#came together and presumably loved each other despite their differences

[nikibogwater]

Tonight, I'm thinking about how scientists discovered genetic traces of Neanderthal in certain populations of modern-day humans, and how that means that at some point in ancient prehistory, there might have been a cute Neanderthal lady with long, thick hair, all bundled up nice and cozy in wooly mammoth pelts, just out gathering nuts or something, and suddenly she looks up and sees this scruffy, flat-browed Homo sapiens dude who's halfway through skinning a giant bear. And he's staring at her slack-jawed, with stars in his eyes because she's so different, and so beautiful, and lucky for him she feels the same way about him, so they get married and have adorable hybrid cave babies together.

[avatarkv]

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (2)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc: 5264)

You swung your legs over the edge, feet ghosting just above the calm lake that surrounded this part of the forest. It was a bit far from the village, but you felt more at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be found easily. This was your own place and ironically enough, a spot you and Jake had found years ago. You could see the familiar marks left from the arrows you had shot, deeply engraved in some of the trunks. 

One drawing had caught your eye. From one of the trees, a bit taller than the rest; an image of you and your father. It was silly, clearly etched by the hands of a kid no older than six. The lines were harsh as the wood itself was tough, but it was there– almost mockingly. You scoffed, mindlessly grabbing a pebble and flinging it right on the center. 

You have barely moved since you arrived here; detached yourself the moment you had sat near the jagged rocks. It was a habit you presumed you got from Jake. The longer you stayed, the more you succumbed to your ever-bleeding wounds– there was just something so tragic about being an eldest daughter.   

You weren’t all bite, despite the constant snarl on your lips. You weren't so egotistical as to think that you couldn't possibly be wrong, but tonight, tonight you knew damn well Jake was to blame. 

‘Is it because I’m not your daughter?’ 

Your own voice had rang through your mind. You wince in response, cringing internally. That could very well be the case– you weren't part of their family. You can’t help but think that they may have done it out of pity. 

But Kiri wasn’t exactly their own either. In fact, you and Kiri weren’t at all opposites at birth.

While you came from Tsu’tey, she was from Grace; both of you from separate blood and brought together by one. However you weren’t exactly close to Eywa or have the skills she possessed. Kiri was undeniably special– spiritual and awfully attuned. Heck, she had managed to tame her own ikran simply by asking it to be her friend. 

Still, there was no reason for Jake to treat you differently. You were jealous– of course you are. If he’s able to be as gentle as he is with your baby sister, why couldn’t he with you? It was a sickening thought, to think that he acts so rigid and unrelenting around you while he looked at her like she had hanged every star in the night sky. Sure Kiri was special, but you were at least his daughter too. Can’t he spare you even just a second of a loving glance?

With Kiri, he listens intently– looks at her with such tenderness as he takes in her every word. It was the same gaze he wore whenever we visited the sky-people lab; Jake would stare a bit too long at Grace, expression somewhere along the line of reminiscing. Whenever he had moments like these, his eyes would hold some sort of longing– a promise. Perhaps it was because Grace meant the world to him– literally. She taught him everything about Pandora, showed him the way of the Na’vi; gave him another shot at living. 

Kiri was exactly like her mother; wise and cunning. Jake probably sees Grace in her very image.  

You’d think this would be the embodiment of every father with their daughters; kind and vulnerable, but you would argue otherwise. When he looked at you, it was more of regret– grief prolonging. It was a gaze so ugly and unwanted; a weight you’re not supposed to carry. 

Because you’re exactly like Tsu’tey and Jake sees him in yourself. 

It was no secret that Jake was softer when it came to Tuk and Kiri. While you are relieved that it had been that way, you can never pray for them to experience the struggles you are burdened with– it tugged on your heartstrings that you would never feel the warmer side of your father; will never know how it feels to be babied nor to be held gently. 

You were her daughter too so you didn’t understand. What made you any different from them that you had to pretend his love was hidden beneath his icy glares and dismissive grunts? These were emotions nonetheless– however odd or minuscule they may have been. You thought that maybe, just maybe, there’d be a crack to this exterior. Maybe if you tried harder, Jake would soften up to you too. 

But that wasn’t the case because he never did. You had picked apart pieces of yourself that you thought weren’t pleasing– did better despite your age. You were young and only yearned for your father’s approval. 

( “You’re not doing it right. Again.” 

As you stretched your already sore arms for the nth time, ready to take aim, his hands tug on your stance– a bit harsher than intended. Light continued to glare down on your figure as you tirelessly corrected your posture again. Your ears pricked up at the sound of your sibling’s laughter, coming to you from afar. You stole a glance at them as they continued to play and enjoy themselves by the water, their childish exuberance highlighted by their splashing around in the shallow waves.

“Can’t I take a break?” You whined, dropping your stiff shoulders. Hearing them have fun made you want to jump in as well. 

“I didn’t let you talk my ear off just to give up. Come on, you promised me a bullseye today, baby girl.” He said, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You look down to your feet, a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want him to not take you seriously– you fear that if you let him down now, he wouldn’t let you do anything again. “Just one hit and I’ll let you off–”

His head turns sharply towards Kiri as she calls out for Jake, asking him to join them in their game. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle as he yells back a short response of ‘in a minute.’

“Again, come on.” His hands move quickly and firmly grasp your arms, helping you back to the same position before. “I’ll be watching, promise.” With a light tap on your shoulder, he rushes off, chasing after your siblings towards the water.

The quicker you got it done, the sooner you would be able to play. You pulled on the string again and released a heavy sigh before releasing the arrow. After several tries of firing shots that missed their mark, you finally managed to hit dead center with one shot. Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief crossing your face before you jump excitedly, “Did you see that, dad? Did you–”

Your yell was instantly drowned out by Lo'ak's hearty laugh. You couldn't help but feel deflated as you watched your father lift him up onto his shoulders while the others trailed behind them in a fit of giggles. You run towards them, bow in hand. 

“You weren’t watching–” You tried to pull his hand in your direction, gesturing towards the arrow that was still firmly embedded into the red ring you had created on the trunk of the tree.

"Ah, darn, I missed it?" He said between breathy chuckles as Kiri tried to tug on his tail from behind, barely taking note of your work. "Why don't you do it again? This time I'll be sure to pay attention."

“But I want to play with you now.” 

“Dad– Neteyam caught something! It’s huge, come look!” Jake slowly lowers Lo'ak from his shoulders, letting them pull him towards where Neteyam stood. The children squealed at the sight of the fish (with Kiri letting out a few disgusted gags), but Jake reveled in pride. “Yeah, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman!”

You stayed still on the shore watching them– watching him. It was so easy to lose your father’s attention despite your best efforts. You retreated back to your spot, eyes glaring at the arrow sticking out from the tree. If a single bullseye wasn’t enough to impress Jake, then you’d just have to perfect your aim. Your hits will never miss again and you’ll make him proud.) 

You were clueless. If only you knew that there was no satisfying your father, you would’ve spent the days tirelessly training to play instead– to be an actual kid without having the worries of a grown adult. 

You could leave. At the thought of it, your head swiveled towards the unfamiliar path that would take you away from the clan– away from everything you know. You could leave and never come back; take your father’s name and build your own person. There was this selfish thought pricking at the back of your brain that once they noticed your absence, everyone would look for you and even feel sorry for what they put you through; that Jake would be sorry to lose you. 

You wonder what kind of reputation you'd leave for him when everyone realizes you had run away, never to come back. But it was unfair– your mother would be devastated. Neytiri had already gone through enough, were you worth another heartbreak? She didn’t deserve that. 

Suppose you could only dream that Jake would put on an effort for a search party– for him to grow hopeless and regretful while searching for you. You could only dream that he’d run towards you, arms wide open. “You scared me, sweetheart. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, dad’s sorry.” 

But you’ve been away for hours and no one has reached out yet. They probably assumed that you only needed some time and space to clear your head, not seeing any cause for alarm. The only thing that waited for you back home was a hell of a scolding and a week’s punishment of tending the ikrans. Sighing, you decided to just head back.  

Your steps are careful– silent, as you near your hut again. You expected for the worst. Neytiri could have told Jake to stay guard outside until you finally decided to come home for all you know, but you weren’t ready for another heated conversation with him just yet. So as you make your way back, you stick your neck out behind the bushes, trying to make out of the surroundings. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jake that was waiting outside. It was Kiri. Her figure glows underneath the starry night and it was hard not to be discouraged, but you suppose it was better than having to deal with your father again. 

"Kiri?" You called out in a low voice, and instantly her head snapped up. She quickly jumps to her feet upon seeing your arrival, heart racing as she rushes towards you. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms tightly around you in a hug. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “Oh great mother, thank you.”

You tentatively put your arms around her in response, hands patting the top of her head. “This isn’t the first time I ran from home,” Your voice is soft– unsure. 

Feeling your hesitance, she slowly withdraws from you. “But it’s the first time sempul has said something so..” She stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head as if to clear away her thoughts. “I worry you’d finally want to leave.” 

You stared at her, feeling your insides soften. You could never get angry at Kiri, no matter the situation. You couldn’t just leave. She was your sister still and no one would ever understand you like she does. No one will ever grow you another sibling. As much as you hated yourself, you were meant to watch as she thrives.  

Siblings were such a weird concept; it was hard for you to wrap your head around it. Despite the fact that you could hate them with every fibre of your being, you’d still love them unconditionally and protectively; despise them but burn down the whole universe for their safety. It made no sense to be so full of such strong, conflicting emotions all at once, but she was your sister and that was enough explanation.

“Stupid eywa-powers.” You joke as you take your index finger, lightly pressing it against her forehead. She playfully swats your hand away with a laugh, eyes crinkling.

She silently murmurs, “Not stupid” to herself, a small laugh escaping her lips.

You two slowly sat on your wicker chairs in front of the fire. The seat creaked as you made yourself comfortable. Jake was real handy with his hands back then– made all sorts of things for everyone. Wooden Toruks, comfortable hammocks, and each one a special chair. Everyone’s name was etched on the back and although it was a bit smaller now, considering it was made for when you were toddlers, no one had grown out of sitting on it. 

You smiled at the memory. It was like tradition for the Sully family– a silly one, but loved nonetheless. He first made you the wicker chair and although it was rather flimsy, you argued that Neteyam should have one as well when he came around. 

It was so conflicting– to be able to remember your father was mean, despite being kind, then to know him as kind, despite being mean. You fear Jake could be every word you think of but the word father. 

“Remember that time when we played hide-and-seek and we all thought Lo’ak cheated by hiding back at home only to find out we left him at the forest?” Kiri spoke, eyes fixated at the flames. 

You chuckled, “Yeah, even dad was in on it– told us not to tell mom that we left him.”

“Oh– and that one time they left us to Mo’at to have their little dates and came home to see grandma knocked out and her hut a mess?”

You laughed, rather loudly this time. You remembered the memory like it was yesterday– little Neteyam wrapped from head to toe in bandages as you two tried to play healers; pastes and herbs were scattered everywhere while Lo’ak was playing to his own devices happily (something about kid Lo’ak and wanting to play alone most of the time). “Lo’ak and his lisp trying to explain why he was covered in warrior paint all over his body.”

“Ki-ti told me to do it!” Kiri squeaked out in her best impression of Lo’ak, before both of you burst into smothered laughter— careful not to wake anyone up. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, the area was silent once more. There was no sound other than the crackle of the fire, its flame illuminating the darkness in the vicinity. 

“I’m trying to see the situation in both perspectives,” She starts once the quietness grows unbearable. You averted your gaze, not wanting to talk it out with her.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Kiri.” You threw your head back, your eyes burning a hole into the night sky.

“I just don’t want it to explode like what happened a while ago again.” 

You kiss your teeth and let out an exasperated sigh, tongue clicking as you exhale. Deep down you knew that there was no getting out of this situation, so you may as well hear what they had to say. “Fine. What’s your diagnosis, doc?” 

The flap of the hut's entrance is suddenly thrown back, revealing a rather disoriented looking Lo'ak stumbling out. It's clear he had just been stirred from his slumber. “You two aren’t as quiet as you think you are.” He said, his voice low. He made his way over to Kiri and sat down beside her with an audible yawn. “What is it this time?”

“Eywa tells me of your troubles,” Kiri starts, ignoring Lo’ak. “Father isn’t at all the greatest, I know, but he’s trying– His choices aren't really the best, but it’s what he knows. If you think about it, he was just as young once and you don’t exactly become a father twice.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“She’s saying– cut him some slack, maybe?” Lo'ak breaks the stillness with an unexpected remark, his voice quite loud in comparison to Kiri's careful words. His comment catches you off guard and you shift your position uncomfortably on your seat.

“Brother, you really have to stop going out with Spider. You and your lingo is getting harder and harder to discern.” Kiri jabs him from the side, “What he means to say is– maybe you should try being the bigger person instead?”

You let out a deep breath through your nostrils, not enjoying the direction of the conversation. Your brow crinkles in concentration as you try to make sense of why the discussion was taking this turn. You had no desire to pick apart the problem any further and yet, here you were– perhaps Neytiri told them to talk some sense to you? To quiet down for the sake of your old man?

Already sensing your anger, Lo’ak quickly interjects again. “Listen, It’s like,” He turns to you, the grogginess in his expression fading away and being replaced by something more serious. “If dad happens to reprimand us, we save our excuses or any reason we have. The response he wants is an apology and an apology is what you’re going to say– that’s it.”

“But that’s unfair.” You let out a groan, lips turning into a deep frown. “Especially to you and Neteyam.”

Lo’ak only lets out a playful scoff, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You mean, especially to Neteyam. Bro’s an automated machine– expect him to immediately take the blame.” He says, grinning. “I think dad is just.. cracking the code still? Shit, I don’t know. He had to learn to live on two different stars. It must be hard on him.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you? Trying to understand someone older?” 

Lo’ak stills for a minute as heavy silence envelopes everyone. “Of course it does. It stings a lot sis– but I think, no parent deserves a resentful son when all they wanted was for me to be better.” 

Then it crashes down upon you like a heavy sack filled with rocks, a realization pressing directly against your chest as you watch Lo’ak’s face, illuminated against the flicker of the flames– the lights cast an image you failed to recognize before. Your brothers weren’t exactly immune to Jake’s ways either. He was equally as tough on them. 

Maybe you can try for their sake. Maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for your father’s open arms. 

“Why don’t you join us tomorrow instead? Take your mind off things. We’re visiting the old shack with Spider,” Lo'ak's hand carefully reaches for your hair, the tips of his fingers ruffling through your braids– a gesture he picked up after Neteyam. You chuckle, suddenly slightly embarrassed. 

“Isn’t it dangerous?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 

“It is,” Kiri answers for Lo’ak, giving him a pointed glare. “Tuk heard about it and is begging to come along.” 

“More like blackmailed me– I’ll tell mom if you won’t let me come.” He put on a mocking impression of Tuk, sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated way. Kiri gave him another jab, causing him to hiss in response. “But it should be safe.” 

Kiri rolls her eyes. “We are so getting into trouble.”

“You guys go,” You say, back resting against the chair again. “Think I should fix the situation with dad first before getting in trouble again.” 

You feel Kiri’s eyes on you– gaze emitting a sense of gratitude, almost like a tangible thank you for trying. It’s funny how she’s younger than you and yet she looked out for you more than you had. 

You let out a deep sigh as the three of you settled in, reveling in the quiet serenity of the woods. The soft sounds of the forest enveloped you, providing a sense of calm that was hard to miss. Slowly, it lulled you all to a familiar kind of comfort. 

Breakfast was unsurprisingly silent. 

You felt like the room was full of robots, their limbs jerking and movements mechanically programmed as they ate. As everyone shifted ever so slightly, it seemed almost like they were doing it robotically - stiff and slow. It was like they were walking on eggshells around you and it was hard not to roll your eyes. 

