animals into your notebook, his crossed legs almost pressed against yours on the small bed.
“Well, usually, I just throw them out,” you shrug, “but since you’re here…” you muse, the idea plopping into your head like the newest discovery you should probably patent, peeling the back of one of the dog stickers off and swiftly turning towards your companion, mischief sparkling in your eyes.
You put the sticker on his left cheek, making the boy jump. “Hey!”
Giggling, taking another one of the stickers and pressing it to the middle of his forehead, Eric starts to fight you, your bodies wrestling on the bed. You don’t think he puts much effort into getting you off him– that, or he’s insanely weak– and in no time, his face is adorned with all different kinds of animals, his hair messy from tussling in your bedsheets. The image has you laughing before you realize you’re basically straddling him on your bed, his big eyes gaping at you from below, his appearance enough to make something in your brain short-circuit and make you leap off him, clearing your throat.
Heat rushes into your cheeks as you take a seat next to him, playing with your fingers. You pray for anything to come and ease the awkwardness you caused, and sure enough, today must be your lucky day. “Hey, look here!” 
You call for the boy as you swiftly take your polaroid camera off your bedside table– the one that belonged to your dad, the one you fought with Sunwoo about, the one your mum said was yours because Sunwoo is too careless with his things to keep it safe– and snap a picture of the puppy-like boy, laughing at the fact that now, you have the image of him looking dumb and covered in stickers forever. Or at least until he doesn't take it away from you– which he attempts quickly.
“Hey!” he yelps again, huffing as he lunges at you, trying to take the picture out of your grasp as you drop the camera into your soft sheets. Your feet take you to the living room, navigating through furniture, and when you don’t hear footsteps follow you, you think you’re safe– Eric does have a lot of energy, but chasing you around gets tiring for him quickly when he knows you'll never let him win.
Entering your room once again, prepared to find him on your bed like before, you’re taken by surprise as a shutter sound goes off right after you open the door, a polaroid picture taken of your face making you temporarily blind at the flash.
“Eric!” you whine, hating that there’s a picture of you standing shocked at your doorway now forever in the universe– not really caring that the boy just got you back with the exact stunt you pulled on him just a few minutes ago. Before you get a chance to blink out the blind spots in your vision caused by the flash and run after him, though, you feel him gently press you out of the doorway and slip outside, the sound of the front door opening and closing after him resonating along his slowly disappearing, amused laughter.
Serves you right, doesn’t it? 
Sighing, you shake your head and take a seat on your bed, the picture of the boy still in between your fingertips. You only take a look at it when your vision comes back to normal, and as the image of Eric covered in stickers, hair messy and cheeks rosy below the animal print comes into your sight, the revelation arrives the same second a starstruck smile plays with your features.
And with that, you’re absolutely terrified. 
Throwing the polaroid picture onto the bedside table and lunging yourself into the sheets, you scream into your pillow and wish for the feelings to disappear– because in what world does a crush on your brother’s best friend ever come to a happy ending?
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OCTOBER OF 1999
Once October hits, you find yourself home alone more often than you’d like. Sure, you don’t mind having some me time to read comic books or watch the TV uninterrupted in the living room, but still– alone turns lonely pretty quickly, and somehow, you start to regret the fact that you’ve been relying on your older brother and his friends for so long instead of making some connections on your own.
Sunwoo started to play soccer at school– something is telling you that he might go far if he keeps it up– and that’s why he’s been stuck at practice every single day, coming home late in the evening all tired, but happy, so you’re not really complaining. Eric works in the little bistro downtown now, since he wanted to make some money and not rely on the allowance Mrs. Sohn gives him every month, and it’s not like you were that close to begin with, but the fact that the boy is now too busy to meet you is making your spirit fall just the tiniest bit. And with your mother always being at work, you find yourself alone in your room, laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling. 
Sometimes, you journal. About anything and everything, really. You don’t really think you’re ever gonna read back the entries once you’re older, since they would just be a reminder of how miserable and boring your teenage years really were, and that’s why you allow yourself to be authentic. On most days, you write about your assignments for school. Sometimes you bad mouth a classmate or two– gossiping with the diary pages, because you don’t really have any human beings to do so in real life– and seldom, you allow yourself to get into topics that evoke the slightest bits of existential crisis in you.
Topics like college. Growing up. Your lack of hobbies and social interaction with the outer world. The newly found crush on Eric Sohn…
Okay, maybe you do write about the boy with brown hair and dark eyes a little too often. You can’t help it, though– when he’s not giving you any new interactions to dwell on, you have to just pick apart the old ones. You think it’s a natural reaction.
And that’s exactly what you’re doing one October afternoon, the lamp in your room on, since the evening comes faster when the weather is colder, as you’re laying in your bed and kicking your feet back and forth, chewing on the end of your pencil. The sound of your doorbell resonates through the house suddenly and startles you, making you jump awake from your delirious delusions.
Mentally going through the list of possible visitors you could have– because it can’t be your mother or your brother, since they never forget to carry their house keys– you’re lost, not really finding any fitting candidates. Furrowing your brows, lost in thought and frankly, a bit confused, you plant your socked feet onto the wooden floor and walk over to the front door just in time for the bell to ring again. Scratching the back of your neck in nerves, thinking of precautions you could take for your own safety– since your front door doesn’t have a peep hole and you don’t want to open the door to a complete stranger– you clear your throat and yell over the door.
“Who is it?” you ask.
“Delivery!” a voice calls through the door, making you huff. 
“I didn’t order any food?” you yell back, confused. “Sir, there’s another house behind ours, sometimes the mailmen get confused and we get their mail. Maybe try there?” 
“The address is right, though?” the voice calls again, and somehow, it sounds kind of familiar… no, it can’t be, you dumb goose. You’re just imagining things because you’ve spent the last 20 minutes writing about the curve of his nose into your diary.
“There must be a mistake-”
“Come on, Y/N, open the door,” the voice on the other side mourns, the mention of your name making you jump, completely startled. The tone the man says it in is sweet like honey, though, so familiar in your ears, that you mentally want to slap yourself– so you weren’t dreaming. It is him.
Dragging your hand through your hair to smooth it down, praying you look at least a little presentable– although in your stained sweatpants and the Pokémon shirt you inherited from Sunwoo when he grew out of it, you doubt that’s even possible– you open the door and try to offer Eric a warm smile. “What are you doing here?”
“Food delivery,” Eric shrugs, pointing with his thumb in the direction behind his back, where his bike undoubtedly stands up against your gate.
“Oh…. but I already told you I didn’t order anything,” you mumble, confused. Studying his face– because a girl can indulge when she has the opportunity, am I right? – you notice his hair has grown a little longer, falling into his eyes. You bet it’s hard for him to see, but you must admit it looks nice, and you almost tell him, before you catch yourself and break away from the sentiment. 
The male snickers. “I know, I was just joking,” he says, “I did bring you food, though.”
“Why?” you ask, confused when he bends over and picks up a plastic bag off the ground, a container of food inside, the warmth of the contents making condensation appear all over the red sack. 
“We made this by mistake and it was just gonna be thrown out if nobody took it,” he shrugs, “and I figured you haven’t eaten yet– or if you did, you just had those cold kimbap rolls from the store– and I wanted to get some warm food into your stomach.”
“Ah,” you gasp, nodding at the explanation. It does explain the source of the food really well, but truthfully, it explains nothing about the fact why Eric thought of bringing you the food instead of taking it home with himself– he’s a foodie if you’ve ever seen one. The idea of him worrying about if you were fed or not is equally as strange and interesting in your head– still, you clasp your hand around the bag and take it, the smell making you involuntarily hungry. “Thank you.”
Eric only nods at you, a smile beaming at his face. “Well,” he sighs, “I’d love to stay longer and hang out, but I’m still on the clock, so…” he mumbles, taking a hesitant step backwards towards his bike, eyes never breaking contact with yours.
“Oh, right,” you nod, “that’s okay. Have a fun day at work!” you muse, watching him as he grins and finally retrieves back his bike, opening up the gate to your property and escaping, waving at you as he gets on.
“I’ll see you soon!” he calls as he rides off, your eyes following him until his figure disappears behind a corner, your ears buzzing with excitement and your lower lip trapped between your teeth with the innocent promise.
Walking back into the house, you grin as you close the front door behind you and carry the food into the kitchen. You quickly get the containers out of the damp bag, putting them onto the wooden table, and gasp when you find a sticky note on the very top one, a messy handwriting scribbled in a rush, but stuck to the food with care.
Eat well and don’t skip meals, Y/N-ie!! – Eric x
Not being able to battle your smile anymore, you decide to open up the containers and stuff your mouth with the food instead– only to find your favorite dish inside, staring back at you in what seems to be a dream that’s too good to wake up from. 
And sure, you are delusional, but are you delusional enough to believe that this wasn’t all a coincidence? You’re not so sure.
Still, you eat the food with feet kicking back and forth as you sit in the silent kitchen, the empty house no longer feeling so lonely. When you’re done, you throw the trash out– everything but the sticky note, which you glue into your diary a few minutes later, hoping to keep the memory forever.
