#or better yet the generations of the Parents or the Kids

[atangledfate]

The blue hero shifted his weight as Belle spoke to him. He couldn't help but remember how they met. How he was so convinced she was just another baddie. Funny how the world works, and how she had become such a staunch ally of his. How he felt like he could trust her with nearly anything. If Belle had any real super power it was this unique personality that people found trustworthy. He didn't know how Surge or Kit looked at her, but he hoped if nothing else they'd come to tolerate her and maybe even call her friend.

Though hearing her shift the conversation to what she'd be doing in private. Well it did make his quills stand on end at the thought of it all. It wasn't that he didn't get it, he very much did. But he was also worried about her, worried what Eggman would do and how he might lose a friend. Yet there was this little glimmer in his mind that she might somehow get through to the man that was tinker, and bring him back as he still believed that he made the right call that day.

" ... Not sure i'd say bad... i ... i get it, if i could see my mom again i'd go to the ends of the earth for that. I know what it's like to lose a parent... and to blame somehow for that lose. "

He sighed softly and rubbed his arm remembering the loss he suffered as a kid, and how he still struggled with that.

" Just... be careful... No matter what the old codger says he's a schemer... honestly i'd feel better if you at least took someone with you... but i trust your judgement. "

===============================================

Jewel touched her chin as she to was somewhat concerned about this stranger. She wasn't sure if he was a friend or if there goals simply align in the moment. She wondered just who he was and yet she couldn't dwell on that right now. She had to quell this situation between GUN and Restoration before it exploded into an all out war between both sides. What she knew for sure was that neither of these two men could be trusted. She had to take every promise and request with a grain of salt.

" I can try to contact her though, i can't say if she'll respond. She's still a political figure in her kingdom. She may not even get the message in time... still i'll alert her to the situation. Hacking GUN's little communications block should be easy enough "

The beetle buzzed her wings and fluttered a bit up in the air so she was more eye level with the others. She was the director if anyone could fix this it had to be her correct? She had dealt with gangsters and mob bosses all her life! She was a Bijou after all and she wouldn't be bullied so easily! Delaying this conversation wasn't helping anyone--- it was time to put an end to this crisis!

" Putting this off won't do any of us any good. I think it's time i contact this president myself and have a direct conversation with him. Delaying it won't help any of us... and right now both sides are at a stalemate. He has to know an all out attack on us would be foolish--- So i don't intend to pretend otherwise. "

" I'll call and have a private conversation... i think it will be better if i separate this general from the president. A Private call is likely the best approach. At any rate... wish me luck... and i'll do my best to keep everyone safe! "

"I think them trusting me is a strong word, though they seem to tolerate me more that other's." Belle supposed they had some level of trust, though not much if she was being honest. The tinkerer has had a few casual conversations with them here and there, along with a few secret projects that she had intended to reveal before all THIS happened.

"Though it seems we might have a moment to ourselves so I might as well tell you what I want now." Belle would seem a bit nervous, taking a deep breathe to calm her nerves a bit. "So, um, I've been having lunch with Eggman every few weeks. I know, I know, it sounds bad, though I really feel like there's more to him than he lets on." The tinkerer hoped Sonic wouldn't be mad at her.

===========================================================

"Hm, that could be concerning, though it seemed this strange helped you so that's the important part." Blaze hoped this individual wasn't someone Starline put her DNA in if he had managed to get a hold of some. Though the feline should've been able to sense it as they'd be using the Flames of Sol. It's easily detectable to her.

"I feel as though our best chance would be to appeal to the President as opposed to the general. That said, maybe we should consider calling someone else for some assistance. Miles, do you perhaps think you can call Sally? She is more invested in the political world if I recall. Perhaps she could offer some level of assistance." Blaze couldn't remember the last time she spoke with Sally herself.

[avocado62524]

[bonefall]

My birthday was a couple days ago, and I got to see my bio dad for the first time in a while. He surprised me with the fact that I have a little half-sister, whom I've never met and who was adopted about two years back. So, I wondered if any situations in BB mimic this or have a theme of "secret siblings" or "secret family"? Sorry if this is a weird ask; this blog is honestly just such a cool little place and I love the way you approach the subject matter and take the flawed misogynistic foundation of the WC books and make them so much better (JUSTICE FOR BUMBLE!!!). I've also learned a lot about healthy and unhealthy relationships here and am really glad for your deep dives on Squilf and Bramble. Thanks, Bones!

Not weird at all! I really like exploring all the little nooks and crannies of complicated familial dynamics. I think one of the untapped strengths of WC (that the writers seem to be unaware of) is how their MASSIVE cast allows them to present all sorts of unique dynamics. So I like to pick up on it, since they don't.

For secret siblings...

I'm pretty heavily leaning towards Ambermoon being adopted by Wildfur, as a surrogacy. Something feels correct about it. Especially since Icecloud is getting retooled into a post-Battle of the True Eclipse birth, and a major supporting character in AVoS-era stories as a friend of Alderheart.

Thinking about it, I should zoom in and expand this. Maybe have Icecloud, somehow, acquire forbidden knowledge that would invalidate the Queen’s Rights and he (transman) struggles with if he's going to use it to expose his parents as an excuse to help Ambermoon.

(Especially since Ambermoon and Icecloud are basically nothing alike. Amber is independent, bold, and vain. Ice is jessie pinkman big-hearted, disorganized, and deceptively meek if you look past his "chill" demeanor)

But that's wip-- there's also Breezepelt and the Three, who are going to have an actual friendship. In particular I can't unsee Breeze and Lion having a deep one. I know I commit the Cardinal Sin of borderline himbo-ifying Lionblaze in BB, but I can't help it.

Hollyleaf ended up nabbing a bunch of his most violent roles to make her villainous descent smoother narratively, so BB!Lionblaze's story ends up being more focused on Ashfur's abuse, comic relief with cats in other Clans (something that the very serious Jay and Holly have a hard time providing), and the emotional fallout of the big reveal and Bramblestar's turn on them. Breezepelt slots neatly into that.

They were friends. Lionblaze's whole life came down around the reveal, everyone looking at him and his siblings differently, like they're suddenly something terrible. Why can't we find a silver lining, Breezepelt? Why can't we call ourselves brothers if the whole world is going to do it anyway? So much is changing, but THIS doesn't have to, we will take their weapon and turn it to armor, my ally, my friend, my brother.

(and when Breezepelt is lashing out at the three because of the Dark Forest's influence, Lionblaze is there, taking the blows and trying not to give in to the impulse to send him flying with a single paw)

There's also Harespring and Kestrelflight of WindClan and Owlclaw of ShadowClan. All of them are from a single litter between Whitewater and Mudclaw. She was going to raise the three of them alone as ShadowClan cats, but when the sire was smote, Whitewater felt they were cursed.

She was able to give the oldest two to their bio-uncle, Torear, but the weather was so bad that day and the runt was so sickly and small that it surely would have killed him. I don't think Owlclaw ever finds out why his mother always treated him with suspicion, but it did mess him up horribly.

Over in BB!DOTC, Thunder Storm is getting more half-siblings earlier. Clear Sky and Falling Feather had two daughters-- Pale Sky and Tiger Sky.

I want to explore the way that the various stages of Clear Sky's life acted on his kids. How any little curiosity Thunder Storm had about the life he might have had if he wasn't abandoned is crushed by seeing kittens who weren't. How Clear's favoritism of his oldest child set the trio against each other from the start. How this idea of "love" is toxic yet intoxicating.

It feels good to be the golden child. The power it gives you over his sycophants is satisfying. To know you, and you alone, have what someone else craves. Problem is, that's conditional, and it's cruel.

What Thunder Storm learns from his time with his biodad is that Clear Sky is not his father at all. He's taught him exactly what he DOESN'T want to be. There may be similarities-- in temperament, in physical prowess (though BB!Thunder is three-legged, he's still ripped), in taste and senses. But Thunder Storm's father is Shaded Flower.

(BB!Gray Wing died in the first book, rescuing Shaded Flower from being trampled by a horse. Xey're a patron of wisdom, Shaded Moss is taking the role of fatherhood to Thunder)

His sister is Rainswept Flower. His mom is Bright Storm. If there was a bond he could have had with Tiger Sky and Pale Sky, it dies simply and cruelly on the knife they used to cut each other out.

Pale might have wanted to mend it, she was the gentler one. But she dies in the First Battle along with her mother. Tiger Sky is too stubborn to accept any help, should Thunderstar offer it, and Thunderstar isn't in the business of begging for others to like him.

Naturally I'm lowkey obsessed with them lmao. I need to make a BB!DOTC overviewww

[crunchycrystals]

wow turns out life is just full of hard choices you have to keep making to be happy with yourself

[tedkaczynskiofficial]

@roach-pizza do you scream at the adults in your life? What can a child do that warrants screaming at them? If they're too young to understand being told what they did is wrong, screaming at them is going is just going to scare them. You are going to scare them, not whatever they did that makes you think screaming is warranted. If they're old enough to be spoken to... speak to them?

While I'll admit to not having kids of my own, I do a fair bit of parenting to my nieces/nephews, and I've never yelled or screamed at any of them (regardless of tantrums, being bitten/hit, stressful situations, etc). I genuinely don't think someone is ready for children if they think screaming at a kid is ever an appropriate response outside of really, really extreme circumstances.

That doesn't mean people don't occasionally fuck up, but like... apologize to your kid for your inappropriate behavior and try not to do it again. If I wouldn't scream at an adult (or I would at least apologize after the fact for it), I wouldn't scream at a kid.

A lot of people around me are having kids and every day it becomes more apparent that hitting your children to punish them is insane because literally everything can be a horrible punishment in their eyes if you frame it as such.

Like, one family makes their toddler sit on the stairs for three minutes when he hits his brother or whatever. The stairs are well lit and he can see his family the whole time, he’s just not allowed to get up and leave the stairs or the timer starts over. He fucking hates it just because it’s framed as a punishment.

Another family use a baseball cap. It’s just a plain blue cap with nothing on it. When their toddler needs discipline he gets a timeout on a chair and has to put the cap on. When they’re out and about he just has to wear the cap but it gets the same reaction. Nobody around them can tell he’s being punished because it’s in no way an embarrassing cap, but HE knows and just the threat of having to wear it is enough.

And there isn’t the same contempt afterwards I’ve seen with kids whose parents hit them. One time the kid swung a stick at my dog, his mother immediately made him sit on the stairs, he screamed but stayed put, then he came over to my dog and gently said “Sorry Ellie” and went back to playing like nothing happened, but this time without swinging sticks at the nearby animals.

[radiance1]

"Special delivery!" Shouted a boy, who should not be here at all speeding towards them on a hoverboard. Easily dodging the attacks that flew at him due to his sudden entrance with tricks and teases of "Miss me!" or "Even my dad can shoot better than that!"

Regardless, he came to a quick stop before the Flash, rummaged around in his pocket and throwing something into the air that quickly became a green shield that looked like a Lantern contruct but yet not quite.

"Fenton-made Ghost Shield Generator, or GSG for short." The kid shrugged, quickly reaching into his fanny pack and pulling out a full box of takeout that shouldn't have been able to full in there, warm and ready, and held it out to the Flash. "Usually, I would charge extra for it, but you can have it on the house!"

Flash and the boy exchanged their goods, food for money that the boy swiftly counted through. Unconcerned that he's one a battlefield while Flash ate his food.

