#basically my step mom has been questioning my moms parenting around my sisters and being slightly homophobic saying it wasn’t age app for us

[abby420]

there is no greater alliance than an eldest daughter and her mom

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Hi!! How are you? It's my first time requesting so I'm not sure if I'm doing this correctly. I just had an idea of adopted!reader being like Komi ( she's from an anime, basically she has a like an extreme social anxiety where she doesn't speak and she just straight up freezes when someone tries to talk to her ) her adopted parents / wandanat brings and introduces her to the team and they're confused of why she's not speaking.

Have a fantastic day / night! Xoxo .

She can’t communicate

Summary: May cause fear and anxiety.

Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader

Warnings: panic attackish

Word count: 1191

a/n: I actually started watching Komi can’t communicate a while back!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Wanda is holding Y/N’s hand as the two of them, and Natasha, wait for the elevator in the Avengers Tower’s lobby. “Are you excited, honey?” She squeezes Y/N’s hand, glancing down at her with a smile.

The teen nods, keeping her eyes on the numbers on top of the elevator.

She isn’t necessarily excited, but she isn’t displeased by it either. She has wanted to meet her parents’ families for a while now, but there has always been a question whether or not she is capable of meeting them.

Natasha and Wanda are used to Y/N’s nonverbal answers by now. She didn’t talk to them at all for the first few weeks, which made them worried something was wrong, but soon enough they figured out that the girl is just incredibly nervous around people. Nowadays she is comfortable enough to talk to them, though the two adults are still more talkative compared to her.

The elevator lets out a ding once it reaches the ground floor, its doors opening.

The trio steps inside and Natasha presses the button for the right floor. “We made sure that only few team members are there, okay?” She moves to Y/N’s other side, setting her hand onto her shoulder.

Y/N looks up at her mom, giving her a small smile. A lot of people in her life, before getting adopted by Natasha and Wanda, thought her minimal expressions were rude. But the two ex-Avengers never faulted her for them, they’ve always known she’s still being genuine.

As the elevator goes up the floors, the nerves in Y/N start to rise. She tightens her hold on Wanda’s hand, the feel of it bringing her some sense of comfort.

The ride to the 91st floor is over fairly quick.

The elevator doors open once again, the quiet chatter of the few team members present audible though they are not yet visible.

The trio walk out of the elevator, Y/N’s steps slightly slower now that the presence of unknown people is clear. She stays close to Wanda as they walk towards the living room, practically glued to her side.

“Hi everyone.” Kate, Steve, and Pietro turn to look at the three of them when Wanda speaks. “This is Y/N,” she brings her forward, “our daughter. And these are some of our teammates.” She glances at Y/N as she gestures at the three Avengers on the couches, naming them all individually.

Y/N doesn’t look at them directly, rather having her gaze on the back of one of the couches. Her body is tense, she can feel all of them staring at her.

“Just a teammate?” Pietro scoffs, standing up with a grin. “I’m her uncle, sister, give some respect to my title.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, that’s your uncle Pietro.” She mumbles to Y/N, standing behind her with her hands on her shoulders.

The playful annoyance in her mother’s voice makes a small smile appear on Y/N’s face. However, it quickly disappears when the attention completely shifts to her.

“How old are you, kid?”

Though Steve’s voice is calm—a reason why Wanda and Natasha wanted him to be one of the first ones to meet her—Y/N still felt incredibly anxious. She continues staring at the couch, her hands fidgeting behind her back as she stays quiet.

“She’s 14.” Natasha speaks up soon after, knowing her daughter wouldn’t be speaking.

Steve glances at Natasha, nodding with a small smile. "So, how is school then? What grade are you in?"

"Can you be any more of an old man." Kate mumbles, snickering with Pietro. "What movie do you like? Or are you more into series?"

"Do you like video games? Me, Kate, and you could play some mario Kart." Pietro joins to the questioning.

Y/N's eyes widen as she listens to the onslaught of questions from her mothers' teammates. Her heart starts hammering in her chest, the thumping of it almost deafening in her ears. She starts breathing heavier, faster, deperately trying to reign it in, she doesn't want these people to see her like that. She tries to open your mouth to answer, to answer at least one of the questions, but it's almost like her body is frozen.

"She likes both, current favorite is...Fallout series, if I remember correctly." Wanda answers, her voice muffled in Y/N's ears. "Video games too, she actually got us both into Stardew Valley." She laughs, bumping her shoulder gently against Natasha's.

"Sister, please." Pietro groans, stepping closer to the three of them, his eyes on Y/N. "Let the kid answer some of the questions too. What else do you like to do?"

Her hands start to tremble at the attention on her, a cold sweat starting to appear on her skin. Y/N clears her throat, though she isn't sure if any sounds even leaves her. She feels her mind going further and further away, her thoughts not making sense anymore. She swallows onece, twice, her throat starts to feel smaller.

"Would you give us a moment." She can hear Natasha's muffled voice as a hand takes hold of her arm, pulling her into the corridor and away from the people. She can see the mix of worry and confusion in the other teammates' faces at a glance.

Natasha and Wanda pull their daughter into their old bedroom, gently pushing her to sit on the bed. "Sweetheart," the latter whispers, "you are okay. Take some deep breaths for me." Shaky breaths leave Y/N's mouth. She holds onto Wanda's hand tightly while leaning against Natasha, their proximity bringing her comfort.

It takes her a while, but she manages to calm herself down before a full blown panic attack happens.

"You're okay, nothing's going to get you." Natasha whispers, her hand rubbing Y/N's back. "We can stay here, just the three of us. There's no hurry to go back or meet anyone else."

Y/N leans her head against Natasha's shoulder. Wanda taps her chin softly, making her move her gaze to her face. "You did so well in there, you hear me? Don't let this pull you down, my darling."

Although, she doesn't fully believe her mother's words, Y/N nods and musters up a tiny smile for her. A sense of disappointment does fill her for being unable to talk to the people her mothers are close to, but she tries to remember their words. It's not her fault, and every social interaction is a victory, no matter how small.

"How about we stay the night here, yeah?" Natasha wraps one arm around Y/N and the other grabs Wanda's arm, pulling them both down to lie down on the bed. "We'll stay here all night and only go out when we need to eat."

Wanda laughs as she gets pulled on top of Natasha. "Sounds wonderful, baby."

A small smile grows on Y/N's face as she listens to her mothers laugh. She cuddles up to them, happy to stay in the Avengers Tower as long as they stay in the bedroom.

[tothebestofmyabilities]

@seemoreseymoursbay day 3! OC day

So in the episode 'Bad Tina' Zeke mentions that his dads girlfriend just had a baby, assuming that the dads gf he talks about in early seasons is Cheryl his step mom and that the father of that baby is Zekes dad we can also assume that Zeke has a very young half sibling. And I did go ahead and assume all those things so this is Zekes baby sister Cherish (Cherry for short).

Used the prompt wonder wharf

Im gonna talk some more about her under the cut bc im sure that will devolve into infodumping zeke lore/headcanons and i dont want anyone to get stuck scrolling past a wall of text

Interestingly she's the only oc i have that's part of a different piece of media rather than one of my own projects.

She's a spunky little toddler for sure she's always got tons of energy, she's extremely confident and fearless constantly running off when she sees something that excites her or to ask strangers questions. She has a big sweet tooth but also loves spicy foods, off the top of my head I don't think its been discussed in canon where Zeke is from originally but recently I've been thinking of him and his bio mom as being from louisiana (projection on my part my mom is from louisiana and bc I like Zeke as a chef and the food there is soo good) I love the idea that his mom taught him to cook the local dishes and that he makes them for Cherry. She dresses in a chaotic mix of her own love of bright, clashing rainbow colors and dingey hand-me-downs from Zekes childhood and from their other cousins. I definitely think Zeke has adhd and Cherry does as well.

I tend to draw her/think of her around age 2 1/2- 3 (so when zeke is 16ish) but in canon time she'd still be a newborn. I love the idea of Zeke with a young sibling he's portrayed in the show as being super caring, protective of and loyal to the people be cares about, and good with younger kids all of which read as big brother qualities to me and he's also mentioned wanting siblings hes closer too. (He mentioned having a 44 year old brother in Presto Tina-o but also has said his bio mom was pregnant with him at her prom which is probably just a continuity error with his throway lines but taken at face value makes his dad out to be a gross old creep which is my personal headcanon idk if there's anyone out there who are big fans of Zeke's dad and step mom but my headcanons do not paint them in a nice light so beware of that)

Based on pretty much everything Zeke has ever said about his family I get the impression that the adults in his life are pretty neglectful and irresponsible and definitely not super present (he rarely ever speaks about his dad I hc him having a job that keeps him away from the family most of the time probably something like trucking and Zeke has mentioned Cheryl being an alcoholic I also hc her as much younger than the dad maybe she's a bartender? I definitely see her having a nightlife kind of job also for reference picture her as a redhead with blue eyes and a lot of tattoos that's where cherry gets her eyes and freckles)

I believe with Cherry a lot of parenting responsibilities would be placed on Zeke and while i think he has qualities that are really well suited to that the parentification of an older sibling is not ok and would negatively impact him, I like the idea of him applying for a job at Bob's Burgers bc he needs a more stable way to provide financially than doing odd jobs around town and not only getting a job but also getting a support system and adults who care about him and his sister and their wellbeing. I think Bob would take Zeke under his wing and help him make himself and his education a priority (the belchers helping out with Cherry when they can so he can focus more on school and extra curriculars) and help him get into a culinary school after graduation. Linda would fall completely in love with her (we know how much she loves babies) and basically treat Cherry like she's her own grandbaby. They all babysit her when needed but Louise is her favorite babysitter and maybe person also she really looks up to Louise and likes to imitate her fashion style and the way she speaks, Louise would pretend that this annoys her but not so secretly finds it adorable.

Anyways clearly i could go on and on but ill just cut myself off there hope y'all like her!

[waitmyturtles]

Oh my EFF, where DO I START. Moonlight Chicken, episode 7 thoughts and impressions. But first, a question for the family:

Did any of you notice the filming style slightly change during the condo/living room scene with Jim and Wen (after Jim put on the chicken shirt), and the second scene with Jam and Li Ming, when they’re eating the ginger stir-fry? In both scenes, I noticed that the camera pans were a bit more fast/jerky between characters, and that Jim and Jam (#jimjam) were filmed from the chest up. I wish I knew more about cinematography, but it seemed to me that the other shots throughout the show were wider and taller. I don’t know if this means anything to anyone, but if it does, I would love to hear thoughts on it. I feel like the shooting style gave those scenes some kind of different old-school flavor. 

1) JUST GAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH WHY IS THIS SHOW SO GOOD. Sorry for the yelling, but now I know, I KNOW, full-bodied, there is no way one post is enough for each of these episodes, so just expect a whole freaking unspooling over the weekend. ANYWAY. I’ll try to organize the quick thoughts first, then the deep thoughts.

2) Just get First and Khao together again already! They can’t help their chemistry to be ridiculously great. AND HOW GOOD IS FIRST. HOW GOOD IS HE. Just knowing when to fume just slightly, when to pull back for the sake of a scene. AND HOW GOOD IS KHAOTUNG. God. His crying! It took me OUT. Tears over here, streaming tears.

3) Speaking of hearts aching, I cried not only during the funeral scene because of Khao, but because I love this now-repeating motif that Aof uses of bringing a song that’s sung in the show as music for the background of the show, à la Bad Buddy. To think of every step of art to weave into a drama to keep you fully connected -- it’s really beautiful to me.

4) Mark/Leng with his UCLA jacket, what up, Cali, cute cute. (By the way, I’m missing View/Praew. She was incredible in 10 Years Ticket, and I think she could have lent her brilliance to MC. I’m going to add The Shipper to my list for First/Ohm/View.)

5) The continued motif of showing the cast participating in time-honored spiritual rituals. As sad as it sounds, I love funeral scenes and the way a temple brings together a community. Even Wen working at the temple -- it’s very real (at least at the Indian/Asian funerals I saw as a kid) to basically have a lot of the funeral feel like a community get-together.

6) Heart joining Li Ming to hand out drinks at the temple just messed me up. It messed me up good. When the young adults automatically help out at events without being told by their parents. It means a lot in Asian societies. 

7) Deeper thoughts. @wen-kexing-apologist hit on this in their BEAUTIFUL POST about the show being centered on parent-child relationships. There’s a lot here in this episode, I may not get to it all. 

Here’s how I’d break it down (and this post by @justafriend-ql covers so much so well):

a) Jam comes back after years of not seeing Li Ming b) Li Ming is OBLIGATED, by UNSPOKEN CULTURAL RULES, to continue to respect her as a parent c) Li Ming, clearly, wants fucking none of it d) Li Ming/Fourth EMANATES distaste for what he’s dealing with  e) Li Ming STILL has to control himself around his mom who moved him aside to live her life f) He has to ALSO DEAL with his uncle, who (yes, hypocritically) (but also hypothetically) asks him why he’s gay g) So Li Ming has to also deal with his uncle’s internalized homophobia and old-fashioned views on gays in society, which may very well arise in part from his upbringing in rural Isaan h) Jim has to also deal with his sister’s guilt over not having been a mom, and her trying to sort of half-heartedly show up (until the last scene with them, which I think was meant as a symbol that there might be healing happening among the three), and i) Jim beginning to see Li Ming for the adult that he is becoming.

@justafriend-ql covered in their two posts about Li Ming the sheer SIMMERING, the shimmering ANGER that Fourth portrayed, and I felt @wen-kexing-apologist​’s  pain in my bones when I watched those scenes.

So much of what I am loving about Aof’s work as I enjoy my ride through his oeuvre is this family dissection -- the microscopic examination of the painful aftereffects of holistic filial piety (COUGH Bad Buddy) -- and I can never say enough how important his family art work is to Asian audiences. When I see these scenes of young adults holding themselves back with every iota of their energy to not JUMP KICK their parents when they’re acting stupid -- man, I feel that so hard. 

Jam coming back and asking for Li Ming is just lame, and we all know it, and Li Ming knows it. And yet, he is BOUND by CULTURAL PRACTICE -- cultural rules that even JIM REFERENCES -- to need to hold back and respect his mother, because that’s what Thai cultural boundaries demand. So I agree with @justafriend-ql that what Fourth radiated was beyond brilliant. As a viewer, I really want to see Li Ming’s gates open and to see him rage, because my inner child wants to rage right along with him.

But that night scene with Jim and Li Ming, man. 

I think this bit of this scene is what ended up helping Jim to relax, and to see Li Ming as an adult. 

I am loving how Jim is written. The constant, CONSTANT pull between old values and new. This scene so beautifully depicted Jim in that balancing struggle. 

Li Ming is just pulling Jim along to the light of the future, as children/young adults do. Li Ming NEEDS his uncle to see HIMSELF (Jim) in Li Ming. And I think that’s what’s happening, in part, in this scene. Jim sees that Li Ming CAN understand how complicated the world is around him. Jim SEES that Li Ming is a CRITICAL THINKER.

Jim has been a solo parent for so long. He’s worried about his kid. They’re poor. His kid’s gay. Jim’s worried about his kid being poor and gay. Jim expresses it, at first, in an old-fashioned, shouting, angry way. Jim accidentally outs Li Ming to Jam.

And then. The two guys -- the guys -- sit with each other, rest and wash in the process of mourning an important member in the community. Jim tries to hear Li Ming at Li Ming’s level. And Jim finds that he can hear. 

And maybe, even, Jim is beginning to learn that he can transcend those old-fashioned values -- those UNSPOKEN CULTURAL RULES that still bind much of Li Ming’s behavior towards his mother -- to be a model for Li Ming, AND TO HIMSELF, to live a hopefully more fulfilling life. (I think that might be what’s happening, in part, with the cancellation of the diner’s lease at the end of the episode -- but the preview for the finale has me wondering if I’m right.)

8) I don’t know how much I have left, but I took these screenshots to also talk about Jim’s internalized homophobia. I think I’ve covered it already in my Li Ming analysis, but come AWN, just look at this SASS BUCKET OVER HERE:

I took these to confirm that Jim was “just being a dad” (ugh) in the moment of him yelling at Li Ming, but I think Jim redeemed himself with that night chat with Li Ming. So I’m just gonna leave these screenshots here BECAUSE COULD WEN/MIX BE ANY MORE SASSY?

I’m already missing these guys. I need Our Skyy 2 REALLY SOON. 

I’m gonna need a lot of sleep tonight to manage tomorrow.

[dxrkvibez]

Random Og Cobras headcanons that I have that I’ve come up with while talking to other people, writing, or role playing (:

if you have any others pleaseeee give them to me. i love hearing them

Johnny:

-definitely the smoothest with the girls. Not always something that he particularly likes though

-when his mom and step dad are fighting, he’ll drive somewhere peaceful and lay on top of his firebird and just enjoy the silence. Also keeps beer in his car for this reason, but if anyone asks he’ll tell them its for spur of the moment parties

Dutch:

-actually has huge claustrophobia. Will not let anyone know about it though

-showed signs of being ‘messed up’ when he was younger. He was the type of kid that would like to kill smaller animals (Reptiles, Fish, Squirrels, etc) in different ways to see what would happen with each way he killed them.

-has a huge soft side. Especially with his partners. Definitely the little spoon when it comes to cuddling.

Bobby:

-likes old shows and movies. Anything from the 20’s to the 60’s

-closeted nerd. Blames the fact that he knows random Star Wars, Marvel, and dc facts on his parents or other friends (outside of the cobras)

-had a younger sister who died, and he blamed himself for the death of her. He was supposed to be babysitting her, but she had just gotten surgery, and was on painkillers, and he left the medication on the table where she could get it, so he could get back to what he was doing, and she took the rest of the bottle so she could ‘get better faster’ without telling bobby about it, and he hadn’t been paying attention. To this day he still blames himself and is almost sure his parents have never forgiven him either. They were 8 years apart in age. She was 6 when she died.

Tommy:

-undiagnosed adhd. He doens’t mean to say the things he does, or do half the things he does, but sometimes his brain just feels like it’s going a mile a minute and he doesn’t know how to stop it

Jimmy:

-The caretaker of the group.

-Struggles with a huge anxiety problem (although he always swears he’s fine and its definitely not because of his home life or because of cobra kai. Those don’t make it worse at all)

-youngest of the group

Group:

-have been friends basically their whole lives

-Johnny and Bobby met when they were around 5 or 6 years old

-Dutch became friends with Johnny in early elementary school and despite Bobby not agreeing with everything that Dutch did, the boy became part of their friend group

-Tommy joined around late elementary school. Johnny wasn’t a huge fan of him at first, since Tommys personality threatened Johnnys ‘leadership’ position in the group, but they actually became really close later on

-Jimmy is someones cousin which is why he’s apart of the group. Most likely Johnnys or Bobbys.

-They basically all have bad parents in one way or another, which is why they confide in each other

-all questioned their sexuality at one point (don’t even get me started on my cobra ships)

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Work In Progress Wednesday

There's still two and a half hours left in Wednesday, so this counts... I posted this earlier but now I've been tagged so I wanted to officially post it, post it... basically I'm the B99 meme, changed to- "you posted that already- and I will post it again!"