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NOVEMBER OF 1999
The world around you is dark as you step outside of cram school, your eyes are tired and your skin is prickled with goosebumps in the chilly air. You despise going to cram school, but your mother told you you have to– since you didn’t have any athletic features that could get you far in life like Sunwoo, you had to be good at studying, or else you won’t get into university. There was a lot of work ahead of you, but since you didn’t really have anything else to do in the day, you didn’t protest and went anyway.
The days are usually very long and you get off very late, resulting in you being tired almost all the time. When you get home, you undress yourself and change into your sleep clothes and doze off until the morning, when you have to wake up and go to school again– it’s an exhausting cycle, but you know you have to endure it for your own sake.
Walking down the steps that lead out the cram school building, you stretch your body and huff, cursing at yourself for the fact that you didn’t bring a jacket– you forgot that evenings get really chilly, and frankly speaking, you didn’t have much time to think when you were rushing to get ready in the morning. You’ll just have to get through it, you think to yourself as you walk in the direction of your house– the last bus to your neighborhood already left an hour ago, when you were in the middle of revising division– your sneakers kicking the stray rocks below your feet as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie lower, desperately trying to feel more heat.
“Do you never watch where you’re going? That’s gonna get you in trouble one day, you know,” you hear a familiar voice say, the joking tone making your heart skip a few beats as you place the owner of the saccharine voice to its face. Looking up, slightly alarmed at being caught in such a distressed state, you gasp.
“I was… watching my step, I guess,” you shrug as you come into a halt in front of him, shivering both under Eric’s gaze and the cold weather at once. “What are you doing here? Deliveries?”
“I just got off,” he says, “so I figured I could stop by. Sunwoo said you’re going to cram school, I thought you might enjoy some company on your way home.”
Gaping at his explanation, you nod, completely startled. The idea of your brother talking about you in front of Eric, the boy you have a very embarrassing, very big crush on scares you, to say the least. See, it doesn’t really matter that the boy grew up with you, pretty much seeing you at your lowest whenever he was around over at your house when you were both just little kids– the image of Sunwoo telling Eric about finding you sobbing at your comic book (the scene got too sad, nobody can really blame you) or about how your favorite jeans ripped right before you had to go to school one morning is terrifying. You don’t really want him to know about these things. He may act like your brother sometimes, but you never really saw him in that light in the first place.
“Well, then,” you clear your throat, “it’s… it’s good to see you,” you say. Eric shows you his boyish grin as your lips utter out the words, and you can’t help but mirror it, your eyes locking with the male. As if you just took a step back, your eyes see him in a light you’ve never seen him before– as if this was your first time meeting your brother’s best friend– and something about the sentiment has your stomach feeling all uneasy, heat rushing to your face. His hair is styled in a way that tells you that he didn’t really style it (or if he did, it looked truly effortless in your eyes, so props to him), pushed back a little and revealing his forehead, a few of the strands carelessly falling into his eyes. His jawline is sharper than how it was when you first met the boy, and with the realization of a foolish teenage girl, you have to admit that Eric Sohn grew up to be a very attractive, attentive man.
“You’re cold?” he says, although the sentence sounds more like a statement rather than a question, before he shakes his head at your antics and heaves out a sigh. “You should’ve taken a jacket with you when you went, you know it gets cold in the evening,” he scolds you. In those times, he reminds you the most of your brother– because although you and Sunwoo act like you hate each other sometimes, you know the older male still cares about you. He just hates showing it, which translates in his scolding tone whenever you do something wrong or against his wishes. 
In those times, Eric reminds you the most of the way your brother treats you, and you somehow hate it. You despise the fact, because that means he must only see you as someone like his younger sister– he never had one, so maybe he just likes to compensate for it by taking care of you all the time. Maybe he feels responsible to do so because of Sunwoo. The thought makes you equally as nauseous– you’d never want him to hang out with you just because he feels like he has to. 
“I didn’t have time in the morning,” you grunt, rolling your eyes at him. You avert your gaze from the male, for it makes you slightly uncomfortable after your previous thoughts, so when the noise of a zipper being pulled down and the weight of fabric on your shoulders brings you back to reality, you snap your head around at him all alarmed. 
“What? Wear it,” he says, head shrugging towards the direction of his jacket on your figure. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t.”
Trying to wrestle out of the red material, you squirm in the hold of the windbreaker– Eric’s hands gripping each side of the jacket, as if predicting your next moves, making sure it stays on you and doesn’t fall down. His strong arms tug you closer to him to make your fight more difficult– and he’s successful with his efforts, because the proximity of him and his smell engulfs you and unarms you, heat rushing to your cheeks as you halt in your movements.
“Stop,” you mourn, “I don’t need it.”
“Yes you do,” he insists, “so stop being a baby about it and wear it.”
Staring into his eyes, as if to mentally tell him to stop what he’s doing– to stop how he’s treating you, how he’s making you all weak in your knees and sleepless at nights because of how much you think of him and hope he’s doing well each day, to stop being so gentle with you and taking care of you, because it brings all sorts of both doubts and delusions into your head– but he doesn’t back down. You’ve known him for quite some time, you should already be aware of just how stubborn he can be.
“Arms in,” he hums, holding on to the jacket and waiting for you to wear it properly. One thing about you– you can always admit your defeat. So, with a sigh, you put your arms through the sleeves of Eric’s red windbreaker, shrinking a little under his firm gaze. He looks at you with a look full of something you can’t decipher, and it’s all making you so, so insanely lost in the many thoughts and feelings swirling around your head, not helping your current state.
“I already have a brother, y’know,” you mumble in a moment of weakness, looking at your feet– your dirty white sneakers almost touching his from how close you are standing right now, “so you should stop treating me like one.”
A moment of silence overtakes you two, and you suddenly feel like you’ve done something wrong. Still, Eric’s hands are holding on to the sides of the opened jacket, keeping you close to him. “Hm?” 
Clearing your throat and shaking your head, you snicker to yourself. “Forget it.”
“No- I mean,” he blurts out, tone of voice a little nervous, “do you see me as your brother figure?” he asks, tone of voice more quiet now, more gentle.
Breathing in the crispy air, taking a moment before you reply, you shake your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “no, I don’t. I- I don’t think I do,” you say, scared of what your answer will bring out of him. You don’t really know why, but at this moment, you feel insanely fragile– as if any bad move could make you break in his hands, waiting for him to glue you back together. 
Metaphorically, he does just that. “Good,” he nods, leaning down towards you, hands gripping the zipper of his jacket and zipping it together, making sure no cold can get to your bones as his fingers tug it up towards the very top, under your chin. “Because I’ve never seen you as my sister either.”
His answer once again startles you– but when you take a step back from the situation, you think it was in a good way. His hands grip your shoulders for a second as his eyes meet yours and he offers you a warm smile. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he says, tugging you towards the fence where you find his bike, his motions guiding you like a rag doll sucked out of all life.
“Hop in,” he motions towards the back of the bike, where the basket would usually be– Eric moved it towards the front, though, leaving enough room for you to sit at– and as you do, he takes a seat in front of you and looks back at you over his shoulder. “Hold on tight so you don’t fall.”
Like in a trance, your arms sneak around his middle– this was the first time you had this kind of physical touch with him, and just the thought of it makes you want to scream your throat out– before the male takes off on the bike, riding towards your neighborhood. With the cold wind slapping your face, you foolishly rest your cheek on his shoulder blade and close your eyes, enjoying the closeness of his body keeping you warm. 
If anyone asked you about the action, you’d tell them you were just tired.
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DECEMBER OF 1999
Socked feet make their way through the room, the sound of footsteps resonating on the laminated floor, as the short male comes up to you with a bowl of potato chips in his right hand and a bottle of soda under his left arm. Eric Sohn sighs at you, shaking his head in disbelief, before he places the items onto the coffee table and takes a seat next to you on the floor, opening up the bottle and pouring the three of you drinks.
“Can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you losers, of all people,” Eric snickers, having you roll your eyes at the male and grumpily furrow your eyebrows at his sentence.
“No one’s stopping you if you wanna go, y’know,” you grunt as you take the filled glass off the table, taking a sip of the sweet drink and sighing at him. If he’s gonna take a leap into the new year with you while making you annoyed, he may as well leave now and do whatever his initial plan was– once again, no one’s stopping him if that’s what he wants to do.
“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it would’ve been so much more fun if we all went to Juyeon hyung’s. Everyone’s there celebrating, but we’re stuck here in your room.” 
“Well, Eric,” your brother smiles ironically at him, shrugging to himself, “it’s not like it’s my fault you’re not over at Juyeon hyung’s right now. You chose to spend the new years here with me. My mother prohibited me from going there, not yours.”