"I might order from you again, honestly." Flash said, and the boy gave him a smile. "Please do! It's not every day we get someone from the League as a customer! Oh right!" The boy dug around in his pocket for something, pulling out a glowing green sticky note and putting onto the Flash's forehead.

Who didn't take any offense to the action, only letting out a confused gesture towards it.

"Something about warning you about something in the future, I don't know really." The boy shrugged, adjusting his stance on his hoverboard and hitting a button with his foot. "All his sticky notes are really cryptic though, cause he's just like that."

The GSG dropped into the boy's hand, staring at it for a moment before throwing it over to the Flash. "Eh, you can keep that. I can just ask my parents for another one anyway." He sped off, giving the hero a wave as he cackled while dodging more attacks. "Keep up the great work!"

Then he disappeared into a green portal, which closed behind him as quickly as it opened.

[skyedancer-system]

Going into Poppy Playtime Chap. 4 I was not expecting to get halfway decent plural rep but here we are????

Spoilers for the new chapter under the cut, and also cw for all the general Poppy Playtime stuff (child death + experimentation, body horror, if you know the game you get the gist)

SO THIS GUY HUH

Doey the Doughman, the surprise character revealed just days before the chapter dropped and who finally answered the question of the red/orange/yellow hand imagery we’ve been getting teased with for so long

In the chapter himself he’s pretty important to the plot and is an ally to the player, Poppy, and Kissy for (most of) the chapter, and he’s a pretty nice guy just with a bit of a temper, and very overwhelmed by having to keep the Safe Haven together and protected in Poppy’s absence.

But his personal story? How he was created via Playtime Co.’s Bigger Bodies Initiative? Oh god it’s honestly one of the most messed up ones yet other than Yarnaby (and that’s saying something considering this is child experimentation we’re talking about, and Yarnaby lost his entire self and was treated like a straight up animal, isolated so he would love and obey Harley and only Harley)

Where most of the living toys were made from one child, Doey was made from three. Jack, a visitor to the factory that got caught in a freak accident and was taken into Playtime’s care for his medical recovery. Kevin, a problem child in the Playcare known for his anger issues. And Matthew, an extremely kind boy who tried to keep hopes up among all the orphans in the Playcare, and was a sort of leader to them.

And all three of them are still present in some form; at various points in the game you see them switch, speaking and thinking differently, with varying opinions on everything happening. And from the tape of the Jack’s parents seeing what Playtime did to their son, we see that the three have separate memories as well, at least they did when they were first put together.

And this plurality that was forced onto them isn’t played for scary points like you’d expect from a mascot horror game. Yes it is part of Doey’s monstrous design once they get upset, but them being upset is because everything they had worked to protect was destroyed by the Prototype. All of the other kids turned toys that had kept their consciousness and relied on Doey for protection, mercilessly killed. Anybody would be horrifically upset in that situation. And one of the three boys - Kevin - lashes out at the player, the other two trying to calm him down only for all of them to fall into anger and emotion.

You can clearly see the three kids; one angry, two sad, all of their emotions coming together into a grief induced rage, with physical pain only compounding it. And when you eventually have to kill them and put them out of their misery, their last words?

“I’m sorry.”

They were just kids; three kids forced into a horrible situation and having to learn to live with it. And for a long time it seems that they did, working together rather peacefully until their lives were upheaved by the arrival of the player and Poppy’s reappearance.

Kevin’s anger at everyone and the world is completely justified; I mean he and the other two were experimented on and then kept caged like animals, being practically forced to kill! He wanted to protect them; to avenge the countless others that had been killed by the Playtime scientists and the Prototype! And considering things only went to shit after the player and Poppy showed up? Well it’s no wonder that anger got directed at them

It it a super good depiction of plurality? No, not by a long shot. But it’s definitely way better than I would expect from a game like Poppy Playtime.

I was not expecting this post to get this long whoops fbsnbdns; if anyone else has anything they want to add though we’d love to hear it!

[afterglowsainz]

don’t wanna break up again | oscar piastri

pairing: actress!reader x oscar piastri

summary: you never go to any of oscar races and he’s always been okay with it, until he’s not

fc: rachel zegler

warnings: angst

a/n: i am in such an oscar kick lately you cannot physically stop me (i’ve also never wrote angst before this is so fun!)

—

liked by oscarpiastri, gracieabrams and others

yourusername vacation barbie☀️

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username uhmmm ???

username obsessed with her going on vacation instead of supporting yet another one of his boyfriend’s races

username so now she’s not allowed to go on vacation after working for five months on a movie? grow up

oscarpiastri the prettiest🥰

username oh to be called the prettiest by oscar piastri 😩

username so beautiful 😍

username respectfully looking 👀

username day number 482927 praying for y/n to attend a race

username at this point i feel like the only way she’s attending is if she has to promote a movie or something

username petition for y/n to be in that f1 movie they’re making just so we can see her at the paddock once

liked by yourusername, mclaren and others

oscarpiastri absolutely love austria 🧡

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username that’s my driver right there !!!

yourusername so well deserved❤️ (liked by oscarpiastri)

username another podium where y/n wasn’t present😊

username i could treat you so much better i swear!

mclaren incredible drive oscar🧡

georgerusell63 👊🏽👊🏽

username next podium is a win👀

liked by gigihadid, oliviarodrigo and others

yourusername star of the year is insane! thank you so much for this award and to all of you, i love you all to the moon and back and without you this wouldn’t be possible🫶🏽 thank you thank you thank you ⭐️

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username so so well deserved y/n congrats! 🎉

username ms. rabbit has fainted

username oh she just looked unreal tonight 🤩

username she IS the star of our generation 👏🏽

oscarpiastri couldn’t be prouder❤️

yourusername love you! 💘

username she’s just THAT GOOD

username star of the year indeed😍

liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

oscarpiastri incredibly proud of the most talented, hard-working, brightest woman i know. you’re not only the star of the year you’re also the star of my life and i know there will be many more awards to come your way🌟

tagged yourusername

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username oh

yourusername i can’t put into words how much i love you❤️

oscarpiastri ❤️

username now i just know he did not went out of his way to go to this award show for her during a race week and she can’t even be bothered to go to one (1) race

username he literally made a post about the critics recognizing her work as an actress and you’re commenting stuff like this? jesus

mclaren congratulations, y/n! 🧡 (liked by yourusername)

username y/n they will never make me like you!

username cutest couple🥰

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and others

oscarpiastri hungary will always be in my heart 🇭🇺 🫶🏽

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username obsessed with the first picture

username about to tattoo this whole race in my forehead brb

logansargeant congratulations mate🎉

username TWO MCLAREN MAIDEN WINS THIS YEAR ARE YOU KIDDING ME

carlossainz55 congrats oscar👍🏼

username so rookie of the year of him 😩

landonorris congrats muppet 🍾

yourusername so so proud of you congratulations my love‼️❤️‍🔥

oscarpiastri 🥰

username girl you weren’t even there…

liked by lilymhe, taylorswift and others

yourusername six weeks of breathing clean air, i still miss the smoke.

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username no way they actually broke up😭

username can’t believe it’s been six weeks i thought they were gonna get back after two days

username but why is she calling her relationship with oscar toxic? 😔

username at least she’s going out!

username oh you know it’s getting serious when she’s pulling out the taylor lyrics

username refusing to believe my parents are divorced (i’m older than them)

username finally we’re out of the trenches‼️

username currently praying for oscar’s next girlfriend to be supportive🙏🏽

comments have been disabled.

[mcflymemes]

PRE ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue to help set up already existing relationships between your muses and give them past scenarios to reference, adjust as necessary

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS

we were only kids back then. we didn't know any better.

you promised me we'd be friends forever.

you've changed quite a bit since i saw you last.

how are your parents doing? will you tell them i said hi?

i've known you for years, and you haven't changed a bit.

you've always been like this.

remember the last time this happened?

sure, i made a lot of mistakes, but so did you.

do you remember how we met?

you always stood up for me, no matter what.

i've always had a lot of love in my heart for you.

when i was struggling, you were always there for me.

I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY

i thought i told you to stay away.

you've got a lot of nerve, showing your face around here again.

i really don't want to see you again.

you're supposed to call and warn me before you show up here.

there's never going to be a "next time."

this is the last time you show up like this.

last time i said i never wanted to see you again, and yet here you are.

you can't just show up here unannounced.

you remember what happened the last time you showed up.

every time you show up here, shit hits the fan.

you're putting us all in danger by showing up here.

don't you have somewhere else to be?

ROMANTIC FEELINGS

i'm sorry, but i can't stop thinking about you.

after the time we spent together, you've been on my mind.

can we discuss what happened between us?

the last time i saw you, you were going to say something... and then you stopped.

did you mean it? any of it?

i wish we were still together.

would you go on another date with me?

it's hard to deny how you make me feel.

you've always had an effect on me.

i can't stop thinking about the way you look at me.

GENERIC "I'VE KNOWN YOU FOR A WHILE"

do you remember what you told me?

i can't believe this is happening to us again.

the last time this happened, we were better prepared.

i tried calling you a hundred times, but you never answered.

this was never supposed to end like this.

didn't you see my text?

i know you better than anyone else.

you can't lie to me. i can tell when you're lying.

you're making "the face" again.

you promised me you'd stop doing that.

[kumasakka]

Can I request a fic for the gen 1 kings with a baby. Where they do the challenge where the parent lays their head on their babies lap to see their reaction, and their baby is really affectionate, cuddling, or babbling to them.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. gen1 x reader ( jaegyeon na, seongji yuk, taesoo ma, jichang kwak ) .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. imagine the kings of the first generation had babies and laying their head on the lap of their super duper wuper cute kid ?

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.2k , ~0.5k words each .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff, fluff, fluff. f!readers. you all are adults! gen1 (seperately). self - made au! safe for minors! crappy writing. they may seem ooc. Itriedmybest.

　“HEY, little fella.”

JAEGYEON NA was... a little special as father, always calling him other names and instead of treating your son like his own, he treated him like he was some podcast listener. But yeah, your son wasn't anything better.

He was after all, an exact copy of his father, babbling many incoherent words and then running all over the place to search for his mama. Yes, this little fella was exactly like his father. You don't have any doubts.

"Hah... I'm so tired!" Jaegyeon sighed out, acting tired as he fell to his knees.

"Aren't you cute?" he grinned, laying his head on top of his son's lap, "of course you are. You're my creation."

[son's name] puffed his cheeks, wrapping his tiny arms around the head of his father before beginning to babble. It sounded like he was complaining about something — anything.

Well, and then — [son's name] giggled, wiping his drool and snot away with his hands, using those same hands to hug his beloved father once again. "Erm... So, we need to work on that attitude. How could you?" Jaegyeon huffed, ready to sit up again.

That was until [son's name] was holding onto him, hugging his head with all his might, but it was still easy to get out of his grip. And yet Jaegyeon acted as if it was the hardest, falling softly back on to the lap of his son.

"Damn you..." he sighed, his grin turned into a smile as he heard the cute giggling.

　“YOU should try that, you know?”

SEONGJI YUK turned to you with a curious gleam in his eyes. Wow he was so innocent that you wanted to squeeze him tightly and baby him. He looked like a baby! "Try what?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Lay your head on [daughter's name] and watch what will happen!" you chuckled.

