#their age gap was weirding me out

[glimmersea]

Wyll came in last on the statistics of who was romanced most frequently so now I have to actually play through the game with Adora because they would be so cute together.

[forestgreenlesbian]

.

[yujeong]

I saw ur post about wanting writing prompts so I thought why not lol. (This is my first time doing this 😅) but I have a few of AUs on my art blog that I would love to see expanded on like my Tall Pete/Short Vegas au, A band au with Vegas being a lead singer and Pete falling in love at first sight, or Pete being Vegas’ personal bodyguard instead of Tankhun’s. So yea if u find any of these interesting I’d love to see ur spin on it

OMG hi! Thank you so much for sending me this, I'm so flattered you thought of asking me to write sth surrounding your AUs ❤️ It kind of feels like the secret Santa event all over again, I love it haha. The timing is actually a little too perfect, because a few weeks ago, I randomly stumbled upon a YouTube short about the side couple in Laws of Attraction and I proceeded to 1. lose my shit, so much so that I decided to start watching the show and 2. write a whole page full of notes about an AU in which Pete is Vegas' bodyguard, based on the pool scene of said short. So, to give a little context: In this alternative universe, Vegas and Gun visit the main family compound for a meeting. At some point, Korn wants to talk to Gun alone, so Vegas goes to the pool area to find Porsche, along with Pete who follows him. Vegas proceeds to flirt with Porsche, as Vegas does, up until Gun suddenly appears and starts yelling at him for unclear reasons. He escalates it when Vegas asks, baffled, why he's being yelled at, by slapping him and putting his head into the pool. Pete normally doesn't intervene when Gun gets violent with Vegas, but his protective instincts here kick in and he stops Gun from literally attempting to kill his own son. As a result, Gun's anger gets redirected at Pete, who gets beaten up in Vegas' stead. The snippet I wrote for you is the aftermath of everything I described above. I hope you like it ❤️ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Silence, occasionally broken by a faint sound that resembled sniffing. Pete couldn’t tell what it was, but in his state he couldn’t really tell where he was either, so he stopped worrying about it. He tried, instead, to remember what had happened that brought him here, wherever “here” was. The last thing he recalled was the feeling of Khun Gun’s shoes digging into his forearms, which he used in his attempt to protect his head from his boss’ repeated, brutal kicks. Khun Gun wasn’t the strongest man Pete had ever met, but there were reasons he always tried to stay on his good side, and his cruelty was one of them. The cruelty that had so many times been directed at his own son. The kind he was eerily familiar with.

