#i wish i could have stayed going to weekly therapy

[tamagotchikgs]

my sister wants to go to the fair again n i cant and everyone is mad at me for it n i already felt guilty for not doing it n i just . stuck in my room in a ball crying n shaking & squeezing myself as tight as i can 2 make it all stop

[leescheyenne]

Have y'all seen this interview with US weekly?! Seems like a lot of effort was put in to cast the right actors for the role, and honestly, the result speaks for itself. No wonder this show "achieved the largest first week global viewership for an International Original in Prime Video history"..

Here's the complete article:

https://www.yahoo.com/entertainment/maxton-hall-damian-harriet-discuss-104139226.html

I just wanted to highlight what they said about their hopes for season 2, which is so sweet 🥺 :-

Harriet: "[I would like Ruby] to stay true to herself and to set boundaries. She's already doing this, but to keep doing this. And not changing for him," Herbig-Matten shared. "And I would like to focus on female friendships. That is really important too. And don't let a man destroy your life."

Damian: "I've been saying this a lot. I truly wish for him that he and his family ideally go to family therapy and figure out what's been going on," he said. "They could have better communication of their wants and their needs together and kind of figure out how they can fulfill that. And they can learn how to go forward and not make life so hard for each other."

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

here's a question, what do you think happens to Debbie (and Franny) post s11? Personally I'm not a fan of the idea that Debbie would go off with Heidi after she fought tooth and nail to stay in her own house, plus Heidi is...not really what I'd picture for a good ending to Debbie's story. What would you see being a good post script for Debs?

ahhhh i love you for asking this

i mean, there's a part of me that wants to say that everything will go great for them, but i think that it'll be rough for a little while.

to answer the heidi thing (which i have talked about many times before but this ask is a little bit old lol sorry!), she will not last. she'll be gone in like, a week, and will never be heard from again. i think that the finale made that pretty clear, even though other people interpreted it in other ways. when heidi mentioned texas, debbie looked hesitant, and considering how she spent the past season fighting for this house, and the past eleven seasons fighting for her family, there isn't a single part of me that thinks she will be leaving for texas and if she does, her kid will be coming with her 100%.

but anyways, debbie will be going through it. she will have lost her father and her girlfriend in the same week or so and given her abandonment issues, i think she'll probably break. she'll have a whole breakdown over it, then be a bit depressed for a month or two, and then i think she'll slowly start to feel better. also, something that nobody talks about for some reason is the fact that post-11x12 all of the gallaghers (including mickey, tami, kevin, and veronica) all most likely get covid since they were all around frank and like touching him and shit, so that will probably happen.

i think that, as always, she'll pick herself up on her own and fix everything herself. her business will thrive, maybe she'll help out at the alibi if carl and tipping buy it (i hc that they do), but i think that money-wise she'll be set.

she and lip will definitely still have some conflict. every gallagher kid has a complex, difficult relationship with frank (i've actually been writing about this) but these two and frank have always stuck out to me (but they all stick out to me, honestly). i think that since the two of them were already fighting and are both notoriously awful at handling their emotions shit will go down.

debbie will keep the house since it's been in her name since the season nine finale (i mean duh, why would lip get to sell HER house??), lip, tami, and fred will move to milwaukee but then lip and tami will split up and it'll be messy, maybe he'll come back to chicago and they'll get split custody, carl will live there for another year or two, liam will live there until he graduates, and ian and mickey will move back to the south side. debbie will feel uneasy because of all of the change, so she'll insist on family dinners weekly, absolutely NO exceptions (you could be sick with some sort of flesh eating virus and she'd still demand that you attend).

she will never fully process losing frank. even dead, he still manages to fuck her over. i think that she'll set up a memorial for him a lot like the one she set up in 3x01.

if she reads the letter it'll fuck her up even more and i'm hoping that she gets therapy (i have a fic in my drafts about this lol) to help her deal with trauma, abandonment issues, grief, and help her navigate parenting while being only twenty.

i seriously just wish her the best because season eleven really made me realize how much she actually needs help.

live laugh debbie gallagher

[lantur]

I can't believe I haven't written in almost two weeks. :// I really regret falling so behind with journaling on here. I want to get back to it, because it helps me process my thoughts. Long post underneath the read more.

notes on life,

I was thoroughly overwhelmed by my work trip two weeks ago, but I was delighted to get to see @thatisadamnfinecupofcoffee and @annespelledwithane again. Spending time with them (going out for ramen and to the prettiest tea house in the East Village, and then eating an entire buffet of desserts from two different bakeries, and staying up until 2 AM) was a mini-vacation I very much needed.

It took me a whole week to recover from being out of town for a few days. :// I truly don't bounce back from travel the way I used to a few years ago...

I've been in my new job for almost exactly one month now. The challenging transition phase is over. I'm still adjusting to being way busier than I used to be, putting a lot more mental effort in. It's tiring. Every day, I do roughly as much work as I used to do in one week at my old job, so I have to work faster and harder than I used to before. It makes the days go by super fast, which is disorienting. I feel like February just started, but actually the month started eight days ago.

I've been trying to keep on top of my personal goals despite all of that. I've been enjoying swimming and yoga. I cooked a new recipe, halal cart chicken and rice, and it turned out really good. I'm hoping to cook two more new recipes before the end of this month. I finished my audiobook of The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, and it was so good that I kept thinking of the ending for days after I finished it. I started listening to My Best Friend's Exorcism by Grady Hendrix a few days ago as well.

I had my long-awaited psychiatrist appointment yesterday. I was nervous, but the psychiatrist was very kind and empathetic, and she is also another WOC. She has suggested starting a new medication to treat type 2 bipolar disorder. I'm nervous, but hopeful that this could help me.

I've been going through pelvic floor physical therapy as well for the past couple of weeks, which is quite a time and energy commitment - weekly appointments with the PT, and regular practice at home. It's tiring, on top of everything else going on with work, social life, home maintenance, exercise, etc., but I'm hopeful that this too will help me address longstanding issues with excessive pelvic floor tightness. I wish it could be fixed quickly, but I think it might take months to sort out.

I've been enjoying spending time with Derek playing board games, and cuddling my cat Westin and watching The Wire at night/in the evenings after work. The quiet time really helps me recover before the next work day.

I have been loving watching The Last of Us.

I had a wonderful time hanging out with my little nieces, five and almost three years old, on Saturday and playing hide and seek with them. <3

I had a dream that really hit me hard a couple of nights ago. I dreamed I got to see my brother again. We hung out, and I gave him a big hug. I was adopted, so we weren't raised together. We only saw each other once every few years, until our families became estranged. I haven't seen him in 10 years now, as we live in different countries. We're in touch occasionally over text. I wrote on here last fall that I thought I processed my grief over that separation, and found surrogate siblings in my brothers- and sisters-in-law via Derek's family. So this dream hit me hard. I wouldn't have normally done this, but I sent my brother a short text tonight, just saying I was thinking about him and I hope he and his wife are doing well. It hurts a lot. I always wonder if I'm ever going to see him again. I would love to give him and my sister-in-law a hug.

I'm looking forward to therapy on Friday. I haven't been able to have an appointment in about three weeks or so, and I'm excited to be able to process my thoughts and feelings with my therapist, and getting back to doing that on here by myself as well.

[symptoms-syndrome]

Reflecting on. Some stuff. Possibly could be under the label of "psychiatric trauma?" But I'm still grappling with that. Talk of that, and a brief mention of suicide.

I'm struggling with this idea, an idea that I am fairly sure has mostly been implanted in me by my history with psychiatry, psychiatric treatment, special education, et cetera. It's hard to summarize or simplify.

Most of my life, I have been told that my problems should only be handled, or that I should only be handled, by trained professionals. My mental health struggles were "severe" and I "need to consider the impact I make on my peers." Of course this has been present a lot through most of my life. I didn't talk to peers or teachers about problems I was going through, because either it would alienate me from them, or I would be given a talking to about what's appropriate for me to talk about, or I'd have to sit in a little room with the school psychiatrist and talk about whatever it was that I wished to talk about with someone who was not her. But I guess I didn't fully comprehend this sort of...isolation, or treatment, until my first real suicide attempt. It was the first time I had really been sent to full inpatient, though I'd been to partial hospitalization a few times at that point. I remember being scared. I remember being lonely. I didn't have any of my familiar clothes or belongings. My first visitor was my school principal, accompanied by my birth mother. He met with me in one of those smaller meeting rooms, and he told me that I wouldn't be having any visitors from the school. He was worried, he said, that my choices could influence an already fragile school population, that I may drive others to attempt as well if they saw the state I was in.

After that I never actually went to that school again. I was only there for a couple months before the litany of partials and inpatient stays, and eventually two different special education institutions. Both were meant to be temporary. They were staffed with around three staff members, clearly psychiatric-focused, who struggled to teach us basic education between therapy groups and coping skill classes and DBT sessions. They treated us with a distance and unfamiliarity that wasn't much like teachers in mainstream schools. Cold professionalism.

For, I believe, the last year of high school, I was allowed back into one of the mainstream high schools. With supervision. I had daily class periods in the special education classroom and weekly check-ins with the school psychiatrist. In my classes with mainstream teachers, they treated me without the warm friendliness they afforded to the other students, many of whom they'd spent four years being in the same building with, or teaching in different classes. I had attendants to check in on me. I was given extra discipline for things that other students did with impunity. Other students could tell. I was sometimes treated with a cautious, almost pitying kindness by them, which I appreciated but wasn't close to the way they treated their friends. I was forbidden from a number of extracurriculars because they lacked the staff to supervise me after school. At one point I was explicitly told I was a "liability."

All of this seemed to show me that I cannot be trusted to integrate with normal folk. Not without the guidance and supervision of professionals. Like zookeepers.

Now...what am I to do? I was told not to be vulnerable with anyone but professionals. No one but the highly trained can understand or handle me talking about my experiences, or crying, or talking about the way I feel. I'm like radioactive material that can only be held with gloves or pliers.

And now I'm left behind by those professionals. Their duty is just that, duty, and once they are no longer obligated to make sure I'm properly contained their job is done and I am no longer their responsibility. No more mandatory check-ins or special education, no more being whisked away from the normal folk when I start to stray from sterile, empty behavior. I mentioned once before, I feel like an animal that's been released into the wild after captivity. I am supposed to just...be human. Be natural. Supposedly instinct will guide me. But I don't know how to be a wild animal anymore. I don't know how to hunt, I can't fit into a pack, all I know how to do is pace around the space I'm used to being caged in. And wait for orders or guidance or whatever else was offered to me by my highly controlled environment. When I try to be natural, it's like I'm being reminded of an electric fence that's no longer there. I can't share with normal folk, it's a bad influence for them. I can't cry in front of normal folk, I'm being disruptive. I can't be natural, because for some reason it was decided that my natural is bad. And I can't figure out what it could be that's different between my natural (bad) and their natural (good.) Other people cry, other people get upset, other people share things that are sometimes upsetting, other people share the ways they're feeling authentically. But I was told that when I do it, it isn't appropriate for them. It's disruptive, or manipulative, or attention-seeking, or a bad influence.

I want to know how to integrate with normal folk, and how to be natural. I'm just very, very afraid of hurting them, because I was told that's what I would do. I was told I wasn't fit for normalcy. The only place I belong is institutionalization. The only people I belong with are handlers and psychiatrists. I'm a dangerous animal that needs constant supervision. And I don't even know why.

[pineapplerightsideupcake]

maybe kinda random but you give good advice so I wanna hear your thoughts. I feel really lonely due to living in a small town, not being able to make friends in hs bc my toxic parents never let me go anywhere. I have 2 irl friends that I love and appreciate but they work a lot so we rarely text or see each other bc they’re always so busy/tired. I wish I had more friends so I wouldn’t feel so lonely. I’ve tried dating apps, online spaces, etc but nothing worked. And if I made a (online) friend they’ve ghosted me for whatever reasons. I’m trying so hard to stay positive but I really hate my life (being stuck in a toxic household tryna save money in this economy…) not having anyone to have meaningful connections with makes it worse. Idk what to do. These days I’ve been thinking a lot about s*icide even tho I’m a coward and won’t do it. The only thing that makes me feel better is disassociating and pretending like I’m someone else or in a different situation. But I can’t do that forever…. I could go more in depth but I don’t wanna burden you. I’m wondering how can I make friends and actually feel like life’s worth living?

If you’re in your early twenties, I have good news! No part of your life will ever be as hard as it is right now. I’ve been right where you are. Depressed and lonely and suicidal. I felt like there was no escape. But there is light at the end of the tunnel.

My first bit of advice is that nothing external is going to fill the emptiness in you. It’s a wound that needs to heal and self love and fulfillment have to happen before anything else can. And those words look big right now because we don’t do a good job of talking about how to achieve them in little ways. Ways you can start today.

First pick the easiest thing to motivate you to do something regularly. Therapy is a good start, but for me my healing began when I started cleaning my (actually my dads) house. Cleaning was something I kinda liked and it wasn’t scary because I didn’t have to leave the house. I started by just picking a shelf to organize. Then one thing to scrub. Eventually I was proud of my spotless house and wanted to do things like cut fresh flowers for a nice table. I wanted to go to the store and get a fancy snack or a nice candle. I walked my dogs everyday and being in nature was profoundly healing for me. I picked the things I could do even when I was miserable.

Where you can start is the easy places for you. Maybe you’re more like my sister and need to pour that effort into your job. Or maybe you need to build things like my other sister. Maybe you’re close to a grandparent and can schedule a weekly dinner. I have a friend that started writing fanfiction, then her own novel. I have another friend that works on cars. That started with just tinkering with his own.

And none of those things have to be huge on day one. If you paint, just swirl colors or doodle on day one. If you write, write a paragraph. Do a 100 piece puzzle. Listen to music. Cry if you have to. Forgive yourself for the days you can’t do anything. If you’re self medicating with alcohol/weed/cigarettes try and cut back a tiiiiny bit.

But kids from disfunctional families are set up to fail. Children have very little autonomy to begin with and we spend the first 18-21 years of our lives having life be something that happens TO us. This is even worse in dysfunctional families where you have to sort of float with the current just to survive. Then they push us out the door and say “go live” without any instruction. All your skills and coping mechanisms are built around enduring life and not around building one.

And that’s the big secret. You have to build your life but you also get to. Fill it with things you love and enjoys and prune out the things that stress you out.

And lastly, the way to make friends is the same way you ask someone on a date. Luckily unlike a date, most people are JUST AS DESPERATE FOR A FRIEND AS YOU! People have never been lonelier. My secret is I go out, I do activities. I tell friends to invite other friends, then befriend them. If I run into an old childhood playmate, or college pal or old classmate I follow up on those half baked plans to “get coffee sometime”. Family can be included here too. Maybe you have a chill sibling or cousin.

DnD has been great for me. People hear I DM and so many people are like “oh I’ve always wanted to play” so I invite them! A low stakes way to find a new friend is to talk about a really fun thing you’re doing around coworkers/acquaintances and when someone makes this face 🥺 you say “why don’t you join us/me!”

Or do what my autistic best friend did and I quote “find one really loud but nice extrovert and don’t blast their huge social group with your autism until after you’re their party healer” which is a silly way for me to say that making one friend leads to others.

I could go on and on here but this is an essay already. Hope this helps and isn’t just a stream of consciousness.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

He tilts his head up, eyes trained on Tony when he mimics his tone of voice. Clint thinks that they were doing this talking thing well, even if Kate took all the talking out of him and he had opened up a lot more to her than he had in the entire week of being here. There had been some fighting, some not pleasant truths that the both of of them had to face. Facts about themselves, and he was talked out.

Yet here they were, talking more because Clint does want to exercise proof of his independence (which is a complicated and point of contention that he and Kate had argued at great lengths with). ❝ I should stick to my word, and I was good to go alone earlier. I'm all talked out, but should be able to manage. It ⸺ she left me with a lot to think about and I... she said she'd text me and coffee this weekend, so. . . I'm more tired. ❞ HE DEFINITLY MIGHT CRY AGAIN, but that's probably more an effect of being tired as well than anything else.

He honestly doesn't think he'll process all of this until a few days down the line, or perhaps at therapy tomorrow. He, also, had a community service thing tomorrow at a shelter, cleaning and dishes, as he needed to get on his weekly hours. There may be a little bit of this that is Clint determined to prove himself, but wasn't that also just doing the work?

Clint doesn't quite know how to explain what he was feeling about Kate. It happened, it was a lot for many hours, and than she went home instead of staying for dinner. Clint didn't quite know what to make of it. ❝ I don't know. It's fine, take a night off. I'm good. ❞

BUY BRANDY A PUPPY. Clint could imagine how that'd go, and Tony's right it was the cutest damn thing. HOPEFULLY KATE DOES'T CHANGE HER MIND AFTER HEARING EVERYTHING TODAY. Clint smiles looking at the videos, and he definitely wishes that he could have witnessed them.

❝ It's adorable, Luck's a good pup like that. ❞ He had no doubt that the mutt would be good with a baby. Clint Definitely wished he had gotten more time with the dog, but the big stuff with Kate first. HOW DID THAT ACTUALLY GO?

SNORT. ❝ Aw, babe and we're making out sauce and meatball. It's not just boxed pasta. ❞ He teases, but that was simple enough as it was. Their own meatballs wasn't hard, it was added extra stuff like their own seasoning than rolling ground meat into a ball. Not hard. It's not just gonna be sticking pasta in a pot and canned jar of sauce.

Tony's eyes flick up and down Clint because now he's not sure if he completely misunderstood what Clint was saying before, or if Clint was trying to talk him out of going because he's feeling guilty about Brandy being dragged around.

"Clint," he said, mimicking Clint's serious tone. "I had assumed today you were going to go alone. You started the day very positive. But you've been hit with a lot. So you tell me what you want me to do. Don't feel guilty about it either way. Brandy will be fine in the stroller if I come. We'll both be fine staying here. I want to support you and I'll do whatever thing you think will support you the best."

He meant it. If Clint thinks the meeting is too hard, or he's considering going to a bar instead, Tony's going. No questions asked. But if he needed the space, he could have it.

Tony's smiling again just hearing the sound of Brandy's giggling and Lucky's barks from his phone on the other side of the table. He would probably watch that video on a loop when he was having low days. "It's so good right? Oh my god, Clint. They were so adorable. I need to buy her a puppy because that was the cutest damned thing I've seen in my entire life."

Tony doesn't miss the babe. Clint punches down on it in a way that almost borderlines sarcasm and for a second he wondered if he'd done something wrong. Looking at Clint he can see he's trying out a pet name and seeing how it lands. The realization makes him feel warm inside, like a coal has been dropped into him and was heating him from the inside out. It's not even the pet name. Babe was fine. He used it from time to time himself, but it never quite felt right when he did. But the fact Clint's trying it out means that even if Tony hadn't been fully forgiven for buying the building and then lying about it, he would be. It definitely wasn't breaking them up. He reaches over the table and takes Clint's hand. "I am looking forward to my first cooking lesson, Cupid. So we're starting with spaghetti? Just boxed pasta?"

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

My Mother is fucking something else. I had just had a goddamn breakdown a decade ago and lost fucking everything. Then she cut me out of every family event, after I spent a fucking year in treatment to get better -- not therapy every couple weeks treatment, I'm talking psych wards, PHPs, residential facilities. For a goddamn year straight I did everything the doctors and therapists said (except go to Al-Anon, it makes me wanna throw chairs at dumb selfish bitches), took every pill without complaint, dealt with fucking judgment from shitty program people, went over the same sht so much I could teach it -- did teach in the psych ward during my stays in fact, I taught yoga as part of movement therapy.

Every time I was in anybof them it was because *I* put myself there -- because at my worst, I recognized when I was a danger from depression or manic delusions or insomnia for 5 days or too many flashbacks or dissociation episodes... not once did anyone have to force me or even convince me. I took my ass to the ER said, I'm a danger to myself I'd like to sign in.

Got done, learned to drive, got an apartment myself, maintained my med schedule religiously, kept it reasonably clean, maintained my regular check ins with my shrink.

I did EVERYTHING I was supposed to.

And then my mom cut me out of every family event -- I'd hear about it from my sister in law later.

When I confronted her about it being fucking hurtful to be left out of family Christmas, which had been my brother and me and our families from the time I moved out, she had the nerve to get passed at me and yell "I wanted to be able to enjoy one holiday without your fucking drama." (BTW, my suicidal ideation started at 7 and I begged for therapy and the bitch called me a drama queen. It took a suicide attempt that I flatlined during and a court order to keep me in weekly therapy until 18 to get it, and a threat to go straight to the cops with all 3 siblings willing to back me to stop the abuse).

