#even though it ended up going really well and realistically I know the anxiety is irrational and doesn't make sense in this instance

[thethingything]

I can already tell we're gonna get drop within the next couple of hours because we've had a lot of fun today so that's gonna be interesting to deal with because our brain's been doing weird stuff over the last few days, but I do appreciate that both last Monday and today we got to enjoy a big event that was fun enough to do that because wow we needed that.

I also appreciate that so far this month we've done really well with challenging our social anxiety and today we managed to get up and do chores and stuff relatively soon after waking up

[starmapz]

what you know - ch8: hysteria || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety (attacks). tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 17.7k (oops).

❦ a/n ; please note the tags have been updated.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

Although not particularly cold throughout the holidays, a frigid air settles over the city shortly after the date turns to the new year. As usual, Gojo held his annual frat party that you’re required to be at by virtue of being his friend, though you end up being one of many single party-goers who dips into a corner as the clock strikes midnight. The idea of a stranger’s lips wandering to yours doesn’t sit well in your stomach and although you asked if he would attend, Sukuna had promised his little brothers a celebration, just the three of them. Not that you would kiss Sukuna anyway, of course-

Yuji had apparently never celebrated the new year, too young to understand previously, though based on the photo in your email inbox, he didn’t get to celebrate this one either. A blurry photo taken from the camera on Sukuna’s laptop, pointed down at Yuji sound asleep in his lap while he and Choso had MarioKart running in the background had been the telltale sign.

You can’t blame him for not having a phone, but sometimes you do wish you could text rather than email. Especially with your friendship seeming to blossom as of late. It took a bit of nurturing to get to this point, but Sukuna seems to recognize his faults and actively tries to work on and better himself. Regardless of his often-irritable demeanor, you appreciate the effort on his part.

Snowflakes settle in your palm as you hold it out in front of you on the walk to the lunch hall. Settling back into the flow of having classes early in the mornings brings with it a dreary haze that hangs over the student body, yourself included. Not a single soul seems to be well-rested, apart from one person.

“Good morning,” Kento greets you with a warm smile, running a hand through his golden locks.

“Morning, Kento,” you greet him in return, your attention trained on the snowflakes melting on the warmth of your skin. “How was it, going back home?”

“It was relaxing,” he replies, a frown pulling at his lips as he takes in your dazed expression. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to join us.”

“That’s alright! I really did appreciate your offer to pay for my tickets, but it didn’t feel right,” you shoot him a smile, though quickly return your attention to your hand.

Auburn irises flicker down to your palm, trying to figure out what’s holding your interest so adamantly. “I understand, although it really wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

“Really, it’s fine, Nanamin. Satoru, Suguru, and Sukuna all had me over and I talked to my parents a bunch,” you assure him, finally dropping your hand and wiping the condensation on the front of your coat.

“Sukuna?” He asks, his brows raising, though it’s more of a rhetorical question as he’s already aware he’ll be doing Sukuna a favor at some point in the new year.

“He’s put in a lot of effort to make up for what happened.” Your tone is somewhat clipped, coming out unintentionally defensive.

Nanami’s gaze flickers to your face, catching the minute knit of your brows and tension in your shoulders. “I should hope so. Either way, I wasn’t making any accusations. Simply an observation.”

You sigh. “I know, sorry. I think I’m just a bit exhausted,” you chuckle, shooting him an apologetic smile. “I can’t believe we’re already back to it. The break felt so short.”

“I agree,” he hums as he opens the door to the lunch hall for you. With a grateful smile, you slip past him and head towards your regular table. Looks like you won’t be the first to arrive this semester. You and Kento are the last to arrive, taking your seats and beginning to pull out your lunches as you get back into the swing of lunches on campus.

Just as you pull out some leftover pasta, Sukuna takes a seat beside you. He looks worse for wear, even more exhausted than you. His sleep schedule is always atrocious, so you can only imagine what it would look like without classes.

“Hey, Kuna!” You grin as you greet him.

In usual Sukuna fashion, he leans over the table on his elbow, resting his chin against his palm. “Princess.” He yawns quietly, his eyes briefly fluttering shut.

“Long day?” You ask, amused but sympathetic.

“Long fuckin’ day,” he agrees, his chest rumbling in faint laughter. “Y’know, you usually don’t look as tired as I-”

“Hey hotshot, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” Gojo blurts out suddenly, interrupting Sukuna.

With a deadpan expression, the tattooed man’s jaw clenches in barely-masked irritation. Of all days, Sukuna could only have hoped Gojo would keep his mouth shut today, unable to deal with his bullshit in this state. “The hell did I do?” He rolls his shoulders, as though prepping for a fight. 

Can’t these two get along just for once?

“You were on my balcony at the end of finals party, and let some couple fuck on my bed!” He points an accusatory finger at Sukuna’s chest, his nose scrunching in disgust at the mere thought.

Slowly, you bring a hand up to cover your mouth in realization. As you glance at Sukuna, you’re surprised to see his expression has relaxed somewhat, a smug smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “What, you think I broke in to let some other couple fuck?” Sukuna sneers, practically reveling in the way Gojo scoffs. “I didn’t do it on purpose, asshole.” He tilts his head towards you, crimson eyes filled with amusement. “Why don’t you tell him?”