The argument has the male shrug, his eyes averting your brother’s gaze once his comment gets a bit too honest and realistic. It’s true and he’s right– it’s not like Eric’s mum told him he can’t go celebrate with his friends, because she didn’t. Eric’s mum trusts him and wants him to have fun and do what all the kids his age are doing. Your mum, on the other hand, is making you and Sunwoo stay home for New Year’s Eve to celebrate with your family, because, as she quoted, New Year’s Eve the only time she gets time off work, and she wants to spend it with her kids– forget the fact that you’re currently sitting locked in your room with your friend, protesting the family time just because you can– and when Sunwoo told her she has to stop treating him like a little kid, she told him she has all the right to do so, because he is her kid. And that’s how the party he was supposed to attend with Eric (the party you foolishly thought you’re gonna have to tag along to, not hating the sentiment as much as before now) got canceled from your brother’s plans.
“Well,” Eric chews on the inside of his cheek, “I did it for you two. Be grateful.”
“Whatever,” you hum, “let’s turn on the TV. I bet there’s some variety show on.”
Eric heaves out a sigh as he reaches for the TV remote, clicking the power button and making the boxy device in front of you light up. Your mum got you a TV in your room when you complained about being too bored one November day, and although the box of entertainment didn’t really help like you imagined it to, you’re glad it’s of service at least today. Instead of the expected variety show, though, there’s news on– the face of the old announcer looking at you with a serious look on his face, the professional tone making chills run down your spine, for he reminds you a bit of your mother when she scolds you. You think that’s a common news announcer trait. 
“As the year 2000 approaches, computer programmers realize that computers might not interpret the 00 in the software as 2000, but 1900. The softwares currently running only use a two-digit code for the year, excluding the 19. The data was excluded because the data storage is costly and takes up too much space. Activities that were planned on a daily basis could be damaged or flawed,” the announcer says, making the three of you look at the screen with interest. Maybe it’s true that when you get older, you get more interested in news– you think it’s good to know what’s going on around you, although the topic discussed right now might not even concern you in the slightest.
“Banks, which calculate the interest rates on a daily basis, could face real problems. Interest rates are the amount of money a lender, such as a bank, charges a customer, such as an individual or business, for a loan. Instead of the rate of interest for one day, the computer could calculate a rate of interest for minus almost 100 years!” 
“Oops,” Eric lets out next to you, a reaction so far away from what a real adult would think of the situation. See, you are all just kids, after all.
“Centers of technology, such as power plants, are also threatened by this issue. Power plants depend on routine computer maintenance for safety checks, such as water pressure or radiation levels. Not having the correct date could throw off these calculations and possibly put nearby residents at risk,” the announcer continues, the information coming out of his mouth suddenly making you hyper aware of the reality you’re experiencing right now.
“Do we have a nuclear power plant nearby?” you ask in a hushed whisper, watching as the men next to you almost comically widen their eyes, shrugging.
“I’m not sure,” Sunwoo peeps.
“The worst of all, this software and hardware issue could cause such a big problem in nuclear energy facilities, where nuclear bombs and missiles could be set off, causing the world to go into utter chaos, or worse, an end,” the announcer concludes, the last word making you gasp in terror. 
“An end?” you chirp, sitting up straight in your seat as you look at the two men, now equally as terrified. There’s something in Sunwoo’s gaze that makes chills run down your spine, the reality crushing down on you with heavy measures. 
“I knew I shouldn’t have fought with mum. What if the last words the two of us exchanged before we die are the harsh words I had said yesterday?” your brother mourns, seeing as his best friend chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought.
“What did you say to your mum?”
“That- that I’ll never forgive her for ruining this for me,” he mumbles, his voice breaking at the end, “and… other things,” he adds, the hint of incoming panic making his best friend frantically wave his hands around and try to make your brother relax before he has to deal with the breakdown. If the world is ending, this is not how any of you want to go.
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Eric says, clearing his throat and pointing to the TV, “look! The show is on, we should watch before the year ends,” he proposes, taking the remote into his hand and turning the volume up to hopefully drown out Sunwoo’s thoughts and have him focus on something else. And it works– noting that your brother has an attention span of a 5 year old– he can hardly remember what he was worrying about just 30 seconds ago.
Still, the thought keeps bouncing around your head like a child in a bouncy castle. The words of the news anchor keep repeating in your brain, making your ears ring as you look at Eric from the corner of your eye, watching his angelic face. Oh how you hate disturbing the peace now that you’ve all calmed down– but still, you can’t deal with the worries alone. Checking the clock hung above the TV, noticing there’s at least 5 minutes left before midnight, you clear your throat, feeling your whole body on fire.
“Do you really think the world is gonna end?” you ask, cracking your knuckles in a nervous manner. Looking at Eric, pupils shaking, you find your brother’s best friend seemingly lost in thought. The music of the variety show program serves you three as a background sound now, none of you paying attention to the TV anymore, instead, focusing on all the things you've done wrong in your life and how somehow, this feels like karma for all of it.
“I dunno,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I mean- they said it’s possible! It was on the news, and they wouldn’t lie on the news…” he nervously mumbles, scratching the back of his head. 
“That’s what’s worrying me,” you sigh, “we shouldn’t have turned on the TV.”
“It was your idea in the first place!”
“And I’ll carry the burden into my grave,” you admit, gulping as you press a forced smile onto your lips.
Momentarily looking back at the TV, you desperately want to keep the thought of the world being over out of your head before you spend your last minutes on this earth going crazy– but now that you started, you can’t keep thinking about it. “Man, the world can’t end yet. There’s so many things I haven’t tried yet! I’m too young to die!”
The men don't reply to that– you presume they’re too busy trying to find other things to occupy themselves with instead of the inevitable– which has you dissatisfied as you throw your body back into the sofa, heaving out a sigh. Seconds go by painfully slow but also painfully fast at the same time, given the circumstances, as you listen to the cheerful song playing in the background and nudge your friend into his upper arm with your pointer finger, feeling his arm encircle your shoulders and pull you closer to him. The contact of his fingers on your upper arm makes you squirm and break out into a smile, feeling a particular lightness in your stomach at the action, a sensation that has you in shock. 
“I’m gonna talk with mum before we die,” Sunwoo suddenly calls as he stands up from his seat on the floor, sighing to himself, “I can’t go with the thought of her being upset with me,” he sentimentally adds before he’s out of the door, rushing towards the living room.
The space falls into momentary silence now that your brother is gone, having you chew on your bottom lip with nerves. You think now is the time to beg for forgiveness with the higher forces– I'm sorry for not studying well. I'm sorry for being rude and ungrateful towards my mum. I'm sorry for being greedy– when the sound of Eric’s voice resonates through the place as he speaks up again, waking you up from the anxious slumber, the clock now striking 2 minutes before midnight. “What would you wanna do before you die?” he asks.
The question is simple. You presume he wants simple answers– things like getting into college, getting a good job and making a lot of money, growing old– but as you lean away from him and get back to your place on his left, your eyes locked with his, you’re left clueless. There are so many things you have yet to achieve, and the idea of not being able to pushes a burden to your chest, but at this very moment, you can’t really name one. 
Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes scan his face. His firm eye contact has you a bit flustered, making you shrivel in your seat, and as the sound of the TV morphs from the song into a countdown from 55, you’re overwhelmed with the thought that your friend is insanely pretty– and he always has been, you just hated admitting it to yourself for the past few months, despite still being fully aware– and that now, when the world ends, you’re dying unkissed and alone.
Well, not completely alone, since Eric’s here. And he’s always been here– your whole life, since you can remember, and he’s here now as well, even though he should’ve been at Juyeon’s house. As the clock strikes 30 seconds away from midnight, your eyes involuntarily travel down to his chapped lips, all air knocked out of your lungs, the thoughts in your brain picking up on speed the closer you come to the end.
You’re dying soon. You’re dying in 30- now 29 seconds, and you’ve never kissed anyone before. You’re dying before you get a chance to hold hands with someone and have a partner, and you’re dying before you get a chance to tell Eric how you feel about him. There’s 28 seconds left until the end and you’re just staring at him like a coward, because you don’t really let yourself indulge in the silly warmth of your heart whenever you’re around your friend, but god, you can at least admit it to yourself before you die.
And as the clock gets closer and closer to midnight, now only giving you 20 seconds before it all ends and a missile lands on the top of your house, blowing up the whole town and making you all disappear, Eric’s question repeats itself in your brain. What would you want to do before you die?
The answer is suddenly painfully clear as you take action– leaning towards the boy on your right, face closer to his than it’s ever been before, your eyes counting all his eyelashes and focusing on his surprised, yet unmoving face– and as you hear the countdown reach 15, you close your eyes and press your lips against his. 
The contact makes you weak in your knees as your hands reach to his face to steady him, your own firework show erupting in your stomach, and suddenly you’re completely content with dying tonight– because at least you’re with Eric, at least you did something. You kiss your friend with something close to an unsaid confession, your lips staying on his throughout the rest of the countdown, the taste of soda you’ve both been drinking the whole evening mixing in the contact of your skin. You’re not sure you’re even doing this right– again, you’ve never kissed anyone before– but it doesn’t matter to you much as you let go of your worries, aware of the fact that in a few seconds, nothing will matter anymore when neither of you are going to be around to say anything to each other after the kiss is over.