Thank you to @kiloskywalker for the tag, and anyone who reads this and puts up with my ramblings- you're the most, you really are

This is from my Owen and Gwyn have another kid, TK has a little sister fic- this is further down the road from where the story is currently but I've had this scene kicking around my head since I rewatched the episode (you can probably guess which one)

2017 -

Sophie stood frozen in the open doorway. From the telltale purse on the counter, she knew that her mom had beat her home. But that wasn’t as surprising as the fact that the voice she could hear was a male voice, and definitely not Enzo’s. “Do you think this has been going on since the accident?” Sophie heard her father say. “It’s crossed my mind,” she heard her mother answer. “I know one of the guys he met in grief therapy was arrested for dealing”. “How did you know that?” Owen asked. “That’s the part you want to focus on?” Gwyn replied. “No,” Owen answered. “But I talked to him when that happened. He told me that he was fine”. “Owen”. Sophie was always amazed at how many emotions her mother could pack into one word. “Owen, our son is struggling with battling addiction for the third time in his life. You don’t think that maybe, he lied to you?” There was a long pause after that. Sophie took another step into the apartment but she kept her hand on the door; she knew her parents wouldn’t keep having this conversation if they knew she could hear. Finally, Sophie heard her mother say, “Is this you saying that you think I’m wrong?” “No”. Owen answered. “Because I don’t. But if you’re right, that means I’ve been sending someone on calls and putting people’s lives in the hands of someone who’s high off his ass”. More silence followed this. Sophie heard her dad say, “Do you want me to be there? When you tell him?” “No,” Gwyn answered. “I think I should tell him myself”. Sophie let go of the door. It slammed with a loud crack. The view of the dining table was a little obscured, but she could tell that both of her parents had turned around at the noise. “Soph, hi,” Gwyn said, going to greet her daughter. “I didn’t realize what time it was”. “I didn’t know you’d be home yet”. Sophie replied. “Dad, what are you doing here?” “Your mother needed me to sign for something”. He answered. “Sign for what?” Sophie asked. “Is this about TK?” “How much did you hear?” her mother asked her. “Enough”. Sophie said. “To know this has something to do with TK”. “It’s a grown up matter, Sophie,” her mother told her. “Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m eighteen,” Sophie said, dropping her bag on the floor with a thud. “Gwyneth”. Owen interjected. “She’s going to find out”. “Fine”. Gwyn sighed. “I needed your dad, or rather, your brother’s fire captain to sign this to approve your brother not being at work for thirty days while he is in rehab”. “Rehab?” Sophie repeated. “Like, rehab… rehab?” Sophie wasn’t a little kid; she knew that her brother had problems with addiction (she was the one who found his near-lifeless body on the roof alone when she was twelve years old). But packing him up and sending him to rehab; that was a first. “Exactly like rehab, rehab,” her mother answered. “I’m taking your brother to an inpatient facility in California tomorrow”. Sophie had a lot of questions, but knew she had to choose carefully. The window of information her mom would share with her willingly would close very soon. “Why California?” she asked. “Because it’s supposed to be the best”. Gwyn said quietly. “And I want this to be the last time we need to do this”. “Okay”. Sophie said. “Can I…” she wasn’t sure what to say. “What can I do?” “Actually go to school?” her mom said, reaching out and tucking a stray piece of hair back into her daughter’s braid. “Don’t give your dad any trouble? Enzo’s still helping his mom, you’re going to stay with your dad while I’m gone”. “And I have known you slightly longer than Enzo has,” Owen muttered. “You can’t help yourself, can you?” Gwyn sighed. “Sorry”. Owen said. “When are you going to tell him?” “I’m going to see if I can find him tonight”. Gwyn said. She looked back at Sophie. “Do you need anything else to go to your dad’s tonight?” “No”. Sophie shook her head. “Dad, don’t you work today?” “I switched my days off”. Owen answered. For the first time, Sophie noticed how tired both her parents looked.

***

No pressure tags: @dreamingofmickeywaffles, @lightningboltreader, @firstprince-history-huh, @ellena-asg, @reyestrandd, @statueinthestone and anyone else who wants to participate

[peaceluvsmith]

Diary Entry #2

𖤐 Oct. 3rd 2023

I had a plan.

Had.

It's proving to be a lot harder than I thought and this is only day one of phase one.

Today I had a stressful time with mom. - which tbh doesn't happen very often.

I asked her if we could go to that "art school" in town so I could know and/or apply for the electric guitar lessons I've been talking about for a while.

She started by saying we couldn't afford those and if I wanted them I should be able to pay them.

Reasonable.

However, she wouldn't stop talking and wouldn't give me a chance to even say anything.

She basically pressured me into going back to that restaurant I had a horrible time in.

I never want to step foot in there again, much less work for them.

She then said even her and dad could go cause they're not "afraid to work". Yes, but... how is that related to my question of going to town real quick?

Don't get me wrong, I would never force my parents to pay for something they couldn't afford. Mom knows that better than anybody and would also never accuse me of such.

She's not the villain in any way, shape or form for anyone who's reading... or the fbi agent watching me.

But I guess it was kind of a slap into reality after these two months I have spent with my sister and all her encouraging conversations.

Very very different.

I guess mom was just waiting for her to go so she could snap me back into reality. This reality.

I know the reality my sister talks about is real. Very real, just seems far when she's not around. Doesn't even seem possible, actually.

I guess that's what made today seem like a colossal lost:

She went away;

I lost most of my hope and most of my plans are proving to not have a chance of happening

That's pretty much all I had to this moment. All I was holding onto.

This is day one.

Mana (sister) said it's not about the money. That I can spare some of my future wages on the lessons/courses I want because that's what this year is all about.

God, if you could just hear her speak.

She motivates you in a way that is so scary to my world-terrified soul.

Mana has a more comfortable life than we do here and I always forget that when I'm with her.

I usually spend a little over a month with her in England with plans for what I will do when I come back home.

And they all vanish once I get here.

Why?

Cause I get the privilege of being reminded that "things are not how you want them to be"

Mana can help with my driver's license, the lessons, the courses, the lack of motivation, and the will to go on.

She can and she will. She will do everything that's on and beyond her reach to help and support me.

That bubble just seems to burst when it catches mom's ears.

Everything is so contradictory. Is life like this all the time?

This is day one.

𖤐

Smith

[sea-salted-wolverine]

@slightlyunderokayartist i made another post so I didn't hijack the other one. Because I basically paraphrased an entire novel.

I am going to make you appreciate Pride and Prejudice. It may at some point involve a PowerPoint full of comic sans and memes but I'm on my phone right now, so bear with me. Don't worry, I will remain nice about it.

The thing about Austen, is that she was one of the earliest means based feminists. (Yes, shes writing about landed gentry, but this is 180fuck and feminism is baby steps) Basically the thrust of alot of her work is that violence against women isn't always physical or even particularly violent. A lot of her contemporaries had stories about kidnapping and coercion and perfect pure heroines. In contrast Austen writes a character who is kinda a bitch and the primary antagonist is the fact that her life is entirely beholden to the decisions of the men around her.

So the book opens and you have lizzy. A bitch(affectionate). Shes got four sisters, no brothers and parents wealthy enough to own a country estate but not a London town house. So they're well-off but not fancy.

Lizzy is the second daughter and her dads favorite, because she's clever and cynical like he is. Her older sister is beautiful and sweet and shy and if Austen were anyone else she would be the main character. But Austen said 'nah, I wanna write about the messy one'. There are also 3 younger sisters who are various mixtures of spoiled bratty immature wild child girls.

If you can't tell, Mom and Dad have not been doing a ton of parenting. Specifically Dad, has not bothered to hire a tutor or send them to school so none of them has any marketable skills beyond being a socialite. And they're not even particularly good at it. Dad is less than motivated to take them anywhere they make connections and the entire family is pretty yikes as a result of his decisions. People see Jane (older sister) and go 'oh shes pretty and pleasant and her sister (lizzy) is fun to chat with, but yikes'

The issue is, there's no dowery for any of these girls. A dowery, if you don't already know is money set aside for a woman's married life that transfers to control of her husband when she leaves her family or if she doesn't marry, goes in a trust so she'll be supported when she doesn't have family to take her in. Its basically an insurance policy so she won't starve to death on the street because women can't legally own anything. Also it's a lot of money, that then goes to the new husband, so it makes woman in question more desirable. These girls don't have that, because dad never got around to it. Other issue, when dad dies all his stuff, including the house, goes to some cousin because women can't hold property. Cousin has never met this family and could decide to kick them all out when he owns the house.

Mom, looks at her daughters and goes, 'holy tits, you have got to get married. Preferably to someone rich enough to take care of his in-laws, but married, now.' So she's trying to marry her daughters off for money and different adaptions handle this differently but the original work is pretty forgiving because the other option is pretty grim.

In comes Mr Darcy and his buddy Mr Bingley. Bingley is very wealthy and has the personality of a golden retriever. Darcy is extremely wealthy and doesn't want to be there but his extrovert bestie is dragging him to parties because its good for him.

Mom goes 🤑🤑🤑 and shoves her daughters over there. Bingley and Jane are getting along immediately and Darcy is looking at Mom and going "uh dude..."

There is an overheard conversation that consists mostly of "eh, Jane seems nice but uh everything else? Yikes.😬 " to which Lizzy has the opinion of "what a dick, whatever, not like i ever have to see him again"

Except Mom sees JanexBingley happening and she's gotta lock that shit down. So she insists jane ride on over to his place for a visit tomorrow. In the rain.

"But momma we are fragile English gentry we can't get rained on, I will surely fall ill and die" says jane.

"Yeah, no shit, that's the point. Now go live your favorite hurt/comfort sick!fic and snag a husband"

Jane gets rained on, Jane gets sick. Lizzy says absolutely not and walks over to Bingley's house in the mud and busts down the door to get to Jane. (Lizzy has Plot Armour and/or a functional circulatory system)

Darcy, who's chilling at his bros house, looks at Lizzy and goes "oh, wow" Lizzy goes "you're a dick i don't care about your opinions"

Inside of Darcy head: ooooooh😳😳😳 pretty lady being mean to me? Flirting? 💘Maybe?🥰 oh no shes meeting all my standards

What actually comes out of his mouth: I'm not impressed

Lizzy: I don't feel bad about hating you, because as usual, I'm right

Then Mom shows up, because it can always be worse. Jane is in fact living and enjoying her hurt/comfort sick!fic and Lizzy is about to invent noise canceling headphones a couple centuries early so she doesn't have to make any more small talk. Mom wants to make sure that Jane is being slutty enough. The bratty little sisters are there. Bingley is shopping for rings. Darcy the hypocrite thinks maybe he should chill a little because the prospective inlaws are yikes.

A note: having unhinged in-laws was a big no-no that reflected badly on you as a person, un like today when its just assumed that everyone has a nightmare somewhere on the other side of the family. Like the toilet shotgun. We don't talk about the toilet shotgun.

Carrying on

We meet a dude. His name is Wickham. Hes a bad dude but we don't know that yet. He is of the opinion that Darcy is a huge cunt and Lizzy decides this man has good opinions. There's drama, Darcy screwed me over, blah blah, he sucks and I'm broke but handsome and charming.

We also meet the cousin. Imagine the most obnoxious person you know with a connection to some random famous wealthy person and make sure they bring it up every chance they get. He's also aware he inherits the house.

Marrying your cousin was a thing back then, so he looks at the available choices and picks the pretty one. Jane is spoken for, says Mom but Lizzy is very lovely, I'm sure she would love to be not homeless. Cousin goes yea sure, acceptable. Hey Liza, sorry, Lizzy, I love you v. much, plz marry.

Lizzy, understandably, does not want. Says no. Will not marry into a miserable loveless marriage for comfort. Dad gets the final say, says yeah thats reasonable, favorite daughter gets what she wants. Mom goes "hey your options are miserable and married or miserable and homeless. And your entire family comes with you on the second one. Are you sure thats your final answer?"

Theres some plot, there's a party. Bingley cuts it off with Jane and she sad. Lizzy is pretty sure it's Darcy's fault.

The man himself shows up and asks her to marry him. It goes... poorly.

There is an adaption where she starts swinging a fire poker at him while spouting lines of dialog lifted straight from the book and its not out of place. She reads this man for filth, bringing up Wickham and how he's responsible for breaking her sisters heart and also in general a huge dick that she would not marry if he was the last man on earth. It does not help that he's not only admitting to the things she's accusing him of but defending it with stuff like "i didnt want my buddy marrying into your nightmare family" and "Wickham is an asshole who deserved it"

She knows shes fucked if she doesn't mary rich but she bitches this man out so hard he leaves town and goes back home to learn to be nicer.

A bit later she gets a long ass letter explaining how Darcy thought that Jane was getting shoved into marriage by their mother and didn't want her and Bingley to end up unhappy. And also how Wickham got a fuckload of money from Darcy's dead father and squandered it all because he's an asshole. The asshole also tried to marry his baby sister to weasel into the family fortune so they're not talking and there's the 1800s version of a restraining order out there. Ends with something like "I respect you and am a little scared of you which is why I wanted to marry you and if you never want to speak to me again thats fine"

Lizzy should really be allowed to say fuck here but she doesn't. She decides to get out of town herself and goes to chill with her aunt and uncle. They're touring the countryside and Darcy has a house big enough for tours so they end up touring the house. (Ugh, rich people)

The household staff who work for this guy are all of high opinions. The cleaning lady knows your shit. She knows. And they all like the guy.

Lizzy does not say fuck.

Darcy is not supposed to be there in his own house but he shows up in his own house and sees the love of his life with whom he monumentally blew it. In his own house.

Darcy doesn't get to say fuck either.

Lizzy gets a letter and she really really should be allowed to say fuck because Wickham has run off with her baby sister.

Not married. Run off. Sister has had no supervision or parenting and just knows she needs to get a man so she did. Kinda. And tanked her whole family's reputation in doing so. No no one will marry any of the sisters and they're all fucked.

Darcy realizes this is partly his fault and hes also the only one who can really fix it. So he, without telling anyone, runs down Wickham and threatens/blackmails/bribes him into marrying baby sister and saving everyone's reputation. He makes sure little sister and Wickham have enough money to live comfortably regardless of how shit that relationship turns out to be.

Then he goes over to his sad golden retriever friend who has been moping about the pretty lady who didn't love him and point out that now he has spent all that money and effort rehabilitating the Bennet reputation Bingley might as well marry Jane. So Bingley prances off to go propose to Jane and Mom realizes her family is secure and quits double fisting ye old anxiety meds.

He doesn't tell anyone this. Lizzys family still thinks she hates him. He shows up and goes "hey hope you're happy and okay with this, my feelings haven't changed since last time I asked, I'm hoping yours have."

Lizzy would love to marry this guy because he was never really an asshole from the start and her family is indeed kinda a mess.

Her dad reassures her she doesn't have to marry the rich dude she hates for his money, Jane already did that. Lizzy explains that no actually she loves him and also he saved their ass with respect to the Wickham debacle. Dad decides that Darcy must be a good dude if thats the case and says yep go get married.

Blah blah blah happily ever after.

Lizzy overcomes her prejudices against Darcy and unbends her pride enough to admit she was wrong.

[minilpark]

Hi! Do you have any hcs for Hangman's backstory?

now..i've been waiting for this question for a hot minute! i have lots of thoughts on how my version of the pilots were brought up and if anyone has read some of my other hcs, you can see them there, but not in full depth- anyways here are some thoughts i have for jake!

i fully believe this man is from texas and his family lives on a small ranch (where in texas specifically is up to y'all because idk texas like that)

i also believe that his family was lower middle class to middle class so they had some money to spare at times, but most of the times it was a bit rough

unlike some other top gun maverick writers, i believe jake's father was a naval aviator and someone jake did look up to. however, there were many times his father was not present both physically and emotionally for him. and yet, i don't think this hindered jake's amazement with who he is as a person and everything about his father's experiences in the navy

despite this, he is still definitely a momma's boy. being the oldest son, he felt the need to step up and help his mother around the house/ranch more and with taking care of his other siblings.

speaking of siblings, i like to think he has an older sister (37), then he's the second oldest (32), a younger sister (20), and a younger brother (18).

anyways going back to his role in the household, he and his older sister definitely picked up the chores when their mom was busy at work, tired, etc. which is how he learned how to cook, clean, do laundry, sew, the basics

and he's damn good at it

being in a family with multiple siblings, and especially that of a military family, there are expectations to be set and at times it can feel like a competition to receive love and affection from either parent. this is why i think. jake behaves the way he does now. he sets high expectations for himself and strives to be the best so his family is proud of him. this is why he has such a big ego and is not that much of a team player- because he can't rely on others to do their work up to his level (am i projecting a bit on to jake's character? maybe but it feels fitting)

concerning school, i think he excelled in most subjects and if he had to pick a favourite, he'd choose science

he was definitely one of the popular kids, but he wasn't an asshole unlike a lot of them

i also imagine he was a school athlete, he probably did wrestling and baseball

when the time came for him to decide what he wanted to do after graduation, he thought of going to college and being the first male in his family to do so, but that dream was lowkey squashed at how expensive schooling was and especially because his mom was already trying to help his older sister get through college herself

and when he heard that he could get free education from the naval recruiters visiting his school, he figured that was a good route to go

if his dad can do it, he definitely had the genes right?

and so he signed up

when he was finally able to use his navy benefits (while on active duty), he decided to get a bachelors in political science

he eventually became a naval aviator because he was attracted to the thought of flying, it seemed so freeing (which is something he definitely needed after spending most of his life "tied down" in a way) and he remembered the stories his dad used to tell that intrigued him so much and the rest is history

if you'd like to know more niche thoughts i have about jake, then let me know, but this is an outline of what i think jake's backstory is generally!

[shokobuns]

“𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨?”

your irritating step brother likes to come in your room during your zoom classes.

PAIRING: stepbro!gojo satoru x f!reader

GENRE(S): smut, quarantine!au (au? LMAO), college!au, taboo

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNING(S): darkish, smut, drug use (weed), high sex, stepcest, taboo, slight dubcon, slight manipulation, exhibitionism (if you squint), sensory deprivation (blindfold), degradation, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), squirting, dacryphilia (if you squint)

(A/N): this rly do be my first time using proper capitalization huh, anyways all characters, SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THE READ MORE I FIXED IT 

More.

One thing you easily learned about Satoru was the fact he wasn’t easy to satisfy. He’s demanding, cocky, all the while being nonchalant. He rarely exerts effort, but gets the desired results. He’s arrogant, but it’s nearly impossible to point out a flaw to counter it at all.

It makes your head hurt. It makes your teeth clench.

When you make eye contact, you make sure to stare back daggers. When you’re forced to talk to him, your voice stays monotone and expressionless. When you’re in a room with him for more than five minutes, your earbuds are already out, drowning out the sound of his voice. But it’s all difficult when you’re under the same roof.

Knock. Knock.

You roll your eyes at the sound of your step brother knocking your door, wondering what the hell he wants now. At this point, he’s probably just trying to annoy you, poke at your sides until he gets attention, any kind of attention, all just to satisfy his boredom.

Your calm demeanor and sharp tongue has always contrasted with Satoru’s teasing attitude. He’s always seemingly trying to provoke you, trying to pry apart the walls you’ve barricaded yourself in. His personality never rubbed you in the right way from the day your dad surprised you with a dinner with your new brother and your new mom. It didn’t matter anyways, you thought. You’d be going off to university soon enough.

The pandemic ran over all of your plans like a truck.

Better yet, your parents still had work without the option of staying home, leaving you and Satoru home alone for a little over eight hours a day. When he wasn’t in class or tutoring his juniors, he was knocking at your door, most likely red-eyed, though you can’t see it, and relaxed. Despite his persistence, you rarely let him in no matter how insistent he is in “getting to know his new lil sister.”

“Go away, Satoru.”

Behind the door, he pouts while you scribble down notes from the screenshared presentation. He comes in anyways, reeking of marijuana and cologne, half of his shirt buttons undone. You steal a small glance before once again glueing your eyes to your computer screen. The voice of your professor bores you, but you’re hyper aware of Satoru’s presence as he makes himself comfortable on your bed. “Get the fuck off! You stink!” You yell, turning off your camera before throwing a pencil right at him.

He catches it mid air with ease, relaxing his head on your pillows while fiddling with one of your many Sanrio plushies. “Can I have this?” he asks, holding one up as you contemplate its value in your head.

“If it gets you out of my room, then sure.” you reply in a monotone voice, turning back to your notes.

“You’re no fun,” he mumbles, rolling over to lay on his side with the plushie in his arms, “Is that organic chem?”

“Yeah, can you go now?”

“I’ll be quiet, princess. Don’t worry about me, just wanna know what my lil sis is up to.” He waits for a response, but is only rewarded with a huff.

It stays like that for the next ten minutes, him watching your professor’s lecture, you scrambling to write all of the information on the slides as he continues the fast paced lesson. You’re hyper focused on your class, putting in your effort to absorb the entirety of the content. In your mind, the only people in your room are your and your computer. “You know, you don’t have to understand everything all at once,��  a voice speaks up from behind you, causing you to purse your lips in annoyance, “It’s easier to learn when you’re actually paying attention to the lecture instead of focusing on trying to get everything down.

“We get it, Satoru. You have straight A’s and you’re naturally good at everything.”

“Hey, you’re getting advice from an aspiring teacher. Don’t need to use that tone with me, Princess.” He mumbles, rolling to his back on the bed, “Just tryna help you out in my free time.”

“I don’t need your help.”

He stays silent while you go back to drawing some of your basic compounds. Ethanol, methanol, propane, all of it. Your scribbles are messy and they progressively fill out the page in your notebook. You hear a tsk behind you, rolling your eyes as you prepare for another criticism from Satoru. Sure, he was probably right, but you refuse to feed into his ego. “Does he not link the slides to you guys or something?” he asks, this time with a friendlier tone.

“He does.” you reply, swiveling your chair until you’re facing him. He’s laying on his side again, his shirt spilling off his shoulder as your breath hitches at the sight. The blindfold is snug against his face, his hair pushed up. You’re sure that the stink of marijuana has rubbed onto your sheets and you make a mental note to wash them after class. “Then get high with me.”

“I’m in the middle of class, dumbass.”

“But you can always look at the slides later.” he suggests, “Plus, you’ve looked super stressed lately. Wonder why.”

Because of you, you want to say, but you stop yourself, opting to stay silent while pondering the offer. “Sure.”

He excitedly walks back to his room, returning to your bed seconds later with a joint between his fingertips. “This your first time?”