Khun Vegas’ face materialized in Pete’s mind. Droplets of water running down his nose, his sharp cheekbones, reaching his neck. His hair wet and disheveled, his chest heaving from the difficulty to breathe after having had his head shoved into the pool. His expression crumbling with worry, something Pete had no logical way of explaining. Fuck, where was he? Pete could only hope Porsche had protected him from his father’s fury afterwards. Khun Gun was unpredictable; he couldn't be trusted to only be satisfied by lashing out at Pete. Pete needed to go find him as soon as possible. Opening his eyes proved to be a challenge. A heavy fog was clouding his vision, and the pain that was engulfing his whole body was preventing him from doing the simplest of movements. He groaned as he shifted his torso in a futile attempt to get up, resulting in a gasp that startled him into opening his eyes to check where it came from. His mouth was hanging open as he took in the image of Khun Vegas staring at him, fidgeting nervously in the chair he was sitting on. His eyes were red around the corners and he looked ghostly pale. Pete’s breath hitched. “Pete… ?” he said, dropping his gaze to the floor. He always did that when he was feeling guilty about something. “Are you... ?” “I’m fine, Khun Vegas,” Pete replied, despite the numbness in his limbs and the headache that was starting to form. “What about you? Are you hurt? Should I take you to the doct-” “We’re at the infirmary, you idiot,” Vegas shouted, interrupting him, but his voice lacked the usual heat. “Stop acting like my bodyguard right now, it pisses me off.” That’s all I know how to be, Pete wanted to tell him, but remained silent. That’s all I’m allowed. He didn’t really mind Khun Vegas’ words. He’d heard worse things over the years, things that should have probably hurt him. Somehow, Pete had the ability to forgive him anything. The atmosphere grew tense between them. Pete had grown used to that, too, but he had never seen Khun Vegas be so self conscious before. He wondered why the sudden change. “I’m not thanking you,” Pete heard him murmur after a few seconds; he uttered the words under his breath, while staring at his feet. If Pete had a better view of his face, he’d argue Khun Vegas was pouting. Pete could only reassure him. “You don’t have to, Khun Vegas. I was simply doing my job.” It had the opposite effect. The creases between his eyebrows deepened as he lifted his head and stared at Pete. Astonished as his mouth was open agape, likely for a retort that never came. Alternatively, he turned his attention to the small table next to Pete’s bed. He stood up and approached it hastily, grabbing something that was resting on top of it, before Pete could take a closer look. “The nurse said you have to take this,” he said and extended his arm at Pete, revealing a small pill. It was probably a standard type of painkiller. Bodyguards never got any special medical treatment, especially those working for the minor family. It wasn’t worth the trouble. Pete tried to lift his hand to take it, but he bitterly realized it was impossible. He winced as he took a look at both of his arms and found them bandaged, smears of purple popping at places his skin was uncovered. He cursed under his breath. “Ah, I’m sorry, Khun Vegas, I’ll just call the-” Cold fingertips pressed on Pete’s chin. They felt even colder on his lips, the pressure just enough to make him open his mouth. The pill slipped between his teeth easily, with the help of a wet tongue he'd never thought he'd get to taste. Hot air hit Pete’s cheeks. His heart was beating rapidly. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Water traveled down his throat, taking the pill with it. Pete blinked. His head felt light, his body even lighter. He didn’t know how to describe the feeling, but he didn’t think it was bad. He focused, instead, on Vegas, who was standing above him with an unusual sense of confidence.  “Get well soon. That’s an order.” It was enough to ground Pete back into reality. He was thankful for it.

“Yes, Khun Vegas.” It was only then that Pete noticed how the color returned on Vegas’ face and how his slight trembling seized. “Has Pete woken up yet?” Both of them jumped at the sound of Porsche’s voice. He poked his head into the room, completely oblivious to what had transpired before he showed up. “Oh, he has. How are you feeling?” “Good,” he replied sincerely. The pain didn’t bother him anymore.  A smile spread on his lips as he added, “Khun Vegas just gave me my medicine.” Porsche returned it, though his was more mischievous than playful. “Pete, you should have seen Vegas while he waited for you to wake up. I’ve never seen him crying so hard-” Vegas punched Porsche hard on the shoulder to stop him from talking, which made loud laughter escape Pete’s mouth. It earned him a glare, one of Vegas' serious ones. It'd bring him hell later, but Pete realized he was fine with that.

[licorishh]

Genshin characters age headcanons masterlist (updated)

Yeah. I could give you many reasons why I believe some of the more debatable/"controversial" ones are very sensible and Good based on just freaking paying attention to context given in the game but for now I'll just compile a basic list. If you'd like to hear my reasoning for some of these you're welcome to ask as long as you're polite about it.

List under the cut.

Aether/Lumine: 19

Amber: 18

Kaeya: 22

Lisa: 33

Barbara: 17

Razor: 16

Xiangling: 16

Beidou: 29

Xingqiu: 15

Fischl: 19

Ningguang: 31

Bennett: 18

Noelle: 18

Chongyun: 16

Sucrose: 20

Jean: 21

Diluc: 22

Qiqi: 6-8 (Hard to tell given she's a zombie and talks and acts differently from normal)

Mona: 20

Keqing: 21

Venti: 20 (biologically)

Klee: 7-ish?

Diona: She's so hard because she literally runs a business and acts like an adult but she's super short. I have no idea.

Tartaglia: 21

Xinyan: 19

Zhongli: 37

Albedo: 21

Ganyu: 23

Xiao: 20

Hu Tao: 18

Rosaria: 23

Yanfei: 21

Eula: 24

Kazuha: 20

Ayaka: 18

Sayu: 9- or 10-ish maybe?