Except it wasn't ONE holiday. She has seen me ONCE since 2014, and I was only invited then bc my oldest sister was in town and she insisted it was us both or neither.

A few years ago I gave her her goddamn wish. She didn't want to be burdened with my drama? Wish fucking granted, she was told I was blocking her and if she ever tried to contact me again, I'd file a restraining order, citing the many medical records documenting her abuse and her enabling of abuse.

She tried calling B and screamed at him for shit none of her business, so I unblocked to say if she ever spoke to my husband that way again, I'd make sure not only I got a restraining order but that everyone in her podunk town she was so concerned about their opinions knew every fucking sordid detail of my entire life under her roof -- I'd pull a goddamn Reynolds Pamphlet of my own.

She's now whining to my mother in law that I'm keeping the kids from her -- I never said fucking boo to them about whether they should talk to her, and they're fucking adults, I couldn't stop them if I wanted to. Hell, no one has ever able to stop my second from what he really wanted in his whole life -- not that my mother would know. They chose not to.

My mother in law keeps saying how she hopes we work it out. I'm like there's nothing to work out. She asked to not deal with my drama as she calls the mental illnesses she caused, so I granted her request and she'll never have to again.

[introvertedghostboy]

I got a call from Veronica, Laurie’s mom this morning which was nice. She wants me to attend a group with her on Monday night; like a church group so it sounds cool. We actually had seen each other recently. I do my best to visit Laurie’s grave every few months. I know it can seem odd to people but I sometimes go and sit there for awhile and I’ll talk to her. Ever since I was little my grandparents instilled in me to understand that even if they aren’t here physically they are protecting and watching over you. You can talk to them anytime. I used to help my grandmother take care of the family graves too; it was show of respect to make sure the grounds were well kept, flowers during the spring and fall;grave covers over the winter. I do my best to stick with that sentiment. Anyway, Laurie’s birthday was July 24; so I got some flowers and visited. Her mom was there the day I went so we sat for a while together.

Veronica hated me back when Laurie and I were together. I remember even at her wake she was very cold towards me. Laurie and I were young: I was 15; she was 17. And yeah I was out as trans to her and she was extremely great about it and we continued our relationship but her parents were extremely against us being together. Laurie was a senior and going to be leaving for college and we did our best to spend as much time together as we could (different High schools, sports,etc. were extremely time consuming but Laurie’s older sister helped us out. She was the only supportive older person in our lives; both our parents were extremely religious (we had both been in conversion therapy prior so there was that trauma) so it was definitely a tense situation. She died by suicide in September 2013 Her sister hadn’t heard from her and I couldn’t get a hold of her either; she came and picked me up from my lacrosse practice early and we headed over to their parents house. I attempted CPR while Maddie called the police. About an hour and 20 minutes later she was pronounced dead. Her parents were away for a few days in upstate NYC and Maddie called them on the way to the hospital. I’ll never forget Veronica’s breakdown at the hospital.

Around January 2021, I was recovering from my own suicide attempt and I had gotten an email from Veronica asking if we could meet. I stayed in touch with Maddie over the years but had never really interacted much with her mom anymore. Maddie actually called me weekly while I was at the inpatient rehab to see how I was doing. It meant a lot as it was a very pivotal point in my life in many aspects

Im definitely someone who is always open to meeting people from my past, even if it’s just for like closure or to even rekindle a connection. It can be months,years whatever; I’m open to it. I emailed her back. We met and had lunch together. It was a bit different but she apologized to me.After all these years, she had realized that I really did love her daughter. Sure we both had troubled pasts but i was one of the only things in Laurie’s life that was constant; even in her journal she shared with me a few things she wrote which made me get teary eyed. I apologized to her as well. Obviously as time has gone on things have changed and I’ve grown through a lot; it’s an ever-changing process and I wanted to express how even though we made mistakes back then I will always cherish her daughter and that we could move forward and remain in contact if she so wished to do so. And As much as Laurie had difficulties with her parents I know she truly loved them. Veronica and I check in with each other kinda regularly now which is nice. She’s become a sorta bonus mom to me; I update her on life things and our friendship means a lot. Maddie lives in CA now but she’s very appreciative of how I try my best to be there for her mom too.

Im excited to go with her to a church group meeting, it’s a bible study group. I’m not religious per se. I’m more spiritual and take a more eclectic approach to like my spiritual/religious studies and beliefs. I attended my grandfathers church with him pretty recently though; it’s a Christian inter denominational church and it’s more my vibe compared to what I grew up in- strict Catholic school till 8th grade with nuns and bi-weekly mass services - it’s more like going to a lecture hall vibe with modernized Christian music versus the rigidity of the masses I went to growing up. I’m open to both so it’s cool she wants me to go.

[argylemikewheeler]

July 1st, 1985

what the first ep of (my) s3 would look like if the main concept was: both Steve and Will are gay in 1985’s Summer of Love and the town’s enemy is a little more human; loving friendships, very confused adults, and Will Byers Actually Getting Help

“Harrington!”

“Yes, sir.” Steve looked up from his desk. He dropped his crossword and looked to be at attention; the police station’s phone wasn’t ringing, though, so there wasn’t really anything he should have been doing. Hopper stepped out of his office, angling himself toward the door rather than Steve’s desk island.

“Do you think you’ll be able to-- Harrington, what are you doing?” Hopper caught sight of the pocket thesaurus sitting on his desk (the last name written on the inside cover not belonging to Steve, of course). Hopper fixed his sunglasses on the edge of his nose, looking over them and down at Steve.

“I’m just, uh, working on my vocabulary.” Steve said. Hopper blinked twice, waiting. Steve wasn’t going to say the truth: he was dating-- well seeing someone-- way smarter than him. This wasn’t for joy or boredom. He was studying to impress. “It’s college prep, sir.”

“The crossword?” The chief evened his stare. “This your old man’s suggestion?” Of all the things Steve’s father was telling him to do with himself, he  wished  some of it was simply pecking at a crossword over a twelve hour shift.  Fucking off  and  being a better piece of shit son  just wasn’t feasible to accomplish in one summer.

“He swears by it.”

“Okay, well. Uh, moving on from that,” Hopper grabbed his hat from the coat rack. The topic of Steve’s father always made Hopper stiffen up; it was definitely the main reason Hopper gave Steve his job at the station, but it still created more questions. Steve knew Hopper and his father went to high school together, but he never asked his father about those years-- beyond his baseball glory stories. “I’ve got plans tonight and I need to head out early. Can you handle things on your own for a while. At least until the night shift comes in?”

“I’ll be fine.” Steve made sure not to acknowledge the crossword on his desk as he nodded. He was really good at his job, he was. He was also just, unfortunately, still a pretty shitty boyfriend and needed all the vocab help he could get. “What’s the pressing story?”

“I have dinner.” Hopper was already trying to walk out the door. “So ��don’t  call me. For the love of God.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Chief. I--” Steve was sure it was the cool July wind that slammed the door on the last half of his sentence. Not Hopper. “won’t... Have a good time, I guess.”

The police station was empty: it was another boring and wonderfully quiet Monday in Hawkins. There’d been some calls to break up disturbances at city hall in the past few days, but somehow everyone just seemed to agree that Mondays-- the longest shift of Steve's whole week-- was the day everyone went about their quietest day.

There were a few officers milling in and out of the back lounge and front door, casting a quick glance to Steve as he muttered and threatened fourteen down and six across. Nancy had been helping close the gaps of his post-high school education-- without knowing just what for-- but had been picking up most hours at the Post to try and elbow her way into their good graces; it put his tutoring on hold. So here he was, groaning at some clues about classical artists he’d never heard of.

There were other reasons Steve was sure the other officers thought he was odd-- things he was  sure  his father had passed along in spitting rants-- but Steve didn’t mind. No one said anything to his face.

“Hey Flo! Is, uh, is Steve here?” The question was asked with the answer already in mind.

Steve sat up in his chair, twisting around to see down the hall to the back entrance to the station. There weren’t many parking spots to fill, but he knew a certain someone who preferred it to street parking.

“Jonathan?”

“Oh, I hear him. Thanks-- hey!” Jonathan hurried out from the hall, his camera bumping against his stomach and bag slapping against his leg in the same rhythm. He’d gotten a new haircut recently: semi-wonky bangs and a closer cut in the back. All thanks to Steve’s peer pressure and Mrs. Byers’s kitchen shears.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to stop by your work like this--” he lowered his voice as he stopped at the corner of Steve’s desk. “I know we said we wouldn’t do that, but we got an extra muffin in the lunch order and I know you’re always starving after a Monday shift so.” Jonathan produced a folded brown paper bag from his satchel. “Here.”

“Oh, thanks.” Steve wanted to say so much more, but had to settle. No more. None of what they’d decided they wouldn’t say. Not until the summer had ended. They wanted to see if they lasted longer than the convenience of loose summer schedules.

“Won’t I see you, uh, later, though?” At eight, when Steve got sent home he always drove straight to Jonathan’s. Jonathan started late on Tuesdays and Steve had off; they had the time to waste. “Or is this your way of telling me to stay home?”

“No! No we’re still... hanging out.” Jonathan had gotten really good at cooking and treated Steve to weekly dinner. It was a nice gesture at first, but Steve started growing fond of the company. They both did around mid-June. “But, I think Mike’s going to be over so. Be  cool , alright? Keep it cool.”

“Cool, got it.” Steve leaned back in his chair. He moved his papers to leave a corner of his desk for Jonathan to sit on. No one was in the main office; it was a harmless invitation.

“I have to get going...” It sounded like an excuse, a dive for safety. “And I’m sure you have, um,  puzzles  to do?” Jonathan pretended not to be endeared. He tried, he really did. He  failed , but Steve pretended he didn’t notice.

“Don’t want to sit and help me figure out the title of Mozart’s last opera?” He patted the desk, daring to be more direct.

“I really have to go.” Jonathan was genuine, looking at his watch. “The Post only let me out early today because I have to go pick up Will from his doctor’s appointment.”

“Wait.” Steve put the cap back on his pen. “Isn’t Will’s therapy on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, but with Mom’s schedule and the store being all weird-- we had to move it to today. And you know we typically have a family night after-- so he feels okay, you know-- but we  can’t  . So,  that’s why Mike’s coming over. Hopefully they’ll be idiots and tire Will out and he’ll sleep okay.” Tension rose in Jonathan’s voice quickly, explaining his day as if going over a laundry list; never rehearsing it but having it memorized.

“I can stay home if you need time, Jonathan.”

“No, really. I want you to come over.” Jonathan sighed and placed his hand on the emptied spot on Steve’s desk. “Besides, you can’t break tradition after a little over  one month , then it was just a weird habit.”

Steve Harrington did not consider his summer fling a w  eird habit . If anything, it was the most sensical thing he’d done in a very long time. Even after getting rejected from all his colleges, and never hearing the end of his father’s lectures, 1985 had been very kind to him. And that was mostly due to Jonathan’s inherent nature to be the same.

“I’ll see you after eight.” Steve smiled and reached for his hand-- but averted to grab a piece of memo paper by the phone.

“I’m sorry to leave in a rush.” Jonathan hitched his bag up, checking his watch again. “I just, I really need to get going.”

“Don’t worry. The muffin is  more  than enough.” Steve said. “And seeing you wasn’t too bad either.”

“Slow day, huh?” Jonathan said. The corner of his mouth quirked with a flattered, embarrassed smile. Steve tried to act nonchalant, like he wasn’t so goddamn relieved to see a familiar and happy face. Especially  his  familiar and happy face. “Well, good thing I have another surprise for you.”

“You can barely fit your camera in that bag, what could you possibly-- hey!” Steve missed grabbing Jonathan’s arm as he walked away, heading for the front door. “Where are you going?” Jonathan kept walking, checking his watch the whole way. “Hello?”

“Delivered right on time.” Jonathan pushed the front door open to the station-- but was nearly knocked over as a green  dash  barreled through it.

"Steve! Steve! Steve!” The dash was suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders. “You got the job!”

“Henderson! Oh my god! You’re back!” In an unlikely impulse, Steve grabbed Dustin in a hug, taking advantage of the change of height. “Holy shit, I nearly forgot! First of the month!”

“See you, Steve.” Jonathan walked across the room to the back entrance again. His hand braced the back of Steve’s chair, brushing across his shoulders.

“O-Okay! Yeah, see you!” Steve sputtered, losing his reminded  cool  in an instant. “Bye.”

Dustin pulled away slowly. “What was that?” It looked like  everyone  was too smart for Steve.

“Nothing. He brought me a surprise lunch-- which was an  obvious decoy to the main event! You! How are you, buddy? How was camp?”

“Oh, it was fantastic. Steve, I  have  to show you all my inventions! Camp was the  best  four weeks  of  my  life .” Dustin hopped up onto the corner of his desk. His heels tapped against the empty metal drawers. He was jittery, nearly uncontainable, but still so composed-- if only to be focused all on Steve.

Steve held his hands out, letting him start. “Lay it on me, Henderson! I want to hear everything. I missed you like crazy.”

“Well, first, obviously. I have to tell you about my girlfriend--”

“Whoa! Whoa!  Girlfriend  ? That fast?” Steve hadn’t been expecting any of his dating advice to work. It had been coming from such a poor and confused part of himself, Steve figured it was destined to fail. Apparently, it was just  Steve  that was-- when flirting with women at least. “Damn, there’s something in you after all!”

“She’s  super  smart, Steve. I’ve never met any girl like her. She’s a genius and she’s so pretty. God, I miss her already-- and I  just  saw her.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. He knew the feeling. “That’s great, man. I mean, I’m super happy for you. Like, that’s  crazy . That’s freaking awesome.”

“So what about you? How are the ladies? I mean, you work for the  Chief  now. All the ladies you could need and more, am I right?”

Steve used to be really good at this part of the lie, but with Dustin it felt cheap. He didn’t need to lie to him, but that was the deal; no matter how much that person was Steve’s best and most beloved friend, their secret was a dead-bolt, vaulted secret.

“Eh, not too great. Only girl my own age I see-- besides Nancy, really-- is the night-shift girl, Robin. But she’s not really-- we’re just friends. She’s alright. Leaves me weird drawings in the memo pad.”

“Ooo, she sounds cool.” Dustin raised his eyebrows. “Do you know her from school?”

“Yeah, we didn’t really run in the same crowds but-- it’s not like that, man. It’s really not.” Steve started unwrapping his lunch. “It’s so not like that with Robin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not...  looking  at the moment.”

Steve had originally decided to not go looking for trouble. After he and Nancy split in the beginning of his senior year, he didn’t start looking for an immediate replacement. The illusion of thinking he was in love with Nancy-- capable of being in love with Nancy-- was a hard thing to have come crumbling down. Steve needed time to get his own bearings, to put his feet firmly on the ground, and have them lifted off when his father grabbed him by the lapels and--

Steve hadn’t gone looking for trouble. Hadn’t gone looking for love either. But somehow, both seemed to find him.

Jonathan was late. He usually wasn’t but Will was trying not to be worried. It was a different day than usual and he knew how awful Jonathan’s boss and co-workers were. Will tried not to be worried-- he wasn't. It was just that he had spent an hour talking about the night his father left their family; standing outside the doctor’s office was a bit nerve-wracking. It felt too familiar, even with all the talking and note-scribbling.

Finally, Jonathan’s car pulled into the lot. He was speeding, as much as his car  could  speed: he knew he was late, which made Will feel a little bit better. No one had forgotten him. It was just traffic or his bosses or maybe just hitting all the red lights. As Jonathan stopped in front of the curb and waved Will in, Will could see he was jittery-- he was  upset  that he was late. Will felt bad for counting the minutes.

Not that he did it out of impatience or anything. Will just formed the habit after getting his new watch. It matched Mike’s. Completely on accident, of course.

“Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. I was-- I had to run an errand really fast. How long were you waiting.” He moved his bag and threw it onto the backseat. Will would’ve held it on his lap.

“I wasn’t keeping track.” Will said, climbing into the passenger seat. Will wanted to ask if his bag had Jonathan’s camera in it. If everything was okay. He didn’t. It seemed like Jonathan had been in his therapy with Will, just as shaken up. “It’s okay. Thanks for getting me.”

Jonathan waited until Will put on his seat belt. “Of course. We’re always here to pick you up. Therapy is important; you have to go.”

Will laughed before he could stop himself. “You sound like Mom.”  Why?

“Because she’s right.” Therapy was still kind of weird to Will-- since  no one else  in his grade had to do it-- but he humored his family. It was helping, if he had to admit it. But it was still embarrassing sometimes.

His therapist, Dr. Bright--  Rose Marie, as she insisted on being called-- was a send-out from the Lab, but disguised within a private practice just outside of town. She was able to listen to Will talk about what he saw and felt during his time with the Mind Flayer without trying to commit him. Almost nothing was off limits. Almost nothing.

Will checked his watch again.

“Are you excited to see Mike tonight?” The question was pointed, but Will wasn’t sure why it made him nervous. “I mean, I feel like I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s always with El.”

Will was sure they  weren’t  dating. El was just on a year-long stint of self-discovery and, besides Max, Mike was the person she trusted the most to help make as many helpful mistakes as possible. He bought her books to read and new music to try. It was really sweet, seeing Mike take such big strides toward helping their friend. But there was also a part of Will that felt dejected:  his  sort of help had to be prescribed and couldn’t be replaced with a warm laugh from one Mike Wheeler.

Will was sick while his friends were growing.

“Is there something wrong?” Jonathan used to ask the question like Will was one trembling lip away from crying-- but this time, he asked it like Will had his hand on the door, seconds from jumping out. “Will, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Will nodded. “I’m fine. Just-- I talked a lot today and I’m tired.”

“Do you want to cancel with Mike--”

“No.” Will had been looking forward to having time with Mike--  just  Mike-- for a whole week. He wanted to sit on his floor with his best friend and be a kid again. Just for the night-- maybe draw some of Mike’s old campaigns or sketch out an idea for his own. He just wanted to remember something good about the past four years. After his hour with Dr. Bright, it all felt painful. Like his childhood naivety had been broken and every conversation he overheard in his house dripped with venom and disdain.

Will didn’t like picturing his house that way. It was a place that loved and raised him, a place he felt safe. He didn’t like thinking the conversations he heard being screamed through the walls were trapped in the drywall.

His arms felt heavy and his chest felt like it was made of metal-- he kept tasting it in his mouth. Will leaned back against the seat and reached for the radio. Jonathan turned it down before Will had even changed the station.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I just want to see Mike.” Will said, his mouth too honest and his mind shrouded in guilt. “I just want to see my friend.”

“Okay. Okay.” Jonathan nodded somewhat somberly. “I understand. Let’s go pick him up. He’s at his house right? Not El’s-- o-or The Sinclair’s or anything?”

“No. He’s at his.” Will crossed his arms and tried to find the loose string-- the thing that could uncoil Jonathan’s still-tightening anxiety. “Are you still dating Nancy?”

Jonathan turned to look at Will, nearly crashing the car. That was the wrong string. “What?”

“Nancy? Are you still dating her?”

“I was never dating Nancy.” Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not dating Mike’s sister, don’t worry.” The clarification was strange and felt off-topic. Like Jonathan was trying to talk about something else.

“I thought you were. You guys hung out a lot during school.” Will heard her voice through the walls too. Always gentle, never yelling. Except when she was losing at playing cards. Then she shouted.

“She was helping me pass chemistry. That’s all.” Jonathan turned the radio up a little. Will checked his watch. “And then she helped me apply to the Post internship-- she’s great at writing papers, did you know that? A real wordsmith. Is Mike a writer too?”

He was, he  really  was. Grammatically, Will ran out of red pens trying to help, but creatively? Will envied Mike’s ability. “I don’t know. We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff like you two do… Since you two are dating.”

“We’re  not .” Jonathan laughed. Will took advantage of an upcoming stop sign to lean forward and look at his brother’s crimson face. “We’re not, Will, okay? We’re really not. I’d tell you.”

“You’d tell me?”

“Of course! I’d tell you if I… I had a girlfriend. Which I don’t!” He stayed at the stop sign for a bit too long. “Do you?”

There was an option to play dumb, to make Jonathan ask more directly:  do you have a girlfriend, Will ? but it sounded far more painful than being honest, than being as lonely as he was.

“No. I don’t.”

“And you’d tell me. If you were dating someone?” Jonathan looked at Will, hopeful but scarcely so. “You’ll tell me if anything big happens in your life?”