“Nah.”

“Ooooo,” he hums like a child, “That’s what you’re up to when we’re not around, huh?” he teases and you shake your head with a smile forming on your face.

“I guess.”

He shrugs, holding the joint up to your lips and lighting up the tip. You suck in the smoke into your lungs, holding it in, before exhaling out the screen door of your window. He takes a hit, opening his mouth and inhaling through his nose then passing it back to you. Your professor’s lecture fades into background noise as you fixate on Satoru, finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for weeks. He makes a mental note to offer you weed the next time he’s overcome by boredom.

The high hits you almost immediately. You’ve never had anything this strong and it’s liberating. You feel weightless, but your eyelids feel heavy. Your face is awfully warm and lifted and your vision gets more and more blurry by the second. The intoxication is pleasant, the present worries in your head being cut off as you focus on what’s right in front of you.

Satoru.

Satoru, your dear, irritating step brother who was kind enough to share the weed he stashes in his drawer. It’s getting harder and harder to hate him and you can’t reason why you felt so many negative emotions that you projected onto him at all. Sure, your room reeks and it’s all because of him, but the sight of him laying on your bed in a shirt that barely covers up his upper body makes your underwear feel uncomfortable. You don't know where it’s coming from, but shutting it out was easy when you’re sober. Key word: sober.

You stand from your desk, making your way to your bed and laying next to him. Both of you face each other, easily getting comfortable, warmth radiating off his body. It feels oddly intimate and your thighs press together in order to suppress the lustful feeling that takes over your body. Your arm comes around to the back of his head, tugging on the fabric that covers his eyes. “Can I take it off?”

“Sure.”

He lifts his head, allowing you to pull on the knot until it becomes undone. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe a scar or something, but you’re in awe of the blue orbs that make you feel like you were staring into infinity. They’re bloodshot and half lidded and it’s when one fact you really didn’t want to accept hits you.

Satoru Gojo is one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.

And he’s your step brother.

Uneasiness stirs in your lower tummy and you curse at whatever higher power that decided to give you this type of luck, but a hand on your hip trails to your back, pulling your closer and closer until your faces are at a dangerous distance. You can feel your cheeks becoming alarmingly hot and you hate that you can’t blame it on the weed. His hand comes up to your cheeks, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Thought you wanted me to go away?”

“Changed my mind.” you whisper, eyes slowly closing, lips parting open as you wait for him to lean in and close the gap.

“Hmm? What’s this?” he sneers, causing your eyes to shoot open and your body to jolt up from your bed. The hazy feeling on your head still remains, making it hard to stand completely straight. “Get out.” you sternly demand, leaning back on your desk chair and pointing towards your door.

“Why should I? I don’t think you really want me to leave, babe.” He props his head on his hand, leaning his elbow onto your mattress.

“It’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong? We’re just two people hanging out on a bed. Unless you were trying to do something else, dirty girl.”

“I- I wasn’t! You’re my step brother!”

“Step brother.” He repeats, justifying your actions.

You’re shaking, guilt occupying your mind keeping you distracted. It’s the perfect time for Satoru to get comfortable in the space between your legs, pulling down your loose shorts and taking you by surprise. Before you have a chance to protest, his nose brushes against your sensitive core, making you let out a squeak. “W-We can’t do this!”

“Didn’t you want this?” he questions, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Wanted me to take care of this pretty little pussy, right?”

You know you should be refusing. You know you should be pushing him out your door. But it’s so hard when his pupils are dilated and the grip on the sides of your thighs feels so right. At this point, you’re not thinking, only nodding along to whatever he’s saying, anticipating his next actions.

“So wet.” He mumbles, pulling down the flimsy fabric and throwing it off somewhere in the room. He licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly on the pearl while holding you down as the pleasure causes you to jolt upwards. He sucks and slurps like it’s his last meal, making your empty walls pulsate and little whines along with to leave your lips. Looking down, your eyes meet his, the lower half of his face immersed in your cunt.

The wet muscle fucks into you, curling and pressing against your walls, while his thumb rubs against your little clit. He hits all the right spots that make you squirm, pushing your legs wide open to see more of your ruined pussy. The wetness collects on his mouth, his chin, and his cheeks, filling him with a sick sense of satisfaction. “Such a whore, aren’t ya?” he pulls away to comment, but your fingers thread through his hair, pushing his head back where you need him most.

The action is assertive, something he usually hates dealing with. Though this time, he’s filled with a sick sense of pride at the fact that he was able to turn you, someone who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, into a moaning mess with just his mouth. He hums satisfactorily, sending vibrations into your sensitive core that make your thighs shaky.

You’re already cumming in an embarrassingly short time, gushing all over his face while he laps up all the juices you have to offer.

Before you can process anything else, his lips capture yours, lifting your body and dropping you onto your bed. You look at him with half lidded eyes, still sensitive from your last orgasm, while he pulls off his own clothes. His length rests on the inside of your thigh and he’s huge, so huge that it feels heavy against your skin and it scares you. “Satoru, I don’t think I can take you-”

“Shhh, princess,” he reassures you, “You started this. You have to take it.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, taking the fabric of his blindfold and covering your eyes, tying a tight knot on the back of your head. This isn’t right, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it because Satoru treats you so well. He keeps you company, gives you some of his weed, eats your pussy without you having to ask him.

The only thing you can see is black and you whine. You so badly want to see Satoru’s pretty face, his chiseled body, his thick cock, but your thoughts are interrupted by the fat tip prodding at your tiny hole. “Too big..” your voice trails off as your mind is lifted, only the feeling of him splitting you in half remaining. You’ve never felt so full and it feels so dirty, yet your slick says otherwise, betraying any rational part that still resides in your body.

“I got you, Princess, don’t worry.” He slurs, drunk on the sensation of your snug walls. The stretch strings, whimpers spilling from your lips, but his cock hits every spot like no other. By the time he’s fully inside of you, it feels like he’s actually in your guts and it’s all intensified by the isolated feeling, not being able to see him at all. Every bite on your shoulder, every kiss on your open mouth, every delicious drag on your gummy walls is amplified.

You’re already cumming around him, a ring of cream forming on his cock as he gazes down at your bare body, wrapping his lips around a sensitive nipple. You squeal, your breath hitching at the same time you clamp down around his throbbing length. “Already? Such a sensitive little princess, aren’t you?” He mutters in your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders, piercing the pale skin. Tears spill from your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face.

His teeth sink into your shoulder and you want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t quite leave your lips. Only babbling noises accompanied by the wet sounds of your cunt and skin slapping against skin. He’s still pounding into your cervix at a relentless pace, in awe of how your slick drips down his balls and onto the white sheets. 

Every time he hits that sweet spot, there’s an odd feeling that forms, like you’re about to make a mess. And when your next orgasm washes over you in intense waves of euphoria, a clear liquid spurts from your cunny, coating his lower stomach and your inner thighs. “Who knew my little princess was such a messy girl?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“S-shut up-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he leans in close, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ll clean it all up.”

His smooth voice causes you to squeeze around him, almost like you don’t want him to ever leave your cunt, and it gets harder and harder for him to move. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight, need you to loosen up,” he mumbles, his own orgasm finally approaching, your little cunny milking him for all he’s worth. 

He’s rambling little praises, hot pleasure elevated by the high, his hips stuttering and his cock stuffing you to the brim with his warm seed. You both lay there, still intertwined and his body resting on top of yours.

“Ms. (L/N)! Did you have any questions about my lesson today?”

Your face drops in horror, your hand immediately pulling off the blindfold, as you push Satoru away from you and press the leave button on Zoom. A mix of your juices drop onto the floor and he chuckles, pulling you back to bed. “This isn’t over.”

He pins you back onto the mattress, his cock twitching at the sight of your leaking cunt, pulling your thighs until you’re close and pinning them to your chest. In one swift movement, his entire cock is shoved into your cunt, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with every thrust, fucking his cum back into your womb.

Gojo Satoru would never be satisfied.

[uwuwriting]

Bakugou and Todoroki w/ future kids but they meet the reader first

Request: I know you just wrote the future kids thing but I never see the reverse scenario happen where the kid meets the reader. But maybe because they're young or the reader isn't with the boi (Bakugou in this case who doesn't have a hero name yet and maybe the reader doesn't either) The kid keeps saying his parents hero names until he finally runs into Bakugou. The kid didn't realize the reader was the mom until they stood next to Bakugou. - anonymous 

I really enjoyed writing the future kids requests mainly because they were the cutest along side some dad requests I got recently. So I chose these two since we don’t have hero names for them and you didn’t specify any characters so yeah. If you want me to write for others please don’t hesitate to ask. Love yaa.💖💖💖

warnings: fluff, some mild panic

Bakugou Katsuki

-You had gone shopping with Tsuyu and Ochako but had parted ways when the girls had been called in from their agencies. 

-Making your way back to the dorms, you were vibin along with your music when you felt a small tug at your pant leg.

-Looking down you were met with a pair of small e/c eyes staring back at you with a few stray ash blonde locks swaying along the autumn breeze. 

-The little figure stared at you for a moment, a poker face adorning his features before he spoke. 

- “Excuse me, do you know where the Ground Zero agency is?”

-You had never heard of such an agency and kneeling down you looked at the small boy.

- “I’m sorry sweetheart but I don’t know an agency by that name. Who are your parents? Maybe we can find them.”

-The boy looked at you with confusion and some irritation sprinkled on top, for a few moments before letting out a sigh and telling you that his parents were pro heroes.

-His mother apparently was on a mission across seas so they couldn’t really contact her  but his dad, the number two hero , Ground Zero  would definitely help. 

-At first you thought that the boy was confused since the number two hero right now was Hawks and you didn’t know anyone by that hero name. 

-And you told the boy that he was wrong but he was adamant, insisting that his daddy was number two.

-When you mentioned Hawks he titled his little head to the side and said rather matter of factly that Hawks had retired long before he was born.

-That was weird to say the least.

-With everything that the boy told you you were beyond confused and you decided to take him to Aizawa, thinking it was the best course of action. 

-Offering the boy your hand he hesitantly took it saying that his mommy always said that he shouldn’t trust strangers. 

- “But you look very familiar so I trust you. Kinda.”

-And with that you walked hand in hand to the dorms with the intention to find Aizawa in his room.

-Along the way however you heard yelling coming from the common room and you mentally prepared yourself for the tantrum that Katsuki must be throwing in there. 

-Halting your steps you leaned down to the boy ready to prepare him for what was to come only to be met with an ecstatic little human chanting ‘daddy’ under his breath.

-His eyes were practically shinning while he was making mini hops here and there, trying to mask his excitement. 

-If you were being honest he reminded you of yourself when you get fired up but his appearance practically screamed Bakugou at you.

-You have had a crush on Katsuki for some time now but you’ve attempted to drown your feelings and save yourself the humiliation and heart break. 

-Key word: attempted.

- “You excited there kiddo?”

-He looked up at you with a large smile on his tiny face.

- “That sounds like my daddy! Mommy always says that shouting might be part of his quirk and every time she says that, daddy and I need to tickle her until she takes it back.”

- “Well if your father is anything like the baka you are about to meet than god help your mother.” you mumbled under your breath, the boy too excited to pay attention to you, as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

-You made to walk to Aizawa’s room when his voice boomed through the room. 

- “Oi this isn’t a nursery. What are you doing?” 

- “Shut it Bakugou!’

- “Did you kidnap the kid? ‘Cause it seems that he’s trying to get away from your dumbass.”

-He wasn’t wrong. 

-The boy was trying to leave your grasp that you had unconsciously tightened when you started talking with Bakugou.

-The little boy looked back at you and mouthed ‘That’s daddy!!!’ before prying your hand off of his wrist and running to the couch that Bakugou was sitting. 

-He looked at the child with a scowl on his face, his eyes darting over the boys’ features noticing some resemblances to himself but also some of your characteristics. 

-The kid certainly had his hair and face structure but his eyes, nose and mouth were all you. 

-And don’t get him started on that cute grin he had on his face that was a carbon copy of the one you have. 

-Bakugou hated to admit that he had a crush on you. 

-You had caught his eye when you had roasted him during your first week of school and you two had been bickering back and forth ever since, feelings starting to develop on both sides but neither of you being brave enough to actually confess. 

- “Y/N why the hell is your brother looking at me like that?”

-At that the boy snapped his head to you, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape the grin he adorned just a few seconds ago being replaced by a really confused look. 

- “He’s not my brother, I found him! Now if you’ll excuse us I have to find Aizawa and clear things out.”

-The boy didn’t move an inch as you approached him, his eyes fixated on your face and as you leaned forward to grab him he wrapped both his arms around your neck and manhandled you onto the couch, making you fall on top of Katsuki. 

-The blushes on your faces were legendary.

-The kid was staring at you two and suddenly jumped on top of BOTH of you making Katsuki groan.

- “Mommy, mommy i thought you were in America with auntie Mina! Why did you pretend you didn’t know me? Why is daddy so small? Where are we?”

-Bakugou was staring at the kid shooting question after question as you on the other hand were on the brink of passing out from the word mommy. 

- “Oi, oi slow down. What’s your name shrimp?”

-He looked at Katsuki with a frown before roll his eyes and answering. 

- “Bakugou Tatsuo you old man.”

-They had to bring you to Recovery girl because you passed out and both Bakugou men were panicking.

Todoroki Shouto

-You didn’t know what hit you really. 

-You were lounging outside on your balcony enjoying the view the dorms gave you when you heard shouting from above you before you were frozen in place and a little ball of red hair came tumbling down the ice slide.

-It almost slammed against your glass door but stopped just on time, shaking the frost from the red locks. 

-As the child turned to you, her eyes widened and she quickly let out a string of sorry’s as she defrosted you, messing up her words many times and confusing the r with w.

-It was the cutest thing watching this five year old at best trying to melt her ice, her chubby hands resting on the iceberg as her nose scrunched up in concentration. 

-Eventually the ice melted and you were set free, rubbing your arms for some warmth as you looked at the child on your balcony more closely. 

- “I’m so sorry miss, I didn’t see you!!”

- “Well you were falling from the sky so I find it logical.”

-The little girl fidgeted with her fingers looking around in pure confusion, her lower lip trembling at the unfamiliar scenery in front of her. 

-Despite the clear panic in her gaze she held herself together, dawning a poker face soon after and looking at you straight in the eyes, her gaze feeling awfully familiar. 

- “I’m Rei. Nice to meet you.”

-She extended her hand and you were taken aback from her manners and the fact that you were being owned by a toddler. 

-Taking her small hand in yours you shake it and lead her inside, placing her on your bed and sitting across from her on your chair. 

-You stared at each other for a solid five minutes before you broke the silence with some basic questions. 

-How old she was, how she got here, where are her parents.

- “A kid got his quirk and things got out of hand. But my daddy will know what to do!! He’s a pro hero.”

- “Oh what’s his hero name? Maybe I can take you to him.”

- “Icyhot, he has an agency in the city but I don’t know how to get there.”

-At the sound of that name you were confused again. 

-Icyhot is Bakugou’s way of mocking Todoroki, your long time crush, and as far as you know there is no hero with that name,

-As you looked at the girl again you saw some similarities with Shouto.

-The hair and the poker face along with her quirk and some of her mannerisms scream Shouto.

-Even though her hair was the same color as his, she looked like you when you were around her age.

-Pushing your confusion in the back of your mind you looked at her again. 

- “Is you daddy Todoroki Shouto?”

-You wished that your first time referring to Shouto as daddy would be under him other circumstances. 

- “Yes!! Do you know him??”

-Oh you knew him alright.

-Nodding you sat up and extended your hand to the little girl, who grabbed it with no hesitation, and led her out of your room.

-And so the mad hunt for Todoroki began.

-Along the way Rei would tell you all kinds of stuff and share funny situations that her and her twin sister got themselves into. 

-Apperantly, Rei had a twin sister Ren and a younger sister who was recently added to the family, Ru. 

-You had been running around the school grounds for like an hour and you could feel Rei getting tired as she slowed down after a while. 

-She didn’t complain though. she just kept talking about her family and how her mom stayed at home for the last few weeks. 

-She was the cutest thing you have seen in a fat while and you could say that you were more than jealous of her mother, whoever she was.

-As you rounded a corner your eye caught sight of a head with vibrant red and white hair.

-And there stood Todoroki in all his glory holding a little girl of his own in his arms, this one with snow white hair.

-The moment Rei saw them she made a mad sprint and literally tackled both of them to the ground, the twins hugging each other like they weren’t suffocating Shouto. 

-You rushed to them, kneeling beside Shouto and prying the twins off of him, giving him a weak smile as you helped him up. 

-As you two stood there, the twins looked at you and something clicked.

-Both of them smiled to themselves and hugged you, nuzzling into yor side as Todoroki stared at you. 

-You all agreed to go to Aizawa or Recovery Girl to see how to get them back home.

-As you made your way to Aizawa’s office the twins were whispering to each other not as quietly as they thought. 

- “Mommy is really pretty.”

- “Yeah and daddy has that smile on his face.”

-You both became a blushing mess unbeknownst to them.

-You sure as hell had a lot to talk about after this. 

-And you’d finally get to call him daddy. 

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@brattyquirks​ , @the-arcana-fan-fic​

[absconditum-imaginaerum]

Hyunjae | Vulnerable Words | 18.7K Genre | Fluff, Angst, Mutual Pining Notes | Female!Reader x The Boyz Hyunjae, Post College AU. Mentions of alcohol, threats, unhealthy relationships, cursing.  A whole shared brain written piece of work; Rainah and I wrote such eerily similar stories without the other’s knowledge, and here’s my rendition. This is a work of fiction, and any depictions of actions, behaviors, thoughts, and personalities of characters used in this story do not reflect reality.  Summary |  Hyunjae’s been gone for six years, leaving his family and friends behind to escape some painful feelings. Once returning, he realizes that those six years did nothing to help his feelings, and after running into you again, he’s convinced they’ll never go away, and that you’ve felt the same way all along.

Hyunjae hadn’t spent a summer vacation—or any vacation for that matter—in his hometown since leaving for college. He couldn’t place exactly what drew him back, but his parents were ecstatic when he arrived with a suitcase in hand and a shy expression on his face, hoping he still had somewhere to stay, even unannounced, with them. There was an air about his hometown that felt like a sea breeze on his face, like a breath of fresh air, a familiarity he couldn’t seem to find anywhere else.  

His mother welcomed him with open arms, always thrilled to see her little boy, especially when she was never quite sure when she would see him again outside their visits to him. A fresh face he was surprised, but happy, to see was his older sister’s. She gave him a warm smile, waiting for her turn to embrace him after finally getting past their mother.

“You’ve been gone so long, you know,” she said to him. An explanation was queued in his throat transitorily just to hum in response, but for a moment just being welcomed by his family was calming.

“I always have classes in the summer and winter, and it’s a long way for a couple of days,” he explained. His father knew his ambitions, always studying extra hard at school, and was always encouraged to join extracurriculars or take more classes if he could—so he did.

“So, then, what made you take this summer off?” she asked.

It was an inevitable question he knew would be asked, but no matter how many times he thought to himself about the reason, he couldn’t come up with one other than he felt like he should, like he wanted to, like something was calling him back. Unable to answer, he shrugged it off before trekking up the stairs of a house he once called his.

Hyunjae got settled into his old room. Most of the things he didn’t take to college or didn’t ask to be kept were gone, and his bed was a full instead of a twin now, which must have meant that they used his room for guests—which he now was. For a brief moment, he sat on his bed, taking in the reality of actually being back in his hometown and seeing his family for the first time outside of FaceTime in a while. All the trinkets and pictures he’d asked his mom to save glimmered and glowered at him—maybe it was time to go through them to see what he wanted to get rid of. He reached over and gently plucked a silver frame from the dresser which encased a picture of himself and a girl he knew from a long time ago: his childhood best friend.  

Hyunjae thought about you often, about what you were doing, if school had treated you well and how your family was— you both were that type of friends, the type that was close with the other’s family, the type whose families were basically your own.  After moving away, he’d thought about you a lot through college in many lights; the good and the bad.

It was late enough in the evening that fifteen minutes into feeling nostalgic about his old life and friendships made it to dinner time. He was almost startled by the way his mom softly knocked on the frame of his door to alert him that dinner was ready, and although he didn’t feel overly hungry, he wouldn’t refuse mom’s homemade cooking or dare not sit down with them at the very least.  

The evening wasn’t eventful, mostly just catching his family up on what life has been like for the time he’d been away, and similarly asked about things going on around there—about how much it had changed and become more accommodating to the younger crowd and how things had shifted around and all of the infrastructure that had been built. It was so much busier than he’d last remembered, with new shopping strips of immaculate and fingerprint-less glass storefronts with fancy chrome polished doors and neon signs that lit up the night; new bars and restaurants popping up in more populated areas he’d only glazed over while in the back of a ride-share on the way to his parent’s home.  