Yoimiya: 18

Kujou Sara: 24

Raiden: 28 (biologically)

Kokomi: 18

Thoma: 20

Gorou: 18

Itto: 26

Yun Jin: 19

Shenhe: 23

Yae Miko: 30

Ayato: 26

Yelan: 24

Shinobu: 20

Heizou: 21

Collei: 16

Tighnari: 22

Dori: Super hard to tell, because again, she lives alone and runs a business by herself despite using the short girl model.

Candace: 24

Cyno: 23

Nilou: 21

Nahida: 7-9

Layla: 18-19 (she seems to maybe be in her first year of college - definitely in college, I'm just guessing the year here)

Faruzan: 24 (I know she's like a hundred years older but she was stuck and didn't age and I'm talking biologically still)

Scaramouche: 21 (biologically)

Yaoyao: 7-ish?

Alhaitham: 26

Dehya: 25

Mika: 17

Kaveh: 27

Baizhu: 34

Kirara: 20

Lynette: 20

Lyney: 20

Freminet: 17 (Don't know how much younger he is than his siblings, just guessing based on context and the way he talks and acts)

Furina: 21 (biologically)

Neuvillette: 36 (biologically)

Wriothesley: 32

Navia: 26

Clorinde: 27

Sigewinne: Basically impossible to know as she's a Melusine and not a human

Charlotte: 21

Signora: 29

Dottore: 33

Arlecchino: 31

Dainsleif: 22 (biologically)

[trobeds]

hey if jeffannie is canon in the movie im gonna punch smth btw. its just so weird my god

[actualnymph]

Do you ship Kataang

No

[12neonlit-stage]

What are your thoughts on Sonegg? Me personally, I think the dynamic could be interesting... if Sonic was older. (I think he's like sixteen-ish?)

No. FUCK no.

[fleshdyke]

just heard a gr9 saying "i hate when people say 2 years is a lot" in reference to like age gap relationships and like

[designernishiki]

ok gonna be real I’ve never understood the “daigo is like a son to me” route that the writers took with kiryu. they’ve never, at least for most of their time knowing each other, felt like they’ve had a father and son dynamic– an older brother/younger brother one sure, or maybe a young uncle/nephew one. because I mean? they’ve known each other since they were both kids and they’re literally only 8 years apart in age. in y0 it’s implied that kiryu played with him and babysat him more or less when he was around 16-20 and it just doesn’t feel like a Dad sort of thing At All. kiryu was also a kid. just an older kid. daigo was a little brat to him just like an annoying little brother while secretly thinking of kiryu as a Cool Teenager he looked up to and wanted to be more like. it feels way more like an older/younger sibling sort of thing or something akin to that and it only starts being a little more like a father/son dynamic some time after daigo loses his father and feels the need to fill the void– which he couldn’t even begin to do until at least ten years later because kiryu was in prison. and it’s not particularly in a healthy way either, considering. well. like I said. kiryu’s never actually been like a father to him. I don’t even mean that in a negative way in this case, it’s just literally not the role kiryu fundamentally had in his life (especially because their age difference is a good 10-20 years too close to be that of a parental relationship.) so idk. having kiryu say all of a sudden that he sees daigo as a son (especially rather than as family in some other way) just feels kinda. wrong. and jarringly unfounded.

I mean shit, even majima would be more of a dad-ish figure to daigo realistically considering kiryu basically assigned him to look after daigo for like. years. while kiryu just kinda left without any known plans of reconnecting at all. or even kashiwagi on a certain level because of how he stepped in alongside yayoi after sohei’s death. kiryu has barely been around, hasn’t really showed any interest in legitimately being in his life, and has barely had any deeply personal interactions with him since they were basically both kids. and as much as I think how long they’ve known each other and what they’ve both been through is a means for a familial bond of SOME kind, there just seems like no room or evidence for a paternal role being taken on.

at least nothing healthy in that regard; if kiryu’s like a dad to him then he’s undoubtedly a deadbeat one and perhaps feels like a dad to daigo in a way because daigo’s paternal model (his birth father) was also emotionally (and probably largely physically) absent and near-impossible to live up to. that’d at least make sense, regardless of how unhealthy it’d be, but it STILL really doesn’t explain kiryu saying he thinks of daigo like a son.

it’s just. it’s such a weird thing to have him say and I wish it was this confusing because of nuance but honestly I just think the writers watered their dynamic down to supposedly father/son because it seems more emotionally impactful for kiryu to say “you’re like a son to me” than anything else he could’ve potentially said about their bond.