It was painfully awkward– a hard watch as Jake tried hard not to make eye contact with you. Neytiri would occasionally jab him from the side and pinch the fat of his thigh. ‘Talk to her.’ – her glare would send him the message. 

He lets out a sigh before visibly gulping. “Y/n.” 

Your head suddenly jerks upwards from the bowl resting in your lap, startled by your father’s voice calling for you. Neytiri watches in anticipation while your heart pounded madly against your chest. Suddenly, the air fills with tension as all movement ceases. Not a single soul speaks or breathes– waiting.

“Pass the salt.” Jesus Christ. 

You give him a deadpan expression, stretching your arms over to pass it to him. He carefully takes it, shaking it over his already salty meal. Neytiri could only push her hands against her face in frustration, a groan of exasperation coming from deep within. After a few minutes, she finishes up and leaves with Tuk in her arms. The rest follow suit.  

“I’m off,” You finish cleaning up the table, standing up from your seat and grabbing the weapons you needed for an impromptu hunt. Without waiting for a reply, you left Jake alone on the table. 

As you trekked further into the forest, you prayed to Eywa for guidance. You were careful to smear the war paint onto your cheeks and forehead– breathing labored, but focused nonetheless. 

You figured, your father has been doing bad from the recent hunts– only coming home with fruits and small portions of meat, sometimes none at all. It was that kind of season where the animals were out to hide and hibernate. You didn’t know where you got the confidence that you’d be able to return with something, considering the best next best warriors could hardly do so. 

You had to try regardless; you thought that perhaps it could be a way for you and Jake to open up a conversation with each other. Maybe he could soften down his glare a bit when you come home with something to eat– but as hours passed and the sun burned to noon, you were only met with disappointment. 

You stopped by an unfamiliar area, leaning against a tree as you tried to catch your breath. You regret not bringing your ikran with you– just what were you thinking?

As if the great mother had noticed your desperation, a familiar sound roars from a distance. Your ears perked up as you tried to walk through the thick bushes. A lone sturmbeest, drinking by the river. You sighed in relief before hurriedly taking your bow out of your back. They mostly traveled by a herd, but today might just be your luckiest– you stretch your arms, carefully approaching the animal. 

Just this once, you pleaded, be in my favor. 

The journey home was dreadful. You had been carrying meat and a few bones for what seemed like hours on end, feeling the strain in your back from the task. It was a small sturmbeest– presumably female by the size, but it should be enough to provide meals for a week or so. Before you knew it, eclipse approached fast and you were eager to meet your hammock. 

You couldn’t see; unable to hold any form of light as you needed both hands to carry the heavy sack, but the thought of going home with something to proudly show your father rekindled the sense of pride that was long gone; a feeling you hadn't had in a long time– burned by the countless times you’ve tried to gain even a drop of recognition.

You were successful in hunting a sturmbeest when no one couldn’t for the past weeks– your father would be proud and that was all the strength you needed to continue waking. 

Noticing the familiar path back to the clan, a surge of adrenaline courses through your body from the thought of already nearing home. But as the horns blared from the village, you felt nothing but confusion– What could it mean and why this late? You quickened your pace towards them. 

Ikrans flew in, landing at the open space as everyone gathered around. You squeezed your way in through the crowd– stomach churning as the sound of Tuk's cries became more and more clear with every step; but before you could run to your baby sister, you were harshly pulled back. You immediately recognize your father’s calloused hands, but this time his grip was harsh– unrelenting. Careful not to trip on your feet, you steadied yourself, head looking up to meet his glare. 

“Where were you?” 

And just like that, your thoughts come crashing down around you from the sight of your father towering your figure, leaning in slightly. You feel it in the pit of your stomach; this wasn't what you wanted to come home to, this wasn't what you were expecting.

“Sir I–” 

“The kids are hurt,” Neytiri hissed, tugging him sharply away from you. “For once, hold your tongue.”

He gives you one last glance, nostrils flaring as he walks away. That was your cue to trail behind. You walked behind him, eyes cast downwards as your thoughts raced through your mind. Neytiri is quick to come and stand by your side, soft kisses pressed into the top of your head. “Are you hurt, ma’ite? Where were you?” She softly asks. 

You pause, feeling the words on the tip of your tongue leave the moment you try to open your mouth to speak. For some reason, you felt embarrassed— ashamed. 

“What happened?” You whispered as you neared your grandmother’s hut. You glanced back to your sibling’s shivering figures, all of them unable to look you in the eye. Neytiri didn’t answer either– didn’t know how to tell you that they had found them once again. They processed the severity of the situation still, clearly shaken up and scared. 

Everyone stepped inside, Mo'at immediately gathering each of them in a warm embrace. She spoke her thanks to Eywa in a gentle murmur, kissing the top of their heads. Neytiri quickly drew Tuk into her own arms, easing her shaking body. 

“Outside, now.” Jake whispers before leaving. You take one last look around at all the people in the room before finally following him, your palms beginning to sweat as your anxiety intensifies.

Once you both find yourselves in a place where there were no lingering stares or whispers, (and without Neytiri having to save your ass this time), he turns to you, anger just as fiery as before. He strides back and forth, feet heavy on the ground as he attempts to choose his words carefully.

“I–” He started to speak, but then averted his gaze, his jaw clenched tight as he tried again. “Where were you?” 

You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you mull over the question, taking a deep breath before finally attempting to answer. “I went out on a hunt. I have–”

“Without telling anyone firsthand? With scattered avatars over the perimeter?” Jake is quick to interject, arms flailing in anger. “Just what were you thinking? You knew about them going to the old shack and you did nothing to prevent it?” 

Your shoulders slump wearily, feeling extremely overwhelmed. “I only wanted to–”

“Jesus Christ, it’s always about what you want, yeah? You with wanting to be olo’eykte, you with wanting to be heard. You and your goddamn wants had us all worried!” 

And as you listen to him raise his voice, you turn younger and younger– until you were that same kid trying to tug on his arms to look at your first hit; that same kid who would do anything just for a moment of his time. It was like being ten years old all over again and realizing that he was slowly slipping away. That’s where you finally decided that Jake— your father, was just capable of unloving a child. 

You take a step back, feeling the frustration boiling over as well. “Well maybe if you were a better father, they wouldn’t have the need to go against you every once in a while!” You shouted with the same volume as his, “You act as if we’re some sort of troops rather than a family–”

“I do it for you– for everyone! To keep them safe! You think it’s easy?” 

“Well you did a pretty good job because from what I see, they’re shaking in their boots inside grandma’s hut!” You sarcastically remarked, “Best dad of Pandora, yeah?” 

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters under his breath before looking up, as if he was pleading for Eywa to lengthen his patience. He then looked at you, eyes momentarily softening. You were breathing heavily, fangs baring. It was funny, he thought. You weren’t his daughter and yet you stood in front of him now looking exactly like him. 

What he didn’t understand was that it wasn't Tsu’tey’s attitude that was passed down to you– rather, it was Jake’s anger you inherited. This was all him. All his fault. 

“I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.” You muttered, gaze not meeting his. “There’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the olo’eyktan and a father and you’re doing a real shit job at the latter.”

I miss the latter, you failed to say. 

You failed to see the way his ears flattened against his head, how his shoulders dropped like he couldn’t hold the weight of the world’s pressure anymore– but you were unable to see him. No, you two didn’t see each other eye to eye. To know that you failed your child was something a parent would never want to hear. His own daughter resented him and it was a heartache beyond repair. 

“You think you make parenting any easier for me?” 

“Then I wish you never took me in!” 

It was such a thoughtless thing to do; to utter words that you know will only harm you more than they would ever heal - but it was there, finally out of your system; a though that lingered for as long as you can remember. Why take me in? Why raise a kid you wouldn't be able to care for?

You only wished that words could be undone but neither of you knew when to bite one's tongue back.

“Yeah?” He challenged, letting out a mocking snicker. “I really wish I didn’t– is that what you want me to say? Then go ahead and leave. Find a new family, see if they won’t find you any less difficult.”

And that was the final blow– the push you needed to leave. You looked at him in disbelief, vision blurry with tears. You shoved the bag right to his chest, forgetting it momentarily amidst the shouting session you just had with your father; the one you desperately wanted to present to him. With nothing else to say, you stormed off, leaving him behind. 

Oh Eywa, there is nothing else as undoing as being an eldest daughter. 

believe me, i've been trying to post this since 7 am and it's already a quarter 'til 9. tumblr has got to b fucking w me bec i just ran through at least 4 problems trying to get this on my account

anyway, hellaur. i know this is a bit overdue, but i had to make adjustments because i just had to get everyone's inputs and opinions in! i absolutely LOVE everyone's ideas nd you best believe i am trying to make everything word (also bec of the fact that i am a slow writer, so pls bear w me) hopefully i'm doing the story justice! this part went through a lot of modifications bec i kept feeling unsatisfied (i still am, kinda)

also, i couldn't tag a few people! 'm so sorry, some of the names don't pop up when i type it down ;(

tags: @erm2020quinzeanos @al-lethan @violilaqrs @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @hiddensnow1 @lunyyx @pearlsandcoconuts @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch

[dreamescapeswriting]

Melodic Rivalry ~ KNJ

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

GENRE: Enemies to lovers, implied sexual interaction, surprise pregnancy, hiding pregnancy trope, angst, soft ending [Didn't include smut as it's an anon and I don't know your age, so it's implied that they have sex xx]

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

You stared down at the magazine with a disgusted look on your face, a photo of you and Namjoon on the cover with giant smiles on your faces as you sat together but the shot wasn't real. The two of you could never sit still long enough for a photo to be taken so the magazine had to photoshop the two of you together to fit the story that they had written and published.

All about how you and Namjoon were the perfect team, both of you had undeniable talent and worked well together in the studio. Namjoon was a musician with the knack of composing soul-stringing melodies, his talent knew no bounds and his music had the oer to move even the most stoic of souls. You were a producer with an unparalleled ear for sound, with the ability to transform raw talent into polished masterpieces and despite working well together in the music industry that was where everything stopped.

The two of you were like oil and water - constantly at odds with each other. Your egos clashed, your opinions collided, and your tempers flared at the slightest provocation. Working together was fraught with tension, each session devolving into a battle of wills and creative differences but each time the music came out brilliantly. 

As you got to the studio door you pushed it open and found it dimly lit, the only light coming from a soft glow of a mixing console. Namjoon sat at his piano, his fingers dancing across the keys getting lost in whatever he was composing so you stood at the soundboard, your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. He was supposed to be working on something more upbeat, not another love ballad he was no doubt writing.

"Oh, how touching. Another one of your generic love ballads, I presume?" You asked sarcastically, ignoring the glare that Namjoon shot your way, his jaw tight as he stared down at the keys.

"If you have something to say, Yn, say it. Otherwise, keep your critiques to yourself." He said through gritted teeth.

"Typical. Can't handle a little criticism, can you?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Criticism? All you do is tear down everything I create! You have no respect for my talent!"

"Respect? Please. You're the one who waltzes in here with your inflated ego and expects everyone to bow down to you."

The tension in the room was thick with unresolved animosity but you stared at one another, your eyes twitching.

"For someone who claims to hate my music so much, you spend a lot of time listening to it." You stared at him, shaking your head and scoffing a little. Of course, you listened to it, you had to because it was your job.

"That's because it's my job, you arrogant prick!" You cried out, your anger way past your boiling point now but Namjoon just stood up and took a step closer to you, his gaze burning with intensity.

"Is that the only reason?" He asked softly, your breath caught in your throat, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

"Of course not." You whispered, your voice barely coming out. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet sanctuary of the studio.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. And then, in a rush of pent-up emotion, your lips met in a searing kiss—a collision of desire and frustration that sent shockwaves through you both.

For a moment, you were lost in each other, your bickering and resentment fading into the background as you surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had always lingered between you.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You stepped away from him, your fingertips gently touching your lips as you stared at him.

"We shouldn't have done that." Your voice trembled a little as you looked up at Namjoon, his eyes were blazing.

"Why not? We both know there's something between us." He stares down at you.

"This... this is madness. We can't stand each other." You whimpered, shaking your head at him, Namjoon stepped closer to you though, his voice dropping as he stared down at you,

"Maybe that's because we're so alike. Two stubborn souls fighting against the inevitable." You determined to hate him, to push him away from you crumbled, your walls tumbling down in the face of Namjoon's unwavering honesty.

"We can't even stand to look at one another." You mumbled at him, it was true. The two of you could barely go ten minutes without a fight breaking out. The kiss had been a one-off, the passion and sparks you'd felt were nothing more than a static shock or something.

"Stop fighting it, are you scared?" He smirked at you and you hated him for it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face,

"No," You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the way your heart was thumping for him, the way your palms were sweating. 

"Everyone knows we should be together, we should just embrace it," Namjoon smirked, your eyes meeting as you bit down on your lip. You had your reservations, the two of you bickered like an old married couple and you weren't sure it was healthy.

"Stop overthinking it," He whined before your lips met once more, the tentative kiss turning quickly into a fiery passion neither of you could deny. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as finally that pent-up tension and longer erupted into a raw and unbridled kiss. 

"I've wanted to do that for so long." Namjoon rushed out, his voice husky as you worked on unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing,

"Me too." You breathed out, kissing him deeply as he carefully took you over to the sofa, both of your clothes being strewn around the room as the kiss between you heated up once again.

Ever since that night in the studio with Namjoon, you did everything within your power to avoid him, you started working from home, switching to another group to work with not being able to face him but today had been inevitable, you had to go into work because of a meeting with Hannah, your manager and also one of your best friends.

The two of you had shared one night of unbelievable passion but when you woke up the next morning he was gone, his clothes were gone and there was a note on his desk asking you to lock up when you were dressed. Since there you'd not even received a text asking how you were, or even a call and you hated him more for it.

I've wanted this for so long.

Had been such bullshit, something he was saying just so that he could get laid, anger bubbled inside of you until you snapped the pencil you were holding.

"You okay? You look unwell," Hannah said as she gently rubbed your back, you were feeling a little under the weather but you put it down to the fact that you were going to have to face Namjoon sometime soon.

"Just a little queasy, that's all." You said with a forced smile, trying to brush it off but Hannah narrowed her eyes at you and exchanged a look with John, one of your other work friends.

"You've been feeling off for a while now, maybe take some holiday days." He suggested with a furrowed brow. It wasn't like you to get sick which was a little concerning for all of them.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." You muttered weakly, slowly standing up from the desk as your stomach churned with anxiety and a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yn?" Hannah called out but you sat back down in the chair, your bin between your legs as you threw up the contents of your stomach again.

"Here, drink this," John said as he slid you over a glass of water, Hannah was running to her desk and rummaging through it all.

"Hans? What are you looking for?" You mumbled, wiping your mouth with a tissue and staring at her as she walked back over to you.

She was the only person other than you and Namjoon that knew what happened in that studio 6 weeks ago and John frowned at the blue box.

"Take it," She told you plainly, John sent her a puzzled look with confusion written across his face.

"I...I can't...It'll make it all real," You'd had your suspicions that it was true but you figured if you ignored it long enough and denied it then it couldn't be real.

"Take it, we'll be here for you, no matter what," Hannah told you as John nodded, helping you stand up as they all walked you toward the women's toilets.

Those three minutes you were supposed to wait for the test felt like three hours, each second ticking by tortuously slowly as you, John and Hannah stared around the small office waiting for it to tell you the truth.

"Time," John said as his watch began to beep, your hand linked with Hannah's and you stared down at the pink stick, tears brimming inside of your eyes.

"I'm pregnant." Your voice trembled and instantly you were engulfed in a hug from your two favourite people.