What? How can he lay his head on your daughter's lap? She'll break. Or her legs will grow tired quickly. Isn't his head like, real heavy for her? Should he just shut up in his mind and try it?

Carefully and slowly, Seongji sat down on the floor beside his child and listened to her giggling. After hearing her laugh of excitement, Seongji's worries faded quickly, no hint of doubt was visible. Why did he even doubt himself?

He laid his head on the tiny legs of your daughter, his eyes watched how she began giggling louder and how she babbled something in her own language. Oh how much he wanted to understand her incoherent words. It was a mini you!

A grin appeared his pink lips as [daughter's name] placed sloppy kisses on his face, painting his clean skin with her drool. He could get used to it. Really. "I'm glad you're a mini [name]." he said.

If it were for a mini him, would his mini him also kiss him so affectionately? Should he... test it out?

　WHENEVER he enters the room, TAESOO MA can only watch how you wrap your arms around your son and lay your head on his lap. And then — your son gets ten times more happier. Why?

Good question, next one. Today he'll find out for himself, stealing your son from you while you were sleeping. Fortunately [son's name] didn't fall asleep yet, not as quick as his mother.

"Don't tell your mother, but I think i'm your favorite." he said, sitting next to his son as he observed how he played with his absolute favorite toy. "We have the connection, you know?"

"You wouldn't... mind right?" Taesoo mumbled, laying down on his back and then placing his head on the lap of your son.

For a moment of silence, Taesoo really considered if he should stand up right now and hide in your shared bedroom forever after your son only blinked at him, not moving an inch.

Well, what do we say? The doubts disappeared as soon it came as [son's name] latched himself onto Taesoo's head, his giggles and cute sounds of incoherent words filled the room.

"I knew it." he could NOT hide his growing smile.

How could he when his soon placed small kisses on his ugly scar? How could he not let the tear glide down when Taesoo was filled with absolute joy?

　“YOU can take care of her, right? I'll believe in you, busy husband.”

Those were your last words as you disappeared from his sight, dropping your little daughter — little him on his office table filled with stacks papers. Why did you leave her in his hands again?

Yes well. After spending the last days with the cutest babygirl in the entire world, you couldn't help but think that she and her father should also spend some quality time together.

And then you dropped her off in his office to throw yourself into bed. To be honest it was a bit tiring to watch after her, even though you love your daughter with all your heart — watching her alone made it a lot harder.

So yeah. That's how you kill two birds with one stone. Getting some rest and making the two of them spend some time together. It wasn't hard to figure out for JICHANG KWAK that you were tired, considering the growing eye bags.

That's also why he say anything as soon as you entered his office. He was a smart man at the end. And he loved you. And your daughter. So of course he wouldn't mind watching over his own daughter.

But things have their limits as you daughter began to throw some important papers around the room, making Jichang sigh out before picking her up and walking over to the couch.

"You little troublemaker. I wasn't like that when I was in your age..." he sat her up on the couch, "I hope..."

No doubt that it was his daughter. With similar looks and also sometimes matching his tired old man personality. But that was sometimes! As soon as he stood up to return to his table, he got stopped.

His eyes wandered down to see a little hand gripping onto his sleeve of his suit, an innocent and wondering expression vivid on her babyface. God was she cute. He understood why you pinched her cheeks whenever you saw her.

"Yes?" he asks as if she could answer. But she actually did reply with babbling and a bewitching sweet smile, "you want me to stay here for a moment?"

It's not like she actually said that. He just guessed what she said, now sitting down beside her. Yet she didn't let go which was strange. Is there something else she wants besides her father sitting beside her?

She huffed and pulled onto his sleeve, "strong" enough to make him fall down onto the couch — Jichang just let her pull and leaned down slowly. At the end, he found his head on her lap.

"That's what you wanted?" he chuckled amused, raising an eyebrow, "should've said so."

"Dada!" she giggled, letting her tiny arms fall on top of his face, covering his sight and mouth while beginning to ramble incoherently about something.

And he listened. Sighing out with a smile. Maybe it wasn't that bad to let his daughter drag him away from work.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's — so erm, sorry for the delay ! I have an exam tmw and I'm lowkey dying cuz it's winter, meaning exam phase... but I should think positively, because after this week and next week I finally have christmas holidays ! ><

[girlgenius1111]

all that i did to try to undo it

engen!reader... platonic ingrid & reader + platonic mapi & reader

r lives with her sister, but their relationship is rather rocky. can they fix it before it's broken beyond repair? angst. pretty much just angst. r is not mentally well. proceed with caution.

–-----

Moving from Norway to Spain wasn’t your idea. It seemed that your parents had had quite enough of you. You knew you could have been better behaved, but you hadn’t realized they were so frustrated that they were willing to send you away. Not until it was too late. 

It was your friends, back in Norway, that were the issue. They were why you snuck out and drank and cut school and generally broke all the rules that had been set for you. And this was why, when you arrived in Spain, it all… stopped. Mostly because you barely spoke Spanish and had no friends. Also because Ingrid had adopted a rather tough love attitude with you. She was strict and cold and you knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any missteps. And honestly, you didn’t know where you’d go if Ingrid decided she didn’t want you around anymore. Not that you were sure she really did in the first place; you were pretty convinced that she was doing this as a favor to your parents. She didn’t want you here, and you weren’t going to push her to do something about that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Ingrid did want you there. It had been her idea for you to come to Spain in the first place. Your parents were at a loss with what to do with you, and Ingrid was tired of hearing how frustrated they were with you when she knew you were just trying to get their attention. She decided she could probably do a better job, simply by just paying attention. And so she did. She moved you in, she got on your ass about your responsibilities and your future, and you hadn’t yet put a toe out of line. Your sister was determined that you assimilate, thinking it would make it easier for you, so she only allowed you to speak Spanish in the home. She had Mapi read over your essays, and help with your grammar. She drove you to school everyday, and made you all eat dinner together as a family every night. It seemed to be working. You were quiet, but behaved. Ingrid was pretty convinced she’d done a good job, and solved the issue. You were a teen, and she figured you didn’t need her trying to hangout with you all the time. 

So, while Ingrid paid attention to your school, she didn’t pay much attention to you. She didn’t know you didn’t have any friends at your school, or that a lot of the kids were pretty cruel to you. She didn’t know school had turned into an entire nightmare, and that you had to push through an insane amount of anxiety just to walk through the front doors every morning. She didn’t know that you were behaving because you were scared of her kicking you out. She didn’t know you were desperately sad and homesick, not even allowed to speak your language in your own home with her. She didn’t know that all you wanted some days was for her to just pull you into a hug, and tell you she was proud of you. That she loved you. 

Why would she? Your parents clearly didn’t. Ingrid had no reason to either. 

Mapi had some reservations about the way Ingrid was with you. It was a complete 180 from the Norwegian’s normal demeanor. Ingrid was smiley and warm and silly with the younger girls on the team, and stern and harsh with you. Mapi noticed the way you watched your sister with her teammates, face full of jealousy. As time went on, though, and you didn’t cause trouble, Ingrid became more and more sure that her approach was the right one. Mapi still wasn’t as convinced. She wasn’t quite sure it was her place to say anything, though, so she kept a watchful eye on everything, and made sure to make you feel like their home was yours too.

You didn’t quite know what to make of Mapi, honestly. She was clearly infatuated with your sister. And she was always so kind to you. Mapi made you coffee every morning, made sure to buy all your favorite foods at the store, and she reminded you, repeatedly, that if you ever wanted to talk, about anything, she was around.  But Mapi was Ingrid’s. Not yours. If Ingrid was so reluctant to show you any affection, you shouldn’t seek it out from her girlfriend. 

You were quietly miserable. Ingrid thought you were okay, finally mellowing out. Mapi was caught somewhere in the middle, seeing both the side of yourself you hid from your sister, and the neutral façade you put on in front of her. 

For you, things couldn’t get much worse. Or at least, you didn’t think so. 

------

It had been a while since you’d gotten in a fight. You’d forgotten how good it felt to punch someone in the face who very much had it coming. 

It was your birthday. You would have forgotten, too, if a few of your old friends hadn’t texted you. Ingrid had forgotten. You’d woken up to her knocking on your door like she always did. She was focused on the important training session ahead, and barely spoke to you on the way to school. She’d forgotten your birthday, and you thought that it hadn’t bothered you. Until the idiotic group of boys was following you down the hallway, saying awful things. Until you’d snapped back at them in a way you never did, and until they began throwing punches. And you didn’t run. You turned and you fought and you let your anger and your hurt out for the first time in months. For the first time since you left Norway.

 There was an odd sense of calm that washed over you, waiting in the dean’s office for your sister to arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, in that moment, what she would think. Your hands hurt, your face hurt, and you’d finally stood up for yourself to the awful boys that wouldn’t leave you alone. 

When Ingrid walked into the office, though, an absolutely livid expression on her face, you realized you did care. Very much. You had been waiting on the dean, and although he was a scary man, you would have rather faced him at that moment. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ingrid hissed, grabbing your face in her hands and inspecting your wounds. 

“Ing,” 

“Do not. I cannot believe you. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your explanations. You are going to apologize to the dean, take your punishment, and we are going to go home. I’ll deal with you there. Understand?” 

You lowered your head, nodding. She took the seat on your other side, still visibly angry, though she softened for just a second as she looked closely at your hand. 

“Is anything broken?” She asked quietly. Your eyes flooded with tears at the question, everything inside of you screaming to lean into her arms. She was angry, you thought. She was angry, and she wouldn’t want to hug you right now. 

“I don’t think so.” You mumbled instead. 

“Good. María will patch you up when we get home.” Her tone was cold again, and you began to zone out. The dean walked in, spewing a long lecture. He didn’t tell Ingrid that you hadn’t swung first, or that the boys had been bothering you for weeks. He didn’t tell Ingrid what they called you, or that it was three 18 year old boys against an 18 year old girl. He just said that the school didn’t tolerate fighting, and that you would be suspended for a week. 

The worst part was that Ingrid didn’t even ask what happened. Not in the office, not in the car, not when you both got home. You used to get into fights all the time, back in Norway. She thought this was more of the same from you. Your sister stormed off to call your mom the minute you were in the house, leaving you standing in the entry hall in front of Mapi, eyes fixed on the ground. 

Mapi’s hand was gentle when it rested on your back, gently guiding you up the stairs and into the couple’s bathroom. She sat you on the counter like you were a little kid, and pulled out the first aid kit. Only then did you raise your head and look at her. You thought she would be mad, but she only looked concerned. 

“She hates me.” You said it before you could stop yourself, and your voice shook over every syllable. Mapi’s face melted, and she shook her head insistently, carefully wiping a tear off your face. 

“No, nena. She’s upset, but she loves you very much.” Mapi seemed convinced. She loved your sister, after all. And though you didn’t know it, Mapi had been a witness to your sister worrying over you for 2 years now. 

There was no use arguing, so you stopped talking again, and Mapi got back to cleaning your face up. She asked you a couple questions in English about things that hurt and didn’t hurt, and you responded in English. Mapi had moved on to cleaning the cuts on your knuckles when Ingrid appeared. 

“Can you bend your fingers?” Mapi asked. 

“Yeah, it’s a little sore, but I can bend them.” You replied. 

“Español.” Ingrid scolded. You nodded, correcting yourself quickly, now trying to stifle the flow of tears flowing from your eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” Ingrid asked, stepping in closer to study you closely. 