[foxyfexyll]

Dear foxyfexyll,

Your tslb au is amazing, if it was a food I'd maw it down, and if it was a pillow I'd shake it violently then hug the stuffing out of it!

It's scratching the Omori itch in the back of my mind, in a way no other Au has (successfully) done.

Hell, this feels like a proper sequel!

Please remember to take your time and move at your own pace, and although I crave more, I shall try my hardest to remain patient.

I wish you the best of fortune in making it.

Sincerely, Anonymous.

thank you very much it really means a lot that people actually care about this thing i made! this au came to my head when i was reading a bunch a fics in which the real world friend group could interact with headspace, because there’s so much that they don’t even know and i found it satisfying how they would react to what sunny was going through. personally, that was the itch that works like "It Really Works!", "Friends by Your Side, Within and Without" , and that one fic where kel gets a hard drive and plays the game as we do (IF SOMEONE FINDS IT PLEASE GIMME) were scatching, so check those out if you will, and share with me anything similar you enjoy! i prolly won't read it but add it to my endless pile of ao3 tabs :9

the thing is, i had that omori obsession a while ago (though i want to get back into it now thanks to this) so anything i didnt have written down from this au has kinda been purged from my memory, so it might take a bit to come up with stuff, let alone share it

enough of those excuses-- here's kel definitely absolutely NOT contemplating to eat... a slice of burnt toast? they found on the ground???

(dw he ended up keeping it instead)

[just-an-angel-i-know]

OOF the girl asked the question OUT LOUD with a microphone in her hand

damn that's bold.

[autumncakes]

friendly reminder is that cappucino and langue de chat probably have a larger age gap than latte and almond

[yersina]

I don't know if you're still open for writing prompts but would you be interested in writing Sung Hyunje being Yoohyun's big brother and not Yoojin? 👀 Like Riette and Noah but worse since it's two crazies instead of one.

I hope you know that the first thing I did after reading through this prompt was whisper “oh my god” in a horrified and yet fascinated tone

~

There’s no love lost between Hyunje and his parents, really. When he decides to stay overseas for an extra two years to get another degree after finishing his bachelor’s and stay away from them for just that slightest bit longer, he knows he’ll find no protest from them even if he’s doing it on their dime.

Looking down at the small boy in his parents’ living room, though, he thinks that maybe he should’ve at least called home once during the five years that he’s been away.

“Who are you?” he asks curiously.

The boy had frozen in the middle of putting away a carton of milk when Hyunje had let himself into the apartment, but now he slams the refrigerator door shut with more force than necessary and scowls at Hyunje with a truly impressive snarl for a child who can’t be older than ten. “Who are you?” he shoots back.

“I asked first.”

“You’re the one who broke in!”

“This was my apartment first.” He doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at the boy’s frustration with his answer. “I used to live here with my parents, but I haven’t been home in a while.”

The boy frowns. “Well, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” Hyunje hums absently and takes a seat at the dining table, sensing that this might take a while. “Hey! Don’t just sit at the table like you didn’t break into my apartment!”

“I live here too.” Hyunje folds his hands together and looks down at the boy. “Are you living here on your own?”

“No,” the boy says venomously, practically radiating hostility. “I live here with my parents.”

“And who are your parents?”

The boy glares at him, obviously reluctant to reveal any more information, but Hyunje just tilts his head and waits patiently. “…Han Eunmi,” he finally grits out. Hyunje crosses his arms. “And Sung Hyunwoo,” he finishes in a mumble.

Ah.

He’s not surprised. Sung Hyunwoo has never been a shining paragon of smart choices. “Sung Hyunwoo is my father as well,” he offers after a moment.