"Work from home until we figure something out," Hannah told you, running her hands over your cheeks and wiping away the tears.

It had been almost five months since discovering you were pregnant and you'd done everything you could to hide it from Namjoon. If he had done everything to get you to leave him alone after your night together then you weren't going to tell him about the kid but the weight of hiding it was crushing you. 

You paced around your office, a mix of fear and uncertainty raging inside of you as you waited for John to hurry back with the next stack of assignments you needed to work through. 

"Everything is there, I'm sorry I promise next time I'll bring them to you. I'm just swamped." John said as he gave you a bag, you nodded quickly kissing his cheek and making a dart out of the door. You needed to get out of the building before anyone could spot you and the news got back to Namjoon.

Lost in your thoughts as you walked through the halls, you nearly collided with someone as you rounded a corner. You slowly looked up and whimpered finding Jungkook standing there,

"Hey! Sorry! Are you alright?" He frowned staring at you,

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed nervously but you just shook your head at him,

"I'm fine, just a bit...distracted." You said with a forced smile but Jungkook's browns knotted together as he slowly looked down at you, his eyes lingering on your swollen belly/

"Is everything okay? You look like you're about to pop.." He laughed softly and your heart raced, panic bubbling up inside of you as you struggled to come up with an explanation. Jungkook had seen you those seven months back coming out of Namjoon's studio with a freshly "fucked" look on your face.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just...tired, that's all." You said hesitantly, smiling weakly as he stared down at you.

"It's his...right?" He waited for you to say something but you didn't even want to admit it to yourself, admitting it to Namjoon's bandmember was going to be damn near impossible,

"Jungkook." You pleaded, shaking your head at him as if asking him to stop all of this.

"Yn, is it his?" You stared at him, your stomach churning with anxiety as you tried to think of something to say but your mind was racing at a million words a second. 

"Please, Jungkook, you can't tell Namjoon. He can't know about the baby." Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at you. Everyone knew how badly Namjoon wanted to be a father and hiding something like this from him would no doubt kill him.

"Why didn't you tell him? He has a right to know." He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, he knew you were pregnant and in a delicate place right now but Namjoon deserved to know he was going to have a kid.

"He lost that right when he made it clear that night meant nothing to him like he claimed it did." You grumbled, pulling your coat over to cover your bump to make sure no one else was likely to see you.

"Yn," Jungkook said slowly but you held your hand up,

"Don't make excuses for him Jungkook. He fucking used me." Your voice trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of everything finally causing you to crack.

"You can't hide this from him forever. He has a right to know."

"Just let me figure things out first." You mumbled, begging him as he stared down at you.

"Fine." He stared at you as you nodded, slowly walking away from him as you felt an impending doom hanging over you, threatening to shatter everything you'd built to protect yourself. 

After you left Jungkook stood outside of Namjoon's studio, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth he was about to reveal. As much as he wanted to keep your secret he didn't want to do that to his friend and he knew there was more to the story than Namjoon ignoring you after a night together. 

"Joonie, we need to talk." He said as he walked into the studio, Namjoon frowned at him but nodded for the youngest member to sit down.

"What's up?" He asked him slowly as Jungkook's throat tightened, his head muddled trying to find the right way to say it.

"It's about Yn." Namjoon's hand on his pen tightened,

"What about her?" He asked, animosity laced in his voice as he thought about you.

"She wanted to come crawling back to us? I don't want her working with us anymore." He grumbled out, Jungkook eyed him up as he stared at him wondering what had gone so terribly wrong between the two of you.

"She's not welcome here anymore."

"Why?" There was going to be no more dancing around the topic and not mentioning your name as if you were Voldemort.

"She knows what she did wrong." He hissed making Jungkook frown. It seemed the two of you believed the other was in the wrong.

"What did she do, Hyung?"

"She slept with me when she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home." Jungkook knew you were single, you'd devoted every single second of your life to music.

"Boyfriend? Noona doesn't have a boyfriend." 

"So who was John? He was texting her all night, asking where she was and when she was going to go back to him because he was waiting for her back home." None of that made sense,

"John is one of her co-workers, he works with TXT," Jungkook told him before realisation began to register with Namjoon who the man had been.

"So...W...What did you want to talk to me about?" Jungkook sighed a little.

"She's pregnant, Namjoon. Seven months along." Namjoon's world came to a crashing halt as he stared at him, his mind reeling in disbelief and confusion.

"How?" He asked shocked, Jungkook hesitated, his gaze filled with sympathy as he watched everything hit Namjoon.

"You know how." He said softly but Namjoon just stared at the floor. The truth hits him like a ton of bricks, everything falls into place. Your sudden avoidance, working from home and refusing to be their producer anymore. It was all making sense now.

"She's carrying my child," He whispered as Jungkook sighed a little.

"She asked me not to tell you but you needed to know," Namjoon nodded at him, barely acknowledging him as he slowly got up and made his way out of the studio.

Before he knew what was happening Namjoon was outside your place and knocking on the door. He knew it was going to be hard to talk to you about all of this since so much time had passed but it was time to face the truth.

"We have to talk." Namjoon said as soon as you opened the door to him, your chest aching with seeing him standing there. You knew Jungkook wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut so you'd been preparing for him.

"What about?" You stared at him as he took in a deep breath,

"About the baby," His eyes were filled with something you'd never seen from him before, he looked so vulnerable. 

"What about the baby?" You asked, stepping to the side and letting him into your apartment. 

"I want to be a part of their life, Yn. I want to be there for them, to watch them grow up, to be their father." Your breath caught in your throat at his words,

"Why? You practically kicked me out the night after we had sex so why all of a sudden do you care?"

"I thought you had a boyfriend! Okay? I saw a text from John and I thought-"

"That I was whoring myself out to everyone so you just decided to give me the cold shoulder?" You snapped angrily at him, you couldn't believe he would do something like this.

"You're the one hiding my child from me!" He grumbled at you and you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

"This is why we can't do it together. We fight all the time, we just scream at each other." You mumbled, sitting down on the sofa and feeling completely defeated. 

"Yn."

"Can you look at me and tell me that when this baby comes it'll work out between us?" You didn't want to keep his kid from him but you also were scared of everything that was coming,

"No."

"So-"

"But I love you, okay? Fuck, I've loved you for so long and I just never show it right." You stared at him in complete shock.

"I love you and I love our baby. I may not have been ready to admit it before, but now...now I can't imagine life without you."

"But-" You barely had a chance to object before Namjoon continued.

"The last seven months without getting to see you have been torture. I miss the jabs you used to say, I miss seeing you...Please."

"We've both made mistakes, Yn. But that doesn't mean we can't try and make things right. For the sake of our child, and for the sake of our love." Tears built inside of your eyes as you struggled to process everything.

"I want to believe you, I do...but...But I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of losing you again." You finally admit, your tears free falling as you finally let yourself admit you loved him back, that you were hopelessly in love with him.

"I won't let that happen, Yn, I promise you. Just give me a chance to prove it to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"I love you too," You whispered to him, your heart racing as he smiled down at you.

"We can try." You told him as he hugged you close to him,

"Tell me everything I've missed? D-Do you have photos?" You nodded at him, slowly taking him through to your bedroom to get the album you'd already started making of your ultrasounds.

A soft glow filled the cosy living room as you and Namjoon sat together on the couch, your laughter mingling with the sound of your son's joyful giggles. It had been a year since that fateful night when Namjoon had shown up on your doorstep, and in that time, your lives had changed in ways you could have never imagined.

Your son toddled around the room with boundless energy, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as he chased after his favourite toy. Namjoon watched him with a smile, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of his little boy.

"Look at him go, babe. He's getting so big." He said with a giant grin on his face, you smiled as you stared at him, your eyes shining with love as she reached out to ruffle his hair.

"He's growing up so fast. I can't believe he's already a year old." You whined, you hated that it was going too quickly. You wanted him to stay young forever. 

"I'm so grateful for you, Yn. For him. For everything." Namjoon said as he kissed your head softly. Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, your eyes shining with unshed tears as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

"And I'm grateful for you, Namjoon. For giving us a second chance, for never giving up on us." Your voice shook a little and he kissed you softly.

In that moment, as you sat together in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that they had found something truly special—a love that had weathered the storms of doubt and uncertainty, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before.

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[venus-haze]

Dawn Patrol (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: You never thought you’d see him again. Your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime-fighting, the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It seems like the universe is giving you a second chance when you end up in this place with Homelander. Except, this one isn't quite like the man you remember, but he's not letting that stop him.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also a different take on the “love of your life died and came back but something's wrong” horror trope. Title comes from the Megadeth song (which is about living in a dystopia). Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship. Intense feelings of loss, confusion, and self-doubt on the reader’s part. Some elements of unreality? Homelander is extremely manipulative, possessive, and gaslights the hell out of the reader in this, but no physical harm is done. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The man standing in front of you wasn’t John, not your John, at least. He acted strange whenever you called him that. Homelander felt so impersonal, though, a title and persona rather than the man you loved your whole life. You silently scolded yourself. You shouldn’t complain so much, not when he believed you, against all reason, despite never having met you before in this version of reality. If it were even real. 

You had crumbled the first time you saw him. Weeks of being locked in a lab, poked and prodded and tested before he entered with an unfamiliar coldness. It had to have been a cruel trick, these people using your greatest vulnerability against you. John had been presumed dead for years. The ache that consumed you at his loss made it hard to even breathe sometimes, and you’d spent countless nights alone in your formerly shared bed, wracked by guilt for not doing more as you silently implored the universe to give you one more chance. You should have known it’d come with plenty of strings attached.

His name echoed through the room in a desperate howl. You strained against the titanium cuff you were chained to, and he froze upon hearing one of the links break. Rabid, desperate, tears streamed down your face in your delirium. You needed to touch him, to feel for yourself that it wasn’t your brain tricking you again. It has to be real this time.

His breath hitched as he approached you, the way animal control does a feral dog–cautious and gentle, but still regarding you with a level of distrust. Your struggle subsided with each step he took, until he was finally in arms’ reach. Looking into his blue eyes for the first time in years, your hand trembled as you lifted it to caress his cheek. Soft and warm like you’d remembered. 

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m your–Gemini,” you said. “‘Cause I can–”

“Make duplicates of yourself, they told me. Who are you?”

“Not here, but somewhere else, I'm your partner in, well, everything. We grew up across the street from each other,” you told him. “Your powers showed up sooner than mine, but your mom always said we were a package deal, so when we started fighting crime together, it just made sense that we’d fall in love too.”

“My mom?” he whispered.

“She was the one who came up with the name Gemini for me.”

His gaze softened, his eyes turning cloudy. You recognized that look. Deep in thought, a million miles away, the only place John wouldn’t take you. This one didn’t seem eager to do so either. Did he and his mom not get along here? Was she dead, even? 

He cleared his throat. “Go on.”

“We called ourselves Dawn Patrol because we’d get up before school to do our superhero stuff, and it stuck.”

“How did you end up here, then?”

“I already told them–”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You recoiled a bit. Your story began at the end, and while you managed to tell it to a group of seemingly indifferent white coats, recounting it to the man himself, or some version of him, was almost too much to bear. Still, you pushed through.

Phantom, that’s what he called himself, selfish and conniving with the ability to teleport in the shadows and seemingly shift reality itself. He was a particular menace that you and Homelander could never quite get the upper hand on, the situation imploding when Homelander, your Homelander, tackled the supervillain mid-teleport. The last thing you saw of him was his back as he disappeared with Phantom. 

No one had seen him since. Despite Phantom’s insistence that he didn’t know what happened to Homelander, you kept an irrational, unrelenting grudge against him for taking the love of your life away from you. Guilt and rage fueled you, and in your most recent, and presumably last encounter with your arch-nemesis, you made the same mistake Homelander did, and ended up wherever the hell you were.

“Either you’re telling the truth, or you’re an unprecedented liar,” he hissed through his teeth, grabbing your wrists, “but I believe you.”

A beastial imitation of your first and only love transformed before your eyes over the following weeks. In his absence, your yearning had grown teeth, long and sharp, hungry to tear through flesh and for your flesh to be torn. This new man’s rib cage cracked open to offer part of himself to recreate you. You looked into the crimson void and saw his beating heart, a long-suffering shrine to you as yours was to his, or at least some memory of him. A loneliness you were all too familiar with was already settled deep within him. Why needlessly suffer though a monastic existence any longer?

You, in turn, indulged in him. Allowed your hunger to overtake you and break your involuntary fast as you devoured him. Insatiable, your lips pressed against the skin of this stranger that nevertheless you knew by heart. In your grief, in your anger, you’d pulled him out from the ether. You wondered if you could put him back together as the man you knew he could be, bloody your hands raw clawing back the damage that had been done to him by whoever came before you. 

The first few days, you tried as much, the two of you hardly letting up from your entanglement in his bed. You stared at the mirror on the ceiling, taking him in with the attentiveness of the crowds that gathered around the tragically small Mona Lisa in the Louvre. Then, in the quiet moments, in tones hardly above hushed whispered, he’d ask you questions about this other life and upbringing he never got to experience, pensive at your answers, almost bothered at times. 

Most of his questions seemed to be about his parents, especially his mother. Though your phone had been returned to you, it had no signal, but you were able to show him photos. Some of the last ones of you and John together was at a Fourth of July party in his parents’ backyard. One of his aunts had taken a candid photo of you, John and his parents sitting together at one of the patio tables, smiling and laughing. You had everything documented, from weddings to birthday parties to school days. John always poked fun at you for taking the phrase “take a picture, it’ll last longer” so seriously. 

Now, reflecting on these times with his other, you clung to him as you watched him swipe through this other version of himself’s life. Studying it, silently reflecting on your stories and anecdotes as if to memorize them, be able to recite them by heart.

Despite the distorted period of reunited bliss, you could tell something was off about Homelander. He talked his way around your questions about his own upbringing, never quite giving you a straight answer and occasionally snapping at you when you pressed for more details. Your eyes widened the first time he did so, heart skipping a beat or two, you couldn’t recall John raising his voice at you like that before. Homelander noticed your reaction right away, soothing you with reassurances that he wasn’t mad at you, he could never be.

It seemed like he was mad at a lot of other people, though. He’d go on long rants about people at Vought, this corporation that didn’t exist where you were from but somehow controlled so much of his life and that of every other superhero. Walking around the tower with him, you noticed the way people’s demeanors shifted when he was there, a nervous submission he seemed to bask in but made your stomach feel sour. 

His attempts not to scare you, to put you at ease with the prospect of spending the rest of your life with him were never quite as successful as he hoped. The warning voice in your brain knew something was off about him. You ignored it as best you could, figuring you could manage a way to handle him and chalking it up to the loneliness he was entrenched in before you came along. One night, a rarity wherein you were alone in his suite and finally had a chance to think the situation through, you panicked, hatching a messy escape plan.

Leaving a duplicate of yourself behind in the living room, you slipped out of the suite, walking down the long hallway to the elevator. The tower was so tall that it required switching elevators to get from the top floor to the lobby, and so you made the initial descent to the 50th floor.

The ride down was excruciatingly long, and every time the elevator stopped to let someone in, you felt yourself freeze up. No one acknowledged you at any point during the descent, filtering in and out, minding their own business. 

When you switched elevators, you knew you were in the home stretch. Your heart raced as you pressed the ‘L’ for the lobby, the star next to the button assuring you that the ground floor would be your ticket out of there. By the time you were on the single-digit floors, you were alone again.

At least, you were until you reached the lobby. The doors opened, revealing Homelander waiting for you behind them. You backed into the wall on the opposite side of the steel box, as if that’d do anything to protect you.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And where do you think you’re going?”

