#but after a year of applying for jobs and getting literally not a SINGLE call back

[phopollo]

Could we also get back stories for Electra and the components and their families?

Love your art❣️❣️❣️

Hoo boy, okay, time to avoid putting off this answer akdbskdje

None of them have like.... "simple" backstories, but talking about the electrics and their backstories in the cartooniverse is definitely the most complicated, because they all tie back to Electra and/or Purse and Krupp. So! I'll start with them!

Another big long post, im so sorry akfnskd

Purse & Krupp

Even though I'm talking about them together, Purse & Krupp didn't know each other or even about each other's existences before being hired to work together. Purse had participated in some shadier money management activities, most of which was under the table work. Trying to get out of that, he applied for a job with a large and well known company and production line, seeking a personal money manager/accountant, legal advisor, and PR rep. Not all the same job for the same person, for the new face of the company. But Purse, feeling cheeky, applied for all three job positions. And then proceeded to land all three of them. Krupp, meanwhile, wasn't anything or anyone special or of note. As an armaments truck, he'd worked part time with public security and part time shuttling things said public security needed back and forth. He was simply looking for a raise, and seeing that this big large company was looking for personal security for the new face of the company, applied, not expecting to get the job. Purse and Krupp met perhaps a week before they met Electra and were given an opportunity to bsck out, as they were still in production when they were hired. Neither Purse or Krupp really processed what their new boss not even being fully built yet meant outside of "Oh, they might be a little naive." (Welcome to fatherhood you two!)

Electra

Electra was factory built specifically for and by the mentioned company that Purse and Krupp were hired by. They had been powered on for perhaps three hours before immediately being shoved in to Purse and Krupp's arms, and then in to their new job. Their entire purpose was to be a pretty face and be convincing for people to want to do business with their company. They didn't work on a line, and they didn't race. Occasionally, they did something more akin to shows, but... never anything that gave them that thrill they'd been seeking. After about 2 years, they made a convincing enough argument to their company to be allowed to participate in a single race-- a decision that the company would later regret, because they'd continue to make arguements to keep entering in races, which they'd always win. Another two years later (so roughly 4 years old total), Electra decided to break off from their parent company to go out on their own in a solo career for racing, having felt so drawn to and called by it. They took Purse and Krupp with them when they did, leaving their company to have to scramble for a new face and employees all over again. Here's some bonus babylectra & their gay dads loyal employees content (both while company owned and on their own)

Wrench

I say this so affectionately, Wrench was a freaky little girl. She was surrogate built for her demolition truck parents, and grew up literally right next to a scrap yard, where she would very happily go play as a kid. She really really liked to take things apart and try to figure out how they worked. Her parents, being demolition trucks who's jobs were also to take things apart, were supportive if not a little concerned by how methodical she was by it, but hey, they guess she's taking an interest in the fsmily business? But one day, while doing her thing and taking scraps apart, she broke her finger and needed to be taken to see a repair truck. And that totally blew her mind. Being able to put things back together?? Oh she NEEDED to be able to do that. She HAD to know how things worked AND be able to make them work. So! Wrench started doing her research to become a repair truck immediately (much to her parents concerned support), despite being far too young to actually begin training. By the time she actually got to her repair training, she was extremely knowledgeable (and morbid-) about diesel and steam engines, as there was so much information out in the world about them. But she was fascinated by the lack of information she could find on electric engines-- so new, constantly changing.... there weren't any experts in her or any of her neighboring yards. So of course, she decided that thats what she wanted to specialize in for repairs, despite not many electric engines passing through her station. (The scrap yard became her best friend during this time.) It was difficult after she became a fully certified repair truck though, due to that lack of electrics passing through her yard and not having the heart to apply for a transfer. She wasn't taken seriously, and frequently wasn't fetched for the few electrics that did need repairs, as the other repair trucks frequently just went ahead and fixed whatever little problem it was-- screw needing tightening, plating reaplications, etc etc. One day, she was called out to one of her neighboring stations though, as there had been a crash on the tracks involving an electric engine-- Electra. When she arrived, rather than just fixing whatever problem was caused by the crash, she also identified and fixed long standing problems they didn't even know they'd had, most of which caused by non electric specialized repair trucks assuming they could fix something minor. She was offered a job as their personal repair truck before she even finished her work that day. Here's a little baby Wrench just starting her repair training & Wrench the day she was hired. She became the first component they'd actually chosen for themself.

Volta

Volta grew up in a bit of a smaller, more conservative yard. The old school traditional freight and coach roles and presentations were more prevelant. So of course, when Volta, as a freight car, started expressing and experimenting with self expression that was viewed as traditionally "more coach-like," caring more for his hair and getting interested in makeup and fashion, he wasn't exactly popular with his peers. Considered too coach-like to get on with the freight, and the coaches unable to see past him being freight and get along. It was rough for the little dude, turning him a bit jaded and snarky at a young age, just out of tje need tor a defense mechanism. It never stopped him, but the constant isolation and judgement did beat him down quite a bit as he made it to adulthood. Meeting Electra, Purse, Krupp, and Wrench was pure coincidence. They were simply passing through a station that was part of his work route at the same time that he was. And he was absolutely enamored with them. They were the first rolling stock he'd seen who's expression of self was so similar to his, how could be not stare? Purse was the one to approach Volta. He wanted to know what shade and brand he used for his eye makeup, and if he thought it would work for Electra. Volta, trying desperately to be more interesting and keep these people talking to him, cracked a joke that they'd have to pay him for a consultation. To his shock, Purse agreed and asked him about prices and appointment times. When Electra & co actually showed up for the consultation, he absolutely faked it until he made it and they were happy with the result. He felt so normal for the first time ever talking to them, that when Electra & co went to leave, he extremely impulsively asked for a job. It was mortifying-- the most embarassing desperate moment of his entire life. Especially when Electra said no. But a moment of weakness and desperation, because several months later Electra returned to offer him a job, looking for a stylist and knowing he was interested. Bonus of of course, baby Volta & Volta the day he was hired

Joule

You know the saying "it takes a village?" Replace "village" eith "circus," and say hello to literally Joule. She wae built as an animal car in a circus train, and while even though not everyone was technically her family, that didn't matter because they all behaved like her family. It was generally an extremely positive environment to grow up in. The obvious downsides to being a performer from a young age and having such a large family of course reared their heads, but generally speaking, she wouldn't say she had a bad childhood. She was working and participating in acts before she hit double digits, but... well there wasn't exactly a lack of animal cars, and in her early teen years began to feel like it wouldn't really matter of she were there or not. She isn't really sure what sparked her interest-- perhaps it was just being different from what she was used to-- but she eventually took interest in the art of fire eating. Researching in to that took her down the road of pyrotechnics, and before she knew it, Joule was converting in to a dynamite truck and switching acts. And she loved it. She loved it for a really long time. She still does, actually, but... well. After awhile, it just made her... tired. Being in front of an audience like that was tiring. After shows, she'd always immediately go check and lock and undo everything that if anything went wrong could make everything brust into flames, and by the time she was done, most of the guests who'd stay to chat were already gone or on their way out. Never talking to anyone but her family and doing the same things every day was just... exhausting. Which is why when she returned from her checks after a show one day and found some massihe blue freak and their entourage waiting to talk to her specifically, who hadn't spoken to anyone else, it was extreme pleasantly surprising. More so when they'd ask her challenging questions about her job and hypotheticals about how she'd do something. And even more so when they'd keep coming back. She'd begun to find the most exciting part about performing was trying to spot them in the crowd and speaking with them afterwards, even if the conversations quickly derailed. It hadn't taken long for her to learn that this massive blue freak was a racer-- Electra-- but it took quite awhile for her schedule to line up to go watch them the way they'd kept coming to see her. It was only fair, wasn't it? But when Joule showed up, the atmosphere was so.... familiar, and yet.... different. It was exciting. And the race was exciting. The idea of going that fast was so alluring. She knew she'd want to get more involved in the racing scene. And watching Electra race? They were so cool and hot and powerful, and-- just-- woah. They lived like this? They just went to different places, and they didn't have a set routine when they performed? Extremely enticing. And when Electra saw her in the crowd and waved to her? And then immediately approached her after winning? Insane. It made Joule feel more seen than she had in her entire life. She didn't hesitate in the slightest when they offered her a job. And as per usual, bonus baby Joule & Joule the day she was hired

Killerwatt

Killerwatt's story doesn't actually begin with him-- he doesn't actually show up until late. It actually starts about 2 years before he's built, when Purse and Krupp start to disagree with some of the choices Electra had been making. At first, they kept their mouths shut. It wasn't frequent. They weren't decisions that were big deals. But the more time went on, the bigger deals they were, and eventually, they couldn't keep their mouths shut about it. It started to get bad, with frequent argurments and disagreements, and tension hanging over everyone. Now, with Electra as their own company, their own business, they began to wonder if they really needed Purse and Krupp. They had long since learned to mange their own bank accounts and the legalities of things, and Volta and Joule had honestly taken up most of the social media managing that Purse was supposed to be doing. And fans were respectful-- there hadn't been any threats made other than with fellow racers, of which, Electra could easily handle themself. What was Krupp even doing? But-- sentimentality kept them from firing them. About five months prior to Killerwatt's building, Electra finally decided and told Purse and Krupp that they wouldn't be renewing their contracts. And when asked if they were being replaced, grew extremely concerned that Electra didn't plan to at least replace Krupp. The only reason Electra thought he wasn't doing anything was because he was good enough at his job that the security details never reached them. Purse and Krupp were so undeniably attached to Electra after almost 10 years together, and they were extremely nervous about leaving them with no protection. So the two of them formed a plan. About two weeks before their contracts ended, having waited and timed things as last second as they could so Electra wouldn't notice until after they were gone and it was too late, and while it was still legal due to some fun loopholes Purse found, the two of them pushed through a commission order to a factory. A commission... specifically for a security truck for a Electra. And their plan worked. Electra got the email two weeks after Purse and Krupp left that their security truck would be ready in about a week, and did they want to come choose from the batch themself, or have one randomly selected and sent out to them? (They learned a very hard lesson to check their bank account more frequently that day.) So Electra, after tweaking out over Purse and Krupp spending their money, and on a security truck that they did not want, decided that-- well they wouldn't let this all be a total waste. And it wouldn't be fair for someone to be built to do something and not even have the chance to, they'd offer the smallest timedrame contract they could. So they showed up about two days after the batch had been finished and had time to be told what to expect, as almost all factory built rolling stock get. And... well, none of them really stood out. They were all so well trained in security already that there really wasn't anything that made any of them stand out, and, honestly, Electra was on the verge of just hiring whichever one they thought would clean up best and look good next to the rest of the components. But-- hold on, I actually have a visual for this moment

And I fear then both of their faces were sealed in that moment. Electra had to have this one. He was the only one looking at and following them. And-- well even if he wouldn't be doing much of anything, how could they possibly hire a security truck who wouldn't keep their eyes on them and their safety?? It's now been 3 years, and Electra has since learned his name is Killerwatt, and this was the best hiring decision they could have ever made. Bonus Babywatt doodle, of course, just to show off his pretty curls better

[yourheartinyourmouth]

guys tell me i’m being silly for being disappointed that i didn’t get a call back today for a job i applied to friday

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8564 tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: longer chapter woohoo, was gonna write after break but had so much inspo. wrote on my phone, so if there’s any typos, please ignore 🥹 series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

The nights haven’t been easy in the past couple of days. Mingled with a growing sense of anxiety added on top of your already heightened stress, your brain just can’t seem to shut off. You’ve tried melatonin and no more caffeine, but caffeine is ultimately getting you through the day and keeping you up when needed. In all honesty, you’ve already been struggling with sleep, but with the surprise meet with Suguru, dread’s been pooling in your stomach.

You have no doubt he spilled the beans. Hell, you would too if that was your best friend. You can only hope he somehow didn’t, though. A small part of you would be a little annoyed if he did, because again, he has no role in this. At least not a big one.

A sudden banging on your door jolts you upright, checking the clock and it’s not even 7:30 yet. Only one person could be demanding your presence so early. A heavy sigh leaves you, forcing your stiff muscles out of bed, wrapping yourself in a robe before trudging to the front door. When you peek through the peephole, your landlord stands there with an annoyed expression on his old face, foot tapping the ground in impatience.

“Bastard,” you mumble to yourself before opening the door. “Good morning, Mr. Sato.”

Seems he doesn’t have time for fake pleasantries, “Y/N, I’m assuming you saw the eviction note I left on your door yesterday morning.”

Unfortunately. “Yes, sir. I did.”

His arms cross, scratching at his greying mustache, “So, is it also safe to to assume you’ll have the money by next Friday?”

You sigh heavily, hand running through your hair. This is not how you wanted to start your morning. He was already making your life hell by suddenly raising your rent out of nowhere three months ago for so-called “renovations”. But you’ve yet to see any actual renovations being done. Not to mention, you’ve been bugging about your heater no longer working, and during this time of year, you and Koji are practically freezing to death. You had to buy a portable heater, small, but it gets the job done. Although it’s mainly in Koji’s room because you’d rather freeze than let him. “Look, Mr. Sato, I’m really trying here. I’m working hard to get the money, but please understand that—”

“Understand? I’ve been understanding, Y/N. I even applied last month’s rent to this month, just ‘cause of you.”

Of course, he’s gonna throw that in your face. Landlords seem to take their title so literally that if he didn’t have this much control over your space of safety, you would’ve ripped him a new one. Also, how could you forget that to even get him to agree to that plea deal, you were forced through an hour and a half of an uncomfortable, infuriating dinner with the man. Really, he’s not giving you much to work with here, but then again, you shouldn’t have had such high hopes. “I know, I know,” you reply, scratching at your roots. “I’ll have the money, okay?”

“You better,” he says gruffly. “Or I’m renting this unit to someone who can actually afford it. I’m hurting here too, you know?”

You huff. “Yeah, thanks.”

Without another word, you close the door in the man’s face, locking it. Leaning your back up against the hard surface, you close your eyes and will yourself to stay calm and positive. Counting back from ten and then back, a small tip your therapist showed you before your insurance no longer covered it. It’s okay. It’s only the start of the day, you have 20 something hours left. Now’s not the time to throw yourself a pity party and play woe is me. Now’s the time to just pick yourself up and move on. You’ll find a solution for the money, you always do.

Though this time, you can’t help but feel you’re really fucked.

I mean, you honestly have no idea how you’re going to come up with almost four thousand dollars in just a week. That sounds quite literally impossible in every single way. You get paid next week, but with taxes, you’re going home with maybe three thousand, so how will you get that extra thousand?

Unless some miracle decides to hit you, which almost never seems to happen. You used to think someone hoaxed you, or you were just born with the most unluckiest luck ever. Or, the more cynical thought you tend to have, you were fated to live a life in strict financial management, and hardships are constantly thrown at you left and right.

But hey, you’ve made it this far, right?

“No, I haven’t.”

“You what?!”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Y/N, what the fu–”

“Jesus Christ, I know, Hana. You don’t have to make me feel even more like shit.”

Your friend stops mid-way, eyeing your very displeased expression. She sighs and relents, slumping back in the small chair in the backroom of the cafe. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting your confession simmer and process. When she does, it’s an honest question. “But…why?”

Why. You feel like you’re staring to hate that damn word. “A lot of reasons, I know it’s not really justified, but I just…need someone to understand me for once. Not come at me for my dumb decisions.”

Your words feel bare and raw, not completely exposing the extent of the emotions you’ve been harboring, but enough to make her stop. Hana regards you with pursed lips, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Finally, she nods. “Okay, I won’t question you anymore. You have your reasons, and your reasons are always valid. So, I’m behind you on this. We stick together, remember?”

A hint of a smile forms on your lips, quietly thanking her. She comes forward to give you a hug, one you immediately reciprocate. Her auburn hair tickling your nostrils, arms seemingly tightening. “Don’t go holding things in anymore, I told you that. I’m here, to talk, listen, whatever.”

You and Hana met three years ago. She was just your co-worker at the time, now promoted to your manager. Although she’s two years younger than you, you two relate to a lot of things. Whether that be movies, food, what guys are hot, or alcohol. If anything, Hana might be your only friend in general. It’s a little sad, maybe, but at least you have someone to come to when you need to talk about adult issues your five-year-old wouldn’t be able to comprehend.

“I love you.” You find yourself muttering.

“I love you too, girl. Now, get out there, your break’s up.”

Jokingly scoffing and nudging her, you stand from the seat and do a quick stretch. Preparing yourself for yet another few hours of dreaded customer service and fake smiles, you walk out of the backroom, pushing the small curtains aside that separate the back from the counter, and clock back in.

“Cash or card?”

“Hello, how can I help you today?”

“Would that be all?”

“Have a nice day.”

Are all phrases any retail or customer service worker finds a little annoying, if not a lot. It’s so draining. And when the customers don’t greet you back, your pettiness shines through and you won’t even say have a good day to them when they’re leaving. Although, the job does have some upsides to it. For example, you get to make free coffees, take whatever pastries are left at the end of the day home, and the customers are never really bad. Of course, you have had a couple experiences, but nothing compared to a chain store. You’re even starting to use your customer service voice throughout the day, even when you’re not at work. Honestly, that’s not very good.

As you’re wiping up the counter, you feel a buzzing in your pocket. Taking your phone out, you see a set of numbers, an unsaved contact. You give Hana a quick glance, muttering a “just a sec”, before going back to the back to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

God, it’s gonna take some time getting used to his voice on the regular now. “Oh, Suguru. hey…uh–what’s up?”

There’s some shuffle on the other side like he’s adjusting the phone. “Are you busy right now?”

“Well, yes. I’m on the clock.”

He sighs, phone switching to his car output. “Where do you work? I’ll come now.”

“What?” you splutter out, head shaking. “No, Suguru, you can’t just pop out at my job. I’m busy, just tell me what you need right now.”

“I’m not sure I should.”

That statement alone scares you a bit. His cynicism always got on your nerves, but it also worried you from time to time. Most of the time, he didn’t mean any harm because that’s just how Suguru was, but it still did its job. Contemplation strikes through you. “Is it bad?”

He hesitates, which only further skyrockets your anticipation. “Honestly, it’s not too bad. But still, I need to talk to you.”

A breath emits from your lips, one you didn’t know you were holding. Eyes meeting the ceiling, you ponder over your decisions. Eventually, you come to a conclusion. “Fine, but it can’t be too long. I’m at Deja Brew, the cafe on–”

“On Express, got it. Be there in a bit.”

He’s hanging up before you even get a chance to question that he knew the cafe you worked at. If he did, surely he would have visited at least once, but you’ve never seen him come in. And you’re every day. Unless he usually comes when you’re not clocked in anymore. Anywho, you steel yourself for the inevitable conversation. Anticipating whatever bad or not-so-good news he'll give you.

“So.”

“Mm, this is good.” Suguru nods appreciatively, sipping from his coffee. You made it for him before he arrived, as a weird sort of gift to him. You two have situated yourself in a booth in the corner. Hana was a little confused as to why you were taking a break while you were on the clock, even regarding you with an almost scolding look. But the second she saw Suguru follow, her expression changed.

You practically saw the heart eyes form, smiling in a bashful way. That’s one thing you forgot about. The way girls would magnetize themselves towards the man, his best friend too. The two together were an almost deadly duo.

“Suguru,” you say, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “Please just…don’t stall anymore. Why did you want to see me?”

“Right,” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter. Once more, his steely gaze meets yours, you have to hold back the sudden urge to look away. “Like I said, it’s not terrible news, but not very good either.”

You nod, wanting him to just stop with the extraness and get to the point. “Okay, say it.”

“Satoru.” is the first thing he says, gauging your automatic grimace to his name. “He knows.”

Figures. “And you told him?”

He nods in response. You exhale, rubbing your face. “Suguru, why? I didn’t say you could.”

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed permission to tell my best friend he has a secret love child he hasn’t known about for five years, Y/N.” You hate when his voice gets like that, like you’re a school child who’s just been caught by her teacher for doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “Anywho, he knows. He wasn’t…very happy.”

You slowly ask, unsure if you’re ready to hear the answer. “What did he say?”

“More so what he did than said,” he pushes a stray strand of black hair out his eye and behind his ear, arms crossing. “He’s been quite easy to anger. I mean, I haven’t really talked to him because he’s not answering my calls, but I’ve been hearing from people at the office. He also kicked my ass out right after I told him. But that’s all I know at least, Nanami says he’s like a ticking time bomb.”

Jesus Christ. You don’t know what else you were expecting, you’re surprised he hasn’t done worse, but like Suguru said, that’s all he knows. His state is most likely a hundred times worse than what’s being thrown at you right now. You feel an intense guilt pool, mixing with a slight fear. “Did he…do anything else? Say anything?”

“I don’t know, he’s not talking to me right now.” Suguru concedes, leaning closer to you, brows furrowing in a seriousness. “Look, I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel worse, but I should let you know. He’s going to try and seek you out now that he knows about his son. You know that, right?”

Of course, you fucking know that. That’s what makes you scared, the possibility of somehow running across him in the most unsuspecting of places makes you want to stay holed up in your shitty apartment. “Yeah,” you gulp. “I figured.”

“I don’t know how he’ll react if–when–he does see you.” he honestly admits. “I just think you should reach out to him first, before he does it. I have his number, you should ca—”

“Stop.” you hold a hand up, eyes closing. “No more, I don’t want to be told what to do. I just…need some time processing everything right now.”