The countdown rings in your ears– coming down from 5 as you scoot yourself closer to Eric, 4 as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheekbones, 3 as you still in your movements, 2 as you notice your knees bumping into each other on the ground and finally, 1 as you get ready to die, kissing your first and only love– when the sound of cheers and fireworks from the TV fills your ears instead, the world around you stilling and completely unchanged.
Your kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000. Your love for him passed a century.
Eyes fluttering open and your mouth letting go of his, the image of the boy with his lips slightly parted, eyes closed and cheeks rosy comes to you in the yellow light of your room, making your heart fall down to your stomach. He looks absolutely angelic, his hair slightly messy and the fabric of his shirt a little disheveled in the front, and even though you’d love to indulge in your foolish desires and kiss him some more, you’re quickly taken aback with the noise of the door to your room opening and making you jump away from Eric, your brother appearing out of thin air in the presence of your room. It serves you like a weird kind of reality check, Eric’s eyes opening and looking at your brother, and even though you two haven’t been caught, the male clears his throat and bites down on his lower lip, looking almost guilty.
Oh no. What have you done?
Suddenly, you feel insanely silly.
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JANUARY OF 2000
“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole day,” Sunwoo mumbles from beside you, his whole body engulfed in a pile of snow, “not that I care, but are you okay?”
“I thought you liked it when I don’t talk,” you mutter, playing with the frozen white all around you, seated on the red plastic sled at the top of the hill. You got tired after dragging it up from the bottom, and when you noticed that the rest of Sunwoo’s friends– Eric included– are still on their way up, you figured you could use up the time to relax and sit around for a while. It’s been quite some time since all of Sunwoo’s friends gathered to hang out at the same time, which made you surprised to see that your own brother invited you to tag along with them as they decided to go sledding on the second day of January, using up their break to best of their abilities. Which is also why you didn’t say no to the invitation– you thought sitting at home and moping around wouldn’t help you much.
“I do,” he says, nodding, “that’s why I’m asking what’s up– so I know what to do when I need to shut you up later,” Sunwoo hums, making you roll your eyes at the masked worry.
Shaking your head in disbelief, you scoff. “It’s nothing.”
“Sure,” he shrugs, “so you’re just going through puberty?” he teases, to which you take a handful of snow into your palm and lunge the white at him, satisfaction running through your veins when the snowball lands into his unsuspecting face, the male coughing and swatting his arms around to defend himself.
“Hey!” your brother screams at you once he gets the ice out of his eyes and his mouth, his body jumping into a standing position before he chases you around, the bubble of a laugh escaping your throat for the first time these days– they’re not wrong when they say malicious joy is the best kind of joy.
Running at the top of the hill, not really looking where you’re going– instead looking over your shoulder to see Sunwoo’s actions, preparing yourself to duck if he decides to turn your small quarrel into a snow fight– your legs get tangled with the red sled you left before you started a war with the angered man, a yelp cutting out of your throat as you get prepared to fall over and knock your teeth out.
Your body comes in contact with something half-firm, half-soft, and as your feet slip and the snow-covered ground disappears from below your legs, two arms wrap around your waist and steady you, making sure you don’t get hurt.
Turns out Eric Sohn is there to catch you every time you are about to eat shit. You hate this kind of deja vu.
As you open your eyes (that you had closed on instinct, not wanting to see your own death) once you’re sure you’re safe and sound, the world around you invites itself into your ears in an overwhelming noise. The laughter of Sunwoo’s friends– some hollering at your fall, some at the redness and last remains of snow covering your brother’s face– and the hushed arguments over who’s going down first– with Haknyeon screaming that he’s stealing Sunwoo’s (yours) sled and Juyeon following him. After all those happening in the matter of a few seconds,  you realize you’re left on the top of the hill alone with the male, terror shaking through your insides.
Clearing your throat and taking a step back from him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and avert your gaze from Eric. You two haven’t spoken since you decided to kiss him on New Year’s Eve, and with the awkward tension in the air, you don’t feel like doing so ever again in your whole entire life. 
“Thanks,” still, you hum.
Eric seems a little more light-hearted than you, shrugging as he replies to you. “Haven’t I told you to start watching where you’re going?”
“I’m not good with listening sometimes,” you mutter, huffing. Taking a look around yourself– noticing that there are no sleds left on the top of the hill, therefore, if you wanted to escape the situation, the only way down would be to roll around like a human version of a snowman, you once again admit your defeat, standing around nervously and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.
The silence is uncomfortable. It makes you want to dig a hole in the snow and bury yourself alive, to suffocate under the weight of the icy cold and never see Eric’s face again. You know that you ruined whatever friendship you had with the male– by being stupid and foolish, not really thinking about consequences (because there were supposed to be none and you were supposed to be dead), and the weight of the guilt makes you want to puke and hide away. 
Still, Eric comes out of his way to talk to you. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised– he should be disgusted with you. Realistically, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around.“They’re gonna take long to walk back up,” he notes, “wanna get hot chocolate with me?”
“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with the overwhelming white of the hill.
“Come on,” he sighs, “it’s just around the corner. They built a hot chocolate stand because they knew kids would come sledding here. Honestly, it’s an astute business tactic, but I promise the hot chocolate actually tastes nice,” he says, nudging you slightly with his arm, as if to make you look at him and change your mind.
“Thanks, but no,” you definitely say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.
“Are you avoiding me?” he asks, tone of voice casual– as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if nothing ever happened and he was genuinely curious about the reasoning behind your actions.
“I’m not, I just don’t really like hot chocolate,” you sheepishly mutter, trying hard to avoid the topic.
“So you are avoiding me,” he hums, as if it wasn’t obvious before– and not only because you’re a bad liar. Plus, you love hot chocolate. Somehow, you think Eric knows.
“Look, Eric,” you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “can’t you just drop it?”
“No,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “and that’s why we’re talking about the reason why you’re avoiding me over a cup of hot chocolate. Let’s go.”
His persistence is terribly overwhelming sometimes. You wonder how the male does it. “I already told you-”
“You owe me for the stickers and the meal and everything,” he corners you, and you know you can’t argue with that. He’s kind of right, you suppose– you never paid him back for all the chocolates or for the free meal he brought you that one evening. And that’s exactly why you find yourself sighing as you follow him, mentally preparing yourself for the talk.
You hate how he can always get his way. Walking up to the stand, you crack your knuckles in the pocket of your jacket, nervously coming up with possible arguments to tell him. I didn’t kiss you on purpose, it was an accident. I only did it to know how it feels. We are both supposed to be dead, it’s not my fault the world didn’t end like it was supposed to! Each sentence sounds more stupid than the previous one, and so with that, you shake your head, wiping the thoughts away, smiling at the elderly lady in the stand. You’re just gonna have to be honest, you figure. 
“Two hot chocolates, please.”
Rummaging through your pockets to find your wallet– you do owe Eric, so it’s only natural for you to pay– you’re caught off guard as the male next to you swiftly takes out his own and unzips it, preparing to pay for you. 
“I thought I owed you?” you mumble, hand reaching to tug at his forearm to stop him, to which Eric only grins at you and sighs.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to pay,” he says.
“I think that’s exactly what that means.”
“Just take it,” he huffs as he brings out a note from his wallet, the force making something else fly out and fall to the ground with it, having the boy swiftly crouch down and pick the item up, attempting to hide it before you get a chance to see. And now, you don’t have 20/20 vision, but you recognise your face when you see it– that, and you also recognize the small white sheet to be a polaroid picture, and as far as you’re aware, you’re the only one who has a camera in his circle.
The boy hands you the drink with red-tinted cheeks. The idea of him carrying a picture of you that he took back in September makes you flush as well, and when your gloved fingers accidentally meet as you take the cup from him, he forces out a laugh. “We can talk about that after you tell me why you’re avoiding me.”
His nonchalance has you relaxing only for a few seconds. The boy walks with you as you try to heat up your cold hands on the boiling surface of the cup, and when you see a bench a few meters away from you two, you instinctively take a seat.
“So?” he becomes you, eyebrows rising as he takes a sip from the melted sweetness.
Sighing, you try to come up with the best way to go around this. Do you apologize? Do you promise to never do it again– and you won’t, even though you want to so badly and his lips look surprisingly soft today? Furrowing your brows at the war in your head, you place the cup on the bench next to you and put your head into your hands, hiding away from him when you realize the only way to do this is to be completely, utterly honest.
“I’m just so embarrassed, Eric.”
The only noise meeting your eardrums in the moment is the faint yelling of the crowd sledding in the background, your companion remaining quiet for a bit. When he sees you won’t explain yourself, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Why?”
“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” you sigh, not believing his so casual composure.
“Maybe,” he laughs, the airy sound taking all breath away from your lungs.
Well, not all of it, since you have enough oxygen to go on a tangent, it seems. “Because I kissed you, goddamnit. And- and I don’t even know why I did it, honestly, I’ve never thought of kissing you before! It’s just- when I heard the world is ending, I realized I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, and that just felt like such a miserable way to die, and then you asked what I wanted to do before I die and I couldn’t think of anything else,” you say, progressively taking out your head from your hands and facing the male, big eyes staring into his soul. 