He entered the elevator, reaching over to press the button back up to the 50th floor. Silence for nearly twenty floors, though you were sure the sound of your rapidly beating heart was deafening to him.

Finally, you spoke. “How did you know?”

“Your duplicate’s pretty convincing, but they don’t have a heartbeat,” he said. 

John had never told you that. Your duplicates were perfect copies of you, your abnormal physical strength sapped to create each one so that they could take damage from attacks in your place. It never occurred to you that they were so blatantly lifeless.

The doors opened on the 50th floor, and instead of going in the next one over to continue the ascent, Homelander pulled you into an empty office. He closed the door, darkness engulfing the room. When you reached for a light switch, he caught your wrist in his hand instead.

“If you have a problem, you talk to me about it. You do not try to fake me out and run,” he hissed. “Do you really think the fucking white coats I saved you from would just let you walk out of here? You’d end up right back in that room. All of those things that he had, the loving parents, the pretty suburban life with your childhood sweetheart that's straight out of a fucking romcom? I didn't get that because of them."

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "You didn't deserve that."

"No," he said, almost shocked at your acknowledgement of how horrific his upbringing was. "I didn't. You're here, now, though, so we're both getting what we want."

Not like this. Not you.

Yet, you were stuck with the hand you had been dealt. This corrupted imitation of the man you loved, who nevertheless was so desperate for the intense emotions you felt for him otherwise that he was willing to believe you despite all logic telling him otherwise. 

The way he spoke about the people back in the lab you’d been held in, as if he knew, experienced what you did and even worse. Saved you from it. Maybe you could try. Maybe that could get you somewhere.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Being around him rendered you emotionally vulnerable. He looked just like him, and at times acted almost exactly the same. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could convince yourself it was him. How long could you go on doing that before you walked around blindly?

“Babe, did you hear a word I just said?” Homelander asked.

You looked up at him. “Got distracted, sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, the slightest smile on his face. “I’ll chalk it up to my good looks. I know you’ve been cooped up for a while, so I want you to do a team-up with me tomorrow night. It’ll be Dawn Patrol, just like old times.”

Old times? There were no old times. Not with him. 

Nevertheless, you agreed. “Yeah, it’d be nice to get back out there. Haven’t done it in a while.”

“Once you’re back at it, you won’t even have to think about it, like riding a bike,” he paused for a moment, “I guess.”

His excitement the following day was infectious. You hadn’t done any crime-fighting in a long time, and doing so with him would surely help you ease into it again. He was always the best of the best, but it seemed like here, not only was he deified, but he reveled in it.

When he brought you to his superhero team’s private gym to train, he was almost shocked at how well your powers and fighting style seemed to compliment him. Elation filled your chest. Maybe you’d jumped to conclusions too soon about him. You just had to be more flexible, willing to compromise to make it work. 

You were thrown off upon being presented with a crime-fighting schedule that night. A self-professed crime analytics team explained their methodology to you. When you looked to Homelander in disbelief, he seemed unfazed by the information. Being able to predict crime down to the minute just to bolster careers and social media followings seemed far from ethical, but from what little you’d learned of Vought in the weeks you’d been there, that wasn’t a concern of theirs.

Flying with him again was almost too overwhelming, bringing back memories of you and John in your teenage years. Instead of partying with your peers, the two of you would pick up fast food late on Saturday nights, sitting on suburban rooftops with your police scanner, eating burgers and listening for trouble. He’d grab you by the waist, flying off with you to stop some bad guys. Of course, people complained to your parents that you’d leave chicken nugget boxes and ketchup packets on their roofs in your haste. 

By the time Homelander landed in an alley just a block away from where the crime would supposedly take place, you were crying. 

“You okay? I thought you’d be used to it.”

“I am. It’s just been a while. Brought back a lot of memories.”

He smiled, kissing your forehead. “You won’t have to go so long without flying with me again. I promise, babe.”

You sniffled, giving him a weak smile. “Let’s go get some bad guys.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The next few minutes were silent as Homelander listened for the sound of a bank alarm. Late-night robbery, the crime analytics team had told you, it couldn’t be easier. You weren’t sure what time it was when Homelander grabbed you, the familiar gesture of his arm around your waist making you feel overwhelmed again. 

When he landed, you could see the glass doors leading into the bank had been smashed, leaving shards of glass scattered on the sidewalk that crunched beneath your boots. There’d be three bank robbers, one lookout while the other two took what they could from the vault. You and Homelander already agreed that you’d take on the lookout and then join him in subduing the others.

You hesitated for a moment when you and Homelander split up, but you didn’t let it distract you too much. The lookout froze upon seeing you duplicate, his hand shaking as he pointed the gun between you and your temporary clone. Whichever one he shot, you’d heal fast enough, though you’d get less damage if he shot the duplicate rather than you.

His impulsiveness proved to be his downfall, as your duplicate began to walk toward him, and he pulled the trigger, nearly passing out when the clone de-materialized before him. 

In his moment of distraction, you knocked the gun from his hand, grabbing a nearby desk phone and hitting him in the temple with it. You kicked the gun to the other side of the room before he could reach for it and hit him in the head again. He dropped to the ground, unmoving on the floor.

You set off to find Homelander. The vault was empty when you got there, a mess of valuable and still smoldering scorch marks in the wall where either the thieves had used explosives to break their way in, or Homelander had lasered them into oblivion. Regardless, there was no sign of anyone.

“Homelander?” you called out. 

No response. You looked around frantically for any sign of him.

You couldn’t lose him again, not even this terrifying version of him. ���Homelander, where did you go?”

Silence again. Your pounding heart rang in your ears as you turned around, setting off for another part of the building in hopes of finding him. There wasn’t anyone else you could count on here, and for all his faults, he was the only person you trusted. 

Just when it felt hopeless and your brain was about to implode on itself at the sinking notion that maybe he was gone, a loud bang came from the other side of the bank where the vault was. You rushed over without a second thought for your own safety. Besides, the injury your duplicate had taken on your behalf was already healing. You'd do it a thousand times over if it meant keeping him safe.

Homelander stood in the middle of the previously empty vault, the two thieves knocked out, or maybe they were dead. It didn’t matter, because he clearly wasn’t.

“Where were you?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“No you haven’t. I came over here and there was no one. I called out for you and—“

“And what?”

“I wanna go home,” you cried, clinging to him. “Please, let’s just go home.”

He nodded, his superhuman strength allowing him to scoop you up in his arms with ease. You always felt safe in them, and you pressed your head to his chest, trying to focus on the sound of his heartbeat as he flew back to his suite at the tower.

His heart always beat faster than anyone else’s, having to maintain the life of the most powerful superhero to ever live. It was a heavy burden, though you tried your best to offset it, you sometimes felt too reliant on him. He never made you feel bad for it, neither version of him did.

You were still a bit dazed when he landed, shuffling into his living room and leaning against the back of the couch. He said he had been in the vault, but you knew it had been empty when you walked over to it. You knew what you saw.

“You did great with the lookout. I can help you train more, and we’ll try again in a few days,” he said. “I’ll get the crime analytics team to find us another softball one.”

“Homelander,” you began tentatively, “back there did you–did you do that on purpose? Disappear on me?”

“Of course not, darling, why would I do something like that after everything you've been through?” he asked, his voice soft enough that if you let yourself, you could pretend for a few moments he was your Homelander. “I told you, I was in the vault the whole time.”

“I can’t lose you again,” you said, your voice cracking. “I can’t—“

“You won’t. I’ve always been here. I love you.”

He’s lying, the voice in your head screamed, he’s not your John. There’s something wrong. 

You ignored it, choosing instead to kiss him, to drown out the rational with the feeling of your lover’s lips again. You would take this Homelander over none at all. “I love you too.”

[soleminisanction]

Putting together that list for the death of Superman introduced me to something I'd never heard of before, and now I need to do a write-up about it because it's just so 90s it makes me smile.

Picture this: it's 1993. Over in Japan, Sailor Moon has spent a little over a year rocketing up the charts as a full blown cultural phenomenon that won't slow down any time soon, and western companies want in. Only one company's going to score the license, however, and their first attempt at a localized adaptation (not a dub) was still a year away.

So what's everyone else to do? Make their own pretty fighting princess cartoons to merchandise, of course. And Mattel's first plan was to rope in DC Comics, since they already had the perfect superhero princess on hand.

Not Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld -- who, honestly, would've been an amazing fit for this in retrospect -- no no. Their plan: turn Wonder Woman into Sailor Moon.

Thus: Wonder Woman and the Star Riders.

I love how you can tell those designs were made for dolls because, just like the original She-Ra, they're about 50% hair.

Two of the other characters in this line-up are also adaptations of DC superheroines: Ice (in white/pink) and Dolphin (in blue) respectively. The other two characters, Solara (in yellow) and Star Lily (the token Black) were created for the series, though apparently Star Lily would go on to inspire a kid from the WW Rebirth comics named Star Blossom, so that's cute.

There was supposed to be a line of toys and a cartoon for this franchise, but the only thing that was ever completed was this one little 14-page comic released through a cross-promotion with Kellogg's Cinnamon Mini Buns cereal.

NGL, I find the silly little thing deeply amusing because it's just. So 90s, and so obviously written to sell toys. Like how it's set mostly in this "magical palace" mostly made up of big open rooms with like, one piece of furniture each (so you can more easily move to dolls around). Or how despite being called "the Star Riders" there's exactly two differently-colored pegasus-unicorns, one pink for Wonder Woman and one white for Dolphin, because they're presumably the most expensive dolls and parents will only be willing to spend so much money.

The villain, Purrisa, feels like they came at her from the angle of Magical Girl Catwoman. She gets to ride on a flying cowardly panther and wants to steal the heroines' magical macguffin gems because that's what the plot tended to be in these early 90s Sailor Moon rip-offs (including Sabon Moon, come to think of it).

It's interesting to see this rough approximation of early 90s girly comic art try to replicate the signature sparkles & laser beams style fighting of a magic girl battle show though.

And of course they give Diana a magic wand with a star on it. At least, I think that's what that is? The bottom kinda looks like an umbrella. Maybe she's supposed to be throwing something.

She still has the lasso. I mostly want to share this page because it's the best shots we get of Sailor Diana with the massive cape and even more massive hair. Not to mention the pink bracelets and Star Sapphire belt.

NGL, I kinda wish they would've made that doll.

So yeah, that's Wonder Woman and the Star Riders: goofy, fluffy, never got off the ground, with its toy designs mostly repurposed into something called Tenko and the Guardians of Magic. But still I think a very entertaining little time capsule.

[huckleberrykai]

choi yeonjun ~ found

part 2 to lost ! pairing: yeonjun x mom!reader summary: after that day in the park, yeonjun decides he wants to keep you both around for a long time. genre: fluffy af warnings: mentions of absent fathers, children, stepdad!yeonjun notes: i deffo went overboard i just,, love yeonjun ok ~ also ty to @yxnjvnnie for suggesting i write a part two, i wasn't going to but i had so much fun writing this so thank u 🥹 word count: 2.2k click here for my masterlist!

yeonjun was so glad he went to the park that day, because if he hadn't he never would have found the best thing that ever happened to him.

he did take you and daisy to the park the next day, and you felt your heart swell as you watched them play together. your daughter usually hated new people, but the smile on her face as yeonjun lifted her up and ran around with her suggested otherwise.

when you went out to dinner later that night after dropping your daughter off to stay at your parent's house, you and yeonjun learned a lot about each other. you learned that he was an idol, and an amazing one at that. he learned that you had daisy when you were young, and her father had fled the moment you told him you were pregnant.

you stayed in the restaurant until you were kicked out for closing, and even then you sat in his car for another hour before even driving home. he couldn't believe similar you were despite being so different. you both had big dreams, hard struggles and a lot of love to give - even when it wasn't always returned.

he loved that although he told you about his group, you didn't freak out. with you he wasn't a celebrity - he was just yeonjun.

he felt it was almost cliche ~ like an angel was sent into his life to help him - and who he wanted to help in return.

so he asked you on another date before you even got home.

yeonjun found himself thinking about you all the time. in his lunch breaks, he'd be texting you, on his off days he'd be taking you on a date, or daisy to a park, any moment he had he filled with you two - and after about a month, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

it was sweet how he did it too - you had invited him over to your apartment for the first time since you'd promised to cook for him one day, and so after a gruelling day of schedules you suggested he come over for a warm home-cooked meal. when he arrived you gave him a big hug to comfort him, but not as big as the one daisy gave him. he lifted her into his arms and rested her on his hip and you ushered him into the living room to relax while you cooked.

your apartment was small, but it was the closest to home yeonjun had ever felt. there were pictures of you and daisy on the wall, some other family members too he presumed. he laughed a little at the big sailor moon poster you had behind the couch, remembering you gushing to him about how happy you were that daisy loved your favourite cartoon as much as you did.

everything in your house made him feel warm inside.

he looked down at daisy who had snuggled into his side holding a my little pony she wanted to show him, then he looked at you with heart eyes when you came back into the room and handed him a drink of water. that's when he knew he needed to stay in this safe haven of warmth for as long as you'd let him.

when you went back into the kitchen to finish cooking, he talked to daisy a little bit about her horse. "daisy?"

her big E/C, just like yours, looked back at him as she tilted her head, plopping the pony down in her lap. "yeah junjujn?"

"how would you feel if i asked your mommy to be my girlfriend? you know, like the prince asking cinderella to be his? or sailor moon and tuxedo mask?"

she crinkled her face in disgust for a second, but then her features softened. "mommy is a princess." yeonjun nodded, agreeing with her. "mommy talks about you a lot, so she would like it. i think." he nodded again, his heart quickening. "but would you be okay with it?" he asked.

she hummed, playing with the horse in her hands. she seemed to make her mind up when she nodded harshly "mommy gets sad sometimes, but when you're here she smiles. i like seeing her smile!" she giggled. "if you're mommy's prince will you promise to look after her?" she asked seriously.

"i pinky promise," he held out his finger to the tiny girl in front of him. "okay!" she linked her fingers through his.

once you had eaten and laid daisy down for bed - after she insisted junjun read her a bedtime story - the two of you sat in the living room. he held you close to him while you watched some mindless television.

"so... i asked daisy something earlier." he broke the comfortable silence and stopped running his hand through your hair - much to your dismay. "oh? what was it?"

"she said she'd be okay with it if i was to ask you to be my girlfriend. as long as i take care of you, since you're a princess after all." he chuckled a little. your eyes shot open as you lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him. "h-huh?"

"obviously you don't have to say yes, but i wanted her permission before i asked you. i want to be here for you for as long as you'll let me," he confessed honestly. "i know we haven't been in each other's lives for a long time but i really like you. seeing you and daisy is what gets me through each day." if you weren't already melting into a puddle at his compliments of your cooking earlier and his sweet affectionate cuddles, boy you sure were now.

"won't it interfere with your idol life?" as much as you wanted to say yes, the logistics of dating a famous person weren't exactly in your favour - especially since you had your baby to protect. he sighed, "i'm not saying it'll be easy, but i really do want to try. i'll call you whenever i'm away i swear," he argued. "and as much as i'd love to tell the world you're mine i can keep a secret." he smiled.

you could tell he wanted this as much as you did. i mean, obviously he did if he's asking for your daughter's permission. "okay."

and so that was the beginning.

he never told his members - not for the first few months anyway - but when he was out of the room and his phone started ringing, soobin went to see who it was.

"who's Y/N?"

"huh? who?" beomgyu asked, walking over to investigate his phone.

incoming call: Y/N 💗

beomgyu answered the phone without thinking, his hyung wouldn't mind right? "hello?" he asked. "oh, hi? who is this?" you asked. "uh i'm beomgyu, who are YOU?"

you panicked, recognising his name as one of yeonjun's members. you didn't know what he'd told them or not - but you opted to be honest.