“Y/N–”

“Suguru,” your eyes open, staring at him dead on. “You seriously can’t expect me to jump from one thing to the next. I need fucking time to figure out what I’m gonna do. I’m already stressed as it is, now I have to worry about my son’s father possibly trying to reach out and that just sets me more on fucking edge. You come to my work, spring this on me, and I–” you’re rambling. Cutting yourself off in the middle of a sentence, choosing not to finish it. The last thing you need to do is rant to him. Besides, you’re just starting to see him again after five years, that would absolutely put him in a weird place between comforting someone who was once his friend, and backing up his life-long best friend.

You jolt a bit when you feel a warm palm envelope your hand, his thumb gently rubbing across your knuckles. Looking back at him, he gives you an all too familiar look. One that can make you just pour out everything you’re feeling right at that second. It’s a horrifying technique he has. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you feel like shit. I should’ve been more considerate. I’m sorry.” He apologizes with a soothing intonation. Again, it’s making you feel warm. “It’s a hard situation, I could never know exactly what you’re going through. but…I care about you, Y/N. I always have, even without Satoru’s involvement. So, I’ll do better and not overwhelm you.”

Damn it, Suguru. Now you’re making me feel bad! Not trusting yourself with words, you meekly nod, slowly pulling your hand out his grasp. You miss the way his eyes dart down to his now empty grip, a small downward twitch to his lip that he expertly hides. “I should go back to work, I’m assuming you do too.” You stand on wobbly feet, giving him one last lingering gaze. “On the house, by the way….yeah, bye.”

Suguru watches you disappear behind the curtains, a small pit expanding in his gut. He pushes it away without thought, sighing to himself as he stands and exits the cafe. He walks down the sidewalk to his blacked out 2025 Mustang GT parked on the street. Getting in with a heavy head that’s full of all kinds of emotions. Some he doesn’t try to acknowledge, but the ones he does, it’s all worry and concern. He really doesn’t see how this situation can somehow turn around. Maybe you two will have a very mature and calm conversation when you cross paths.

He almost laughs to himself when he begins driving. Calm? Mature? Yeah, right. How do you have a calm conversation about hiding a kid for five years? Not to mention, you and Satoru are equally stubborn; it used to be so infuriating for him.

Suguru had patience, a lot of it actually. But you two tended to test that. Although, he would always forgive one of you the quickest. Cough, cough. You. It was like you had this weird thing about you that made the people around you just…like you.

His grip tightens on the wheel, biting his lip. He gets to a red light, thumb tapping on the material. Damn it all.

There’s a ringing that emits from the car’s speakers, looking at his touch screen to see the familiar name. Using this as a distraction, he answers. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice sounds out. “Where are you? Thought you were paying for my lunch.”

He huffs, eyes rolling, and moving the car forward once the light turns green. “I never agreed to that.”

“Sure you did,” Shoko replies, exhaling a breath. She must be smoking. “Anyway, hurry up. I’m already waiting outside. I thought Satoru was coming, is he gonna be late again?”

Yeah, no. “I don’t think he’s coming anymore.”

“Why not?” Shoko asks.

Suguru exhales heavily, turning the street towards the meet-up spot with his friend. “Some shit happened, I don’t think he’s doing good.”

Shoko pauses, adjusting her phone in hand. “What happened?”

Suguru too stops, completely forgetting how Shoko has no idea about what has transpired in the past couple of days. “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

Satoru has never been surprised before, not technically. He’s a smart man with quick instincts and a good foresight, it’s like he can always tell when something is going to happen, before it happens. Even for birthday parties, his perception and people reading skills are great, he knows when someone’s lying or not telling the full truth.

In short, he knows a lot of things.

But, what he didn’t expect was for 1) even hearing your name ever again after the breakup, and 2) you have a son, his son. A son he had not one goddamn clue about. The only person who’s ever been able to throw him off his game is you.

Even back when you two dated, there were moments where you’d either say or do things that would make him pause for a second and think how unlikely that was of you. He knew you’d lie sometimes, small white lies weren’t foreign to him because he did it too. But, he never thought you’d deliberately keep something like this from him.

And to top it off, if Suguru never saw you by chance that day, would you have ever even told him?

Now that really fucking pisses him off.

When Satoru is mad, everyone else’s day is ruined. When he’s mad, you can see it in his face, his body, how he’s just barely holding himself back. It’s even more scary when Satoru is known as the laid-back, playful and unserious type of man. So when he’s mad, almost no one in the office wants to make him even angrier, let alone be around him.

He’s barely slept a total of ten hours within the past two days, mind keeping him awake. He’s trying to not imagine the image of you holding a boy who looks like him because he’s already broken one too many pairs of glasses and the thought alone makes him infuriated. He sees a blinding white flash of betrayal, hurt, confusion, and anger.

He doesn’t mean to take it out on his employees, but their feelings are not on his list of priorities.

He has a son.

A son who’s five, apparently.

Five whole years of being kept in the dark, not even being blessed with a smidge of information about his offspring. While he was off fucking women, having fun, dreading about taking over his father’s business, you were god knows where, changing fucking diapers and losing sleep. And for what? Were you that fucking scared to tell him?

Oh, he’s so going to rip you a new one when he sees you.

But, he’s still not sure if he wants to do that. Afraid of what might happen, he’d rather not blow up on you, but can you blame him if he does?

He just found out he has a secret love child from a woman he knew years ago and know he’s expected to act like everything is normal in this boring fucking meeting?

Not to mention, if his father finds out, he’s not sure what will happen. If anyone else finds out, for that matter. If anything, he needs to get a reign over this messy situation before he’s allowing anyone to know.

“Mr. Gojo? What do you think?”

At the sudden mention of his name, he snaps back into focus. Eyes flickering over to the bald-headed man who currently stands in front of the table of other withering men, the screen projector displaying a multitude of different statistical data. The man falters slightly, his grip tightening on the laser pointer as Gojo’s eyes land on him

Shit. He has no idea what they were even talking about. “About?” He clears his throat, appearing nonchalant, though the tight hold on the ballpoint pen says otherwise, the faint click of it opening and closing the only indication of his simmering irritation

The room feels colder, quieter.

The man clears his throat nervously. “The expansion plan... into the Asia-Pacific region. Whether you think it’s viable in the current climate.”

Gojo leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his pen continues its faint, rhythmic clicks. His expression is unreadable, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he lets the silence stretch a moment too long. “And you need my opinion on this?” he says finally, his tone polite but tinged with condescension.

The bald man shifts on his feet, adjusting his glasses. “W-We... wanted your insight, given your, uh, experience overseeing the European division.”

“Right,” Gojo says, dragging the word out just enough to make the man squirm. He tilts his head, his icy blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, if I’d been paying attention, I’d probably say something about how overly cautious you all seem to be. But that’s just a guess.”

The bald man blanches, stammering, “O-Overly cautious? We’ve taken every factor into account—”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Gojo cuts in smoothly, his voice softening just enough to disarm the growing panic in the man’s voice. “I’m just wondering if maybe all those ‘factors’ are holding you back. Are we leaders, or are we playing it safe like everyone else?” His eyes flicker briefly over the rest of the table, daring anyone to challenge him.

The bald man hesitates, then nods quickly, his nervous energy palpable. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Mr. Gojo. I’ll revisit the projections to—”

“No need,” Gojo interrupts again, flashing a faint, humorless smile. “I trust you’ll figure it out. Unless you think I shouldn’t.”

The man practically trips over his words in an effort to assure him. “No, no, of course not. I’ll make the adjustments immediately.”

“Perfect,” Gojo says, the finality in his tone dismissing the topic entirely. He shifts his attention to the projector screen, the numbers and graphs blurring together as his thoughts drift.

The room eventually moves on, the hum of conversation resuming. But Gojo doesn’t miss the quick glances from across the table, the subtle unease lingering in the air.

He taps the pen against the table, his jaw tightening. It’s taking everything in him not to snap, not to let the weight of the fact that his ex-girlfriend is a filthy fucking person seep through the cracks.

Let them sweat. It’s the only thing keeping him entertained today.

The minute the awful meeting of ifs and hesitant decisions is over, he’s pushing out his chair, being the first one to leave the haunted room. It’s a bad mistake on his end, because his secretary, Aiko, is on his ass. “Mr. Gojo, your father is waiting for you in your office.”

Great, as if things couldn’t get any fucking better. He holds back a remark, gruffing out. “For?”

“He didn’t say, sir. He just wanted me to tell you to see him as soon as the meeting finished.”

He really, really doesn’t want to see his father right now. The two were too alike, constantly butting heads which only ended in a harsh set of insults being tossed around, mingled with occasional threats of “never passing the company down to someone as idiotic as you”. His father is bluffing, of course. He has no other person to pass it down to, with Satoru being the oldest and only son of his father’s. His long legs easily lead him to the doors of his office, to which he hesitates. Taking in a big breath, before opening the doors and closing them soon after. “What is it?” he asks, walking over to sit in his chair, leaning back comfortably.

His father, Yamato Gojo, the current CEO of the Gojo Group, who sits leisurely on the black leather coach stands up to position himself across from his son. Arms crossed and the permanently etched frown on his face. “Why didn’t you come to the dinner yesterday? There were very important people there you needed to meet. I texted and called you.”

Why didn’t he go? Can he really just say “sorry dad, I was stressing about this shithole I’ve found myself in”. No, he can’t. Instead, he shrugs and brushes his father off. “I was already busy.”

“Busy with what? What’s more important than networking?”

“A lot of things, actually.”

Yamato dislikes that answer quite a lot, frown seemingly deepening, regarding his son with another usual disapproving look. “Satoru, this is serious. They were expecting you and you embarrassed me. I won’t let this happen again, when I say you need to be somewhere, you be there. No if, ands, or buts. You’re pissing me off.”

How ironic of him to say that considering he’s having the exact same effect of Satoru. He isn’t scared of his father, hell no. But he does know to pick and choose his battles. And with the way his mind is completely scrambled right now, he forces himself to intake a huge breath of air. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I’ll be there next time. Happy?”

“Only after you prove it.” Like father, like son. Satoru hates how his father always seems to want to get the last word in. But his father hates how he does the exact same.

Throughout the entirety of his shift, up until he clocks out of work and walks to his designated parking spot which houses his white 2025 Mercedes-Benz SL-Class. Driving back to his high rise penthouse on autopilot, his thoughts zeroed in on one person only. Or well, two people.

Satoru wasn’t ever sure he wanted to be a father. He knew it was expected of him, but so many people had such high expectations of him, it became exhausting. Too exhausting. Does he even have a right to call himself a father to a child he never knew, a child who probably doesn’t even know him?

His right hand reaches for his phone, calling a number without taking his eyes off the road. It answers on the first ring, but Satoru doesn’t give him the chance to respond. “Do you know where she lives?”

There’s a falter, hearing Suguru’s deep breath come out on the other end. “No, I don’t. And nice to hear from you too.”

“I don’t have time for your sarcasm right now.” He stops at a red light, using his left hand to rub the crease between his furrowed brows. “Do you know anything? Her number? Where she works? Where did you see her so I can go over?”

“Satoru, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to go meet up with her again. You’re obviously not in the right mind space and I don’t want you two to—“

“I’ll argue with her all I want, I have that goddamn right to.” Satoru grits out, interrupting his friend before he has the chance to spew out more shit he’d rather not listen to right now. “Answer me.”

In Suguru’s mind, he knows if he gives Satoru even the tiniest bit of information regarding your whereabouts, he’ll storm over there and probably say things he doesn’t mean. Satoru tends to think emotionally in very dire situations, a bad habit of his. Still, although he knows his best friend should be angered by this situation, Suguru doesn’t want to involve himself. More than he has. After speaking with you, he’s come to the conclusion that you’ll reach out to Satoru soon. Considering the fact that he already knows. “I don’t know, I saw her at a grocery store, but she was just shopping.”

“Fuck,” Satoru groans, moving his car forward again. “Well how the hell do I—“

He’s cut off by a small vibrate to his phone, a message. When he looks down, the screen is overtaken by a new call coming in from Himari. Honestly, she’s the last person he wants to talk to right now.

“What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, after noticing the small beat of silence from the other end of the phone.

What isn’t wrong? “Gotta go, call you later.”

“Sat—“

Satoru ends the call, picking up the new one. “Hey.”

“Baby,” Himari’s light voice fills his ears, sighing in relief. “Can you come pick me up? I’m at the mall but the tires of my driver’s car popped.”

He’d rather not, but Satoru has found out that it’s been quite difficult to say no to his girlfriend. So, he puts his own internal and external battles to the side, making a right turn and exhaling. “The mall?”

“Yes, baby. Thank you so much.”

He hums back in response. “Be there in ten, wait outside.” Once again, he hangs up and a suffocating silence fills his car. Hands tightening around the wheel, he reels himself in with a big inhale, then exhales. He can’t show these sorts of emotions in front of the woman, for she’ll no doubt question and question about what’s wrong, which will then lead to an argument. He doesn’t need arguments.

As Satoru sees the mall in the distance, he’s overrun by the sudden determination. The determination to find you and meet his son.

“Just one more question, Koji. Then let’s eat dinner, how does that sound?”

The young boy groans in annoyance, the math work of simple addition problems laid out in front of him. He hates math, almost as much as you, excelling in other subjects like English and Art. “But Mama……” he drags the words out in a childish manner.

Plating two plates of tonkatsu chicken with curry, one plate smaller than the other, you turn to your son who now has a pout on his face. You resist the urge to pinch his cheeks. “You can do it, you did the other ones so well.”

Sitting next to him, you look over at his workbook. Just one more problem. It’s a problem consisting of three numbers, 5, 23, and 6. Simple in your eyes, but a disastrous monstrosity in the eyes of a five-year-old. “Mama will help you, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.” Koji grumbles, reluctantly grabbing his red pencil again.

Times like these you cherish. Sure, it’s mundane and not very exciting. But it’s the little things that matter most to you. Helping your kids with homework, helping them learn to ride a bike, tie their laces, it’s all wonderful experiences from your perspective. Proof of the fact that your chubby little baby isn’t very little anymore, growing into his own person. Although, the more he grows, the more he’s starting to resemble his father. It’s scary at times, when he looks at you and you get random flashbacks.

Eating dinner and washing up is another thing you love. After such a hectic day, you just want to unwind with your son. You had put in your PTO for the convenience store a month in advance; after a particularly hard month. Finishing at 5:00pm, like most people do, is a breath of fresh air.

You let Koji tire himself out in the tub, then the living room, to which he has Cars playing (his favorite movie at the time). He plays with his own small set of matching cars, while you sweep the kitchen. Your eyes flicker over to your phone that lays face up on the island, a bubbling sensation forming in your being, one of contemplation. You wonder to yourself, would you call Satoru? You know his number by heart, he most likely hasn’t changed it.

After the breakup, you cut off all contact with him and his friends, even choosing to get a new phone and new number, just to avoid any possibly drives of texting him, or to avoid him texting you. You quite literally wanted to erase every memory about him.

Kinda hard to do that when you’re raising his carbon copy.

After another blind minute, you pause your sweeping and grab your cellular device. You’re about to grab Suguru’s business card from your purse when a sudden question hits you.

How was he able to call you earlier at work if you had never given your number to him in the first place?

Your brows knit together while you come up with any possible solutions and reasoning to that thought, coming up blank. Seriously, how did he call you? Without thinking, you go to your recent calls, pressing the first one, and raising your phone to your ear.

It rings for about a second, before Suguru’s coaxing voice follows. “Hello?”

“How did you get my number?”

“What?”

“How did you get my number? I didn’t give it to you at the store.”

You can practically hear the way he’s trying to formulate an answer. Coming up with a shitty one. “I just…guessed.”

You say nothing, your eyes narrowing on a certain spot on the blank white walls of your kitchen.

Another second passes before he gives in, too easily. “Okay, okay. Look, I don’t want to sound creepy or anything but—“

“Were you stalking me?”

“What?! No! Of course not, Y/N. I’d never do that.”

“Then tell me how you got my number without me telling you.”

He sighs. “…I have a friend. He’s in the law enforcement and I…may have asked around. But before you get any ideas, I was worried. You just fell off the face of the Earth and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You can’t stop the huff that leaves you. Should you feel complimented that he went out of his own way to do all this or invaded? Maybe both. Honestly, you did that all for a reason. And he blatantly went behind yours, probably everyone’s, back to get some information on you in a shady way. Isn’t that illegal or something? “Suguru, when people do that, it doesn’t mean they want to be found.”

“I know, Y/N. But I was worried, so was Shoko and Satoru—“

“Does he know my number too?” You ask, already feeling your panic run up your veins, boy straightening into a stiff position.

“No, no, he doesn’t. Just me.” He quickly relieves you.

You guess that’s somewhat better. Although you still feel mildly annoyed at Suguru for what he did. “Is that all you know?” The way he doesn’t respond immediately makes you feel even more frustrated, jaw clenching.

“I….” He lets out a heavy breath. “No, it’s not.”

“What else do you fucking know?”

He winces at your now harsh tone of voice, though he knows it’s all expected. “It wasn’t on purpose, I just wanted your number, I swear. But when you’re looking for that kind of stuff, other things pop up like…address and…yeah.”

If only he could see your expression right now. “You know where I fucking live?”

“Yes, Y/N….”

Okay, now your privacy is very invaded. You have never really gotten angry with Suguru, let alone get into an argument. He always knew when to stop, what not to say to make someone else feel worse, but did he just get fucking dumb after all these years? “…are you serious?” You know he is, not even giving him the chance to answer your rhetorical question. “Fuck you, Suguru. I can’t believe you—you completely—I don’t even know what to tell you right now.”

You can hear the guilt in his voice, tone softening. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I had the best intentions, I was never going to visit you or call you without your specific permission to.”

“Did I give you permission to call me earlier?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Exactly.” With another scoff, you bite your lip, picking the correct words to voice out. You wouldn’t say you’re a word vomit person, usually. But right now, you just feel…slightly weirded out. All this time, you thought you had solitude. But Suguru knew where you were this entire time? “Goodbye, Suguru.”

“Y/N, wai—“

“Don’t. If I need you, I’ll tell you. But right now I don’t want to speak to you.”

He pauses, feeling his gut tighten. Nonetheless, he nods and mutters. “Okay, I’ll give you space. Just please know I’m sorry and I really didn’t have bad intentions.”

Seems like this is the second time today he’s apologizing to you. You don’t like it. Without another word, you end the call, putting your phone back on the hard surface of the island. Jesus Christ. What the hell is going on, seriously?

One minute you’re stressing about getting evicted, then you have to worry about Satoru somehow running into you, and now you find out Suguru has just casually known your address all these years. Why is all of this deciding to be sprung on you all at once? Out of no where? The world must be punishing you for every unholy deed you’ve done in your life; it really doesn’t seem fair. At all. Can’t things just go right for once in your life? You just want to go at least a day without external stressors fucking you over in every way possible.

Of course, you’re unlucky. That’s just how things have always been for you. The universe has a twisted sense of humor, and you’re the punchline to every cruel joke. The thought of Suguru knowing your address sends a cold, uncomfortable shiver down your spine. What else does he know? What else has he been hiding?

The questions swirl in your mind, each one more suffocating than the last. You sit down heavily on the edge of your worn-out couch, its cushions sagging beneath you as though they, too, are tired of carrying your weight. You bury your face in your hands, the skin of your palms rough against your cheeks, and take a deep, shaky breath.

Satoru (and Suguru). Their names alone bring up a storm of emotions you can barely keep bottled up. You’ve worked so hard to keep them, and everything they represent, in the past. Yet here they are, forcing their way back into your life like unwelcome ghosts.

You glance at the stack of overdue bills on the coffee table, mocking you with their bold red lettering. As if you didn’t already know you were drowning. Maybe it’s time to stop fighting the tide.

You watch Koji focus on the bright screen, moving his toy cars in unison with the movie. Willing yourself to worry about the now, to convince yourself that you’re not done, that there’s still some fight left in you.

However, that seems to be proving harder each and every single day.

It’s a chilly, but sunny winter day. The sidewalk filled with other people going about their day. You’re wearing a black trenchcoat, along with a scarf. Hands stuffed into the pockets of your coat as little puffs of white air leave your mouth, a stark piece of evidence of how cold it is today. The heels of your shoes clacking down the concrete, making your way to the familiar cafe of Latte Lounge.

Saturdays are supposed to be happy days, a final breath of fresh air after the business of the weekdays prior. The day where people enjoy Mother Nature and what she has to offer, a day of sleeping in, a day of no responsibilities.

A woman like you has no Saturdays. It’s like every day is a cold, hard Monday.

You finally spot the cafe, its large, glass windows giving you a sneak peek to the liveliness that resides inside. Of course, most people do choose to go to cafes on Saturdays. Especially this early in the morning. Walking in, the small bell above the door dings. The workers behind the counter greet you; while you give them a half greeting back, your eyes scan the environment. It takes a few seconds, but you see Mr. Ito sitting at a table for two in the corner.

You prepare yourself with a heavy sigh, forcing your feet to maneuver you over to the man who smiles and stands once he sees you approaching. “Ms. Y/N, good morning.”

“Good morning.” You’re a little caught off guard when he takes the empty seat from across from him and pulls it out, a silent move of help. Sitting down, he pushes your chair in then walks back over to his own. He laces his fingers together on top of the table. “Get whatever you’d like, on me, remember?”

“Oh, I’m not very thirsty right now.”

“No, please. It’s my pleasure, especially for meeting with me so early this morning.”

A part of you wants to deny his niceness. But, he did cause you to lose money you could’ve still had to spare if you didn’t have to call in Sana to watch Koji. And well, coffee always makes you feel better. “Just an iced vanilla latte.”