The boy’s eyes grow wide. “We’re brothers?” His eyes very clearly dart to Hyunje’s hair. “Are you sure?”

“Half,” Hyunje corrects. “My mother is Amélie Beaufort.” Not that it matters—he hasn’t seen his mother since he was born. He watches the boy mouth the French name with a look of perplexity. “What’s your name?”

Instantly, the look of suspicion is back. “You tell me yours first.”

He wonders if the boy is this wary of everyone, or if this is special treatment. “Sung Hyunje.”

“You have a Korean name,” the boy notes.

Hyunje raises an eyebrow. “I’m speaking Korean, aren’t I?” The boy rolls his eyes as if to say, Obviously. “I was raised in Korea. My father named me. Stop avoiding my question: what’s your name?”

“I’m not avoiding your question,” the boy mutters, but Hyunje elects to ignore it. The boy’s face goes through a series of increasingly rebellious expressions, but after another beat, he admits, “Han Yoohyun.”

Interesting. Hyunje’s willing to place all his money on Sung Hyunwoo having no idea that Han Yoohyun existed for the first half of the boy’s life. “How old are you?”

“How old are you?” Yoohyun echoes again.

His urge to strangle the child grows ever stronger. “Under ten, I’m assuming?”

The face that Yoohyun pulls is just as telling as his muttered, “How did you know that?”

“Seven?”

“Ew, no. I’m eight. And a half,” Yoohyun stresses. Hyunje just barely refrains from following Yoohyun’s example and rolling his eyes.

“And how long have you been living here?”

“Hey, it’s your turn—” Whatever protest Yoohyun was about to make is cut off by a quiet knock on the door. Both of them freeze at the sound, which makes the sound of the lock clicking open and subsequent creak of the door echo loudly in the silence.

“Hello, Yoohyun-ah? Are you home?”

“Hyung!” Just like that, Yoohyun is out of his chair and sprinting across the room, tackling whoever is in the doorway with his full force.

“Oof,” the person complains, but it’s done with a certain soft fondness that speaks of obvious closeness. “Hi there.”

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Yoohyun complains, and the way he looks up at the teenager as he closes the door behind himself makes his previous reluctance with Hyunje look like night and day.

“It’s been, like, two days,” the teenager laughs. “You know I can’t come over every day—oh.” A startled gaze meets his own. “Um. Hi.”

“Hello,” Hyunje greets in return, eyeing the newcomer curiously. He’s clearly much older than Yoohyun, so probably not a classmate or even in the same school—perhaps a neighbor? A babysitter?

“…are you… a relative?” the teenager asks tentatively when Hyunje fails to add anything else. “Teacher?”

“He’s my brother,” Yoohyun answers in his stead, nose wrinkling with distaste. “I met him today.”

Surprisingly, the teenager’s expression hardens at that. “Oh? Could I see your ID? Or passport?”

Hyunje suppresses his urge to laugh, but can’t help the smile that trickles onto his face. Protective, he diagnoses, and certainly smarter than the eight year old in the room with them. “Certainly.”

He pulls out his wallet and hands over his ID, taking the opportunity to observe the teenager in closer detail when he steps closer to take the card. He looks younger than Hyunje originally thought, perhaps not even in high school yet, but unfortunately there’s no school crest on his uniform for Hyunje to confirm his guess. “I’m Sung Hyunje. Sung Hyunwoo is my father as well,” he offers while the teenager is scrutinizing the details on his ID and turning it in the light. He’s had to say that particular fact more times in the past ten minutes than he has in the previous ten years.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sung Hyunje-ssi,” the teenager says after another moment, passing the card back to him. “I’m one of Yoohyun’s neighbors. I stop by to check in every now and then to make sure that he’s okay since he’s home alone so often. Sorry for the suspicion.”

“Understandable,” Hyunje says agreeably. “And what’s your name?”

“Han Yoojin.” At Hyunje’s raised eyebrows and pointed look at Yoohyun, he hurries to add, “Uh, no relation. Just a coincidence.”

“I see.”

“Do you know where his—your—parents are?” Yoojin asks abruptly. “I haven’t seen them in ages and I’m worried about Yoohyun.”