"i'm yeonjun's girlfriend, i'm not sure if he's told you about me." you confessed. "it's um... nice to meet you?" you said more like a question than an answer.

poor gyu was dumbfounded.

"yeonjun hyung has a girlfriend?!?" he looked around the room. kai's eyes widened, soobin looked especially confused. he put the phone on speaker. "when did you start dating??" he asked into the phone frantically. "uh... around three months ago now? we met more like four months ago though." you concluded.

"he's been hiding her for FOUR MONTHS??" taehyun asked. "ah... i see he hasn't told you about me. um, can you just tell him i called? thanks ~" you went to hang up. "WAIT WAIT WAIT" it was beomgyu again.

"he's coming back now, ill pass you over."

all eyes were on yeonjun who had now re-entered the room looking like a deer in the headlights.

"here, it's your girlfriend." beomgyu smirked and everyone watched him and he took the phone off speaker.

"hey Y-" "you didn't tell them?!?" he sighed. "i wanted to make sure you were okay with it before i did, i'm sorry."

"i'm not mad, you don't need to be sorry." you let out a chuckle. "why did beomgyu answer the phone and not you anyway?" you asked. "yeah i wonder why BEOMGYU answered MY phone too," he said dramatically.

beomgyu just laughed with a shrug, "so when do we get to meet her?"

a few weeks later you were cooking again, but this time for the horde of boys that were about to tumble through your front door.

you were a huge part of yeonjun's life, and so were his members - so he finally thought it was time for you to meet officially. it probably would have been sooner if he hadn't just finished comeback season and had barely had any time to spare ~ but better late than never!

the day of the phone call, after you left, he explained to his friends about how you met and why he wanted to keep everything on the down low - he wanted to protect you and daisy.

he was worried his friends would judge him for dating someone who already had a child - that they'd think of him as irresponsible and unable to provide care for her, but their reactions were quite the opposite.

"she's so cute!!" kai chimed when he showed them a photo of you and daisy that he had taken. "and Y/N is gorgeous... how the hell did you manage to get HER?" beomgyu added, earning a swift slap to the back of his head. the boys sat and scrolled through his camera roll, giggling like schoolboys at the cute pictures of daisy - ones with you, ones with her sitting on his shoulders that you had taken, even selfies she'd taken when she stole his phone, copying all his aegyo poses that he'd taught her.

when the knock on the door came, you hurried to pull the food you had made out of the oven and run to the door, brushing your messy hair out of your eyes.

when the door swung open, yeonjun's eyes widened. there you were in your pretty apron with that smile on your face that he loved so much. daisy ran to cling to your leg and wave to him. the picture of domesticity.

if in the future he could come home to this every day, he'd die a happy man.

"come in come in! welcome! nice to meet you, sorry about the mess - daisy found the key to the toy box again."

the boys greeted you warmly, they were much taller than you expected. "please sit anywhere you like! dinner will be done in about 5 minutes!" you chimed. "daisy take care of our guests while i go finish up okay?" you asked the smaller girl with a ruffle of her hair.

daisy was nervous - and yeonjun finally understood what you meant when you said she wasn't good with new people. he slowly introduced her to each member, and gave all of them a little handshake.

"hi! i'm uncle beomgyu! your hair bows are very pretty!" he held out his hand to the little girl. she held it hesitantly, looking up at him with her big glassy eyes. "thank- thank you b-bom? goo?"

you hadn't exactly had the whole stepdad talk with yeonjun yet, so he didn't know exactly where he stood, but hearing his members call your his baby their niece made his heart swell - and, unbeknownst to him, yours too. you overheard daisy call soobin uncle sooby and you felt your future flash before your eyes.

you wanted to be as close with them as yeonjun was, and you always wanted daisy to have uncles since you were an only child, and had no siblings to provide her with that.

dinner went smoothly - if you don't count daisy accidentally throwing a spoonful of peas at taehyun, who threw one back playfully.

you cleaned up while hyuka and soobin helped tuck daisy into bed and read her a story. while doing the dishes, you felt a pair of arms sneak around your waist and a kiss be pressed to your cheek ~ "hey baby."

you put your last plate on the drying rack and dried your hands on a towel, turning around in your handsome boyfriend's arms. "hi."

your breath was shaky at the proximity, and the smile on his face made your knees weak. he was so in love. "daisy's new uncles love her huh?" you asked smugly. "i'm sorry, they started calling themselves that and daisy picked up on it. i'm not even sure where i stand on the whole... you know."

you gave him a soft nod, and looked over to daisy's bedroom door. you could hear the chatters of the boys telling your baby funny and fantastical stories. "it's okay. i think we're gonna be good friends."

"and yeonjun?" he hummed, rubbing soft circles into your hips. "i love you, and i'd love for you to be her stepdad. if you want to of course! no pressure..."

his smile only grew when you said that, pressing a little kiss to your cheek.

he was determined to protect his perfect little family forever <3

[ownedbythescribe]

Wanderer/Scaramouche | De Novo

ıllı Synopsis: Can broken hearts be mended? If a chance shows itself in front of you, will it be all right to take it and hold your hand once again?

ıllı Genre: Angst, Comfort, Modern AU

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı Warnings: Cursing, Drinking, Depression

ıllı A/N: This story had been sitting rent free in my mind for days, and I finally had the courage to write it! I can’t believe it took me so long because I don’t want to feel the paint, but please enjoy! (P.S. I’m spoiling this guy along with Kaveh)

Scaramouche had never felt so empty and numb. Not even when his mother neglected him nor when he lost two of his childhood friends to accidents. No, he was as hollow as a dead twig the moment you two broke up because of his arrogance, insensitivity, and obduracy.

Everything returned to how it was before he became yours. It was mundane, boring, and tiring. When his electrifying gaze bore at the outside world, it was black and white. Too monotone for his liking. It was as if you took away with you the colors that allowed him to see the beauty of his surroundings.

‘…Why am I like this?’ He exhausted, mindlessly writing the professor’s words in his notebook. He felt like a puppet. Somebody subjected to the musings of the world, one they could toy with and throw away afterward. He lost his own will.

The change in Scaramouche’s mood did not go unnoticed by his blockmates. In fact, those who knew his temper strayed away from his path, not bothering to interact with the man. He did not mind. Not one bit, but he missed you. So much that he felt like dying.

When lunch came, Tartaglia and Aether came to his classroom and inquired about their friend. Kindly enough, two of his classmates told him that Scaramouche already left. Presumably somewhere quiet to eat. The two glanced at each other in worry. The moment they noticed the sullen shift in their friend’s mood, they immediately asked what happened. The reply they got was that you two broke up because of him. He said words he did not mean to and would not be able to take them back due to his reasoning. That he deserved it after the pain you endured just to keep your relationship afloat.

“Hey, Aether. How is (Y/N) doing anyway? I failed to get their contact details back then, so I have no way to contact them. I doubt they even open the request section of the messenger.” Tartaglia huffed. The blond recalled his conversation with his sister who was your friend. She did not want to disclose anything. Not when she knew how Scaramouche hurt you.

“Oh, man. Scara is the type to mull over things, and if this goes on, who knows what will happen to that guy.” The ginger muttered. Aether could only nod in agreement.

As for Scaramouche, he was at the gardens where you two would eat together. Despite the differences in your schedules, you two made it work out and have a meal together. It might not be always, but the thought of spending time together to energize you before another draining class was enough act of love for him. Right now, he could not sense that happiness and tranquility. It was only the cold wind that accompanied his figure.

‘…I wonder what you’re doing right now. I miss you.’ He thought to himself, lightly brushing the place you would always sit at.

“If I could turn back time, I would take back all that I said. I would say I love you as many times as you want. I would kiss you as many times as I could. I would cherish you for the longest time possible.” He muttered. His hands quivered. The tears he held back threatened to escape his eyes, but he wiped them away again. He did not deserve to cry.

When class ended, he swiftly grabbed his bag and left for your once-shared home. It was just an empty room now, but the comforting scent you carried with you lingered in the air. It was a combination of jasmine, vanilla, and mint. Whenever he felt a panic attack coming or the stress chowing at him, he would shyly ask to be held in your arms. It was endearing that he let you see his vulnerable side, and a smile would bloom on your face the moment he relaxed.

“It feels so cold without you here.”

The following days repeated themselves. Wake up, eat breakfast, go to university, then go home and sleep. It was a nightmarish Samsara he could not escape. It slowly drove him crazy. The walls felt like they were closing on him, and the noise from his blockmates’ chatters was deafening. At one point, he might have lost his mind by drinking bottles of wine to drown his sorrows away. He did not come to class for two days. The moment he came back, he despised the gossip he accidentally heard from Tartaglia and Aether.

“Diluc asked them out!? You mean that rich redhead from Mondstadt who is the heir to Angel’s Share?” Tartaglia gasped. Aether looked at his phone and reread the message he got from his sister, whom you confined about the matter.

“What did they say? They must have agreed considering he’s the richest bachelor in the area. Not to mention, they will be treated well by the man.” The ginger claimed. Although at the back of his mind, he worried about his friend's reaction should he learn of this. Scaramouche lost all feelings and left before he could hear Aether’s reply. He did not want to hear how happy you must have become. What Scaramouche did not know was that you turned down the man.

“What!? They turned him down? Why?” Tartaglia thought that it was such a waste, but the blond knew why. His eyes softened at the text he got from you.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to move on, Ae. Not when I love Scaramouche so much. He’s the only person I’ll ever love, be it now or in another life. - (Y/N)”

Everything was going to be fine.

When Scaramouche returned to class, he did not bother listening to the professor. All that he could feel was bitter loneliness and frustration. The instructor tried to gain his attention but to no avail. His blockmates whispered amongst each other about what could have set his bad mood, but eventually left him to his own devices. The man was smart enough to pass the subject, and hearsays did not bother him. Nothing but you could bother him.

After another weary day, Scaramouche did not go home early. He swiftly made his way to a convenience store and buy cans of beer. It was time to drown his feelings away and just feel happy. Even if it was imaginary.

Scaramouche went to the park he spent his last moment with you and sat on the bench facing the playground. He vividly remembered the day you two broke up. It was your anniversary, and you wanted to spend time with him stargazing, a hobby you developed to ease your stress. However, it was also that time when he heard from his mother. Her assistant, Yae Miko, contacted him and wished for the man to change university and course. They wanted him to be their puppet and succeed in the family business. He declined, but he was threatened that they would stop funding his schooling. Anger bubbled through his stomach, and your carefree attitude blew him off. He ended up shouting his frustrations at you.

“You will never understand the pain I endured! I really can’t stand the likes of you.” He seethed.

“…So, this is really it? I-I see. Then… thank you, and I’m sorry for everything.” You mumbled, leaving him in the dark to his thoughts. By the time he regained his senses, you were gone. He could not contact you nor did he ever see you. You avoided him at all cost. Eventually, he gave up and wallowed in his self-pity.

Returning to the present, Scaramouche grabbed one can and drank it without stopping. One after another, he emptied the beers and muttered curses about his arrogance and stupidity. He babbled about how he hated his assurance that you would not leave him despite keeping you at arm’s length. He disliked that he could embrace your kindness, and now that you were gone, he longed for it. He despised himself for being a coward, for not telling you that he was afraid to love because he might hurt you as he did to his friends.

“L-Look at where it got you, idiot? Isolated. Alone. Cold. And they’re not coming back. Ha…Hahaha! Stupid! Stupid! You stupid coward.” He cried. One lone tear trickled down his cheek, then another, and another. He was a sobbing mess by the time he was done. The night sky twinkled above him, and it felt like they were mocking his misery.

“I just miss them. Please return them to me.” He begged pitifully.

Suddenly, light footsteps could be heard from behind. His upset gaze met your fatigued ones. Time seemed to have stopped for a moment. His breath hitched as he tried to discern if he was simply dreaming or not. He lightly laughed and muttered that there was no way you would be here.

“I’m finally going crazy, huh? Hahaha. How low of me.” You heard. Carefully, you walked towards him and held his hands. With a wry smile, you wiped his tears with your handkerchief.

“This is the first time I saw you drink and break down like this. Come on. Let’s get you home.” You urged, ready to pull him up. Scaramouche, who was stunned, quickly clutched the sides of your clothes and shook his head.

“I don’t… I don’t want to go home without you, (Y/N). I don’t want to remember that cold room. Please let me stay where you are. I—“ He implored, his throat closing up at the fear of going home without you, of finally letting go. He could not—did not want that.

Realization dawned on you, so in a comforting tone, you crouched down and held his quivering figure. You caressed his lavender tresses carefully until he calmed down. And when he did, you pulled from his embrace and cupped his cheeks. He wanted to cry again and just remain in your arms, but there were important things he needed to say.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I did not mean anything. I… I love you so much, so please. Please don’t leave me.” He was crying again, and you were about to as well. Your breakup did not bode well for you, and every day felt like torture without him. Suffocating even. You understood that he might be harsh on the side, but he also had his tender moments.

“If… If we return to how we were back then, will things be different? Will you still keep me at arm’s length?” You inquired with a tint of loneliness. Scaramouche stared at you and shook his head no. He realized his mistake and would like to start again.

“I want to… show you all of me. If you will let me.” He mumbled. Happy with his response, you wiped the rest of his tears and embraced him.

“Then let’s go home. I’ll cook your favorite. Plus, you need to take a bath. You reek!” You teased. He huffed indignantly but returned the loving gesture.

“Let’s stay like this for a while, please.” You lightly chuckled at the request but did not let go. It had been so long without him by your side. This was the reassurance you needed to secure that you made the right decision.

“Of course. I missed you too.”

BONUS:

“Hey, I heard some guy named Diluc asked you out on a date. I— You’re not going anymore, right?” Scaramouche mumbled against your neck. He looked like a cat nuzzling his master for food from your point of view, making you lightly chuckle.

“I already turned him down. He was a cool guy and did not make a fuss about it. Don’t worry, I’m all yours, Scara.” You responded, squeezing his hand. He smiled and nearly dozed off from relief.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[darkonekrisrewrite]

The Lov’s bonds with each other are all they have + Dabi Recovery Theories

(Second Side Meta) (Spoiler warning, short meta + theories)

It doesn’t really matter if the Lov inner relationships are unhealthy or if they encourage their worse traits because they don’t have anyone else but each other, even at this current point in the manga.

Excluding Dabi, maybe.

Shigaraki’s family is dead, Toga’s parents were horrible and Spinner’s family was presumably close to the same as he never mentioned them or at least they’re not present in his life.

And while we don’t know much about Compress’s family other than his Grandfather being a “peerless Thief”, the fact that he wound up in the Lov implies that he doesn’t have much, if anything, going for him either.

The individual members of the Lov have nothing to go back to and no one from their pasts that they could depend on in any circumstances.

So the small and pitfall ridden bonds that they share with one another are their only human connection and what connects them to their own humanity.

(I don’t really have any concrete proof that this ^ scene isn’t a manipulation on Dabi’s part but the art framing and overall plot relevance of the scene heavily implies that it isn’t a manipulation but genuine in its sentiment.)

Showing tears for others (Toga), their loyalty to others (Spinner and compress), and that despite everything they’re still themselves (Dabi and hopefully in future coming chapters Shigaraki too).

(Forgot to put this scene in earlier Meta, Spinner loyalty ^ here)

Whether these sentiments and actions have a good result is nearly irrelevant, as the actions and feelings themselves drive the Lov on the only path to survival that is currently available to them while at the same time showing that they do still have many forms of Love inside them.

And the path that they’re currently on is still definitely the only path that could have a chance of them surviving, because the Hero Kids are not where they need to be in the saving department yet.

(This ^ does not inspire confidence.)