He nods and stands up. “Great, I’ll be back.”

Watching him go up to the counter and order, you look back down at your lap. Koji misbehaving sounds odd, he’s always been an obedient kid. Of course he has his moments, but he understands when to listen and when to goof around. A few minutes later, Mr. Ito sits back down with two cups of coffee, sliding yours over to you. You thank him and sip. Hm, not too bad.

There’s a small silence that flows over you two as you taste your coffees, but you wait for him to speak first. He did schedule this little meeting, after all. He clears his throat. “So, Ms. Y/N, again thank you for meeting with me.”

You nod. “Of course, Mr. Ito. Anything for Koji.”

Mr. Ito smiles, his hand waving you off. “Oh please, call me Haruto.”

Already trying to get on a first name basis. Simply nodding again, you raise an eyebrow for him to continue.

“Anywho, like I said earlier this week, I have concerns about Koji’s behavior. You see, he’s had about six instances where he doesn’t listen to me when I say it’s time for silent reading time. I understand he’s a talkative child, but he usually does not act out like this. Would you happen to have any idea as to why he is behaving this way so suddenly?”

“No, I don’t. Koji listens well, and he hasn’t come to me specifically about getting in trouble.” You respond, lips pursing.

Mr. Ito nods in understanding. “I can assume so, but his behavior has started affecting his peers, as well.”

You sit up straighter in your chair. “In what way?”

“Well,” Mr. Ito tilts his head, seemingly recounting the times Koji has misbehaved. “The students who sit around him have started coming to me, complaining about how Koji doesn’t leave them alone. They feel as if he’s taking away from their learning.”

What? Not to mention that that sounds quite…interesting for other five year olds to say, but no way Koji has been that bad. Maybe it’s your bias as his parent, but this is brand new to you, very brand new. Even when he’s home, Koji always insists on doing his homework before playing or eating dinner. So really, you’re not sure how to react to this surge of new information about your own child. “I really don’t know, Mr. Ito. I mean, Koji is a great boy, he listens very well to me and the other adults in his life. I’m just as shocked as you are right now.”

Mr. Ito leans back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “I’m not doubting your parenting skills. Koji’s clearly a bright and energetic boy. Maybe too energetic for some of his classmates to handle.” His tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent there, something you can’t quite place. “It’s possible he’s just seeking attention in ways that might not be obvious at home.”

You nod slowly, though his words don’t sit right with you. Koji doesn’t come across as attention-seeking at all. If anything, he’s a bit reserved until he’s comfortable around someone. “I’ll talk to him tonight and see if I can figure out what’s going on. Maybe there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mr. Ito says, his smile deepening as he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. The movement feels deliberate, like he’s closing some invisible gap between the two of you. “You’ve always struck me as a very attentive parent.”

The compliment lands awkwardly, and you find yourself straightening your back again, instinctively pulling away from his lingering gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Ito,” you say curtly, steering the conversation back to its purpose. “I just want to make sure Koji’s doing well and that his behavior isn’t affecting his classmates.”

“Of course,” he says smoothly, not missing a beat. “And I’m here to help however I can. We could even set up regular meetings if you’d like, to make sure we stay on the same page about Koji’s progress.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you say, your polite tone edging into firmness. “But I do appreciate the offer.”

His smile falters for a brief moment, but he quickly recovers, leaning back in his chair as though he hadn’t just been testing the waters. “Understood. Please, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything. My door is always open.”

You nod, feeling a distinct shift in the atmosphere—one you’re eager to step away from. “Well, are there any other concerns I should know about, Mr. Ito?”

He looks like he wants to say more, but decides against it. “No, Ms. Y/N. None at all, thank you for coming out.”

“Thank you for the coffee, have a nice day.” You reply, wasting no time in standing up, grabbing your drink in one hand and bag in the other. Though, his voice speaking again causes you to stop.

“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Ito’s voice stops you just as you push your chair back. You glance at him over your shoulder, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “I really hope I didn’t come across as too forward earlier. I’m just...invested in making sure Koji has everything he needs to thrive.”

You offer a polite smile, settling the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Of course, Mr. Ito. I appreciate that.”

He smiles, but there’s a pause before he continues. “It’s rare, you know, to see a parent as involved as you are. It’s refreshing.”

The compliment makes you pause, and you clutch your coffee cup a little tighter. “Well, Koji’s my world,” you reply simply, brushing off the remark.

“As he should be.” Mr. Ito leans back in his seat, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his own drink. “But I imagine that must get exhausting sometimes, especially since you seem to handle everything on your own.” His tone is casual, but there’s a softness to it, as if he’s inviting you to confide in him.

You blink, his words catching you off guard. Is he fishing for something? “It’s not always easy,” you admit cautiously, “but that’s just part of being a parent.”

“True,” he says with a small nod, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long. “Still, you shouldn’t hesitate to lean on the people around you when you need to. It’s not a sign of weakness, you know.”

You stiffen slightly, unsure how to interpret his words. They seem innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flickers toward you feels... calculated. “I manage just fine, thank you,” you reply, keeping your tone light but firm.

“Of course,” he says smoothly, raising his hands slightly as if to placate you. “You strike me as someone who handles things with grace. It’s admirable.”

You glance at your watch, eager to end the conversation. “Well, I should get going. I’ll talk to Koji about everything we discussed.”

“Of course.” Mr. Ito stands as you do, his smile as steady as ever. “Thank you again for meeting me. And...if you ever want to talk more, even just about life in general, I’d be happy to listen.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, and you force another polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. Have a good day.”

“I can walk you to your car, I’m heading out as well.” He quickly suggests.

You shake your head almost instantly, smile feeling more narrow. “No need, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“But I—“

“Thank you again, but I really must go.” You cut him off, feeling your patience run thin and the desire to be cordial and polite stretching too much. You nod stiffly and turn around to briskly walk out the cafe. However, just as you do so, you collide into something, or someone.

Your open-lidded coffee fumbles a bit in your hand, quickly steadying it. Though it does manage to stain the white shirt of the person you just bumped into. Just great. You hold back a wince and apologize. “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t—“

Your words leave you, your breath feeling like it’s been stolen straight from your chest. Every hair on your body stands up straight, your heart falling straight to your ass like you’ve just hit the biggest drop on a rollercoaster. You know that feeling when you question if something is real or not, pleading with yourself and every deity watching that it’s not? Well, that’s exactly how you feel right now.

It feels like a spotlight has been shone on you without your consent and you suddenly want to throw up. Because as your eyes have moved up to profusely apologize to the stranger, a bucket of water filled with nostalgia and past memories drowns you.

The bright blue, unmistakable irides stare back down at you. A million memories play on repeat, but one thing’s for certain.

The past has never felt so close, and you suddenly want to erase it all and scream.

a/n: the dreaded reunion is here! thank you for reading and the tremendous support! <3 stay tuned for next chap, sorry if yall thought these two were boring, chapter 3 will be getting more into it

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins @sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited @duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee @devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts

[yournightmary]

Vi HCs

content warning:: i guess there’s some angst? but it’s arcane so it’s nothing new

AN:: just a mix of different headcannons to get me through season 2.

pitfighter!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I’m sorry but she smells so bad. I’m not talking about a little stink- she smells fucking rancid. It’s a mix of sweat, alcohol, blood, hair dye and sometimes even puke. I don’t think she even showers properly, she just runs a wet towel over her body and calls it a day.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She dyes her hair with the cheapest hair dye in front of her cracked mirror- that’s why it’s so shitty. Doesn’t buy enough and ends up not covering her ends every single time.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Barely has any clothes. Owns 3 pairs of jeans and 4 shirts, all of them ragged and stained. Doesn’t even wear the shirts most of the time, she just wraps her chest with bandages.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ At first she didn’t want to do the eyeliner thing but a few fellow fighters told her it’s something to be recognized and remember for. For the first few times she actually payed attention to how she’s applying it, but after that she said fuck it and just slapped it on. Also she doesn’t use proper eyeliner, maybe something like water-activated face paint.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Really craves touch. She’ll glue herself to random girls (bonus points if they have dark blue hair) at bars and blame it on being drunk. Nothing sexual, just plain affections.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Her every day looks the same. Wake up in the middle of the day, sulk on the shitty mattress that she calls her bed, work out, put on her make up, head to the pit, drink till the morning. There’s literally no difference in them.

young!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I don’t know where i’ve read it I think it was like an interview or something but she’s literally just a girl. She didn’t want to be the strong fighter that everyone knows not to mess with, but that’s who she has to be to survive in the Undercity.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Definitely gave music a try. Like be so fr, she has a saxophone on her bed. Maybe she found it on a job and thought it was too cool to sell. Always wanted to play guitar but it was out of her price range.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She knew she liked girls from very early on and so did everyone around her. She didn’t hide it from anyone, there was literally no reason to. In season 1 you can even see she has a poster of a half-naked woman next to her bed, like come on now.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I’ve seen people saying that she doesn’t know how to make food but hear me out. I think she’s actually a pretty good cook due to her being the ‘caretaker’ when Vander couldn’t do it. Definitely cooked for Powder when she woke her up in the middle of the night because she was so hungry it was bordering on being painful.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She cuts her own hair. One time she fucked up so bad she had to shave her whole side and it just kind of stayed with her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Never does anything for herself. Whenever she finds something- like clothes or food- she gives it to someone else. Always makes sure the others have enough before she takes something for herself.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She feels so guilty after stealing stuff from other people. She’s not stupid and she knows how hard life in the underground is, and that it justifies her actions but still- she’ll roll from side to side instead of sleeping, thinking about how much of a shitty person she is.

dating!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Literally the best girlfriend out there and I will die on this hill.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s so touch-starved it’s unbelievable. When she was a teen she didn’t really experience anything relationship-like and then she got locked up for a few years. She’ll always have her arm around you, her hand on your hip or waist.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Oh my god her hugs are so good ahhhh. It’s just like being wrapped up in a warm blanket. Really likes to give hugs from behind too.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Loves cuddling, especially if it involves her lying on top of you. She doesn’t need any pillows if she has you and your lap, stomach or chest.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She is such an acts of service girl. And it goes both ways! If you make her dinner or plan a whole date by yourself she’ll feel so loved.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She stares so much it’s borderline creepy. She’ll just look at you in silence for a few minutes before turning her head away with a smile, thinking about how lucky she is to have you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You’ll be cuddling with her before sleep, scratching her back or scalp for the whole time. Once you think she’s asleep you stop and she immediately looks up at you with furrowed brows, asking why you stopped.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ While she is proud of her physique and stuff she does feel self conscious about her hands. Mostly because of all the scars and bruises, maybe a little because of how manly they look.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She was a victim of being treated like a guy because she’s more masculine presenting than feminine. Pay for her food at a restaurant, do her makeup, tell her she looks pretty not handsome.

[obsessedwithlute]

If The Hazbin Hotel Characters Worked At A School

Charlie- You might think Charlie would be the principal but NO! Charlie is the therapist! She tries to get everyone into her office for a session by the end of the year- including the teachers! Vaggie- Vaggie would teach mainstream math. Her favorite thing about teaching math is giving people extra homework when they disrupt her class. (A lot of people leave with extra homework. One time Angel Dust walked in on her in the middle of a test, and she made him do a homework sheet).

Angel Dust- He is a substitute. He's actually qualified to teach computer science, but he doesn't. It's his best kept secret why he doesn't.

Husk- He teaches Italian. He's not properly fluent in Italian and only got the job because Lucifer lost a gamble to him and Husk said he'd let him keep his money if he did "one tiny favor". Angel Dust likes to lurk outside Husk's classroom when he gets the chance, and the second Husk mispronounces a word, Angel will stick his head in, correct him and then dart back out. Husk pretends to hate it but he actually finds it really hot. (Angel Dust was also actually the one who TAUGHT Husk Italian).

Lucifer- Lucifer is the principal. He doesn't really care what most of his employees do, including stalking the Italian teacher, cruel and unusual punishment during guitar lessons, or fucking in the janitor's closet. As long as "most of his employees" doesn't include Alastor.

Alastor- Alastor actually teaches health, or sex ed, or whatever you call it. He went to college and got a degree and didn't do it "The Husk Way" all so he could do two things: 1. Properly represent queer people, especially trans people, during the class because he knows, as a trans person, that it's really hard not to feel undermined during the class. 2. Make jokes about being an asexual person teaching sex ed (I'm not asexual/aromantic but it just seems like the kind of thing Alastor would do- especially considering how he reacts to Angel badly propositioning him). If you make a queerphobic comment in Alastor's class, you're dead. Possibly literally. Alastor never actually adheres to the curriculum, and Lucifer keeps trying to break into his class and catch him but somehow Al is always two steps ahead. When Lucifer is not at school, Alastor takes his whole class down to the kitchens and has them make jambalaya for the whole period. If you can't eat jambalaya, Alastor has a whole closet full of alternative ingredients for you but EVERYONE IS EATING SOME FORM OF JAMBALAYA OR EVERYONE HAS TO FIX ALASTOR'S VINTAGE RADIOS DURING DETENTION FOR A MONTH.

Lute- She teaches biology and is that one teacher who everyone either loves or hates. She runs the GSA and has weekly meetings and she's also the teacher who becomes your replacement mom if your real mom sucks. (This also applies to the teachers, she's also basically Angel Dust's mother by now). If you make a queerphobic comment in her class, she will stalk for exactly two weeks after you say it, slowly recording every single discriminatory thing you say. Then she will make you stay after school hours and reads off her entire list. Then she assigns you detention for two weeks and makes you write a 5-page essay on whatever chapter of Queer Ducks her heart desires in size 8 Arial font during the few precious hours of the day you don't have detention.

Adam- He teaches the jazz band, and if you play guitar, you get double lessons. Twice a month, Adam conducts tests randomly. You have to get up and play a song of his choice- no sheet music allowed. If you mess up even once, Adam gets to smack your guitar with a rock and you get to pay for the damages. (Lucifer knows, doesn't care, and makes rubber duck voodoo dolls all day long.)

Cherri- She teaches gym and if a student isn't running fast enough, she throws basketballs at them. Not hard to HIT them, but just enough to give them some motivation.

Sir Pentious- He doesn't work at this school. He works at a preschool in a different town. But since it's only a half-day, as soon as he gets the chance, he leaves and goes to stare longingly at Cherri while she somehow manages not to get fired. Everyone is just used to him being there, and he's fine with that.

[andbreakmynose]

You Are My Sympathy - My Better Self

You never expected to work as the babysitter for a single father who just happened to be Alex Turner, you also never expected to end up in this situation with the man you technically worked for.

WARNINGS: SMUT!! slight angst, also slight fluff. single dad! alex, the car! alex, age gap (not specified), blowjobs

Word Count: 4.5k

Celebrity babysitter was never something you thought you’d put on your resume. You had been babysitting since your teen years, so it was natural you continued doing it as an adult. It also helped that you really enjoyed it.

One of the worst parts of moving to the city after graduating university was that everything cost more than it did in your small hometown. Paying rent, your student loans, and the general costs of living was becoming difficult on a babysitter's budget, and you felt bad about upcharging your regular clients.

It got worse over the summer; the parent who paid you the best no longer required your services because she got the summer off of work. You were looking everywhere for a new family to work with, but it seems like everyone was asking for too much and paying too little. Sometimes you consider having to get a full-time job instead of just babysitting.

It was a casual comment by your housemate Laura that led you to where you are now. You were complaining about not finding work while downing beers when she joked that maybe there was some celebrity looking for a nanny that would pay you a ton. To her it was a joke, but after she went to bed you spent all night browsing websites that quite literally were for celebrities needing nannies.

You applied for a bunch, but the first one that reached back to you was a single father who was looking for someone to watch his 3-year-old daughter while he worked long hours. Some overnights would be required, but you’d also be able to sleep in your own bed at night. It sounded perfect.

Going to the interview, you expected anyone but him. You thought you’d be working for some sort of businessman, maybe a CEO, with the amount he was offering as pay. But no, you sat in front of Alex fucking Turner and his 3-year-old daughter, Ayla. You were starstruck at first but got over it when you realized how normal he was. All he wanted was the best for his daughter. He seemed to like you, and so did the little one, so you got the job.

And here you were, getting paid $4,000 a day to take care of the sweetest toddler you had ever worked with.

You sighed, looking over at the clock: 7:50pm, which meant it was about time to put the child to bed. You had bathed her, and she was already in her pajamas, but you were honestly enjoying the current game of Barbie dolls you had going on.

Kneeling on the floor of the cozy but fancy living room, your Barbies were currently busy packing their bags for a trip on their Barbie airplane. The pink plastic airplane was the gift you gave Ayla last Christmas; it wasn’t the most expensive gift, but she absolutely adored it. Alex, in return, got you a new coffee maker that you savored every morning.

You were just about to tell Ayla to put the dolls down and start heading up to the pink plush palace she called her bedroom when the door opened. Alex had come home early.

“Daddy!” The little one cried out when she saw him, toddling over to attach herself to his leg.

He laughed and scooped her up, setting her on his hip.

“Hello yourself, sweetheart,” he boops her nose, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile, and then turns to you. “Was she good today? Cause any trouble?”

You shook your head; you honestly had never had ANY problems with the child.

“She was perfect. And she ate all of her veggies for lunch and dinner!” You tell him with a proud smile that you were both proud of her and satisfied with your own work. You were a good babysitter, and both of you knew it.

“All your veggies? Really? What a good little angel!” Alex beamed, ruffling the girl's head. He made sure to tell you every day how much of a lifesaver you were and how much he appreciated it, but it really wasn’t enough to explain just how grateful he was.

“I was just about to put her to bed; actually, I’m sure she’d love it if you came and read her a bedtime story.” You suggest with a soft smile; you loved Alex’s voice, and you’re sure the little one did too; the idea of him reading a bedtime story sounded like the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard of.

He thought it over for a second before nodding. He was dead tired from his day, but he’d never miss the opportunity for some more time with his little angel, especially since he didn’t get to see her as much as he’d want to.

He motions for you to follow him up the stairs to the pink palace that his daughter called a bedroom, sitting her down on the bed and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Alright, babygirl, Daddy’s going to read you a story, okay?” He says gently; the smile on his face from being around her was like something you’ve never seen before. The little one claps excitedly and gets comfy in her bed while Alex looks at the books scattered on the floor.

“Which does she like?” He asks you; he wants to get it perfect, to make this the best bedtime story for his baby.

You hum as you look through all the books on the floor, eyes settling between two. “She’s a fan of both ‘Goodnight Moon’ and 'If You Give a Mouse a Cookie’, maybe one of those?”

Alex nods and picks up ‘If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,’ grinning widely as he does. “This one sounds good, especially since Daddy really wants a cookie right now.”

His words inspire laughter from all three of you, his being quieter and more reserved at his own joke while yours was sweeter and more of a giggle (the little girl’s laughs were more to copy her two favorite people).

He sits down on the floor next to her and starts to read through the pages: “If you give a mouse a cookie, he will ask for a glass of milk.” His voice is somehow firm and gentle, his accent giving almost a form of refinement to the stupid words on the pages. You sit down next to him and watch in awe as he goes through the different accents and makes different sounds to represent what he’s reading. It’s clear he was in showbusiness; if he wasn’t a singer, he might be a damn good actor.

By the time he’s finished the book, her eyes are already shut and small snores are coming from her tiny lips. To Alex, it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen, but you’d say that’s actually the sight of him watching her with so much adoration in his eyes.

He stands up and beckons you out of the room, shutting off the light and closing the door.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks you, thinking about the new bottle of Merlot he bought a week ago and hadn’t really had the time to get to yet.

You should probably say no; you still have to walk home. But there’s such a sparkle in his eyes that you really just can’t say that to him. So instead, you nod and follow him to the kitchen.

The conversation is simple as he pours the first glasses; he asks about what you and Ayla did today, and you ask him about his day at work. He never really says much about his job; you assume there’s some sort of confidential stuff with the album he’s recording. It’s fine though; you can’t expect him to let his guard down around you.

“You know you’re the first fan I’ve ever shared a glass of wine with?” He says with a small smirk, He thinks you’re unreasonably pretty, but he’d never say that. To him, you’re the savior of his life, making sure the only person he cares about is safe and happy.

“I’m sure I’m also the first fan who’s ever gotten to watch Peppa Pig with your daughter.” You joke back, bringing the glass to your lips. Alex laughs at your joke; his eyes are tired, but they still light up just at the idea of you and his kid.

“You’re so good with her. I know I say that every time we talk, but you truly are so good with her.” His compliments never fail to truly touch your heart, especially since you know he means them completely.

"Aw, you’re welcome. You may be the most unusual family I’ve worked with, but she’s one of the sweetest kids.” You smile back at him; it also never hurts to have your work complimented.

“I think she wishes you were part of our family full time; every time I take her to an outing, she asks if you’re coming too.” He looks over at you as his lips attach to the wine glass; he doesn’t include the part about how he’d also like you to be part of the family; it’s all about the little one.

“She’s such a darling!” You reply, making an ‘aww’ face at his words. The idea that you’ve been such an important part of this child's (and this rockstar’s) life is so special.

“You know if you ever want me to come to those things and be an extra pair of hands, I’d be honored; you don’t even have to pay me. You already pay me enough.”

Alex nods at your suggestion; it’s a nice idea. He’d love to bring you to cookouts with the rest of the band and playdates with the other parents he knows. He’d love to bring you around anywhere; you were really one of the most gentlehearted people he’s ever met.