His family stayed up much later than they had back before he left for college—he only knew because it was unusual for him to be tired before the rest of them, but when he took a peek at the clock, registering quarter to twelve, he was surprised.

“You’ve had a long day of travels, you don’t have to stay up for us,” Hyunjae’s mother commented, resting a hand against her son’s shoulder to bring him back to life, somewhat, as he was dozing off a bit in the corner of the couch. After moving to get up he gave her a soft smile, bid his family goodnight, and headed back to his room.  

The bed and sheets were different, but somehow the way they slid over his body, the cool sheets meeting the warmth of his skin, something about it felt like home. Maybe it was the familiarity of the shape of his room, of the same furniture in the same spots, some trinkets still here and there he had fond memories of, or the comfort of the pillows that he sunk into like a sack of bricks. Maybe he really just was that tired from traveling and the somewhat mental exhaustion of being back and still not understanding what brought him here that any old bed may have felt like this. Despite that, he couldn’t help but glance over to the picture he was hanging on to previously. You both had just graduated high school in the picture, hanging on each other with playful smiles donning your caps and gowns. He wondered what you looked like now because he knew he looked quite a bit different.

Then he began to wonder if you ever thought about him, about how once he left for college the two of you quickly stopped talking... And now that he was thinking about it, he wondered if the number in his phone was even still your number.

Audibly sighing, he rolled onto his side to face away from the dresser from which that photograph was glowering at him, or so it felt. He closed his eyes and pressed his head deep into the pillow, tucking the sheets under his arm so just enough chill of the air conditioning would make it comfortable and somehow, despite his racing thoughts, he fell asleep.  

Three days of summer ‘vacation’ went by agonizingly slowly, but he’d gotten the opportunity to look around some new shops that had popped up around the area with his sister before he was looking at your number in his contacts. Was it even worth reaching out to you? Would you even want to see him? Surely if he was having these feelings, there was a chance that maybe you were feeling them, too. So, as he sat across a bistro table from his sister after ordering lunch, his finger hovered over the message button before typing something quickly so he couldn’t change his mind.

An immediate notification came back from his service provider, notifying him that the number he had messaged was no longer in service, but that didn’t seem to ease his tension any as he looked back at the message with a displeased expression—shockingly upset in a way even he couldn’t understand.  

“Who are you secretly texting under the table?” Hyunjae’s sister asked, not even remotely distracted with her food enough to not notice.

Hyunjae sighed, there was no reason to lie—it didn’t even really matter at this point, all hopes of him contacting you had been thwarted by the fact that you’d changed your number who even knew how long ago.

“An old friend from a long time ago, but their number is disconnected,” he replied with a sigh and all but tossed his phone against the rustic wood table, finally turning to his flavored tea for the first sip since it had arrived, and already their food was there. “I haven’t seen her since we both left for separated colleges… I figured if I was going to be here, it might be worth seeing her if she was still around.”

She looked at him for a moment; one name clicking in her mind right away and without thinking blurted it out. Hyunjae turned his gaze away from his plate, trying to wrangle his appetite, and up to his sister. Your name almost hurt him to speak out loud, but his look only confirmed his sister’s suspicions.

“Her family still lives around the corner, their old house…” she trailed off, trying not to step on any toes if there were toes to be stepped on, “I’m sure her mom would like to see you, she asks about you a lot.”

“Mom never told me that,” Hyunjae replied, appetite completely out the window that his point even if he picked around at the side of fruit on his plate.

“At the very least, you might be able to ease yourself about it.”  

So, after a few more days of hanging around at home, helping his mom with some shopping, and exploring his some-what forgotten town with his sister, he pulled on a light jacket after dinner and announced he was going for a walk. His sister gave him a knowing look, almost promising she wouldn’t say where he was going as he stepped into his shoes and left out the front door. The way to your house was emblazoned in his mind, he knew it like the back of his hand—it was close and he couldn’t even count the number of times he’d been there over the years.

The yard was the same, littered with beautiful flowers as it always had been—your mother had a knack for gardening. All the flora was nicely groomed while the outside lights illuminated the walk-way a pale yellow color that glowed in the twilight air.  He approached the door, a tight knot in his stomach; he hadn’t even planned anything to say to you, if you happened to be there, which almost made him turn back if he hadn’t already pressed the bell, listening to it chime loudly through the house before a quiet voice called back.

Hyunjae shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he listened to the locks turn before the door opened to a woman he was so familiar with, a woman who didn’t look a day older than when he’d last seen her at his high school graduation. A soft smile pulled at his lips, and his eyes softened just looking at her.  She smiled back, although there was a glint in her eyes that told him that she wasn’t quite sure who he was.

“Can I help you?” she asked politely.

Hyunjae’s smile faded a bit, but not enough to drop from his face.

“I’m here to see my second family, after being gone for six years,” he replied gently, hoping that was enough.

She shook her head as her gaze cast away from him, which inevitably resulted in the smile dropping from Hyunjae’s face.

“Six years pass and your son from another family doesn’t even call you mom anymore,” she teased him as her eyes came back up to meet his disappointed gaze. “You’ve gotten so tall over the years, Hyunjae.”

His smile struggled to come back, and all he knew was the warmth of her embrace as she stepped just outside the door to wrap her arms around him. “I ask about you all the time, your mother always tells me how busy you’ve been and that you don’t even come to visit them.”

Somehow it made him feel guiltier coming from your mom than his own mom—maybe that was because his dad was always chirping in the background about studying hard, about how they’d always be there for him to come back when he was ready. His hands slowly pulled out of his pockets to embrace her back with words caught in his throat, a poor excuse of an explanation about why he hadn’t come back. It didn’t matter, the thought of you loomed in the back of his mind like a bad dream, and, as if her intuition could still reach him…

“She’s out at work tonight. Would you like me to let her know you dropped by?”

Now he was really on the spot. He could feel a shiver shoot down his spine and he thought about just asking for your phone number, but that felt like too much of a hassle. His hands shook a bit, and he was sure your mom could hear the way his heart raged against the cage of his chest just trying to come up with a response to a simple yes or no question.

“Yes, please,” he finally blurted, but it sounded unsure, there was no conviction. She reeled back to get a good look at his face, to see the nerves all over it, to see the frustration knitted in his brow.

“She asks me about you, which is half the reason I ask about you. When your mom said you never come around for holidays—”

“I wish she’d called me,” he interrupted; but did he mean it?

“You both were busy! She didn’t want to bother you—if you weren’t coming home for vacation, she figured you were doing other things. I’ll let her know you stopped by, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear that you’re in visiting for a bit.”

Hyunjae slowly nodded and allowed your mom to return inside and bid him goodnight before he was turning away on autopilot. A million things were running through his mind—the most important seemed to be what would he say to you when he finally did see you again for the first time? He couldn’t even come up with something good to say even on the spot with you potentially answering the door to your childhood home. For certain he knew that he would be standing there, looking like a fool, stuttering for quite some time—he had no doubt you’d just look at him with that same patient look whenever he couldn’t come up with the right words for you.  

After returning, he didn’t have too much to say as he headed up to his room, the same thoughts cycling his mind like a cropped film reel, but it wasn’t distracting enough to stop him from grabbing that same silver-framed photo of the two of you and plopped on his bed to look at it, hoping it would inspire some things to say.

At least he’d have three days before seeing you, finally, but it was fairly unexpected. His family was just getting ready to sit down to eat when there was a knock on the door. As the youngest and spryest, Hyunjae stood from the table to allow his family to start eating, but they were just as curious. An awkwardness loomed the moment his eyes met yours after tugging the door open; of course, he didn’t recognize you, really—it had been a good chunk of time since he last saw you.

“Sorry, maybe I’m at the wrong house,” you tried, a plate of baked goods in your hands as you looked back at Hyunjae before taking a step back to look at the address. There was a screech of a chair across the floor as it was being pushed out, followed by another one before the doorway was crowded by his sister and mother who greeted you enthusiastically. It didn’t take long for you to come to the ultimate conclusion.

Your eyes shot back to Hyunjae’s, who was still looking at you despite all of the commotion coming from around him which inevitably pushed him out of the way of the doorway. Somehow the plate was coaxed out of your hand with a million questions being asked about it and you were being tugged into the house with insistence that you join them for dinner. You couldn’t answer, your gaze remained locked with Hyunjae until the both of them realized that he was your primary focus, and quickly the chatter stopped and silence took over again.

“Well, aren’t you going to say something to her?” his sister asked, prompting him to come somewhat back to life and he shook his head, swallowing hard, but still nothing was in there to say—he wasn’t sure what to say, so he settled with your name.  There was a burning within your face that you couldn’t contain, and couldn’t help the way your eyes trailed away from his face.

“Hyunjae… it’s been so long, I didn’t even recognize you,” you finally said, but still didn’t feel comfortable just yet looking back up at him.

Hyunjae swallowed the knot in his throat, and after some prompting from his sister in the background, finally found something good to say.

“Would you… would you please stay for dinner with us?” he asked. You could feel the nerves in the shakiness of his voice, and in the half-step he took towards you which you could only see because you were looking at his feet. “There’s plenty, and you’re not a bother, and… to be honest, I tried messaging you the other day, but I don’t have your number anymore and I went to your mom’s and—”

“I’ll stay,” you replied, finally finding the heart to look up at him with a soft genuine smile. You could hear his sister and mom behind you, but still, you were focused on the grown-up boy in front of you, who had grown so tall since you’d last seen him—you weren’t even heighted anymore. Hyunjae pulled out your chair at the table and got you a plate and some utensils. Naturally, he placed you between him and his sister where you usually sat when you stayed with them for dinner when you were younger.

Conversation ensued quickly between you and the rest of Hyunjae’s family since you were still far more familiar with them. You settled in next to Hyunjae again, and although there was a lot to talk about, a lot to catch up on between the two of you, you enjoyed the fact that the rest of the family was breaking the awkwardness and allowing you and Hyunjae to chime in when appropriate.

The conversation was mostly about you, about school, about how life had been since leaving for college since you and Hyunjae had pretty much broken contact by the end of the first semester. Honestly, it broke both your hearts a little bit, and you could feel the stinging of those same pieces even now. Hyunjae told you what your mom said, about you not wanting to call him, and all of the subsequent lack of communication that led to your complete separation. Conversation seemed to flow a bit more freely between the two of you again, deep somewhere there was an understanding about the hurt that the split caused the both of you. Unfortunately, after that, dinner went quickly and although it wasn’t getting too late, you felt like you needed to go.

“Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Lee, inviting me in so unannounced,” you began, and then addressed Hyunjae’s sister and then Hyunjae.

“It’s always a pleasure to have you over, dear,” Mrs. Lee commented with that same full smile she always had. She always made you feel like a part of the family, like her own daughter.

“Let me walk you home,” Hyunjae offered.

“It’s not far,” you reminded him.

“It’s late and I don’t want you to go by yourself,” he insisted.  

He could see the fight in your eyes, the same fight from the number of years ago when he’d say the same thing, when he’d walk you home no matter how much you insisted it wasn’t necessary. The way you dug in was noticeable, preparing to stand your ground against him because, who was he to be so concerned as someone who left? And maybe that was the wrong mindset to have about him because you could feel, even in the way he looked at you, that he still cared for you.

Hyunjae gave you that look where his gaze got a little more tender and there was an almost unnoticeable raise of his brows and a head flick towards the door. It had you swallowing hard, barely even noticing the silence before it was interrupted.

“Please, Hyunjae will walk you home! It’s safer that way!” Hyunjae’s sister chimed in and took a hold of your arm to bring you back to earth. You looked at her, blinking a few times before reluctantly nodding. She gave you a tight squeeze, reminding you how good it was to see you and to not be a stranger because she would always be around and Hyunjae was home for the whole summer.  

Out of old habit, Hyunjae extended his elbow to you, and, to avoid being overly awkward, you took it, but not without looking up at him questioningly as he was pulling you out of the door. You walked slowly side by side once getting off the initial porch of his parent’s home, and he reached over to cup over your hand to keep it from slipping away.

“If you don’t mind too much…” he trailed off, asking you to keep your hand around his arm as he escorted you to your home. He didn’t look at you, even when you looked up at him. It was okay, though, because you could hear something in his voice that pained you a bit, so you tightened your grip around his bicep as you moseyed along the sidewalk. The street lamps provided dim light, barely enough to see the cracks in the slabs of concrete. Admittedly, you felt better that he was walking you home anyway—ever since all of the development in the area, it somehow felt less safe year after year that you’d come home for the summer or winter.  

Hyunjae was silent the entirety of the walk; the only noise he did make was an occasional rough exhale of a somewhat held breath, and in the off chance that you attempted to sneak a peek of him from the corner of your eye you could see his chest contract with that exhale. Then, you were under the familiar light of your home’s porch before you were ready. You knew the walk was only a couple of blocks, but you’d hoped there was more time with the pace at which you were walking. There was so much stuck in your throat that you wanted to say, so much that probably wouldn’t ever come out unless he spoke first; but it looked like there was little to no intention.  

You could feel his bicep flex under your hand, his whole body tensing up next to you as he took another rickety breath. With your eyes still cast down at the ground, you turned your head to him before your gaze fluttered up his chest to his throat and eventually his face; he had gotten so much taller since leaving. The numbers of your address next to it seemed to scrutinize him before he swallowed hard. Hyunjae carefully peeled your hand away from his arm and held onto it as he helped you up the step onto your actual porch landing.

“Hyunjae,” you tried as you turned to face him—leaving in complete silence seemed incomprehensible, unimaginable.

“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly, but his gaze was still cast to the side of you. “I guess just actually seeing you, actually sitting down with you at the table with my family like old times just…opened wounds I didn’t know were there…”

The tone in his voice and the look in his distant gaze was like putting salt in the wounds you knew were there, you knew had been there for years. It took a few moments of silence, but his eyes eventually found yours. He looked at you with a tenderness you’d never seen out of him before, and of course, over six years there was a lot of growing and a lot of changes, but this particular look put knots in your stomach, unlike anything you had ever felt before.

“I think if we’re going to do any mending, that’s a talk we need to have,” you answered, finally noticing the way his hand lingered in yours, the way it had been for the last few moments that you hadn’t registered his fingers playing with yours.

The moment his gaze turned away from yours again, you took a step forward and your hand left his to turn his chin back towards you. “That means you can’t run away again,” you reminded him, as if his first departure away to college was him running away in the first place.

He nodded in your soft grip, but you could see the way his brow ached to draw together.

“Go home, sleep on it, get the right words… we’ll talk,” you told him, hands both dropping back to your sides.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but this time you weren’t sure what for. Just as you were about to turn towards your door to leave him, he took you around the middle and dragged you into him, hulling you up against his firm chest as his arms tightened against you. Initially, you were surprised. The audacity, but also the guts it took to pull you into a hug when he was stumbling over his words like a dancer with two left feet. Your hands ghosted up his arms, slowly feeling his frame—tall and warm against your own—before your arms draped across his shoulders. Your head was turned to the side, pressed against his collar turned inwards towards the center, and, much to your own surprised, you relished the hug like home. This felt akin to the hug he gave you before you both departed to your separate cities, vowing that he would maintain contact which quickly disintegrated. Honestly, it had tears pricking at your eyes like you were saying goodbye all over again, but also releasing the gates on the emotions you’d stowed away for all those years with no thoughts that he’d ever come back.

His breathing was now even more noticeably rickety with your head pressed up against his chest. A few more times he apologized, still for reasons you weren’t aware of, and squeezed you even tighter for just a moment longer before he was finally releasing you.

“I’ll wait until you’re inside,” he said as you stepped back from him, and even still he wouldn’t look right at you.

“Go home safely,” you replied, stepping backward until your back unceremoniously hit your front door. You were pawing at the handle, watching him wait for you until you finally popped the door to let yourself inside. “Goodnight, Hyunjae,” you added.

“Goodnight,” he replied, and your gaze finally met his before you turned to close him away from you.

--

Hyunjae spent the next couple of days mulling over your brief conversation about a conversation that still was yet to be had. It was up to him to find you when he was ready; obviously, he had a lot to say to you which would undoubtedly be coupled with a bit of stumbling around for the correct words, no matter how many days he had to think about it.  

At least, he attempted to think about it. He slowly kicked his way down the river-front walkway to the dock where you used to play around as kids. The river-front was full of all kinds of neat little local mom and pop shops that gave life to the town, especially when the sun was setting in spring or fall when it gleamed off the river just right and an array of purples and oranges and all the colors in between painted the sky so beautifully. It used to be an empty area, abandoned commercially with the docks left to be perfect ground to play pretend as kids.

He remembered the dock fondly as he stepped off the concrete path and onto the surprisingly preserved wooden boards that looked like they had been sanded and re-varnished recently. Maybe the dock was still in use for smaller boats, or maybe those people who owned the river-front stores kept it looking nice for tourism purposes. Either way, he was happy, because that meant he had to worry less about splinters.

The tide was out, so there was plenty of room for Hyunjae to dangle his legs off the side of the dock as he took a seat, looking out to the glittering seawater which was reflecting the aforementioned sunset colors. He recalled all the fond memories he had of this particular dock with you—it was where you spent most of your time together playing pirates and other silly little kids games and remembered one time very vividly when he was roughhousing a little too much and you ended up tumbling off the dock into the water. He was lucky his older sister was there to pull you out—you were maybe six or seven at the time; he remembered how bad he felt, how many times he profusely apologized and the way you smiled about it, laughed about it even and gave him a hard time for being too concerned. Looking back on it, he wouldn’t have changed anything.

Incessantly he gnawed at his bottom lip, doing a little more thinking of the way things used to be and less thinking about what he would say to you when the inevitable conversation came. Maybe he’d benefit from playing through his memories, and he would have continued to think of them if there wasn’t an iced drink being shaken right next to his ear.

He jumped, a bit startled by the sound, and looked over to a stout iced coffee being handed to him and followed the arm up to your face, where you smiled at him jovially with the straw of your own coffee comfortable between your lips.

“Did you know I would be here?” he asked you and tenderly took the coffee from you and scooted over to make a bit of room for you to sit next to him. You plopped down, hanging your legs off the side of the dock the same way his were for a moment, examining your coffee as you stirred it.

“I had a hunch… and then I stopped by your house,” you told him, implying that they had told you that he went for a walk, but how many places could he possibly go in a city that wasn’t his anymore.

“I’m not ready to have the talk,” he replied quickly as to not get your hopes up about it.

“That’s okay,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about that, we can talk about anything. Or we don’t have to talk at all.”

“But you bought me a coffee—”

“I could see you from the shop,” you laughed, referencing the river-front shop maybe fifty yards away.

Hyunjae just nodded, still too nervous to even look at you again since taking the coffee from you in the first place. He hadn’t even tasted it, just continued to spin the ice around the clear plastic cup as condensation built up on its sides before finally mustering the courage to thank you for the coffee.

A few moments of silence passed--if he didn’t have anything to say, that was fine, but you wouldn’t be the one to force conversation as you kicked your feet back and forth and continued to sip on your coffee. You found the nerves fluttering around in your stomach were also making it hard to look at him, which probably benefitted him anyway.

You wouldn’t, and couldn’t, blame him for being closed off, and gave him a pass for a couple of days ago, the affection and openness after the first time seeing you; the well of emotions was hard to ignore especially when the two of you used to be so close. But now that he had a few days to settle in, a few days to think about that… a different tune was expected. The imminent conversation that loomed in the background of both your minds (perhaps at the forefront of his) was only exacerbating the awkwardness you stewed in.

“Do you want me to go?” you asked after a moment; you had, after all, been the one to come second. It was his dock if he wanted it.

“No, I’m sorry. A million things are running through my mind, and I’m just trying to not say something stupid,” he replied, and finally, the blood rushing through him gave him enough adrenaline, faux confidence, to turn his head just enough to peer at you from the corner of his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to make this trip so hard on you—”

“It’s not you, it’s me. It’s one hundred percent me, and that’s the part I’m grappling the hardest with. I just…” He sighed, taking a moment to compose himself as he ran his free hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead just to let it flutter back into place. “You must hate me, for treating you the way I did. For never bothering to check in with you, or even come back. For just leaving you behind like you were nothing.”

His words stung, indubitably. Although that was the fact of the matter, you’d always tried to make excuses for him, but when he gave it to you in total plainness, you understood his feelings a bit better.

“I was afraid to go, and part of me felt like I would be better off if I just… forgot about here and everything with it.” He paused for a moment, biting that bottom lip harder than ever before, and stifled a growl deep in his throat when he finally clenched his teeth together. “I’m sorry, for being such a… freaking jerk!” His voice raised volume at the end of his sentence, emphasizing the way he assumed you felt about him because that was how he felt about him.  “There’s so much more I want to say to you but I just don’t… I don’t have the right words yet.”