“Yeah.” There wouldn’t be anything happening at all that summer, that was for  damn sure . “Absolutely.”

Steve had about seventy percent of his puzzle done-- fifty of which was because Dustin was an unstoppable genius with no tolerance for Steve’s careful pace. It was just about quarter past seven, and Steve’s back was getting sore from sitting in his chair all day. He only liked sitting when it was in his car, on his way to the Byers's House, careful, of course, to obey all traffic laws.

Steve was packing his crosswords and pens up in the top drawer of his desk when something clattered the back door open. Steve grabbed a pen and whipped around in his seat, as if to wield it like a weapon.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“Hey dingus.” Luckily, Steve couldn’t even see Robin yet-- or rather, she couldn’t see him or his emphasized eye roll. She could hear him groan though. “Hey, shut up and quit whining. I’m sending you home early.”

Her head popped out from the hallway. Robin’s ponytail was high on her head, the hair flopping over and getting caught in her stringy bangs. She flung her backpack out from behind her and tossed it toward Steve. She wasn’t in her uniform yet, only wearing the buttoned up shirt-- unbuttoned and showing her torn and dyed shirt underneath. She was wearing jogging shorts, her knees torn up and covered with Band-Aids. They reminded Steve of the ones taped to his face after getting a plate smashed into his forehead. Deceivingly cheerful.

“What are you doing here early?” Steve stood and followed her, holding her backpack awkwardly in his hands. “You’re  never  early.” Eight on the dot. Every time.

“I figure you want to get out of here tonight.” She didn’t even stop to look at Steve as they walked into the back room. “Probably want to see your boyfriend.”

Her words weren’t sharp, but Steve still recoiled. He let his arms, and her bag, hang by his sides.

“Who? Jonathan?” The only way Jonathan and Robin had ever met was in the hallways of Hawkins High. She definitely never saw them interact at the station-- or on any of their nights together: they were always indoors. “He’s  not my boyfriend.”

“First off, I didn't even say a name." Shit. "Second, he came in the other day looking for you.” Robin started buttoning her shirt up, fixing the collar as she finally turned to see Steve. “He was really upset-- didn’t even know what time it was to know you weren���t working.”

“Upset?” Technically, it wasn’t Steve’s problem. It was the deal; they didn’t  have  to care about each other’s lives. It was just summer. It was just like any other summer.

“Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.” Robin sounded extremely sympathetic despite beginning to change her pants. Steve whipped around, covering his face. “You should go see him. Make sure he’s okay. Be a good boyfriend... shithead.”

“He’s  not--”

“Steve, I’m the last person you should be arguing with.” Robin laughed-- and it was only momentarily threatening. Until, of course, Steve realized what she meant.

Like all good secrets kept at Hawkins PD, Steve kept his mouth shut and nodded even if she wasn’t looking.

“Yes, sir--ma'am-- Robin.”

“So, are you going to go or what, dingus?” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Get out of here-- and tell me all about it Wednesday.”

Steve blinked at her, holding out her bag. As if it was enough thanks to give her back her own property. “Are we… friends, or something?”

“No, of course not.” She winked, slapping his arm. “Just looking out for one of my own.”

After picking Mike up from his house, they drove home in uncharacteristic chatter. Jonathan was the only one speaking, humming along to the radio. Will was exhausted beyond performative small talk; the type that had to be done between two best friends when a third party was present. Mike was great at just sitting with Will in silence, but Jonathan didn’t know that. Instead, the three of them passed around quiet jokes and laughter, answering questions about their friends for Jonathan’s upkeep of information.

Once they got in the house, Jonathan let them wander off into Will’s room as he started pulling pots out of the kitchen cabinets. He wouldn’t bother or pester them about any summer work, either. They would be left alone in their own coupled silence.

Mike was sitting cross-legged on Will’s floor, twisting one of Will's crayons between his fingers. Will needed new ones but he felt funny asking for them as a near-freshman in high school. He liked the glide of wax on paper compared to the scrape of colored pencils. Well, that and the fact he ruined half of his crayons the year prior making a full map of Hawkins in a fugue state and only had two crayons able to be used normally.

“You had doctor stuff today, right?”

Will was digging under his bed for his emptier sketch book. “Yeah. Therapy.  Doctor  doctor stuff was two weeks ago.”

“How was it?” Mike let his hand still and rest in his lap. “Like, what do you do in therapy? Just start talking?”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. You have to think about stuff too. Doctors ask you questions, sometimes.” Will pulled back and drug his old drawing supplies along the carpet. He sat back on his heels and was able to see Mike over the top of the bed. He didn’t know Will was looking. “You have to have answers.”

“What do they ask about?” Mike kept looking at his hands, unaware of Will. “Upside down stuff?”

“Sometimes.” Will shuffled back around to Mike's side of the bed. He could feel the tiniest bit of rug burn starting. “She asked me about my dad today.”

Mike looked up, almost immediately. “Can she do that?”

“Why can’t she?” Will popped the lid on the retired Tupperware, now his art bin. “I talked about it.”

“I thought you didn’t like to.” Will had never said those words which meant Mike had gathered it from just observing him. “Did you… like talking about it?”

“Not really.” Will laughed. He found a few extra crayons, but of all the wrong colors. “She had this big speech afterward about learned helplessness that I… really didn’t like.” Will tried to keep laughing.

Mike put the crayon back in the bin. “Are you okay, Will?”

“Yeah. It’s just… the same old stuff.” Will shrugged. “Sometimes it just bothers me more than other days.”

Mike bit the inside of his cheek, picking at his words carefully. “You never talk about your dad, Will.”

“Why would I?”

“Because it bothers you. You can talk about anything you want-- I… I would listen.”

“You don’t have to listen to it just because it happened to me, you know. My therapist says you don’t have to experience things with me for them to be real.”

“But I want to know.” Mike looked insulted, almost crushed and collapsed as he sat back on his hands. “That’s your dad,” he said. “And you’re my friend.”

They sat in silence for a while. Mike went back to studying a new crayon, picking at the wrapper. Will felt something forming in his throat. A bubble that was hot, thick and sticky. Not vomit, but not impending tears either.

“I don’t get why he left.” Will said. “I don’t know what happened to our family.”

“Nothing happened. Maybe he just… wasn’t good at being your dad anymore.”

“But then why? What did I do?” Will didn’t want to ask Mike, make him feel responsible for answering, but Will was desperate to ask the universe again.

“Nothing.” Mike said. “I just think he…”

“He what? My dad got tired of me? Didn’t want to raise me?”

“Maybe he actually learned how to take a hint and knew he wasn’t good enough for you and Jonathan-- or your mom.” Mike wanted to be hopeful, to be positive, so badly. He ached, his smile tight and weak. He didn't have the answers, and who was Will to put him in the position to come up with them.

“So he gave up.” Will said.

“That’s not what I meant--”

“I know. I know… That’s just how it feels.” Will shrugged. He smiled at Mike, accepting his help and his warmth. It hurt knowing that Mike was wrong, but still. Will could always pretend a little longer. Anything for Mike.

“Hey! You monsters hungry?” Steve clapped his hands together before gently tapping the door. “Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

The door was open. Steve didn’t have to knock. He wanted to, just to prove he wasn’t  too  comfortable, but he also knew Mike was over. And knocking would announce his entrance rather than letting it just be something that just  was  . Rather than being  cool .

Awkwardly and with a lot of weird, throat-clearing fanfare, Steve opened the Byers’s front door and poked his head inside. Jonathan called him in from the kitchen without even needing to say hello, or being surprised by his walking in:  In here, Steve! Dinner’s almost done .

Steve walked through the living room carefully, as if he’d disturb it. There was a tape playing softly-- some band Steve’s never heard of, but didn’t hate. He’d grown to like the way that every song played in the Byers house was always moody and melancholy. The music was always the opposite of how he felt stepping into the kitchen.

Jonathan was at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. He had what looked to be tomato sauce stains on the front of his shirt-- where he wrapped his hand up to open the sauce jar. Steve was able to hide his smile as he shouldered off his uniform jacket and toed off his shoes, claiming a chair at the kitchen table.

“How was work?” Jonathan didn’t stop stirring. He moved like the stove was turned all the way up and he was afraid of burning the food. He spoke that way too.

“It was fine. Not a whole lot.” Steve didn’t want to have anything seem bigger than whatever upset Jonathan-- and seemed to still be upsetting him now. “How was your day?”

“Fine. Will and Mike are in the other room.” He was checking things off his list. Steve stepped up to Jonathan and stood even with him at the stove. He was making one-pot pasta. It really did smell fantastic. Steve was so hungry, even after his lunch.

“How was… the other things in your day? Develop any good pictures?” Steve covered how stupid he sounded by placing his hand on Jonathan’s lower back.

Jonathan stopped stirring and looked at him. Steve tried to keep cool, tried not to show his motives-- his attempt to calm something he couldn’t believe he’d missed spinning out of control, even if he didn’t know what it was. “Nancy walked into the dark room today-- she’s actually the one who gave me the muffin-- and she exposed the photos to light too early. So no, actually.”

Steve really was a bad boyfriend. Even when he wasn’t one yet-- or at all.

“Okay… how was. Everything else?”

“You don’t have to ask about my day, Steve. It’s okay.” Jonathan sighed and spoke evenly. “I’m just a little tired. Really. We don’t have to do the whole…  thing .”

The whole thing where Steve was explicit about how much he really cared about Jonathan and admitted he was sincerely and terrifyingly in love with Jonathan.

“I was asking because I was curious. Not out of obligation.” Steve clarified. His hand slid to rest on Jonathan’s hip. He moved closer, lips aiming to place a commitment-less kiss on his cheek.

“Steve! I said to keep it  cool .” Jonathan ducked back, placing a hand on Steve’s chest. “I don’t want Will to see us.”

“Your brother?” Steve was surprised; of all people Jonathan explicitly wanted to hide from Will seemed kind and forgiving-- not that there was anything  to  forgive, but it was something Steve often checked for. Steve was sure that one of Dustin’s friends would be… like Steve. Or like Jonathan-- maybe. All of them seemed prepared to deal with any of their friends suddenly being different. Far more prepared than Steve ever was.

“Yes. My brother.” Jonathan snapped, banging the spoon against the edge of the pot. “I don’t want him to learn I’m not dating Nancy but  instead  seeing her ex-boyfriend in the same day.” he whispered.

“Wait, what? He thinks you’re with Nancy?” Steve wasn’t sure where they went wrong. They were trying to  obscure  the truth, not lead everyone to a different reality. “D-Do you think Mike does too?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t want to ask and seem weird.” Jonathan sighed again. He sounded tense again. “I told Will I’d tell him if I was seeing anyone… And he promised me the same.”

Steve knew not to press the obvious question-- well   are  you seeing someone, Jonathan?  -- but also didn’t want to touch the obvious implication that Will  needed  to share a secret with Jonathan. Instead, he placed his hands into his pockets and turned to lean against the counter.

“Dinner smells really good, Byers.” There was another name that began with “B” that Steve wasn’t allowed to use, but always wanted to. Byers Byers Byers. Baby baby baby. “Thank you, again, for cooking for me-- for us.”

“You think I’m going to let you starve?” His stirring slowed; the stove cooled down. He nudged Steve’s arm with the spoon. “You coming home late and trying to cook? You mean half-drinking a beer and falling asleep face down on your bed in your uniform, half unbuttoned.”

“You picture that often, Byers?” Steve lifted an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Jonathan’s lips quirked into a smile again. “But, if you’d like a beer, I think there’s one in the fridge. No one in the house is going to touch it.”

“I can go ask Will if he wants it.”

“Shut up-- do you want it or not?”

“No.” Steve didn’t like drinking when they were together. He’d never really heard the full story about where Mr. Byers went, but he had a father of his own to make those blank spaces fill pretty fast. “But thanks. Don’t want the habit of needing a beer to forget how boring my job is.”

“I thought you liked your job?” Jonathan took a piece of pasta out of the pot and held it out for Steve to test.

He chewed and answered. “I do! It’s nice to have normal hours-- and I’m happy to help have replacements as Flo gets ready to retire but… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels  boring .”

“Would you rather be chasing down a four-legged monster without a face?” Jonathan let out a bubble of genuine laughter, playfully glaring at Steve.

“Frankly, yes! At least we’d all have something to do. I feel like I don’t see everyone anymore.”

“Then throw a party. Don’t wish for anything bad to happen.” Jonathan said firmly. “Let the record show my brother is a very strange magnet for all this… weird shit.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Steve said solemnly. He put his hand on Jonathan’s forearm. “I wish we were all safely doing something exciting. It felt nice to be needed, even if no one knew it was us.”

Jonathan put the spoon down on the counter and pivoted to be looking only at Steve. There was something resting just on the tip of his tongue, just under the surface of their conversation. It would’ve been a digression-- Steve could tell by Jonathan’s tense and furrowed brow-- but he would’ve listened.

“Jonathan?” Steve squeezed his arm, lifting his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“I--” He clenched his jaw, trying to swallow his words. “I think--” Steve knew there was no end to Jonathan’s sentence; merely starting it meant there was trust between them. A careful admission through omission. Steve knew Jonathan was looking at his shoes and wouldn’t be seen as he took in the secret flinches of Jonathan’s face. The crinkle by his left eye, the twitch of his mouth, double blinking--

They both jumped apart as the phone started ringing, practically shaking on the wall. Jonathan stepped away from Steve and left everything unsaid. Again.

Jonathan tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he turned to lean against the wall.

“Hello? This is--” His face changed sharply, his eyebrows furrowing. “I told you to stop bothering us. You’re lucky she’s not here to pick up the phone-- I don’t  care !” Jonathan cleared his throat and looked at Steve in a flash of uncertainty and anxiety. “I have the police here right now and if you don’t stop calling me I will send them to your house-- it’s not a threat if you’re the one bothering us. Stop. Calling.” He slammed the phone down and braced his weight against the wall with his other hand.

“Am I considered ‘the police’ now?” Steve said lightly. It was his way of letting Jonathan know he was listening, but not asking direct questions. “I’m not even allowed to have a badge.”

“It counts.” Jonathan said, letting his arms fall down by his sides. Steve stepped over and kept stirring dinner.

“Who was that?”

“No one. Can you go get the boys in the other room? Dinner’s ready.” Jonathan pushed Steve aside to hunch over the stove again.

“Sure.” Steve nodded, knowing he wasn’t seen. “Hey! You monsters hungry? Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

Dinner felt weird.

Will couldn’t help but feel like he and Mike had gotten into a fight. Talking about his dad made anything feel sticky, feel like it was violent or volatile. A second from snapping or tearing off, bouncing around the walls and echoing in Will's body. A small conversation between friends-- actually a little  understanding  between  best  friends-- felt like it had been a screaming match, all because it was cut off. There was no apology from Will. He didn't have the chance to tie it all up with an  I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, forget I said anything.

His plea sat heavy on his tongue as he talked to Steve-- who had arrived without notice-- and let Mike make him laugh so hard he nearly shot water out his nose. Will let it all happen under the tremor, the ache, of an apology. And maybe, if he was the best brother and friend he should’ve been, no problems or therapy, it would be enough of an apology.

He wasn't hungry and only ate half his serving of pasta, even though it was usually his favorite of Jonathan's recipes. He did apologize for that though, and it felt right to say aloud. Even if it was misdirected and no one heard it.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so so sorry. Please come back--

Mike wasn’t tired, Will knew, but he still wanted to go to bed right after their horror movie ended. It was clear Mike hadn't been paying attention to the movie; the entire plot was that dreams were a new horror-scape for monsters to get teenagers. It wasn't too scary to Will; it just felt familiar. The villain looked different, more human, but Will knew what it felt like to dream while wide awake. To watch and be unable to do anything but scratch at the surface--

Convincing Will to get ready for bed, Mike said they’d have all day in the morning. He said that maybe he could convince his mom to let him stay over again if they don’t get all their fun in. Will knew Mike's mom probably would, if only because she felt bad for Will. But he would take the pity. A sleepover wasn't the worst thing to get from pity.

Will could still hear Mike fidgeting in his sleeping bag. He was rubbing his feet together like a cricket and twisting his wristwatch. The plastic scratched the sheer material of his sleeping bag rhythmically: back and forth. back and forth. backandforthbackandforth. It was like Mike was counting the ticks of his silent digital watch. Will began to play with his own watch, keeping it on in bed only because he'd noticed Mike hadn't removed it when they were brushing their teeth that night; apparently the watch was too good to part with.

Time though, was something Will wished he could separate himself from. He could hear the seconds scraping by now. Every moment he kept his friend awake and bored because Will was too weak or (rather and) too  everything  to stay up late again.

Therapy hadn’t even been that bad. Not really. Maybe it could be exhausting but it didn’t count because Will sat in the same spot for an hour. It wasn’t real work. It shouldn’t have counted. Will should’ve been able to hang out with his friend until sunrise, getting in trouble with his mom for being up so late. He should’ve still been a stupid, carefree kid, not a by-gone troubled teenager.

Maybe his dad had seen that from the beginning. Will's dad was always gambling, betting on baseball games he had these incredible "feelings" on. Sometimes he was wrong, but when he was right it was an amazing prediction; having the foresight no one else had. And maybe that was what it was, leaving them when he did. Maybe he saw Will wouldn’t be the second son he wanted after all. Maybe he knew of all the damage that would be done to him, the damage he would cause. Probably saw it from miles-- years-- away. And he left without a single warning to any of it.

What if his father had known? Could've known where he was when he came back into town two years ago? Not gone forever just in the lights. Just out of reach, just through the wall, Dad. What if he had known, been able to see, able to know, but wanted to leave Will Down there being possessed and enveloped and consumed and--

Will felt a chill scurry down his back. The feeling almost had legs. Too many. He felt ice cold, his body going blank-- not numb, but  blank -- for a second. He couldn’t feel his fingers, but could still feel every inch of his body, suddenly pulsing and seizing.

"Will?" Mike asked, sitting up. He gripped the end of the bed and pulled his face closer to Will's. He squinted in the darkness, feeling for Will’s hand. Will couldn’t answer, his jaw tense and breath rattling out of him. "Will, what’s wrong?"

After a (thankfully) non-awkward dinner, Steve and Jonathan washed all the dishes and let the boys watch whatever movie they wanted. Steve didn’t pay attention to what tape he put in the VRC. He was too busy thinking about the hands hidden in the warm soapy water in the kitchen sink. Neither Mike nor Will seemed too bothered by the  disgusting  amount of blood or the scary blade man on the TV. He felt no regret letting them go to bed right after the credits rolled. Jonathan had looked exhausted after putting the last dish away, and dozed off during the climax of the movie-- even slept through the high-pitched screaming.

They waited for the sound of Will’s door closing over before they got into bed.

Jonathan flopped onto his back, a pillow resting between his chest and crossed arms. Steve laid on his side, bracing his weight on his elbow. He poked at Jonathan's furrowed eyebrow lightly.

"What's the problem, Byers?"

"Nothing."

"You are not a really great liar, you do know that right?" That and Steve could still hear Robin's blasé recounting of Jonathan's distress.  Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.

Jonathan sighed and turned to look at Steve. He hated being called out. "It's about Will."

"What's wrong with Will? He seemed alright at dinner."

"Yeah, but," Another sigh. "Steve, I think my brother’s gay."

Steve's first response was swallowed and he nodded. "Okay. Okay. And, um, what's the issue with that?" He adjusted himself on the bed, hoping there was more subtlety in that.

"I can't talk to him about it. I mean," Jonathan smiled and reached to touch his face. "This is a very different thing than being fourteen and confused."

"Who says he's confused?"

"I don't mean with himself-- the rest of the world is so confusing, Steve. You see the news... I can't talk to him. I didn't grow up like that. And being with you is... Different. We dated girls before. Will... I don't know. I think he knows already."

"You think he's got feelings for--"

"Oh absolutely." Jonathan nodded, closing his eyes. "Oh, I'm so glad it's not just me who sees it."

"Hopefully Wheeler does too."

"Hey, keep your voice down, he's only a few rooms over ."

"Sorry. Sorry. Me and my big mouth " Steve rested his head on Jonathan's shoulder. "Shut me up, maybe."

"Not until my mom gets back." Jonathan said, rolling up onto his side too. "If I catch her when she comes in the door, she won't come into my room to say good night. I can't have you distracting me until then."

"Your mom is on a date. She's an adult and so are you." Steve kissed Jonathan's shoulder. "You are a working man who just finished a long day at work-- I think you can cuddle up with your boyf--" Steve choked on his own stupidity, feeling his face go red and charisma die on impact. "With me."