“I’ll have to take you up on that sometime soon.” He says, straightening his button down slightly. He hasn’t had a chance with you alone like this in a long while; maybe it was time for him to finally say what he’s wanted to.

“You know love,” he starts, the pet name not going over your head. “I think you’re really special. One of the kindest women I’ve ever met. And I know how much you get along with Ayla, but I’d love to just get to know you one on one more. Would that be okay?”

He’s anxious at his own suggestion; if you don’t approve and find him weird, you could get mad at him. And the worst-case scenario is that you could quit and he’d have to find a new babysitter; none would be as good as you.

His words might just be music to your ears; you always found him rather attractive, and seeing him and his daughter evoked feelings you didn’t really understand, but you never wanted to let yourself think about that further. He was technically your boss, but he was also suggested going on what sounded like a date. Every professional bone inside of you was screaming at you to say no, but goddamnit, you haven’t been on a date in years now.

“I’d love to!” Is the word you decide on, a smile appearing on both of your faces instantly?

Alex thanks the Lord internally that you didn’t flip out and that you actually seemed excited about the whole thing. So many ideas flood his head of what he could do to make this date perfect for you.

“Do you like Italian food? There’s this really nice place down the street that I’ve been to a few times. It's also super quiet, so no one can bother us,” he suggests. He hadn’t actually been at that restaurant since he was with his ex-girlfriend, Ayla’s mother, but he’s been meaning to go back.

You nodded almost instantly; you did love Italian food. It was like he could read your mind; that was literally your idea of the perfect first date. The idea of it being quiet was also appealing; she’s heard stories from him of what it can be like when fans or paparazzi find him.

“Sounds lovely!”

Alex beams at your words, a wide smile appearing on his face. He was already deciding on when to take you and what he was going to wear. You were just so special, and he wanted to make sure you knew how much he cared about you and appreciated you.

“You’re lovely, truly. I don’t think you know how lovely you are.” His voice is warm, and he takes your hands in his. He hasn’t felt this giddy about a woman in years, and he almost felt like a teen again.

“You flatter me; you’re a lovely person too, and a great father.” You respond to him, looking down at your joint hands. Sometimes he was so in his own head and it bothered you; he was just so special.

He lets out a low laugh and shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling for a second.

"God, no, I’m a mess. And I’m barely a father; you do more work than me.” His words were sad, but he meant them; he never felt truly good enough in any way. As a musician he thought he was past his prime, and as a father he thought he was an utter failure. It was you that kept his family afloat.

You furrow your eyebrows at his words; they hurt you for some reason. You’ve seen him and his daughter; they were so happy together. She loved him, and you could tell he thought she was the most beautiful person on earth.

You gently release your hands from his and cup his face. “Hey no. That’s not true. You are such a good father; your daughter loves you so much.”

He lets out a small gasp at the feeling of your hands on his face; it was a tenderness he hadn’t felt in about as long as he could remember. He never let his guard down, and now you were practically coaxing him into being vulnerable and open, and he felt safe. At the sound of his gasp, your own heart starts to beat faster, and you rest your forehead against his. It’s a silent gesture to show him that you really, truly care. And he feels it, and for once the world doesn’t feel so awful.

He looks up at you with his dark eyes, waiting for a silent signal of anything. He wasn’t going to push you into something; he just wanted you to stay. You let out a small nod; he could probably manipulate you into joining a cult at this very moment.

He leans slightly closer to you, his lips almost touching yours before he pulls away. He can’t be the one to kiss you; that would be breaking every rule. It’s an easy thing to notice how hesitant he seems, and it’s almost adorable to you. You grin up at him, reassuring him by squeezing his cheek with the hand still on his face. Realizing he’s probably too shy to be the one to break a boundary, you decide to cross every bridge, pressing your lips gently against his.

His lips are dry and cracked; he probably didn’t think about taking care of them. He didn’t have a reason to; he wasn’t really planning on kissing anyone until all of this. The kiss is simple, the type that you see at the end of an old Hollywood movie where they weren’t allowed to make out. He takes a second to fumble with his hands; he doesn’t really feel like going directly into groping right now. His biggest fear is scaring you off. So instead he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

Even if the kiss wasn’t passionate, there was more emotion found in his lips against yours than any makeout session you had with college boyfriends. He felt truly cared for for the first time in a while; you just felt head over heels crazy about him.

Slowly, after he pulls away for a deep breath and to take in your rosy cheeks, he deepens the kiss. It starts with him gently licking at the bottom of your lip; it’s light enough that if you want to pull away, you can, but you don’t. You give him the permission he wants, and he swirls his tongue into the cavern of your mouth. He wants to get to know every inch of you—everything that made you the sweetest girl he had ever met.

The insides of his mouth had an aftertaste of coffee and cigarettes, just as you may have predicted in your late-night fantasies. There was rarely a time you saw him without one of the two, and it was endearing how that even crossed into his kisses. He hugs you impossibly closer before removing his lips from yours.

“You’re so fucking perfect. I don’t understand how I deserve you. I’m a fucked up single dad; I pay you to help me make my life less chaotic. I don’t deserve your tenderness.” He starts to ramble, pressing his head against yours again. His words ignite a spark in your chest; it’s just so untrue that it makes you angry. You wish there was a way to explain to him that he was doing nothing wrong; he was maybe the best parent you’ve ever seen.

Your brain is filled with thoughts on how you could reassure him, but there’s no words you can think of. You look down at his jeans and then back up at him.

“Can I show you how enchanted I am by you? How much I don’t care about your flaws?” You ask him, hand gently ghosting over his hips. His breath hitches, and he nods. There’s a deep worry at the back of his throat that you may feel obliged to do this, but the devotion in your eyes changes his mind instantly.

“Of course, sunshine. I’d love that.” He smiles at you as you sink to your knees on the kitchen floor, looking up at him with a warm beam. ‘Sunshine’ was one of the first things he ever said to you; on the first day you worked with Ayla, he told you that you were just like a work of art.

You wrap your fingers into his belt buckle and remove it, setting it on the floor next to you. You’ve given plenty of blowjobs, but this one felt more personal, more important. As stupid as it sounded, you felt like the safety of the world depended on you sucking his dick at this very moment.

By the time you slide his jeans and boxers off, you’re met with the fact that he’s big, like really big, and he isn’t even fully hard. Of course he was big; he was a fucking rockstar. There was no way he wasn’t big. But you were still a bit nervous that you wouldn’t be able to handle it all.

As if he could sense your hesitation about his size, he ropes his fingers into your hair and forces you to look up at him. “Take the time you need sunshine; you’ll be perfect, I promise.”

His words not only send a wave of arousal between your thighs, but they also give you the reassurance you need. Wrapping your hand around his thick cock firmly, you give him a few pumps to get him totally hard.

It doesn’t take long; he’s so attracted to you, and this moment was just so fucking hot. His cock is even bigger than you could’ve imagined; you hollow your cheeks just looking at it. It takes you a minute to think of where to start, but you remembered one thing your ex-boyfriend loved.

You begin by peppering his shaft with soft kisses, going all the way from the head to his balls (you pay extra attention to his balls, noticing the way his breath hitches at the lightest bit of contact). This is almost exactly what Alex would’ve expected from you; even the way you sucked Dick was sweet and tender.

After his dick is thoroughly covered with every kiss possible, you wrap your hand around the base and lean forward, swirling your tongue around the tip. His breath hitches, and he fights back his body’s urge to thrust forward; he wanted to let you take as long as you needed.

It starts with gentle licks and suckers; you want to warm your mouth up. It’s been a while. You do eventually start to suck on his head, hollowing out your cheeks so you can go farther. You don’t start to bob on his cock immediately, just a few gentle sucks. You look up at him for confirmation that you were doing okay.

Of course you were doing okay; it’s been so long that you could’ve just grazed his dick with your pinky and he would’ve exploded everywhere. He gives you a reassuring smile and brings his hand to your hand, gently guiding you to start bobbing.

That’s just what you needed—the slight act of dominance. You start moving your mouth up and down his shaft, your mouth feeling so perfectly full. The first time you try to deepthroat him, you gag, his dick hitting a spot pretty deep in your throat.

Alex, gentleman he is, immediately pulls you off and looks at you with concern, but you shake your head. “I’m fine, Alex, I promise,” you say before reattaching yourself to his hardness. This time it’s more passionate, faster. You’re remembering everything that made past partners tick, and you’re learning what Alex loves.

For example, he lets out a guttural moan when you gently fondle his balls, but you could’ve guessed that from the way he reacted to the kisses earlier. He moans again when you suck on him AND swirl your tongue at the same time, and you can hear the way his breath changes based on how fast or slow you’re going.

Once you determine the pace that’s drawing the most whines out of you, he brings his hand back to your head, guiding you down his cock further. This time you’re able to go all the way down, and with his full cock in the back of your throat, you look up at him with a sense of pride. All you ever want to be is helpful for him, doing the most. He gives you a tap on the back as if to say ‘good job.’ These seconds of quiet without your head moving remind you that you’re so soaked the floor is probably wet, and then he pushes you back up.

You keep this rhythm for a while, alternating between sucking him and letting him guide your head. You know he’s close; you can sense the way he’s starting to twitch in your mouth, and his heartbeat is starting to become erratic. He wants to cum in your mouth, on you, inside you, anywhere he could get it. He’s starting to become obsessed.

“Can I cum in your mouth sunshine?” He asks you, voice breaking a few times in his sentence. He doesn’t know what you’re okay with yet; maybe you’re the type of girl that would prefer to be covered in his spillage.

You pull away enough to respond, watching the way his shaft is almost convulsing. “I would love for you to cum in my mouth,” you say with a grin before laughing slightly. It was an absurd statement to say to someone who was practically your boss, but it was also really damn hot at the moment. He laughs too; he liked that he could do that while still having sex with you.

His laughs, however, are interrupted by you suddenly deepthroating him, looking up at him with eyes that are just giving him permission to cum down your hot throat. After a few more suckers, he starts to grip the kitchen counter and loses control over his hips and breath; if he wasn’t so turned on, he’d think he looks pathetic. To you, it’s beautiful that he’s coming apart and you’re bringing him this level of pleasure.

He whines when his loads start to spill into your throat, pulling out of you and gripping harder to the counter. It takes him a minute to steady his breath, admiring the way your eyes are lust-blown and the sight of your throat swallowing.

There was a lot of cum, but it was his. You liked that it was his, and you made sure to swallow it all. It didn’t have a taste you could really identify, so you decided to call it 'Alex.' It was him at his most vulnerable. You loved it.

He pulls his pants up, shuffling for his belt on the floor. You look over at the time, 10:30; you should probably get home soon before your roommate starts to worry.

“I want to return the favor. Let me taste you.” He says suddenly, almost begging you. It breaks your heart to have to shake your head no.

“I should really get home, but I’ll have to take you up on that offer later. Maybe after that date, yeah?” You smile warmly at him, grabbing his clammy hand and squeezing it a few times. He pouts in protest but then nods; he didn’t want you to be too tired at work tomorrow either.

"Alright, love, I’ll see you here tomorrow in the morning, yeah? I probably won’t be home until late again, big studio session. But I’ll make sure to take Friday off for our date.” He grins; just the idea of taking you on a date fills him with a warmth only his daughter had made him feel in the past years.

You pull him into a hug and press a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Alex. Maybe I’ll take Ayla to the park.” You grab your bag and start to walk towards the door, your face still flushed pink. “I can’t wait for our date.”

He gives a nod in agreement at that, too out of words to say anything else. It hurt him to see you leave, but you’d be back in no time.

“And Alex, thank you for letting me be a part of your family. Even if our dynamic is changing.” You reach the door, opening it with your hand.

“Thank you for being a part of our family, Sunshine. I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

AN: was reading jane eyre (also where the title came from) when i came up with this, i got really obsessed with that dynamic. might turn this into a series idk

[thr0wnawayy]

Where Are They At?: A look into a Post Liberation World

Hey y'all. This post serves as an overview/in sight into MHA's world post Liberation War.

Unlike my previous posts these will be written from an "outside" perspective. Another thing I should note is in regards to the movies (can also apply to the LN):

Taken from my notes: (Movies aren't canon but the characters and settings are [ WHM being the exception due to fitting in the vanilla TL) -Thr0wnawayy

The Shimano family had their island home ruined in the wake of the PLW.

After the heroes used the villains as cannon fodder and warped them across Japan(and co), the Shimano's found themselves at a loss.

1. Villains had quite literally fallen out of the sky

2. The battles they fought were inescapable due to having no safe way off the island.

Most of the island had been rendered inhospitable in the aftermath.

With nowhere to go* the entire community fell apart. The Shimano's fled to America to start a new life, meeting the Tsuyoshi's along the way.

Their story is one of many, those who could afford it left the country for good. Becoming known as the "Seekers" (In Australia they're called Roosties, in Otheon they are called Sköll)

_______________________________________

Without getting too much into spoilers, here's some world news:

Nedzu's pressuring only lead to greater resentment from aiding countries.

The amount of favours Nedzu had to cash in was astronomical and this led to the country sinking further into debt due to acquiring interest, with Japan now owing the various countries debt money.

Stars and Stripes Death will be seen as the equivalent of a second pearl habour by the US (and yes, history has been preserved well enough for MHA's America to remember that.)

Further contributing to America's hate of Japan was the fact that when the (Endeavor-Dabi) drought hit the west coast, the other nations had no resources left to extend. Not for the US and not for themselves, with the effort to rebuild Japan having drained their finances (even with the cut corners).

Thus souring the HPSC's/Japan's relations further with the world stage, worse still, most of the buildings were temporary (being meant to be redone or renovated), not structurally stable and meant to be lived in for 2-5 years at best.

U.A was especially a victim of this, with repairs having been rushed in time for graduation (which further tightened UA's spending). Over-all It was a rush job and corners had to be cut to meet deadlines

Uraraka Construction and many other companies had their reputations rise and fall seemingly over night (though this wont happen until 1A reaches their 3rd year).

In the aftermath of the war, single parent families and orphan rates have skyrocketed.

Midoriya's weather changing punch fucked up the meteorologist's data, no one could have seen the drought coming.

Not all the footage recorded by the businesses course was used (approved) for the broadcast

*if you thought the rebuilding efforts were bad in the mainland, then it was practically nonexistent for the islanders, being the most neglected group besides quirkless individuals.

It should be noted that Monoma was the one to create the portals using Kurogiri's quirk, however he lacked both the experience and fine control necessary for accuracy. Hence why some of the portals were in the sky, this also contributed to the random placement of the portals.

Although only Gigantomachia and The Sludge Villain were put under Shinso's mindcontrol, the general belief of the public is that all the villains were influenced rather than disoriented and panicked.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Gotham Year One | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Magician!OC

Synopsis: Vivian tells the story of her first year in Gotham and her first encounter with the Batman.

Gotham City. They say it's an anarchy city. There’s not a night when that place ever has peace and quiet, and any smart person would rather not move there at all unless they’re on the run. But it was the only place that actually gave me a shot. 

Five universities, four I passed on the entrance exam and application essay but only one offered a full scholarship. It was a hard choice for me and for my family but we all knew it was for the best. So much has happened to me last year that maybe getting a change of scenery and being far away from anyone I knew in that life would be good.

It took a lot of convincing before Dad finally gave in, a lot of talks and arguments, and eventually I asked help from his parents, my grandparents, who were willing to lend me the money to help me settle in Gotham. 

After a seven-hour long flight with only seeing the clouds and, occasionally, the ocean, I finally saw the city. From here, Gotham is clean, shafts of concrete and rooftops. The work of long generations of families who either established themselves to live in the borders of the city or those who have lived in the very heart of Gotham.

So, this is where Mom grew up.

She never really talked much about Gotham, and when she does it always feels like some bad memory. Just as Essex is to me after that night.

I shouldn’t expect any special treatment, I don’t have any relatives that I know of in Gotham, if there were they never bothered to reach out at all, but it would have been nice to have someone waiting for me with my name on some board. 

“It’s Bruce Wayne!’

“Bruce Wayne’s back!”

A bunch of reporters ran past me like I was some sort of ghost they thought they would run through. One asshole literally bumped against my bag and didn’t apologize. He had the nerve to actually say: ‘Watch it!”

Asshole.

The man must be a celebrity since everyone ran up to see him and the fact there was a reporter in the scene saying, “The twenty-five-year-old heir to the Wayne millions declined to comment on rumors of romance in his life or on his plan on his return to Gotham after many years abroad. We’ll keep you posted on Gotham’s richest – and best looking  – native son. Tom?”

Wayne. So, he’s the owner of the Martha Wayne Foundation, the one that accepted my scholarship application all because I said my mom was a Gothamite. The foundation that helped me get to Gotham University too. 

Bruce Wayne… he looks like a prick.

~*~

The apartment I got was a little far from university. Normally, students would take dorms on campus, either buy or rent a condo close there too but with the limited funds I was getting from the Martha Wayne Foundation, I didn’t have that kind of luxury. The apartment was a little small for three occupants but we made it work. My roommates were nice enough to give me the single room while they took the shared bunks since they knew each other longer. The living room was basically our dining place and kitchen, and we only had one bathroom to share.

The place was two bus rides to Gotham University, had some diners and stores around that I could apply for a part-time job. It had a decent security measure which was basically the gated front door with the buzzer. Not that safe but I didn’t tell Dad that.

“Hey, Liverpool!” One of my roommates called for me when I was about to head out to get dinner. They started calling me that when I mentioned where I was from. “Didn’t you say you came from the airport earlier? Did you see him?”

“Who?” I asked, pulling down my headphones.

“Bruce Wayne! He just came back from God-knows-where! Did you see him?”

“Uh, yeah, I saw him.”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“I didn���t really stick that long.”

“Is he really that good looking in real life too?”

I looked at the T.V. and saw the image of the man at the airport. The twenty-five-year-old millionaire who was keeping up the facade of charming and mysterious. “Yeah, that’s his face alright.”

“Did you at least ask for a photo?”

“I didn’t really stick around that much. And I don’t really know him — I mean, I know of him and his family but not him as a celebrity,” before she could ask another question, I cut it, “I’m heading out to get something to eat. You guys want anything?”

“Nah, we’re good. Have fun!” 

“Okay! See you later!”

“Hey, wait up!” Jack, my other roommate, closed the door just as I was about to leave. “Listen, Liverpool. You’re new here, and… maybe going out alone isn’t the best thing to do?”

“I’ll just go across the street, don’t worry. I’ll be back. Eat and run.”

Jack sighed. “Wait here.”

“Okay…”

He left for his room and came out a few minutes later wearing his jacket and shoes. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to —”

“I don’t know what they told you about Gotham. But it’s not a place for someone to go out at night alone.”

“I can handle myself.”

“It won’t go well in my conscience if you were ever mugged or worse out there. And it’s your first night here,” he got out a twenty-dollar bill. “My treat.”

~*~

The diner was decent, they had good food, passable for a three-dollar meal, but bad coffee. Really bad. Jack purposely didn’t tell me how bad it is just to see my face when I take my first sip. 

“How’s Gotham so far?” He asked. ‘Homesick yet?”

“Not so much, maybe when I’m alone it’ll kick in.”

“Not close with family?”

“I am. We are close. It took a while for my dad to let me do this – travel across an ocean to got to a university in a place that I know no one.”

“What about your mom?”

“She died a couple of years back.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t know. You’re going to GU too, right?”

“Yeah.”

I waited for a while to hear an explanation but he didn’t follow up.  “What are you taking?”

“Engineering — well, software engineering. I got in on a scholarship. The Martha Wayne Foundation. You?”

“History Majoring in Symbology and Iconography.”

“An odd choice. You don’t really hear many people taking that specific course around here. Especially pretty girls like you.”

“Really?” I smirked. “It’s my first night here, at least wait a couple of days before saying something like that.”

Jack raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry. But can you blame me? It’s not everyday you find a fresh face in Gotham. Let alone someone who still has high hopes in this dump.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“I’ll  give you three days before you start cursing these streets and its people.”

“Don’t need to wait three days,” I couldn’t help the grin. “So, you and Heather… are you both…”

Jack shrugged. “We’re old high school classmates who found a familiar face during the entrance exams and thought of renting a place. It was a good plan – two people sharing an apartment — until the jack-ass who own the building raised the rent.”

“Hence the two-bedroom apartment became a two-bedroom for three,” Vivian concluded. “I get it… can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“I’ve read about Gotham, its history, the families, but the Waynes…” Jack grinned. “I’m just asking because I saw Bruce Wayne in the airport and he seems like a big deal, and I feel like I should know him considering I’m also in the Martha Wayne Foundation — well, my scholarship is.”

Jack took a breath. “Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s Prince… the youngest millionaire there is, and only because he was born in the right family. Where to begin?”

“He’s that complicated?”

“No, but I don’t want to scare you or something.”

“Believe me, I don’t scare that easily.”

“Everyone knows about the Waynes, especially Bruce Wayne. They’re like — well, for a time, they were Gotham’s saviors. They were people who actually wanted to make a change. Can’t say they were like Kennedy but, you get the picture. Doctor Thomas Wayne was the head of the family, he married Martha Kane — daughter of one of Gotham’s old rich families too. 

“Come close. Look there. See that? There, just beyond the train rails, you’ll see a tower with all the gargoyles. See it?”

I followed to where he pointed outside the window. It was dark but when the helicopter passed by the sky, a silhouette of a building appeared. 

“That’s Wayne Tower, the tallest building there is in Gotham. That says a lot on how rich the Waynes are and how powerful they were.”

“Were?”