“Okay. Hurts a bit but I’m fine.” You said softly. 

“Do you promise it just hurts a bit?” Ingrid asked. 

“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Your body didn’t hurt that bad. You hurt though. Every inch of you ached with a deep sadness, a deep loneliness. But that wasn’t what Ingrid had asked. 

“We have a dinner tonight, a team dinner. Will you be okay here if we go?” 

A little bit of you shattered, then. Maybe you’d been hoping that Ingrid had remembered your birthday, had been planning a fun dinner or something. Clearly not. 

“Yeah. I’ll get a head start on my homework.” You managed, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying. Ingrid nodded, satisfied, but Mapi didn’t look away from you. 

“Are you sure? You look a bit upset, nena. We can stay if you need us.” 

You shook your head harshly. “No, I’m fine. Promise.” 

You were very far from fine. You needed to be alone, though, if you were going to feel every complicated emotion raging through you. 

------

“Ingrid,” Mapi said suddenly, about halfway into their drive to the restaurant. Ingrid hummed in response, looking over at her girlfriend from the passenger seat. “Your sister said something today. And it seemed like she really, really believed it. I think you need to be a little easier on her, amor. She’s just a kid.” 

“What did she say?” Ingrid wondered, head stuck on that comment. 

Mapi hesitated, well aware of how hard this might hit Ingrid. “She said you hated her. She was pretty convinced, Ingrid. How mad were you at the school?” 

Ingrid sighed roughly, running an exhausted hand over her face. “Fuck. She’s always been dramatic, I forget that she’s just… sensitive sometimes. I was pretty harsh.” She admitted. 

“Amor, I know you think this strict approach is working, but I don’t know. She seems so sad sometimes. She’s just a kid, and she’s doing her best. I think she needs you to be a bit… softer with her.” Mapi suggested, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks, if not months. 

Ingrid was quiet for a while. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought it was working, but then today happened. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Why don’t you just… talk to her? What was the fight even about?” Mapi asked. 

Ingrid didn’t respond, her frustration with herself quickly replacing her frustration with you. 

“You didn’t ask?” Mapi sighed. 

“No, but the dean didn’t say either.” Ingrid defended halfheartedly. 

“That probably isn’t a good thing mi amor. We’ll talk to her when we get home. Figure out what’s going on.” Mapi declared. 

“We?” Ingrid asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“We.” Mapi affirmed, looking cautiously at her girlfriend. “Is that okay?” 

“More than okay.” Ingrid assured her. “I think she might need both of us.” 

It was clearer, now, to Ingrid. Suddenly, and very painfully. That she’d gone about this wrong. The extent of the damage that had been done was not yet to be realized, though. 

--------

The silence that echoed through the house was what got you. Today, on your 18th birthday, you sat alone at the kitchen table, tears falling freely from your eyes. They stung the cuts in on your face, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It felt like wherever you went, you messed up. Wherever you went, you weren’t wanted. When you’d come to Norway, you’d had hope that maybe things would be different. Maybe Ingrid would treat you differently than your parents. She had, but you still didn’t feel loved. It felt like there was something fundamentally wrong with you that drove everyone away. You just wanted to make it better, and yet, at the same time, you felt so incredibly hopeless. Like there was nothing in the world you could do to make your family love you. You supposed it was your fault; you’d been acting out for years. Everyone was bound to get tired of you. You didn’t want to be like that, you just didn’t know what else to do. The age gap to your siblings was huge, your parents were tired of being parents, and no one had any time for you. Or the desire to make time. You’d done the only thing you could think of at the time to get their attention, and it had only made things worse. You had only made things worse. 

And still, a part of you was angry. Furious. Did you have to be perfect? Did you have to make no mistakes? Shouldn’t they love you regardless of all that? There was no consistency in your brain; sometimes it all felt like your fault, and other times it felt like there wasn’t anything you could do right. 

You felt the inexplicable urge to apologize. Really apologize, really explain.  Maybe they could forgive you. Maybe Ingrid could forgive you, maybe you could get her to understand. You didn’t think you could make it through an entire apology, though, not verbally, not face to face with your intense sister. So you got out a piece of paper, and began writing. 

Ingrid,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good enough. I’ve tried, I promise I have. Sometimes I feel like it isn’t possible for me to meet your standards, but I still try. 

I’m sorry about the fight today. They came at me, I swear. These three boys have been bothering me since I've arrived, and they say horrible things to me, and I just snapped. I should have just kept quiet, and they never would have started the fight, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that. 

I’m sorry I’m always home and bothering you and Mapi. I’m sorry I haven’t made any friends here, and I’m sorry my spanish isn’t perfect. I’m sorry I'm so miserable. I don’t know why I can’t just be happy, but I can’t. I want to be. I really do. It just feels like you’re always mad at me. I feel like such an awful person no matter what I do. Mom and Dad didn’t want me. And I don’t think you want me. I don’t think I want me either, sometimes. 

I’m trying to like it here, but it’s so different. I miss Mom and Dad, even though I know they don’t miss me. I miss my home and I miss Norway. I miss my friends. I didn’t really feel like I belonged there, but at least it was familiar. 

I think I’m mad at you, too. You’re my sister, Ingrid. Do you always have to be so harsh with me? I think I’d be happier, if you seemed happier that I was here. 

You forgot my birthday. Mom and Dad didn’t remember either.  I turned 18 today. I turned 18 today, and you and Mapi went to dinner without me. I made a sandwich and ate it by myself in the kitchen. I’ve never felt so worthless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I just want you all to love me again. I want to love myself again. I think I’d do anything, to feel like I have a family again. 

I’m so desperate I’m writing you this absurd letter that I’ll probably never give you. I don’t know if I can give it to you. I’m scared to give it to you, and I’m scared not to. 

I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m scared because it feels like no one would even notice if I was gone. It feels so easy. Everyday it feels like it would be easier. 

I guess I’m asking for help, Ingrid. I don’t want to ask you to fix this for me, but I don’t think I can do it myself.  I want to be better, I want to

Your writing cut off abruptly, as the front door opened. All you felt was panic. You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably on the couch with the letter almost completed in front of you. They weren’t supposed to be home yet. The event was supposed to be a long one, and you’d planned on leaving the letter, if you were brave enough, on the kitchen table, and going to bed. Handing it to your sister face to face had never been the plan. You weren’t even sure it made any sense, and you weren’t sure you wanted to give it to her. 

The front door swung open anyway, and Mapi walked into the house. You remembered, then, that she was always coming home early. She had a follow up appointment for her knee the following morning, and she hadn’t wanted to be out late. Alexia had driven her home early, not wanting a late night herself. Ingrid was still at the dinner, but Mapi was here. Standing frozen in the entryway, with a perfect view of the disaster you were on the couch. You were frozen, and she was frozen, but then she was moving, moving closer to you, and you couldn’t you couldn’t you couldn’t. 

“Pequeña, what is it? What hurts?” Mapi asked urgently, moving to sit next to you on the couch. She thought you must be hurt, physically. The thought that the agony on your face could be from anything else didn't even enter her brain. 

She sat next to you, and you were still frozen, not even able to move the piece of paper out of sight. 

Mapi saw it. You were using one of your textbooks as a surface, not unlike how you did your homework. Your favorite pen was in your hand. And resting in your lap, on the textbook, was a piece of paper that somehow radiated pain. Mapi was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing, and you were still frozen. Frozen, staring at Mapi like you were afraid of her. Very suddenly, Mapi was terrified. 

“Nena, what is this?” She asked softly. It was to Ingrid. Written in Spanish. Mapi saw her name in it a few places as she scanned it over, before she looked back up at you. “Nena?” she prompted again. 

This time, you did move. You jolted forward, reaching for the letter, a deep gasping breath escaping your mouth. Mapi held it out of your grasp, her eyes stuck on one sentence, the only sentence that she’d read so far. It had jumped out at her. 

“I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me.” 

An instantly, Mapi knew she couldn’t let you take the piece of paper back. She knew she needed to call Ingrid and tell her to come home. She knew she couldn’t let you out of her sight. You were so fragile, though, sitting in front of her like you were second away from shattering into a million pieces. Too many pieces for anyone to ever be able to fix. 

“Nena, I think I need to read this.” She whispered, watching carefully as you pulled your hand back towards your body, as you curled in on yourself, and began to shake with silent sobs. 

And then Mapi read the letter. With one hand on your back, and one hand tightly clutching the paper, she read the most painful thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. It tore her apart, reading how you felt. 

And it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for Ingrid. And, ridiculously, Mapi wished she could fix it before Ingrid ever read what you’d written. Mapi would have done anything in that moment, to make things right with you, and to make sure Ingrid never had to know how badly she had hurt you. Because realizing it would hurt the Norwegian just as much. 

Mapi ached to tell you so many things. That Ingrid loved you so much, she just wasn’t sure how to help you. That she thought what she was doing was working, helping. That she was sure Ingrid didn’t know the date, or she’d have never forgotten your birthday. That she knew Ingrid would do anything, anything in the world, to fix this. That Mapi was sure both she and Ingrid would go back in time if they could, and fix everything that had gone wrong. 

She couldn’t force that all on you now. She couldn’t defend Ingrid, or herself. 

Instead, she placed the letter carefully on the table, and sent Ingrid a very brief text. 

“You need to come home now. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, but you need to come home.”

Instead, Mapi pulled you into her lap, and held you so tight it almost hurt. 

Instead, your sister’s girlfriend, who owed you absolutely nothing, told you, over and over, how very loved you were. How proud she was of you. How her and Ingrid were going to fix everything if it killed them. 

They’d fix everything before it killed you. 

------

🙂

[amazinglyashy]

Hi hello!!! I saw tons of your work and I'm very impressed with your skill! If I may, may I request the LaDS Men with Reader who sometimes stare at kids who are having fun with their parents or spending time with each other because Reader doesn't have a good relationship with her family and felt envy to those kids who got to spend time with their parents.

I wanted to know how would they react and do! If my words are confusing, feel free to DM me! Thank you for your time!!

Everyone keeps yelling at me in the tags about me personally attacking them with some of my posts, yet YALL ARE ATTACKING ME WITH PROMPTS AS WELL, POT MEET KETTLE! Thank you so much for this prompt <3 I felt this one personally :'D So I had fun writing it!

LaDS men when you get emotional in public seeing parents and their kids in public

Zayne -

It's… difficult for Zayne to watch.

He knew you when you were both younger, but old enough to know that what was happening to you was… not good. But still too young to do anything about it himself.

It hurts to see you look at families and know exactly what's going through your mind in that moment, but he does his best to quell his own emotions and keep them in check. You don't need to be worried or feeling any kind of guilt for making him feel hurt on your behalf. He wants you to express things in a way that'll help you, without being conscious about how he might be feeling.

Zayne stays quiet though. Sometimes it's good to get you away from the bad thoughts wracking through your mind, he knows that. But other times? You have to process it. You have to get through the painful and the ugly in order to start healing, and you have to do the fighting on your own. Inside your head, where he can't help you.

But out here?

He'll do anything for you.

Anything you ask, anywhere you want to go after you snap out of your envy and thoughts, you can consider it done.

He might not be able to help you- might not be able to stop those feelings of envy and sadness from even entering your mind before they make a home there, even if for a little while-

But he'll help you in any other way he can.

Sylus -

"The people closest to you might be the ones who want to kill you the most."