"I will. Once my mom is back." Jonathan kissed Steve, as if a parting promise. Only to backtrack on his words immediately. He tucked Steve’s hair back behind his ear, his hands trying not to hold his face. “No--  no . Steve, not until my mom gets back.”

“I can keep an ear out--” As Steve spoke, the power in his bedside lamp dimmed. The power hummed quietly before flickering back up. Jonathan tensed and pushed himself up in bed.

“Did you see that?”

“Yeah, it was just the light, Byers. It’s windy out tonight, maybe a tree brushed a powerline.” Steve pushed Jonathan back down to his pillow-- and back into his own skin again. “It’s  nothing  . What if I turn out the light? Your mom won’t even  see  us in here.”

“No. No, I have to wait for her.”

“What if she doesn’t come back?”

“What!” Jonathan jerked upright again.

“I  meant  what if she’s at Hopper’s or something?” Steve shrugged. “She’s an adult.”

“Steve, that’s my  mom .” Jonathan hissed, swatting at the hand resting on his shoulder.

“I  meant  because she drove there on her own. If she had some wine, maybe she stayed somewhere and is being a smart, responsible parent.” Steve soothed. “Something you don’t have to be right now. You’re not Will’s parent and you aren’t your own. Lay down, will you?”

Jonathan was reluctant, but let Steve ease him back down again. He pulled the pillow tighter to his chest and sighed, his crossed arms sinking deeper. Steve laid down beside him, nose gently touching the end of his shoulder. As he breathed, his short exhales tickled Jonathan’s skin and got him giggling. It was Steve’s secret trick; something that always worked because Jonathan didn’t know it was a pattern-- didn’t know he was ticklish.

“Sorry I was weird today.” Jonathan said suddenly. He wasn’t even grinning.

“What?” They didn’t apologize. There was no need. “You’re worried about stuff-- it’s okay.”

“No, I like our dinners. And I was so uptight. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Steve didn’t know what to do with the sentiment. “Apology accepted?”

Jonathan sighed again, blowing it out slowly between his pressed lips. “Lonnie called today.”

“L- your  dad ? Is that who was on the phone?” Steve wasn’t sure what came over him-- or his body-- as he placed an arm over Jonathan’s waist and pulled them together. There was something unspokenly intimate talking about abusive fathers while being nearly sutured together in bed, but Steve pretended he was just having problems hearing Jonathan correctly.

“Yeah.” Jonathan turned, his nose brushing Steve’s. “Said he wants custody of Will. He doesn’t trust Mom, he said.”

“How is he-- He can’t do that.”

“He’s going to try. I don't know where it came from. He still thinks he can win a case because the news says Will just  disappeared into the woods . Like he ran away from us or something.”

“Everyone knows that’s not true.”

“A court might not.” Jonathan sighed, ducking his head down. Steve resisted lifting his chin to hook it over Jonathan’s head, nestling him into his neck. He laid still, listening to his breathing and the gentle creaking of the house--

Jonathan's door was thrown open, both men sitting up quickly, ready to defend themselves and their actions. It was Mike, in his pajamas with his hair sticking out in wild curls. Will stood just behind him in the hallway looking far more awake. Stilted and untousled.

"Mike?"

"Jonathan, quick!"

"What is it?" Jonathan swung his legs around and motioned both boys to come in. "Will?" Mike pushed him into the center of the door frame, although he remained in the hallway, in the light. Will’s hand grabbed at the back of his neck. His face was blank and his eyes were distant.

"Something's wrong." Will said slowly, blinking to focus. "I feel him."

"Feel who?" Jonathan kneeled in front of Will, holding his shoulders. "Feel who, Will?"

"Dad."

[ah-ga-seven]

Till The End of Summer - Chapter 14 (The Finale)

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 12,3K

Idol Cameos: NCT Johnny, ITZY Ryujin, ATEEZ Wooyoung, Stray Kids Hyunjin, Enhyphen Sunghoon, Heesung and Jay.

Genre:  Fluff, SMUT, angst if you squint.

Warnings: explicit mature content, I put a bolded warning sign at the start and end of it so you can skip through if you want.

Month 1.

Yeonjun went back home to save the reputation of Choi Enterprises by dealing with Lita’s attempt to overthrow him and his mother.  

Apparently, she did a lot more than the things she was locked up for initially. 

Lita and her husband bribed members of the board, making promises they obviously couldn’t keep. “When we have the company, the world is yours” but those days never came. and the board members that were bribed were fired effective immediately.

Each and every one of them got disposed of, with their assets included like they were last weeks’ trash. And if that wasn’t enough, Lita’s unjustified psychosis stemmed from the fact that she used to sleep with Yeonjun’s father. Lita felt like she was entitled to the Choi’s fortunes because according to her; the only woman Daniel Choi ever loved, was her.  

The revelation had Yeonjun sick to his stomach as he sat next to his mother in court. Lita looked at him with pleading eyes, claiming to really love him as her own son before the judge announced her 15-year prison sentence for fraud, spying, embezzlement, and attempted murder.

Somehow Yeonjun felt nothing as he looked at her. He really didn’t. If anything, he was glad to close this chapter of his life for good, and look ahead of the road to recovering his soul.

You, on the other hand, were completely overwhelmed with your new surroundings. You threw yourself into your work to forget about your heartache and didn’t dare to talk to Yeonjun in case it’d open up your wounds again. It would cause for you to lose focus, and you simply couldn’t afford that distraction right now.

Month 2

The first month passed without any contact between the two of you, but that changed when you wished him a happy birthday. His heart thumped in his chest on his way to his 6th therapy session as he looked at your message. 

He was even more surprised to see that you sent him a cute card with a Polaroid picture of the two of you; all happy and smiley in the park.  

It was reassuring to him that you were still thinking of him, and that you hadn’t completely forgotten about him or moved on so easily, because lord knows he hadn’t.

When you asked him about Lita’s trial a few days after his birthday, you two started to slowly talk again from time to time. You’d check up on each other and made small talk, but it was nothing like it used to be.  

There was no depth, and the core of your conversations always had to do with how both of your studies were going, if you were taking care of yourselves or if you’ve had dinner already.  

You both figured it was for the better this way, otherwise your break up would have been for nothing if you didn’t use this time apart from each other to heal, especially since you promised to be better individually so you could be even better together.

If that was still what both of you wanted upon your return of course.

He missed you so much, and he was finding it incredibly hard not to check your socials at least once a day, especially when he realized how male-dominated your studies were at Brown.

Your Instagram feed and stories indicated that you were having the time of your life when you could. You were happy despite the crazy hours you spent in a lab with your research team. A team that quickly became your new group of friends at the University.  

There were 2 other guys and one other girl in your team. The girl’s name was Giselle, you seemed to be the closest to her out of all of them. One of the guys was named Chanhee who was quite obviously gay, therefore not a threat. But the second guy, Hwang Hyunjin… let's just say that Yeonjun wasn't a fan.

Month 3

Your almost daily texts and calls with your friends back home started to shift to communication on a weekly basis.  

It was hard to keep up with your friends back home while having to entertain a new friend group here, all while you spent hours upon hours in the lab, working on a possible treatment for neurological disorders.  

You knew that whatever you were getting yourself into with this exchange was going to be hard, but you didn’t imagine it to be this hard and frankly, you were feeling incredibly homesick by now.

You missed Soobin, the boys, Mia…Yeonjun. And one time when you came home at 10 PM after a long day that started at 8 AM; you broke down on the phone when Soobin called to check in on you.

He was so shocked at your tears that he was ready to jump on a plane, but you stopped him from doing so. Knowing that you needed to push through and confide in the friends you made, whom you’ve started to hang out with a lot more, especially with Hyunjin.  

He reminded you a lot of Soobin, the way he was gentle yet in for dumb shit matched well with your own personality, and hanging out with him felt liberating. He introduced you to his friends and spent time with you and your lab partner and roommate Giselle whenever he could, which made your time at Brown a lot more bearable than you had anticipated.

Yeonjun was slowly starting to enjoy life again. He caught up with his studies, kept going to therapy, had regular calls with his mother, and spent time with his friends whenever he could. He started to pick up his neglected hobby of dancing again, finding comfort in the art form with Wooyoung and his crew.

Month 4

Yeonjun’s mother sold Choi Enterprises. She was completely done with the company as it wasn’t hers to begin with. The stock prices had risen for the first time since Daniel’s death paired with the whole Lita ordeal, so she took the chance to get rid of her past with a simple transaction.

She consulted Yeonjun about selling the company and the house he grew up in, for which he agreed, glad that they could finally close that dark chapter of their lives while getting a fresh start with new surroundings.  

With all of this newly acquired money, she opened a new headquarters of her own luxury fashion brand, closer to Yeonjun; only an hour away to be exact.  

She was determined to be a better mother and get to know her son, and the only way to do so was by actually trying. He was happier now that the burden of having to take over Choi Enterprises one day fell off of his shoulders.  

For the first time in a long time, he held the reigns to his own future again and his mother assured him that she’d support whatever he wanted to do in life both mentally and financially.

From there on out things started to look up for them.  

They went on café dates every Sunday, and sometimes he’d visit her for an entire weekend where they would bond by cooking or shopping together. 

During one visit, Yeonjun helped her pick some pieces for Fashion week, which made her pleasantly surprised by Yeonjun’s out of the box and daring passion for fashion. She suggested he’d take a minor in fashion design next to his regular Business studies and after giving it a good thought, he did, enjoying it a little more than he thought he would.

Month 5

You were doing better too. The hard part of your research was over with, and you had a well-deserved break which you spent with Giselle, Chanhee, and Hyunjin. You decided on having a mini-vacation and go sightseeing, rent an Airbnb somewhere in the state, and just chill.

Everything was fine until the last night of your trip, where you got shitfaced drunk and ended up sleeping with Hyunjin.  

You were single, so there was no reason to feel guilty, especially since the last time you even talked to Yeonjun was over a month ago, yet you still did.  

Of course, you had to talk to Mia about it, who only told you to remember that when you’d return in a month; you’d probably never see Hyunjin again, and that was enough for you to start distancing yourself from him.

The guy obviously had feelings for you, and you felt bad for friend-zoning him after being intimate with him, but the fact of the matter was that you just didn’t feel the same way about him. None of it would matter in a few weeks anyway, because you’d be heading back home, to your friends...and to Yeonjun.

Month 6  

Brown had offered you to stay and finish your studies at their facilities but you kindly declined. The experience was great, but you couldn’t put yourself through one more year of this type of curriculum, and you desperately wanted to see your friends' faces again by going back to the place you’ve called home for the past three years.

To your new-found friends’ disappointment, you were getting ready to leave as the weeks passed, packing your things little by little and meeting up with all of the people you met one last time before parting ways for good.  

It felt bittersweet though. Not only did you learn a lot about neuroscience, but you learned a lot about yourself as well. You grew as a person, matured, and blossomed by being more independent. Not having Soobin or your other friends to fall back on really pushed you to become more self-dependent, which was one of the perks of being away from them for so long.

You respected yourself and put yourself first and promised that that’d be a piece of knowledge that you’d be taking back home too.

Now.

Yeonjun couldn’t believe half a year had passed already. But what he really couldn’t believe was that he’d be seeing you again tonight.  

He stood in your apartment with the guys and Mia, organizing your things and cleaning up the place for your surprise welcome home party. Being in there felt weird, almost foreign to be exact.

It’d been half a year since he stepped foot in here, and even though you were gone for so long, the place still smelled like you. If it wasn’t for the empty shelves, missing bedsheets, and plastic covers over your furniture; it’d almost seem like you never really left.

He opened your bedroom door to see Mia struggling to make your bed and chuckled lightly at the sight. He walked over to her, grabbing the other ends of the sheets to help her out.

Mia gave him a faint smile and stopped her movements for a second to look at Yeonjun. “Are you excited?” She asks with a big smile. Lord knows she was, her best friend was finally coming back but Yeonjun didn’t really know how to answer Mia’s question.

“More nervous than excited. We checked up on each other from time to time but it’s not like we really talked or anything.”

Mia pouted at Yeonjun’s insecure facial expression. One she hasn’t seen from him that often. Especially lately. Mia and Yeonjun have gotten a lot closer in the past six months, which was a nice change for the both of them.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. You’re not the same Yeonjun you were six months ago. And that’s a good thing. She’ll appreciate the change.”

“Gee, thanks.” Yeonjun snickers as he throws a pillow at Mia’s head. It hit her straight in the face, messing up her hair which made both of them erupt in loud laughter.

“Asshole,” Mia says straightening out her hair.

“What’s going on here?” Soobin asks with a big smile on his face as he enters your room.

Soobin hasn’t been able to wipe that damn grin off of his face all day. He was so excited for you to come back and honestly the mood with the boys and with Mia has been amazing lately.  

“Yeonjun is back to his old ways,” Mia argues as she tries to throw the pillow back at him, but Yeonjun swiftly caught it, giggling to himself as he fixes it before putting it back on your bed, where it belongs.

“Well, quit messing around and hurry the fuck up, I’m picking her up in an hour.” Soobin says clapping his hands together to try and give orders, but neither Yeonjun nor Mia were phased by Soobin’s attempt to assert dominance. Both of them rolled their eyes before getting back to the task of making your bed.  

It was adorable how stressed yet giddy Soobin was to see you again. Everything had to be perfect before you arrived so he could relax and make sure you’ll be able to relax after your flight too.  

He ran around your apartment like a stressed mother; making sure the boys weren’t messing around too much so that everything planned out smoothly before the guests arrived.

Soobin waited for you patiently…at the wrong exit.

You immediately recognized his tall form when you were skimming the crowd, wondering why he wasn’t there yet, but when you saw his back facing the wrong arrival hall; you knew enough.  

It’s so Soobin of him to face the wrong way. You smile to yourself as it gave you the perfect opportunity to scare him.

You chuckle as you walk towards him while pulling your suitcase with you. He was concentrated on the people exiting the gates, hoping to see you and growing more and more restless as you didn’t show up, but little did he know, you were right behind him.

“Who are we waiting for?” You ask in a serious tone as you stood beside him with your arms crossed while following his gaze onto the crowd.

Soobin’s head snapped into your direction so fast you swore you heard a bone crack.  

His eyes widened before he smacked his bunny-like lips in confusion, looking you up and down before a huge smile crept upon his face that you could only mimic.  

“YOU’RE HERE!” Soobin shouts in shock, relief, and joy at the same time while pulling you in for a tight hug. He inhaled your scent while twirling you around, and all you could do was giggle as he smothered you in his hold.

God, you missed him, and judging from the way he wasn’t letting go of you, you could tell he missed you too.

“Ugh, I missed you so much. How was your flight? And look at you! Did you change up your hair? You look good, happy, healthy. Ugh.”  

You couldn’t even respond to anything he was saying as he wrapped you into his arms again. Normally you’d fight him for being so clingy, but this time you let him have his way for a few seconds…until it got hard to breathe.

“Soobin, I can’t breathe.” You protest softly as you tap his chest to let go which made him laugh in response, holding you at an arms-length. “Sorry y/n. I just…we’re never separating for that long ever again,” he says with a serious yet playful look on his face.

“Agreed.” you beam up at him as you link arms, walking towards the exit.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asks as he pets your hair, not believing that you were standing next to him right now.  

“Mmh, there was some turbulence so I couldn’t really rest. I can’t wait till I’m home again so I can sleep,” you mumble before you let out a yawn as you drag your feet on the tiled floor of the airport.

Soobin gulped. He didn’t know how you’d feel about the hoard of people in your apartment right now, all ready to celebrate your return when all you really wanted was to get some rest after your long travels.  

He felt guilty for a second but also knew that you’d probably forget all about your tiredness when you’ll see all of your friends again.

“Uhm, the car isn’t that far. Give me that,” he says as he takes your suitcase from your hold.

“Everyone quiet down! They’re coming up right now!” Taehyun announces while he cut the music.

Everyone frantically found a spot to hide. Some giggled as it got dark, some held on to each other cause they couldn’t see shit and some were nervous wrecks like Yeonjun.

You weren’t suspecting anything as you dragged your feet to your apartment. Soobin was acting weirder and weirder; fumbling with his keys, dropping shit, and constantly checking his phone, but you were too dense and tired to notice.

You struggle with your lock and let out a yawn. Soobin stood closely behind you, taking a deep breath as the door swung open.

Before you could even close the door behind you or find the light switch, all of the lights turned on in an instant, followed by a loud ‘SURPISE’ yelled out by at least two dozen people who were occupying your living space.

You flinch, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull and stumble backward, just so your back could hit Soobin’s tall form.

He laughed hysterically clapping his hands together like a seal, followed by everyone in the room.

“Oh my god.” Is the only thing that you were able to get out as you covered your face at the overwhelming sensation.

You didn’t even realize you had this many friends? I mean you knew all of them of course, but you didn’t comprehend the fact that they were all here to welcome you back.

The music turned back on and Mia was the first one to launch herself into your arms which had you immediately defrosting in her hold.

‘BITCH!!!” she yelped. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH.”  

She clung onto you and twirled you around making the adrenaline and confusion in your body shift to pure happiness at seeing their faces again.

You can’t believe they did this, and suddenly you don’t feel tired anymore.

“Y/N!” Beomgyu squealed your name as he hugged you, followed by Taehyun and Hueningkai who all patiently waited until it was their turn to hug you.

You were so caught up in shock and bombarded with love, that you didn't have time to scan the room for other familiar faces. Instead, you just let them come to you one by one as you stood glued to the floor, smiling, hugging and chatting away with all of the people that seemed to have missed you so dearly.  

Yeonjun stood in the corner of your living room, watching the whole ordeal. A smile crept onto his face at how happy and healthy you looked. It’s almost as if he saw you for the first time again. Making him realize that love at first sight really was a thing…even in this form.

He took a sip of his drink, still watching you carefully until someone nudged his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you go say hi to your girl?” The taller and older guy leaned against the wall next to Yeonjun after nudging him, making him look up at him.

“Hyung, I don’t even know what to say to her. She’s so happy right now, I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t think she’ll be happy to see you?”

“I don’t know anything right now.” Yeonjun sighed, watching you join Hueningkai and Beomgyu for a selfie with a big smile on your face. “When is the last time you two spoke?” Johnny asked, taking another sip of his drink.  

“Like two months ago.”

“Damn…”

“I know.”  

and just as the picture was taken, you spotted him across the room.  

Your eyes locked, making Yeonjun freeze in place. “Shit,” he gulps, downing his drink in one go to calm his nerves which made Johnny laugh at his antics.

“Relaaaax. Did you see her eyes light up just now? I think she missed you too,” he assures him, throwing an arm around his shoulder for comfort.

This seems odd? Doesn’t it? Yeonjun and Johnny being all friendly with each other.

During Yeonjun’s never-ending therapy sessions, the school’s counselor wanted to connect Yeonjun with someone with a similar background. You should’ve seen both of their faces when they met during a group session, but after realizing they had such corresponding backgrounds, you know; the neglected rich kid kind, they haven’t stopped talking to each other and oddly became very close friends.

It was nice for Yeonjun to have an older brother figure in his life since he’s the oldest in his own friend group, and it was even nicer for Johnny to find out that Yeonjun wasn’t such a big dick after all. Oh, and the part of having someone who gets his struggle was great too, even in the form of Choi Yeonjun.  

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You didn’t expect him to be here for some reason and the last thing you expected was seeing him with Johnny’s arm around his shoulder in a non-threatening way.

Mia chuckled as she followed your gaze. “Yeah…so, they started hanging out a few months ago.”

“How even?”  

“I don’t know maybe they started to bond over being your rejects,” Taehyun says making Mia and Beomgyu cackle with him, but you couldn’t quite see the humor in it. You had only returned to your friends for 5 whole minutes and they were already being annoying.  

Soobin noticed your slight annoyance and chuckled, rubbing your back in comfort as he was the only one to notice how nervous you really were to talk to him again after all this time. “Go talk to him, he’s just as nervous. Trust me.” Soobin says into your ear so only you could hear, and you give him a small nod in response. Smiling at the encouragement you so desperately needed.

You’re a bad bitch. You got this.  

You look at him once more as he talked to Johnny.

For some reason, his whole aura changed from the last time you saw him. His features matured a bit, he lost weight and he completely embraced having a mullet. Ok…hot.  

He was breathtaking. Even after all this time of being apart, he made you feel the exact same way and all it took to remind you of that feeling was one look from him.  