“Almost twenty years ago, Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot in Crime Alley. The family was just heading home from the theater – God-knows-why they went to Crime Alley in the first place. But to witness it all was their son, Bruce Wayne.”

“Shit.”

“Since then, they said, Wayne became paranoid or something, then he started to self-destruct, then he disappeared and a couple of years later he came back.”

“And no one knows where he went.”

Jack shook his head. “The reason why I didn’t want to tell you is because… if powerful people like the Waynes can be shot down just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “What chance do we have down here?”

He has a point.

~*~

It was wrong. I knew it, but I blame homesickness.

I couldn’t sleep thanks to jetlag, and I can’t exactly walk around the city at this time. The sound of the police cars was a dead giveaway to that. So, I decided to just smoke at the fire exit. Turns out my fire exit was connected to the other room where Jack and Heather bunked.

It started as an innocent time of smoking and drinking — he brought a can of shitty beer with him — then one thing led to another, he was kissing me and we were in my bed.

He wasn’t that good. The entire time I was just faking the sounds I made so it wasn’t awkward silence. There were times he hit a spot but it wasn’t as fulfilling as John would. I had to resort to playing with myself while he fucked me. 

When he came he pulled out, despite wearing a condom. Old habits, he said, while I was left with nothing. 

“You good?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” I went to put on my underwear and my shirt. “I… uh… thanks, I guess?”

He chuckled. “No problem.”

“But you do know that this won't happen again, right? I mean, I like –” Liar. “ — but it’ll just be complicated with us there in the place and you’re sharing a room with Heather.”

“Just a one-night thing, I’m cool with that,” he shrugged. “But if you ever want to again, you know where to find me.” He got up from my bed and left the room. 

Good job, Vivian. First night here and you already fucked your roommate and compared him to your ex-boyfriend who tried to kill  you. Get yourself together.

~*~

The semester started sooner than I had hoped, rather sooner than my jetlag hoped. But I was more than happy to start going to classes just to get away from that apartment. Jack and Heather were nice, they were good roommates, but it was awkward to be in the same place as two people who were — as Jack said — just fucking, and Jack constantly flirts whenever I hang out in the living room or his self-made invitations whenever I would step out.

His reason: he didn’t want to find his new roommate’s face on Gotham News tonight as one of the city’s latest victims. 

I got a job. It was at the diner I frequented since coming here, the owner welcomed part-timers more than full-time employees. My shifts there are graveyard hours, which was perfect since there was rarely anyone coming in and I get to study. But tips would be nice too. Most of the customers here are either GCPD grabbing a grub or those you’d not make eye-contact with.

After years of running around with Constantine going to shitty places, dealing with shitty and sinister people, you’ll learn to read people and other beings. And these have the face that says trouble.

“What cha readin’ there, sweetheart?” One of the men in the booth called out to me.

“Just a book,” I answered and went back to reading.

“Yeah?” He went out of the booth and approached the counter I was at. “What’s it about?”

Shit.

“It's Telling the Truth About History by Joyce Appleby, Lynn Hunt and Margaret Jacob. It’s Historical Methodology.”

“You wanna be a history teacher or somethin’?”

“In a way. Excuse me, I’ll just head inside to check if your orders are ready.” And to get the fuck away from you.

But the man grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. “Come on now, dollface. How about you read to us a little?”

“No.”

His companions laughed. “Look at that, she can’t stand to look at your ugly face!”

He scoffed. “Come on, you’re coming with us, dollface!”

“I said, no –”

“Let the girl go,” a deep voice with a Jamaican accent echoed in the diner. Vivian knew that voice.

Standing by the glass door, a slim man with a zig-zag beard, wearing a white suite and hat watched them with intense eyes. 

“You,” I didn’t even know I was talking until the man turned to him and nodded in greeting. “Papa Midnite.”

“So, you her papa, huh? Didn’t know, dollface here was that kind of girl. What? The book was just for show?” The man holding my wrist pulled me closer to him and pointed a gun at my face.

What the fuck?!

“If you do not let her go, all of you will die right on this floor,” said Papa Midnite.

“Is that right?” His companions got up and pointed their guns at Papa Midnite. “We were going to apologize for our friend’s behavior but now that you mentioned about bashing our heads in, we can’t let that slide.”

Midnite smirked. “I didn’t say I was going to bash your brains, I said, you are going to die.”

The air changed, and one moment the men with the guns were on their feet with their weapons, the next they were on the ground with blood coming out of their bodies. In fact there was a trail coming from that door where Midnite stood.

“What did you…” I asked.

“They died the way their earlier victims did. With holes on their chests. Call your manager from his break and tell him what happened. I will wait for you outside, Vivian Pryor,” Midnite bowed and left.

I did what she told me to do. I told my manager about the men and he called 911. She was suspicious about the coffee I served and the order slips in the queue, but she decided not to ask. She just went along with my story and told the cops the same thing. We were questioned by GCPD, mostly I got the questions. Luckily, the man asking the questions was a kind man and he was new to Gotham too.

Lieutenant Jim Gordon.

If it had been his partner, Glass, I was sure to have been dead the next day. The way he looked at me and those men, it was the kind that says he was on someone's payroll.

Lieutenant Gordon let me go after my story was cleared out, and my manager let me head home early too. As I took my path home, I saw Midnite again. He was waiting this entire time in the shadows.

“Vivian Pryor,” he greeted.

“Papa Midnite,” I said. 

He smiled. “You have grown. The last I saw you, Madeline carried you like a kitten.”

“I remember you too. You and her were… you were kind to us. Midnite, my Mom, she’s…”

“I know. I felt it,” Midnite placed a hand on his chest. “Madeline was a friend. The day she died, I felt her soul leave this realm.”

“I couldn’t find her.”

“And you shouldn’t have tried. You were just attracting the wrong kind of company.”

“Too late for that,” I laughed cynically. “Are we just going to talk here or are we going somewhere?”

“You have classes tomorrow. I’ll walk you home… We'll talk while we walk.”

“Thank you, Midnite.”

The walk was short but Midnite and I circled the block a couple of times to catch up. Not the safest thing to do but I was with a voodoo witch-doctor, so I was in safe hands. He mostly asked about Mom and what happened to us after our last encounter when I was a kid. Turns out he’s heard all of the things I did with John Constantinen. We’ve made a name for ourselves, as it turns out, in our circles.

“What brings you here in Gotham?” Midnite asked.

“I needed to get away.”

“From what?”

“Something happened…”

“Care to elaborate?”

“We took a job as a priest. Some towns were experiencing hallucinations that led to multiple homicides. Turns out it’s the signs of a demon trying to claw its way out of a body. Long story short, it was an exorcism gone wrong, and John thought it would be a good idea to trap the demon inside me and kill us both, because the little shit fancied me.”

“What did you do?”

“I burned everything. The whole block, I was just lucky that no one was living there but the two girls died. John lived, Chas is fine, Ritchie got this demon-infused cancer. And I… I can’t sleep. Well, that and jet lag.”

“And your solution is to move to a city like this?” Midnite laughed.

“It’s the last place where magic would be… or so I thought.”

“Gotham has dark secrets, Vivian. Everything you see now is just smoke and mirrors to the truth below. The owls like to keep watch on things.”

“What?” I laughed. “What’s with the owls?”

“We’re here,” Midnite stopped before my apartment building. “If you are in need of help, call me,” he handed a black calling card to me.

It wasn’t exactly a number. It was simply his name. “Thank you, Papa Midni–”

He was gone as if he was never there in the first place.

~*~

He first appeared on the news with the headline of a giant bat vigilante. Jack and Heather scoffed when we saw it, I simply brushed it off. Then he became a recurring thing on the news as Batman — the GCPD started calling him — were taking out criminals left and right. 

Personally, I was rooting for the guy. After getting mugged that one time while heading home from campus and the police doing shit, I’d feel a lot safer if Batman was around. But why a bat costume, though? Wouldn’t it be easier if he jost ran around with some bullet-proof vest in tactical gear than spandex and a cape?

The police have been trying to capture him. The unfortunate person to get the job was Lieutenant Gordon. What the hell did he do to get on the Commissioner’s bad side?

Months since this Batman started his crime fighting, the streets were a little safer to walk around, still it would be foolish to do so. But police sirens were not so frequent now in the streets, if there was it’ll be in those areas where Batman wouldn’t be or they were trying to capture the vigilante. 

Then there was this one incident that really shook Gotham. The GCPD were able to surround the man, trapping him in a building. We felt it all the way from where we were. The heat, the rumbling of the explosion. GCPD dropped explosives onto those, supposedly, empty buildings just to take out the vigilante.

All of that just for one man, and still Batman got away.

I was reading the newspaper about it during my visit to the Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic at Park Row  to ask about my scholarship, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and dump the paper in the bin as soon as I finished reading the article. I should be reading the material our professor told us to go through Alexander to Actium: The Historical Evolution of the Hellenistic Age. 

“That’s an odd thing to read,” a voice of a man interrupted me before I could finish the second paragraph.

Holy shit! 

“You’re Bruce Wayne,” said. “What are you doing here?”

He raised a brow at me and pointed at the plaque that says Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic and below it was The Wayne Foundation.

Right. Stupid question, but he’s kind of an ass.

“What’s that about?” He asked.

“It explores the political, cultural, and social transformations of the Hellenistic period, from its development from the conquests of Alexander the Great to the rise of Roman dominance at the Battle of Actium,” I explained.

“A wide reader?”

“Reading material for class.”

“Didn’t know they taught that in Gotham Metro.”

“GU.”

“Gotham University, and you’re in this clinic because…”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Vivian Pryor!” The nurse called for me. 

Getting up, I gathered my things and went to the hall where Dr. Leslie was, “Excuse me, Mr. Wayne… ass.” I muttered the last part.

So what I’m a student of GU? Not everyone there is rich like him.

~*~

It was a false positive. 

Good.

~*~

I never thought I’d ever come across Batman. It was one thing to read about him or see him  on the news, it’s another to be the person he was helping. It was stupid of me, really. It was right after my shift, but instead of heading home, I thought of visiting Midnite’s club. I should have just taken a cab than walk, but cab fares were expensive.

I can’t even remember why I needed to go there, not after being held at knifepoint. He came out of nowhere with a knife to my neck and dragged me to the alleyway. His friend, who has been waiting there, held me back while he went through my bag. He threw my books and my notes to the ground and pocketed my wallet and walkman. 

Fuck! Not again.

Why did I need to see Midnite again?

Why did I need to go to his club?

What was it about?

The next thing I knew, his companion grabbed me by my shoulder and pinned me to the wall. He forcibly kicked my legs to spread and I could hear his belt —

“NO! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!” I cried out.

“SHUT UP, BITCH!” He hit me at the head with his gun.

Fuck that hurt and it made me go dizzy. 

I haven’t used my magic in months now — almost a year — I don’t even if I can cast a spell. But with the best I could, voice slurring, I tried to cast an incantation just like Midnite: “D-die–”

The man was removed from me. The next thing I saw was a shadow beating them down to the ground. It was the Batman. He was huge and he was beating down them down like they were nothing. But he wasn’t invincible nor was he perfect in his form. 

“Look out!”

“AUGH!” Batman hissed as one of the men stabbed him at the thigh over and over, making him fall, and the man took this chance to beat the Batman with his companion. 

Forcing myself to my feet, I grabbed one of the metal pipes lying around and whacked the two across the heads. The fell to the ground and silence came to the alleyway. 

Shit, did I just kill them?

“They’re alive. Concussed but alive,” Batman said. “GCPD will be here shortly… I need to…”

“You need to run,” I said.

He nodded. “Are you okay?”

“I am now… but what about you? You need medical attention!”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be on the rooftop waiting for them until they get you. Hopefully, it’s Lieutenant Gordon who picks up this call.”

“You shouldn’t be moving too much,” I reached for my scarf and used it to wrap around his injury, making sure it was tight to stop the gushing blood. And against my better judgment, I whispered a spell to heal his injuries, it won’t heal fully but it will speed the process to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. He did save my life.

Batman only looked at the black scarf around his injured leg before moving again. But this time he went to the fallen men and took something from their pockets. He even collected my things, placed them in a bag, and handed them to me. 

“I’ll be on the roof to make sure you’re safe. Just stay put.”

I nodded. “Thank you. Thank you, Batman.”

He nodded again and launched his grappling hook and zipped up. The last I saw was his cape.

The GCPD arrived fifteen minutes later. Luckily, it was Jim Gordon. I told him that it was Batman who saved me and already left, heading down a random direction I pointed to. He had officers running down that path while he got me in his car so I could be brought to the station for questions and to be checked by their medic. As we drove away, I saw the silhouette of Batman on that roof. He left once Gordon made a turn down the block.

He really did wait until I was safe.

~*~

A year and a half in Gotham and now I’m flying to Rome, and all it took was a lot of sleepless nights and reading, studying, and moving out of that apartment to really pull myself together. Even my professors were surprised when I became eligible for the semester in Italy. While I do look forward to it, I’ll admit, I’ll miss hearing and reading about Batman on the news.

[xerith-42]

Minecraft Diaries Stoner Headcanons

Part 2 in the Aphverse Stoner Series!

Disclaimer: I haven't watched Season 3! I mean, I have, but I don't remember any of it other than that Blaze was in it-- And I just checked the wiki and he's a villain? Uhm. No, he isn't. Hatsune help me I'm going to have to make a whole post about that now... anyways, pretend Blaze is just like another guard Irena gathered because she just collects them like they're pokemon.

Blaze our beloved to start us off. Uh, pipe weed is really common in Ru'aun, it's actually a primary export. And well, Blaze is a pretty big fan of it. Once when he's smoking weed with his friend, he comes to a realization.

"Listen, listen. We use earth with the plant, fire by lighting it, and air to inhale it. What we're missing is water." I am saying that Blaze made the first bong in the MCD universe. Or that he at least came up with it and was credited for the original idea. These two are very proud of their idea and want to spread it everywhere.

Pipe weed is not allowed at the guard academy, and guards are expected to remain sober, even though alcohol is okay?? Doesn't really make sense to a lot of new cadets, including Laurance, who's able to smuggle it in, and hide it from Garroth.

Vylad does actually smoke pipe weed, particularly while on his own during those 15 years. It helps relax their muscles, and causes a sort of numbness that helps keep the calling quiet.

When he tells Laurance of this, both of them share it together at some point.

Dante used to smoke weed with Laurance on slow nights in Phoenix Drop, and even smoked it with Nicole a few times. He quit when he found out Nana was pregnant.

The number one smoker is Travis. His mom had a stock pile of it he found, enough to last years, and it's one of the main things he brings with him to Ru'aun.

When Travis and Blaze meet, they are instant friends. I don't know what happens in Season 3, but this is all that matters to me. They would be BESTIES!!

Despite being banned by the church, Zane is in a position of power so the rules don't apply to him. He never does it when he has something serious going on, but when Zane has some downtime, he'll light up a bowl to take the strain out of his shoulders.

A downside of being a Shadow Knight is that your lungs are much more used to inhaling smoke and dealing with heat thanks to the Nether, so they have some insane tolerance. Like, Vylad was smoking so much, and Laurance is never not frustrated at how much he has to go through in a single sitting just to feel something.

And Aaron? When he was a father? And a Lord?? Of course he was smoking. He was very careful about it, and kept it away from Jacob. And as he traveled with the rest of the cast, he was always careful to hide it from the kids. He didn't quite mind if anyone else saw, as long as they were smart enough not to ask for it.

Travis is not smart enough.

Also Aaron likes wearing the bandana when he accidentally gets a little too high so no one can see how bloodshot his eyes are. Irena can tell by the way he stumbles a little more than usual.

Zoey? Pot head. She's literally an immortal elf, she has tried every drug Ru'aun has ever had and then some. She stops smoking it as much when she's taking care of the kids, but after the group is gone for a few years and she spends more nights searching for a way to bring them back, she picks it back up to try and seem less stressed when people talk to her.

I feel like all Lords smoke just a little. Like, it's such a stressful job. You're constantly having to care for so many people, be a master of subjects you might not have studied, and who knows when one day you wake up to the news that you have to ready yourself for war. People need a way to relieve the stress.

Except Irena. She tried it once when she caught Aaron smoking and it tasted so bad and she did not enjoy the feeling at all. When she becomes friends with Blaze he tries to coax her into it, but she never caves, and he backs off.

LUCINDA on the other hand!! She's a witch! She's a bit of an herbalist! Does she know the perfect growing conditions for the plant of origin and how to cultivate it's harvest for maximum output?? You bet your ass she does!

Blaze x Lucinda x Travis polycule when?

The first time Lucinda and Blaze meet each other he tells her about his innovation of using glass devices to create water vapor that you can smoke, and Lucinda very eagerly drags him into her brewing room and just proudly goes "I have a cauldron!! >:)" And Blaze gets so excited!! He's already trying to figure out what he would have to custom order to work with this, but he needs to try it.

Wait why is that adorable I need to write that now.

[badwithten]

A Burnt Sacrifice | Hyunjin

PAIRING Guardian Angel!Hyunjin x fem!reader

GENRE angst, guardian angel au

WORD COUNT 12.5k

SYNOPSIS Hyunjin was built for the purpose of caring for Y/N, her guardian angel. And after serving her for almost 25 years, he can no longer stay as a background character in her life. Despite being an angel, he will sin if it means he gets a chance to be by her side.

FEATURING Mark, Han + Beomgyu

WARNINGS hyunjin is kinda obsessive over y/n but he justifies it as being her guardian angel, swearing, use of dating apps + cringey awkward dates, hyunjin watched y/n grow up so its kinda weird but he’s only as old as y/n yet he never ages, burns, self harm (y/n picks at her blister), description of injuries, blood, only light religious themes despite the theme, mentions of poverty, descriptions of anxiety 

BASED OFF of ‘Cherry’ by Harry Styles 

COLLAB part of @hvcmixtape​ ‘heart to heart’ valentines day collab

TAGLIST @isearchedtheyooniverse @oddfeeeling @itslovelylilly @rgbsona

Two were born on the day of your birth. Y/N L/N and Hyunjin Hwan. To call them twins would not be appropriate for this story, for they were not connected by blood. Nor was he birthed by any woman. For Hwang Hyunjin was created, sculpted by God themself. This wasn't a metaphor for his beauty, As his soul was quite literally pieced together one by one by the heavens. Y/N’s mother had an angel of her own, as did every human on Earth. While in the womb, her angel watched over both Y/N and her mum, allowing those above to create the perfect match for Y/N. Someone designed to protect, care and love her.

This is the story of Hyunjins journey to protect, care and love Y/N. He was created for that very purpose. He was Y/N's guardian angel. Everything he did was for her, his every thought, want and need was her. Both their hearts were bound by the stars, fused together for eternity. He was created at Y/N's birth and would be destroyed at her death. Even in the afterlife, he would be there for her. Although she was to never know him, his time was spent away from his physical form where she couldn't see. Watching her from another dimension where the rules of Earth didn’t apply. But no matter where he was, the rules of heaven still applied. And despite his heart wanting more, he shouldn’t overstep those heavenly rules. He was a lover, destined to love Y/N for his everlasting life.

This is the story of Y/N's life, the girl who was to be protected, cared and loved for by the heavens. Born to a single mother and raised fairly. Y/N never had an interest in relationships, no desire to have a romantic partner. Her values lay elsewhere. Her family, education and job are more important than any lover could be. Or so she once thought. For loneliness begins to hurt after a while and thoughts begin to wander. Despite not believing in the heavens, she was sure some cosmic power must be against her in life. She was loveless, destined by the heavens to be alone for the rest of her mortal life.

Here is the story of love. Love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.

Pryham. A town big enough to have two high schools competing against each other for scholarships. Small enough for that scholarship to be for students coming from a poor area. Big enough to have a lake named after the region it's in, the biggest lake in its area. Small enough for that lake to still be run by the natives of the land, a grumpy old man guarded the burnt-down lakehouse to make sure no one vandalised it further. Big enough for three major supermarkets to all be within walking distance of each other. Yet all three were small enough that they were managed by young adults who had not long left the same high school you attend now. It was a big enough town that the main street was filled with every large fast-food chain you could think of. Mcdonalds, KFC, Subway, it was all there. Yet the life of the town was not abandoned, locals still ran their cafes and small market shops. Something that bought your home back into the small-town culture. It’s hard to imagine angels would watch over such a town.

Growing up in such a town had its advantages. It was a close-knit community that supported its locals. When your mother had you at a young age and was left to raise you herself, the support came. It was the only way you made it to where you were now. Nights, where you would’ve been cold and alone while she worked, were saved by your mother's young coworker volunteering to watch over you. When your growth spurts outgrew your mother's financial situation, strangers come to donate new clothes to you. Keeping you warm in the winters you’d otherwise freeze in. And for that you were grateful. Not only for the people of your town who reached out to help but for your mother who swallowed her pride and asked for help when others would’ve been too scared to.

Growing up in such a town also had its disadvantages. Kids more fortunate than you didn't see the world as you did. To them, they weren’t thinking of the kindness it took for someone to give you their outgrown shoes. Instead, it was a teasing competition due to the condition they had arrived in. You would be lying if you said it didn’t get to you, but you took after your mothers bravely. Ask for help when you need it and keep smiling.

The people of your town were content with how it was. No one was going to make a change to how it was. The bullying, the poverty, the addictions. If you asked anyone how it was, they would say it was the best town in the world. But you knew better than that. Most born in Pryham stayed in Pryham. Majority with only high school educations, working in either the local shops or become labourers, tradies or farmers. This wasn’t an insult, you knew without these people the world around you wouldn't function as it should. But you had a burning desire for something more. Something larger than life.