To your surprise, he doesn’t seem mad. Or disgusted. Or any of the reactions you expected, really. Eric stares at you with a soft, but amidst a little star-struck look in his eyes, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of every slight shift in his composure.
“Did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me, or because you thought the world was gonna end?” he asks, awaiting your answer.
And if you’re being honest, 2 days after New Year’s Eve, you do admit the thought of the world actually ending sounds a bit stupid. Why did you even believe that theory? Why did they talk about it so seriously on the news? They tricked you into ruining your own life. 
But still, nothing can be done about it now. “Both,” you admit, shrugging, “I… I kissed you because I really didn’t want to die unkissed, but also… I wanted it to be you, y’know? Like… I thought we were really going to die, and so I thought kissing you might be a nice way to go. I really wanted to spend my last moments with you, I guess,” you sheepishly say, averting your gaze from the male.
Eric offers you his silence again after you’re done explaining. While you do admit you feel a little tense to hear what he has to say, you also realize you feel lighter now that it’s out in the universe and out of your system. A major weight was taken off your shoulders with the confession, and suddenly, you’re kind of glad that your friend was so assertive and insistent on talking about this– who knows how long you’d go before managing to face him. You think you could honestly go on… forever.
Taking a sip of the luscious liquid, you feel your body warm up once the anxiousness slips away from your bones. The boy next to you hums, making you face him with expecting eyes. “Then why were you avoiding me?”
Sighing, you shake your head. “I just told you. I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s bad at listening.”
“No,” he laughs, “that’s still you. Because if you were good at listening, you’d remember me telling you that I’ve never once seen you as my younger sister.”
Shrugging, kicking the pile of snow in front of you with the tip of your winter boots, you’re not quite following. “So?”
“So you should’ve realized that I’m not doing all of this,” he theatrically swings his arms around, “for nothing, you know?”
“All of what?”
“Taking care of you. Feeding you, helping you collect those stupid animal stickers, walking you home…” he mumbles, sighing. “Keeping your picture in my wallet,” he adds with a playful tone, making you smile.
“I thought you were just being a good friend,” you shrug.
“I don’t keep a picture of your brother on me at all times,” he says, tugging off his gloves. The sleeve of his jacket rides up a little as you watch him take his cup of hot chocolate off the bench, surprised (and flooded with warmth) to see the ugly friendship bracelet you made still adorning his wrist.
Grinning to yourself, excitement welcoming itself into the tips of your fingertips, you shrug. “So?” you mirror your own question from a little while ago, wanting him to say it to you instead of relying on your own brain– you think there’s still a possibility of you just being too delusional to see the reality for what it really is. You need to make sure you’re not imagining things.
“So,” he starts, sighing to himself as he turns a little in his seat to face you, “you should stop avoiding me, because I liked the kiss. And you. And we should probably do it again, because I didn’t get the chance to kiss you back the first time,” he says, once again taking all oxygen out of your lungs with the casualty of his preposition.
Locking his eyes with you, having you two staring at each other like two rays of sunshine warming up the cold January, he grins. “How does that sound?”
“Good,” you breathe out, “very good.”
The male takes it as an invitation as he scoots himself closer to you on the bench, his body turning a bit to face you. His free hand cups your cheek, leaning closer to lock his lips with you like he asked you to, your eyes fluttering close at the proximity, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach already expecting to kiss him again. The situation feels a little too idyllic to be real, though– you should’ve expected it to get ruined again.
Something cold and wet comes into contact with the side of your face, and when you sharply open your eyes, you see Eric staring at you with shock and terror in his eyes, the snow dripping down the side of his face as well. Whoever threw the snowball has good aim, you think– managing to target two people at once (even though your faces were that close to each other that it probably wasn’t even that hard), and before you get a chance to look around and see who cut off your kiss, there’s a scream coming from the left side of the two of you, the sound of feet quickly darting in the snow landing into your ears.
“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” the voice hollers, and before you get a chance to react, the said male fastly stands up from the bench and runs to the other direction, laughter resonating all throughout the place as Sunwoo and his friends chase their shortest friend down.
Snow starts falling as you watch your brother tail his childhood friend, and with a foreign sense of warmth, you get reminded of the birthday wish you made while blowing out the candles on your seventh birthday.
You wished for someone just like Eric. You didn’t know the universe would be so kind to give you him instead.
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ohbo-ohno · 9 months
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omgomgomgomggggg u mentioned reader locked in a cage watching her stuffed bear through the bars and my mind immediately started racing. do u think when they have her locked up they sit just outside the bars teasing her with her stuffed bear shaking him around just outside her reach? taunting her and cooing when tears slide down her cheeks😭they throw a blanket over ur cage and leave u there for “puppy’s nap time” i’m actually shaking
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oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my
this is a little long one because both of these concepts have killed me and i lost control of myself
im shaking. hyperventilating. quivering. i am an unrecognizable person after reading these asks.
forced into a cage fucking GETS ME!!! noncon puppy play you will always be famous. both of my noncon/dubcon ghostsoap puppyplay things (say that five times fast) have johnny falling into a type of subspace really quickly so i haven't actually gotten to write a lot of a forced puppy reacting badly and i want to so MUCH!!! might do it with ghostsoap in a follow up to the thing i just posted honestly. it's so fucking delicious
but anyways. in this au the cage you get shoved in isn't johnny's cage, it's one they made for you so you can keep them company during their murderous free time. that means the cage is small, you-sized :( you can't sit up straight in it, can't stretch your legs out the whole way, can't even really kneel straight up. a tiny little space for a tiny little girl oh im going to be SICK
i like the idea of reader having a little nest of her own in their cabin, filled with soft things for her to relax into (and, of course, a hook for them to leash her to) so i feel like her cage in the basement is probably a little ugly. probably no blankets or pillows, shoved in the middle of the room somewhere so there's no place where you can hide (aka press yourself against the wall), leaves you exposed and vulnerable and cold. poor little puppy :( crying and sniffling and begging them not to force you in, but they just chuckle and ruffle your hair a bit, force you to your knees.
all that being said: your little bear johnny and bear simon are in the bad cage with you <3
the stuffy (im calling it a bear but fill in an animal if you'd like) is a total comfort object for you, something that has gone through every bad thing right by your side. when they fuck you, you almost always have the bear in your arms. when they force you to their torture dungeon, the bear is either in your arms or in your eyeline. maybe one of the times they hunt you simon slips the little bear into your arms while johnny is fucking you in the dirt, smirks a little when you thank him and hold it tight to your chest.
if you get really worked up from what they're doing one of them throws an old blanket over your cage. it makes everything so much worse - you can't see anything, you're left alone in this cold dark space, and you can still hear every sound of pain and the tools your kidnappers are using. but for some reason you feel more vulnerable in the dark (like a bird lol) so you go quiet, hunch down real low and squeeze your eyes shut so you can't see the bloodstains on the blanket. simon on johnny think they're helping you cause you don't sound nearly as scared when you can't see anything <3 gives them horrible ideas involving blindfolds but that's another thing
johnny keeping your bear from you. it's like the two of you want me dead. “do you wanna come out now?🥺” “you want your bear??🥺” “are you gonna be a good girl now???🥺🥺” and "teasing her with her stuffed bear shaking him around just outside her reach? taunting her and cooing when tears slide down her cheeks" like im so fucking GONE it's actually not even funny.
you get real puppy-like when they make you beg for your bear. little paws held out, eyes all big and teary, panting and wiggling around cause you want your toy so badly. simon telling you to take the stuffy with your teeth, and you whine because you don't want to bite your bear!!!! but he says johnny and i bite you all the time, puppy, if you can take it so can your bear so you finally lean forward, get a little loose hold on the stuffy's leg where johnny's holds it out
but he's so mean, because he doesn't let it go :( just smiles real big at the sight of you on your knees, little puppy toy between your teeth. go on, he'd say take it, lass. and you try!!! you tug it a little, shake your head a bit, but he won't let go!! he won't give you your bear!!!
until simon tells him to, a gruff that's enough tug o' war, johnny, she's been a good girl. hand it over. and then the stuffy is yours again, finally. you'd tuck it up right in your arms, hold it close to your chest and bury you nose in the soft fur with your eyes squeezed shut. you ignore the little coos from above you, fully throw yourself into loving on your bear
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bedoballoons · 9 months
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OMG I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I SAW MY REQUEST TY!!!
Ok so I have another one, This time it’s Shinobu kocho like reader x anemo characters (including my bb wanderer and albedo) and so basically shinobu is VERY short like 4’11 short, she uses poison to kill demons, she is always smiling Hashira has a cheery attitude even though she’s burning with rage on the inside, she is a doctor (technically) and her katana only the tip is blade because all she needs to do is stab her opponent to get poison injected into them, and she is also technically a alchemist. I’m sooo sorry if this is too much you don’t have to do all of it!!
fun fact: I only have one eye 👁
IM SO GLAD!! I love Albedo and the anemos so much oh my gosh!! Again this was a blast to write and I hope you enjoy!!