He took a deep swig of his coffee to try to cool himself off after winding himself up, but it was mostly so he’d shut up before saying anything else harmful because he could already feel the shift in your aura that wasn’t so jovial anymore. Admittedly, his words clawed at the metaphorical stitch job over your wounds, pulling hard at the threads that closed them up, and you could taste a bit of that initial pain resurfacing. Emotionally, you didn’t want to have that coming conversation, but logically you knew that if you were going to heal completely about each other that it was entirely necessary.    

“Thank you for being vulnerable with me,” you finally said after a few moments of silence. You knew how much it took to get just even that out, the amount of pride he undoubtedly had to push aside to admit fault in the first place. The fact that he openly admitted he was afraid was somehow unlike the Hyunjae you used to know.  

He couldn’t even look at you again and took another sip of his coffee to effectively polish off the small cup before he discarded it to the side you sat on. Gingerly, you collected it intending to throw it away when you left, guessing it would be before him. The silence that loomed between you had you able to hear the way his fingernails scratched against the fresh varnish of the dock in frustration.

“Why are you even sitting here with me? I wouldn’t even have the patience to talk to me until it was time to hear me grovel at your feet about what a piece of shit I was and how I don’t even deserve you to still be in my life anyway and that it was foolish of me to even go to your house, to begin with, and—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, maneuvering both cups to one hand somehow just so you could set your now free hand down on top of his to squeeze it.  

“But I just—”

“Hyunjae, stop!” you pleaded, and he’d finally turned to look you in the eye, entirely, for the first time since you sat down. “You’re not a piece of shit—”

“Only that could possibly do to you what I did; a spineless and weak little—”

“Enough!” you begged—now he was just making you angry, but only because you were hurt with the way he beat himself up harder than you ever would; that was something you found familiar about him.  “You know I don’t think that!”

“Don’t sit here and lie to my face like this,” he almost growled. “I know what I did to you, and I would hate me—”

“Great, but you’re not me,” you fired back with matched ferocity, and so you exchanged your look between his eyes, noting the way they shimmered amber reflecting the sunset light off the water, noting the way they looked at you with such intensity, while trying to stave the tears that were pushing against his waterline. There was a bubbling against your throat, words you knew you didn’t want to say that burned like wildfire. You continued to switch between his eyes, knowing the things queued weren’t going to help the situation in any way and so, to avoid saying something you knew you’d regret, and since you knew he wouldn’t stop pushing you, you pushed up from the dock and took his empty plastic cup with you to leave him with the burn of your hand on top of his and that distinct lack of your gaze into his eyes.

Then, and only then, did the tears that threatened have room to fall. His nails scraped against the dock even harder as he clenched his fist, still able to feel the warmth of your hand on top of his as he stared through the ghost of your presence. His jaw was tight, and his tears were hot—they were angry, frustrated, discontent but not with you. The wounds were deeper than he thought, still more tender than he thought, and all that led him to a harsh conclusion—the final talk would be even worse hell than he initially imagined.  

__

A few days away from each other allowed for a bit of cooling off. Hyunjae drafted a few notes of things he wanted to say to you but often scrapped them, knowing that it would sound ingenuous if he was reading off a cue card. Several crumpled half sheets of paper filled his trashcan, a sight that annoyed him even as he lay on his bed with his eyes closed, knowing he needed to get something to stick. It was already two weeks into summer break and while there was plenty of break left, the sooner you had this talk, the sooner he would stop feeling like complete garbage for being in the same town as you.

That’s really what it was; initially, it felt so good to see you again—although you’d changed a lot in six years, the familiar presence made home feel a lot more comfortable. But the more he settled in, the more he thought about it—thought about what you were feeling, thought about how you made him feel, thought about everything that went down before he said what he imagined was his last goodbye and quite frankly, for as much as he cherished and cared about you, the goodbye was sub-par to shit. And he knew it would come crashing down, that comforting euphoria of having you close to him again when those fateful words exited your mouth: that’s a talk we need to have.

He hated the feeling that was coursing through him now, touching every nerve ending he had, absolute dread. Now, he was feeling like it was a mistake to come back, although he was entitled to the town as much as you were as his family lived there also—the biggest mistake was trying to see you again.  

A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts and his eyes opened to look at it as it began to crack open. His sister had a tray with some cups and a kettle on that she was maneuvering through the door, pushing it back closed with her foot as she set the tray on the large dresser to the left. She looked at Hyunjae before noticing the pile of paper around his small garbage.

“What happened?” she asked, knowing it was something because Hyunjae seldom spent so much time in his room, plus he’d been off for a couple of days since he’d seen you at the dock.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hyunjae replied, gracefully accepting the freshly poured tea his sister was handing him.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked,” she replied—she usually didn’t let him get away with that, even since they were kids.

Hyunjae sighed and blew on his cup of tea for a moment. “Just marinating in the consequences of my colossal fuck ups,” he replied with a fake smile to the emptiness of his room, although the statement was directed at his sister.

“She doesn’t hate you, if that’s what you think,” she replied and took a seat on his bed. “She’s hurt about you; I’d be hurt about you. There’s a lot to process between the two of you right now, a bit deeper than you might expect to find. It’s awkward and tense and tough to swallow, but you have to do it if you want to salvage it. But I know she doesn’t hate you.”

He swallowed hard; he didn’t even want to look at his sister for the time being as he was having a hard time with the things she was even saying—they were true; he knew they were true. But about you not hating him? Maybe he didn’t believe that. He was slipping into his thoughts again before his phone started vibrating in his pocket. It was unusual, because seldom did anyone call anymore, and who would be calling anyway? He finagled it out of his pocket to look at the caller ID to see someone he recognized: Kevin Moon.  

Hesitantly, he swiped to answer, leaving his sister to occupy herself about his room.  

“Hello?” he muttered unconfidently.

“Hyunjae! I heard you’re finally back in town!” Kevin’s voice seemed a bit too jovial, jolting Hyunjae a bit.  

“Ahh… yeah. It’s been a minute, huh?” he inquired less enthusiastically.

“A minute! More like a lifetime; you’ve been gone for six years! Anyway enough about that; I’ve planned a get-together for a bunch of friends from back in the day! You know, our high school group! When I heard you were back, I had to invite you! You should come by, I’m sure everyone would love to see you!”

It would be rude to ask who was invited, and then decide based on that; but there was certainly a handful of people he would do better not seeing again, perhaps.  He had an answer queued in his throat, he wanted to say that he wouldn’t make it—

“You better go, you’re not doing anything and you need to get out,” his sister commented, loud enough for Kevin to hear.

The look on Hyunjae’s face dropped in an instant when Kevin confirmed that he heard and looked at his sister with daggers in his eyes.

“I’ll kill you,” he mouthed to her but she just smiled and sipped her tea. He composed himself with a deep breath before agreeing to be there and briefly negotiated the time and place and after Kevin hung up, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“There are so many people who are going to be there that I don’t want to see,” he grumbled.

“But there’s so many people who you do! Plus, people who would love to see you, and you can’t just mope around here all day, I won’t have it!” she exclaimed and took her seat back next to him. “You need to get out; sitting up here and thinking about what you’re going to say will make you age too fast. The right words will come, I promise.”

“I think you’re too confident,” Hyunjae said.

“I need to be confident for both of us,” she reminded him and filled her cup back up before leaving him with the rest of the pot in his room.

It was already late in the afternoon at that point, and Kevin’s party would be starting in a couple of hours. He sat on his bed with his legs crossed as he finished off the pot of tea, taking up another half an hour before finally deciding he would shower for the party and at least try to look more put together than he felt.  What did the extent of the old group mean? Because you were technically part of the old group; asking about you outright would be too suspicious. There would be plenty of people there to keep you both distracted from each other especially since they’d undoubtedly seen you far more, which meant it was likely he’d be engaged the whole time.

He set the tray off to the side on his desk—he’d take it back downstairs later—and grabbed some things for the shower with a sincere hope that some hot water would help clear his mind. And perhaps he spent far too much time in there, because by the time he got out and checked the clock it was already twenty minutes passed when he thought it was. He rushed through toweling his hair somewhat dry enough to comb it a certain way and hoped it would stay, tugged on a black button-up and a light wash pair of jeans before he was heading out the door, mentioning briefly to his parents that he was going to Kevin’s, a name they were familiar with, and that he’d be back later.

When Kevin answered the door, it was nothing short of a party right there. It had been a long time since any of them had seen him, so the commotion was understandable, and then an actual genuine smile broke on Hyunjae’s face as he clapped hands with his buddy who was quickly garnering the attention of the other party-goers who had also missed him.  

Hyunjae stepped through the door, a cup immediately put in his hand as he greeted all his old high school buddies amongst the dimly lit room. Kevin always knew how to set the mood of a get-together; this was no different, done up with candles and string lights that slowly faded to different soft colors with some low music in the background. There were a couple of yard games going on outside, corn hole and beer pong with tables of appetizers and coolers full of drinks of all varieties.  

“Wow, Kev, you went all out,” Hyunjae commented and reached into his pocket for his wallet to try and supplement some of the cost, but Kevin stopped him immediately.

“You’re the guest of honor; you’re the whole reason I put this thing together,” he replied and encouraged him to put his wallet back. “When I heard you were back I knew the guys would be stoked to see you. It seems like you’ve been gone a lifetime!”

Hyunjae laughed nervously and hoped that he wouldn’t be asked why he never came back to visit. It was a thought he was still grappling with; a thought he knew half the answer to but the other half was something he’d rather not visit. He had mentioned it to you out loud that day on the dock and it left a burning in his throat ever since—he couldn’t decide if it was because it was the truth or because he knew he was only telling you part of it.   Regardless, he tried to push it from his mind before taking a swig from the plastic solo cup in his hand: a hurricane tasting concoction that wasn’t quite right and a bit too strong.  

As he expected, he was fairly occupied with the swaths of conversations, always being caught by someone new he thought he’d never see again to strike up a conversation about what he was up to and so far, he’d avoided the dreaded question about not visiting. It was safe to assume that he was just caught up in things; Hyunjae was always a hard studier; school was very important.  In a fairly short time, considering the duration of Kevin’s parties typically, he’d gotten through most of the high school group who had come up to him in small circles to greet him and catch up a bit.  

For a bit, he’d been roped into a couple of games of corn hole. It was fun while it lasted, although he couldn’t say he was any good at it. It was the bonding and laughing that counted, especially when someone’s throw was particularly bad and they all laughed at each other for never playing games like this in their college days—it seemed everyone turned out to be quite studious in their time at school and spent less time at frat parties.  

When one of the rounds was finally over and Hyunjae’s drink had run dry, he found a replacement for his team and excused himself back inside the house to make something more his speed. There were a few small circles of people who seemed like they were all catching up—turned out he wasn’t the only one gone for an extended period. Hyunjae dug through a cooler for a can of coke to mix his own drink before he was overhearing some drama he probably shouldn’t have concerned himself with, but it was right around the corner from the kitchen and it sounded unwelcomed.  

“Please just leave me alone,” a voice Hyunjae recognized sounded quietly. Suddenly his desires were conflicted when could tell they were trying not to make a scene but then recognized the voice as yours. On the one hand, he figured the two of you needed a little more space, but on the other hand, was he about to just stand by and let whoever was bothering you continue to do so?

No, he couldn’t let it go, and set his cup down on the kitchen counter, and carefully rounded the corner of the wall to find you sandwiched between it and Sangyeon, someone he considered to be close friends with at one point in time. The look on your face when you finally opened your eyes to see him was nothing short of desperate, but Sangyeon had you locked in tight.  

Hyunjae wanted to verbalize his protest, but the look on your face caught his words in his throat. Instead, he stepped forward and took Sangyeon’s shoulder to pull him away from you.

“She asked you to leave her alone,” he was finally able to manage just as Sangyeon had stumbled back slightly, ready to give Hyunjae a few choice words before meeting eyes with the familiar younger male.  In less than a second flat, you’d scrambled off the wall to take Hyunjae’s arm as he protectively tucked you behind him, expecting a confrontation. Sangyeon knew the history between you and Hyunjae well.

“Dude, it’s cool,” he tried, a friendly smile on his face as he reached for you.

“Dude, it’s not cool. She asked you to leave her alone,” Hyunjae fired back, taking a step back, and subsequently stepping you back.

“Babe, just tell him—”

“I’m not your babe anymore, Sangyeon. I thought that was clear,” you spat from behind Hyunjae.  Although there was shock in his subconscious, he couldn’t let that display on his face. He kept his expression as stone-cold as possible as he glared down the older male who was gritting his teeth. It wasn’t hard to piece together the situation; you and Sangyeon used to date, you called it off and Sangyeon didn’t like it.

“I got it, Hyunjae,” Sangyeon tried again, as if trying to convince him that it was a situation he didn’t need to be a part of, but he could feel your grip tighten a little bit on his arm and he wasn’t about to abandon you—he didn’t care who to.

“How about you take a walk,” Hyunjae suggested, knowing what Sangyeon was implying. The older seemed shocked by his reply, and rightfully so. “She asked you to leave her alone; I don’t think she should have to do so again.”  

There was an uncomfortable silence that loomed between the three of you, and you could see the look in Sangyeon’s eyes that you were pretty familiar with and so tugged yourself closer to Hyunjae. The younger raised his brow, prompting for a reply or for the older to move on. It was clear Hyunjae wasn’t going to back off, especially not as he tucked you just a little bit further behind him.

“Take a walk,” Hyunjae reaffirmed, a growl on the tail of his words and he stood firm until Sangyeon growled, attempting to glare past the other male to get to you, but Hyunjae consistently stepped in his view to make sure that would not be successful.

It hurt your pride a little bit, to be rescued from your ex-boyfriend by anyone at that party, but most particularly Hyunjae who you were not expecting to see, although you were expecting him to be there—and you really weren’t anticipating him seeing that. Surely he knew, and surely he gave you a couple of moments to decide what you wanted to do as you stood against him, against his back, waiting for Sangyeon to clear out and even beyond. Hyunjae’s rhythmic breathing was soothing as he made no moves and only looked forward; he could feel the way your hand still furled into his pressed black shirt, the way your forehead lay against his shoulder blade while his hands dangled at his sides.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a few moments. He was met immediately with a tightness of his shirt, as you gripped it a little harder.  “Did he hurt you, physically?” he asked, since he could tell you probably weren’t okay, at least for the time being, and he could feel you shake your head against his shoulder.  

“Let’s sit somewhere quiet,” he suggested and waited for you for a moment before you were peeling yourself off his back. You expected he wouldn’t look at you, just lead the way through the house that he had been in more times than he could count as he led you towards the back of the house, but not before being caught by a passerby. Feeling a tug on his arm as you responded to the tug on your arm, Hyunjae jolted to a stop.

“Are you okay?” Younghoon asked you. It wasn’t so far out of reach that you be put in a position you didn’t want to be in, but Younghoon couldn’t know that you’d just been rescued from one. Before you could answer, Hyunjae looked over his shoulder at Younghoon.

“O-oh,” Younghoon stuttered. Everyone around knew about you and Hyunjae. “Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologized, soothed only by the warmth of your smile as you pushed the threatening tears further and further so that you could finally get out of there as you were pulled into a back guest room—you could tell it was a guest room because of the décor and the dust on the furnishings. Hyunjae closed the door behind you as he found the light and flicked it on, giving you space to make yourself comfortable first and he would follow after.

You took a seat on the bed, first, letting everything soak in—starting with Hyunjae and your interaction at the dock for a short time before the situation with Sangyeon, how you would manage to make it through the rest of the party without more problems whether that be between you and Sangyeon, or Hyunjae.  You watched as Hyunjae’s dark shoes made it into view in front of you as you looked down at the pristine wood flooring covered by an area rug.

The fray of your distressed jeans entertained your hands, picking at it nervously as you took a few deep breaths. There was an almost silent noise that came from him as he stuck his hands in his pockets, rolling his shoulders a bit before letting out a rickety exhale. He wasn’t sure what to say at the moment; between Sangyeon, Hyunjae’s blow up at the dock, the kind of bad terms you were on with each other.

“May I see your face?” he asked. He hadn’t seen it since the begging look in your eyes and he wanted to wash that away from his memory. Slowly, you raised your head to look up at him, but he wasn’t sure it was any better. The tears were cropped up against your waterline, tears you were desperately trying to fight off as your shaky fingers continued to pluck the threads on your jeans.

His jaw fell open, so many words queued at the front of his throat but none of them felt good enough to soothe the look on your face as you looked up at him, but also looked around him. Trying to decide if staying there or if reaching for you was the better option, he stood there with his fingers furled in his pockets. A few emotions swirled inside of him, feelings he couldn’t quell; he desperately wanted to avoid you once arriving, but the look on your face pressed firmly against his heart because he still cared deeply for you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I didn’t expect it, him, any of it. I told Kevin, he said it would be taken care of and—”

Hyunjae gathered you into the warmth of his chest, wrapping both arms tightly around you to provide you some semblance of safety as he sat to your side on the bed.

“You do not have to apologize to me; I only wish I could have helped you sooner,” he reminded you, rocking with you a little bit before he sat more squarely on the bed and tugged you to hold you more firmly, more steadily, more securely. You hid your face against his neck, and the tightening in his throat at the feel of your warm tears against his skin was incomparable.

“I’ll have a word with Kev—”

“Please don’t,” you begged. “This was supposed to be a party for you and I don’t want it to be ruined because of me, because of Sangyeon; I should have never come, I knew it was a mistake, that there was no way it could be assured,” you explained, somehow finding your way to your feet after pushing away from him.

“Don’t…” he pleaded, reaching out to take your hand as he looked up to you now as you stood before him. “Don’t say that. I’m happy you came.” He was playing with your fingers at this point, not minding that you were looking down at that instead of at him.  

“It will be getting dark soon and there will be tons of lights all over the backyard if you’ll accompany me to play some games,” he reminded you. Kevin had hosted many parties in the past with decorations just the same—twinkling multicolored lights hanging everywhere he could get them and then some to really set the mood. Hyunjae had clearly remembered how awed you were by the lights at night from the last parties you’d come to, and that in and off itself set a few butterflies free in your stomach. You looked up to him, meeting his eyes which looked at you so tenderly. It was a tough spot to be in considering, but he wasn’t about to send you back out there knowing uncertainly that Sangyeon was still looming around and would no doubt continue to cause problems if you were on your own.

He waited for your gentle nod before taking your hand fully, cupped flush against his as he guided you out of the bedroom, and shut the light off behind him to take you out to the backyard where everyone was playing games and mingling. Some conversation fell quiet as they watched you pass, others came up to speak with you more openly before he took you to a game you could play standing side by side, and he made a promise to you that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight until he knew Sangyeon was gone.

And thankfully, for both of you, the party passed pretty quickly with a handful of guests bidding farewell to Hyunjae, reiterating that it was good to see him and that he should come back and visit more often because they all missed him—you were not to be forgotten, as they all bid you farewell as well. Some whispers lingered, some sly grins and knowing gazes as they looked at the two of you, seemingly entirely blind to it.

The games had been put away as it got dark out, not even the twinkling fairy lights illuminated the backyard enough to keep the games going, but nobody seemed to mind. The fire pit was lit and a handful of folks sat around it with drinks in hand just letting the conversation flow. You were among those sitting around it, listening to the stories being shared, some about Hyunjae, but others just reminiscing about your high school times and how much some of them missed the simplicity of life back then. Sangyeon, from what you understood, had been long gone, so you felt comfortable sitting by yourself without Hyunjae’s watchful gaze as he fixed you both a drink in the kitchen before emerging with a plastic cup which was put into your line of sight in no time. You took it, looking up at him, but after his hand was emptied it continued to linger. He motioned his head out to the depths of the backyard where more lights were strung about the garden and it would give you some quiet time. Daintily, you placed your hand in his and let him lift you from the lawn chair—there was a missed beat in the conversation for a moment, but continued quickly to try and not look suspicious.

Hyunjae guided you to the exact spot at the foot of a large tree that was upending the wall that housed the backyard and disturbed some other brickwork of the nearby flower garden, but he knew a good spot where the roots dodged just enough for a plush place to sit and placed himself in it first.  You looked at him, skeptical for a minute. There was a choice of where to sit, and he looked at you with no expectations that it would be like old times, so he was a tad surprised when you planted your knees in the grass in front of him and handed over your drink for a second to situate yourself, turning and placing yourself in front of him, between the cage of his legs that bent around you, and gently leaned back into the warmth of his body before collecting your drink.

“You didn’t have—”

“I could use some familiar safety right now,” you interrupted quickly, knowing exactly what he was going to say. Besides, he brought you out there for some peace which typically came from safety and you made the choice on your own.