He decided to man up and make his way through the crowd to greet you, but you beat him to it as your legs automatically walked over to where he was standing.

Johnny sensed the sudden electricity in the air as you approached and decided to go in for the hug first to give Yeonjun some time to collect himself. “Y/n!” Johnny coed as he enveloped you into a big bear hug. “It’s so good to see you again. How are you? How was your exchange?”  

You’re snapped out of your trance, but you still feel Yeonjun’s eyes on you as you’re trapped in Johnny’s embrace. You collect yourself as you let go of him, trying to avoid Yeonjun’s gaze for now but it was almost impossible because of how close he was.  

“I’m good, it was good. A lot of sleepless nights but it was totally worth it.” You give him the quickest answer possible; you weren’t quite sure where to start the conversation with Yeonjun but the longer the two of you ignored each other, the weirder the tension between you two was getting.

He took a deep breath, giving you a warm smile before averting his attention to Johnny. He not so subtly told him to leave with his eyes, which made Johnny suavely exit the conversation by announcing that he needed a refill.

“Hey…” you start.

Yeonjun’s eyes glistened as he looked at you with adoration. “Hey.”

You looked good. Your skin had a healthy glow, and your new haircut was working wonders for your features. He was entranced by your beauty for a second before realizing his stare might be creeping you out, though you didn’t even notice, cause you were staring at him too.  

You were completely caught up in your own perception of time. Everything seemed to slow down now that you were looking into others eyes again after all this time and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, some kid you didn’t know accidentally bumped into you roughly.  

The sudden impact made you lose balance as you jolted forward, straight into Yeonjun’s arms. Luckily, he swiftly caught and stabilized you.

He looked at you in shock, making sure you were okay as he grabbed your shoulders before turning his attention to the random kid who somehow got an invite to be at your welcome home party, in your house, without you even knowing who he is.

He quickly apologized, but you feared for what was about to happen. The Yeonjun you left 6 months ago was a dick and a hothead, he’d make the kid regret running into you like that but to your surprise Yeonjun straightened out the freshman’s clothes and gave him a small side smile.  

“Be careful kid, we just got her back,” he says in neutral yet friendly tone.

That’s it? No threatening glare? No sarcasm?

He seemed to notice your dumbfounded facial expression and chuckled. “Anger management classes,” he explains with playfulness evident in his voice.

“You’re kidding?” you scoff in amusement.

“Nope. I’ve turned into a complete softie, just for you.”  

You teasingly shove his shoulder and laugh loudly. The sound made Yeonjun’s heart flutter as he watched your face contort into pure joy and cuteness. He felt the sudden urge to squish your cheeks together and litter your face with kisses but he withheld himself from doing so, and reciprocated your giggles with the sound of his own laugh as he raked his hand through his long locks.

This small moment of flirty teasing made the both of you realize just how much you had missed each other as you were quick to jump back in your old ways.

You both should’ve known that worrying about any awkwardness between you two was stupid. After all, you were friends before you even started dating; and luckily that dynamic returned quickly because he was just as big of a casual flirter as you were.

Suddenly it felt like you were starting all over again with him, it felt like the first time you tried to connect with him on that damn picnic that started the timeline of your relationship.

Somehow the universe granted you the opportunity to hit the reset button and do things right this time, and you couldn’t be happier now that you realize how stupid it was to worry about the inseverable connection you two seemed to have to each other.

Even after all these months and all those miles of distance, Yeonjun still felt like home.  

He gave you a shy smile, realizing you were staring at him with hearts in your eyes while you expectantly gazed into his dark orbs.

His eyes weren’t hollow anymore, for the first time in ages his happiness felt genuine and you couldn’t wait for him to tell you all about it.

“How about we…ditch your party for a bit and go take a walk,” Yeonjun suggests, giving you a hopeful yet mischievous look as he held out his hand for you.

You boldly lace your fingers through his and lead him out of your apartment without a second thought, ignoring stares from literally everyone.

Oh my god, history really was repeating itself. Your mind flashes back to the walk you took with him that night at Johnny’s party; you lead him out of Johnny’s kitchen the exact same way right after the fight you had with an overprotective Soobin about trying to date Yeonjun.

You got Yeonjun a little flustered, which is a first, but he was happy with your directness. He couldn’t wait to be alone with you in a more private setting and if that meant leaving your own party, then so be it.  

Fresh air hits your lungs as the chilly spring night welcomes you outside. Your apartment was way too crowded and way too hot which made you sigh contently as the cold wind created goosebumps on your skin.

Yeonjun looked at you and stopped in his tracks while diverting his gaze at your still intertwined fingers.

You look back at him, confused as to why he stopped walking, but before you could ask questions; he pulled you towards him, trapping you into his strong arms. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck to slowly pat your hair as he leaned his chin on the top of your head.

You just let it happen, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your face in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of soap mixed with his expensive Chanel Bleu cologne hit your nostrils and the butterflies in your tummy start to flutter again after being on rest for six months.

Whole. That’s how you feel in the moment.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” You mumble into the hug, not wanting to look up at him out of fear that he might not have felt the same, but by the way he was holding you right now, you should know better. The insecurity of not being good enough still had its ways of fucking with your mind, even though you had no reason to be.

Yeonjun opened his eyes at your confession, not being able to hide how happy he was to hear that his feelings were mutual. He hid his grin by burying his face into your hair again as he giggled before pulling back slightly to see your face. You were trying incredibly hard to hide the heat that had risen to your cheeks but it was to no avail as Yeonjun mumbled something about how cute you were right now.

He was so worried you didn’t feel the same. He was convinced you forgot all about him at Brown. Your Instagram stories were filled with the countless parties you went to, the new people you met accompanied with the fact that your posts were littered with suggestive comments from guys he could only assume you met over there.

Yeonjun’s biggest fear relating to your return was that you utilized those six months away from him to move on, but as selfish as it sounds; he was so incredibly glad that you hadn’t.  

“Look at me.” He tried to cup your face but you didn’t let him, giggling into his chest as you protested.

The two of you must look absolutely pathetic to bystanders right now. You were completely stuck in your own world, acting like high school kids who were brand new to love, but somehow that’s exactly what you were.  

He chuckled lowly, as you tightened the hold you had on his waist. “Ah, whyyy…Look at me, come on.”

You do as you’re told, and when you look up you are greeted by the most beautiful smile you’ve seen in your life, making your breath hitch in your throat at how boyish yet manly he looked just now.

“Ok, I’m looking. Now what?” You challenge as you take a hold of his wrists as he cupped your face.

He didn’t know if he’d move too fast if he kissed your lips right now, so he decided against it while giving you a sweet kiss on your forehead instead.

“I just wanted to see your pretty face up close again. Instagram doesn’t do you justice, angel.”

“Oh, shut up.” You giggle, rolling your eyes as you push yourself out of his hold. You hate to admit it, but the little pet name made your heart skip a beat. You pretend to run from him, but he snatched you back in no time by tugging at your elbow with laughs and giggles. You give in and link arms with him as you resumed your walk through your neighborhood and look up at him to check if he was really here with you right now.

This whole thing just felt too good to be true. Here you thought he’d moved on from your relationship, but the confirmation that he hadn’t was nice, to say the least.

He looked down as he felt your eyes on him and smiles at you before looking at the path ahead of him.

“What?” he asks with an amused tone, but you just shake your head in response.

“You seem different.”  

“How different?”

“Like you aren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore type of different.”

He nodded understandingly and stopped in his tracks to look into your eyes again. His hands traveled down to yours, lacing your fingers together once more before he sighed, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear for you.

You gave him an expecting look, squeezing the hand that was still intertwined with yours to assure him of the fact that you’re listening, which earned you a small smile.

“It’s cause I’m not. While you were changing the lives of others with your research, I was changing my own. At first, I thought the whole therapy thing was a hoax. I didn’t understand why talking to some stranger would fix me, but it helped me come to terms with a lot. I learned about acceptance and moving forward. And I learned that in order to be able to love someone in a healthy manner, I’d have to love myself first. You know…on a deeper level than just my handsome face” he jokes trying to lift some weight off of his words.

You roll your eyes, but secretly love his arrogance, making a low chuckle escape from your lips before you return to seriousness again.

“I’m so proud of you.” you say, and you mean it. You’re amazed at how clear his mind seemed to be. It’d usually take Yeonjun a good minute to collect his thoughts before he could talk about how he felt with you, but right now it came out so naturally, it was almost odd.

He gave you a weak side smile, making eye contact once again. “I’m nowhere near the finish line though. I can’t promise you that I’ll never fuck up again because I’m learning as I go, but what I can promise you, is that my heart and my feelings for you are unchanged. I haven’t stopped thinking of you, not once. The thought of being with you again was my driving force and I need you to know that.”

He caressed your cheek while you let his words sink in and suddenly you feel tears prickle your eyes.  

You were at a loss for words, completely lovestruck by his incredibly sweet and wise confession.

You hold onto his wrist for leverage, your breathing turned shaky and uneven as a tear escaped your eyes.

Here you thought he had completely moved on from your relationship. But god, you were so wrong, and you couldn’t be any happier.

“I promised myself to never make you cry again,” he joked lightheartedly as he wiped another tear away from your cheek, making you sniff in response, wiping them away with your sleeve quickly.  “They’re happy tears.”  

He looked into your eyes again, searching for answers and maybe even permission. He wanted to take things slow; give you time to reflect and time to adjust to being back home, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

When you leaned into his touch, he knew you basically gave him an okay to proceed.

He inched his face dangerously close to yours, lightly brushing his plump lips against yours. His hesitation made you smile, so you pull him down to your level by the back of his neck as you initiated the kiss.

He froze for a second at your dominance but quickly relaxed in your touch soon after he realized that you seemed to want this just as much as he did.

Kissing him was like muscle memory. It felt natural and blissful and suddenly you find yourself wondering about how you were able to live without this feeling of pure euphoria for over six months.

His love was like a drug, and all it took was one kiss to break your sobriety.

He pulled back, quickly assessing his surroundings before he realized the two of you were basically making out in the middle of the street.

He pulled you into an alleyway and pushed you against the wall of a random apartment building, his hands holding on to each side of your face delicately yet roughly as he kissed you with so much fervor, it almost made you dizzy.  

“You really had me thinking I lost you forever,” he mumbles as his lips disconnected from yours.

You weren’t given the change to respond as his lips found their way to the soft spot in your neck. He still remembered every sensitive inch of your skin and used it against you all too willingly; wrapping his hands around your throat as he kissed and licked a pattern from your jaw to your neck.  

A breathy moan left your lips as he started to suck possessive marks onto your neck and you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, letting him do as he pleases, too entranced by the delicious feeling. You jumped up and he caught you by hooking his arms under your thighs, stabilizing you against the wall as you kept making out.

You giggled at his eagerness, a little flustered at the fact that you were in public; even though it was nighttime while being in a neglected alley; it still felt wrong.

He smirked against your neck when he felt you hesitate, and placed a soft yet wet kiss on your lips before letting go of you. He made sure you landed back on the ground safely, straightening out your clothes for you. “Maybe we should head back,” he says with a dark gaze, acting as if he didn’t just litter your neck with marks and bruises. He licked his pouty lips in amusement at the sight of what he had just done to you, knowing all too well that people would be able to see what happened while the two of you were gone.

You playfully shoved him aside, completely oblivious to how bad it really was but when you stepped into the elevator and saw your own reflection you gasped and shot Yeonjun a look of pure panic and distress. “YEONJUN!” you gasp loudly. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I’m sorry I just…couldn’t help myself.” he licked his lips again, cockiness emitting from his entire being. He inched closer to you to give you an innocent kiss on the top of your head and pulled the hair tie out of your hair, making your hair fall past your shoulders to cover the hickeys.

“This’ll do.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

He scoffed, casually smacking your ass in response.  

On the remaining way back to your apartment you were constantly fixing your clothes and hair, trying to let it nonchalantly fall to the front but you knew it looked rather ridiculous.

You had hoped your friends were too intoxicated to notice but when you stepped foot in your apartment with Yeonjun closely trailing behind you, all eyes were on you again.

How long were you two gone for? 10, maybe 20 minutes?

“Hyung.” Taehyun grabbed Yeonjun by his collar, turning him around which made Yeonjun frown at the younger one.

“For fucks sake.” Taehyun sighs dramatically, wiping something pink from the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth with his index finger.  

…it was your fucking lipgloss.

Yeonjun’s ears turned a bright red as he started to chuckle nervously. “Now I lost the fucking bet with Hueningkai. I thought it’d take at least a week before you two would start simping over each other again, it hasn’t even been an hour….AND OUTSIDE?” Taehyun sucks his teeth as a sign of disapproval, looking you up and down before his eyes lingered on your neck. “Animals. That’s it. That’s the description.”

“Pay up, loser. I told you.” Hueningkai cackles as he throws his arms around both Taehyun and Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“Y’all made a bet? An actual bet on our relationship?” you ask in pure disbelief. It was so like them to turn your emotional turmoil into their own amusement, but you couldn’t really be mad at them.

Your friends know the two of you better than anyone and probably saw this coming way before you did.

“Venmo me later.” Taehyun mumbles to Hueningkai in defeat while walking off, and you can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all.  

All of these months left in pure insecurity about your relationship with Yeonjun. Nights of pondering about your future, worrying if he had moved on or not. It was all for nothing

Yeonjun and you move like magnets, and no course of time could really drive you apart because when you’re reunited, you will always find your way back to each other. Always.

He looked at you a little dreamily, it still wasn’t sinking in that you were back. For good. And all his.

He snaked his arm around your waist as he stood behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as you told your friends all about your adventures.

He was clingy, you were clingy and neither of you was hiding it for anyone. You’ve had your fair share of secrets with Yeonjun and you were more than glad that those times were over with.

At around 4 AM most people left, and you were left alone with the boys, Ryujin and Mia.

You were on the couch, perfectly comfortable on Yeonjun’s lap as you leaned into his chest. One hand was rubbing your back in up and down motions while the other had found its way under your shirt and onto your waist. His cold fingertips grazed over your bare skin and suddenly it was way too hard to stay awake.

The chatter of your friends became background noise as your eyelids grew heavy. But you were shortly awakened out of your slumber as you felt Yeonjuns lips on your temple.  

“You must be so tired after that flight and this whole circus,” he whispered with an empathetic pout, yet all you could do was nod as a response.

He chuckled at your cuteness and fixed a piece of your hair, kissing your forehead again before you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s funny how nothing has changed, yet everything is different,” Beomgyu says as he stares at you and Yeonjun with a loving smile.

Beomgyu might be a little shit with a smart mouth, but he cares for his friends. Seeing the two of you be so content in each other's presence made love emit from his pupils. Even though Yeonjun had been doing so much better the best couple of months, nothing compares to the pure happiness and giddiness that Gyu was seeing from him now, and that was all because you were together again.

Beomgyu wasn’t the only one to notice, because it was literally all of them, and especially Soobin.

Soobin who literally rebelled against any type of relationship between you and Yeonjun was smiling at the sight of you in his arms fondly. His two best friends finally found solace in each other after all the shit that both of you had been through together, and it made him sentimental.

A year had passed since the two of you started dating unofficially, though this was the first time in that whole year that Soobin was completely okay with it.

You were long gone and off into dreamland by now as Yeonjun looked at you with a small smile on his lips, but when he looked up to check why everyone had stopped talking, he was met with six pairs of twinkling eyes on him.

His pupils darted back and forth between them in genuine confusion. “Why? What’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Soobin sighed contently. “For once, nothing is wrong.” he says as he leans forward to hug Mia from behind who was sitting between his legs on the floor.

Taehyun chuckled at Soobin’s dramatic statement and Hueningkai hummed in agreement.  

“Not to get all simpy or anything, but with her being back it feels like our little dysfunctional family is whole again.” Beomgyu mumbles as he let his head drop onto Ryujin’s shoulder.

“Let’s try to be less dysfunctional,” Hueningkai says with determination.  

“We can be less dysfunctional if you can clean up after yourselves and fold your own damn laundry so I don’t have to start a fight with you every 5 seconds,” Taehyun argues as he throws a pillow at Hueningkai's face. Making him laugh as he got in in the face with full force.

“Why can’t we just…have one peaceful moment…just one.” Soobin says rubbing his forehead in agony.

Yeonjun chuckled at the banter of his little brothers and looked back at you. “I don’t know guys, maybe that’s our charm,” he says leaving all of them in pure confusion as they looked at him for clarification.

“What do you mean by that.” Mia questions as she raises a brow at him.

“We’ll literally walk through fire to be there for each other, right? We go through things individually but will never fail to be there for each other in times of need, and I think we need to embrace our worst mistakes and arguments so we can grow from them. After all we’ve been through, I know we’ll be together forever. So, I say cheers to being dysfunctional,” He says with a proud smile, picking up his drink from the side table to raise it up in the air for a collective moment of cheers.

Dumbfounded by Yeonjun’s odd display of maturity and wise words, they all comply, raising their glasses in the air followed by a loud cheer to being “dysfunctional.”

The sudden loudness of their voices woke you up, completely out of it and sleep drunk; you lift your head from Yeonjun’s chest, squinting your eyes at your friends as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Did I miss anything?” you say, your voice laced with sleep and confusion.

They all burst out into laughter at your current state paired with your obliviousness and messy bed hair.

“Nah, just six months of incompleteness,”  Yeonjun says as he pecks your lips.

Mia stayed over that night and helped you unpack and clean your whole apartment the next day, which you were super grateful for but...you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish Yeonjun would’ve stayed the night.

The fact of the matter is that you haven’t had time for a serious talk with him yet, because you know, tongue punching each other was of higher priority than hashing things out with actual words. Which meant you hadn’t really talked about your relationship status or how things will be moving forward.

“The last game of the season is tonight. Are you going?” Mia asked as she plops down on your couch with you.

“The last one? Already?”

“Yeah we’re gonna go celebrate after.”

“Even if they lose?”

“Girl, you know they don’t lose.”  

You roll your eyes and laugh at Mia’s overconfidence in her boyfriends’ team. You were about to give her a definite answer before your phone started buzzing.

[Yeonjun, 12.44 PM]: Hi baby.

[Yeonjun, 12.45 PM]: Is it ok if I come over? I’ll bring us coffees from that café you love so much. 😌

[Y/N, 12.45 PM]: Yesss please 🥺

You giddily smile at your phone, wanting to squeal with excitement but you hold it in and Mia seems to notice. “Oh god, is it him?”

“Yeah, so.” you glare at her with playful intent “Let me be happy. He’s changed so drastically; I almost couldn’t believe that last night’s Yeonjun was the Yeonjun I left six months ago.”

“Yeah, he’s been working super hard to change and the whole thing with his mom helped too.”

“His mom? What do you mean?” You ask in genuine confusion, Mia bit her lip as she furiously shook her head. “Listen, I’m never, ever going to meddle in your relationship ever again. When he gets here, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement until your attention is averted to your phone again as it buzzes in your lap once more.

[Hyunjin, 12.46 PM]: Hey sweetheart, did you have a good flight?  

Oh….

Your eyes shoot to Mia’s in panic and she frowns, taking your phone out of your hold to read the message.

“Oh my god…is this your little slip-up?” she asks with disgust evident on her features.

“What do you mean slip up? I am a single woman,” you argue, but Mia wasn’t having it.

“AM?”

“WAS? GIRL, I DON’T KNOW. It was a fling, nothing more.”

“Flings don’t call you sweetheart and ask you how your flight was.” Mia says squinting her eyes at you.

“Mia…”

She sighed, visibly irritated with how naïve you were being, but you couldn’t have known that you’d fall back into Yeonjun’s arms that fast, and it’s not like you ever dated Hyunjin. He was just a friend…who you’ve slept with once.  

“Listen, girl. I love you...but after everything Yeonjun has put himself through to be a better man for you, you better ghost this motherfucker right now or else.”

“Jeez, I will. It’s not like I like the guy. And since when are you team Yeonjun?”

She relaxed at your statement, slouching back into the couch. “A lot has changed y/n. He was a good friend to me when you weren’t here, that’s all.”

You nod understandingly, realizing that Yeonjun and yourself have a lot to talk about; maybe even more than you had hoped for now that Hyunjin reminded you of his existence with a mere text message.

Mia left soon after, wanting to give Yeonjun and yourself some privacy for when he got here, which wasn’t long after she left.