Also that's extremely cool! You totally don't have to answer but I'm just insanely curious...why do you only have one eye? 👀
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
{༻~Shinobu Kocho like reader!~༺}
CW: Mentions of fighting, reader with rage on the inside and slight teasing for being short, overall just super fluffy! Xiaos is a whole oneshot because it was super intense to write!
(Includes: Albedo, Xiao, Kazuha, Heizou, Venti, and Wanderer!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Albedo:
Albedo glanced in your direction and instantly became mesmerised by you, your hair clipped up in your butterfly clip to keep the strands out of your face while you worked away concocting the next deadliest poison. To anyone else you'd most likely look like just another alchemist at work, but in his eyes, you were the most beautiful when you were experimenting. Especially when you were so deep into your discovery like you were currently, your attention completely focused on your potions, making you completely unaware of just how much he was unable to take his eyes off you.
Eventually he looked away, his face slightly pink as he went back to his own studies, only now he couldn't concentrate, his eyes drifting to you ever so often.
𑁍༄Xiao:
You knew Xiao could take on almost any beasts the world threw at him, but that didn't mean he had to do it all alone, especially when he was incredibly out numbered and injured from a previous fight. "Xiao! Stay back, let me finish the battle for you!" You shouted jumping in front of him as more hilichurls crowded around you both, swinging weapons of fire and shooting arrows in every direction, one wrong move and it could all be over in seconds.
"I can handle myself, you should be the one staying back!" He swung his spear, the blades slashing through the air as he sent another beast flying, no matter what he'd make sure you left alive...even if he couldn't join you in the end. "Always so stubborn." You muttered, as you went to work, your movements quick and thought out, the top of your blade sinking into hilichurl after hilichurl, poison draining them of their life force before they could even defend themselves.
You and Xiao fought side by side while your opponents numbers steadily decreased, his injury slowing him down as the seconds ticked by and your own body loosing its momentum as exhaustion took its place. Just as the battle began to reach its end, the walls around you began to shake, their once sturdy foundation now crumbling from the heavy burden of filling in for a arena. "Xiao! The place is going to collapse!" You screamed for him, but you couldn't see where he was, your eyes searching for him frantically.
Then suddenly arms wrapped around you, the battleground fading away while he teleported you just outside of the building, using the last of his strength. "Are you, alright?" He asked falling to his knees, making your mind cloud with worry as you kneeled beside him. "I'm fine...are you?"
"I'll be okay. Don't worry."
𑁍༄Kazuha:
You looked at the butterflies surrounding you, their bright purple and blue hues standing out against the rising sun, while the wind flowed softly, carrying them to their next destination. "You remind me of them, the beauty of a butterfly and the gentleness they bring as they flutter by, but unlike them, you have burning rage on the inside and I don't think you truly know how to handle it." Kazuha sat next to you, his eyes never leaving you as he spoke what had been on his mind for some time now...the things that made him worry everytime you two weren't together.
Your cheeks felt warm, partially from his compliments, but also from the slight embarrassment of just how well he knew you and how right he was about your situation, you didn't know how to handle the anger and every day you got closer and closer to loosing any control you had. "I don't..know how to...to help myself." You whispered, you sounded so weak in that moment and you wondered if he'd look down on you for that, but of course he wouldn't.
He put his arm around you as you leaned your head on his shoulder, the cold morning air making you snuggle up to him as the two of you watched the sunrise. He'd do anything to help you, especially because you didn't know how to help yourself...
𑁍༄Heizou:
Heizou held your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours as the two of you walked along the soft shore, sharing a stick of fresh sweet dango and talking about the most recent mystery he'd been investigating, one that just so happened to involve you. "And you're sure you had nothing to do with the toxic flowers going missing? You could tell me you know, just because I'm a detective doesn't mean I'll arrest you right away." He attempted, his sweet smirk and charm almost enough to make you share your little secret, but you simply couldn't.
"Heizou, I have nothing to do with those flowers disappearing and even if I did, you know you don't have enough evidence to actually put me at the scene, the only way you'd have enough grounds to take me in, is if I confessed. And we both know I wouldn't do that..." You smiled sweetly at him, placing a kiss on his cheek as he chuckled in defeat. "One day I'll catch you for your crimes."
"How about you just catch me in general?"
𑁍༄Venti:
You danced around happily, your hair slipping out of its clip as your jacket flowed around you with every movement, your smile bright while you hummed the words to the song that was playing. It wasn't often you got to be like this, free to have fun and dance without a care in the world, and you owed it all to the musician himself, the one you held so dear to your heart after just a few outings with him.
You couldn't really explain it, but he had a sense of wonder that you couldn't get enough of and as the song came to a end you hurried up to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug while he laughed happily. "Venti your performance was incredible! I loved it so much!!" You couldn't contain your excitement, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek as they turned a light shade of pink, "Awe thank you, honestly seeing you dancing brought me alot of inspiration, I wanted to match the joy you were giving off and sing the words with as much enthusiasm as your movements held."
Your face instantly went red, you'd inspired him...
𑁍༄Wanderer:
"...you can't reach it can you." Wanderer watched in amusement as you attempted to stand on a chair to get something out of the top cupboard, but to no avail, you just weren't tall enough. "Shhhh, how is it I could kill multiple enemies at once with only the tip of my blade, but my height is enough to stop me from reaching the sugar?" You sighed in defeat, slowly climbing down and putting the chair back in its rightful place at the table.
"You just have to find a poison that makes you taller." He chuckled teasingly as you shot him a playful glare, "Actually...I don't think I need to. Wanderer, oh please, please can you, my hero, get me the sugar....I will forever be indebted to you!" The amount of sarcasm in your voice made him roll his eyes and yet, you calling him your hero...still made him feel good, he kinda liked being someone's hero, even if it was for something silly like this.
"Alright alright, I'll get it shorty." He smirked at you the entire time, even though he had to use a chair as well and when he handed you the sugar, you could tell he was absolutely filled with pride. "Thank you my hero!"
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧
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otter-pup · 1 year
Note
Once this tentacle is done laying, it pulls out and the egg closest to your cervix once more pressing down on your cervix. Though, oddly, it doesn't pull away. With the help of the other tentacle and smaller ones, back down to the floor. Almost as if they know that there's a high chance you won't be able to lay these eggs.
Still, with the help from the larger tentacle, the smaller tentacle and it wrap around your belly and squeeze. The eggs inside your inflated womb jostle around and move, some more even pressing down against the egg against your cervix, but it still doesn't budge. Not even an inch of it makes its way through your cervix.
It's some time later that the tentacles finally relent. It's obvious to them now; you're reached the point where the eggs have gotten so large you can't lay them. So they pull away and take to making you as comfortable as possible. The tentacles on the ground keep you propped up and your legs spread wide. Even if you won't be laying eggs, in the rare chance one does slip out, none of the tentacles want it becoming stuck in your cunt.
The tentacles take to periodically messing with your outrageously enormous belly. Pushing it from side to side, jostling the eggs even more. Or sometimes simply just pushing down with loads of pressure in an attempt to get even a single egg out. But not one egg manages to push past your cervix.
It's about a week later, maybe more, that you can feel movement in your belly. The tentacles outside of you react immediately crowding around your body and waiting for something. Eventually, the small outline of a tentacle presses against the skin of your belly before disappearing. The tentacle that's stuck with you the longest begins to stroke your belly, eliciting more movement.
The eggs are hatching, little eggslut. Are you excited?
🐺
im massive, once again, with this tentacles eggs, swollen bigger than should be humanly possible. i feel the first egg press against my cervix, and immediately, im sure this is it—my first unlayable clutch.
i cry out as the tentacles press down on my stomach, the egg pressing against my cervix harder, causing burning pain while barely any of it manages to slip through. i gasp every time they adjust, before going right back to crying and screaming while they try to force the first too-big egg out.
it’s a relief when they finally stop, making sure I’m comfortable and keeping my legs spread. im asleep in minutes, exhausted from the stress the failed laying had put on my body.
im always awoken to pleasure, at least one of the tentacles rubbing at my sensitive, swollen belly and making me moan. they aren’t even as intense when they push down on it to try and get me to lay—the pressure is just as much as before, but they relent much quicker.
the number of eggs in my belly stops me from noticing anything different at first—i assume the eggs are just shifting after the tentacles had been jostling my belly. but eventually, i realize it’s movement, something changing, as the tentacles gather around me.
im watching, too, and able to see for myself when the first tentacle presses against my skin from inside—a weird, but good feeling. the big tentacle wrapped around me is immediately touching my belly, and I keep watching as more and more outlines of tentacles bulge my stomach.
i loved being big for so long, but I’m excited to finally get these ones out—it means I can finally get even bigger.
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drdemonprince · 23 days
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how did you know that seeking institutional help was the right step to take?
For four years I was always in high levels of care. When I transitioned out of that, I was a "revolving door patient" to ip units living with a carer the rest of the time. I sometimes self-harmed or did other actions intentionally to get hospitalized during that time. I'm going to focus on mostly that because I don't want to get into the weeds of how different psych treatment programs are categorized and run.