“Hyung,” Yoohyun whines. His hands haven’t loosened their grip on Yoojin’s vest this entire time, Hyunje notes. “I told you before: I have money, I can order food on my phone plus there’s a store right down the street, and I know how to get to school.”

Yoojin visibly softens when he turns to look down at Yoohyun. “I know, I know, but you shouldn’t have to stay at home by yourself all the time. It’s not safe.”

“But I have you!” Yoohyun chirps brightly. If Yoojin had softened before, he’s practically melting now. Hyunje wonders if Yoojin’s parents know that he’s so close with their neighbor’s child.

“But I’m not around all the time, Yoohyun-ah.” The admission looks like it physically pains Yoojin to say. Hyunje wants to take their relationship and poke at it. It’s fascinating. “Where have you been, Sung Hyunje-ssi?” he asks, turning his attention back to Hyunje.

“I went to school overseas,” he answers. “I don’t keep in contact with my family.”

Yoojin eyes him with a sizable amount of skepticism. “And are you back in Korea for good?”

Truthfully, Hyunje wasn’t planning on it. He came back to pack up whatever remaining belongings he might’ve still had lying around the apartment and leave Korea entirely after this, but his impulse control has never been terrific and his instincts are telling him to stay right here. “Yes,” he offers cheerfully. “I’ll have to leave momentarily to pack up the rest of my things, but I plan on staying here for the foreseeable future.”

“What?” Yoohyun interjects, scowling up a storm again. “No.”

Hyunje raises an eyebrow at him. “No?”

“No! I don’t know you and I don’t want you to live with me. Go away.”

“Yoohyun-ah…” Yoojin gives him an unreadable look before turning to Yoohyun. “Sung Hyunje-ssi is your brother. Wouldn’t living with him be better than staying here alone?”

“Why can’t you live with me?” Hyunje has never really been susceptible to puppy eyes, but he can tell they’re absolutely devastating on Yoojin. “I like you more.”

“Yoojin-ssi can visit whenever he wants,” Hyunje points out. “In fact, if he wants to stay over some days, he’s welcome to.” With that, he knows that he’s won Yoohyun over. Can be bribed with Yoojin, he notes with satisfaction, and smiles in response to the look Yoojin gives him.

“Really?” Yoohyun gasps. He slaps his hands on the dining table demandingly and leans in close. “You promise?”

For this, Hyunje has no reason to lie. “Of course.”

Yoohyun rocks back on his heels and scrunches his features up in an exaggerated thinking face. Yoojin keeps his attention on Yoohyun, but periodically, Hyunje catches his gaze darting in his direction. He wonders what’s running through the teenager’s mind right now. “Fine,” Yoohyun declares decisively after a few seconds. “You can stay.”

“Thank you,” Hyunje replies magnanimously. Regardless of the opinion of an eight year old, he would’ve stayed, but this makes things easier.

“I’ll… let you two get acquainted then,” Yoojin offers hesitantly, taking a step back towards the door.

Yoohyun immediately pounces in outrage. “What? No, hyung! You’re finally here—let’s watch a movie! Or play a game!”

Yoojin bends down and ruffles the boy’s hair with a reassuring smile. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he soothes while Yoohyun attempts to comb it back into some semblance of order. “You spend time with Sung Hyunje-ssi today, okay?”

Yoohyun pouts. “Fine.” He sticks out a hand, pinky extended, for Yoojin to shake. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Yoojin links his pinky with Yoohyun and presses their thumbs together. “See you tomorrow, Yoohyun-ah.”

At this, Hyunje stands up. “Let me walk you to the door.”

“The door’s right there—”

“I don’t mind,” Hyunje says with a smile and follows an uneasy Yoojin to the doorway. “It was nice to meet you, Yoojin-ssi. Thank you for looking after Yoohyun in his parents’ absence.”

“Oh, it was no problem, really,” Yoojin hurriedly reassures. “He’s a good kid.”

Hyunje is fairly certain that that is emphatically not true, if Yoohyun’s attitude around Hyunje is anything to go by, but now isn’t the time to be removing Yoojin’s rose-colored glasses. “Would you like compensation for your time? I’m not sure if my father would have offered anything, but I’d be more than happy to.”