Hyunjae hummed and leaned back against the trunk of the tree to slouch you a little deeper. Your head rested against his shoulder as you enjoyed the coolness of the evening air, the gentle sounds of crickets and other nightlife, the glow of the galaxy beyond, and the twinkling lights in the gardens around. The only unnatural sounds were that of ice melting in your cups, disturbing your drinks when the structure changed, and the way the cups sounded being moved around. It was quiet, and for the most part, you preferred it that way, but you knew another inevitable question was coming.

“You don’t have to tell me because quite frankly it’s none of my business, but what’s your history with Sangyeon?” he finally asked you. Your cup crinkled in your hand, flimsy under your grasp for only a moment while your other hand plucked a handful of blades of grass from the ground with some quiet pops. He didn’t want to make it too obvious that he didn’t like the idea of you and Sangyeon for reasons he could go on about.

“Long story short, we got together for… reasons… albeit not good ones, and he turned out to be entirely as controlling as you witnessed. I broke it off, he didn’t like it, and heard about this party and knew I’d be here… for you…”

“You should have told me,” he whispered, his voice right above your ear and you could feel the way his jaw shifted against the side of your head.

“We weren’t exactly on great terms,” you reminded him, noting the distress of his jeans against the knee, and mindlessly to distract yourself, you fiddled with the loose strands that were fraying, easy to reach with his knees bent to enclose you. “Besides, I heard there was a chance you wouldn’t show anyway. We all kind of determined that you intentionally hadn’t visited. Not that we thought you hated us, just that you wanted to move on.”

There was a tightening around Hyunjae’s heart he hated as you spoke those words. Hearing you say it hurt in a different way than him coming to grips with it himself. His legs couldn’t help but close on you a bit, a frustrated grunt squeaking from his mouth. Not here, he thought, not now. This was not the best place to be having that conversation, but little did you know that was the conversation.

“I owe you all an explanation, truly,” he said.

“You don’t, really. You have your reasons for doing things that are your own. You don’t owe anyone anything,” you said.

“I owe it to myself, then,” he retorted, “and I want to start with you. But that’s part of the big conversation and while I know you have granted me gracious time to collect my thoughts… it’s a conversation I’d rather have without prying ears as it only concerns you and me without the speculation of anyone else.”

“Hyunjae…” you trailed off, turning your head to fight against his, fluttering at the feel of the corner of his mouth and nose against your forehead. His eyes clenched tightly, once again trying to fight off the feelings, the thoughts, trying not to repeat the day on the dock. To steel his nerves, he turned to the side and took a large swig of his drink, feeling your hand wrap against the outside of his knee to tug it against your body. If it was one thing about Hyunjae you were really in tune with, it was his emotions—you tended to feel how he felt, to understand without him having to say much—and it held true even with six years apart.

“I don’t want you to feel rushed and I won’t force the conversation, but I know you want to say a lot of things, so when you’re ready…” you uttered, nuzzling your chin under his jaw. You were pushing, unintentionally, at the seams of his packaged distress. He was doing his absolute best to be there, to be the open and comforting Hyunjae he always was to you, and that was his ultimate demise. The very concept of Sangyeon put a pit in his stomach, and it didn’t even have to be Sangyeon, it just had to be anyone that wasn’t him. But how was he supposed to tell you everything? About why he left, about the things, the feelings, he wanted to leave behind without seeming insulting to you; and then how was he to address that those same issues never went away, that seeing you for the first time even after all that time stoked the same fire, if not more so.

But back then he was just a kid, and it felt stupid, all of it. The distance hurt like hell, but after a bit it became refreshing. Each year got easier to not come back; but he missed his friends, he missed his family, he missed you, but he didn’t miss the way he bit his tongue, the way he stowed his feelings, the way he’d dare not ruin the amazing friendship you had over what he called selfishness. He wanted you to be free without his burden, which ultimately started driving his choice to leave.

He never changed; he could still feel the tip of his tongue clamped between his teeth, still feel the churning in his stomach with the attempt to put his feelings away, the lump in his throat which felt like a swollen version of his heart, a hole in his chest which the alcohol wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“I think it’s about time we head home,” Hyunjae commented after a few moments of tense silence. You were trying to understand the emotions you were feeling via Hyunjae, the way he was feeling, the sudden tenseness of his body, the closed-off disposition. “I’ll walk you,” he added, a lulled whisper in your ear.

You both made your way to your feet, discarding your cups in the kitchen after bidding everyone goodnight and thanking Kevin for the hospitality. You all lived close, the same homes from the district which put you in close walking distance. Hyunjae offered his elbow to you the way he always did, and the both of you meandered rather slowly to your home where he could drop you off. You wrapped both hands around his bicep, a million thoughts running through both of your heads, putting you in seemingly different worlds than each other while walking right next to one another.  

Needless to say, the two of you arrived at your front porch far sooner than either of you were ready. Hyunjae took your hand to help you up the step onto your landing, but the lingering way he gazed at you let you know that he was feeling the same way; that for some reason you weren’t quite ready to leave now that you were really alone. But it was already late, had to have been past midnight, and lingering on your landing could look suspicious.

Still, you turned to look at him, not so much at his face, but at his throat, at the undone button of his black shirt, at the way his throat shifted as he swallowed hard. His thumbs were hooked in his pockets as he stood as attentive as he could muster, waiting for you like he always did. You, on the other hand, fiddled with the hem of your shirt as you thought of what to say, what to do, if it would be best to just say goodnight and be on your way, or if you had something more to say.

Your gaze finally landed on his face, looking over his features. He must have been able to feel your gaze, because slowly his eyes flittered up to meet yours, glimmering in the dim porch light. With you up on the landing, the two of you were closer to the same height—you smiled, remembering how much he’d matured since you last saw him.  It seemed like the only thing that could roll off your tongue was his name, so almost silently it did so once more. You watched his gaze shift between your eyes, his feet shuffled forward to bring himself closer to the landing. Slowly, your hands came up; an innate desire to put them against him had you placing them gently on his shoulders. His breath shuttered against your face, jaw tightening as your brow furrowed a bit.

He was so close to you, your arms were entirely folded at the elbow, you could practically feel the warmth radiate off him, his face had to be no further than a couple of inches now that his eyes were peering slightly down at you and still glimmered like the galaxy captive. It took a second for you to realize that his face was sinking closer to yours, that his head tentatively tilted just as his nose brushed against yours. You took a deep breath, fingers anticipatorily furling against his shoulders as his lips fleetingly brushed yours. He waited a moment for you to object, one of his hands freeing itself from his pocket to place tenderly against your hip while your breath was caught in your throat, but when you did not attempt to move away or verbally object, he leaned in further.

It took only a second for you to fall entirely into his grasp, feet shuffling forward just a tad as he slipped his hand around your back to put your body against his; your arms slid around his neck especially as he stepped up onto the landing, and guided you backward to gingerly press you up against your front door with a few readjustments. You couldn’t quite place the mix of flavors you were tasting, but it was clouding your better judgment—many factors were in play between the kiss, the way his fingers pressed into your lower back, the way he had you arching against him, the Sangyeon panic, the alcohol, the distance, which all made the experience surreal. But you couldn’t deny the way your chest was exploding, the way your nerves were all on end, the way it felt so right after so many years.

You almost sighed, the way his tongue flicked against your bottom lip before your subconscious was pinging on the Sangyeon panic, and your arms retreated from his neck to weakly push against his shoulders. He tugged away, the tender sounds of a broken kiss ringing in your ears like a train whistle before those same warm lips were pressing soft kisses against your jaw, and only after a successful few did you find any words to push from your throat.

“Maybe don’t,” you uttered, more as a sigh as your head tilted back to quietly hit your door, “my breakup is still fresh, and we still need to talk.”

Your voice was a whisper of the wind, but still enough for him to ease off, to pull back and press his forehead against yours after noticing your eyes were closed. His hands tugged your hips into his since your hands were still flittering somewhat across the nape of his neck. Your tongue darted out to flick across your lips, remnants of rum and coke lingered before he took a whole step away from you, and that meant the protective grasp of his hands against your hips was gone as well.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered, “I’m sure I’ve been sending you strong signals all night, and when you stepped in and… your safety and your scent and your touch and charm…”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to come back,” he muttered under his breath, looking up at the cracking paint of your porch covering. He hoped it wasn’t loud enough for you to hear, but unfortunately, it was. You looked at him, queueing a couple of replies in your throat that never seemed to fit the situation and adequately explain how you felt at the same time. You waited only long enough for his gaze to cast back down to you, almost expecting you to say something, but you had twisted the knob to your door and disappeared into the darkness of your home without another word. Could you say it was the best decision? Perhaps not. But in that moment you feared that you would say something that would damage an already delicate situation. If you had just left it at the bit about the breakup and about needing to talk, he would have understood. Everything else just confirmed his fears about you; that you liked the idea of him.  He shook his head and turned to head home, ignoring the prying questions of his sister who was surprisingly still awake and, without turning a single light on, closed the door to his room and crawled into bed.

__

Hyunjae was quiet for subsequent days—too quiet, really, and under the prying and watchful eyes of his sister to look for anything to start a conversation about. Hyunjae was a brick wall. As stoic as anyone could be, almost emotionless, and that, in and of itself, was enough to break the ice about it.

“What’s turned you into a zombie?” she asked, closing the door behind her as she entered Hyunjae’s room. He was reading on the bed, but maybe he couldn’t even call it reading; it was more like his eyes were scanning the same ten sentences a hundred times, never once comprehending what any of it said only to start over from square one again. His brain was scattered, the was no arguing that. But while he thought that his scattered brain would provide him with at least some thought about how to handle the situation, there was no such luck for that either. He had become zombie-like between the lack of emotion and disregarding actions.

His eyes shifted over to her—he looked tired; dark circles around his somewhat reddened eyes, but maybe that was for a reason yet to be clear. He took a deep breath, closed his book, and turned to her.

“The same reason I left in the first place,” he replied, not anticipating that she would have an immediate response—she didn’t. She wasn’t confused, she had a pretty good idea why he left even though she never pressured him to say; he had to do what he had to do for himself and no one would stand in the way of that.

“Should I tell her you’re napping, then?” she finally said.

Those few words dropped on Hyunjae like a bomb. The gears ground in his head for a moment, trying to comprehend how incredibly dire the situation was seemingly suddenly. He blinked a couple of times.

“What?” he asked.

“Did I stutter? Do you want me to ask her to leave? She’s having tea with mom downstairs, I said I would come see if you were available since apparently you haven’t been answering your phone.”

He looked over at the device on his bed, remembering the decision he made right before he closed his eyes for the night to block your number. His heart simply couldn’t bear dealing with anything you had to say, if you did even dare attempt to contact him.

A deep sigh fell between his lips as he stared past his phone and at an undesignated imagined hole in the wall. He all but slapped his book down on his bed and dropped his face into his hands, running his fingers deep in his hair just to tug at it.

“Are you serious,�� he growled. Was it not enough, what happened? Was it not clear enough that he wanted to just disappear back into the night like he had never shown back up in the first place?

“Whatever problem you’re having with her, you need to solve it before you leave again, if that’s what you decide to do. If that means closing that book, then do it; but leaving it open is only going to hurt more,” she advised, reaching over to take one of his hands after it fell slack at his side. He looked over at her, but he could tell by the look on her face that she was serious. Not closing the back cover left the wounds wide open and he had already experienced once just how painful that could be.

There was a knock on the door, followed by his mother’s voice, and before he even had time to object the door was being pushed open, and there you stood, looking like you’d slept as much if not less than himself.

Hyunjae let out a disappointed and frustrated sigh as he rolled his eyes away, his sister gave a displeased growl while you looked directly at him. Although Hyunjae’s sister harbored no ill will towards you, she cared immensely for Hyunjae which made the situation that much harder. She couldn’t stand to see him like this, but she also didn’t know the whole story, just that it was about you as so many things had been in the past. She stood and turned to Hyunjae for a moment.

“Do what’s best for you,” she reminded him, glanced at you, and side-stepped you to bring her mother away from the situation.

“Great,” Hyunjae growled sarcastically as he turned to sit on the side of his bed and meet your gaze to the best of his ability. Slowly you stepped in, closing the door behind you. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into a blowout, but you knew things were rough between the two of you, and you could tell he was suffering just as much as you were about the entire thing.

“Hyunjae,” you greeted, not pleasantly nor firmly. He could see the quiver in your jaw just saying his name, but that didn’t stave off his fiery feelings in the slightest.

He muttered your name back, a greeting somewhat in return.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me—”

“Then why are you here?” he asked, almost barked.

You sighed, slinking against his door. Hyunjae tended to get rough when he was wounded, like a cornered dog who had no choice but to bite back.

“Because I gave you as much time as I could but it obviously can’t wait anymore,” you replied, trying to force confidence into your voice. You needed to stand your ground with him, even if you were never particularly good at doing so.

“You’re right, I don’t want to talk to you. Not only that, but I don’t think there’s anything to talk about anymore. So, sorry you came all the way here for nothing, but I don’t have anything left to offer you,” he snapped, standing from his bed and approached the door, and you, and reached out in an attempt to tug it open.

You pressed against it harder, forcing against his pull to keep the door closed. He scoffed and looked to your face containing the most determined look you could muster since you had arrived. You glared up at him and growled his name.

“You’re pissed at me, and you have every right to be. But we spent many years being the closest of friends, and whenever we had a spat, we always worked it out. And even if things are a bit rocky right now, and it looks like I’m not your friend, I’m at least here as someone who cares so deeply about you—in whatever way you want to interpret that—to try and work through this with you, the way he always have,” you almost pleaded, but with a conviction that made it sound more like a statement for the first time since you’d arrived.

“I know you’re hurting, and I know I’m the cause of that. But to think that I’m here for any other reason than to try and make it right…” you trailed off with the shake of your head, gaze trailing away from his for only a moment, “you know me better than that. And if I know anything about you, you left for a reason, so let’s start there.”

“What is this, freakin’ honesty hour?” he asked, taking a step away from the door, almost attempting to convince you that this was ridiculous, but your reply jarred him.

“Yes, it is, that’s the whole purpose of trying to solve something, being transparent.”

“You want me to be transparent?” he almost roared.

“I want us both to be transparent, Hyunjae,” you fired back, although quite a bit calmer than him.

He paced for a moment, trying to figure out how he was going to approach this—the best way didn’t matter to him, he just wanted to express his feelings at the expense of anyone else’s feelings, because everything to that point had been at the expense of his. You stayed pressed up against his room door, watching him pace, watching him think, watching the frustration build on his face until he finally got some words out.

“The other night,” he started, pausing his pacing to look at you, “when you just let me fall into a bear trap…” He laughed, but it wasn’t because it was funny—his brow was furrowed in disbelief as he looked at you, a hurt on his face you’d never seen before. “I left because I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You swallowed hard, having a good idea what he was talking about already, but you still wanted him to say it out loud—you still wanted to have a conversation.

“Couldn’t take what, Hyunjae?” you asked delicately.

“You,” he replied, jaw clenching for a moment, fists following before he took a deep breath himself. “The way we were. How… connected we were. How open and honest and upfront we were, how deep we were,” he explained, or tried.

“And the other night is related because?”

He bit his tongue, you could see it peek out from behind his teeth before he turned his face away from you, clenching his eyes before his hands found his dresser, holding him up in a sense as he leaned into it. A few deep and rickety breaths followed as he composed himself enough to say something.

“It confirmed the fears I struggled with, suffered with, that you only liked the idea of me. Confirmed the fears that you wanted me in theory, and how strained that made my ability to maintain a friendship with you. I left because it seemed easier to forget about the feelings when you weren’t right in my face. I left because I thought it would be easier to move on. You said the other day you sent me strong signals, and you did. They were strong signals; they were wrong signals—”

“They weren’t wrong,” you interrupted, “I was torn between respecting my relationship space with Sangyeon and being elated that you were back and willing to treat me like we’d never skipped a beat,” you tried to explain in return.

He spun to face you, tears already pushed off his face. His heart hurt unbelievably, fiery but in a negative way, squeezing in his chest as he formulated his reply.

“So you think it’s cool to just lead me on? To not only let me but encourage me to kiss you on your front porch and lean into it like you welcomed it, just to hit me with all that shit about my safety, my scent, my charm and in essentially the same breath tell me that I’ve crossed a line? I’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re just the one I won’t ever get over, but you don’t have to make it so damn hard for me the one time I do decide to come back!”

“Hyunjae—”

“Do not. Do not try to charm me with those pretty little eyes, with the sweet way you say my name—” he growled, unable to finish before you had something to say.

“I’m not!” you retaliated. “I am not trying to get out of what I did! I am not trying to discredit how you feel or play the victim in any way. I know my approach wasn’t great, and I will be the first to admit that. But if we could go back and redo the situation… if you hadn’t kissed me, I probably would have kissed you,” you expressed to him.

“I don’t like the idea of you, Hyunjae. I’ve always liked you. And when you left, it took me a few years to get in the game to try and move on… I got with Sangyeon because it felt, in the beginning, like he understood me. Like he empathized with my loss, which was you, and I had an aching, a pit that needed to be filled that I thought he could fill.  But that pit is shaped exactly like you, and I realized that nothing else will ever fit it properly…”

You tried so hard to maintain your resolve, but the way getting all of that off your chest made you feel in combination with the look on Hyunjae’s face, you weren’t sure how long you would last. You couldn’t tell if he thought you were lying or not.

“What a jerk I’ve been to you,” you continued, “This is why I get so mad about you saying stuff like how mean you’ve been to me; like you think I thought you left without a purpose. I didn’t know, exactly, your purpose at the time, but I knew it was one you needed for yourself. So, why would I think you were a jerk for that? When you didn’t reach out, I saw the signs like freeway billboards—”

“I loved you,” he interjected. “And I was so scared that if I had admitted that to you, that I would lose you, but I ended up losing you anyway because I was too weak to swallow the fact that I did love you. That I do love you. That those six years away did nothing to help me move on,” he replied, pouring it all out for you, finally saying what he needed to say for so many years and a weight lifted off his chest, but it didn’t stop the squeezing feeling.

“I got too worried trying to respect the relationship with a man who never respected me; who took advantage of me knowing I was vulnerable without you; and if I had come to that conclusion on the landing that night… Hyunjae, I may have not let you leave. It was like my favorite coffee on a cold day, like the sun on my skin in the late spring, like the spray of the water on the dock—nothing has ever felt more like home.”

Hyunjae let out a deep sigh, blinking back the tears that pushed at the outer corners of his eyes as he slipped to the floor. His gaze looked out but didn’t find anything in particular, clouded anyway. He took a moment to reflect on the way the hardwood panels felt underneath his fingers, the way breath filled his lungs, the way his eyes stung, the sound of you sliding down to the floor yourself against his room door.

There wasn’t much else that needed to be said, so the two of you sat across the floor from each other in relative silence for quite a few lingering moments. The both of you were trying to regulate your breathing, trying to quench the fire that burned deep down.

It took a moment, but he crawled across the floor of his room to sit up in the corner of the wall and the door and asked for your hand only to coax you over to him, between his legs to rest up against him as he settled his chin on your shoulder. From then, it was a matter of time and healing, and he wanted to spend the initial healing time with you in his arms in the quiet of his room as the both of you processed everything that was said.

All that could be heard throughout the room was perhaps gentle breathing, silently the continued refusal of tears that stung both your eyes. Hyunjae dug his face in the crook of your neck, even if you were turned away from him; he didn’t want you to see it. But even if you couldn’t see it, you could feel the way his rickety breath fell across your shoulder, the way he trembled against your back, the warmth of his tears against your skin and even though things were on the mend, that, in and of itself, stung like hell.

Hyunjae’s pain had always been your pain, and vice versa—his happiness, his burdens, his struggles, his successes and triumphs; they had always been shared because of your dynamic, and it was clear things weren’t about to change. It had always been a love the both of you were too afraid to admit because there was a very real chance it would drive you away from each other.

“I love you, Hyunjae…” you muttered. It was the only reassuring thing you hadn’t said.

His arms tightened around you, fingers digging deeper into the fabric of your shirt that furled in his grasp. There was a mumble into your skin—you didn’t hear him, but you had a decent idea what it consisted of.

It was contemptuous to even consider moving for a bit. Relishing each other’s presence seemed cathartic, to a point; it felt as though as you sat there with each other, after laying it all on the table, that the healing was somewhat fortified. As the time passed, your touches against each other were different, softer in a way, more calculated, and genuine. Millions of things were still running through each other’s minds—even though there was nothing left to say, you both were over thinkers to the core, so that occupied most of the silence between you. At least, until there was a knock on Hyunjae’s door. He hadn’t realized the time, or how much time had passed, but he helped you to your feet before tugging the door open to reveal his sister.

“We’re getting ready for dinner, you’re welcome to stay…” she hesitated, noting the look on both your faces. Your eyes were noticeably still red and swollen—you never had a quick recovery after crying, even if it was somewhat tame. Hyunjae was still pushing at his own tears, too.