I would say that my goal of being hospitalized usually was to change something in my outpatient life - let my therapist know I wasn't willing to do something, get my companions to let me go for walks alone, whatever. I'd get hospitalized or call the cops on myself or send scary texts to my therapist and then try to end my life, eventually being stopped. I didn't want to die, but if I could prove to them I was willing to, they'd listen.
Another person mentioned a desire for closeness+physical touch, and that was a huge part of it for me. i even got restrained sometimes just because I wanted any touch, which is something commonly heard from incarcerated people. I had certain nurses and other staff who I saw as my family, calling my therapist "dad" and interacting in a needy, childlike way with floor staff.
I also liked how much it pared down my life. I was in college at the time, and found the social habits of the other students confusing and overwhelming, so I'd get hospitalized to miss class.
what helped you trust the professionals or the institution enough for it to be beneficial to you?
i wouldn't say I trust any of the institutions, but some staff earned my trust. I was a scary mean noncompliant patient so the few who actually bothered to get to know me were usually moments away from some kind of burnout where they realized all this shit sucks.
One of the things they did that earned my trust was to share about their own mental health or addiction history. This is encouraged in sud places, but usually VERY discouraged in psych units, moreso the higher level of care it is.
Another big thing was to allow me to break rules or break them themselves. My ex-therapist used to meet with me for extra time, give me my DVD player when I wasn't allowed, etc. and it felt like he saw me as equal. Turns out he sucks. but. during the time he was treating me he definitely helped me a lot with my thinking patterns, so the trust still ended up benefiting me, even if the relationship didn't always. He also talked A LOT about his family and life outside of work, and showed me pictures, and I even met his dog once.
for me this is an example of why therapists are kind of. not great? because he earned my trust enough to help me, I was at his defense. I felt like not getting better was something I was "doing to him", and his displays of sadness (once something I'd considered a positive aspect of his self disclosure) became a way to manipulate me into the hospital when I didn't want to go, without having to resort to force or law. i agreed with the assertion of psychology that he knew me better than I know myself, and gave every part of my personality, personhood, to the medical model.
so yes it helped as in now when I'm suicidal or about to bpd-style destroy my every relationship I think "play the tape forward what happens next" and don't. which is lame bc it means most of the people who treated me get to leave patting themselves on the back about how well im doing now.
which kinds of institutions have been *less* traumatic than the others?
A few times I got to live in supportive group home style places, and those are kind of nice! It was cool to be in a place surrounded by other mentally ill people. Much less lonely. In general, places that let you outside independently, let you access food independently (e.g. no staff in the kitchen), and let you keep some secrets from staff are the best. My quality of life was 100% better when all the program heads knew we were vaping in our rooms but just let it happen unless someone started setting off alarms. Ditto with like, being able to stay up late on Devices.
Having that independence, a place for my sense of self other than being a patient, was sooo sooo helpful.
is it sometimes worth simply not being able to act on the ideation, even if it means putting up with lots of institutional bullshit?
I didn't find the hospital particularly good at getting me to not act, instead they just prevented the worst consequences. All three hundred stitches I got for self-harm were while I was institutionalized. But like, my nerve damage is less than it could've been. I am not sure how to evaluate if that's better than having just died, because I have no idea how much the institution itself caused self-harm and suicidality.
all things being equal, would it always be better to be able to stay at a friend's house instead?
yes
if you could get 24-7 company from a loved one, would that be better?
yes. however. i think it would be good if people had some information about how to talk to suicidal people. like... i forget the training. but its similar to what they teach helpline volunteers. thats its ok to say suicide. to ask if they have a plan. to ask if theyd be willing to get rid of the means. etc.
SORRY IF THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE TO READ
this is a wealth of information, thank you!
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ieggthots · 10 months
Note
Hihi u did an awesome job on the Caitlin x reader 🤘
Can I request vi x (gn) undercity reader: vi thought they died in the big kaboom (time skip) she finds them working with ekko but with robot arms or legs or both you can decide, she had a major crush on them sooo sad to fluff
Thank you! I hope you like the oneshot!
☆Vi x reader who's presumed dead from the big kaboom☆
"You haven't changed little man", Vi said as she brought Ekko into an embrace, he softened and returned the hug. It stayed like this for a few more seconds until he pulled away and said, "let's go untie your enforcer friend, then I have someone who you might want to see". Vi perked up and followed Ekko back to where Caitlyn was tied up. She was thrashing around, like an animal in a cage trying to get out. "Let me go! I didn't do anything to you!" She yelled, thinking she was yelling out to no one until the bag was lifted off of her head.
"Hey cupcake." Vi said as she smirked and leaned against the pole Caitlyn was tied to. "What?! I thought they were hurting you!", Vi flipped her hair around "My hero".
Ekko shifted and coughed to grab attention from the women. "Vi, if your done taunting now then I can show you who I wanted to show you." He said as he walked out the door, Vi and Caitlyn trailed behind soon after. "What do you mean Ekko? Who could I possibly want to see?" She questioned. "You'll see, don't worry."
He led the women outside to a mural where someone was painting, it seemed to be a mural to... Vi and her family.
"Vi, is that... you?" "Yes, that's me, my sister Powder, and our family, well adoptive family." Caitlyn marveled at the mural on the wall in front of her.
"F/N, I have someone here who I think you would want to see." Said person perked up at the name, "F/N??" Vi said with surprise. You turned your head, a paintbrush in your prosthetic hand and a shock on your face.
"Vi? I, I thought you died!" "I thought you died F/N, I haven't seen you in almost a decade." Vi walks up to you and grasps your hands, looking down at your metal prosthetic arm. You notice she sees this and you say, "That happened when Powder's monkey bomb went off, the force from it blew my arm off when I shielded myself from the blast."
Vi looked down with a frown before she looked back up your eyes with adoration before she said, "As long as I am here, nothing will happen to you" She rubbed the back of your non prosthetic hand.
"You promise?" You say with tears starting to well up as your faces inch closer.
"Yes, I promise." She connects her lips to your in a kiss full of her feelings she's had for you for years, that she's finally able to display. Ekko and Caitlyn watch as they give you two your moment, not wanting to ruin it.
(IM SORRY THIS TOOL SO LONG HOLY SHIT IVE BEEN BUSY WITH SCHOOL AND IRL STUFF IM SO SORRY 😭😭. Tumblr is my most neglected app, I literally never update and I genuinely apologize for that.)
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actualbird · 11 months
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you probably already saw this in ur notifs but i have been OBSESSED with everything tot you've posted ever since my tot obsession came back. like. OH MAN I VIBE WITH YOU. YOUR IDEAS AND DISCUSSION OF CHARACTERS. CHEFS KISS. poly ot5 is my everything especially bcs it gets DEEP into every one of them :D
and i was thinking about mc's parents meeting nxx. in a scenario where maybe, they need researchers and for some reason or whatever they need someone personal, who they can fully trust including maybe some nxx stuff.
luke looks at mc. mc looks at luke.
well, if marius von hagen needed them. surely they'd be allowed to leave the program maybe temporarily.
and that's how vyn, artem, and marius have their internal parental issues brought out in full force at the sight of mc and luke with mc's parents. like they're just coddling them in the Parent way and they're both enjoying it as a Son and Daughter would. and those three are just like Oh. Wow. That Looks Nice.
artem has both parents but like based on how he's lonely as a kid i know these sorts of interactions were surely few and far between. he would Not be so emotionally repressed. marius has a loving dad but a dead mom who people blame him for and austin has said himself that he Represses. like marius. and vyn? Disastrous. yeah they would be having a Moment with that sort of scenario
and the Moments they will be having when the parenting goes to them too. because i think mc's parents are the type to parent their kid's friends too. they see these sad boys and think. Adopted.
SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG ASJJFKWKS it's just given me a lot of Thoughts.
hello hello, and HAHA YEAH i did see in my notifs a lot these past few days!! im so so glad you enjoy my tot stuff, i was particularly surprised that u even managed to get to me super early posts. it makes me rlly happy to see even those still enjoyable now ;w;
also pls this idea is lovely, has such fertile environment for BIG FEELS!!!!
i rlly wish we knew more about mc’s parents in canon. like i understand that theyve been yeeted into the void for narrative/player-insert-ambiguity purposes buT I HAVE A GREAT NEED!! TO SEE THEM COME BACK!!! ALL THE INTERACTIONS WLD BE LOVELY
and gosh yeah jkvkjHVJAHFKS 3 SAD BOIS R IN GREAT NEED FOR SOME FAMILIAL LOVE!! it makes me really emotional thinking about how artem, vyn, and marius have less than stellar parent-relationships for all the reasons u mention. it’s either absence, neglect, or something else altogether that just resulted in a childhood where their parents couldve been better. they werent the worst parents in the world, but they all couldve been better.
(sidenote: “and vyn? Disastrous” THATS SUCH A FUNNBY ONE-LINER FOR HIS PARENT SITUATION AKJFHVSOFAISLVALIUBA)
im So For mc’s parents vaguely becoming pseudo-parents to the other three. i mean, they already did that with luke, whats 3 more neurotic grown men?