Unless it’s made clear that when the hero kids say they intend to stop/save their respective villains, they mean not only from death but also from being locked up to rot in prison forever, and they’re willing to actually fight in anyway that’s needed to make sure that doesn’t happen, the hero kid’s intentions don’t mean anything.

Because obviously throwing the Lov in prison isn’t saving them, there’s no way the hero kids can save the villain’s hearts from outside of a metal box (a key theme of saving in Bnha is saving the Heart).

That’s not even saving the Lov’s lives either really, because that’s just another form of killing them slowly and depending on perspective, with even more cruelty.

Dabi is both different and similar, as he does still have his family that does care about him but his future with them is still very uncertain.

They all came together to save Touya and each other which is good but Natsuo then saying that things will be “Hell” from now on, whatever that means, leaves Dabi’s fate on pretty much one of only two paths.

With Hero Society or with the Todoroki Family.

It can’t be both, because after everything that’s happened and the parts Dabi played in trying to take down the current system, Hero society won’t let him be saved in any way that could really count as saving.

Dabi Recovery Theories

Personally, what I think should happen, if the Todoroki’s are really intending to follow through on saving Touya and making sure that he can make a full(ish) recovery, is fake his death.

Someone as connected/wealthy as Endeavor must have access to private medical facilities, someplace they could stash Touya to keep him alive.

And with some heroes loyal to Endeavor or Shoto, or if they’re capable of exiting the area themselves with the help of the rest of the Todoroki family, take Touya and escape, hiding him there while saying that the villain Dabi fully incinerated himself in the near explosion.

Dabi is dead to the world but Touya can live and heal.

It’s pretty clear from the framing that Touya will live but for how exactly he would survive with his current injuries and fully recover, I have three theories.

The first theory being that with the right medical attention, Dabi could simply survive more or less as is.

A simple thought but plausible, because excluding one of his arms and some outer muscle lost, Dabi’s injuries aren’t so much worse than what he already went through and survived as a child.

As long as his insides aren’t burned up (which they aren’t thanks to the appearance of his dormant Ice Quirk), he should be able to survive with medical attention.

And for making a full recovery (maybe not exactly a ‘Full recovery’ in this case as while they could feasibly replace his lost skin, the burned muscle might be different story) prosthetic limbs are pretty common in Bnha’s world, with even Compress being able to get his hands on a metal arm while on the run with the Lov.

The second theory is using Eri’s rewind Quirk, using medical equipment to ensure Dabi survives long enough for Eri’s horn (her power) to regrow and rewind Dabi to a state before he was so severely burned.

This is another simple solution (personally not a fan of this one) but entirely possible, although the heroes continually using Eri to solve their injuries/problems is a bit sketch (even the heroes admit that), so there is one very interesting theory left I can think of.

The Third theory: The heroes (specifically Endeavor) could try to use the imprisoned Doctor Garaki and the high-end Nomu to save and heal Dabi.

By transferring the high-end Nomu’s regeneration quirk (something all the high-ends have, implying that the power can be replicated and transferred) to Dabi, using the doctor’s knowledge and previous experience of “grafting quirks” onto other beings (the Doctor said he could accomplish this action even without the AFO Quirk).

As for how this scenario would be possible, Endeavor would finally have to step up as a Father instead of as a hero, in fact risking his life/status as a hero.

Either by forcefully taking the Doctor and the Nomu from Prison himself or by leveraging his status as the Number one hero (what’s left of it) to force this plan to happen for Dabi’s sake.

And I personally think that this would be a great ending to Endeavor’s story as a hero, if he truly does regret everything he did.

Endeavor risking or sacrificing everything he personally has left (his hero existence) in the present to help the Son he chose not to show up for in the past, finally putting Touya first to fully save him from the flames.

That seems like good narrative storytelling to me.

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

you mentioned having a modern au with ghostbur and c!tommy that's basically big hero 6... i am very intrigued... do tell me more...

OH MY GOSH MEREDITH HI!!! This ask got buried in my notifs ansgajsgajfsja apologies for the lateness!!

Okay! So! Background info:

Tommy is a kid who’s been bounced around the foster care system for most of his life. He’s used to not staying anywhere for long, and not making close connections with anybody.

That is!!! Until he lands in the home of Phil, a random guy who’s been taking care of foster kids for a while. He’s chill, and nice, and he also understands how hard things can be. Tommy likes him!

Along with getting to know Phil, Tommy also gets to know Wilbur, a former foster kid of Phil’s :) Wilbur is in his early twenties at this point, but he wound up in Phil’s home when he was a teenager—a very, very troubled teenager. Phil and Wilbur are pretty much father & son, but it’s not legal or anything; Wilbur never told Phil he wanted to be adopted, and Phil didn’t want to push it. Eventually, Wilbur aged out of the foster system and moved away, though he still lives nearby and he and Phil see each other often :) Their bond is very very close & special & filled with love.

So anyway, Tommy gets to know Wilbur! They very quickly become close, and a little after that they become unofficial brothers! Wilbur is… the closest thing Tommy’s really ever had to family. He loves him more than anything else. And Wilbur absolutely adores Tommy as well!! He’s got a little brother!! That’s kinda sweet, isn’t it?

Tommy’s ramshackle family isn’t perfect by any means—Wilbur, especially, is clearly dealing with mental health issues but he refuses to talk about any of it—but Tommy thinks it’s the best thing ever anyway. Despite the problems, the three of them really do love and care for each other, and they’re happy together. They are a family, even if not exactly legally considered one.

And then Wilbur dies. He’s killed late one night at his house, by a man with a gun. And then Tommy isn’t sure what’s family anymore.

That’s all the background info! By the time the fic actually begins, things are a lot different—a bad sort of different. Tommy and Phil don’t know what to do with each other, or how to handle losing Wilbur. Tommy quickly becomes distant, refusing to open himself up to his foster dad, and closing himself up in his room. It’s… strange. And bad. And really, really hard. And more than anything, Tommy misses Wilbur. He misses his brother. He misses his best friend. He wants Wilbur back. It wasn’t fair that he died. He shouldn’t have died.

And then, somehow, an even stranger thing happens!

While walking home one day (Tommy’s a teenager in this fic, probably 15 or 16) he comes across… Wilbur? Except it’s not Wilbur. Someone who looks like him, sure, someone who has Wilbur’s face and eyes and smile. But it’s not him.

Ghostbur doesn’t exactly know what he is either. He knows he’s a ghost, presumably the ghost of Wilbur, but he’s about as confused as Tommy is! He doesn’t know why he exists, why he apparently sounds different than Wilbur, why he can float, what his purpose is, or why Tommy is the only person who can see him. It’s all a big mess, pretty much!

And that’s kinda what the whole fic is: Tommy, still grieving his brother, has to find out what the heck to do with Ghostbur, who’s worryingly carefree about the whole situation. They also both get chick-fil-a milkshakes at some point because that’s literally why I came up with this whole AU in the first place, so that Ghostbur could have a milkshake 😭 I 100% came up with this whole entire story just so that Ghostbur could have a milkshake. I promise I am not joking.

I’ve written two chapters so far, but after I realized that I… don’t really know where the story is going/how it’s gonna end, it fizzled out 😅 But I really do like the idea!! And I do want to write more!! It’s really just a matter of me figuring out an actual plot lol

The similarities to Big Hero 6 are kinda funny ajgsjagsjsgajsgjagaha

Younger brother is best friends with older brother

Older brother is killed

Younger brother befriends a being that was created by the older brother (Baymax/Ghostbur)

A parental figure who’s not actually the parent takes/took care of younger brother and older brother (Aunt Cass/Phil)

This is basically a Big Hero 6 AU without the superpowers lol

[icharchivist]

Btw I went back and reread the part in Old Bond where Seofon jumps in, fully ready to end Lu Woh and. That is a very cool scene. And a very cool thing he did

And like you said, Seofon is dropping his mask and letting the guy catch a glimpse of his powers, which is arguably the first time he's so readily done that, which shows not only how serious a threat Lu Woh is, but also how much Seofon cares about the MC. And that he can hold his own against this serious threat, which is great foreshadowing to and you where his other self presumably wrestles the wedges for fun

Anyway, considering that now the Dragons and the Eternals are on somewhat friendly terms with each other, Lu Woh watches everyone treat Seofon like a joke. Seofon, the man with the 5G boundary connection. I imagine Lu Woh is just standing there, sweating bullets. Doesn't he have to assume that the reason everyone brushes Seofon off like that is because they're all on that level of power, if not above it? That he's hanging out with a group of potential God killers?

I like him, but I'm fine with him being a bit scared of them like that. Serves him right <3

YESS YES YES YES.

Like i find the way Seofon drops the mask to be SO interesting considering he didn't even have a mask dropping moment in Seeds of Redemption when Seox was in danger yaknow? like, sure, he was actually working with the Crew of Enforcers then to drive Nehan out, but once Nehan was driven out, Seofon is still his chill self (which is why Tien and Feower especially really almost eviscerated him).

So like, we've seen Seofon seeing his companions being threatened before, but it's really the first time we see him fully drop the mask on that regard.

And like, of course the situations were still different in term of what Seofon saw of each fights and the intentions of the people hurting his friends, but also i think it tells a lot on how he could see Nehan (someone Seox could manage, especially once Seox decides to deal with it on his own), and how he immediately saw Lu Woh as a threat the moment dear Danchou wasn't able to keep up with him.

It says a lot about how much he cares for MC, about how much of a threat he considered Lu Woh, about how seeing MC collapse was both an indication of something going wrong and that Lu Woh was just this much of a threat--

But it's such a good moment to really see Seofon being serious, and you're so right, works as a perfect foreshadowing once we see Sieten't battle wedges for fun. Like of course he has this type of power.

as for that last observation i LOVE it. Having to see Seofon put on the charade again and no one brings it up is either means no one knows just how dangerous Seofon is and now they're all clowning him over his tummy hurting :( which is bewildering, or they're all on the same level enough to neglect him, which is even worse.

and meanwhile none of the others dragons really know how deeply scary Seofon can be (because like, there also was a private moment between Lu Woh and Seofon just after the battle, because Lu Woh tried to sneak in to heal MC and Seofon was being a watchdog and threatened him). So it's such an eerie place to be.

Lu Woh deserves to be a bit scared, i think it's also kinda the point of Old Bonds. Old Bonds was all about how the dragons, being the wedges holding the world together, couldn't trust the skydwellers, mortals with soft bodies, with the responsibility and power that came with Bahamut's legacy inside of the Red Dragon.

Seofon scaring Lu Woh is one of the major way for it to happen. Because as Lucio realized in 000, the reason Skydwellers will always win despite being mortals and fragiles, is because once they band together and fight for one another, nothing can stop them.

Lu Woh was only testing the Singularity. He didn't care about the others lives around them. And he learnt the hard way that not only he can't underestimate the individuals on the crew as individuals, but that in their desires to protect one another they would call for greater powers than they would let anyone see in other circumstances.

Lu Woh was taught the exact lesson Lucio had to learn as well. Thank you Seofon for delivering it.

[multimagicbabe]

left behind (snippet of part two)

This is only a snippet of the second part. I am incredibly sorry for the amount of time I’ve been gone. Life has been hectic and each time I attempted to write, it was cut short. This snippet cuts off a little abruptly but fear not, I will be uploading the finished product later this week. 

As always, the gif below is not mine and belongs to the creator.

The gloomy, gray, and red sky matched the undertone of your dread, uneasiness settling into the pit of your stomach, causing the discomfort of a nauseated belly to bloom. Despite the closeness of the spring, nature coming back to life, and snow melting away, Hawkins was entirely different from the world. It was a never-changing season of ashes falling, grass and trees withering away, dark and red clouds looming over the sky with no hope for a return of the shade of blue everyone had loved dearly. A wind chill swept through the town but eventually became mixed with the searing heat that seeped through the cracks of the ground no one dared to fix. The sign “Welcome to Hawkins” was illuminated by the lights of your car, and upon seeing the population status, you could only assume it was wrong and remained unchanged. 

After the defeated battle with Vecna, numerous citizens fled in fear, cramming the highway and causing long hours of delay. That panicked people more in their already vulnerable states, and many laws were broken in their attempt to escape whatever hell was brought upon them. Fight or flight mode kicked in for the individuals, and you couldn’t blame them for wanting to evade the possibility of their lifeline ending; after all, you fled yourself. You were no hypocrite, and as much as you knew you’d miss everyone, the pain and suffering needed to end for you to move on with your life; otherwise, you didn’t think you could make it out alive. 

When you departed, your friends and family mainly understood your stance, wanting to leave but couldn’t bring themselves to do so. Some were happy for you, congratulating you on your acceptance to the college of your choice, and managed to throw together a goodbye party, but others…not so much. It hurt to think of his name; Steve was taken aback predictably, although his actions were unexpected and hurtful. He wasn’t pleased to see you follow your dreams, but instead, he falsely presumed you’d stay to recuperate and help fight against the evil that hid in the shadows. Steve, the bravest and most courageous man you’d ever met, felt the need to continue the fight and disregard the plentiful protests of his friends. The loss of victory was a hard pill to swallow, an even harder one once the death of a friend that occurred was announced. 

Eddie Munson was your friend, best friend even. He made you forget the truth about the town you both lived in, and you reveled in his presence. The secret was stashed away in your mind when you were around the rambunctious and unrelenting man, long forgotten in the deepest depths of your mind. The death of Eddie took a toll on you and as you briefly closed your eyes, the memories flashed through your mind. Frequently, the flashes of Eddie that are embedded in your memory grasped the reality of life and left you hallucinating. You believed it was PTSD that caused it, but had no desire to get any help for it. How could you describe the events that altered the chemicals in your brain? No one would believe you; they would throw you into an asylum and lock away the key. You’d have to learn along the way how to resolve the problem, as for now though, you’d let the suffering close over you. 

Your dad's house came into view in the distance finally, the sun setting you thought but knew peeking at the sky, you wouldn’t be able to tell what time of day it was until nighttime came around. The clock read 6:56 pm and you sighed. You’d hoped for more time with your family, but on the way here, you were consumed by multiple panic attacks. You’d forgotten your medicine behind that helped those panic attacks, the green, but freeing plant you could very well get here but without Eddie…you just couldn’t trust anyone else. Weed was your only solution to your anxiety, helping the illness be kept at bay. You’d managed to keep the stash Eddie had on him, taking it off of his uncle’s hands so he wouldn’t get into any trouble. Originally, Wayne didn’t want you to take it, stating you’d get arrested if caught with the pile of drugs hidden in the box Eddie kept it in and he almost succeeded in persuading you not to gain ownership over it, but you’d told him you were going to sell it. It had been a lie, of course, though he didn’t need to know that. 

The only part of the stash that you had left over was the marijuana. You had managed to stretch the drugs out evenly for the time while you searched for another dealer, but no one ever came around. Getting another dealer felt like a betrayal to your best friend, so you made sure to make the rest of the stash last for the time being. You were not a drug addict, only toed the line of addiction until you’d stop for a while to gather the strength left to fight your inner demons. You were relatively new to the other drugs Eddie had in the box, taking or smoking little amounts to get you buzzed and then setting it aside. As long as you felt intoxicated, no matter how little or big it felt, it worked in keeping the thoughts at bay. You didn’t find the joy in the drugs you were not used to, only taking/smoking them as a way to relieve yourself and you found that you much-preferred weed among them. Your drug of choice was kept to the side, wanting to leave your favorite for last, but also not wanting to smoke it as it felt daunting and devastating to smoke the weed you shared with Eddie. You were fine, you kept repeating that mantra in hopes it’d make the emotions fade and become true. 