“Thank you, but I should get going,” you replied, a sad smile on your face as you looked to Hyunjae who understood that not only would it be incredibly awkward, but that you both probably needed some time alone with your thoughts. He nodded encouragingly, agreeing with your conclusion before he began ushering you through his door. After following his sister down the stairs, you quietly greeted both of their parents, thanked them for the offer for dinner, and had Hyunjae show you out.

“I’ll walk you,” he asserted, but you quickly shook your head.

“Your dinner is hot, you should stay; it’s still light, I’ll be okay on my own,” you replied as you turned to face him, to look up into his somewhat swollen eyes, to catch the fleeting tremble of his lip as he looked back at you. Before he could nod in reluctant agreement, you reached out to take his hand and gently squeeze it. You used that hand to pull him closer to you, the half a step distance you needed to stand high on your toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek; it was sticky but you didn’t care. His eyes fell closed as you lingered there for a moment then you drifted back to the flats of your feet, gave his hand another squeeze, stepped off the landing of his house, and turned down the street. A few trickling moments passed before his sister collected him at the door, encouraging him back inside to try and eat something even if he wasn’t hungry. Surely, he would hear from you soon enough.

It was a weird type of limbo to be in, unknowing when it was appropriate to contact the other, and sheepishly waiting around for the other to do the dirty work. This inevitably led to another few days of silence, but that didn’t stop you from calling up Younghoon—your new closest friend since your falling out with Hyunjae—to ask for his advice, since he never seemed to give it unsolicited.

Nervously, you turned your iced coffee between your hands as you sat across the café table from him. Patiently, he continued to wait for you, never forcing a word out of you or a move of any kind. When you had called him up saying that you wanted to talk to him about Hyunjae, especially considering the look he gave you at Kevin’s party after Hyunjae had helped you out of a precarious situation, he was eager to meet with you—not because he had dirt or anything to spill, but because he knew, somewhere in there, you agonized over Hyunjae; sometimes in unhealthy ways. You had always been friends with Younghoon, so he was the natural next best to Hyunjae; expressly since he’d watched your friendship at its peak and watched the way it splintered into nothing—admittedly, he was the only one with your actual best interest in mind, particularly when you concluded that Hyunjae’s absence crushed you in ways you couldn’t explain initially.

“Sorry,” you muttered, a rickety diffident to your voice with another shaky exhale.

“I’m in no rush, you know I’m here for you,” he replied. “Why don’t we start with this; you mumbled hurriedly over the phone about how things had been solved, and then unsolved,” he prompted, giving you somewhere to jump off from since it appeared you were having a hard time finding somewhere to start.

A tough swallow broke down your throat as you thought about the instance in which he reached for your arm and asked if you were okay, your hand laced with Hyunjae’s.

“About that—he caught Sangyeon being… well, Sangyeon,” you answered. Part of you figured Younghoon would be offended you didn’t tell him about the incident with Sangyeon, and you honestly weren’t even positive he’d been seen by Younghoon or Kevin for that matter.

Younghoon’s eyes perked a little bit; the situation was a little different now that he knew you had been in Sangyeon’s clutches only to be rescued by Hyunjae. It seemed right, in all fairness.

“We’d fought a couple of days before—not really a fight, a small disagreement, and weren’t on the best of terms. It was a weird situation that went from bad to good to bad all in one evening…” You had to trail off, thinking about the events as they replayed in your mind. But it was salvaged now, right? You blew off your steam with each other and found a ground with equal footing, but things were still awkward.

“The point is, I’m here because we finally had a talk, and while it wasn’t really talking and more like yelling at each other and then breaking down into mutually pathetic messes, I came to ask you what you think is the best way to approach him now. We haven’t talked in a couple of days, I think we’re both kind of hinging on the other being the first to reach out for contact,” you explained.

Younghoon sat in contemplation for a moment. There was no correct answer to your question, and he couldn’t even say there was one approach that was better than the other. Even something as simple as texting him to ask how he was doing could be enough to open the door, so he didn’t take long to come up with that to say to you.

“I suppose you think it’s weird to just text him to ask how he is.” Apparently, the situation was a little more complicated in your eyes than he initially thought.

“I had six years to do that,” you replied, your plastic cup crinkling under the pressure of your fingers furling against it.

“Of course,” he answered, understanding the situation a little better. “To be completely honest with you, you both have overcome a lot already, if you consider. Between the frontages, the distance, the coming back together, and all the drama that came with all that, you both have managed to sort something positive out, right? I’m sure there’s nothing you could say that would have a negative impact short of telling him you wish he’d leave again, and I doubt you’re going to say that.”

A slight laugh escaped from your throat, but it could have been mistaken as a scoff just as much. It was ridiculous for Younghoon to even suggest that, because he was completely right—only if you became possessed would you consider saying that to him.

“I know it feels like a delicate situation, but I’m positive it’s far less delicate than screaming at him in the middle of his bedroom about how dumb you both were being after re-shattering his still splintered heart.”

“Ouch,” you responded, even if it was true, and it was never like Younghoon to pull punches when you needed to hear something. And he had always known of Hyunjae’s feelings for you, so that didn’t make this conversation any less brutal.

“Also, I’m not saying it will be instantaneous, but I’m also certain that deep in there he’s elated to have you back, too, and in the state he’d battled with himself about for some time. You might be best off asking to meet on neutral turf so there’s no awkward looming—I know how nosey Hyunjae’s sister can be,” Younghoon laughed and took a swig of his coffee, relaxing back into his chair which, inevitable, had you relaxing back into yours, letting his words sink in as you picked up your phone to type a message to Hyunjae about meeting up the next day.

--

The late evening sun glimmered off the water, stretching left and right as far as you could see. The soft ripples of the water catching the light to produce a river of diamonds while your legs hung off the edge of the dock. Your phone was tucked deep in your pocket, an unread message about Hyunjae being on his way to meet you sat in your notifications bar. There was an unexplainable tightening in your chest, but maybe it was just because it was the first time you were getting to see him after the tipping point.  An unreasonable voice called from the back of your mind to back out; that it had already been a rough time with him, maybe it was better to just let it go—a voice you had to really try to push away.  

Another rigid breath—how many had come in the last few days, you would have a hard time counting—as you steeled your nerves, clutching the edge of the dock as you tried to wait patiently, at least until a small cup jingled with ice from the side of your face. Hesitantly, you looked over and slowly followed the arm up to a familiar face. He smiled delicately, his lips barely tugging at the corners to produce it, but it was detectable by your trained eyes.

“Hi,” he almost whispered as you faltered a bit in taking the flavored iced tea from him; it was a little late in the evening to be having coffee—not that it had ever stopped you in the past. He took a seat next to you, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the dock next to yours. To say that he was sitting comfortably close was an understatement; his hip was effectively pressed up next to yours, just like old times, but there was a new sense of comfort that washed over you from the fact, even if the nerves were bundling in your throat.

“Hi,” you choked back, eyes never breaking their contact with his being even when he settled. “I’m going to apologize in advance if this is extremely awkward.”

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you,” he laughed, looking out over the water to notice the same sea of diamonds you’d been entertaining yourself with since you took a place on the dock yourself. “Can’t say I’ve been through this before, so it’s definitely new and rocky terrain.”

“You seem jovial, nonetheless,” you replied.

“One of us has to try to keep a good spirit,” he joked, elbowing you in the side, reminding you that you weren’t exactly the mood-maker of your duo, before he took a swig of his tea. You followed suit, uttering your gratitude, before forcing a bit of confidence into your bones. All of the times you’d sat on the dock with him in the past in this very setting came rushing back to your immediate memory, and with it, all the times you’d begged to loop your arm around his. So, with a bit of hesitancy, you moved your tea to your hand opposite of him and swiftly stuck your hand under the crevice between his arm and torso to wrap your hand around his bicep, additionally leaning your head against his shoulder to avoid the imminent gaze that would no doubt scout your embarrassed features in half a second flat. Hyunjae did, in fact, turn to look, a more noticeable smile tugging at his face as he pulled that arm tighter to his body, acknowledging your courageous display of affection, and gave you the satisfaction of relishing it without some signature sassy remark from him as he leaned his head against yours.

The way you clenched your hand against his bicep was indicative of looking for something to say, scrapping any ideas you had in your head a handful of times. He knew you weren’t the best with words, especially after having a fight—that’s what he’d call it, because it kind of was—but that didn’t stop him from waiting for you to say anything. Instead, you opted to nudge your head up a little bit, wedging it between his head and shoulder a little further before a somewhat exasperated noise slipped from between your lips.

Hyunjae discarded his tea gently against the finished dock, turning his full attention to you. His slender fingers gently prodded against your jaw, prompting you to lift your head from his shoulder. It was always like him to take control of the situation, and to be completely honest, you had banked on that for this entire meeting. You were pleased to look at him per his will, tilting your chin up so that his face could slip by yours and press a lingering kiss against your cheek, the way you had to his at the end of your last meeting. Perhaps the most important meeting.

Again, you wanted to speak with nothing really to say. Your eyes fluttered at the feel of his supple lips against your cheek and remained closed when his delicate fingers flittered away from your jaw and his hand cupped against the back of your neck, craning up only slightly to place another kiss against your forehead, and another against your cheek—you had to chuckle, nervously nipping at your bottom lip as you tried to read his intentions.

“Just let me marinate in the fact that I have dreamed about this for eight years, and I’m finally here,” he mumbled against your skin, knowing that you were laughing at him.

“I’m laughing at you because you keep missing,” you replied, eyes fluttering open to meet his as he pulled back. The gentle smiles fell from both your faces as your gaze teetered between each other’s eyes, noting their glimmer, their depth, the absolutely homey look you gave each other. Your breaths mingled just a few inches from each other between the two of you before you noted the way his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips—in nervousness or preparation, you couldn’t tell. When he noticed the way your eyes fell past his nose, he couldn’t help but speak up.

“Is that so?” he asked nearly inaudibly.

“As a matter of fact…” you trailed off, anticipating the way one of his hands reached across you to help you settle your tea against the dock so you could place that hand wherever you’d like as his mouth descended on yours, delicately eclipsing yours in a softly meshed kiss that felt worlds different from the one on the landing of your home after Kevin’s party. It felt like a plug had been pulled, and all the tension that culminated between the two of you was swirling away into the abyss as you melted into his touch, gingerly cupping your cheek until his lips broke away. A silent protest came in the form of an exasperated exhale, that shy smile returning to your lips noting he hadn’t pulled far enough away to be out of reach, so you took it upon yourself to lean in for another quick peck.

“Somewhere deep in the back of my mind,” he began, waiting for a moment for your eyes to open so he could look into them once more, “I had always hoped I would get to kiss you on this very dock with the sun going down and glimmering against the water, exactly the way it is.”

You placed your hand down over his, which was pinning you somewhat against the dock as he rotated to face you. The look on your face was enough, he didn’t really need a reply; everything that needed to be said had already been said. Even still, you had something for him.

“Me, too,” you replied, leaning up to nuzzle your nose against his for just a moment, “so, I’m glad you came back to figure it out. I needed you more than anything.”

Hyunjae chuckled; the thoughts he had been battling with for so long about why he was returning all suddenly made sense, like a message in the stars, a secret nudge from the universe telling him there would be something special about him coming back, pushing through the dread he had cut with your hometown. He remembered letting it marinade for a week after the idea first crossed his mind. Maybe he was feeling homesick, admittedly he missed his parents and his sister, but he could tell there was something more.

“Something in the vast infinity delivered your call,” he whispered to you.

“I owe whatever mystical message that led you back to me a great debt.”

“Why don’t you just say you missed me?” he teased.

“The way I missed you is beyond anything I could string together with words, Hyunjae,” you replied, pushing him back a little bit to put him physically on the defensive for only a second before he took the opportunity to pull you across his lap so he could have you as close as possible.

“And showing you feels a little more vulnerable; maybe we needed that all along, instead of putting on that tough face for each other,” you told him, your smile saying something different as your hand gingerly stroked through the tresses of hair on the back of his neck, tilting his head to look at you before your foreheads met, eyes fluttered closed once more.

A moment relishing this closeness was much needed and long-awaited.  

[firelxdykatara]

You’re doing a LoK rewrite, correct? Would be really interested in hearing how you plan on fixing Suyin’s character and the Lin-Suyin conflict because……. oh boy. Man there’s a lot to unpack there. This is what happens when we don’t let Toph just raise her fucking kids for the sake of pushing a stupid as hell narrative about working women and single motherhood.

I am indeed!

In... you know, the way I'm doing most of my big potential projects, in that I have a folder with some documents that have plot notes and... some day I may actually get full, finished fics out of them (h2o AU is in there, as is my voltron!atla fusion AU, and uhhhh my book 3 atla rewrite, and a few other things), so... but I will say that the docs I have for my LoK rewrite so far amount to roughly 4.2k words of just Plot and Character Notes, which may some day turn into words of Story, hopefully.

ANYWAY, POINT IS: yes, this exists, and I have Many Many Thoughts.

Including how the Gaang kids would shake out! Cause I know I'm doing Zutara, and maybe Tokka???? Although I don't wanna just leave Suki out either... maybe a throuple??? Or Sukka having an amicable breakup before Sokka and Toph get together--maybe she already has Lin by then, and Sokka helps support her through the grief of losing Kanto???? Idk honestly, I haven't actually figured any of that out definitively yet except that Aang was perfectly happy to settle down with an Air Acolyte from one of the rebuilt temples because he grew up and out of his crush on Katara pretty easily once he hit puberty and matured a bit.

UHHH none of which is actually an answer to your question, because it's a valid one! Which is why I've been sitting on this a while (10 days I'm so sorry) bc I haven't made any solid decisions but I've been letting it percolate around my head a bit. And the more I think about it, the more I really like the Sukka -> Tokka idea (and I don't want to kill off Suki since the kids all deserve their awesome Kyoshi warrior auntie in their lives, and also I want a Sukka kid to be besties with Iara [zuko and katara's youngest] so maybe she gets with someone else after she and Sokka split? I could be talked into Ty Lee/Suki actually, the more I think about it....), but obviously having a stable father figure and a Toph who is... not what LoK made her out to be will dramatically change the Beifong family dynamic.

That said, I think I actually have a solution. (I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do.) Toph has Lin with Kanto--and he passes away when Lin is two or three, which is why she has very few memories of her father. (Although none of this 'she doesn't even know his name until she's 50+ cause Toph didn't tell her daughters about their fathers' bullshit.) Sokka is there for her through it all (all of the gaang is, of course, but you know that it sometimes just hits different when it's someone you're also starting to fall in love with, especially when there are older and much more deeply buried feelings there that are now resurfacing, because at least in my version Toph was deeply in love with Sokka when they were teenagers, but he was in love with Suki and she also loved Suki so she didn't want to mess up anything about their family or the group dynamics by making her feelings anyone else's problem), they fall in love, get married and have Suyin.

(Sokka may jokingly refer to it as a shotgun wedding, but the truth is he wanted to propose well before he found out she was pregnant, his attempts just kept getting messed up in increasingly comedic fashion.)

Throughout all of this, Republic City has been established, Sokka is Chancellor, Toph is something of a defacto police chief--mostly because, at the time, no one else was willing to volunteer, and she jokingly offered to whip the law enforcement, but unfortunately everyone else at the meeting took her seriously. However, she is also the founder of the probending league, and basically her feelings about law enforcement are complicated and she actively discouraged her kids from joining the force which is part of why Lin did. How else do you have a teen rebel phase with a parent like Toph? (Which, in this instance, means tough and firm but fair, with a 'you break it, it's up to you to fix it' attitude and very little desire to actually control her daughters and their behavior.)

Ah, but here's the rub.

Suyin is ten years old when Sokka dies, and Lin is sixteen. I'm not sure how he's killed--maybe by Yakone, to tie it into my plans for Amon and book 1. (Note that I'm not sure when the Yakone bloodbending trial happened in canon, but it doesn't matter. The timeline I'm gonna build will be completely different post-comet, and I'll eventually write it all down so that I can keep things straight.) Which would incidentally provide excellent means of having Katara have a very personal stake in the Amon conflict, and perhaps color the fight between him and Iara, but I'm getting off track. And I think Sokka being killed by Yakone, and Toph being unable to protect or save him, or deliver her own brand of justice to avenge him (because Aang is there to stop her and.... shit probably got ugly, I suspect she didn't talk to Aang for at least twenty years after Sokka's death--and this isn't to say I think Toph is particularly violent or murderous, but in that moment, she absolutely wanted to kill the man with her bare hands, and however much she may have regretted it afterwards, she took a very long time to forgive Aang for stopping her in the first place), is what results in Toph stepping down as police chief.

She didn't withdraw from her daughters or fuck off into the swamp or anything (words cannot express how much I hate that part of her canon history), but she did grieve for a very long time. Lin, meanwhile, felt like it was up to her to keep her family together, while also feeling a desperate need to... prove herself, I think. And because her mother was so adamant that she not join the police force, that's exactly what she does. I think Lin completely misread Toph's intentions, too, and believed that the discouragement was because her mother didn't think she had what it takes, when in reality I think Toph was scared of Lin losing herself in the job like she herself had begun to, and eventually coming up on something she couldn't change or fix and making the same mistakes she had.

(I think Toph and Lin have communication issues largely because they are both headstrong and willful, but where Toph thought she was giving her daughters the room they would need to make their own way, what Lin desperately craved was direction and she felt like that was something her mother simply couldn't understand.)

Suyin, on the other hand, fell in with a bad crowd like in canon. I think that what she desperately needed was attention, similar to Lin craving direction, and Toph was trying so hard not to be her own parents that she went a little too far in the other direction and Suyin began to feel like it didn't matter what she did, her mom wouldn't care, or get angry, or discipline her, or anything. Lin and Suyin butted heads a lot growing up, too, especially after Sokka's death, because Lin tried to rein in her sister's behavior and this was met with resistance and derision because Suyin felt like Lin was trying to be both mom and dad and she was neither but her big sister would never admit to being just as lost as she was and it made her furious.

So when Suyin is sixteen, and Lin is twenty-two and new to the force, The Big Rift happens. Lin catches Suyin and her gang, tries to apprehend her, gets a scar on her face in the ensuing conflict. But instead of abusing her power and sending her problem child off to her mother before fucking off to the swamp to avoid the consequences of her actions, Toph tries to actually fix things. Suyin cools her heels in prison for a while, because she was paralyzed by guilt at the time when she hurt her sister (a few inches lower and she could have slit her throat), and was still there when Lin's backup arrived.

Uhhhhhhhhhhh..... I'm so sorry I rambled for so long, BUT THE UPSHOT IS: I think Suyin learned a bit about culpability and taking responsibility for her own actions, Toph realized that her daughters had different needs than she did at their age (and I think a lot of the problem was that grief clouded her own ability to connect with her daughters, and in trying to not be her own parents she lost sight of how to be the parent her own daughters needed), and Lin, I think, had to realize that she had never fully processed the loss of not one but two fathers and had turned to her job in order to avoid actually confronting the grief that had overshadowed her childhood.

However, she did not forgive Suyin, at least not right away--and she wasn't forced or expected to. Suyin understood that she crossed a serious line, she took her lumps and did her time, and no one shamed Lin for her anger. I think, as a result, she had less reason to hold onto that bitterness, and perhaps by the time the story actually begins, she and Suyin are on much better terms, though I haven't worked it out exactly yet.

UHHH yeah I went on for days lmao. All of this is subject to change, too, depending on the needs of the story whenever I get around to actually writing it all down, BUT these are my initial thoughts, at least.

[letterstoseven]

Killer Queen [Ch. 2]

✏︎ pairing: klaus mikaelson x reader, elijah mikaelson x reader, kol mikaelson x reader

✏︎ summary: y/n Silvius –– daughter of the Alpha of the most respected and powerful pack of the first were-witches (werewolf + witch). She needs to find the remaining Crescent Wolf Pack members as the Elders are planning to reunite the seven packs, namely: Crescent Wolf Pack, Northern Wolves Pack, Moon Shine Pack, River Pack, Lycan Blood Pack, Midnight Stone Pack and the Malraux Pack. On her journey, she met the family whom the witches and werewolves warned her about, The Mikaelson Family.

✏︎ a/n: this is sooooo long but this is when y/n talks about her departure to their hometown and her arrival in New Orleans! thank you so much for taking your time to read chapter 1! here's the chapter 2 :)

✏︎ Chapters: one, two, three, four, five

After the meeting with the Elders, you and your family went back to your own homes. "I'm going to pack and then take a sleep. Good night, Mom. Good night, Dad." You hugged them both tightly. "Dear [y/n], come here. Your dad and I would like to talk to you before you start your journey in finding one of the Crescent Wolf Pack members."

You walked towards your fireplace and sat on the floor in front of them, "What's up?" Your dad, Adoff Silvius, sat near you and told you something about New Orleans, while your mom, Leah Silvius, got the book of the Ancient History of the Wolves.