Sylus keeps so many tabs on you, even prior to your eventful meeting, that he knows good and well what the relationship with your family looks like. And there's more than one reason to why he said this to you, gun in your hand and legs straddling his lap. He may not believe they want to kill you, or may be he does depending on the circumstances, but what he does know is that you're safe with him regardless.

That doesn't solve the whole 'emotions' aspect of it, however.

He'll place a hand on the small of your back, ushering you forward. It's not that he doesn't want you to watch the family, it's just he can see the clouds forming in your eyes, and he'd rather you get emotional somewhere more private, for your own sake. He didn't need you feeling humiliated for getting misty-eyed in public on top of the already complex emotions you were already feeling.

Even if you're not close to tears, it's still better to him to get you away. He wants you to feel safe enough to do so, if your feelings bubbled up unexpectedly and you suddenly needed to cry, he wanted you to be somewhere you could.

And he knows you know you're already with someone you could cry around, as well.

Sometimes, he'll ask about it, just to allow you the space to vent. Oftentimes, he just keeps quiet, letting you process the thoughts going through your mind.

He's right there though, no matter what you may need.

Xavier -

"That looks good, would you like one too?" He'll ask, referencing the ice cream cone the kid is holding, knowing fully well why you're staring.

He has his own generous share of family and parental issues, so he knows how you feel. And after hearing some of your childhood memories, whether they were about your feelings or if he just gathered that information from in between the lines- he can relate to you well.

But... he'd rather not let you dwell too long, if he can help it.

The way he sees it, is you already spent a long time in pain. Years upon years of it, wondering if you would ever get the approval- love, care- from your family that was never going to come. Your own forever waiting and hoping and trying to make a relationship work that was always destined to fail, because the deciding factor on it's success or failure was not on you. It was never on you.

And he doesn't want you to waste more time feeling sorrow over something you've already dug a knife into your gut over, so many times already.

But if you need to- feel what you're feeling, be a little wistful, or even cry- he's here for you. He's here for you no matter what you need.

A shoulder to cry on, a big hug, a favorite movie on the couch later that still reminds you of a time where you chased after affections that were sadly never meant for you- but the happy parts that made you laugh alone in a room raised on a television-

He's got you.

Rafayel -

Rafayel's heard the stories.

Whether it's about your babied little sibling getting a bike after asking once when you spent years begging and saving to buy your own, being treated to the bare minimum of care by your parents, or something more insidious-

Rafayel has heard all of the stories from you by now.

So when he sees you looking abnormally long at a family, when nothing particularly funny is happening- the kid isn't saying something insane, the parents aren't trolling the kid, etc- and he sees your far-away expression, it's like he's pulled up a chair in the recesses of your mind to join you in your melancholy.

It's better than you suffering alone.

"Hey cutie. How's it going?"

He'll ask you after a while, having been with you the whole time, so he knows exactly how it's going. But his words are less out of concern for you and more to snap you out of the daze you're in. He doesn't mind if you feel sad, he's here for you no matter what, but he just doesn't want you to start and spiral.

He knows there's not really anything he can do. It's just a part of you now, the pain of the relationship you'll never get to have, that's nearly there but just an inch away from your fingertips every time you reach for it, no matter how much you try and strain yourself to grasp it. And he knows he can't exactly fill that hole.

But damn if he's not going to be with you throughout every bad thought, bad day, bad experience.

You're stuck with him, and he'll love you through it all.

[masteri-0]

Just had a sudden thought of Dragon!Shen Yuan (or any creature really) AU, where it was like a normal rite of passage for parents to raise their young (protectively, they're not jerks, just uh, very unsafe for human children, or just humans in general...), then throw them into some sort of extreme trial to prove their strength, when they're deemed ready. Oh, and it was normal, expected, even, to take a go at your parents and try to murder them as a proof of superiority, or smt like that. Doesn't mean they don't love each other! Dragons just have a different way of showing care, that's all. What's a lil play fighting?

Anyw, main point is, SY transmigrates into SQQ with this mentality. Sees his cute little sheep. Falls in love instantly and adopts him. But oh! Oh, the protagonist is so weak, so malnourished! He's gonna nurture him and make sure he's well taken care of! Such a scrawny little sheep can't possibly survive anything! Oh? What's that? He has to push the scrawny baby into the abyss? Well! Makes sense, but that's years into the future, and he has time to make sure they grow up big and strong yet! Cue all the canonical pampering.

I'd imagine during LBH's disciple days, he receives a lot more comments about him going out into the world, and there's less matchmaking from Shizun, since SY believes that girls will flock naturally to him if he's strong enough, so there's also more emphasis on his training, as well as the training of other disciples on the peak. I'm not sure how he'll react to Bai Zhan disciples. Does he comment on their strength and set off the QJP disciples, causing an interpeak war? Does he still hold the same annoyance for them and property damage?

By the time the IAC rolls around, SQQ has already sent his not so little white sheep all over to gain experience, and deemed him ready for his 'coming of age' (close to human adulthood too, he'll do fineee). There is far less tears and hesitation. When the time comes and LBH's seal is broken, SQQ feels the increase in power and the last of his worry dissipates. He basically just looks at his kid, nods, and chucks him in. Dusts off his hands and pats himself on the back. One child down, however many more to go. Oh, they grow up so fast... (Was LBH freaking out during this? Oh well, must be the nerves, he knew the feeling well. But he's read the book and knows what's going to happen. His kid will be okay, and he'll naturally gain confidence after surviving in there!... No one ever said dragons were GOOD at feelings ...)

Of course, it takes some time to adjust to the absence, but there's less grieving and freaking out over his impending doom. Sure, he's judging the original work a little. Limbless and hanging, really? SY much prefers a clean death, thank you. (How he died in his previous life is up to interpretation). But that's besides the point, his favourite is off on his trial, and it's about time to test a few of his other kiddos too (single dad to, uh, how many?)

Shen Qingqiu gains reputation as a sadistic (?) teacher that puts his disciples through dangerous missions seemingly without care, but unlike in the past, he seems to love the kids and dotes on them off-missions, so no one's really sure what's going on with... That. (He's still waiting for one of them, any of them, to try and kill him? Where's the bonding?? Was he not doing enough???)

So when LBH returns, things go uh, differently. SQQ is just here, waiting in anticipation, appreciating how his kid's all grown up, and seeing the scheme to unfold. Safe to say, people are confused. (Him, especially. What do you mean, his kid isn't trying to kill him?? Really, where did he go so wrong in parenting? None of his kids want to bond with him the proper way!!)

(I imagine SY being a better fighter than in canon due to literal trial of fire as a dragonet, and I'm not sure if he would've gotten hit with without a cure at all during the invasion in consideration of this)

[0vergrowngraveyard]

It wasn’t a very long nightmare, but it was enough to make him jolt awake, chills running down his spine and panic filling his chest.

Sonic wasn’t a stranger to having bad dreams, but they didn’t happen very often. Dreaming in general just wasn’t a very common occurrence for him. He usually just closed his eyes and woke up hours later, there was nothing in between.

But there were times after an adventure, a particularly close call, or just having a rough day that his usually peaceful sleep would be interrupted by nightmares that would force him back into the waking world. Images of what could’ve happened if he hadn’t acted in a situation that more often than not ended in death, either his own or someone else’s.

That someone else was usually Tails, which was what he was dealing with now.

Their latest encounter with Eggman had gotten a little too dicey for Sonic’s liking. Not for Sonic himself — the more danger he was in, the better — but Tails had almost gotten hurt. Really hurt. A bot nearly self-destructed right next to him when he’d gotten caught on something and it was by sheer luck that Sonic spotted it when he did.

If he’d been too late, even by a second…

The next thing he knew, he found himself standing in Tails’ room, watching over the kit’s sleeping form. Sonic didn’t remember getting out of bed at all, but whatever. He was here now and he didn’t really want to leave, not yet at least.

Tails had gone to bed at a reasonable time tonight, but that was only because he’d been awake for almost forty-eight hours beforehand. Whenever Sonic was out on a run, Tails would forget to take care of himself. He’d barely eat, sleep, and he only drank water when he felt a headache coming on. It worried Sonic to no end, yet he’d get brushed off when he brought his concerns to light.

Sonic didn’t need to question where Tails got that from.

He sat down on the kit’s bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. He simply watched the kit, observing how his ears and muzzle twitched in his sleep. Unlike his big brother, Tails always seemed to have very vivid dreams. Sometimes, he’d tell Sonic all about the story that played out for him overnight in such excruciating detail, it was like he just watched a movie. It sometimes made Sonic a little jealous if he was being completely honest.

However, vivid dreams also meant vivid nightmares and Sonic had definitely heard about a fair share of those, so maybe he wasn’t that jealous.

A sigh broke through his defense as he turned to look down at his hands. It was times like this when Sonic began wondering how life would’ve been different if he’d gone through with his original plan when he first took the kit along with him. If he’d actually found a family to look after him and love him and keep him safe; a family that would keep him away from Eggman instead of letting the kit nearly get blown up by him.

Life would’ve been much lonelier for Sonic, sure, but at the very least Tails would’ve been able to have a normal childhood, whatever that meant for a kid like him. He would’ve had two parents to look up to, maybe other siblings to play around with. He would’ve gone to a regular school, probably skipped several grades because that's just how smart he is, made friends closer to his age and who shared his interests.

He could’ve had a normal and stable life.

But things didn’t end up going in that direction. Tails’s role model and only family was a guy who threw himself at danger whenever he could. He didn’t go to school and most of his friends were much older than him and struggled to follow along with his ramblings whenever he explained something he was passionate about. His life was always at risk, whether it was working with dangerous chemicals or helping Sonic save the world from whatever ancient deity Eggman awoke that month.

With Sonic, his life was anything but stable. Chaos, they’d been homeless for years. Living off the land and whatever people gave them to survive. Sometimes they wouldn’t eat for days at a time. Sometimes one of them got sick and there were no hospitals in the immediate area, leaving the other to play doctor. There’d even been times where Sonic lost him either in a town or he didn’t notice the kid falling behind until it was too late.

Even now that they had the Mystic Ruins workshop, Tails was left alone for days at a time. No big brother to monitor him and make sure he properly took care of himself. No one home to stop him from working himself to the point of exhaustion just so he could prove himself useful.

As if his presence alone wasn’t enough to fill Sonic with the confidence that they’d get through whatever was thrown their way.

There came a point where Sonic just couldn’t let the kid go, as selfish as the choice may have been. He just couldn’t. He’d fight to keep his little brother by his side, he did fight. He went to freaking court so he could get legal guardianship over the fox. And if, for whatever Gaia forsaken reason, the system ruled that he was unfit to be Tails’s guardian, he still wouldn’t let them take him away. He made the decision long ago that this kid was his, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.

Sonic had gotten attached, but sometimes he wondered if that attachment had been a mistake. He hated thinking about it because this little fox kit truly was the light of his life, his best friend, and his little brother who he loved dearly, but he couldn’t help it. The thoughts would just creep their way into his mind from the dark crevices of his room at night.

What if Tails got hurt trying to protect him? What if Sonic failed one day? What if Sonic had failed yesterday? What if this was a dream and his nightmare was what really happened? What if—

“Sonic?”

His brain screeched to a halt immediately as he looked over his shoulder and caught two sleepy eyes looking up at him. “Wha’re y’doin’?”