The tires squealed to a stop underneath you, right hand pausing at the gear shift and then pulling it into park. Your duffle bag rested in the backseat holding your belongings including your wallet. You told yourself you’d come back for it and grabbed your keys to pull them out of the ignition, unbuckling your seatbelt with the other unoccupied hand. Lights were on in the rebuilt cabin, lights that almost seemed too bright and allowed you to get a glimpse of the family you left behind. 

Your dad was behind the stove, cooking dinner and Joyce embraced him from behind with a wide smile on her face indicating the happiness she felt. From where you sat, Eleven and Will were nowhere to be seen, assuming they’d either gone out to hang with the rest of the group of kids or retired to their rooms. The house was lively, joy radiating from under the seams of the front door and you sighed. The gut feeling of not wanting to disturb the peaceful nature and churned at the sight of the kiss that was shared between the two parents, however short it was. Your being here would rock the boat filled to the brim with contentment and success at moving on from the dreadful past. Though, Eleven put on a mask around them if she was as sad as she sounded over the phone that led to you coming back. You’d told her over the phone you wanted to never come back to this town, but your love for your adopted sister overpowered that need. You couldn’t leave her behind. 

The vehicle door creaked open and allowed you to step out. Locking the door after shutting it, you shoved your keys into your pocket and stared at the house in front of you. Guilt was creeping into your veins, the bubble they seem to be living in will surely be popped by your arrival. Maybe you should’ve called beforehand, and warned them of your incoming arrival to give them time to prepare for it. It was too late now, though, as you began to hold your fist up to knock. 

The light raps against the door did not go unnoticed, footsteps following not too long after. You could hear Jim wondering out loud who it could be before his hand jangled the door knob. The breath was taken from your lungs once the eyes you missed fell upon yours. You didn’t know what to do; do you smile? Do you offer a hug? A friendly wave? 

“Kid,” he breathed out. His eyes flickered between multiple emotions before settling on joy. His arms enveloped your body in a warm embrace, one hand on the top of your head and the other arm around your shoulders. Your arms wound their way around his torso, squeezing as tightly as he was and a pair of lips kissed your head. The embrace was short lived, Hopper stepping half a step back to take in your presence. “What are you doing back here? Is everything okay?” 

The tears you attempted to hold at bay threatened to spill onto your cheeks, vision going blurry and your nose was beginning to feel stuffy. “El called. She begged me to come back and-“ you abruptly stopped. Should you be honest with him? Was it worth the concern and stress? Hopper repeated what you said, wondering what was left of your sentence. “I missed everyone,” 

It wasn’t a lie, partially the truth but not entirely. The relationship you shared with your father was a supportive one, able to be honest and free but seeing how happy he was in the house with Joyce, it gave you an unsettling feeling when you thought of telling him. 

“Well,” he said with a smile, “Come on in, kid. El and Will should be home soon. They’ve been at Mike’s house.” Hopper led you into the renovated home, the wonderful smell of your favorite dish wafting through the kitchen and into the living room. It was an open floor plan; kitchen and dining room opposite each other and the kitchen island faced the living room. The living room was decorated with many pictures, some with the kids or the adults only. One stood out in particular though. 

Your eyes glazed over at the 5x7 wooden picture frame, two happy twelve year olds staring at you with sparkles in their eyes. You could feel the love emanating from it, sweeping your heart from the darkest depths of the hole it was in and warming it to break the ice surrounding it. One kid was hanging on the back of the other trying to get a piggy ride and the other was laughing, surprised but not shocked. The kid always enjoyed the rides on his back and often wanted them. The color of your eyes seemed brighter in the picture, a satisfying contentment that all was okay and had no idea what would happen in the next few years.

[asterjennifer]

© @deermori on Tumblr

Mystictober 2022 | Day 18 - Favorite Ending

Summary: (Based on the Secret Ending)

Sometimes watching the two brothers interact let all the thoughts bubble back up again.

They're more than the past, aren't they.

─────◇◇◇★◇◇◇─────

What she wouldn't surrender if only she's capable of turning back time to meet them before it all went downhill. Or worse than before, she sighed. These times they must've spend in regret, leaving their hearts arduous in the depths that nobody was able to supervise over the daytime.

It's so bright then, the colors of the world being lit by the mother of all. Neither of them found a harmonizing meaning in the sun being the mother of all; she understood as it had been used against their rights and to justify pain before. How could she ever judge the doubt that comes from such hurtful experience.

These days drifted into motion; they went along with whatever hung in the air that moment. The shifts could become sudden, almost manic despite their best trying to do it differently. Sometimes it's Saeoyung, more days it came from Saeran. She got her moments as well although they're not as heavily rooted as theirs.

She enjoyed them both for their very own qualities. Twins, and yet, they couldn't be more opposite in behavior. It's formed due to past experiences and as everyone's aware, nobody certainly would doubt it took their worlds apart. Sometimes it's obvious enough to have her eyes tear up. A single thought at the hitting mark and she felt the pain in their place.

It took their soul out before; either it's the light that every child owned in the heart or it's the simple lack of love throughout the years. Saeran had it all in Mint Eye; and Saeyoung had it all in the agency. They didn't take anything from each other when it came to tragic events. So much work, so much to fix for metaphorical dust.

Saeyoung responded to the constant pressure of ignorance by owing up to the lost time. But the extreme flame inside his chest suffocated not only the people around him when it got lost in fear, it's as if he's trying to carry everyone in his two fragile human hands perfectly. How could anyone live up to such Godlike task? It's what hurt him.

Saeran's way to reciprocate had always been less active because of the deep anger echoing in the corners of his mind. To be far away's doing the favor for everyone, he acted that way in contradiction to Saeyoung's believes. He thought it's better to isolate himself to ensure neither he nor anyone else would suffer any further through his destructive hands.

What to tell two brothers that never had experienced true love in their childhood, not even in their early adulthood? What's there to ease the pain out they grew up with each day? How to fix the wounds cut so deep they would forever leave scars to both their physical and mental health? Which were the magic words helping them out of the misery into better times?

It seemed lost, she thought. Perhaps it wasn't her issue to work through in the first place. It probably wasn't the group's job picking up these thousand broken pieces in order to repair them again. What if it's only doable by the hands that got their hearts crumbled in front of their feet? What is there to put back together?

Then again, she smiled as she watched Saeran shove the face of his older twin away once the other appeared excited to show a video on his phone; they didn't have to be necessarily broken.

Whether it's considered illness or diagnosed as depression, it didn't implicate they were in need of some kind of fix up. Maybe all they have been through got them stronger for the future to come; the one where they're spending time together like in the younger days. Presumably no issue as she watched the younger one frown and the other laugh since he found his facial expression funny.

They weren't in need of repair, it's not that. All they needed was time with each other to grow back the hole that had been torn open by outsiders. And as long as nobody's going to rip it apart once again; they would be fine. She could tell just by looking at their similar faces speaking so many different stories.

Saeyoung and Saeran weren't beyond hope. Not broken and not in need of anyone's light to make the past magical disappear. These two were nothing but siblings working out their relationship for the better.

[archivelondonfalling-rpg]

Beatrice “Bea” Campbell ♦ Cis Woman (she/her) ♦ 44 ♦ Government/Media ♦ London Mayor PR Representative

The only person I can authentically be is me and I’m going to do a bloody good job at it.

The Campbell family were people in London who were not well-known but certainly well-off. Beatrice was the daughter of a general surgeon and a lawyer. They lived in Knightsbridge and as she grew up Bea certainly didn’t wish for anything. Perhaps it was that security that set Beatrice on the path she ended up in.

She was a ‘free spirit’ and in a family that was prim and proper she didn’t fit in. By the time she was 15 her elder brother was heading to law school, following in their father’s footsteps and instead she was barely passing high school classes and instead focusing on fun. She knew the time would come that she’d choose a profession and settle down but for now she wanted to enjoy things. She’d go out with friends, her boyfriend, do live art classes or late parties. She wanted to have some stories to tell before university.

That outlook changed her life. She was eighteen when the positive pregnancy test turned up. Of course Beatrice and her boyfriend were stunned, this certainly had not been the plan. But they loved each other and in their naive eyes that was all that mattered. Their bubble was quickly popped once their parents found out. Both pairs of adults were furious and absolutely adamant that if the pair wanted to have the child they’d have no support from either of them. So the pair made a huge decision. They would become parents, on their own. However, it didn’t stay as just the two of them for very long. The two of them were polyamorous and although they presumed that their partner would not want to continue a relationship after having a child involved it turned out they did. So Bea, her boyfriend and her girlfriend moved in together. The home that they could afford was very small, a one bed flat in a very different area of London to the one they were used to.

Beatrice left school to raise their child, her partners continued on at school so that he could get a better job for them. Up until her pregnancy progressed too far Bea had a job as a checkout assistant at the local shop. Throughout school her partners took on different jobs to try and provide.  The trio had a son and the little family became one of four.

Despite the difficulties with money the family got by and they were happy with the three adults very much in love. Over time Beatrice was able to return to college to get her qualifications and started looking into full time work once her son was in primary school.

It came to a surprise to most that knew her that she became interested in media and PR. She worked for an HR company in her twenties whilst working part time on a college course for a better qualification. From there she continued to make her way in the world of PR soon creating a good reputation for herself as she began getting involved with bigger, more prestigious companies. It was quite the riches to rags and back to riches story and although certain details of her private life were kept unknown she didn’t shy away from the majority of it.

Which is also how Bea ended up involved within the world of politics. PR and media relations were becoming more and more important. Press attaches were looking for PR representatives to work with different politicians. For a few years Bea freelanced but when Safiya was employed with Luis things changed once more. Bea trusted Safiya and more than that she was interested in the policies that Luis was suggesting as the mayor of the city Bea loved so much. Since then she has been working as a PR representative soon becoming head of PR for Luis Espino’s office.

At the moment Bea is very content in her life, she has two partners she adores, a son who is thriving and a job that she is continuously challenged by. What more could a girl ask for?

+/-: intellectual, quick thinking, passionate, caring, reckless, stubborn, loud, sarcastic

If Bea was to have done another job she’d have loved to be an illustrator, in particular children’s books.

She writes everything down in lists claiming that if she doesn’t she won’t do it. Those lists are also covered with doodles.

Being a mother is Beatrice’s proudest achievement.

She hates broccoli but adores cauliflower

Safiya is Bea’s cousin. Bea’s mother’s brother is Safiya’s father. He did his best to help her when she was starting in PR.

FC: Hannah Waddingham

[significant-narratives]

Ok but consider: the splash bros as a narrative foil to austonmitchy ... nearly 10 years of losing in the most heartbreakingly almost fashion and yet you still choose to stay and go back home to each other vs. being undisputably the best and coming back from the dead time after time after years of waiting and longing and reminding the world that you're unstoppable together even if the clock seems to have other plans.

That and klay is the most recent victim of mitchsogyny which is when uber-entitled fans of a team with a Best Guy Ever want to kick said Guy's work wife off of the only one he's ever known because of (1) bad playoff performance that somehow overshadows several good ones !! Men are watching sports for the wrong reasons just enjoy the gay love story and be grateful ugh !!! Ok sorry for ranting ive just been thinking abt both of them a lot and luv ur blog and need them all to stay married forever or i will do something Drastic etc ok that's all bye have a lovely day <333

oh my god anon... your mind... i had never connected those two dots but yes absolutely!! as always i am prone to rambling so i'm sticking the rest of my reply under the cut.

i think you nailed it re: how despite the different trajectory each pairing has taken (years of coming close but not close enough vs literal dynastic success) the enduring love is still there!

i also think the way these two pairings came to be is interesting to compare. auston and mitch written in the stars (auston shattering the glass of the rink off a mitch assist in their first practice together, fast friends since they were rookies etc) vs steph and klay having a slower burn and only really bonding a couple years in (the barcelona trip).

and then, like. auston and mitch sitting in the locker room together, united in their grief and heartbreak in the amazon doc... the effervescent joy that klay and steph take in succeeding together but also watching each other succeed, even all these years later!! both pairs always speaking highly of one another, understanding that they make each other better, and most importantly wanting to climb the metaphorical mountain together. and needing each other in order to do so.

less important but amusing to me: one half getting married and settling down (steph, mitch) and the other still (presumably) happily living that bachelor life (klay, auston)

have to take a quick second to highlight this part of your ask because it made me feel so weepy in wake of Recent Events (which i will circle back to):

being undisputably the best and coming back from the dead time after time after years of waiting and longing and reminding the world that you're unstoppable together even if the clock seems to have other plans

LIKE.... LET'S TALK ABOUT IT FOR REAL... steph is a generational talent, an all time great, changed the way the game is played etc etc BUT. everything he has won at an nba level has been with klay by his side. the warriors were a lottery team for two seasons, everyone said they'd never win again in the 1130 era... and then klay came back and they won again! when steph was out last season, klay played a huge part in keeping the time afloat! i repeat that through the power of true love all things are possible and i think that's beautiful.

and of course, klay as the most recent victim of mitchsogyny is just incredible scholarship, truly. i've been avoiding all warriors-related news/spaces this offseason because people are being so fucking miserable, it's painful to see.

like, with the faction of leafs fans who want mitch gone, i can almost understand why they feel that way (note: that doesn't mean i approve or agree lol). and that's because in the same way that winning cures all, losing poisons everything.

but with warriors fans and klay, it's like? was four championships and coming back from two potentially career-ending injuries not enough for you people? did you guys forget a decade plus of incredible performances that quickly? where is your sense of loyalty! <- this circles back to your point abt how the average sportsfan engages with team sports. they care about the logo, the team as a concept, and maybeee one or two superstar players. but for me personally, and i think for many people on sports tumblr, what good is rooting for a team if the team is completely unrecognizable? i don't want to see nameless players win a title, i want to watch my guys win! i want to get invested in their journeys and their accomplishments and watch them grow together! sports are just stories about people at the end of the day!

please don't apologize anon, i too have been in the trenches with the news that klay is likely to leave as a FA and just... everything... about the mitch situation. i think the most important thing to remember is that no matter what happens, the love will always be there. and when we look back, their names will always be said together.

[feralgodmothers]

Hi!

So I read your post on Liz and I really liked your thoughts on that.

So, I was just wondering- I read an article on siblings, where despite growing in the same household, siblings can turn out very differently (Luke and Liz are proof of that) and I couldn't help but wonder- given that Jess and Doula will presumably experience a different kind of Liz as a mother- do you think she could grow up to be a female version of Jess? Given that in AYITL, Liz and TJ are borderline clueless (they joined a vegetable cult), so they presumably could be those kind of parents who forget that Doula is there and Doula had to fend for herself.

I would love to know your thoughts. Thanks. 😃

Hi there!

Thank you so much! 💖

(I tracked down Liz and TJ’s scenes and rewatched them, because I couldn’t remember much about them as a couple. 😆😅)

I think it’s possible. DNA or a variety of outside influences could cause them to develop similar personalities. Doula could inherit the Danes’ gift of sass and sarcasm, grow up to be an introvert, or she could even be too smart for her own good and feel some disconnection in that sense. She could make friends with the punk kids at school, or most directly - be influenced by Jess himself (the more watered down version of him though, since he was about 20 when Doula was born). Just from personal experience - I have a half-sister who’s 10 years older than I am. Even though we have the same mom, our childhood experiences turned out to be fairly different from each other. But as a kid, I worshipped the ground she walked on - and to this day we generally share the same perspective. So depending on how often Jess visited, or how strongly Doula was drawn to him - she might have taken after him in a similar way.