You knew for this desire to come true, hard work was needed. With that in mind, you put your head down and got to work when it came to high school. It was all a teenager had during this time in their lives. All their friends, all their work, all their purpose was high school. For some it was just to learn the basics, kill some time before then become an adult and get a full-time job as soon as they can. For others, it was more than that. For you, it was more than that. Without a good high school education, you would not make it for any scholarships and if you wanted to go to university, you needed funding or else you couldn’t afford it. High school wasn’t your entire life despite what it seemed like, it was only part of the plan for your happy future.

Wednesdays were your favourite day of the week. The perfect middle of weekdays as well as your school's late start days. An extra hour in the morning supposed to be used as a study period for senior students was actually just used as an hour to sleep in. Unlucky for those who arrived at school each morning on the bus. For them, it was either wake up at the regular time or miss the bus and walk to school. Han Jisung was one of those unlucky few. Han was also part of those few who wanted something larger than life. At first glance, he was your regular high school student. Loud and funny, the class clown of your graduating class. His behaviour was often scolded by teachers yet he never could get in too much trouble with grades as good as his.

Han Jisung was lucky enough to be friends with someone like you, who was gonna wake up at seven AM regardless of your school's start time. He was never gonna do that extra study and you were never gonna find a break otherwise. Breakfast and coffee allowed you two to remain friends despite how hectic high school had become in your last year.

Part of the charm of living in a town like the one you called home was that the best coffee came from the local movie theatre. Five minutes down the road from your school and a student discount for some of the best coffee in town? Yes, please! But there was another reason that irked your stomach, another reason you were so persistent in going there each week. Sam.

You were so intrigued by this unknown man. He was older than the two of you, in his early twenties unless he was older and aged unbelievably well. With his long black hair and pretty face, it would be difficult for anyone to believe that the reason you were so intrigued by the man wasn’t because of his good looks. But it wasn’t a crush. Maybe it was, you had never experienced love before, thus you wouldn't know what it felt like. But the way it was described wasn't anything you felt. You weren’t excited to see him, nor were you nervous when he was around. No increased heartbeat, no romantic thoughts of wanting to be with him, no heated cheeks when he spoke to you. None of that. But it was a fascination.

That first day you met him you were instantly attracted to him. He laughed as you stuttered over your order, so effortlessly easy to be around, you didn't feel embarrassed. Your attraction wasn’t romantic, it was a longing for an old friend. A sibling you had fallen out of touch with. Anyone you had once known and then lost. But who was he? When you bought him up with your mother his description was unfamiliar.

The next time he served you and Han, you asked for his name. At that, he laughed and smiled. Sam was his answer. When you asked if it was short for Samual he didn’t give you an answer. You thanked him and left to join Han at your usual table. Becoming a regular customer wasn’t enough, each time he asked about your day you would give him some information about your life. When you asked back, he said nothing, keeping his life a secret from you. With his first name and face in mind, you desperately searched for him online.

But you found nothing again. No Facebook page, no Instagram. Sam remained a mystery.

“How was I?” Han is out of breath, his white shirt untucked and messy compared to how presentable he looked only moments ago on stage.

“Great, you were great” Your arms wrapped around his body, pulling him in for a hug. Your heart swelled with pride anytime Han took his place on stage during school assemblies. His anxiety often got the best of him, yet he still managed to secure a place within the student council. Once considered the naughty kid, he was able to clean up enough to get the position. One he deserved.

It felt like only the two of you existed as you stood outside the hall, swarms of students piling out eager to go home. But the two of you just stood, holding each other. Although he tried to pull away, you only held on tighter. Your fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, begging him not to leave. Han didn’t mind, he matched your desperation with a hand on the back of your head, holding him to him. With the last week of school coming up, he knew soon both of you would have changing schedules.

You held him close. Your best friend, one of the only friends you had during this time. Han overwhelmed your senses. His cologne clogging your nose, shirt ripping through the skin on your fingers. All you could do is push your face into him harder, hoping to ground yourself into the solidness of his torso. It was all too much and not enough at the same time. Soon you would be leaving Han, and soon you would miss every part of him that would be overwhelming.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft, full of concern and lacking his normal enthusiasm. And it broke you. Hearing his voice tipped the tears you tried to hold back out and over your eyes. Spilling onto his white shirt and staining his skin forever. “Y/N what’s wrong?”

Once again he tried to pull you away, but you only held on tighter. Shaking your head no. He no longer held onto you, arms hovering awkwardly over his sides and he waited for you to be done. And when you finally pulled away he was more lost than ever.

“I got in Han” You watched as he processed your words. Soon the confusion was replaced by a smile, bigger than any you had seen him wear. Excitement took over him and he pulled you into a crushing hug. “I got into Britechester”

“Y/N Britechester? That’s great!” Each time he pulled away it was only for a second, he couldn't keep you away. Until it all finally clicked in his head, he clicked why you were crying. “Britechester, Y/N, that’s an eight-hour drive from here”

“I know!” You felt the tears form again, the overwhelming anxiety it brought you was something you tried to hide, but it was hard to hide anything from Han. “I hate to be so far away from mum and from you but I have to”

“No, you don’t” His head was shaking in disbelief, he now only held you by your hands. With a grip so tight that he was afraid that if he let go you’d leave right there and then. “You can’t go”

“I’m sorry?” His lack of support was lost on you. You had never doubted your decisions before but Han may be the first to change your view on it all.

“You can’t go Y/N, it’s not fair!” Anger arose in him alongside the first tear that split from his red eyes. He was looking at you, only past your eyes trying to search for some part of you that wasn’t committed to moving away. But you had already made up your mind.

“What are you talking about? I have to go, it's my dream university” You pull your hands away for him, not wanting to be touched by someone talking to you so poorly as if your opinion doesn't matter. “You knew this was a possibility Han, you’ve been with me for five years while I was making this happen”

“But this? I- I-” The words were lost on him. His hands rubbed the tears into his skin as he tried to calm down. Tried to make some sense of his world that was falling apart. “You just can’t, it’s not how things are meant to be”

“I thought you would be happy for me” As much as it hurts you to see him upset, what hurts, even more, is his unsupportive nature towards your situation. Something you worked so hard on and he is treating it as if it's his own. You reach to him and pull his hand away from his face. “Han please talk to me-”

“No!” Han was loud, it was in his nature. But he wasn’t an angry person. The loudness of his voice today came from anger. It froze you from the inside out, you watched with tears as he looked at you with the most fury you’d ever seen in him. “If you leave Y/N, I swear to god I will-”

“You’ll what Han? Stop being my friend?” You spit back at him, tears falling over the form of your lips and melting away any regretful words that may leave them. “It’s too late for that isn’t it?”

You pulled your bag on tighter and leave him standing alone, his fists clenched at his sides. Han never opened up to you much and you had just learnt why. With no control over his emotions, it was easy for him to be over the top. Moving away wasn’t going to be easy for you, but with one last friend to say goodbye to it made it that little bit lighter.

The first Wednesday without Han in it was strange. The bandage that held you two together had been ripped off and you were feeling the air on your skin for the first time in five years. And it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Yet you were determined to prove you could do this alone. So your usual stayed the same apart from the absence of your friend. Sam had become your usual, greeting you with a smile as you entered the small theatre.

“A large latte with almond milk and vanilla, extra hot?” He knew your order before you could speak it. Already reaching out with the stamp for your loyalty card.

“Please” You smiled, something genuine, something that wasn’t a crush. It was more than that. A deeper connection that you still didn't know where from.

“Where’s Han?” Although you were his regular, so was Han, something about that made your connection a little less special.

“He’s sick today” You didn’t look up from the EFTPOS machine, hoping he would buy your lie.

“I’ve got you all to myself then” He winked, something playful in his eyes. You only roll your eyes, not letting that smile that so badly wants to emerge show itself on your face. Instead, you take your seat, waiting for him to bring over your order.

After a few minutes have passed he brings over the latte he's carefully made for you, a heart appearing in the foam layer on top. Before you get a chance to make a comment he whisks away to serve another customer. Sam would be the death of you. Ignoring his flirting you're able to bring out your laptop and catch up on some work. School once again takes up any kind of social life you may have.

Finishing up your drink before school starts and mouthing the words thank you to Sam as he helps an older lady understand the card machine. You had only walked a couple hundred feet to where you needed to cross the road towards your school and you swore you had checked both ways. You swore that you saw that no cars were coming. But before you can take you could step away from the path and onto the road. A hand tugs at your collar, pulling you back with a mash-up of feet.

The force on your neck isn't what shocks you the most, it's the car flying past your face. Horn blaring as to blame you for their speeding. When you turn to see your saviour it's Sam. His eyes wide in panic. It's almost disturbing how fast your heart is beating. A near-death experience, that was something new to your life. Something that you first experienced with Sam. Was this the connection you felt with him? Did you know that one day he would be saving your life?

You couldn't calm yourself to think enough. After a few moments of standing, just staring at each other, you notice the tears on your face. The panic got to you. You reach up and wipe them, allowing Sam the opportunity to step away from you, heading back to the store after simply nodding at you.

“Sam?” You call out, still shaking as you stand near the road that was almost your grave only seconds earlier. As much as the panic of the event was still high in your mind, what stood out more was how fast he got to you. Only moments earlier he was inside the theatre building, talking to a customer who wouldn't be done ordering that fast. “How did that happen?”

“You were on your phone” He speaks nonchalantly, his usual charm gone. He sounds disappointed about how careless you were with your own safety. “You didn’t look before crossing”

“But how were you there?” Your voice was desperate for an answer, mind trying to make sense of his speed, or whatever force allowed him to save you.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice” He turns back to the building, heading away from you once more

“Sam?” He stops at your voice but doesn’t look at you til he hears your next words. “Thank you”

Once you meet his eyes again, both of you feel a change. Your connection with him no longer feels like a weird obsession, you owe your life to him but he knows you're grateful. His eyes shift, knowing that you have found something true in him for the first time. Something about him is for the greater good rather than just a polite barista.

For him, this was love at first sight.

02/02/2022

Thoughts of Sam left your mind not long after high school, you no longer were in town every Wednesday to visit him. Instead, you were at university, studying even harder towards your law degree than you did towards your scholarships in college. The absence of love or any type of romance was something you were teased for in college, at university you were desperate to change that. And while school was still your number one, you had four years of it. You didn’t know if you could take four more years of nothing. Of being empty.

But with every lover, if you could even call them that, came hurt. It seemed no matter how hard you tried, how pretty you made yourself look, how well any first date went. Your relationship with that person would crash and burn. It became a vicious cycle of opening up only to be crushed. At some point, you were convinced you had gone to hell and this was your punishment. It was a dumb mistake made by your heart. You knew it was never to be successful, yet each time you had hope. But every time you were ghosted or just told the “it’s not you, it’s me” story, your heart smashed up a little more. Scattering so far away you were not sure if the next person you allowed in your life would be able to find it. The biggest worry was getting it so lost that you’d never be able to love yourself.

So you pushed it down for the most part. Half of your university you spent with open arms, trying your hardest to find love. And each time you failed. So for the last two years, you put your head down and focused on graduating. After endless hours of study and internships, finally came your career as a family lawyer in one of the most established law firms in your city. But now that you were a lawyer of your own, it was time that you hosted an intern. Like you did many years ago, someone who was fresh out of university with a law degree would come to work alongside you. And today was your lucky day to meet the new intern.

You hadn’t thought much about it. Although they would be working alongside you, they were their own employee and you weren’t their employer. That wasn't something you had to worry about. What you did need to worry about was keeping them up to date in cases, making sure they handled files correctly and teaching them the computer system used in your firm. It felt more like a chore than anything, guilt comes back to haunt you as you remember how useless you were when you first started. Pushing it to the back of your mind, you smooth out your shirt and head to the front room to greet the new intern at Hamlin, Hamlin & McGill.

You wouldn't describe yourself as the nervous type. Even in moments like job interviews, first dates and meeting the new young person who you would train and have an impact on for the rest of their life, you weren’t nervous. You knew your value, holding yourself high in the workplace. So you weren’t worried about giving any bad advice to new students. You got where you were today with hard work and dedication. With high confidence, you stepped out of the elevator that separated your office floor from the ground level. And there was the intern.

Your heart stopped beating for longer than you thought would be possible. His shirt and jacket were way too big for his lanky frame, they hung off of him. A thin black tie that would soon be covered by the blue lanyard you held for him. Despite being the first day of a new job for him, he stood just as nonchalantly as you were just a moment ago, he wasn’t nervous either. Even as recognition flashed through his eyes, his manner did not change. In fact, his smile grew larger. You weren’t a nervous person, but seeing Sam after so many years definitely was enough to shake you up.

The receptionist laughed at the awkward tension you had just created in the room, calling you to meet Sam at the front desk rather than stand and stare from the elevator. You clear your throat, begging the confidence you had this morning to come back.

“Y/N this is Hwang Hyunjin” She gestures from you to him. “And Hyunjin, this is Y/N L/N” And then from him to you.

“Nice to meet you Miss L/N” He puts his hand out for you to take, and you slowly accept, confusion still strong in your system. Why was he pretending this was your first time meeting?

“Hyunjin?”

“That's me” He laughs that awful laugh that you remember from years ago. This would be the longest internship of your life.

His desk sat outside of your office, along with the other cubicles. You're lucky to have your privacy but you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever. And the truth was you didn’t want to avoid him, he was once someone you enjoyed spending time with. But rekindling that seemed too much for you. You weren’t sure if you were ready for your hands to burn again. Yet you were powerless. This situation was out of your control, it didn't matter if you weren't ready for him, work meant you had to be. As much as you dreaded your upcoming interactions with your long-lost friend, you weren’t the same person you were years ago. You were no longer leaving texts unanswered just to do extra hours. Instead, you valued your time. You learnt when to take a break, but you also learnt when to prioritise work. And Hyunjin, your coworker, needed to be prioritised over your friend Hyunjin. It seemed he didn't feel the same, instantly knocking on your office door as soon as you settled in the safety of your desk chair.

“Come in” Your chest rose with your words yet your eyes stayed down. Empty words being typed to avoid any eye contact with the tall man in your door frame. He didn’t wait for any more cues, sitting with his legs tightly together in the chair across from yours. Defeated, you let out a breath of air and finally meet his dark eyes. “So Hyunjin”

“Yup” He popped his lips together, watching with some sick amusement as you come to terms with what was happening. “I’m Hyunjin”

You held eye contact for a moment longer, before your eyes darted to the shut door. You could drop the professionalism for just a moment. “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to say hello?” His lips curled upwards, watching your every move without a break. “You know, since I'm new here”

“No, I understand that” Your hands couldn't sit still, fidgeting with a pen tightly. “Not why are you here in this place, why are you in the city?”

“Same reason you're here I guess” No matter where you looked, you couldn’t escape his eyes. They were a dark pit, constantly bringing you in. Although his nature didn't reflect this, your memories of him don’t contain that part of him. “I needed to get out, see the country a bit. Get a real job”

“Okay” It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but you knew it was all you were getting. Your posture dropped as you got familiar with his voice once again. “What about your name? What happened to Sam?”

“Sams my English name. Hyunjin is my birth name, my Korean name”

“Why Sam?” While you felt your emotions change with each word spoken, stomach flipping at each sentence that came out of Hyunjins mouth. Hyunjin was unchanging. Stoic as he sat there, eyes boring into you.  

“I was new to town so I thought having an English name would make it easier for me to fit in” But in that sentence, you see him drop a little, and for the first time, sadness flies over his eyes. “But that doesn't bother me anymore. So it's Hyunijn again”

“I’m glad”

“Me too” With a smile, he comes back to his original state. “Any work for me today?”

“Uhh just learn the system today, you know? Learn the office, say hi to some people and I’ll have something for you tomorrow” Since the start of the conversation, you jump back into reality. This wasn't Sam at the cafe you were catching up with. This was Hyunjin at work in which you were his boss. With your head clear again, your eyes go back to the many emails on your screen that are needing to be replied to.

“Well if you need me, I'll be here” Hyujin pulls himself out of the chair, long legs making his steps to the door faster than usual. Before he leaves, his eyes find yours once again, this time, there's hope within. “And you should call me sometime, tonight maybe. I’d like to catch up if that's ok with you.”

“Goodbye Hyunjin” You ignore his question, boss Y/N coming out once again.

“Bye Y/N” He smiles and with a few taps of your doorframe, he steps out. “Nice office”

Working with Hyunjin wasn’t as difficult as you imagined it would be. It was strange, you had imagined it would be like working with an ex-partner. The thick tension in the air of unresolved conflict. Rumours being spread on each side of the breakup. It wasn’t something you were looking forward to. But with Hyunjin, it was true to what your relationship was, old friends catching up. It wasn’t awkward and there were no unresolved topics to bring up, in fact, there were barely any memories to speak of when making small talk. More and more you’ve come to realise that your connection to Hyunjin was one-sided. In your head, you knew this man very closely in high school, but in reality, you weren’t even friends. He was nice to you because it was his job. And now it was your time to show some professional courtesy.

Yet since he started last week, that feeling you once had about him came back. If deja vu was personified, it was him. He was that bad dream you couldn't shake. Every part of him felt like a memory of a stranger. His smell, his voice, even the darkness of his eyes. They were all so familiar. It was as if he was a reminder you’d left to yourself. But what were you trying to remember?

These feelings should have felt more real, more justified. Unlike your teenage years, you did know Hyunjin. This was someone who left your life and then came back. But they were still too unfamiliar for your liking. Even as you sat in your break room and watched him make his coffee, something you knew all too well, it was still off. Your staring didn’t go unnoticed, soon his dark eyes were staring back with a smile. You tried to play it off, look in the other direction and finish eating from the plastic utensil in your mouth. But Hyunjin didn’t take the hint, or maybe he purposely chose to ignore it, as soon he was heading towards your table, sitting down with his hot mug of coffee.

“Can I help you?” The smugness in his voice made you sick, acting as if this was normal. Him being here wasn’t normal. You could feel it although the feeling was indescribable to anyone else. Why wasn’t it normal? You couldn't tell.

“What?” Playing dumb wasn’t the smartest choice when you’d been caught, but he was overwhelming your senses. He always did. Too good to be near you.

“Nevermind” His smile disappeared in his coffee, his eyes turning back to the room as he absentmindedly drank his coffee. Despite already being caught once staring, you couldn't keep your eyes off his face.

It was a comfortable routine you had found yourself in. During work hours, you’d help him where you could, show him how to do his job without you one day. It was playful, you had a reason to talk to him. But as soon as lunch hit, it was gone, and you had no reason to speak to him. And you barely could. This didn't seem to bother Hyunjin. He could speak for hours without another person replying. If he was passionate about something, it was all that was on his mind.

“I haven’t been back to the studio in a long time though, works been keeping me busy” The last of his drink disappears with a gulp and a sigh. Without waiting for a reply, he starts again. “You’re my boss, right? Want to give me some time off so I can go again?”

“I can’t do that Hyunjin” Your voice trails off, focusing more on the messages popping up on your phone.

“No fun Y/N, no fun” His hands rest against this table, leaning up and over his arms to look at your phone. “Who's that?”

“Hyunjin!” You quickly turn off your phone, the invasion of privacy upsetting you more than he expected. Quickly he backed away, taking his seat in the uncomfortable silence he created. Even he couldn’t talk his way out of it. It becomes too much so you stand, wanting to spend the rest of your lunch alone.

“Y/N wait-” He stands with you, not loud enough to draw any attention to himself. He was always good at that. Enough but never too much, but right now he was overwhelming you.

“I’ll be in my office” You speak to him once again as a stranger, nothing more than your intern. “You know what you need to get done for today?”

He sits himself back down, silently nodding at your words before you leave him once again.

04/04/2022

You hated running late, you knew how annoying it was to wait for someone to arrive when you had plans and being the one waited on was dreadful. Your mother had put it into your brain so many times, ‘Early is on time, on time is late and late is unacceptable’. You were just hoping your date was more forgiving than your mother. His name was Mark and from his photos, he was pretty darn cute. It had been too long since you got excited over a date. Usually, the talking went fine, you were excited at the time you had planned the date but meeting up always made you regret your choices. But as long as you kept your mouth shut and laughed at their jokes, you could at least get a free drink.

Not with Mark though. You had been chatting with him longer than you normally would before a date, even through your messages he made you laugh. Even if he wasn’t the one, even if you only got a friendship out of this, you wouldn’t be mad. He seemed like a nice person and you were excited to find more nice in your life. Despite being almost twenty minutes late from your meet time, you hold your head high and walk into the small town diner. The door rings with the bell above the entrance, most people here are too concentrated elsewhere to look your way. The cashier rang up an elderly man. Students head first into their laptops. A family with screaming kids. This place wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t somewhere you would take someone for a first date. This was boyfriend-girlfriend date material when you wanted to split a milkshake and grab food before the movies. But the food was good and the casual pace was a nice change.

Despite being late, Mark's eyes still lit up seeing you walk in. His oversized bomber jacket was pulled around the front as he sat in the booth, hands in his pockets. He was quick to his feet as you made your way over, pulling off his beanie and stashing it away in the process. His black hair was a mess underneath but you couldn't say you looked much better. Your high-waisted dress pants and untucked blouse. All the running in hopes to get here in time had the wind burning your face. You were burning up with the sudden change of temperature, eyes dry from the cold wind outside.