You opened the door for him, and he smiled at you. He was wearing a black beanie, an oversized black t-shirt, and those damned gray sweatpants of his that you love so much. Your heart did a thing at the sight and he quickly kissed your cheek before he rushed his way into your living room, trying to find a place to set down the coffee cups that were burning his fingertips at the touch.

“Careful.” You mumble as you watch him struggle. When he put the coffees down on your salon table, he quickly made his way to you again to properly kiss you this time.

He cupped your face, pulling you into him as he started to steal chaste kisses from your lips. You giggled into the kisses as you tried to untangle yourself from him, slapping his chest playfully to shoo him away.

He let go with a smile, taking your hand to lead you to your couch. You could tell by his whole body language and the way he skipped through your apartment that he was happier than ever.

You hoped you wouldn’t ruin that happiness by telling him about Hyunjin, but it shouldn’t matter because he didn’t matter. You only wanted to tell him just so you weren’t keeping any secrets anymore; cause god knows how that went the last time.  

“How’d you sleep?” he asks you as he hands you your coffee. You happily take it from him and keep your eyes on him as you take a sip. “Fine, it was weird being in my own bed again, I missed it though.”

“Yeah? Anything else you missed?” his gaze was piercing into you as he took a sip of his Americano, fully aware that he was fishing for an ego boost.

“Theres this guy I kinda missed, I guess his name is Yeonjun.” You shrug as you take another sip; your flirty playfulness is one of the things that he loved about you, it kept things spicy.

“Oh him? He wanted me to tell you that he kinda missed you too,” he says with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

You chuckle. “Good.”

Suddenly the two of you fell quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward quietness; it was more of a realization that your endless flirting had to turn into somewhat of a serious conversation.

“Yeonjun…”

“Hmm?” his eyes softened at the way you called his name, he set his coffee aside turning to you completely to show you that he was listening attentively.

You sigh, not knowing what else to say other than the following. “I love you and I want to be with you.”

His eyes grow in size, a little shook by your directness but he composed himself as he fixed his posture quickly. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“I mean it, but I need to be honest with you too,”

“About what?”

“While I was at Brown, I kind of…flirted off and on with one of my lab partners and well…I slept with him…once. I swear it was only once and I-” he cut you off by raising his hand so you’d stop your nervous rambling and sighed. He knew exactly who you were talking about, because he had seen that motherfucker all over Instagram and had honestly seen this confession coming from miles away. 

He was glad you told him though, cause he'd feel worse if you tried to hide it from him.

Though you didn’t post about him, Hyunjin did post about you, and basically tagged you in all of his Insta stories or group pictures. Yeonjun shamelessly cyberstalked the guy. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments, but he had to just to stay sane.  

“Baby, we were broken up. You don’t have to justify what you did or didn’t do at that time. It’s not like I expected you to turn into a nun.”  

You raise your brows in surprise at his mature response. “You’re not mad?”

“No. As long as it’s over with.”

“It is, I promise.”  

“Good,” he sucked his teeth as he watched you. “Also, it’s not like anyone can fuck you as well as I can,” he states with a devious smirk as he pulled you close, making you gulp in response to his choice of words.

He chuckles at how easily intimidated you were by him and takes the opportunity to tease you.  

“Did he?”  

“N-no.” you stutter, innocently staring up at him. “He didn’t”

“Good girl.” He says, biting his lip while letting his thumb ghost over your lower lip.

His choice of words made your stomach turn but you knew better than to let lust get the best of you once again.

“Yeonjun…” you breathe his name like a warning, trying to avert the tension. “We…we need to talk.”

“We can talk.” He shrugs, pulling your legs towards him aggressively so you’d slide down. Your back was now on the couch as he parted your legs, settling himself in between them before hovering over you to kiss over the bruises he left last night. “After I give you a little reminder.” He smiles against your skin, pulling your shirt over your bra so he could kiss a trail down to your belly button.

“God I missed you,” he says digging his nails into your waist. "So fucking much."

(Warning: heavy smut ahead!)

Your mind goes into overdrive as he unties the tie to your sweatpants, and as he does so you stare at the outline that had formed in his own.

He didn’t waste any time, pulling down the waistband of your joggers with one swift motion while you helped him by lifting your hips off the couch.

He discarded of your clothes faster than your mind could comprehend but then you noticed that he was fully clothed, when the only thing you were wearing by now were your panties.

You pouted, pulling at his waistband but he grabbed your wrist, pinning your hands above your head so he could look at you, beautiful, bare, and all his.  

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His lips found their way to the sensitive nub of your breast as he eagerly licked and sucked on it while his fingers found their way onto your still clothed heat.

He rubbed his middle and index finger over your clit, making you moan at the sudden stimulation.

He pulled away, making his way down to your core as he littered your inner thigh with more and more hickeys.

You were eagerly moving your hips by now, trying to get him to kiss you where you wanted him most, but he was taking his sweet time and you were losing your patience.

“Y-Yeonjun…” you moan his name. He finally rewards you by pulling your panties aside. Licking his lips at your glistening arousal, ready to feast on you as if it was the last meal he’d ever have.

“Fuck.” He says with admiration to no one in particular, placing a soft kiss on your pussy before he started to slowly kitten-lick your sensitive nub. He lowly hummed in approval at the taste of you and fastened his pace slowly.

You gasped, arching your back to give him better access as he started to eat you out like you’ve never experienced in your life.

His skill was baffling, he had your brain melting and legs shaking while he struggled to keep you still.

“Ah…” you arch your back once more, trying to get away from the overstimulation but he held you down with his strong arms.

“Who are you running from baby, stay still.” He ordered with a low voice before getting back to business, and with ten more seconds, he had you cumming in his mouth as the vibration of his low hums drove you over the edge. You cover your own mouth to muffle your loud cries, but he pulled your hands away from your face, wanting to hear you fall apart for him.

“That’s it baby.” he mused in approval, finishing you off with one last lick before he came back up to assess your fucked out state. “So fucking good for me.”  

Your chest was heaving up and down rapidly as you were trying to catch your breath. Once again you lost to the charms of Choi Yeonjun, but he was nowhere near done with you.

He quickly got rid of his own clothes and pumped himself a few times while looking straight into your eyes.

This man is a god, and he knew it.

His mischief returned when he realized you were watching him. “I think I got you wet enough, right baby?”

You almost forgot about his grit, your mouth salivating at the sight. Any slick you could build with him was a gift, because the last thing you wanted was for him to start a fire down there, cause that’s just how big he was.

You sit up which surprised him, but when you spit in your hand and pumped him a few times to slick him up some more he chuckled lowly as he realized what you were doing. He moaned in the form of a sharp exhale as your pace fastened, but he didn’t let you take control just yet.

“Scared?” he teased, keeping his eyes on you as you twisted your wrist a little more.

“No.” you huff.

“Then turn around.”  

You comply without a thought. You were both sitting up on your knees while your back leaned against his chest. You threw your head back and he kissed your forehead sweetly. guiding himself into you while his other hand held onto your waist to stabilize you against him.

You curse at the stretch, digging your nails into his thighs for leverage as he fills you up.

You both moan as your walls clenched around him. His arms snaked around you from behind as he took a hold of your neck, pinching down on the veins on each side of your throat as he slammed his hips into you continuously with long and deep strokes.

The choking sensation made everything so much more intense, especially when the fingers of his other hand started to rub circles on your still abused clit.

Your eyes rolled back as your vision got blurry, tears prickling your eyes at how good you were being wrecked right now.

He let go of your neck, putting his hand on the small of your back to push you down on the couch so your ass was up, and your face was down.

He started to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm and pace perfectly alternating as he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You’re mine,” he grunted as he felt himself getting closer and closer by the physical stimulation of your tightness and the mental stimulation of your moans and mewls.

It didn’t take long before you both reached your highs as he was prone boning you into heaven.

Your orgasm washes over you, and right after you came, he reached his own high.  

He pulled out right before he busted, releasing himself onto your back with a loud growl.  

Your eyes flutter closed; way too fucked out to function as you catch your breath. You feel his weight move off of you to grab one of the napkins on your side table that came with the coffees, and wiped his cum off of you with a cocky smile on his face.

You built up the energy to look back at him, and when your eyes meet all you can do is giggle with him at how ridiculous you two are.

“So…I guess now we can talk,” he says with a smirk.

- end of smut -

Once you fully recovered from having your back blown out…quite literally. You came out of your bedroom after a quick change of clothes.

You walk into your living room while you pull a clean shirt over your head.

 Yeonjun was still on your couch, watching you with a big boyish smile on his face as his gaze followed you.

“All good?” he asks, opening his arms for you. You nod in response, excitedly making your way into his arms. He moved you on top of him so you were on his lap and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Where do we even start.” You think out loud as you start playing with Yeonjun’s hair. He threw his head back in solace, letting you massage his scalp softly.

You chuckle at his reaction, stopping your actions which made him lift his head up immediately, giving you a kittenish angry face. “Why’d you stop.”

“Because it’s been an hour since you got here and all we do is dance around the subject,” you say as you move off of him. You turn sideways, leaning against the armrest of your couch while you drape your legs over his lap and sigh.

After deciding that Yeonjun would go first, he told you everything. From the progress he has made with his therapist to the baffling information of his mother selling Choi Enterprises and moving closer to the Uni for him. He told you about their relationship and his interest in the fashion industry. He’s been spending time with his friends in the dance studio again after years of neglecting his hobby and his grades are improving drastically compared to last year too.

He’s been doing well both mentally and socially. Even though he still has his bad days, he’s a lot happier than he was before. You listened attentively asking questions and making sure you understood every detail to your best ability.

When it was your turn to start talking, you realize just how sadistic your exchange was now that you’re explaining the details out loud. You told him about the crazy schedules, spending days from 8 am to 10 pm in the lab, neglecting your health just to forget about your heartache. You were being brutally honest, and you saw Yeonjun’s jaw clench at the revelation.  

If he knew you were having such a hard time, he would’ve contacted you more, but you explained to him how the experience made you stronger, harder and less of a cry baby.  

You spoke about your new gained independence and soon realized that, where Yeonjun needed emotional cradling, you needed to be hit with the real world without the safety net that your friends and parents always provided for you.

The two of you had been talking for over two hours, and finally came to the inevitable question.

“So…what does that make us.” You sigh as you played with his fingers.  

“Really, the ‘what are we’ question?” he chuckled, watching you play with the ring on his index finger.

“Well. Do you have an answer?” you mumble, letting go of his hand.

“I’m yours,” he says, putting his hand on your thigh while his other hand tugged on your chin to make you look up at him.

Your eyes grew in size, swallowing harshly when his fingers moved from your chin to caress your cheek. “And I don’t want to take things slow anymore, I love you too much to relive the dating phase."

“Me too,” you agree with determination. He smirked contently, leaning into you to feverishly kiss you on the lips.

“You know what that was?” He asks as he pulls away with his face still in close proximity.

“What?” you question with a giggle.

“Our first kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.”  

You slap his chest, bursting into laughter at his cheesiness. The sound of your laughs and giggles filled the room as he started to kiss you all over your face and neck, leaving you breathless and ticklish at his touch

“I love you, Choi Yeonjun, but I think you have an important basketball game to get to.”

Of course they won.  

Yeonjun made the winning point which meant he had something to brag about all night.

You were at a local diner with all of the boys, their teammates, and respective girlfriends or boyfriends. Drinking, talking, and overall having a good time.

When Mia, Ryujin, Soobin, Taehyun, Beomgyu and Hueningkai heard the news about your new relationship status, they basically congratulated you as if you announced that you were getting married.  

The whole thing was just way too funny, and Yeonjun dragged you around all night to introduce you to everyone.  

The freshman on the team were so confused when Yeonjun introduced you as his girlfriend because they had never heard of or seen you before.  

“Hyung, Imma be honest with you, I kinda thought you were gay.” Sunghoon admits as he apologetically scratched the back of his head.

“…S-same” Heesung states, looking at you both with apologetic eyes as well.

Yeonjun looked at them a little funny as he burst into laughter, pulling you closer to him. “Why?”  

“Because well, we haven’t seen you with a girl all year, and with the way you look, I don’t know. 1+1 was gay I guess.” Jay, another freshman explained their point of view a little further, which had you cackling at the situation.

“Oh my god, so you little shits were the ones spreading rumors about me and Wooyoung!?”  

“N-no! NO!” The kids protested, but Yeonjun was already playfully grabbing them by their collars to scold them.

You laughed at the whole ordeal, love emitting from your eyes as you watched Yeonjun be in his popular guy element again.

You zoned out for a bit, absentmindedly listening to how Beomgyu and Hueningkai were telling a story about that one time they took Yeonjun’s car for a joyride in the middle of the night without his permission.  

Yeonjun noticed your mental absence, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, softly kissing your temple.

“What’s wrong?”  

You shake your head, sentiment getting the better of you. This is the most complete you’ve felt in a while.

You kissed him with fervor, your hands lacing through his dark locks before you pulled away to place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just really happy right now,” you say as you smile at each other lovingly.

1 year later.

Graduation was around the corner.

It was insane how fast time flew. You celebrated your first-year anniversary with Yeonjun the night before and were now laying in his bed the next morning, slowly waking up just to feel the soreness of what he did to you last night.

You groaned in agony at the bright light, even after all this time; you still weren’t a morning person.

You noticed how Yeonjun was missing from the bed, so you got up to look for him. Putting on his large shirt to cover yourself as you made your way to the boys’ living room.

Soobin was on the couch with Taehyun and Hueningkai looking you up and down with disapproval.

“Jesus. Did you get hit by a truck in there?” Taehyun asks as he clicked his tongue.

“Shut up smart-ass. Where’s Yeonjun?”  

Taehyun chuckled, being completely used to your grumpiness in the morning by now. If Yeonjun wasn’t staying at your place, you were staying at theirs; so they were more accustomed to having you around like this.  

“He said he had to run a quick errand; he’ll be back soon,” Soobin replies with light amusement in his eyes at how roughed up you looked.

“Hey, next time…be a little more quiet.” Beomgyu tells you as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.  

“My room is next to Yeonjun’s you know.”

“Oh shut up hyung, I hear you and Ryujin almost every night,” Hueningkai says rolling his eyes, which made you crack your first smile of the day.

“Oh nooo, not my pure baby Hueningie” Soobin pouted as he trapped Kai in between his legs for a hug.

“Hyung, you’re gonna have to let go soon. Literally. When you guys graduate you don’t get to live here and baby me anymore.” Hueningkai protests as he tries to push Soobin off of him.

Soobin pouted, making you immediately feel bad for him. 

When Yeonjun and Soobin would move out, Jay and Heesung would move in, which meant that Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had to hold down the fort as seniors for one more year until they graduated, and the thought alone made Soobin feel uneasy.

Soobin and Mia were officially moving in together after graduation. They had planned their whole futures together and both had job offers in the city from their internships.

“I’ll still come over…every…weekend. You know, just to make sure.”

You drift off into thought, realizing how Yeonjun and yourself have been living your lives in the moment without concrete plans for the future together.

Since your apartment was off-campus you still got to live there after graduation. You had gotten an amazing job offer because of your research at Brown, which had major corporations battle it out with outrageous contracts, salaries, and promises to your favor so your options were most definitely open.

Your future looked bright, as did Yeonjun’s who’d be working as a Creative Director for his mothers’ luxury brand...but how did you two miss the mark on planning a future together?

Were you that caught up in your own world to realize that adult decisions had to be made soon?

Yeonjun walked in, interrupting your thoughts. “Oh, hey guys.”

He set his keys on the kitchen counter, giving you a funny look. “I texted you to get ready.”

“Oh..shit, I didn’t check my phone, Sorry. Give me 20 minutes.”

You didn’t question why he wanted you to get ready, he’d probably take you out for breakfast or some shit, so you weren’t suspecting anything, but Yeonjun could sense that something was off about you.

During the car ride to your unknown destination, he looked at you as you stared out of the window. You were lost in deep thought about the whole graduation thing and didn’t even notice how the houses on the streets were starting to get ridiculously big as you drove further and further into a random neighborhood

He grabbed your hand, kissing the inside of your palm while rubbing those comforting circles into your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to look at the road while also looking at you from time to time.

“I’m just…worried about life after graduation. I don’t like change.”

Yeonjun raised his brows in surprise, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he turned the corner into a brand-new built street filled with massive villas.

The neighborhood looked peaceful, not too flashy and private. Maybe even a little too perfect to be real.

He pulled up to a random house, parking his car on the driveway. The confusion was evident on your face as he opened the door for you, reaching out to take your hand.

He helped you out of the car and you give him a look, chuckling at his awkwardness. “Uh…are we here to see someone?”

He sighed, back hugging you and leaning his head on your shoulder as the both of you looked up at the house.

“What do you think of this place?”

“It’s…beautiful. But I don’t really get why we’re here.” You giggle as you feel him kiss your neck and you turn around to face him, trying to find answers in his eyes.

“If you want…we can stay here.” He bit his lip nervously. “You know, after graduation.”

“W-what? I’m confused. Like Till The End of Summer?”

He shook his head, laughing once again while snaking his arms around your waist at your innocence and obliviousness. “You’re so cute,” he muses, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket and suddenly realization hit you as pure shock takes over your features.  

He bought the fucking house.  

He couldn’t help but laugh at your shocked Pikachu face. He had been planning this behind your back for so long and it was incredibly hard to keep this a secret, especially since literally everyone knew about it but you.  

You didn’t know what to do or say, completely frozen and shocked as you look at the house with big watery eyes.  

He pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, giving you the keys to the front door with a big smile.  

“Till the End of Our Lives.”  

Bonus Chapter 15

[clairecrive]

Ooh okay this is TOTALLY self-serving but i’m doing it anyway—could you do a (fem)reader x remus where the reader is juggling all sorts of things—working at the ministry and taking classes at night or something along those lines and feels like she’s wasting what are supposed to be her golden years and so she gets upset one night and remus is incredibly good about calming her down and comforting her about it?

"Cake by the sofa"

A/n: not to make this self-serving anon but writing this felt like therapy lmao. Today I offer you some much needed Remus fluff.

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Word count: 1.3K

Tags: @ashlovesthemarauders, @jupiterandbutterflies , @hannaxmaria, @seldomabsent (if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

HARRY POTTER MASTELIST

The subway was always jam-packed at this hour and you hated it. You hated it and you couldn't avoid it in any way. This was your assigned entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Any other day it would be fine, you'd put on an audiobook or some music but today... today was just too much. Not to mention that the incessant noise was making it impossible to talk to Remus.

You had left before he'd wake this morning and realizing that you haven't spent some quality time with him in ages broke your heart.

"Bunny, you there?" Did you already mention that the connection was shit underground?

"Sorry, love I'm here what were you saying?"

"I asked you when you'd be home tonight."

"Oh," you hummed trying to recall the schedule for today. Thankfully, ministry jobs were 9-5. Sure, they'd usually call you to make extra hours but you couldn't remember if you had to do so today.

Then it hit you, you had taken on a night shift at a local muggle newspaper. It was actually demanded from your superior at the Ministry as a way to make sure that muggles stayed in the dark about the Wizarding world.

"I'm going to be late again tonight, actually." You grimaced at the words. Remus had never pressured you and he himself was a very busy man. Between his job, your jobs and the Order, you rarely see each other, to the point where you were mostly roommates rather than boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Again," he mused and you could hear the weariness in his tone. Sighing, you landed on a wall. You were in the Ministry now, work could wait for another five minutes. This was more important.

"I'm sorry love. I know we haven't properly seen each other in a while."

"That's not what I'm worried about, bunny. You're working too much."

"I could say the same for you, Rem." You pointed out softly. You didn't want to come off as a hypocrite since you also were always busy.

"I'm fine, bunny. It's you that is wearing herself out."

"You don't have to worry about me, I'm fine. Huffing, you rolled your eyes at his apprehensive nature even though he couldn't see you.

"You know I do."

"I love you and I miss you." You confessed changing the subject. You were afraid the distance between you cause by your crazy schedules would eventually drive you apart. So, every time you could even if it was out of the blue, you did this. It was both for reassuring him but for yourself as well.

"The feeling is mutual, my love." Hearing him saying it back had an instant soothing effect.

"I'll see you soon, hun."

You ended the phone call after wishing him a good day and him doing the same. Sighing you put your phone away, your mood souring further as you made your way to your office where you were going to spend the entirety of your day while you only wanted to be with him.

Work was important to you and you knew that Remus shared this same attitude but at the same time, you knew that if it got down to it, you'd choose the sweet-hearted werewolf over anything else.

Making a mental note to speak to your superior about your weekly schedule, you'd settled behind your desk (not so) ready to face today's workload.