But as far as Doula turning out like Jess due to negligence - I think I’d have to say no. As you mentioned - Liz is in a much better place. She’s no longer held back by any of her old vices, and she now has a partner who treats her well, and is very supportive and loyal to her. She and TJ have a lot of good things in common - they’re both emotionally open and enthusiastic, and they’re both considerate of each other’s needs and invested in each other’s happiness. They generally bring out the best in each other, and work together in a positive and upbuilding way. I think they managed to create a decently stable foundation of love, support, and communication by the time Doula came along. When Liz was pregnant and kicked TJ out in a panicked meltdown because she was so scared that she/they would fail her second child, and that it would end up “out of control” and “without any discipline” - TJ’s response was that he’d be willing to read as many parenting books as he could to do right by his daughter. So even though Liz and TJ have a “zest for life”, shall we say, and are very spontaneous when it comes to accepting new opportunities - I think they also show a willingness to come together and put in diligent work where it matters. And for both of them, family matters a lot. I think that Liz being in a much healthier place and desperate to avoid repeating her mistakes, together with their shared resolve to be the best parents they can be, gives Doula a pretty good shot. And what little we saw after Doula was born shows them following through with that same mindset, imo. They’re both very attentive and involved, and it’s rare that one or both of them aren’t with her. I think that’s a good indication of how they would handle things together as she got older.

Thanks for the question!  This was a really cool concept to think about. ☺️

[harrysfinelinevol1]

track 5

harry styles x famous!reader

summary: you have been invited on the late late show to play spill your guts or fill your guts with your ex boyfriend harry. after the game he reveals something to you which makes you question everything. (this takes place just after fine line has come out)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: very slight smut at the end, eating gross food? idk

-

Sometimes, you did really question how you ended up in scenarios like the one you were currently in. You always knew that a downside of fame would be the appearances you would have to make and the awkward interviews you had to sit through but this was just pretty strange.

A movie you were starring in had just come out and you were incredibly proud of it. It was one of your best performances and there were rumours circulating of an Oscar nomination heading your way. You were going through a long week of press appearances and premiers but this appearance really topped them all.

You were currently sitting across from your ex-boyfriend, a table full of disgusting food between the two of you and a set of questions off to the side, which you knew would contain questions about your relationship. When your manager mentioned doing this segment and appearing on the Late Late Show, you had always presumed you would be doing this alongside James Corden. However, after you had agreed to it, your manager kindly let you know you would be interviewed by the one and only Harry Styles.

You and Harry had dated for about a year, and you had a very happy relationship together and still were friendly with each other. You hadn't had an explosive break-up that everyone had said you had, it was amicable. Both of your careers were dragging you in different directions and soon it became impossible to sustain a relationship. That didn't mean you weren't sad when it ended, you had loved Harry and the year you spent together had been one of the best of your life, but it just wasn't meant to be. You still texted him occasionally but you had pretty much removed yourself from his life, knowing it would be easier to get over him if you did. Since you broke up, he had gone on to release another album and you had starred in Little Women, one of the biggest films of the year.

You had to admit though, despite it being amicable between you and Harry, playing spill your guts or fill your guts with him wasn't at the top of your list of ideal interviews. You had had a slight temper tantrum with your manager when you found out until she told you to stop being childish and just to get on with it. You had huffed and whined about it but eventually just did what you were told, knowing you were more than capable of putting on a brave face and pretending to be happy for the camera. You were an actress after all.

You sent him a small smile as you lowered yourself into the seat opposite him, which he returned with a much cheekier smile. You realised he was enjoying watching you squirm and you weren't having any of it. Raising an eyebrow at him, you sent him a silent warning with your eyes but a warmer smile grew on your face. Despite everything you already felt comfortable around him, sort of falling back into the way you used to be with each other.

At that point the director came strolling up to you both, slightly smirking at the scene of the both of you eyeing each other up across the table.

"Right guys, I'm sure you already know the general gist of the game, but there's a pile of questions beside you and luckily for you, some disgusting food you get to eat on the table. When it's your turn, ask the other person a question and the other person can decide whether they want to answer the question or eat the food to avoid answering. Very simple. There's a bucket beside you to spit out any food, as well as a glass of water and a napkin. If at any point you feel really sick, please just raise your hand and we will halt filming. Hopefully, that won't happen though," he joked and both you and Harry didn't really smile back, not exactly thrilled about the idea of potentially throwing up on live TV.

"All good," he asked and you and Harry both nodded.

"Perfect. Ok you're on in a minute," he finished and rushed back over to his spot behind the camera. You adjusted your outfit. You now realise wearing a white suit was maybe not your best idea.

"You look beautiful," Harry muttered from across the table and your head snapped up.

"Oh, um, thank you. You look very smart too," you complimented back, checking out his brown suit and the way it hugged all his best features. He did look really good but you would never admit it to anyone.

"30 SECONDS PEOPLE," a crew member shouted and you gathered yourself, trying not to look too flustered at the fact that Harry had just called you beautiful.

"And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.. Go Harry," the director called as you heard the theme song playing.

"Hello and welcome back! We are now joined by the lovely Y/N L/N!" Harry announced as the audience cheered. You smiled and waved into the camera, thanking the audience for their support.

"Now Y/N," he said turning dramatically to you and you couldn't help the small smile that grew on your face. He was a natural host. "How are you feeling about this."

"I can't believe I agreed to this really," you joked and the audience laughed.

"You haven't played this before," he asked and you shook your head.

"No first time," you said as you grimaced at the food.

"Ok so this is our first time..." he began and the audience whooped in response, both of you laughing as you clocked on to what Harry said.

"Not like that!" he teased and everyone laughed. "Ok, ok, settle down, let's take a look at what's on the table tonight."

He grabbed the table to begin swivelling it to show the audience.

"So first we have jellied moose nose," he announced and the audience groaned.

"Yeah, ew," Harry mimicked them as he moved the table to the next one and began reading out all the gross food on the table. Your stomach turned slightly at the thought of putting any of it in your mouth. Eventually, Harry finished going through the food and turned to you.

"Ok Y/N, you're going to go first, and just to clarify, the producers have not shown us the questions, correct?"

"Unfortunately they have not," you responded cheekily.

"Ok, so you'll choose the food I have to eat if I chose not to answer," and you agreed eagerly, sort of excited to start playing.

"Ok Harry, you're going to be eating... Fried Tarantula!" you announced moving the dish over to him and laughing as he groaned into his hands.

"Delightful, thanks Y/N," he bantered.

"No worries. Right," you leaned over and picked up a question, giggling to yourself when you read what was on it.

"Oh god," he muttered.

"I am 26 years old. Your friend, Emma Corrin, is also 26 years old. Who is the most talented 26-year-old?" you asked and the audience gasped as Harry threw his head back laughing.

"Come on!" he groaned as he picked up the knife and fork and cut a bit of the fried tarantula. You grimaced as he held it up to his mouth.

"Oh Harry," you sympathised and he looked at you deadpan.

"Yeah you feel bad now, don't you," he teased and you shrugged, very amused by the situation. You almost gagged as he quickly popped the tarantula into his mouth and chewed on it, his face scrunching up as he reached for the bin next to spit it out, the audience cheering loudly.

"Eww," you groaned, as Harry took a sip of water.

"Wow, that has an aftertaste!" he coughed as he took some more water. "Ok. Er... it will be a prawn smoothie for you," he grinned as he moved it over to you and you winced.

"Nooo, I hate prawns," you groaned as Harry picked up the question card.

"I know," he teased and the audience went mad. Rolling your eyes you waited for him to ask the question. He snorted as he read it and you were filled with dread.

"Rate all the One Direction members, from worst to best," he read and everyone cheered as you raised your eyebrows, trying to work out if you could answer this. You rested your chin in your hand as you thought about the question.

"I'm offended you're even thinking about this," he chastised, giving you that signature cheeky grin.

"I don't know how to answer it, you're all so nice," you tried and he shook his head.

"Ok," Harry said sarcastically, not believing a word you were saying.

"Shut up! You are!" you exclaimed and he chuckled.

"Drink the smoothie," he told you and you shook your head.

"No!"

"Go on then answer!" he kept pushing you, with the audience egging you on.

"Ok um... from worst to best...uh... ok," you stuttered and Harry groaned.

"Come on!" he said as the audience cheered louder.

"Liam, Zayn, Louis, Niall, Harry," you quickly rushed out and the audience screamed in delight while you buried your hands in your face.

"I haven't met Liam or Zayn, it's not personal," you explained and Harry shrugged.

"I'm first, that's all that matters," he smirked and the audience went wild again as you blushed a bright red, begging Harry with your eyes to move on.

"Right, for that, you're gonna be eating some bull testicles," you shot back, swivelling the gross-looking food in front of him and he pulled a face when he saw them.

"Mmm lovely," he said as you reached for the next card, heart racing a bit when you read what was on it. Harry looked nervous at your reaction and you wickedly grinned at him.

"I've actually really wanted to know this," you started and he gulped, genuinely worried about what you were going to ask.

"Which songs on Fine Line were about me?" you questioned and everyone lost it. You were giggling away as Harry clapped a hand over his face, the audience begging him to answer. You knew there was no way on earth he would answer and you were right as he pulled the napkin out with a flourish and tucked it into his shirt, poking the testicles around with his fork, staring at them disgusted.

"So er... I'd say track..." he teased and you laughed loudly.

"Just don't look at it," you tried.

"Oh yeah, that fixes everything," he scoffed as he cut a little bit of the testicles onto his fork. He sat there sighing for a bit, staring at the gross food on his fork.

"What are we doing?" he pondered and you chuckled. Quickly, he lifted the fork up to his mouth and popped the food in, grimacing immediately as the taste hit his tongue. After chewing a bit, he spat it out, almost gagging.

"The texture was just horrible, ugh," he gagged as you chuckled, very much enjoying this now.

"Y/N. For this question, I am going to give you... some ant soup," he said as he moved the grey-looking liquid in front of you.

"Ugh, I'm not eating that," you groaned and Harry picked up the card, cackling as he read it.

"Think you might be love. You are one of the most recognised actresses in the world, who is the worst person you have ever worked with?" he asked and you buried your face in your hands, realising there was no way you could answer this.

"Who is itttt?" Harry teased as you glared at him, tentatively picking up the spoon.

"I can't answer that," you said as you quickly spooned the disgusting soup into your mouth. It was worse than you imagined, you quickly swallowed it and then reached over for the water, chugging it to rid your mouth of the taste. Harry was laughing the whole time as your face screwed up in disgust.

"That was horrific," you gasped as you stopped drinking water.

"To be fair, watching you eat that made me feel sick," Harry sympathised.

"Ok," you said as you gathered yourself. "Uh Harry, you shall be having some fish eyes tonight," you chose as you spun the table around and he groaned.

"Lovely, can't wait."

"Alright," you said as you reached for the card, smiling when you read the question. "If you get this wrong, I'll be very upset. Before the show today, you said you had thoroughly enjoyed my recent movie, Little Women. Which March sister did I play in the movie?" you asked and the audience all began whispering, paying keen attention to Harry to see if he knew the answer.

"Oh god," he teased, pretending to have a real think about it and you pretended to act annoyed.

"Oh come off it Harry," you sighed as he pretended to deliberate for a bit longer.

"You played Meg March," he said seriously and your jaw dropped. He'd actually got it wrong. Then suddenly his face broke into a grin and you realised he'd been messing with you.

"Only joking, you played Jo!" he teased and the audience all applauded him for getting it right while you scowled at him.

"I actually thought you didn't know the answer for a second there," you giggled as he clapped his hands in delight and turned to the camera.

"That was Spill your Guts or Fill your Guts, we'll be right back with more Late Late Show!" he exclaimed as the audience cheered loudly and the camera's panned away. As they called cut, you and Harry were ushered to the side where you were offered water and gum to get the horrible taste out of your mouths. You laughed along with him as you recalled the horrific things you ate as you prepared yourselves for the interview section of the show. Just as you were about to go back on, a wave of confidence came over you and you stepped up beside Harry.

"So which tracks was it?" you questioned and he looked down at you and smirked.

"Most of them," he said sincerely and you were taken aback slightly, not expecting that at all.

"Really?" you exhaled, suddenly feeling quite nervous.

"Bar a couple, most of them were about you. Track 5 in particular, your voice is literally at the end of it," he chuckled and you shrugged.

"I haven't heard that one," you whispered, ashamed that you hadn't properly listened to the whole album yet, even though Harry had already seen your new movie. However, he didn't look offended at all.

"Go listen to it. I've gotta go back on but you have a couple minutes. Enjoy," he said as he winked at you, slipping back through the curtains to set up. You quickly scrambled about on your phone, willing Spotify to load so you could listen to it. You clicked on the song called Cherry and the music started floating out of the phone speaker.

By the end of it, you were a wreck, you had no idea Harry missed you so much. You began reading the lyrics for his other songs on the album and realised how many of them pertained to you. The album was mostly about you.

"Fuck," you whispered as you quickly snuck outside and went over to where Harry was sitting.

"Drinks after this?" you whispered in his ear and he nodded quickly, trying to stop the grin that was fighting its way onto his face.

"Cool," you said as you rushed backstage again, nervously wringing your hands.

You tried to keep your cool throughout the interview, but all you could think about was the songs that Harry had written you. Your head was a bit of a mess and Harry could see that, but he made sure that he focused on the questions he was asking you and you gave pretty good responses, all things considered. After the interview and the show had wrapped, you quickly went back to your dressing room, to get your mic off and then you began listening to the entirety of the album. Sunflower was your favourite, the tune reminding you of early mornings in your kitchen with Harry. A knock on your door pulled you out of your stupor and you opened it nervously to be met by a grinning Harry.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked referring to the fact that Cherry was on repeat for the 4th time this evening. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff.

"Come on H. I think we've got a lot to talk about," you acknowledged as you headed out the door and he nodded as he followed you.

-

You talked all evening. You talked about how you both desperately missed each other and how you had both been really sad when you broke up but you agreed that it had been right at the time. You talked about what you had been up to in the year and a half you had been apart. Harry talked about writing the album and how, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get you out of his head when he wrote the songs which is why so many were inspired by you. You mentioned the guy you had briefly gone out with and Harry's eyes darkened and he told you that that was why he wrote Cherry. He told you that it had been one of the sadder periods of the last year when he really thought it was completely over between the two of you and there was no chance of reconciliation. He opened up about the fact he had never really left you entirely and he always still had one foot through the door. You agreed and said you had been in denial for a while that it was truly over. It was getting late in the night when you both looked at each other and realised you had spent the last 4 hours going in circles and avoiding the most important question that was hanging over the both of you.

"I don't think I want us to be apart again," Harry mumbled and you nodded. Both of you were a bit tipsy and feeling quite emotional.

"Neither do I. I should never have let you go," you admitted and Harry cursed under his breath.

"Y/N I... I never stopped loving you. I don't know what the future has in store for us but I just know that I want you in it," he professed and you were quite taken aback. The chat had taken quite a turn.

"Please say something, love," he begged as he reached across the table to take your hand.

"I miss you," you blurted out. "I miss you so much it hurts and I want to be with you again. I never stopped loving you either."

"Come back to me Y/N," he whispered and you nodded, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms again. He tugged on your hand and you rose up out of your seat and walked over to settle on his lap. You didn't care that you were in the middle of the bar as you crashed your lips into his, savouring every moment with him. You couldn't believe this was happening but a small part of you always knew you would find your way back to each other. You were made for each other

And, that night as Harry had you on your kitchen counter with his head buried between your thighs, he looked up at you cheekily again.

"You know, you heavily inspired a certain song on that album," he smirked and you rolled your eyes knowing where he was going with this.

"Harry I swear to god if you say I inspired..." you started but he cut you off.

"Watermelon Sugar," he grinned and lowered his head back onto your folds again. You couldn't even lament him for it, as your moans filled the kitchen and your heart swelled to the point you thought it would burst.

You were home.

-

turns out, i can actually write shortish fics. this popped into my head one day and i knew i had to write it. i hope you enjoy!!!

sloane xx