“Y/N?” He double-checked before you got to give him a hug, a formality you would not usually do right away but he was offering and who were you to say no when arriving so late.

“Mark I’m so sorry” You were struggling to catch your breath, sitting with shaky legs. Your jacket and bag had been discarded on the set next to you. Mark watched silently as you poured yourself a glass of water. “I had to stay late and then I missed my usual bus” You spoke between mouthfuls. “Todays just be wild, I’m sorry I kept you waiting”

“It’s ok!” He insisted, smiling as he watched you calm down. Something about the chaos was comforting and familiar to him. He was sick of putting on an act in front of women who assumed they were better than him. Today seemed different for him. “You’re here now so that's all that matters, you know?”

It didn’t take long to destress from your hectic work day with Mark. Words flowed freely between the two of you. He laughed away all your work problems while you laughed at his cheesy jokes. Soon you were settled in at a nice pace of conversation, waiting for the young waiter to bring your food over. First arrived Mark's burger and fries, he waited patiently for your food to arrive before he started eating. Then you watched him return with a large bowel sat upon a plate.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone order soup on a first date” He gave you a mischievous smile, a sign that he wasn’t actually judging. It was a comfort to be around someone who communicated so easily through their body. As a lawyer, it was easy to see when someone was lying with their body language. But not Mark.

“Nothing better than soup on a cold day!” Finally, he arrived at your table, plate in one hand as he placed down your food. The young man watched as you reached for your bowl, watched as you offered to take it from him, thanking him as he had done so much for you. But he watched silently, he didn’t say a word about the temperature of the bowl. “Oh fuck!”

As soon as your hands touched the ceramic your fingers went up in flames. Although not literally, you could feel the fire course through your body. Your hands flew up and away from the bowl, desperately escaping from the heat that had burned you. In doing so it's your turn to watch silently, watching as the dish leaves the waiter's hand and lands on the table. Not only does the scorching hot liquid drip onto your lap, but you also watch as it drips onto Mark's side as well. He jumps up with a yelp, his legs burning. You stay put, eyes shut. At least you have the pain to focus on. Anything other than the embarrassment you feel build up in your chest. You’ll take the fire over the looks of pity from other customers. The blisters over dealing with your date who you had just spilled soup on,

“I’m so sorry” The young waiter was just as embarrassed, panicking at what your reaction would be. But he didn’t stay long enough to see it. “I’ll get you something to clean up right away”

Shut. Your eyes stayed shut. For as long as you kept them close, the longer this wasn’t real. But it came creeping up faster than you could handle, and soon a sob left your mouth. Your body shakes as you begin to cry. The tears had to fight their way out as you kept your eyes firmly shut.

“Y/N?” Finally opening your eyes, you saw how bright and wide Marks had become. Standing by your side, mouth slightly agar. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah” Your voice was the quietest it had felt in a long time. You watched as the young waiter rushed back, damp cloth in hand.

“Oh sorry” Mark stepped out of the way, allowing the waiter to aid you in your cleaning. “I’m gonna, you know, head to the bathroom”

You nodded, the nervousness in his voice a clear sign he wasn’t returning but you didn’t want him to. Embarrassment consumed you and you were reminded why you didn’t date.

The peace that naturally came with Hyunjin was appreciated more than ever after your date last night. The pressure of work sent away as he walked past your office, smiling and waving at you despite his late arrival. It gave you a laugh, a small break from the pending work in front of you. But moving your hand in the wrong direction had you wincing, the paper folder rubbed against the raw blisters on your palm. A painful memory of the embarrassment you endured. You allowed yourself a moment, sitting with the pain, living with it.

A knock at your door brings you away from your thoughts, Hyunjins head poking through the door. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, come in” You gesture to the seat across from you, pulling your hand away and into your lap to try to soothe the ache of it away. “What can I do for you Hyunjin?”

“I just need to speak to you about the Kettleman case, is that ok?” Every time he spoke, each word was so perfectly chosen. Delicately leaving his mouth and waiting to see your reaction before he spoke again. “He wants to meet with you again, something about the deal you offered him. I told him he could speak to me about it before setting up a meeting but he was pretty insistent on seeing you”

As he spoke your ears rang, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to press into the blister forming on your hand. But the pain was too distracting and you could barely focus on his words. “Overall he was really difficult, I told him I’ll call him back, or have you call him back to sort out a meeting time with him. So when would it work for you?”

Finally taking a breath and opening your eyes, you looked at him as he waited for your reply. “Which one was the Kettleman case again?”

“Y/N are you ok?” You were off your game today, upset over your failed date and hurting from the now-open blister on your hand. Everything was out of your thoughts.

“Please just remind me” He licks his lips nervously, unsure what to make of your behaviour. Regardless, he follows your words.

“Mr Kettleman is, well was, our state treasurer. But he’s been accused of embezzling $1.6 million of government funds” As he speaks, he searches through the manilla folder on his lap. Eventually, he settles on a single piece of paper and holds it for you to grab.

“Ah the Kettlemans” You reach for the paper, not thinking about the burn on your hand. But quickly it comes back to the front of your mind and you flinch at the contact. Unluckily for you, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin.

“Your hand? What happened?” He quickly stands, making his way to your side of the desk. Without thinking he takes your hand in his own, but he doesn't get a good look before you snatch it away.

“Hyunjin, please. This is not appropriate and while I appreciate your concern I am ok” He looks down at you blankly, ignoring your anger.

“Can you drop it?”

“Excuse me?”

“The whole boss act! I’m sick of you pretending you don’t care about me or even that you don’t know me” Hands on his hips, he steps away to empathise with his words. “I know it's strange that I work for you now, but you can’t just pretend that we're strangers”

You clench your teeth, remaining silent. He hasn't convinced you but you weren't fighting to get him to.

“Please just let me see your hand. I’m your friend and I care about you ok?” You stay put and he takes this as an ok to try and see your hand again. You don’t stop him. “Ouch, how’d this happen?”

“I don’t want to talk about it” If he was to treat you like a child, you weren't going to have an adult conversation with him.

“Alright let me get something for this” He rubs over the back of your hand before leaving it to rest on your desk. Once he returns he brings over your spare chair. “This is going to hurt a little, ok?”

His long fingers tickle the surface of your skin, a white cream being rubbed into your wound. Your heart stops at the intimacy of the situation. One hand holds onto you steady, the other circling the skin of your palm. Skin to skin, touching your open wound but only to heal, not to hurt. Satisfied, he pulls away before covering it up with a plain bandaid and finally meeting your glossy eyes.

“Thank you Hyunjin”

07/07/2022

After the disaster that was your date with Mark, you had high hopes for how tonight would go. It literally could not get any worse. And it already was going better. Work didn’t keep you late, Hyunjin even walked you to your car. You felt comfortable with him once more. Still distant as you were in your younger years but with that same connection, this time you knew he felt it as well.

Without being late, you had time to put yourself together. Make yourself feel real again after spending all day in corporate hell. You weren’t dressing to impress, the date was still casual but anything was better than your tight slacks and buttoned shirt. There was once a piece of work you couldn’t shake off your mind.

It always was the little things with Hyunjin. Back in high school, it was making your order before you got there. It was taking time to help elderly customers who couldn't read the menu. Saving your life. And just like then, it was the little things now at work that had him sticking in your mind. He remembered your coffee orders despite him not making it for years. Clients would always tell you about the polite young man who greeted them on the phone. You were just hoping he wouldn’t need to save you again. The debt you already held to him could never be repaid and it weighed down your soul.

A text was sent to Beomgyu letting him know that you were on your way before you exited your place. The bar where you were meeting wasn’t far from your house, barely a ten-minute walk, but you wanted the time to think. Need the time to be early to ensure your mistakes aren't repeated. It wasn't long before you arrived, had your ID checked and sat waiting for the brown-haired boy to arrive.  

Yet seven o’clock came and went. You had triple-checked that your message went through, yet no reply. Nothing saying ‘omw!’ or ‘sorry I might be running late tonight” (although you had forgotten to give that same curiosity to Mark). So you sat and waited because you had been Beomgyu in this situation. Yet tonight you needed to be the Mark that waited.

Seven thirty arrived, the barkeep asked if he could get you a drink and you felt as if that may be the only interaction with a human that you get tonight. Another message sent was another message left unanswered. The anxiety you swore up and down to your therapist that you didn’t feel started creeping back into your life. A mixture of guilt and betrayal. Guilt for the night you left Mark waiting, only to waste his time further. Guilt for when you left Han for college. While guilt was something you were too familiar with. Betrayal was something new. You were now in the position of the hurt. The one who was allowed to be upset. But you weren’t upset at Beomgyu, instead upset at yourself for all the times you had betrayed the ones around you.

One more time you would check your phone, and if you still had no response then that was it. Your heart was still held high before you saw no notifications on your screen. And then it came crashing into your guilt, a new wave of anxiety washing over you, a tear to match. You were quick to wipe it away, mind trying to focus on anything but the ache that you were experiencing. With one hand tightly around your phone and the other swirling the ice in your glass, you found yourself staring down at the boy's profile. Analysing every photo, every aspect of his life that he shared online. Were you not good enough for him? Did he think that little of you that he forgot?

You watched his profile update in real-time, a new photo on his tag displayed him out at dinner with a group of his friends. Stood up. You had been stood up. Your entire life you thought that was just something that happened in movies. Some way to break the protagonist down just so their friend, the real love interest of the story, can bring them back up. But there was no love interest in your story. All you had was a dating app full of men not willing to take that chance with you. And there was nothing you could do about it.

You watched the ice melt with every round it made in the glass, your finger became numb to the sensation although you knew there would be a mark from where it rested on the rim of the cup. There was nothing to hold you steady, the only sensation to ground you was beginning to melt away at your own doing. Your own fingertips wore it down and soon you’d be alone again.

09/09/2022

“Thank you for your time today” You pressed your lips together, cringing at the fake voice you put on anytime you were on the phone. After years of working with clients, you were hoping you would have gotten used to it. But you continued to dread each phone call you had to make. “I’ll have someone get back to you shortly”

Finally ending the call allowed you a breather. Hands resting against your forehead for just a moment before you move on to the next thing. And the next thing always seemed to be Hyunjin. His rapid knocking on the door became a sound you were all too familiar with.

“One second” You called out to him, face still hidden. He didn’t listen to your request, quickly entering your office with confidence. Soon recoiling when he saw your position. “Or not”

With a sigh you pull yourself up, washing away any grief you were feeling and becoming workplace Y/N once more. “What can I help you with Hyunjin?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt” He seemed genuinely remorseful, trying to back out of the awkward situation he had created. “I can go”

“Just stay, tell me what you want” The ringing of his hands made you realise this may not be work-related, was something wrong with Hyunjin?

“It’s not important, I’ll come back” He gave a polite smile and turned back to the door to leave.

“Please wait” You stood, leaning across the table to speak to him. “You can talk to me it’s ok”

“I know” He smiled sadly, chewing on his lip. “Later?”

You gave it up, dropping back to your seat defeated. Hyunjin left you alone. That seemed to be a theme with you recently. You had never cried at work. But the warmth they provided down your face brought you some comfort.

The phone from your drawer buzzed. Although you would have scolded Hyunjin for using his phone during work hours, you couldn't resist the distraction from your overwhelming emotions.

Han Jisung added you as a friend!

Han Jisung sent you a message!

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that you would repair your relationship with Han. After you left Pryham he hasn't spoken to you. Despite the awful day you left him off on, he organised with your mum to give you a hug before you left. Not a word was spoken. But that tight hug was your goodbyes. And that was the last you saw of Han Jisung.

Neither of you reached out while you were away at university. You had no idea if he moved out of town or even moved out of his parent's home. You didn’t care to know. For years you lived peacefully without Han, an idea that once seemed painful to even think about. But here you were, sitting across from him at a lively cafe laughing harder than you had in years.

But there were only so many old memories you could talk about, only so many years of catching up before silence filled the space between the two of you. An awkward sip of your drink and fidgeting with your hair before Han finally speaks.

“Y/N” He swallowed hard, looking at you briefly before staring back down at your hands. “I’m really sorry for everything”

He watched silently waiting for your reaction, but when you didn’t show anything other than the tears that began to form in your eyes he continued. “I didn’t understand what it meant when you were leaving, I just couldn’t understand why you would leave me in such a shit town”

“Is this why you messaged me? To say sorry?”

“Maybe?” He watched your face drop, hands reaching out to hold yours in a panic. “You were my closest friend, my only friend at some point and I want you to know that I am sorry”

Once again silence fills the air, your mouth is twisted, unsure of how to feel about all of this. The tears that rolled down your face weren’t tears of sadness, they weren't tears of anything. You were simply overwhelmed by Han once again. He takes the silence as a bad sign, struggling to put together his words.

“I just wanted to see you and talk to you, because I miss you so much, and I want you to know that I-” His head drops, and you watch as pain crosses his face. He grunts to bear with it, before looking back up at you and smiling, the tears you wear are now on his face as well. “I think I should go Y/N”

“What?” The both of you stand, Han to get away, and you to chase. With a nod, he collects his things and leaves. His steps are light, he almost floats away unaware of how his words have affected you. “Han wait”

You weren’t the most receptive to his feelings or words but you have never imagined he would have just left. You don’t want to run, it feels wrong to run after someone in the streets. But your steps are fast, trying to catch up with him through the crowd of people that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. You’d only been walking for a few minutes before you lost him. Your head spins as crowds of people swarm past you. Disorientated and out of breath, you feel yourself begin to panic.

A numbness overtakes your fingers, increasing with each beat of your racing heart. You can’t think, all you can feel is the burning of your lungs from your lack of air. You’d never felt so lost before, everyone has left you while simultaneously you're surrounded. It's both lonely and crushing. Just when you think you won’t be able to take another breath, a warm hand makes itself at home on your shoulder. The touch is grounding and you almost choke on the air you manage to gulp down.

You find the strength in the familiar dark eyes that seem to appear whenever you need them the most. “Y/N?”

“Hyunjin?”

In the safety of your apartment, you’re able to calm down enough to talk to Hyunjin. He insisted on walking you home which you needed, him staying to listen was something you wanted and he seemed more than happy to. He sat in the armchair across from you, elbows leaning against his knees as he listened intently.

“I don’t know what was wrong with Han” Your nose was still running, your nerves still on fire as you fiddled with the tissues you held onto. “I mean, you saw us at school right? We used to be best friends”

“People change Y/N, it’s been a long time since you saw him last” He spoke calmly, choosing each word with precision so as to not upset you further.

“Yeah but he reached out to me, you know? Why reach out to say sorry and then back out of the apology? Unless he was just trying to make himself feel better, maybe he didn’t mean it so when I didn't accept it right away he got upset” Your brain was running laps trying to put together the pieces of today.

“Can I ask what he was apologising for?”

“Nothing, it was dumb” You put the tissue down, reaching to rub your face. “I’m not upset over it anymore, I was gonna accept his apology. He just hadn't finished talking so I didn’t want to interrupt!”

“Why are you so upset then?” You pull your face away to look at him, his usual charm was there. But he felt so empty. You shake the thought away, trying to think of an answer that would please his overanalyzing brain.

“I’m lonely Hyunjin. Like really lonely” You laugh to hide the embarrassment of it all. People joke about being lonely, spending all their time watching Netflix instead of hanging out with their friends. But true loneliness was different. It was painful to experience and embarrassing to admit. “I’ve tried to go on dates but they never work out so I was excited to finally have a friend”

“I didn’t take you as the dating type”

“I’m not, I’ve been on a total of two dates this year and each one was comically bad”

“Do you care to share?”

“What are you, my therapist?”

“I didn’t take you as the therapy type either”

Sinking back into your couch with a sigh, you just shrug back at Hyunjin. “Maybe I’m just destined to be alone”

“Don’t think like that” His tone changed from concern to trying to cheer you, reaching out to give your knee a rub. “Whatever happened on those dates wasn’t on you, it just wasn’t the right guy”

“Maybe not” You weren’t in the mood to talk about your sad dating life much longer. But you felt bad being so defensive over your life, maybe this is why you were alone?

“You know that time I came to work with a burn on my hand?” You decide to humour him with a couple of stories. “That was from a date”

“That wasn’t on you though was it?” He smiles with you, allowing the change in tone. “That was on that waiter for not warning you about the hot plate”

“I guess” You laugh, thumb running over the small scar that sits on your palm from your date with Mark. But you stop and so does your heart. How did Hyunjin know that? He doesn't see anything wrong, continuing to enjoy your company even when neither of you are speaking. Your eyes dart from him to the door and you decide it's safe to ask. “How’d you know that?”

“Know what?”

“About the waiter? I didn’t tell you how I burnt my hand” You see his eyes shift in panic but his smile only grows. An uneasy combination that starts your panicking again. “Were you following me?”

“I think you’re mistaken, you told me the story you just hadn't said you were on a date at the time” You shake your head, trying to process how he knew. You remember that day so clearly, the feeling of his skin rubbing over the raw part of your hand burnt into your mind. He seems so calm but you can feel the tears starting in your eyes again.

“I did not tell you anything about it Hyunjin” You stand, trying to get away from him. “I know for a fact that I didn’t tell you, so how did you know?”

He stands but doesn’t move from his position in front of the chair, only watching silently as you back away from him. Each rise of your chest bought you more discomfort, the two of you stood silently staring each other down. While you were experiencing your fight-or-flight instinct for the second time that day, Hyunjin just seemed sad.

“I had to do it Y/N” You had seen Hyunjin happy, you had seen him be charming, you had even seen him just blank. To most, seeing someone so empty would freak them out. But you had never seen Hyunjin mad or sad. Seeing him act this way now was scarier than that day he saved your life.

“What do you mean ‘you had to do it’?” You had only thought he had been following you, which was bad enough, but thinking he had something to do with it only made the dread in your stomach worse.

“Han. Mark. Beomgyu. Then Han again. I had to intervene”

“What? Had to intervene?” You can barely process what you're hearing, let alone think of a response. All you can speak are questions you know you’ll never get an answer to. “How do you know their names Hyunjin?”

Silence.

“Hyunjin answer me!” You watch as he begins to cry, the raising of your voice shaking something within him.

“If I show you, will you forgive me?”

“I don’t-” Your voice breaks itself off, the mixture of emotions in your gut making it impossible to think.

Without saying another word, Hyunjin excuses himself from where he had previously been frozen in place. His back against the blank wall of your living room. He shuts his eyes and takes a breath before you see the impossible. Shadows appear behind him, but not of any human form. Wings that span far past his arm's reach are cast onto the walls of your apartment. It’s your turn to freeze. Mind racing as you try to take in what you're witnessing. Once he opens his eyes, they disappear, you’re almost convinced you were just seeing things but the shit-eating grin he wears tells you otherwise.

“What- What does that mean?” No matter what you just saw, you fail to understand how it relates to the situation you currently find yourself in.

“I’m your guardian angel”

“My what?”

“Guardian angel, you know, like in the movies and stuff”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment” The confusion you felt is replaced by rage. You don’t care to hear him out, any reason he may have for playing this joke on you will go unheard.

“Wait Y/N, I’m serious!” You shake your head, refusing to believe anything he says but you don’t get another second to think until he’s suddenly in your face. “How do you think I got here?”

“Hyunjin” Your voice is quiet, fear eats you up as he stands so close. The Hyunjin you thought you knew is no longer there, a strange man stands by you instead.

“No, don't be scared!” He can sense your every emotion, his hands grip your shoulders trying to calm you. “I’m just trying to show you I’m telling the truth! Think about that day at the theatre right? No way any human could be got there as fast as I did”

“Hyunjin please” A madman was in your home, gripping you hard enough to leave bruises and you couldn't do anything about it apart from beg for him to leave. That didn’t seem to align with Hyunjins plans.

“Y/N just listen to me!” He lets go of your shoulders and steps away, though not far enough for you to leave the wall he had backed against. “Don’t you see how good this is!”

“Good?! In what way is this good?”

“We can be with each other now, without any secrets”

“You think I want to be with you?” You force him to step away from you, finger jabbing into his chest. Although tears continue to flow down your face, laughter now joins them. “You’re fucking crazy!”

“I’m not crazy!” He snaps right back at you. “How else can I prove I am an angel, your angel?”

“That's not the issue Hyunjin. The issue is that you’ve ruined all my relationships! And now you work with me? You’ve ruined the only thing I had!”

“I didn’t ruin anything Y/N, they weren’t right for you. We were made for each other, it has to be us”

“I don’t want you Hyunjin! Especially not if you’re gonna force it, let me figure that out myself! I- I don’t want you micromanaging my life Hyunjin, can’t you see how insane that is?” He shakes his head, his tears breaking him down further. Your roles have reversed as he quietly begs for you to stop. “I want to live! I want to date and have my heart broken. I want friends, I want a job where you aren’t there”

“I had to” He’s no louder than a whisper, but he isn’t speaking for you, instead he’s trying to convince himself that he’s done nothing wrong.

“I don’t care Hyunjin, I just want you to leave”

“I can’t” It’s his turn to panic, when he looks at you his eyes are full of fear but you fail to understand where it's coming from. “If I leave now, you’ll forget me. Humans are forbidden to know about creatures like me. If I leave, everything will be forgotten ”

“Good” You spit the word at him, furious at the way he has made your life worse, furious at the way he thinks he deserves your acceptance. “I don’t want to ever see you again”

“I’m not leaving Y/N, I- I- I love you and I’m not leaving” He stands like a child in the middle of your living room. Tears flow down his face but he’s barely crying. He just stands and watches you, refusing to give in.