The hedgehog just blinked at him for a stupid second as he tried to regain his composure. “Just checking on you, bud.” He eventually responded, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he reached over to scritch behind his ear.

Tails leaned into the touch with a hum, “Y’need somethin’?”

Sonic shook his head, “Nah. Just go back to sleep.”

Tails gave him a confused look but ultimately let it go, snuggling further into his covers. He closed his eyes and Sonic was sure he’d fallen back to sleep. With a sigh, he stood up, taking in one last look over the kit’s face.

He looked peaceful.

Sonic frowned and turned away, making his way towards the door and being careful about avoiding any creaky floorboards. He didn’t need to keep the kid awake longer than he already had.

“You can stay if you want.” Sonic jumped, not expecting to hear Tails’s voice again. “If you had a nightmare or somethin’. I don’t mind.” The kit shifted over, making room on his pillow for his big brother. He looked at Sonic over his blankets almost expectantly.

Sonic considered the offer, a small smile tugged at his mouth as he put his hands on his hips, “Are you trying to comfort me or do you just want something to latch onto?”

Tails gave him a half lidded stare—or he was just barely keeping his eyes open—before he shrugged with one shoulder and laid back down, “It’s your choice. If you wanna go back to your room and deal with your nightmare alone instead, be my guest.”

A knot formed in Sonic’s stomach. It was the same knot that formed whenever Tails tried to comfort him. He appreciated it, he really did. Sonic was so lucky to have this kid in his life. A kid who cared so much about him and who’d do anything to make sure his big brother was happy, or at least not as sad. Tails was always successful. Just being near the fox seemed to always be enough to soothe whatever negative emotions were worming around in him at the moment.

If Sonic was upset, he needed his best friend and little brother around.

But that’s where the knot came in. Tails shouldn't have to worry about his emotions. Sure, he was the smartest and greatest kid Sonic had ever met, but that didn’t change the fact that he was, well, a kid. He already had so much on his plate, way more than he should. His big brother being upset shouldn’t be added to that.

Sonic sighed, turning towards the hallway and away from any kind of comfort. The air around him felt colder as he walked out of the kit’s room, it felt heavier. He stole one last glance at Tails snuggled up in his blankets before shutting the door and making his way back to his room.

He paused in his doorway. His room was much darker than Tails’s, much emptier too. Sonic wasn’t afraid of the dark by any means, nor of what was in it, but simply walking over to his bed and laying down felt like such a daunting task. Exhaustion weighed him down and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and wake up the next morning like nothing had happened.

Sucking in a deep breath, he forced himself to move forward, just like he always did. One foot after the other. There was no need to stop until he reached his goal, no reason to look back.

Sonic flopped down onto his bed, the mattress bouncing under his weight. He rolled over onto his back, limbs sprawled out as he stared up at the ceiling. Unlike Tails’s ceiling which had little plastic glow in the dark stars attached to it, Sonic’s was blank. Just an empty void staring back at him.

The void began whispering to him the longer he looked so he closed his eyes, determined to fall back to sleep. He wasn’t about to let a stupid nightmare of all things keep him from getting his precious sleep, even one as terrifying as the one he’d had that night.

He was Sonic the Hedgehog, for crying out loud. And Sonic the Hedgehog didn't get caught up on dumb nightmares.

He could ignore the sheer terror that flowed throughout his body, the heart shattered scream that burned into itself his memory and the thick red liquid that shouldn’t have been there. He could ignore how broken his baby brother’s body looked, the wide eyed and lifeless stare pointing directly at him, and the all too familiar laugh reverberating around him, saying that it was all his fault. That it will be his fault.

When that time comes, it will be all his fault.

He could ignore the tears threatening to slip out of his eyes as the words sunk in, but he couldn’t ignore the sudden feeling of something—or someone—landing down on his stomach hard.

A winded oof escaped him as he quickly tried to sit up, only for his efforts to be in vain as the weight on him refused to move. His gaze turned unimpressed as his hand settled on the culprit’s back, “So. Did you forget how to knock or something?”

The only response Sonic got was muffled by his sheets, which managed to get an amused snort out of the hedgehog, “I can’t understand a thing you’re staying, lil bud.”

Tails lifted his head up with a huff. “I said your door was wide open.” His head promptly flopped back down onto the bed.

“My door was wide open.” Sonic repeated.

“Mhm.”

“So you took that as an invitation to jump on me and wake me up?”

“Mhm.” Tails lifted his head up again, “Also you weren’t asleep.”

“Oh yeah? And how did you know that?” Sonic asked, hand moving to scritch behind the kit’s ear.

“Just did.”

Sonic just hummed. That was probably the best answer he was gonna get, no use in questioning further. If there was anything else, he’d say it on his own. With a content sigh, he closed his eyes and focused on the fox kit laying across his stomach. Whatever darkness had crept into his mind slowly disappeared as Sonic continued to pet his little brother’s head.

He could hear the faint sound of Tails’s purring, its vibrations sending an almost calming sensation throughout his system. Eventually, the kid moved so he was snuggled up against Sonic’s side, his paw curled up into a fist as it rested on his tan chest. Sonic looped an arm around him, keeping him as close as possible.

They laid there in silence for a while, Sonic gently scratching the kit’s back as his own breathing began to settle. He could feel himself finally starting to drift off to sleep and assumed Tails already had. That is, until he felt the small fist on his chest tighten.

“You sounded sad when you were in my room,” Tails finally admitted, “And I know I said I didn’t care, but I didn’t really want you to be alone. And I knew you’d tell me to go back to my room if I told you that so I just jumped on you. That way you couldn’t send me away.”

Sonic’s eyes slowly opened as he stared at his ceiling once again. The darkness that looked back wasn’t as intense as it was before, but it was still there. Before he could respond, Tails added one last thing, “And before you say you wouldn’t have, last time I checked on you when you had a bad dream, you just told me to go back to bed. You tell me that every time.”

“I wouldn’t have this time.”

Tails scoffed, “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

Sonic couldn’t bring himself to respond to that because, as much as he hated to admit it, Tails was right. He probably would’ve told him to go back to his room tonight too; would’ve sent him away for just trying to help.

“I just don’t want you to waste your time worrying about me, kiddo.” He said, “You’ve already got a lot going on, way more than someone your age ever should, and my dumb issues don’t need to be added to that list.”

“I can’t help worrying about your dumb issues, Sonic.” Tails huffed, “You’re my brother. Of course I’m gonna worry about you. ‘S what family’s for.”

“Bud—“

“No matter how many times you tell me not to worry, I always will and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

A fond smirk tugged at Sonic’s mouth, “Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Tails confirmed, “Now go to sleep. ‘M tired.”

Chaos, what was he going to do with this kid? “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Goodnight, little bro.”

“Mmm g’night…love ya”

Sonic simply hummed in response, but Tails got the message all the same. The hedgehog stayed awake as the kit’s breathing evened out almost immediately. The kid really was that tired, huh? Made sense considering he was woken up from what appeared to be a pretty deep sleep. His breaths had a little whistle to them, making it so that Sonic could hear every time Tails breathed in and out, in and out, in and out.

He’d also be able to tell if his breathing stopped.

His eyes closed tightly as the unwanted thought bounced around. Tails was fine. Sure, he’d been rudely woken up because Sonic wasn’t able to get a handle on his fears, but now he was right next to him. Sonic could keep him safe if anything happened. He would always keep him safe.

Whatever happened in his nightmare would never become a reality. Sonic wouldn’t let it.

He rolled over and curled around the little fox to the best of his ability, pressing his forehead against Tails’s. Sonic forced himself to copy the rise and fall of his chest as his quills raised instinctively, ready to protect them both from the non-existent threats in the dark as they slept.

Apparently they hadn’t stayed raised for too long considering he woke up to Tails holding onto him, arms wrapped around his middle with a grip that he wouldn’t be able to escape from without waking the kit up. Fondness squeezed his heart just as tightly as he chuckled softly, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to relax a little longer.

He could tease him about it later.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

THE HUNDRED DOLLAR LOVE AFFAIR

After picking up a job at the local pet shop, you learn very quickly that your coworker is a pest you can’t shake all that easily. When he grows to believe he could have you wrapped around his finger if he tried, he’s even bold enough to make a bet on it. Unfortunately, he won a long time ago.

TETSURO KUROO X F!READER

𐔌 . ⋮ CONTENTS ◞ smau hybrid, implied to take place in the summer after grad, friends to lovers, I’m not in college so likely inaccurate descriptions, miscommunication, probably somewhat ooc, (light?) angst, reader has parental issues, reader jumps to conclusions (she is me), they’re all just really stupid like I’m pissed off and I haven’t even written it yet, alcohol usage, crude humour, foul language, individual chapters have specific warnings, 🏷️ denotes written parts

MOODBOARD | PLAYLIST

𐔌 . ⋮ MEET THE EMPLOYEES <- [collective intros]

◞ YN LN :: fuzzy socks, late nights spent staring at the ceiling, Things to Do by Alex G, loving like a cat, humming lullabies to a loved one, a wardrobe filled with everyone’s clothes but your own, indirect displays of love, whispering “I love you” when you think they’re asleep, caramel, everything or nothing

◞ TETSURO KUROO :: messy hair, teasing, car rides, cheesy singing and using a hairbrush as a microphone, lying your head in your lovers lap, playful boasting, the sidewalk rule, looking for them in a crowd, sparing others emotions at the cost of your own, becoming a mentor to everyone you meet, determination

⌗ CHAPTER 00 | kitty cat

⤷ let’s take it back to the beginning…

⌗ CHAPTER 01 | kuroos out the window 🏷️

⤷ the new beginning… of the end?

⌗ CHAPTER 02 | son in law

⤷ he’s got a brain worth killing for, that’s for sure.

⌗ CHAPTER 03 | common beggar 🏷️

⤷ …or maybe not.

⌗ CHAPTER 04 | plotting

⤷ kuroo is a protein bar dealer..?

⌗ CHAPTER 05 | alternative strategies

⤷ tetsuro kuroo (23) 🌽⭐️

⌗ CHAPTER 06 | home depot

⤷ maybe he isn’t completely oblivious.

⌗ CHAPTER 07 | right side of the sidewalk 🏷️

⤷ get an umbrella and stop being in love. ew.

⌗ CHAPTER 08 | maurice

⤷ STOP RUNNING WITH SHARP OBJECTS ALL OF YOU

⌗ CHAPTER 09 | hips don’t lie

⤷ I thought your people skills were better than this?

⌗ CHAPTER 10 | kool kids club 🏷️

⤷ tw parental issues. ice cream, broken plates, and longing gazes.

⌗ CHAPTER 11 |

⤷ tba

⌗ CHAPTER 12 |

⤷ tba

⌗ CHAPTER 13 |

⤷ tba

⌗ CHAPTER 14 |

⤷ tba

⌗ CHAPTER 15 |

⤷ tba

STATUS ◞ ongoing TAGLIST ◞ open :: 40/50

⤷ @adoresia @kawoala @sahrii @angeleilee (<- asked to be tagged. Extended taglist will not be tagged on the masterpost.)