Yoojin’s shaking his head before Hyunje even finishes speaking. “No, no, that’s really not necessary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then I insist you join us for dinner at least once a week.” Yoojin opens his mouth, no doubt to protest again, so Hyunje cuts him off with, “I’m sure Yoohyun would love your company.”

If Yoohyun’s weakness is clearly Yoojin, Yoojin’s is Yoohyun in equal measure. “I’ll have to check with my mom,” Yoojin hedges, eyes flicking behind Hyunje to where Yoohyun is no doubt lurking, but Hyunje already knows his acquiescence is all but guaranteed.

“Of course,” Hyunje allows graciously. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Yoojin-ssi.”

“Right. Sure. Have a good night, Sung Hyunje-ssi.”

Hyunje waves, lingering in the hallway long enough to note which door Yoojin disappears into, before retreating back into the apartment. He’s immediately confronted by an irate eight year old who looks at him with a level of distaste that’s comical for such a small child. “Yoojin-hyung was my friend first—you can’t have him.”

Hyunje hums, ignoring the invitation for a confrontation that Yoohyun clearly wants, and instead sweeps past him to examine the state of the rest of the apartment. “Why not?”

“Yoojin-hyung is mine.”

The first bedroom he reaches is clearly Yoohyun’s, and he only gives the messy contents a cursory glance before moving on. “What if Yoojin-ssi wants to be friends with me? Would you stop him from doing what he wants?”

In between checking the bathroom (only a single toothbrush and towel) and the hallway closet (everything still in the same place as Hyunje remembers from five years ago), he glances at Yoohyun and catches an expression of pure confusion. “Why would he want to be friends with you, though?”

Hyunje moves on to the next bedroom, striding down the hallway with brisk strides that force Yoohyun to jog to keep up with him. “He might,” he says lightly. He doesn’t recognize the bed or its covers when he steps into the room, and the dresser and desk are covered in a thick layer of dust.

“He wouldn’t.” The statement comes with such confidence that Hyunje pauses in his journey to the next room and looks down at Yoohyun. The boy stares up at him defiantly, a deep furrow between his brows.

“Yoojin-ssi is allowed to have other friends besides you,” Hyunje probes curiously.

Yoohyun immediately scowls. “No. He’s my friend.”

“Hm.” Hyunje considers the child in front of him, along with his overwhelming urge to poke the bear. “I think I’ll make him my friend too.”

“No!”

“Yes,” Hyunje replies serenely, continuing through the rest of the apartment now that he’s made his decision. The last bedroom, when he checks, is a study as equally covered in dust as the previous bedroom. He wouldn’t claim to be an expert, but it’s clear that Sung Hyunwoo and Han Eunmi have not lived here in a long time.

Curious, he thinks, that Yoojin’s parents have not bothered to report Yoohyun’s situation to any authorities despite their son’s presumably frequent visits.

“I’ll be staying for a while, Yoohyun-ah,” he says, crouching down to be eye level with the fuming boy, amused by his obvious anger. This isn’t what he expected when he came back to Korea to pay his father one final visit before neatly cutting him out of his life forever, but it’s not an entirely unwelcome surprise. He’s always been fond of mysteries. “Let’s get along, hm?”

In response, Yoohyun marches back to his room and slams the door.

[mossmurdock]

im thinking about trying to keep the same pace as shoko while out drinking...obviously failing...her cooing and laughing and fawning over how cute it is that you tried...teasing you about even trying but still always making sure you get home okay...maybe sometimes she sleeps over...maybe sometimes you get to see her the next morning laying on your couch all pretty and a little mussed-up...your hangover is bad but you up the act so that she can take care of you...maybe she knows youre pretending but still indulges in the performance anyway...

[whywoulditho]

american fandoms puzzle me. i've been on anime spaces for far too long and i get literal culture shock whenever i try to interact with fans of american/western media. i mean at least the weebs admit the weird. western media fans are like. unapolegetically problematic

[horrorwebs]

why are men literally the fucking worst