*+* *+* *+*

When you finally made it home, later that day, you were ready to bid today adieu. Sighing heavily, you closed the door behind you, the keys rattling as you locked it.

The hallway was dark but you could see that the light in the kitchen was on.  You were light on your feet as you headed there since you didn't know if Remus was awake or he had just forgotten to close it.

When you entered the room though, the sight that met you made you halt. Your eyes flickering all over the room as you took it in. The light had been left on purposefully. The table was laid, carefully set with your favourite pieces, a couple of candles and a few rose petals adorning it.

Realizing that this was most definitely Remus' doing, you smiled as your eyes moved over the room to look for him. But he wasn't in the kitchen.

"Rem?" you called for him softly as you stepped into your small living room. And here he was, snoring softly on the sofa.

Kneeling, you smiled as you took in his peaceful expression. This alone, his angelic face and comforting presence alone would have been enough to soothe your frustrations.

Carefully, you pushed a piece of hair away from his eyes before your finger gently trailed over the scars on his face. He looked exhausted and your heart ached at the idea of waking him up but you knew he had tried to do something nice for you so you wanted to at least thank him for that. Also, the sofa is fucking uncomfortable.

"Baby," shaking his shoulder gently while peppering his face with small kisses you set to draw him for his slumber.

He groaned at the disturbance but you saw the moment he registered that it was you who was annoying him as he turned his head so that your lips could meet his instead of his cheek.

"Hi, bunny," he peeked at you through his lashes, eyes still unfocused with sleep as he pecked you again.

"Hi," you parroted him like a fool. He had always had this effect on you, even more so now that he looked out-of-this-world cute with his tousled curls and red lips.

He mirrored your smile, leaning in your hand that was cradling his face enjoying your touch. As sleep slowly unclouded his mind, the realisation settled on him. Eyes wide, he shot up almost knocking his forehead with yours.

"The dinner," he exclaimed, cheeks red in embarrassment as he looked at you sheepily.

"I saw. It was very sweet of you Rem but you didn't have to." Rising, you settled beside him on the sofa to reassure him.

"I wanted to do something nice for you but of course I had to ruin everything," he groaned letting his head fall on the headrest of the sofa with his face hidden behind his hands.

"Hey," leaning over him, you gently pulled his hands away, " you didn't ruin anything. I love it and I love you for doing this." You kissed his palm to drive your point home.

"You're just as tired as I am, honey."

He knew you were right. He was just as exhausted but still, he was upset that he hadn't been able to do this for you. Letting out a big breath, he used the hand you were holding to pull you to him. Kissing you gently he settled his forehead on yours, intertwining your fingers.

"I had even baked a cake," he mumbled on your lips.

"Well, why don't we eat that and then go to sleep? What do you say?" you proposed pecking his lips again.

"I say that I love you."

Giggling you lightly bumped his nose with yours before rising from the sofa to retrieve the dessert.

When you came back with the plates in your hands, his slice twice bigger than yours, you handed him his before taking your place beside him again.

"So, how was your day?" He asked before digging in,

"Not as good as this cake, for sure." You let out an obscene moan to prove your point but you knew it did well for his ego judging by the look in his eyes.

He thanked you for the compliment with the most adorable shade of pink adorning his cheeks. You cooed at him before asking him the same question.

It wasn't much, just the two of you sharing this insanely good cake Remus made but it was exactly what he needed after a pretty shitty week.

[rebelwrites]

First In Line

Jax Teller x Reader

Requested by @rocketqueen

Prompt: “I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you...I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury” -

Looking around your living room, a smile formed on your lips. Tonight was the weekly pizza and beer night. You only had a small house but somehow everyone managed to be comfortable, it was cozy.

You were sitting on the floor between Jax’s legs, this was your spot, always has been and always would be.

“Hit me” You smiled leaning your head back against Jax’s groin, looking up at him.

“I swear its like having a pet” He smirked as he held a piece of pizza in front of your mouth so you could take a bite before taking the slice off him.

“Thank you” You said, sticking your tongue out at him.

Everyone just wished you would hurry up and get together, seen as you both acted like a couple anyway.

“So I was thinking” Juice smiled “lets play a game, we each go around and say two truths and a lie and then the others have to guess which one is the lie”

“How old are you again?” You winked at him.

“For that you are going first” Juice laughed, making you groan.

“Fine” you huffed “right so I have never had a boyfriend because no one shows any interest in me”

As soon as you finished speaking you heard Jax choke on his beer. Leaning your head back you looked at him to make sure he was okay.

“Carry on” he nodded.

“I have always been too scared to learn how to ride and when I was about 8 years old I got stuck in the washer machine” You said resting your head on Jax’s knee feeling him playing with your hair.

“Definitely the boyfriend thing” Chibs nodded followed by everyone agreeing.

“Nope the lie was getting stuck in the washer machine” You said trying to read the room.

“Just so you know there are plenty of people interested in you darlin’” Jax said.

“Well where are they then” you sighed “because I sure as hell don’t see them”

“I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you...I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury” Jax whispered running his hands through your hair.

The rest of the room fell silent thinking that Jax was going to confess but it never went any further.

It was now 1am and everyone apart from you and Jax had fallen asleep where they were sitting.

You and Jax were sitting out on your front porch, a blanket wrapped around the two of you, smoking, drinking coffee and watching the stars, your head was resting on his shoulder and your whole body felt a peace, it always did around Jax. You didn’t have to pretend you were better people.

This was one of Jax’s favorite times, just you and him. In fact in his head he pretended that you were together.

One thing that you couldn’t stop thinking about was what he said earlier that night.

“Can I ask you something?” You whispered.

“Darlin’ you know you can ask me anything” Jax whispered kissing your head “what's going on it that pretty head of yours”

“Just what you said earlier” You said softly “about how I have a line as long as the Glastonbury queue of people that want to date me, were you being serious?”

Jax was slightly taken back by the question, he hated how you didn’t believe people were interested in you for more than just a one night stand.

“Look at me” Jax whispered, placing his fingers under your chin, moving your head so you were looking into his eyes. He smiled lovingly at you, his heart was melting at how beautiful you looked in the moonlight, there was something so raw about this moment.

“I was being serious” He whispered running his thumb across your cheek “and I know your next question is going to be how do you know, I know because I am first in fucking line darlin’, I always have been”

The words got caught in your throat at his revelation. It took you a couple of moments to process what he said.

“But why?” You mumbled “I am obviously nothing special”

“Hey, I never want to hear you say you aren’t special again okay” he whispered, linking his hand with yours, brushing his thumb over the top of your head. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel sparks and butterflies right now.

“Okay” you nodded.

“I didn’t want to fall in love, or need someone. I really didn’t want anything especially with the life I live. But then you appeared and I started wanting everything, when I look at you, I see the one I love, the one I need, the one I am meant to be with”

Silent tears were falling down your cheeks, you couldn’t believe that the person you saw as your best friend had been in love with you for so long and you have no idea.

“And if you gave me a chance I would spend every single moment showing you how much I love you” He whispered, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

You didn’t know where the confidence came from, you felt a buzz and not just from the beer. Reaching up you place your hand on the side of Jax’s face, feeling his lean into your touch. You took a deep breath before closing the small gap that was between the two of you, your lips connecting with his. And in that moment everything felt right, nothing else mattered right now and it was like it was just you and Jax.

Your lips moved in sync, the passion and love being spoken in words that you didn’t know how to say. Pulling away you rested your forehead against his, a large smile gracing both of your faces.

“You don’t know how long I have been waiting for this moment Y/N” he whispered “so what do you say? Wanna give us a shot and be my girl?”

“Do you think I would have kissed you if I didn’t want to give us a shot” You giggled before letting a long yawn escape your lips.

“Come on lets get you to bed” He whispered kissing you softly.

You were now laid in bed, wrapped up in Jax’s arms, things still felt like a dream and you just hoped that come morning it wasn’t a dream.

“So are you really scared on learning how to ride?” Jax asked as you ran your fingers across his bare chest.

“Yeah” You whispered feeling slightly embarrassed.

“But you ride with me all the time” He said running his fingers down your arm.

“Yeah I know but I’m not in control of the bike” You said looking up at him.

“Do you want to learn to ride on your own?” He asked.

“Yeah I do” You nodded listening to his heartbeat.

“Well then tomorrow, you and me will go for a ride into the middle of nowhere, so its just us and I will teach you how to ride” He whispered, you could tell by the sound of his voice he was smiling.

“Jax I can’t” You mumbled.

“I won’t let anything happen to you darlin’, I will be right behind you until you feel you are confident enough to ride on your own” He whispered kissing your head “Now beautiful, get some sleep”

“Night Jax” You mumbled letting your eyes flutter close, letting the sound of his heartbeat be the lullaby you needed to drift to sleep.

Jax couldn't help it, he stayed awake a bit longer to watch the angel, his angel sleeping peacefully on his chest, he didn’t think this day would come, the day that he could finally call you his girl but here he was, on cloud nine and he only had Juice to thank for wanting to play a silly game.

SOA TAGLIST

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @beth-winchester21 @rocketqueen @auroraariza @trulysuccubus @haynsey @witching-hour @destynelseclipsa @edonaspanca @abbiesthings @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jadesamhart @lady-pswrld @ly--canthrope @hennessyauntie @gemini0410 @i-love-scott-mccall @est11 @mystic-shadows42 @sugary-x-sweet @starrynite7114 @skyofficialxx @terminallygenius @lauraashley93 @leaalfred @angelreyesgirl89 @sheeshgivemeabreak @marquelapage @meteora-fc @penny4yourthot @justahopelessssromantic @ilikechocolatemilkh @mayans-sauce @xbreezymeadowsx @ben-c-group-therapy @-im-fantastic- @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @milaxmariex @cubblycie @little-diable @hotdamnhunnam @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

[lizzie-saltzman]

I’LL CRAWL HOME TO YOU

A Hizzie fanfiction / update

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman Fandom: Legacies Rating: M Chapters: 2/? Summary:  In many ways, meeting Hope in a different reality had helped Lizzie put things in perspective, and perhaps even understand her in ways she hadn’t before. Understand them, their connection, the palpable animosity that had turned into a reluctant friendship and now something far more tangible. The rest, well, she doesn’t tell Josie. Not about waking up after three weeks away from her real home, tucked under the covers of Hope’s bed with their clothes discarded around the dormitory, with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead and her hair sticking to her cheekbones. There were some things better left unsaid. (Upon her return from an alternate timeline a Malivore monster teleported her to, Lizzie must deal with the aftermath of her time spent away, and her newly doormat feelings for Hope Mikaelson.)

chapter 1 here

READ CH. 2 HERE ON AO3 or under the read more 

[ 3 WEEKS AGO ]

A muddy splash sends speckles of murky water coating a pair of white boots. Under the full moon, an owl hoots, as Lizzie Saltzman breaks through the branches that leave a bloody mark on her left cheek. She reaches for it, with a mumbled expletive as her breathing grows heavier and her knees start to give. Behind her, a black wolf with yellow tinted eyes that shine through the darkness of the woods gives chase, snarling as it draws closer to her. 

She’s been sprinting for a while; Lizzie’s exhausted, pushing past the burn on her thighs as she rounds a corner and leaps over a log dangerously set on the ground, almost losing her balance as her boot skids through the mud. Its drizzling, her clothes are weighing her down, her hair is ruined – if she had the mind to complain about the other terrible but insignificant, personal circumstances, she’d be holding an ice pack to her cheek and ranting over a Strawberry Smoothie. Instead, she finds herself here, in the outskirts of the woods in Mystic Falls, barely managing to get on her feet before the wolf catches up to her. 

“Lecutio!” She’s all out of magic after –– the ball of energy flies ahead of the wolf and crashes against the tree behind it, effectively snapping off the branches and watching as they fall near the wolf long enough to distract it. It wasn’t her intention, really – she was aiming for it’s head. Soon enough, the wolf turns it’s head (and it’s disorienting eyes) in her direction, growling.

“Crap…” And she takes off again, her boots splash, splash, splashing rapidly on the wet floor. This is not how she pictured spending a Sunday night. 

Her lungs are giving out, her body begs her to stop running; she might pass out from exhaustion alone, and her vision – on top of that – blurs as the light drizzle of rain washes over her face. She wipes it away with the palm of her hand, but it obstructs her already impaired vision in the dark, and trips over a boulder on the ground. Lizzie groans, her body rolling through the mud, and the wolf slows it’s approach. She’s cornered. She’s screwed. She’s dead.

The wolf stalks forward. Lizzie raises her hands to her face, and it launches itself through the air. 

Lizzie screams, anticipating the powerful impact, the bite, but instead another wolf collides in the air with her attacker. White, with speckles of grey. They roll around in the mud, snarling at each other, growling, taking bites anywhere their teeth can sink into until they’re both back on their feet. Lizzie watches, covering her mouth as she gasps, pushing herself back until her shoulders meet one of the trees behind her. 

Then, the white wolf attacks the black one again. They begin their vicious snarling, and as Lizzie finds the force to pick herself off the ground, she hears one of them whimper. When she looks back, the black wolf is retreating, disappearing through the trees, and the white one turns, even slower in its approach. Lizzie’s eyes widen, out of magic, and out of breath, but she turns around in an attempt to try and run away again. 

Except she spins out, when she feels her black hoodie being yanked away from her body, leaving her in a tank top under the rain that starts to pick up. She turns around angrily, but instead of finding a white wolf stalking back, she finds –

“Hope?” 

Hope is sporting her too-big-for-her hoodie over her naked body and watching her with her arms crossed over her chest. It covers just enough. Not everything. Just enough. 

“Oh, thank God!” Lizzie exclaims, throwing her arms around Hope in sweet, sweet relief as she tries to catch her breath. “I thought I was dead. Dead, dead.” 

But she knows Hope Mikaelson. Always coming through with her last minute heroics. 

Except this time, Hope pushes her away, hands on her shoulders, taking a step back to get a good look at her. They look at each other, almost comically; Hope with an eyebrow quirked and Lizzie, with her mouth agape. Then, Hope’s strange behavior is perfectly clear –

“Who the hell are you?” 

------

[ PRESENT DAY ]

“Lizzie!”

Hope’s tired voice carries down the hallway. Behind her, Lizzie can hear her footsteps approaching – faster, faster – until they stop at her side, walking in tandem with her into the vast, otherwise dusty library at the end of the hall, where students gather quietly over a pile of books raging from anything about the occult to the mundane – European History and an old, thick Gaelic book about Magical Portals that thuds on the ground as it falls sloppily from the top of the bookshelf and almost takes Lizzie out. Talk about head trauma.

“Hey, watch it!” Lizzie looks up as dust gathers below her. Alyssa Chang stands on the top of the rolling ladder, shrugging nonchalantly. Whoops.

Lizzie picks up the book, coughs, swatting the dust away and piling it on top of Hope’s already busy hands. Hope says nothing, only blinks away the speckles of dust as she trails behind Lizzie with concern.

“I haven’t seen you all day. Is everything okay?” 

She shouldn’t be taken aback, but she is, by the genuine worried inflection in Hope Mikaelson’s voice. Hope is tired, the evidence marked clearly on her face, vaguely darkened circles under her eyes that Hope barely had mind to conceal this morning with even the smallest layer of makeup. No one would be able to tell, not really, but Lizzie can. She knows that look Hope carries around like a weight on her back when something’s been keeping her up at night. 

In front of the tinted window sill, Lizzie turns. The yellow light reflects off Hope’s exhausted, blue eyes, and Lizzie almost stutters, opting to instead, snatch the book back from the pile already gathered on Hope’s arms and toss it onto the nearest unoccupied table. 

No, Hope. I’ve been avoiding you all morning until this very unfortunate meeting where we’ll be subjected to a torturous hour of incessant nerd rambling on how to kill the very same monster that sent me through a hell portal into another dimension where I hooked up with you and your unforgettable muscles and now I can’t even look at you in the eyes without thinking about it, so–

“I’m fine”. Lizzie says, saccharine sweet. Too sweet. Enough to make Hope suspicious, as she looks at the book Lizzie tossed on the table with an eyebrow raised. “I was having a perfectly fine morning until MG interrupted my strictly scheduled morning meditation and after reluctantly agreeing to meet here in exactly five minutes, the kitchen was out of Belgian Waffles, so I had to settle for a non-fat Greek yogurt. So yes, I’ve been severely inconvenienced, but it has nothing to do with you”.

“I never said it has –” Hope starts. “Shouldn’t we talk about it? About what happened…” 

Lizzie stiffens. 

“With the monster…”

She deflates.

“We still don’t know if there are any side effects to any of this. Doctor Saltzman said you refused to talk to Emma about what happened –”

“And now you’re giving me advice about what I should and shouldn’t talk to our school therapist about?” Lizzie scoffs, on the defensive, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “That’s rich, Hope”. 

“That’s not what I meant –”

“Everyone at this school is so prolific at internalizing every shitty thing that happens to us on a weekly basis but since this one particular thing happened to me, then of course I’m the one who has to have the damage control, witchy therapy sessions with Emma despite the fact that I’ve already told everyone who’s asked that I’m fine!” 

“Lizzie –”

“Is that why you were looking for me this morning? You wanted to check up on me?” 

“Yes”. Hope says sincerely. Its her version of an olive branch – honesty. Lizze frowns, but Hope touches her wrist and she stays frozen in place, like she’s been jolted and immobilized by an invisible force. “The same night you found your way back to us you rushed into the woods on a near suicide mission to help me fight a monster we’re still not sure how to kill. Of course I wanted to check up on you. I was worried. You left my bedroom so suddenly last night that I didn’t even have time to ask how you were feeling. I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to come back. I wasn’t sure if we were ever going to see you again.”

Lizzie takes a breath, defeated. We, we, we – she has no right to be stung by the plurality of the word, but it gives her that feeling in the middle of her throat, like it runs dry, like one wrong word from Hope and she might break down in tears. 

“I want to make sure you’re okay”. Hope continues. “You’re my best friend”. 

And that’s the tragedy of it. She’s Hope’s best friend. Anything beyond that is nothing but something she could only clearly wish for in another timeline. One where Hope doesn’t know about her baggage, one where they got a clean slate to restart their history, no rumors, no backhanded comments…

“Me too”. Lizzie whispers. She brings her thumb up to brush over the side of Hope’s hand. 

She thinks about holding it. She almost does, until –

“Yo, guys. We should get this show on the road”. Jed interjects, seemingly out of nowhere, picking up the book Lizzie had discarded on the table earlier and hopping over the banister towards the center table in the now empty library, where the rest of the squad has now gathered around one of Wade’s Dungeons and Dragons books. 

By the time Lizzie pulls her hand back and they both gather around the table, Wade’s already settled in with the group.

“– That’s the thing though. Dimensional Warpers don’t usually engage in combat, but they do like learning about their enemies and their battle tactics. They’re not usually ones to initiate but they’ll fight if they sense that their life is in danger.”

“That explains why it disappeared last night and didn’t come back”. Hope pushes her way in between MG and Jed at the front and center of the table. “Do you think it’s after something?”

“Maybe. I can’t imagine another reason why Malivore would’ve spit that particular monster out. They’re elusive, hard to kill, and they only come out at night. Their night vision is impeccable”. 

“How do we kill it?” 

“Well, they are giant, bipedal, flying snakes, but they’re still snakes. I think we all know what the easiest way to kill one is –”

“Cut off it’s head”. Lizzie deadpans. Everyone turns, and Lizzie stands on the other side of the table, looking intently at the picture of the creature on Wade’s book. 

And Hope, looking at the magical artifacts on the far side display, slumps her shoulders. 

“We’re gonna need a very big sword”. 

------

[ 3 WEEKS AGO ]

“Is your name Lizzie Saltzman?” 

“Yes”. Between two slender and shaky hands, an orb flashes blue. 

Across the antique, expensive looking desk in front of her, and a family portrait in the space where a tinted window used to sit, Klaus Mikaelson looks at Hope with concern and curiosity. Hope, looking taller and prouder as her hand rests upon Klaus’ leather chair, gives him a side eye. 

She remembers Klaus from when she was younger, just as intimidating and commanding as he had been the day he’d sought out their help to save Hope from the Hollow all those years ago. She also remembers the Klaus she’s read about, in the books tucked away in the very same library a couple of doors down the hallway; the tales about The Great Evil. The boogeyman to end them all. The man who had terrorized Mystic Falls and claimed New Orleans like a dynasty, the man who had courted her mother until the day he died — but she also remembers the Klaus Mikaelson that Hope had told her about. The father. The man weighed down by the consequences of his choices and the drive to ensure his family’s survival, their safety, no matter the cost. In one universe, it had already cost him his life. In this one, the story seems to have been painted differently. 