General tags (only for mlist): @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @lizbix @aldebrana @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee

❝ Made up a game . No pain, no gain . Until you break . Make no mistake . I will pull it together . You can love me . Forever and ever ❞

a/n — FINALLY. been in the drafts since the Kilby girl masterlist was first posted and it’s been staring at me longingly ever since, i could feel it. I did project on this one a lot haha… haha… sorry

P.S. Posting schedule will be worked out in the future <3

[mrsonmyr]

just us

summary: it’s the summer of 2003. sidney realizes his feelings for his childhood best friend before he leaves for rimouski

pairing: sidney crosby x female reader

wc: 5.1k

It was a quiet, muggy August night in Cole Harbour, the sun was setting and the sky was streaks of coral and pink hues, the buzz of cicadas filled the silence between houses.

Sidney Crosby stood at the base of the oak tree in your backyard. A tree he had climbed hundreds of times to get your attention from your bedroom window. He glanced up toward the familiar second story window. It was open, like it always was in the summer evenings. A soft yellow light poured out of it, and the hum of some indie playlist drifted down to him.

You were up there. Maybe sitting cross legged on your bed like you always did, maybe scribbling in that journal you never let him read, maybe thinking about him, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

It was getting harder to pretend.

You’d grown up together— through scraped elbows and failed math tests and late night pond skates. You knew him better than anyone else.

He picked up a small pebble and rolled it in his palm. He didn’t throw it, though. Not yet. There was a part of him that wanted to just stand there, rooted under that tree, watching the light spill out from your room like it was sacred.

Summer was ending. He was leaving soon. You were headed off to Dal.

So he tossed the pebble.

It tapped the window just light enough not to piss off your dad.

A few seconds passed before your head appeared through the open frame. You looked down, narrowed your eyes like you were trying to pretend you were annoyed. But the corners of your mouth twitched. “Sid,” you called. “If you scratch my window again, I swear to God—”

“You say that every time,” he grinned.

“And one of these days, I’ll mean it.”

“I need a goalie.” He says with a smile, tossing another pebble up and catching it midair like he had all the time in the world.

You raised a brow, arms crossed. “It’s late. Who’s playing hockey at this hour?”

He shrugs. “Me. Maybe you. Come down.”

When you were kids, you were fearless. Or at least, that’s how everyone saw you—diving in front of slapshots, chasing rebounds like your life depended on it, standing in the net without pads while Sidney Crosby wound up from halfway across the driveway. Parents used to wince. His mom once joked that you’d grow up with a dent in your shinbone shaped like his slapshot. But you never flinched. Because to you, playing goalie for Sid wasn’t just a game. It was yours. A ritual. Summer evenings, scraped knees, sweat-stuck shirts, and Sid’s laugh echoing off the pavement.

You would’ve stood there forever if it meant he’d keep looking at you like you were invincible.

But then time happened.

Sid got taller. Way taller. His shoulders filled out, his voice dropped, and his jawline could probably cut glass. He still looked at you like you were his person, but sometimes his gaze would linger a little longer, and you could feel something unspoken start to settle between you.

You stopped dressing like one of the boys. Not because anyone told you to—but because you wanted to. Wanted to feel pretty. Wanted him to notice.

And he did.

He never said anything, not out loud, but you caught it. The way his eyes would flick down when your shirt rode up during a game, or the way he’d go quiet when your cherry lip gloss caught the light. He wasn’t subtle—not with you.

You’d lean back on your elbows after a game, tired and breathless in the summer heat, and his eyes would rest on your collarbones just a second too long before he looked away like it burned.

And then there were the others.

The neighbourhood boys started making comments. Not about you directly at first—just about girls in general. About legs and low-cut shirts and what they’d do if they had five minutes alone with so-and-so behind the bleachers. You weren’t stupid. You heard it all.

Sid heard it too.

The first time someone made a comment about you, it was subtle. A joke. One of his teammates nudged him and said, “Your goalie’s growing up, huh? Damn, if she was mine…”

Sid punched him. Hard. Right in the shoulder. Told him to shut the hell up.

“Hey, don’t joke about Sid’s girl.” Another teammate laughed.

“She’s not my girl,” Sidney huffed, feeling something hot and messy climb into his throat. “She’s just my friend.”

But the words felt wrong the second they left his mouth.

His friend. Yeah. Sure. The same friend he looked for in every room. The one whose number he knew by heart, who could read him better than his own parents. The one whose lip gloss he could taste in the air before she even said a word. Who’d been his summer, every summer, since they were eight years old.

The guys laughed it off, turned their attention back to the rink, but Sid’s jaw stayed tight.

Because the thing was—he hated the way they talked about you. The way they looked at you now, like you were just another girl in shorts and a tank top. Like they hadn’t grown up watching you block every slapshot with nothing but a broken stick and guts. Like you weren’t you.

He didn’t know when it happened, when the line between my goalie and my girl started to blur. Maybe it was the first time you wore that stupid cherry lip gloss that made him forget what he was saying mid-sentence. Or when he saw some junior guy from school offer to carry your books and you smiled, polite but distant. That smile—the one that wasn’t for Sid.

You’d never smiled at him like that. And he didn’t know whether he wanted you to… or not.

“I don’t feel like playing tonight,” you said, your voice softer than usual, but heavy enough to pull him out of whatever thought he’d been stuck in.

“I’m leaving soon,” he said, not accusing, just honest. “Just thought we could get one last game in before I’m gone.”

You didn’t look at him when you answered. “Don’t make it sound like you’re dying.”

You said it like a joke, but it didn’t land. The tension in your chest was too tight, your throat too full. You weren’t mad. Not really. You were proud of him—so proud it hurt. You’d watched him chase this dream since he could barely hold a stick. You were there when he skated circles around kids twice his size, when scouts started showing up at games, when he whispered about the draft like it was some far-off galaxy he might never reach.

Now it was real. And he was leaving. For real.

Not for a weekend tournament or a training camp. This time, he was really going.

“Alright, we won’t play,” Sid said, and you could hear the disappointment under the easy tone. “Come down. We can sit by the dock.”

You hesitated at the window. The sky was streaked in pinks and purples now, the kind of sunset that felt like a painting, and the cicadas were still humming in the trees. You looked at him—standing there in that worn-out hoodie and beat-up sneakers, holding his stick loosely at his side like he couldn’t quite let go of it yet.

It would’ve been easier to say no. To climb back into bed, to turn your music up and pretend that nothing was changing.

But you never could say no to Sid. Not really.

So you climbed down from the oak tree, slow and quiet, and landed in the grass beside him. You didn’t say anything at first, just started walking toward the dock like you’d done a hundred times before—past the firepit, past the line of rocks you used to leap across like some made-up obstacle course when you were kids.

The boards of the dock creaked under your feet as you sat beside him, legs dangling over the water, the lake dark and glassy below.

You pulled your hoodie sleeves over your hands, and he let the silence sit for a minute before speaking.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, surprising you.

You turned to look at him.

“Not of hockey. Not of leaving. I’m scared of what it means if I go and everything’s different when I come back.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just listened to the water lapping gently against the wood, the distant sound of a dog barking down the road, the weight of the words hanging between you like fog.

“It’s already different,” you said quietly.

He nodded, jaw tight. “I know.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him. His face was lit by the last remnants of golden light, his profile soft and familiar and impossibly grown-up all at once.

“I’m not going to ask you to stay,” you said. “Because you wouldn’t, and I wouldn’t let you. But I’m allowed to miss you, Sid.”

He turned to face you, eyes dark and honest. “I’ll miss you more.”

You gave him a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

A week later, you stood at the edge of his driveway, arms crossed against the morning chill, watching as he packed the last of his bags into the back of his parents’ van. Taylor was already in the backseat, headphones on, legs propped against a duffel bag. It was quiet, heavy with the kind of silence that comes when you know something is ending—at least for now.

Sid turned back one last time, eyes lingering on you like he was trying to memorize the way you looked in that moment. Like he didn’t want to forget. His dad whistled, tapping the side of the van, voice calling out, “Say your goodbyes, Sid. We’re rolling out.”

The knot in your stomach pulled tighter.

You didn’t cry. Not until after he was gone.

Sunday nights became something different after that. Sometimes you’d get a call—never promised, but you noticed the pattern. He’d ring you after checking in with his parents, speaking low so he wouldn’t wake his roommates. Just a soft “Hey,” and you’d curl into your bed with your heart in your throat, pretending things hadn’t changed.

About a month after he left, you got his first letter in the mail. Neat handwriting, a little smudged like he’d written it in a rush. Like maybe he couldn’t wait to talk to you in a way a phone call couldn’t touch.

Postmarked from Rimouski, Quebec

It’s late, and I should probably be asleep. Morning skate starts early and the guys already give me hell for looking half-dead on the ice. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight.

Everything’s fast here. Faster than Cole Harbour, faster than I thought I was ready for. The drills are harder, the pressure’s heavier, and every time I step on the ice, I feel like I have to prove I belong here all over again.

But I’ve been doing okay. Better than okay, actually. Coach pulled me aside yesterday—said I was standing out. He smiled when he said it, that kind of rare, real smile like he actually meant it. I should’ve felt proud. I did. But the first thing I wanted to do was tell you.

I miss your laugh. The way you say my name when you’re annoyed but not really. I miss seeing you in that hoodie that’s still technically mine. And the cherry lip gloss. God, I miss that stupid lip gloss.

Tell the dock I said hi.

Always,

Sid

You read it three times.

You didn’t write him back.

Not because you didn’t care—God, you cared too much. His letter sat folded on your desk, worn soft at the edges from how many times you’d picked it up, read it, traced the handwriting like it might tell you what he couldn’t quite say.

He hadn’t said the words. Not exactly. And neither had you.

And maybe that’s what scared you the most.

So instead, you did nothing. Waited. Let the days pass and told yourself he was probably too busy to notice anyway. Told yourself it would be easier to pretend that things were still the same. That nothing had changed.

Until Friday.

You were in your dorm room at Dalhousie, halfway through folding your laundry when you heard a knock on the door—followed by giggles and footsteps from down the hall.

One of the girls you barely knew from your floor poked her head in, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Uh, hey—your boyfriend’s here.”

You blinked. “What?”

She grinned. “Big guy. Kinda ridiculously hot. Said he’s looking for his goalie?”

Your stomach dropped.

No. No way.

You shoved your laundry onto your bed and nearly tripped getting to the door. Your heart was pounding like it wanted out of your chest. You had no plan, no words, nothing prepared.

And there he was.

Sidney. Standing in the hallway like something out of a daydream.

Bag slung over his shoulder. Hockey hat barely hiding the way his hair curled at the edges. And those eyes—those same warm, familiar eyes—locked on you the second you stepped out.

He smiled, just barely. Nervous. Hopeful. “Hey.”

You stared at him. Speechless.

“I was in town for a few days,” he said, shifting on his feet. “Figured I’d surprise you. I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything, I just—”

You shook your head, your voice barely steady. “No. You didn��t. I just—I didn’t expect—”

Him. Here. In front of you. Looking like everything you’d missed and tried to push down since the day he left.

The hallway was suddenly too bright, too loud with the buzz of distant music and the occasional slam of a dorm door. But all you could focus on was him—his hoodie, the way his hands kept twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them, the look in his eyes.

“I wasn’t sure if I should come,” he admitted. “You didn’t answer my letter, and I thought maybe I said too much. Or not enough.”

You blinked. “Come in,” you said suddenly, pulling the door open wider. “You’re making the girls on this floor lose their minds.”

That got a half-smile from him. “Sorry.”

You stepped aside, and he walked in slowly, glancing around your dorm room like it was sacred ground. Like it held more answers than you did.