"Back when I was on my way looking for the Moonstone, I befriended some of the folks in New Orleans. His name is Alaric Saltzman, a history professor. Of course, he never knew me. The people in Mystic Falls thought that the wolves are not real. However, when one of the Lockwoods, Tyler, I think, activated his curse by killing a person, one of them saw it and that's when they know that legends are real. Eventually, I was able to lure the young Lockwood and got the Moonstone before Aiden's dad." He smiled at you. However, that smile faltered when he started talking about New Orleans.

"Okay, Dad. Now, what does your story have to do with my journey to find the Crescent Wolf Packs?" You looked at them both. Your mom, opened the book of the Ancient Wolf Pack, and said, "You, my dear, will be the one who's going to unite the packs. One of my friends in the New Orleans, Vincent, has told me that it would be best if you try to not do any magic and even use your wolf side. The guy running the town, Marcel Gerard, is known for killing the wolves and the witches if they did not abide by his rules." You are saddened by this fact. You know that it's hard for the witches and werewolves to leave their territory as it is where their powers reside. "You have to find the brother of the Hybrid, Elijah Mikaelson. One of the Original Vampires. He can help you. My guy, Vincent, has told me that he can be reasoned out to." You are now starting to get curious about these Originals, the Mikaelsons.

"Back in the day, the wolves are powerful because they are united. The seven packs and us, being the leader of the seven packs, was able to maintain peace between packs. While the Crescent Wolf Packs needed to kill someone to activate their wolf side. While us, coming from the Sanguine Pack, the curse chooses us if we are deemed worthy. That's why there are some members of the family of the Sanguine Pack that until now, at their 30s, 40s and 50s, still not able to activate their werewolf side." Your dad explained that the reason why some of the packs left is because of a misunderstanding. Some packs thought that they don’t need the help of the other pack. Now, your mom is the one who's going to tell you about the situation in the New Orleans.

"If they are the Original Vampires, aren't I walking in a sacred place and might as well get killed in the process?!" You are in distress. All these ancient history talks are now spiraling in your head. "The Mikaelsons, as the Elders would tell us, are the dangerous, and well dysfunctional family in the world. Legend says that they will do anything for their family even if it means killing or sacrificing their loved ones." Now you are scared. "However, they are the only chance you have to find one of the Crescent Wolf Pack members as his brother is a Hybrid. The hybrid's name is Niklaus Mikaelson. He's got a witch sister too, Freya Mikaelson."

You thought to yourself, Thank God at least there's a witch in the family.

"Now, dear. Your father and I loves you so much. As much as we wanted to help you, this is part of the process. We believe in you. Our daughter, our heir. You are the most powerful were-witch of your generation. And in no doubt, you will be the first female Alpha of the pack." Your parents hugged and kissed you. Well, being an only child has its pros sometimes. You said your good night to them.

You started packing your grimoires, your weapons, a weapon that is made from the ancient white oak stake - legend says that this ancient white oak stake is the best wood to kill or to protect yourself from. That's why ever since you started learning how to create a weapon, you used them to create one.

The next day, you and Aiden trained in combat and learned protection spells as the next day, both of you will start your journey to become an Alpha. "How are you doing, [Y/N]?" He sat beside you. "You know, Aiden, when we were young we've always been competing side to side. Now that it has come to this, I now wish for us to stay alive in the process. Good lord, vampires out there? Crazy." He drank the water and said to you, "If I become the Alpha, you can still be an Alpha. The wife of the Alpha. Marry me, [Y/N]." You chuckled and said, "Aiden! You're like one of my closest friends in the pack! Never gonna happen!" Aiden smirked, "I know that's going to be your answer. Just stay safe and stay alive, okay? Either of us has only one goal: to protect the Sanguine Pack and unite the seven packs." Both of you hugged and went on your homes for the night. Tomorrow is the day when both of you are going to each of your tasks.

___________________

Today's the day. Before you and Aiden left the pack, the Elders gave you two a powerful protection spell to ensure your safety and whatever happens, the two of you will come back alive. And as for you, your mom made you drink vervain. She said that it’ll help you to not be compelled by the vampires. You bid your good-byes to your friends and family. Your parents told you that if it is an emergency, then you'll have to call them as soon as possible. Your pack's residing in the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia. You thought to yourself that this is going to be a long ride.

____________________

After almost 12 hours of driving, you now reached New Orleans. As soon as you stepped in the New Orleans, you can see that the city’s full of life. Different to the place you’ve grown up to. In the mountains, the life is chill. But in this city, it’s also chill but there’s always a buzz everywhere you go.

Before you go out of the car, you messaged your mom and told her that you just got in the city. After checking in the Palace Royal Hotel, as you were walking, you saw a voodoo shop called Jardin Gris. You went inside and asked for some herbs, and a girl named Sabine asked you, “Are you a witch?” You were shocked by the question, “Uh, no! I was just passing by. I’m a tourist! I’m [y/n]!” Sabine looked at you from head to toe, “Well, I thought you were a witch. You were wearing some kind of necklace that only a person who knows a powerful witch can have. And I can sense it too.” You are now literally breaking into sweats when a blonde girl walked in, “Hey, witch!” You heard the girl talk to Sabine. You tried not to pry but when Sabine asked the girl, “To what do I owe the displeasure, Mikaelson?” You asked yourself, a Mikaelson? The Original Vampire?

“I need a camphor. Now.” You saw the lady Mikaelson wait for the witch. She’s gorgeous, you thought to yourself. You realized that like you werewolves, they’re blending in the humans too. When she went out, you sneakily followed her but you when you went out, she’s gone.

You continued your tour around the place. The night time came and the city’s been livelier than ever. Parties and drinking everywhere. You went inside the bar called, Rousseau’s. A bartender girl named Tanya, greeted you, “Ohhh, new face. What’s up?” You seated at one of the stools in front of her, “[y/n]. Just a tourist from Virginia. Scotch please, thanks.”

After awhile, you feel yourself getting drunk. Someone sat beside you, the blonde girl from the shop and a guy wearing a tailored suit. The guy looked expensive, you thought to yourself.

You heard them talking about a girl named Sophie and about a bunch of witches are plotting against their brother. “We need a witch to do an unlinking spell, Rebekah. It is for the safety of our niece and Hayley.” The girl beside him replied, “We need a witch to do the spell. And after that, I’m leaving this bloody town, Elijah.” You thought to yourself, “Unlinking spell? That’s so basic.” You weren’t sure why but the two of them stared at you, and you asked them, “What?” The guy asked you, “Do we know you? It seems like you’re new in town.” They waited for your response, “What’s with this town and that they keep on asking me if I am new in town?” The blonde girl smirked, “I like her.” However, before they speak again, you left them.

While you were walking, the alcohol starts to leave your system. You sat in one of the bench at Jackson Square. The square is empty, however, there are three vampires who started hovering around you.

“What the hell? What do you want?” One of them started leaning towards you, it looks like they are trying to compel you. But you said to them, “Freaks!” You ran as much as you can but due to you not being on your werewolf form, you cannot ran as fast as you can. “Stop right there! How can you not be compelled? Damn it! Vervain’s in your system. I thought we’ll have a dinner for tonight.” You thought that they were walking away, however, you used magic and you snapped their heads. You ran back in your hotel, and you pray that no one knew that you just practiced magic.

After showering, you heard a knock on your door, you recognize him as the guy from the bar. “Hello, I believe this is yours.” He was holding your necklace, you checked your neck, and you realized that it’s gone. “Give that to me!” The man won’t give it to you. “You realize that you just used magic in New Orleans where a vampire, who runs the town, forbids the use of magic.” You stopped trying to get the necklace and told him, “I just did. I’ll be damned if I let those psycho blood suckers kill me.” The man in front of you gave your necklace, however, there’s a catch. “I’ll give this to you but you need to help me break a link between two persons.” You furrowed your eyebrows and said, “And who are you? Why would I help you then?”

“I’m Elijah Mikaelson, and I need your help.”

[dontcallmecarrie]

Replying to the commenters of this post [heads up for angst]:

To @kine-iende, who said:​

hot damn. if "our" justin was a mom-friend in their home-universe, here people would start questioning if justin was in secret a very motherly scrull or something (and be fine with it ^^). but yeah, love the trope too. was it "for the want of a nail" or "through a mirrorm darkly"? well, contrast and a what could have been would be lovely. feel enabled, whenever you want to write this :)

.

I am not very familiar with the concept of Skrulls [...iirc, that’s something introduced in Captain Marvel, which I have yet to get around to], but yeah, that tracks. Assuming it’s a thing they know to look for, though, because here Justin’s being themself is the biggest and most obvious way to establish that they are not canon!Justin.

Sure, they’re identical physically, but the moment either Justin opens his mouth, the jig’s up. 

As is, not five minutes into this strange hellscape where their oldest rival looked at them with no small amount of disdain in his eyes at first, Justin had already managed to charm their way out of holding and into a very relaxed “we’ll keep an eye on him” Avengers custody. 

Well, on paper at least— in reality, most of the team doesn’t really give a damn one way or another, whereas Tony starts out morbidly curious as to just how different NHDD!Justin is to the one he’s used to dealing with, and ends up getting a concentrated dose of All The Feels™ because the moment NHDD!Justin realized this Tony had a metric buttload of undiagnosed-and-constantly-belittled mental health issues and a support system that was equal parts duct tape and caffeine, he went “oh, so this universe is the Hell Timeline, okay, makes sense :) :) :) dammit Ivan you’d better fix this stat”. 

In retrospect, Justin’s not sure when exactly the horror show started; if it was the absolute lack of concern or care the Avengers had for their Tony, or the minute they noticed the gauntness in his face. Maybe the tension between Iron Man and Captain America, or the obvious bravado this Tony used– and the fact that none of the others so much as noticed.

All Justin knows is, a version of someone they care about is hurting, hurting badly and has been for a long time now, and that’s more than enough for them to go “oh, okay, mine now”.

.

For his part, Tony has no idea what the hell’s going on. The non-annoying Justin Hammer who crash-landed an Avengers debrief is...something else, and he’s torn between shock, pleasant surprise, and no small amount of existential angst and jealousy because in the span of a few hours, Tony’s had a brief taste of what some other version of him had for a lifetime, and...

Tony’s not sure how he feels about it. He’s a genius, he can wrap his head around string theory and all that good stuff, but numbers are one thing, having to live with the fact that somewhere out there, a version of him grew up with someone so unfailingly kind and supportive and—Tony can’t think of a better word for it than nurturing— and, in the span of seconds, had been able to call him out on his bullshit and seemed to instinctively push him to be better but not in the demanding way his father or the rest of the world had—

If he thinks about it too long, it makes him want to cry, just a little. Somewhere out there was a Tony who’d been enough for someone, who had never been asked to change himself, who’d been pushed up instead of repeatedly torn down and he didn’t know how to deal. 

He’d thought having a non-annoying Justin around would be funny.

This was not, it was goddamn distressing is what it was, because Tony hadn’t even known it was a possibility but now he is acutely aware of the fact that he got stuck with his Justin— the human embodiment of one of those yappy dogs who nipped at people’s heels thinking they were so tough, despite not being able to back it up.

This Justin was, uh, not that. Tony wasn’t sure if he was always like this, or if it was only with him because he shared a face with someone Justin cared about, but... was he always this much of a mom friend? And where’d that granola bar even come from, anyway? Not that he minded, it was a nice change of pace, but really?

...Tony was really going to miss him, once they figured out a way to send him back home.

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To the commenter who said:

Stephanie isn’t a canon character, is she? Because if not, NHDD!Justin might be able to pull off a “the birth of my little sister awakened my previously deeply buried parental instincts” to explain his whole… [gestures uselessly].

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Technically, she could be, in that Justin Hammer has a sister and nephew in canon [according to the wiki and a deleted scene, apparently]. I chose to make her a younger sibling in NHDD, to really emphasize the ‘reincarnated with shitty memory’ aspect of this AU. Specifically, while it’s never specified, Justin’s past life was...not great, and part of it was the fact that their younger sibling was sick. 

With what, they don’t remember anymore, but sick enough that they know health isn’t something to take for granted; sick enough that towards the end, they remember their parents had to choose between paying hospital bills and electricity, remember going to bed hungry because meds were expensive and their next paycheck wasn’t until Friday.

...suffice it is to say, there’s a reason Justin’s so protective of those he cares about, even if his memories faded a bit on the specifics as time went by.

To be fair, canon!Justin also cares for his sister and nephew; it’s just that NHDD!Justin acted more like a third parent than a sibling, once Stephanie was born. 

Bear in mind that canon!Justin’s situation is very different than NHDD!Justin’s, because canon!Justin was basically set up to fail from the start as a normal kid who was constantly compared to a child prodigy two years younger than him and terrible parents. While NHDD!Justin’s situation is similar on the surface, the difference is they’re literally a reincarnated OC, with all the baggage that entails.

Maybe, if their second life hadn’t been surrounded by adults with A+ Parenting Skills, 0/10 Do Not Recommend, their issues and traumas from last time wouldn’t have been exacerbated. If they’d been born to a regular family, Justin would’ve been a good kid but nothing special, and their memories of a past life would’ve faded away by the time they hit puberty.

But instead, they were born to the Hammer family, and proceeded to be put through the wringer. 

Which is bad enough, and meant they immediately started leaning hard on everything from their past life because these people wouldn’t know good parenting if it bit them on the nose, but...then Justin’s little sister was born, which immediately kick-started every older sibling instinct they’d ever had because last time they’d been responsible for their younger sibling’s health and safety and you can probably see where this is going. 

aka yes, some of Justin’s behaviors could arguably be called trauma responses and/or coping mechanisms and it’s something I only realized as I was writing this, and no, this AU was not supposed to be this messed up

Justin’s responsibility, their willingness to deal with shitty parents and do tremendous amounts of emotional labor if it helped anyone they took under their wing? That’s no accident, that’s what happens when a soul has to be the adult, has to step up because nobody else is going to. There’s a reason Justin has so much disdain for Hank Pym and Howard Stark’s immaturity, why they have so little patience for their parents as time goes on; their mental age means the older they get, the more they’re looking at the adults around them and judging them hard.

...ahem. Sorry for getting a bit off-topic, but hey, at least now you know a bit more about what’s going on inside Justin’s head!

And yeah, if he had to bs an explanation for why he’s such a mom friend, Justin’d be more than happy to point to his little sister as an excuse. So long as they know she exists, anyway; if not, he’ll just laugh it off and try to chalk it up to one of the differences between their universes.

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edit to remove the stuff that got through my nonexistent brain-to-mouth filter because I was averaging a not-optimal amount of sleep as I got used to my new job

[retroellie]

Joel Miller as a dad

Summary: Having Joel Miller as a dad 

A/N: i got sad there towards the end so sorry about that. I also wrote in that you were dating ellie so enjoy<3 

Warnings: TLOU2 spoilers, talk about death other than that its cute 

Word count: 1.3K

-He tries really hard to be a good dad

-He’s been different ever since Sarah, it’s been hard but you try to be patient with him

-When Joel found out that he was gonna be having another kid he flipped out

-He couldn’t stop thinking you were gonna end up like Sarah and he couldn’t go through that again

-but when  he saw you for the first time he knew  would do anything just to keep you safe

-In Boston he’s not the most loving dad, he’s not mean he just doesn’t show you how much he loves you

-It’s tough love I guess

-He always tells you that you can do better and that your being too careless

-you don’t take it personally though, you don’t know much about Sarah but you know when she died it broke Joel

-Speaking of Sarah, it’s forbidden to talk about her. The only reason you know about her is from tommy

-When you guys settled in Jackson he became more loving in a way

-He would always come up and tell you goodnight, when you were asleep he would kiss your forehead and whisper “goodnight baby girl”

-He calls you baby girl

-Jackson is when he opened up about Sarah a little more, telling you that you are very much like her or she would like you

-“You know Sarah always wanted a little sister. I reckon you two would’ve done just fine together”

-You had bad nightmares sometimes so if you woke up screaming out for Joel or you decided to walk into his room to wake him up, he would always let you cuddle up next to him

-You guys would always poke fun at each other, it was just father/daughter fun

-“Dad, I can't jump up that high”

-“well stop being so short, shorty”

-“Well stop being so old and maybe you could pull me up.”

-Joel was a pro when it came to periods, he knows it’s natural and he’s been around a few women in his life so he knows about it

-when you come crying to him about it he knows exactly what to do

-You are always trying to set him up with women, you even tried to get him to go on a date with the daycare teacher

-“Come on dad. Why not?? She’s so sweet, I wouldn’t mind her as a step mom.”

-“Because a hormonal teenager with a bad sense of humor is enough, I don’t think I can handle another woman right now.”

-You obviously know how to play guitar, I mean your Joel miller’s kid

-you guys always play together on the front porch, sipping on coffee as you watch the sunset

-you guys had movies nights, father/daughter dinners, he would even take you places outside of Jackson sometimes

-He just likes spending time with you, mostly because he feels bad that he wasn’t such a great dad in Boston. He regrets Boston in many aspects but that one he regrets the most

-also he fears something bad will happen to either you or him so he wants to get in as much time as he possibly can with you

-Okay but like having tommy as an uncle would be so fun

-And since Joel looks at Ellie as a daughter, you’re best friends with her, maybe eventually even dating her??

(this is kinda a whole other headcanon lol)

-Joel is super supportive of you and Ellie’s relationship, he trusts ellie a lot and he trusts that you know what’s good for you 

-When you came out to him it was tough for you and even tougher for him to understand it 

-”Dad.... I’m Gay/bi(or whatever your preference is<3)” 

-It took him a bit to take in what you just said 

-He didn’t really understand it, it was different back in his time 

-But he knew he loved you and wanted you to be happy 

-”I kinda had a feeling.. but it’s okay. You’ll always be my baby girl.” 

-You just bawled your eyes, it was honestly the first time you came to terms with yourself 

-He knew how much of a relief this was for you, he knows how much it hurts to hide yourself for so long 

-He just pulled you into a hug, rubbing circles on your back while you bawled your eyes out 

-”At least i know you won’t be getting pregnant any time soon.” 

-You couldn’t help but laugh at his stupid jokes 

-If anyone dared to say some shit about it, he would be ready to beat the fuck out of someone 

-You, ellie and him would have dinners together, you and ellie would hold hands and share small glances at each other 

-He would see that and he would try to hide his huge grin, HE HAS A EYE FOR LOVE AND MAMA YALL ARE SO IN LOVE HE CAN’T 

(anyways i’m getting off track back to daddy joel) 

-Joel’s not much of a dancer but he taught you how to slow dance 

-You two would be in the living room with some old country song and he would be teaching you the steps 

-”You never know when this will come in handy, what if you date a person who likes to dance huh? you can tell them your daddy taught you the basics.” 

-At the dances you would just stand at the bar with him, not having any interests with any of the people there 

-Eventually he would pull you onto the dance floor just to show off your dance moves . You two could look like idiots together 

- He taught you a lot, he taught you how to wood carve, how to shoot a gun and even how to pick a lock 

-You two shared a love for music so yall would have long talks about old music 

-You were really close with him, i mean your mom died so he was all you had. He was a single parent raising a teenage girl so he was really protective of you 

-He wrote a whole song for you, future days?? yeah that was for you (for the headcanon lets just say he wrote it shush)

-There was a time were you felt down, about life and about yourself 

-You were questioning everything, you weren't the same and his fatherly instinct could tell something was up 

-So over a nice cup of coffee you opened up to him, telling him how you don’t get the point of this sad life. How you feel nothing mattered 

-He was taken back, it wasn’t like you too be like this. He saw you go through tough times but it was never like it. you weren’t yourself 

-”You know, i’ve struggled to survive for so long even before the outbreak. but you have to keep finding something to fight for, look at the bigger picture. You are here, with me. You're alive with a roof over your head, obviously there is a plan for you. You are smart and kind, I know it because I raised you that way. You will find your purpose eventually and i know that doesn’t help the feeling go away but i hope it will bring you some kind of peace.” 

-It did bring you peace, it felt nice to hear it especially from him 

-When he died, your world fell apart. 

-There was no more singing, no more dancing, and no more kisses good night... it was just nothing 

-You slept in his bed for months straight, you wore his clothes, you even drank out of his coffee cup 

-It seemed like you were never going to recover, your world had stopped. 

-”You have to keep finding something to fight for.” 

-You never did recover from it, but you slowly but surely picked yourself up 

-You always brought new flowers to his grave, all his favorite kind too 

-You settled down in a farmhouse with ellie, you littered it with things to honor and remind you of your dad 

-He raised you well, he raised you to be tough and smart but he always taught you how to be loving and kind to people 

-He was so proud of you for growing up to be a lovely woman and where he was now, he would always love you 

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!Credit to Gif owner!