(sidenote 2: i joke sometimes that luke is unintentionally very good at collecting father figures. aaron, that Bar L owner, a bunch of mentioned NSB seniors he worked under. people see luke and go “wow is anybody gonna son-ify that young man” and then they dont wait for an answer, they just go for it)
itd be sweet and also entertaining if mc’s parents invited them all to a dinner. i mean, the nxx boys are the people she hangs around The Most so it’s basically like meeting her friend group! her….really weird and varied friend group who REALLY want to make a good impression.
[outside of mc’s apartment, artem, marius, and vyn stall on ringing the door buzzer]
marius: ok so before we go in, i wanna ask…….what gifts did u get her parents?
vyn: this better not be a way for you to flaunt your gift
marius: it isnt! im genuinely curious!! and also hoping i’ll be less nervous if i know what you guys brought!!!
artem: i bought a kitchen knife set and sharpened them myself
vyn: i purchased the best bottle of wine i could
marius: …cool. cool cool cool cool those are lovely and reasonable gifts and now im realizing i should uh. tone mine down.
artem: huh?
vyn: what on earth did you get?
marius: it’s fine, dont worry about it, im getting vincent to drive it away right now
vyn: WHAT
luke, phasing into existence behind them without a sound: so are you three thinking of going inside any time this century?
artem, marius, vyn: AAHH
itll totally be a fun dinner all together HAHAHKJAVFKJHAS
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rowretro · 5 months
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✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧
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WARNINGS: mentions of dismemberment
✧tag list✧:@chlorinecake @nikisdubblchococake @enhypensccstarlight @strwberrydinosaur @sunghoonsbeautymark @strawbsj  (pls tell me if im missing any tags)
✧CHAPTER 12✧
Another cold morning in Paris, Sunghoon Juwngwon and the others were arriving on the day, With Riki on the phone with the boys, who’s flight had been delayed, Kyle whined, wanting Riki’s attention. Riki smiled down at the baby, ruffling his hair. “Delayed again? Do you need my private jet?” Riki asked on call as the boy pouted. All the while, Heeseung and Sunoo were focused on wedding decoration. The 2 wanted to have a nice wedding outside, under the stars, with just the ones whom they love, and those who worked at their cafe.
Y/n was peacefully stirring some batter for their wedding cake, “Ok Ok call me when you get here hmm? Take care” Riki finally said before hanging up. The male unstrapped the baby from his baby chair, carrying him in his arms “Ok baby you can have me all to yourself now~” The boy cooed, as he rocked him gently. Kyle giggles, snuggling into Riki’s chest. The man carried him to the kitchen, where y/n was cooking. 
The baby got distracted with the many holes in the jumper Riki was wearing on top of his t-shirt. “You sure  you want to be making the cake for our wedding baby? I mean you work too much already, can’t you at least take a little break before the wedding?” Riki asked as y/n smiled. “It’s ok babe, I love busying myself you know?” The girl said, smiling. Riki leaned down to kiss her forehead, the baby still infatuated with all the holes in Riki’s jumper.
The truth was, y/n was pretty stressed about the wedding, she felt that Riki had to leave behind so many things for her and the baby. All those times he stood up against his dad for her, his patience, how much he tries not to argue, and the fact that he’s never once thought of leaving her. Sure they hit a rocky road near the start of their dating, but those little conflicts make them the happy, weird couple they are. For all he’s done, the girl just wants everything to go perfectly for him.
“Mommy and daddy are getting married~” Riki cooed as the baby giggled, pulling on his jumper. “Oh so that’s why you were so quiet all this time… you like my jumper?” The male asked as the baby babbled nonsense, playing with the loose strings around the holes. “Daddy will get you a matchy jumper like mine~” Riki cooed, rubbing his nose against the baby’s nose. “Sunnyyyy uncee bambi!” The baby suddenly squealed.
“Uncle Bambi? Seriously that nickname is sticking for generations yet to come???” Heeseung said sighing as th baby giggled, reaching for him. Heeseung gently carried him, snickering at the baby’s acts. “Ah y/n I got you a little present, well- Heeseung chose it, but it’s cute so I bought it-” Sunoo said as he gave her a Hello Kitty plush doll. The girl froze as she forced a smile, shakily taking the doll in hand. “Wow… thanks Sunoo- and Heeseung-” She said, her voice somewhat shaky.
Riki blinked at her sudden change in behavior but let her be, not wanting to tick her off or anything. The girl put the doll somewhere in their room as she went back to mixing cake batter. As she poured the batter into one of the trays, she suddenly screamed, dropping the batter on the ground. Riki rushed over as soon as he could, assuming the worst. “Babe, are you ok? Hurt? DID THEY FIND US?!” the male asked as she blinked. “U-UH noim fine-- just uh… flinched seeing the doll there-” the girl said, pointing at the hello kitty doll.
“God I thought something really bad happened for a second…” Riki mumbled, back hugging her, his eyes falling on the batter that was all over the floor and counter now. Riki turned her around so she was facing him, gently pinning her against the nearest surface oh so gently. His eyes, examining hers as he leaned in a little closer, noticing her back away a little “Tell me whats wrong.” The boy simply said “Nothing-” the girl said as Riki tilted his eyes, his stare way more intense “F-Fine- I just found it creepy that the doll I put in my room suddenly appeared here-” The girl said.
Riki sighed, narrowing his eyes at her “Now tell me what’s really wrong.” He asked, his forehead, resting against hers as she sighed “Fine… I studied a case that involved a dismembered head being inside a hello kitty doll, and its a traumatizing case you know?... the person who owned it was a 14 yr old, she new there was a human head inside!” The girl finally admitted as Riki kissed her lips, “You need to chill” Riki said as he squished the perfectly cute, pink plushie “see? Perfect, clean, smells new and trust me, no head inside.” Riki said as the girl snuggled him, the male almost slipped on the batter. “How about we romance after we clean this up hmm?” The male asked as the girl snickerred, nodding. 
✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧
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shenji-yei · 1 month
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I’m wearing less and less makeup recently. I’m only doing it for Irish dance competitions to match my costume (it’s usually the most conventionally acceptable makeup, you know, brow shapes, eyeliners, mascara etc.) and for family dinners during some kind of holidays like New Year or someone’s birthday, but for latter ones I’m usually making it as extravagant as possible, like, goth one, patterns on my face, drawings, weird look and hairstyle (basically keeping my “family freak” persona).
when I’m hearing that someone does “makeup for themselves” I’m usually confused. Like girl why is your “for myself” makeup is the same smoky eyes, lipstick shade, brow contour and mascara? You kidding me? We girls saying “it’s for myself” and doing the exact same shapes of eyeliner and eye shadows. I could’ve understand it if we were painting flowers on our face. shaving eyebrows or leaving them blonde or ginger as our natural color. I could’ve understand if we were using our face as a canvas to create, not as a mask to make it acceptable by norms.
and moreover, about all this “makeup for myself” thing… I have a ton of makeup in my house left from my 14-18 age period, but hell… even If I want to express myself, the LAST thing I would do to express my todays mood is makeup. It’s uncomfy. It’s always feeling like a dirt or stain on my face. I want to wipe it off. Even if I will draw something extraordinary in my face I will get tired of it like instantly. I remember in last school grades and in the first college years I was wearing like eyeshadow to make my eyes look more tired and my lips look paler, yeah, I loved looking like a corpse, it wasn’t something conventionally acceptable AT ALL, but still.. it was a makeup. It was a dust and paint on my face. And I was constantly tired, stressed and burnt out, I rubbed my eyes and washed my face at lunch breaks with cold water to stay awake. I loved being “goth and freaky” but still makeup was so uncomfortable, even when I was wearing it “for myself”.
Wearing makeup, even freaky one, requires rules and patience… and im so used to freedom I gained, so I can’t even force myself to draw something “just for fun”. I mean, I think makeup is the last thing that could express you. Clothes, hair, jewelry - please, im ready. It’s not that hard for me to wear that oriental dress and put on some massive jewelry. But makeup… oh my, it’s so messy. It’s so annoying. Even if I sincerely want to draw some lines on my face like a warriors coloring, it’s so uneasy. Idk, but when I gained the possibility to do makeup “for myself”, like really, for myself… I don’t do that. Maybe im just not a makeup person, I don’t know. Please tell me about your experiences with liberation from makeup.
photos below: doing conventionally acceptable makeup for competitions & shows, doing freaky makeup for myself from time to time (this one is quite old), not doing makeup at all.
I’m sharing because… It’s hard to believe but now, years later, I can finally go outside with no makeup at all… sometimes when I meet someone I feel uneasy because of my “unprepared look”… but I feel so free not waking up early every day and not spending so much time to paint my face. I feel so free blinking, breathing, washing and touching my face. It’s so cool to fall asleep without worrying to have something on your eyes and skin. It’s so cool to get under the rain. It’s so cool that my face can smile, eat and laugh.
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