“Well, I hate you Hyunjin” You watch him swallow back a cry at your words. “And if you won’t leave then I will”

As you go to walk past him he grabs your arm, grip much stronger than before. If the wings and teleporting weren’t enough to convince you of his powers, his inhuman strength was, you cry out in pain. “No! You can’t leave!”

“You're hurting me!” Your begging is more desperate than before, the pain becoming unbearable as he crushes your arm. “Let go please!”

“But then you’ll leave” His soft eyes find yours, lips broken and chewed as he tries to find himself a loophole in the situation he's put himself in.

“Let me” He didn’t yell at you so you don’t yell back. Trying to find peace in the situation.

“Y/N you have to understand that I can’t”

“Are we gonna stand like this forever then?” He doesn’t respond, all reasoning goes past him. So instead you put your hands together and begin to pray.

You pray to the heavens above for help. You pray that justice can find its way into your life and punish Hyunjin for the damage he has caused. You pray that he is no longer the man to watch over you. And just when you begin to lose hope that anything holy could be on your side, his grip loosens and although it is still painful, it is human. You make eye contact with him one more, and terror makes its way over his face one last time before he collapses.

For the first time, Hyunjin wakes up. Never in his life had he slept and he never wishes to again. A burning pain on his upper back from what he assumes is the hard wooden floor below him. But when he opens his eyes and sees the panic in your eyes, he begins to believe it's from something else.

“You’re bleeding Hyunjin” You can barely stomach the blood, unsure of what to do as he bleeds out onto the floor of your apartment. He manages to peel himself out of the sticky mess, his hand reaching back to feel the open wound that sits on his shoulder. His heart sinks even further when he reaches and feels a matching wound on the opposite side.

“My wings” Defeated is the only way to describe Hyunjin in this situation. He had lost his power, his status, his purpose. “What did you do?”

“I prayed” You look just as broken as him, sorrow present in your eyes. “I didn’t know this would happen Hyunjin, I’m sorry”

Despite the constant distress he had put you through your entire life, you helped him up. You go to leave for the first aid kit but he stands to join you. If you leave, you’ll forget. Although you wouldn’t mind forgetting right now, the grief in his eyes is enough to guilt you into remembering for now. You do your best to tend to his wounds as he sits crying. A grown man bleeding and crying in your bathroom wasn’t the plans you had for tonight and it makes you incredibly uncomfortable having him in your house. But you couldn't leave him now.  So you allow him to stay, and the two of you lay side by side in your bed, not touching but close enough for comfort.

The night stays silent, you can’t sleep knowing that once you do, everything will change forever. Hyunjin won’t be a part of your life, Sam will be forgotten. “Hyunjin?”

“Yeah?”

“What happens now?”

“You forget” His voice is the same monotone you're used to from him. He doesn’t sugarcoat his words. “You forget about me and you get a new angel now that I’m human”

“I’m sorry” Tears roll from your eyes down the side of your head, soaking the sheets below you.

“Everything I did for you” He sighs and you know whatever he says next is going to enrage you. Nothing he did was ever for you, it was for him. “And you just threw it away? I sacrificed so much for you Y/N”

His crying had only just calmed but he began again, turning away from you and sobbing into your pillow to hide his pain.

“I’m sorry” It’s the only words you manage to spill from your lip, no matter how you felt, you couldn't express it properly. It wasn’t worth it knowing this would all be wiped clear from your mind. You just wanted it to be over with. “I’m going to the store, when I’m back, please be gone”

He sits up but it’s too late, you’ve made up your mind. Yet you stall at the door to your bedroom, knowing once you leave the room, your life will change forever. One last time you look back and take in his dark eyes, eyes you once considered a comfort in the chaos of your life. The chaos that he was now the centre of.

“Goodbye Hyunjin” And with that, you stepped away. It was the last time he would ever get to see you look at him with love. The next time you saw him, he would be a stranger.

For him, this was love at last sight.

Work was no longer entertainment for Hyunjin. Work was now essential. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to look after himself, but for the first time, he had to think about comfort, food and hygiene. It was a difficult adjustment but if it meant he could continue to see you every day, he would.

The first day back was the most painful, having to be reintroduced to someone who he loved so dearly and for you to look at him as if he was a stranger. In your mind he was, and he had to accept that. But what he couldn’t accept is your behaviour in the following weeks. He no longer held the power to intervene on any dates you may or may not be going on. But he knows you too well.

He knows when you had a good night and when you had a bad night. But when the good nights started becoming more frequent, he knew it was over. His suspicion got confirmed when a man he had never seen before walked through the elevator doors on the floor he worked on, the floor you worked on. His eyes immediately went to you, heartbreaking when he saw you light up at the man. He assumed it was bad and was greeted with the worst when you meet the man with a kiss. He called in sick for the rest of the week.

Could you blame him?

Hyunjin's purpose was to protect, care and love Y/N. And he could no longer do that. So instead he prayed. He prayed until his knees bleed and his hands grew calloused. Until the heavens could no longer ignore his thoughts. His wish? To make sure Y/N never found love if it wasn’t from him.

Y/N's purpose was to be protected, cared and loved for by the heavens. Yet she was no longer protected the way she once was. Despite the efforts of her new guardian, she was left alone. She never prayed after Hyunjin. Never once thought of him as more than a young intern trying to make his way. Never would she think to love him. Her memory was lost and so was their love.

For Hyunjin, this was love at ever and ever sight.

[demiaroacefrieren]

People really need to be careful about what's to come after Tiktok was briefly banned from America. There is still a chance that Trump will ban Tiktok again, and there's a rumor going around that Tiktok will be sold to Meta. An inevitable Tiktok ban will cause many people and many business owners to lose income. And it doesn't help that many Americans like myself are having a difficult time looking for a time. I've literally applied to so many full-time jobs in the past and have been rejected and ignored by every single one of them. What doesn't help is there's also a homelessness crisis in many states due to the cost of living being expensive. In many states, renting a one bedroom or studio apartment is at least $1000 a month (or more depending on the city and area). The cost of groceries has become increasingly expensive over the years, and it will get worse pretty soon as Trump plans on imposing tariffs in certain countries, which will cause the cost of certain stuff to go up in price.

If Trump and Conservatives were concerned about user safety on the internet, then they should have banned Meta owned sites like Facebook and Instagram. But they will refuse to do so because many politicians who supported the Tiktok ban are Meta stockholders. They're willing to give Mark Zuckerberg a pass despite him getting in deep shit when the Facebook data breach happened. Plus, Zuckerberg is a white American cishet male billionaire, and the idea of punishing their own people would send Republicans into hysterics.

We need to take this seriously. Trump will probably want to ban Tiktok for good. Many Americans will be at risk of becoming poor and homeless. Tiktok has helped many content creators and small business owners make so much money on the app, especially disabled content creators, due to many American businesses refusing to hire disabled workers as having a disability is seen as a liability. A Tiktok ban is just an excuse to silence anyone who criticizes Trump and his allies, and any site that allows anyone to express themselves freely is seen as a threat. We need to be careful and continue to call out Trump and the American government.

[cfcurscdsouls]

☆ﾟ.*・ ◞ madelyn cline / female / caucasian / she/her ——— is that bexleigh mikaelson on bourbon street ? the 21 year old witch, wolf gene, vampire gene  who stays in the french quarter? i heard their biological parents are caroline forbes and klaus mikaelson. they are notoriously known for being determined and compassionate  but also rebellious and blunt. which is probably why they are considered the spitfire around town.  i wonder if they had their tarot cards reading, yet? either way, the cards on the table will reveal their fate soon enough // s, 28, she/her, est

🔍 Overview 🔎

Full Name: Bexleigh Willow Mikaelson Nickname(s): Bex, Bexy, Leigh Preferred Name: Bex Age: 21 Sexuality: Heterosexual Pronouns: She/Her Height:  5'6" Weight/Build: 135 lbs, toned, muscular Scars/Birthmarks/Distinguishing Markings: N/A

🗣️ Personality & Morals ⚖️

Are they…(bold which term applies to the character):

introvert / extrovert / ambivert

risk-taker / cautious

organized / disorganized

close-minded / open-minded

calm / anxious / restless

disagreeable / agreeable / in-between

patient / impatient

outspoken / reserved

leader / follower / flexible

empathetic / un-empathetic

optimistic / pessimistic / realistic

traditional / modern / in-between

hard-working / lazy

Moral alignment (chaotic good, lawful neutral, etc): Chaotic Neutral

Guilty Pleasure(s): TBD

👍 Strengths & Weaknesses 👎

Strengths/Skills (Mental/Physical): multilingual (English, Creole, French, Latin) piano and guitar (acoustic) ukelele spells photography painting and sketching Weaknesses (Mental/Physical): Sympathetic Sensitive but Guarded TBD Biggest Advantage: Self-Restraint Ability to perform silent spells Biggest Vulnerability: Her family Mental Ailments: Perfectionist, Minor OCD Physical Ailments: N/A Addictions/Bad Habits: Whiskey Phobias: TBD

🏠 Lifestyle 🏠

Birthplace: New Orleans, LA Current Residence: New Orleans, LA Education: Studying Marine Biology Religion: N/A Philosophy/Outlook on Life: TBD Job: Works at Audubon Aquarium in the Maya Snorkel Adventure Exhibit Hobbies: Photography, Painting, Sketching, Studying Marine Life

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 Relationships 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

Status (Single/Dating…/Married to…): Single Family: Klaus Mikaelson (Father) Caroline Forbes (Mother) Lizzie Saltzman (Older Sister) Josie Saltzman (Older Sister) Hope Mikaelson (Older Sister) Nikolas Mikaelson (Older Brother) Henrik Mikaelson (Younger Brother) Friends: TBD Enemies: TBD Other notable relationships (If any): Literally every Mikaelson lol

📚 Backstory 📚

From a very young age Bexleigh has always expressed an interest in just about anything artsy that you could imagine and as she got older she leaned towards photography, painting, and piano mostly.

While her love for art was strong, Beleigh was always adamant that it was nothing but an outlet and joy in her life. Her real life has always been in the water and any chance she got she would find herself in a body of water somewhat be it a pool, lake, or the ocean. She had always been intrigued by the unknown and the creatures of the ocean that are rarely seen on a regular basis, envying the peace and freedom that they have.

She's just recently gotten out of a relationship after she discovered that her boyfriend had cheated on her. Between that and all of the fighting that had been going on between the pair, Bexleigh decided to call it off and has since closed herself off to the idea of love so good luck to anyone that finds themselves crushing on her cause changing her mind will not be easy.

Healthy mix of both her parents; like Caroline, she’s quick witted, self-aware, fiercely loyal, competitive, and can sometimes be aggressive and like Klaus, she’s confident, sarcastic, compassionate, sensitive, outspoken, adventurous, and really loves the arts (painting is her biggest pastime). She has always been a free-spirit, rebellious in nature and as such she was constantly getting herself in trouble as a kid, sneaking out and going to parties without her parents knowledge.

More to come as I plot.

[artisafeelingg]

AUTHENTICITY:

I always talk to people and get the “you’re so different than I imagined” talk. While I know this is meant to be a compliment, and hearing it gives me great solace in knowing that someone has finally uncovered the real Lucia without letting their judgements of who I am from my social media, etc. hinder that, I cannot help but feel slightly sad. What about all of the individuals that never see the real me? Or all of the people who allow an Instagram post or a passing glance to write my narrative of who I am as an individual? This blog post is dedicated to starting my journey of authenticity and sharing ME on social media. From a young age I’ve been passionate about writing. In my eyes, the beauty of the written word surpasses all other forms of communication. Writing was my first love, and we had a tumultuous affair from writing articles for The Indianapolis Star to publishing my poetry in an anthology on Amazon and other international print magazines. Like all first loves, I put a tremendous amount of pressure on my love for writing and considered even making it my major. Eventually, we went our separate ways but my passion and knack for it has never ceased to exist, even many years later. I’m writing this first post as a toast to authenticity, and to using my social media to express who Lucia Ponader really is. She rather sentimental (queue the weekly cry sesh!) She is an avid lover of words and will constantly use large words which shocks people (girls can be hot and smart too. It’s called elevated diction. Godspeed on your journey of literacy). She is messy, passionate, unorganized (just ask her friends) and a whirlwind of emotion and intensity. She is a lover of ALL Asian cuisine and with absolutely zero apprehension would eat any form of Asian cuisine every day for the rest of her life. She is a self proclaimed dumpling connesuir. She absolutely cannot function without her trusted Aquaphor. She MUST sleep with multiple fans blasting on full speed directly onto her face (to the average overnight guest one would believe that they were at sea on a particularly windy day trying to fall asleep in her room). She might quite possibly be a hoarder because of her emotional attachment to literally anything. She enjoys sunshine beaming down, with a kombucha in tow and her favorite book. Or watercoloring outdoors with a great friend. She lived in Italy for 8 months and LOVES to travel. She conquered Hawaii next. Her absolute favorite movie of all time is the Great Gatsby directed by Baz Luhrmann, one of her favorite directors of all time. She hates driving, those sporadic “can I talk to you” texts, and picky eaters. She aspires to be a food critic, travel to every country in the world, and make her own Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations (P.S. Anthony Bourdain is my answer to the who would you have dinner with dead or alive question). She hates small talk and would rather engage in an enthralling discussion about something more abstract. Her favorite question to argue: do you believe in the idea of truth as it is literally defined? (in my opinion the correct answer is no, truth is merely a construct that is completely subjective and therefore is inherently unable to exist according to the definition of “truth”). She is creative and thinks outside the box; rules do not apply to her. She is an internationally published poet. She once ghostwrote music for her SoundCloud rapping ex. Favorite artist? Monet or musically it would have to be Cigarettes After Sex. She has been coined the “jester” of her friend group, as it’s her job to entertain and make people laugh. She does not believe that love is enough or that it exists for her (absolutely feel free to prove me wrong at any point). She loves a good laugh. She has flaws too, like all of us, but perhaps we will dive into those in another post. She exists differently in every single persons mind, but it’s time she takes control of that narrative, just a little. Here’s my take on authenticity, perfectly imperfect. Stop taking Instagram so seriously.

[thestobingirlie]

So I also headcanon that Steve chose not to go to college. In s2 at the beginning he was already not sure about it, saying he would like stay back for Nancy because she's a year younger and he could just start working at his dad's business. After the breakup he got a severe concussion, which made it hard to keep up with his sports. Plus with Billy being there and him taking over, essentially, he just didn't care enough. I also think his connection with Dustin played into him staying back, he definitely views him as his brother and similar to Jonathan he's also protective of the people he loves, so I think he just wants to keep an eye out for Dustin and partially Max (after the Billy fight in my universe he offered her to come over when Billy was being the worst to her). Also after the breakup he went into a sorta crisis, literally everything around him came crumbling down. Nancy was the only normalcy he clung on, he changed his ways partially for her and lost his friends. I think he just doesn't know what he wants to do rn so he stayed back. Wish we could have gotten this instead of hey Steve is so dumb and such loser let's make every single character he considers important fun of him.

i honestly think that after s2 steve kinda just fell into this weird pit of like… idk, hopelessness? he has no close friends anymore because he dumped them for nancy, and sure he probably has people he’s friends with, but no close friends. nancy calls him bullshit and they breakup. he’s gets beaten so badly he’s unconscious for at least 20 minutes, which means brain damage. he likely had to drop basketball. and he never managed to send off for early application!

like, the poor boy has it rough. i think by the time he needs to send off an application, he just can’t be bothered to, like what’s the point now? he already thinks he won’t get in, and he’s got a job with his dad after school (or so he thinks). and now he’s got dustin to think about (and in my version of stranger things he also has max. and to a lesser extent lucas. lucas has a good family life, so he’s not quite as involved, but he defo still wants to keep him safe). i definitely think helping dustin out and driving him around helped give steve a bit of purpose, made him want to stick around. and if the upside down ever popped it’s head back around, he’d want to be there to keep everyone safe!!

so yeah. i totally think he just never ended up applying. and i will continue to believe that despite all the dumb jokes the duffers shove in.

[lesbianslovebts]

starting to think about looking for a new job in the very near future and my biggest fear rn is just. being in a new workplace, new people who have been there for so long already, just integrating myself into the place. leaving where I am now. and it's proper holding me back from even starting the job hunt. I know u recently got a new job if I'm not mistaken? did you have any worries like this or anything like that? advice maybe? 😭

Yes, I started a new job a month ago! Big huge response under the cut!

There were several factors that went into the decision. First, I hated my old job. It was a call center, and every single millisecond was monitored. I literally had to time my shits. They kept changing the metrics by which they measured our performance (making it harder to do "well" when, by old standards, I was doing "excellent"). They never approved same-day PTO. Each unapproved absence was a mark on your record that got you one step closer to being fired. An unapproved absence, even excused by a doctor's note, was still a mark on your record. I don't even know how that can be legal. They kept firing hardworking, established people and replacing them with new people overseas to take advantage of even worse labor laws and exchange rates. 🙃

The thing is, even though I'm autistic and have phone anxiety, I genuinely enjoyed helping people who've been victims of fraud. I was good at it, too. I was there for almost 5 years, but I knew I was considered expendable. Their policies were blatantly ableist, and I just couldn't take it anymore. Second, I wanted a job where I could go into the office. The old one changed to permanent work from home, and I kept having severe depression from being so isolated. Third, I wanted a job that would use my talents. I mean, I was good at taking phone calls, but I double-majored in math and Japanese, graduated summa cum laude, and was inducted in Phi Beta Kappa lol. And lastly, I wanted a job with opportunity for growth. (A career? 🤢)

So, the desire to get a new job started a couple years ago. But first, I had to buy my own car. I did that in February. Then the whole process of finding a new job began in April. I was in an intensive outpatient therapy program for 6 weeks. I filed a short-term disability claim and was out of work for that time. I worked on getting myself better, and got help from my peers, the therapists, the social workers, and my mom to brush up my resume and cover letter and start looking at jobs. I returned to work at the end of my disability claim with the hope that I wouldn't be there much longer.

I applied to a total of 3 different jobs, and it took several weeks to do one after the other. I would get too overwhelmed doing more than one at a time. I did the work myself, but my mom had to poke and prod me and be there as an emotional support. The first application was immediately rejected. I did a phone interview and an in-person interview for the second one and got rejected. Then my mom heard about a coworker from another department at her company retiring. They were having trouble finding a new person, so my mom told me to apply for that job. I had a phone interview and a videochat interview and got an offer after a week or so. It was a $9k bump in pay. 😳

Don't get me wrong, the change was incredibly stressful. I cried on my last day at the old job even though I had worked from home for the past 3 years and didn't have any strong relationships with my coworkers. I'm autistic, so change is extra difficult for me. And my shift went from 1 PM - 10 PM to 7:30 AM - 4 PM. That was rough. On top of that, I've developed chronic migraine (more than half of the days in a month) this year. I'm also immunocompromised and have IBS and sensory issues. So, I just have to work through the internalized shame of being disabled. I have a lot of work to do still. I had planned on telling my boss that I'm autistic the first day, but I still haven't mentioned it. It might be obvious based on the stuff I do and bring, though. I wear a mask and giant pink goggles. I bring earplugs, noise cancelling headphones, discreet stim toys, ibuprofen, rizatriptan, anti-nausea meds, Tums, Gas-X, Afrin, and hand sanitizer in my backpack. I've had a couple crying episodes worrying about the social aspect of talking to people and the job itself. But I know this will be a much better fit for me, and this is a company I could work at until I retire.

So, part of it was hard work, and the other part was luck that my mom also works at the company and heard about the position. In these times, I know 3 job applications is nothing, but it took all of my strength just to do those consecutively. My advice? Get an accountability buddy. Try to find someone who can help you break down the process into manageable chunks and make you do them at a reasonable pace, without judgment. Could be a friend, a parent, a sibling, a partner, an old teacher, whoever. As for the actual hunting on the Accursed Websites? You'll have to ask Google for help. That's what I did. 😭

P.S. (IMPORTANT!) With my experience in bank fraud, I've seen a lot of job scams. Take these tips to heart (if you're in America): 1.) Make sure the position on Indeed or wherever is ALSO on the official company website. If possible, apply on the official website. 2.) No company will ever give you a check to buy supplies for the job. A true company will order and ship the supplies to you. 3.) No company will ever prepay you for work you haven't done yet. 4.) No company will ever overpay you and ask you to send part of the money back via Zelle, CashApp, Venmo, PayPal, etc. 4.) No company will ever email you a check. 5.) If you're not familiar with checks and aren't sure if it's legit, call the bank listed on the check to see if it's legit or fraud. 6.) Any too-good-to-be-true work-from-home job is a 100% a scam. 7.) If you think only the elderly fall for scams like this, you're wrong. 18- to 25-year-olds are another big scam victim demographic, especially for scams involving checks or 3rd party payment processors (CashApp, Venmo, etc.). Banks can and will terminate your accounts if you accidentally commit bank fraud or money laundering. 😬

Best of luck!

[twothirdsgenius]

currently in the onboarding process for a job and single every day my parents are still like “have you applied here yet” and “have you called so and so yet to check on your application” like they are just fully pretending like the job i accepted doesn’t exist? despite me telling them that i handed over some important docs for the background check for this job TODAY my mom was still like “you should reach out to [ ] he said that he’d interview you for a paraprofessional position”

and i just. i know it’s naive to except anything different from your parents after so many years but damn. i literally quit my job and did not leave the house for three months i was so fucking depressed, and now i’m getting back out there and trying to regain some sense of normalcy and again. a pipe dream but god it would just be nice if they were occasionally proud of me. or even just content.