In this story, Hope is different. She’s prouder, she wears a scowl like armor but not with the purpose of pushing everyone away. This Hope reminds her of an heiress. Someone destined to inherit something bigger and greater than herself. Maybe it’s all this, Lizzie thinks. The Mikaelson School. Maybe it’s another kingdom entirely. 

She looks… Good. Really good. 

“Are you Alaric Saltzman’s daughter?” Hope continues. 

“Yes”. Blue again. 

“That doesn’t make any sense”. Klaus moves to take the orb from her hands, but Hope is faster — much faster — grabs his father’s arm before he can snatch it. 

“Dad, you can’t fool the magical lie detector. They’re simple yeses or no's”.

Klaus respects her, she can tell, because he backs off and opens a drawer in his desk, takes out a heavy looking file — and pulls out a picture of her dad. He puts it in front of her. 

“This man is your father?” He asks her again. 

“Yes”. 

And like clockwork, the orb shines blue again. 

“That doesn’t make any sense —” Lizzie goes to interject but Klaus holds his finger up, standing from his chair with his hands behind his back, circling around the office like a man with a decision to make. Technically he is… a man with a decision to make. About her. 

Which really, really gives her the chills. The bad kind. 

“— You see, Alaric is a slobber of a drunk man who unfortunately lost his wife on his wedding day. He was supposed to father two children, twins actually, and his psychopathic to-be brother-in-law murdered his fiancé at the altar. His daughters perished with her. He lost his Tenure at Mystic Falls High, now teaches a second-rate-history class at a local college, and he let the rest of his dreams die in the bottom of a bottle of stale whiskey and fatty liver disease. That man never got to father any children. He’s barely a man at all. No purpose. No drive”.

“Apparently not in this life —” Lizzie mutters. The orb flashes blue and Hope’s eyes immediately snap to Lizzie’s. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” She’s the one taking the orb from her hands in a blink of an eye. She’s fast. Really fast. It takes her a second to realize, as Hope holds it between her fingertips and looks at her with blind distrust, that the Hope in this universe might not be jaded by the loss of her family, but this one might be jaded by something else.

Like her own death.

Oh. 

“You’re gonna want to sit down for this one”.

------

The Mikaelson School library is even bigger than The Salvatore School’s. The Stallions were branded as the rich, spoiled, and troubled children of Mystic Falls, but the Mikaelson school rivals the self-made stereotype by a tenfold. Lizzie’s staring at a row of books about magic she could have only ever dreamed of reading — it’s obvious to her that Klaus Mikaelson’s vision for a school for the Supernatural was slightly different than her father’s. Somewhere witches, vampires, werewolves and others could live their powers to their full potential. 

She picks a book from the rack, takes another one down with it, but Hope catches it before it can fully fall off the shelf — Necromancy: The Art of the Undead — and pushes it back in its place. 

“If what you told me is true then your father built a school with the same purpose my father did”. She offers. This Hope, now a little less guarded and lit by the light of the full moon by the library window, is much softer, willing to momentarily let her guard down around the pretty stranger with the wavy blonde hair. “He wanted a place where I felt like I belonged. Somewhere he could offer a safe haven not only for me, but for all the witches, all the vampires, and all the werewolves who are forced to do all of this all on their own. The world is cruel and unrepentant. My dad knows that. So he and my mom bought this mansion, expanded it, and made it into a school for the Supernatural. It’s taken off since; we have a branch in Belgium and another one in development in South America. Argentina. Something about the wine…”

For the first time since she’d been blindly dropped into this dimension, Lizzie smiles. But after a much noticeable glance at Lizzie’s lips, Hope continues. “We thought all the Gemini witches were dead. They’re rare. Powerful —” Hope says. It takes a second for Lizzie to notice she’s sizing her down. 

She doesn’t want to talk about how that makes her feel. 

“You have to take someone’s magic to use it, right?” 

And Hope offers her hand. Lizzie’s brows furrow, but she takes it anyway. She’s siphoned magic from Hope before, but not a fully triggered Tribrid Hope. When she drains her power Lizzie feels an adrenaline rush like no other, like sticking her hand directly into a fuse box and taking all the energy in Mystic Falls with it. She watches Hope carefully for any sign of pain, but Hope doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t move, only watches their joined hands. 

Then Lizzie raises her wrist, flicks it, and closes all the doors of The Mikaelson school in simultaneous fashion, making the building tremble. 

“Something like that”. Lizzie grins and Hope lets her hand go. She’s grinning back and Lizzie doesn’t know why that makes her feel drunker than taking all that power from her. “The stronger the source the stronger and the magic we can do, but we can take from anything that’s come in contact with magic. This building, for example. A vampire, a werewolf — miscellaneous…” 

“Well, here at the Mikaelson school we’re always looking for other powerful witches. I know you want to go back home eventually, once we figure out how to send you back, but if you want to stay, we can make room for you.”

They walk past the archway, to a display case with magical artifacts and weapons of all kinds. Some she recognizes, like the dagger that had started it all that brutally eventful day when Rafael joined the school, the urn, an enchanted compass, Papa Tunde’s blade…

“We’ve collected those over the years”. Hope motions to the display case. “Some of them were already in my dad’s possession before we put them here. The display case was enchanted by my aunt, so it’s practically impenetrable and impossible to open unless you’re a Mikaelson, but my mom thinks it’s important to teach these kids everything we can about magic and everything that could hurt them. Some of them —” She continues, sliding her finger over a display case of weapons. “— are just purely decorative though”. 

Lizzie watches Hope’s finger land on the glass over a large broadsword. 

“What exactly do you know about my family?” Hope asks. When she looks at the display again, Lizzie can see her own reflection next to Hope’s on the glass, and when she looks closer at the weapon, their faces on the side of the broadsword. 

“Oh, you have no idea”. 

------

[ PRESENT DAY]

Sparks cloud Lizzie’s vision. At the old mill, in the dead of night, Hope sharpens a sword Lizzie thinks is larger than her standing up. She’d poke fun at her, for wielding such a big weapon for such a small person, but if the past few weeks — days — weeks — whatever, had taught her anything, is how immeasurable the power Hope wields at her fingertips is. Maybe she could provide them both with a quip, if she wasn’t so busy staring at her, agape. 

God, get it together, Lizzie. 

She clears her throat and Hope stops. 

“Hey! I thought we could get a head start with this old thing. Your dad kept it downstairs but I think it’ll give us the firepower we need. It’s a shame though, it’d make for a nice decoration”. 

Lizzie wants to laugh. No, it would make for an awful piece of decoration. She’d seen it displayed neatly on a case, but ancient artifacts and old swords make her think of ancient cursed castles and the ghosts within them. 

“So asks-too-many-questions Hope has now become knight-in-shining-armor Hope. I gotta say, I think I like this version a little bit better”. 

“Because I’m not asking questions?” Hope challenges. 

“That’s part of it”. 

They both laugh, look at each other as Lizzie takes her place beside Hope, until Hope goes stoic again. She puts the blade down, wipes her hands on her dark jeans. 

“Lizzie, I know this isn’t by far the most threatening monster we’ve ever faced but, I think you should stay inside the school. Kaleb and I designed a foolproof plan to kill the —”

“Why are you sidelining me?” Lizzie frowns. “I was of perfectly good help last time you almost got sucked into a portal too, remember?”

“That’s not what I meant —”

“Then what do you mean Hope? I know this isn’t about glory. So what is it? Martyrdom? Pushing people who care about you away?” 

And Hope is surprisingly calm, despite the tension in Lizzie’s voice, despite the way she raises it, despite the way it cuts through the sound of the chirping crickets in the woods. “No. It’s the opposite, actually. It’s about trying to keep the people I care about safe. I don’t want you to end up somewhere you won’t be able to come back to us if we risk it”. 

“What about Kaleb, then? Surely you care about him”. 

A beat.

“Not the way I care about you”. 

They stand there, in the cold of the Old Mill, looking at each other as Hope picks up the sword on the table, and Lizzie realizes for the first time, Hope is making an entirely selfish decision… And it’s all about her. 

[woogyu]

A World Tinted Gold | Mingyu; Chapter Two

Kalon; beauty that is more than skin-deep

streamer!y/n x werewolf!mingyu

notes; werewolf au

word count; 1749

previous | next | masterlist

summary; The only werewolves you encountered were the ones living inside your video games. They were nothing more to you than mythical creatures you often had to kill in order to complete objectives. You had a good thing going with your online gaming setup. Your supporters were kind and usually tipped well during streams. Sure it meant you had to deal with the occasional creep sliding into your DMs, but it was worth it. Playing games online was putting you through college. Little did you know your quiet life was about to be turned upside down at the hands of someone you didn’t think existed outside of the virtual world.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Are you seriously watching that steamer again? Why don’t you just play the games yourself?” Seungcheol questioned as he stepped into Mingyu’s room, chuckling as the younger wolf quickly turned around and blushed.

“It’s not the same… I’m not really interested in the games, I’m interested in her” Mingyu admitted sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. He didn’t know what it was about you that made him so transfixed, but he had a hard time tearing his eyes from the screen. Hell, just the other day when you read his comment aloud, he was over the moon.

“It’s rare for you to show interest in a girl at all” Seungcheol remarked, eyebrow pulled up in question. Until a wolf found its mate there was little reason to get involved with or show interest in others romantically. There were of course some wolves that preferred being unmated; it allowed them to be explorative with their romantic partners. Not all wolves longed to find their mate, and not all wolves would end up finding their mates. He knew destiny had a hand to play in it all, but the thought of never finding who he was supposed to be with made the wolf in him whine. Mingyu wasn’t an unmated wolf that enjoyed exploring his options, he was desperately waiting for the day he met his mate. Right now, Mingyu wasn’t sure if he was simply lonely or if there was something more going on.

“There is just something about her…” Mingyu started, pausing for a second to find the right words, “I just have a hard time tearing my eyes away from the screen. There is something about her that just draws me in” Mingyu explained. He wasn’t doing a very good job at explaining the feelings that bubbled up inside him when he saw you on screen. When he tried to explain it he could never quite describe the feeling that settled over his chest and body, it was a warmth almost like a subtle glow within him.

Seungcheol didn’t comment on it any further as he moved into the room and crossed his arms over his chest. Mingyu knew better than to ignore the alpha, closing his laptop he turned to face Seungcheol fully. Their pack had a different dynamic than most. Normally a thirteen-member pack would be impossible because of the strain it put on the head alpha. It worked for them because while Seungcheol was their main alpha, they had two secondary alphas, Jihoon and Soonyoung. The three of them shared the work of looking after the group and it worked perfectly for them. He liked that the alphas didn’t abuse their power, there was a lot of lenience in the pack and it made for less confrontations.

“Joshua has to head into town tonight and won’t be able to run the perimeter. Would you be alright with doing it?” Seungcheol asked, pursing his lips as he looked down at the younger wolf. Mingyu normally enjoyed running the perimeter, it meant he got to shift and stretch his body, but this time he was a little bit more hesitant with his answer. Mingyu knew that later on tonight you would have a new video posted and he would have to wait even longer to watch it. It seemed like a silly reason, but his heart ached at the thought of not being able to ‘see’ you on screen until early tomorrow morning.

“Sure! I don’t mind” Mingyu answered with a half-smile, Seungcheol never asked him for much so he figured he could help him out with this. Seungcheol breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned back against the wall.

“Thank you, I didn’t really want to be the one stuck doing it again” Seungcheol admitted, the alpha had been on perimeter duty for the past 3 nights and must have been eager for a good night’s sleep. Mingyu smiled and nodded his head a few times, his own wants would just have to be paused for a little while.

Before leaving the room Seungcheol patted him on the shoulder, yawning a little bit as he headed toward what Mingyu assumed was his own room. Mingyu was thankful that Seungcheol’s parents had left him their families pack house. Coming from a family of alpha’s certainly had its perks, and it meant they all got their own rooms.

Once Seungcheol was gone he checked the time, he had roughly 4 hours before he would have to head out.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I just don’t understand what this trend is supposed to be” you complained to Ciri for probably the 20th time over your video call. Apparently, there was a trend going around among streamers to recreate video games in real life. You hadn’t thought much of it when it first gained popularity, but now Ciri thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to join in on it. Her big plan was a two-part video where the two of you recreated iconic aspects of the Witcher 3 video game. You should have known she would want to do it, she already owned a Cirilla cosplay.

“It’s going to be fun” Ciri reminded you, drawing out the last syllable as she drew a fake scar along her face, effectively transforming herself into the iconic video game character.

“Come on, I even sent you the Yennefer cosplay and everything!” she exclaimed, using her make up brush to point at the camera accusingly. You rolled your eyes as you reached up to adjust the dark black wig that you now wore. To her credit, Ciri had sent you everything you would need to transform yourself into Yennefer of Vengerberg. How she somehow guessed your sizing right you would have no idea. Probably the Witcher powers.

“I wish we lived in the same city” you sighed, leaning your head back and looking up at the ceiling. Things would be so much easier if you and Ciri, and the other girls, didn’t live so far away from one another. But that was the price you paid for finding your friends online.

“Me too” Ciri said with a gentle sigh, setting her make up tools down and picking up her phone, her face coming into full view.

“I sent you the script, I won’t be able to stay on the call with you while we are filming because data rates are crazy, but I know you’ll do amazing” Ciri said with a reassuring smile. You would have to film all of this on your own, which was just a little bit intimidating. Ciri’s script mostly just directed you to do a lot of handwaving and she would add in the ‘magic’ elements later.

“Just find a good spot in the woods and it’ll be perfect” Ciri finished with a nod of her head. You sighed, straightening yourself up and looking down at your phone.

“I’ll call you later on when I’m finished to send you the video” you mumbled, pouting a little bit as you stood and picked up your phone.

“Good luck!” Ciri told you, waving a little bit before ending the call. Great, now you actually had to go do it…

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were lucky there was quite a bit of woods around where you lived, the problem was going to be trying to get to the woods without anyone seeing the ridiculous clothes you were wearing. You threw on a huge coat, effectively covering up most of the costume. After grabbing the bag with your equipment, you ventured outside, keeping your head down as you walked to avoid drawing attention.

Twenty minutes later you were standing in the middle of a beautiful calm forest. Now that you were here you questioned why you didn’t come out here more often. You couldn’t hear the loud noises that came with living in a bustling city and the air felt fresh on your face. Once you reached a small clearing by a river you laid your things down and took a deep breath, basking in the coolness of the air. Maybe this trend wouldn’t be so bad.

After setting up your camera in a place you were at least half sure wouldn’t result in it falling over, you walked into frame and took a deep breath. You briefly checked your phone to see what Ciri’s notes asked of you, before you began doing your best to follow directions. Your portion of the video wouldn’t be long, but you did re-film it 4 times to try and get your motions to be less stiff.

After forty-five minutes of waving your arms around, you walked back to your camera, picking it up before taking a seat on a nearby log. Reviewing the footage, you winced at how awkward it looked, you seriously hoped that Ciri could work some magic on this because you didn’t have it in you to film it again.

The forest around you was darkening as the day began to draw to a close, but you couldn’t bring yourself to head back right away. The forest was too peaceful and serene. Reaching up you pulled your wig off, stuffing it in your bag as you sighed with relief. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, focusing in on the sounds of nature around you. Maybe coming to the woods would become a weekly thing for you, like therapy.

A low deep growl broke you out of your trance, your eyes flying open and flickering around to find the source. Your heart hammered against your chest, and your whole body stiffened in fear. A few moments later a dark black wolf emerged from the trees, larger than any wolf you had seen on tv. You could vaguely see blood dripping from its muzzle, and its dark red eyes were focused right on you.

It paused at the edge of the clearing, its lips pulling back to reveal sharp blood-stained teeth. Your breath came quick as you leaned back, unsure if you should run or try and hide behind the log. Both seemed unhelpful in this current situation, but you were really low on options.

The wolf’s body tensed before springing toward you. Your hands instinctively grabbed whatever was nearest to you, which happened to be your very expensive camera, and threw it toward the wolf. This did nothing to deter the predator from its prey, and within seconds the beast was on you.

[moogieandadhd]

ADHD Awareness Month Day 3: My Identification/Discovery Story

October 3rd, 2021

** CONTENT WARNING: This post discusses heavy and potentially triggering topics such as mental illness, substance abuse, and suicide. Read at your own  risk. **

i believe my diagnosis journey is one that many people - namely, other women - with adhd can relate to. in my elementary school and early middle school years, i was incredibly dedicated to school. i loved to learn. i was in gifted (advanced learning) classes. i was mainly an A-B student, but straight A’s were not a rare occasion. at home, i would do my homework and read for hours. i wasn’t very organized and i didn’t take the best care of myself in terms of hygiene. my teachers would write notes on progress reports and report cards: “so smart! a pleasure to have in class! however, her desk is always messy. needs to participate in discussion more!” and my parents would brag about my academic success to anyone who would listen. if you have adhd or are familiar with the different ways it can present itself in early childhood, can probably pinpoint everything that was a ‘sign’.

then, in middle school, i suddenly began losing interest in school. my grades and attendance began to slip. i didn’t read books anymore. i began to buck up against authority and befriend people who weren’t considered good influences. my disorganization and messiness turned into a whole new beast. to most people, this was just a typical teenage angst fueled by puberty and hormones. i would get over it eventually. i tried as hard as i could to fit in, all of my attempts were useless. i was rarely accepted - and when i was, it still wasn’t for the real me. my teachers didn’t give me the time of day and my parents always asked “what happened to you? you used to be so bright.”

the next that came was comorbidity. anxiety, depression, self-harm, substance abuse, self-isolation and s*icidal thoughts. i was placed into therapy in 8th grade after telling my mother that i did not want to live anymore. to my therapist, i was just a depressed and anxious teenager. she wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t exactly right. the first time i attempted to take my own life was the summer before i entered high school as a 9th grader.

in high school, i thought my depression melted away. i was still anxious, and i would have frequent panic attacks, but i was fine. i did drugs, i skipped school to go have fun somewhere else, i lied about anything and everything so nobody knew really how bad it was - i don’t think i even knew how bad it really was. i stopped seeing my therapist at the end of my 9th grade year. i was fine. but i still couldn’t bring myself to focus on the work in front of me at school, i couldn’t even pretend to. i couldn’t keep my bedroom clean. i was detained by police officers for trespassing and truancy but, at some stroke of luck, no official arrest was made. 

not long after, something clicked in my head and i knew i couldn’t live like this anymore. i still can’t pinpoint what exactly pushed me to try life again. i dropped out of high school my sophomore year and tried to do online high school in attempt to graduate. i ended up just getting my GED. i went to therapy again; this time, the therapist told me i was a lot like her other ADD/ADHD clients. this was the first time i ever heard anything like that. she recommended me to a psychologist who was shocked that i went this long - i’m now 18 years old at this point - without any kind of assessment or diagnosis that reflected ADD or ADHD.

after testing and ruling out other possible diagnoses, my psychologist gave me the official diagnosis of ADHD combined type. everything started to make sense - the times where i would try to do homework but couldn’t even get pass the first question, the times where i thought i was going to die because i was understimulated and bored, the executive dysfunction, the restlessness, the racing thoughts, and the more solid evidence that when taking adderall recreationally, that i felt the most clear-headed and calm in my entire life.

then i got angry. angry that, if i were a boy, i would have gotten a diagnosis a lot sooner and i could have had a better chance. i felt like my life was taken away from me. i was angry at my parents, at my teachers, at my old therapist, at my school counselor, at my friends... i sometimes still feel this way. it’s very hard to accept how different my life could have looked like had i just been listened to for a little longer. i was miserable.

now that i’m away from home; now that i’m in college, married, and slowly picking up the pieces from the teenager that i used to be that felt so betrayed, alone, failed; it’s a slow healing process. researching my diagnosis and staying in touch with my psychiatrist and finding help from other ADHDers is a weekly occurrence. i’m still so young, and i still have so much work to do - but i at least have the tools to get there. i’m sometimes still angry and my heart breaks for the me in the past. how i wish i could comfort her. it’s like mourning.

i’m slowly but surely climbing out of a dark place and getting to where i need to be. i have adhd and that’s okay. i’m not broken, i’m worthy of love and compassion and respect, i’m going to be okay. i just have to get to where i wanna be a little bit differently than most people.