He dropped his bag on the floor and stood awkwardly near your desk, hands in his hoodie pocket. “You look different,” he said quietly.

“Different how?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Older. Like you belong here.”

You crossed your arms, trying not to let your heart fall out of your chest.

“And you?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Do you feel like you belong where you are?”

Sidney hesitated. His eyes dropped to the floor for a second before coming back to meet yours.

“On the ice? Yeah. But… off of it?” He shook his head slightly. “It’s loud. Fast. I’m always around people but never really with anyone, you know?”

You nodded. You did know.

He glanced around your room again, eyes lingering on the little details—the photos tacked above your desk, the throw blanket on your bed, the notebook half-open beside your computer. It was nothing special, but it was yours.

And for a moment, he looked like he wanted to memorize it all.

“I missed this,” he said. “Just being around you. Talking like we used to.”

“You could’ve called more,” you said, trying to keep the edge out of your voice.

He looked guilty. “I know. I wanted to. I just… I didn’t know how to talk to you sometimes. Not without feeling like I’d screw it all up.”

You stayed quiet.

Sid sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “When I left, I thought I had to push everything else aside. Focus. No distractions. But you… you weren’t a distraction. You were the only thing that ever made it all make sense.”

Your heart stuttered at his words.

The room suddenly felt too small, too quiet, like it was holding its breath right along with you.

You looked at him—really looked at him. The way his shoulders rose and fell with the weight of what he’d just said, the way his jaw clenched like he wasn’t sure if he should’ve kept that to himself. But his eyes didn’t waver.

“You mean that?” you asked, barely more than a whisper.

Sidney nodded once. “I always told myself hockey had to come first. That if I wanted to make it, there couldn’t be room for anything else. But then I’d think about you. About summers at the dock, and Sunday night phone calls, and the way it felt to just… be with you. And none of it made sense without you in it.”

Your throat tightened. You wanted to say something, anything—but it felt like every word you might say was stuck somewhere behind your ribs.

“You weren’t a distraction,” he said again, quieter now. “You were the calm.”

For a long moment, all you could do was stand there, the air between you thick with everything left unsaid for far too long.

It was like time folded in on itself—like you were back in your backyard, under the oak tree, with scraped knees and sunburnt cheeks… except now everything felt heavier. Realer. Like one wrong move would tip everything over.

Sid looked at you like he wanted to say more—but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe this was the part where words finally gave out and something deeper took over.

You took a breath, your voice barely there. “What happens now?”

He stepped in, slowly, like giving you every chance to stop him. But you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m tired of pretending it’s not real.”

“Okay,” you said softly, your lips curving just the tiniest bit. “Then don’t go yet.”

You didn’t know what would happen next when you said it—just that you couldn’t stand the thought of him walking away again. Not now. Not when everything felt so close to slipping out into the open.

Things felt like how they used to. Like when you were fifteen and he’d sneak into your room after long games or stormy nights. You’d watch old movies until you fell asleep, tangled in blankets and inside jokes. Back then, it was innocent. Easy.

Now, it wasn’t.

You were both lying on your sides, the narrow bed a little too small, the space between you a little too charged. You wore a big t-shirt that definitely used to be his—soft with wear, sleeves swallowing your hands, his name faintly cracked on the back. He hadn’t said anything when he saw you in it, but his eyes had lingered.

Sid stayed a safe distance away, hands tucked behind his head like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. But every once in a while, your legs would shift beneath the blankets and your foot would brush against his.

Every time it happened, it felt like a spark—quiet, electric, impossible to ignore.

Neither of you said anything.

You could feel his presence like gravity. Like if you moved even half an inch closer, you’d fall right into him. Your fingers itched to close the space, to trace the curve of his jaw, to say what you couldn’t bring yourself to speak out loud.

But instead, you just laid there in the dark, lit only by the soft glow of the streetlamp outside your window, your breaths slow and synced, hearts pounding in the silence.

He shifted slightly. You felt the mattress dip, the blanket pulled tighter.

“Still can’t sleep on my back without you kicking me,” he muttered.

You smiled, eyes still on the ceiling. “I’m not kicking. You’re just always in the way.”

Another pause. This one longer.

“I missed this,” he said finally. His voice was quiet. Honest. Like a secret.

“I missed you,” you whispered back.

The silence that followed was thick and fragile, like if one of you said the wrong thing, the whole moment would shatter.

But no one moved.

Not yet.

The silence wrapped around you both, warm and weighty, like a blanket too heavy to throw off. You could hear Sid breathing—slow, even, but not quite relaxed. Like he was trying too hard to seem unaffected.

You weren’t sure who moved first. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was both of you at the same time, drawn together by muscle memory and something that had been pulling at you for years.

Your fingers brushed under the blanket.

You both stilled.

Then—barely, almost accidentally—his pinky hooked around yours.

It was tentative. Shy, even. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

Your heart fluttered against your ribs, and you didn’t pull away. You didn’t even breathe.

Slowly, your hand turned in the space between you until your palm was facing his. His shifted too. And then, his fingers slid into yours like they were meant to be there.

You let out a shaky breath.

Neither of you said a word. You didn’t need to.

The pressure of his hand in yours—warm, solid, careful—said it all. That he was still here. That he didn’t want to leave. That maybe this thing between you wasn’t just one-sided memories and what-ifs.

It was real.

Sid gave your hand the faintest squeeze, and when you squeezed back, you felt him exhale like he’d been holding that breath for years.

You didn’t fall asleep right away.

You just laid there in the quiet, hands tangled beneath the sheets, both pretending it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the warmth.

It was early—just past sunrise, judging by the soft pink light filtering through the blinds—and your room was quiet, the kind of hush that only exists in those in-between hours where the world hasn’t fully woken up yet.

The second thing you noticed was him.

Sid was still asleep beside you, breathing steady, his face relaxed in a way you rarely saw. Somewhere in the night, the careful distance between you had disappeared. His arm was draped loosely around your waist, and your legs were tangled with his beneath the blankets. Your head was resting just beneath his chin, tucked into the curve of his shoulder like it belonged there.

And it felt… natural. Like this wasn’t the first time. Like your bodies had remembered something your minds were only just beginning to admit.

You tilted your head slightly, just enough to look at him.

He looked peaceful, younger somehow, like the weight he always carried—expectations, pressure, the whole future of his hockey career—had melted off in sleep. His hair was a mess, and your heart did something stupid at the sight of it. At the fact that he was here, in your bed, holding you like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You should’ve felt awkward. You didn’t.

Instead, you felt calm. Safe. Full of something that buzzed just under your skin.

You stayed there for a while, memorizing the way it felt to be wrapped up in him, like maybe if you stayed still enough, time would stop and this moment could stretch forever.

Eventually, he stirred. You felt him shift, his grip around you tightening just a little, like he was afraid you’d vanish.

Then his voice—raspy and low, still thick with sleep.

“You’re still here.”

You smiled into his shirt. “So are you.”

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, eyes heavy-lidded but clear, searching.

Neither of you said what you were both thinking.

Not yet.

But as his thumb brushed gently over the back of your hand, you knew—it was only a matter of time.

You both lingered in the quiet of the morning longer than you probably should’ve. But eventually, the real world started to creep back in—responsibilities, timelines, and the fact that Sid still had to visit his parents before heading back to Quebec.

He moved around your room slowly, folding his hoodie into his bag, stuffing the sleeves in like he didn’t really want it to fit. You sat on the edge of your bed, knees drawn to your chest, watching him in silence. There was something tender about the way he moved, like every motion was saying I’m not ready to leave yet.

He zipped his bag and slung it over his shoulder, pausing at your door.

“This part sucks,” he said quietly, glancing back at you.

You gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “You’ll be back before I know it.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, but it felt like neither of you really believed it. Not the way you wanted to.

You walked with him down the hall, the silence between you thick with all the things you hadn’t said. And when you reached the door, it just… hung there. The moment. Heavy and still.

“I’ll call you,” he said, adjusting the strap on his shoulder.

You nodded. “You better.”

He didn’t move.

Neither did you.

Then his voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “Last night… wasn’t nothing, right?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. It wasn’t.”

Sid’s eyes searched yours—like he needed to be sure, like he didn’t want to make the wrong move. Your heart beat so loud you were sure he could hear it.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he murmured.

Your breath caught. “Then do it.”

He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. You tilted your chin up just slightly, eyes fluttering shut.

And when his lips finally touched yours—it wasn’t rushed, or desperate. It was soft. Certain. Like every moment between you, every summer night and almost-confession, had been leading to this.

He kissed you like a promise. And you kissed him back like you believed it.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, exhaling like he’d been holding that breath for years.

“See you soon?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “See you soon.”

And then he turned, walked down the hall, and disappeared around the corner.

But this time, he wasn’t just leaving.

He was coming back to something.

To you.

Six months later

The city lights of Quebec glittered outside your hotel room window, casting a soft glow on the room. You were laying on the king bed when Sid walked into the room, the door clicking shut behind him as he tossed his bag to the side. His team had just wrapped up a practice, and despite how tired he looked, there was something about him that made your heart skip—something about the way he walked into a room like he belonged there, like you belonged there.

“You’re late,” you teased, looking up from your phone, a smile tugging at your lips.

He grinned, shrugging. “You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to date a hockey player. Practices, travel, interviews. Sometimes I don’t even know what city I’m in.”

You laughed, pushing off the bed and walking toward him. “I’m just messing with you. I know you’ve got your schedule. But I miss you, Sid.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere between you two faded. Sid stepped closer, his hands brushing your shoulders before he cupped your face gently. He didn’t need to say anything—his eyes already said it all.

“I miss you too,” he whispered, his voice low and almost secretive, like he was revealing something precious. “But I’m glad you’re here. I hate being away from you. It’s never the same without you around.”

You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. The last few months had been a whirlwind of letters, late-night calls, and stolen weekends whenever his schedule allowed it. But through it all, there had been a steady pulse between you two, a rhythm that felt so natural, like you were both exactly where you needed to be.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” you said, your voice soft. “I still don’t get how you manage all this. You’re traveling, training, playing… and yet, you still find time to be with me.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You make it easy. You make everything easier.” He hesitated for a beat, the words hanging in the air like they meant more than just this moment. “You’re the reason I can do it all, y’know?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the simplicity of the statement making your chest tighten. He looked at you like you were everything.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The familiar weight of his arms around you felt like home, like a place you could both just exist, without pressure, without rushing to the next thing.

“You’ve changed everything for me,” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You let out a soft breath, your fingers finding his. The world outside was still moving, the clock ticking on, but in that room, in that moment, everything felt still.

“I’m proud of you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “For everything you’ve done, everything you’re going to do.”

Sid pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “I couldn’t have done any of it without you. You’re the best thing I’ve got, y’know that?”

You laughed softly, the words warm and tender. “I’m just glad I’m the one you get to come home to after every game. Even when you’re tired and running on nothing but adrenaline.”

He smiled, leaning in for another kiss, this one deeper, slower. And for a moment, you lost yourself in it, in him. This was what it had all come down to. All the waiting, all the hesitation—it had led here. To you and him, together.

When the kiss finally broke, he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he rested his chin on your head.

“I don’t want this to ever change,” he murmured.

“Neither do I,” you said, voice thick with emotion.

And for the first time, there was no uncertainty. There was no fear. Just Sid. Just you. And everything you’d been waiting for, unfolding in front of you.