You can tell from his tone he’s enjoying this way too much. “Um- well-” you wince as Satoru’s expression falls, dramatic betrayal written across his face in bolded marker. “I may have unlocked your room to get some air and… kinda didn’t lock the door behind me.” You mutter the last portion into your hand, a sheepish shrug the best you can offer him.

“It was you?” He whines, lip curled in utter disbelief.

“And to think he blamed Sukuna this whole time,” Suguru butts in, amused.

“I saw him leave the balcony!” The frat boy counters, turning his attention back to you. “I had to stay on Suguru’s floor while my mattress got cleaned,” he gripes.

“I can’t even imagine my floor was that much cleaner,” Suguru quips teasingly, a mischievous glimmer in his golden eyes.

Satoru jabs him in the side before turning his attention to you. “You owe me. No, you double owe me because I had you over for Christmas dinner too!” He waggles his spoon at you, before dropping it in his soup with all the dramatic flair he can muster.

“I’m so sorry, Satoru! I promise it was an accident.” You offer your best apologetic smile.

He shuts his eyes for a moment, sighing. “It’s fiiiine. Just… buy me drinks next time we go out or something.”

“I’d like to think I should be compensated for dealing with Satoru’s whining,” Suguru chimes in, entertained by the whole ordeal.

Shaking your head at the raven-haired man’s blatant teasing, you giggle quietly, your elbow lightly brushing Sukuna. He’s still leaning over the table, close enough to feel his breath fan your arm with each rise and fall of his chest.

“After consulting my bank account, I can get Suguru one drink, and Satoru two,” you offer.

“Deal!”

“Deal.”

Sukuna shakes his head, shooting a final glance at Satoru that doesn’t hold the amusement he regarded you with before his full attention shifts back to you. “Just gonna throw me under the bus like that, huh?” He gruffs. Beyond the tired glaze that paints his eyes is a mirthful gleam, reserved only for you as he observes the way you sheepishly chuckle.

“My bad,” you scratch at the back of your neck, your cheeks heating up as his arm brushes yours. “I was gonna jump in, I swear!”

“Mhm.” Sukuna lets out a long breath, leaning back comfortably over the table and putting some distance between you. Just as he begins to zone out, lost in thought over the lawsuit, he sits up straight, his attention drawn to Kento. “Did you find a time to meet with- uh- Kento?”

“Oh!” You gently nudge Kento at Sukuna’s reminder. “Can you and your friend meet up on…” you glance back at Sukuna to fill in the blank as his schedule is much more packed than yours usually is.

“Friday. After four.”

Kento spins to face you, his watchful gaze doing a once-over of Sukuna. “I can get back to you on that. It should work for me, but I’ll need to speak with him.”

You grin. “Great! If that works, can we meet at the cafe across from the Science building?”

Kento nods. “I’ll let you know this afternoon. I believe I share a class with him.”

The two men on either side of you exchange another tense glance, letting the uneasy atmosphere dissolve as they mutually redirect their attention elsewhere. Sukuna leans forward on the table, resting his chin on his crossed arms, his eyes watching with mild interest as you take a bite of your leftover pasta.

Just as you’re about to offer him a bite, your lips purse in surprise as two men you don’t recognize take seats in front of Sukuna. It only clicks who they must be when Uraume takes a seat on Sukuna’s opposite side. You shoot them a warm smile as the salmon-haired man’s head lifts.

You can’t tell what’s going through Sukuna’s mind as he grunts out a “what are you doin’ here?”

The man sitting on Gojo’s left, who’s currently receiving a deeply displeased glare from your snowy-haired friend, has black hair that falls straight over his forehead and a scar on his lip. Beside him is a man with spiked brown hair and a toothpick between his teeth. His lips seem to be drawn in a perpetual frown. He speaks up first. “We haven’t seen you since the party.”

The man with the scarred lip smirks. “That, and Uraume was mentionin’ your girl wanted to meet us.”

Sukuna’s lip curls in frustration, a deathly glare burning his friend for calling you his girl. He introduces you, making a point of calling you his friend, before pointing out Toji, with the scar, and Atsuya.

With a grin and deeply warmed cheeks, you point out each of the members of your friend group. Haibara and Shoko are as sweet as ever, while Geto and Nanami are kind. Gojo, on the other hand, seems frustrated with the arrival of the group, in particular Toji, which you suppose makes sense if the man’s got a penchant for being a pain even by Sukuna’s standards from what you’ve heard.

In spite of Toji’s immediate overbearing teasing, he seems nice enough, and with their arrival, Sukuna becomes slightly more talkative. He’s slowly coming out of his shell around you, which you’re grateful for.

“So,” Toji begins, mischief dancing across his emerald irises, “how in the world did ya manage to get through to this asshole?” He questions you, jabbing a thumb towards Sukuna at your side.

You giggle, not missing the way Sukuna’s jaw clenches. “Not easily.”

“I’ll say. I’ve known ‘im since we were kids and I’m still not part of his Christmases,” he scoffs.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fuckin’ dick, I’d invite you,” Sukuna scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“You could always invite Sukuna, could you not?” Uraume points out to Toji, who scoffs, his expression deadpan.

“Oh yeah, who wants t’ come to the Zenin Family Dinner? Drop on by, we got my fuckass uncle, my asshole grandparents and Naoya. Who wouldn’t wanna join?” He jeers, sarcasm dripping from each and every word.

“Is that the ‘Naoya’ you punched?” You ask, keeping your voice low for only Sukuna to hear as you lean towards him.

“Mhm.”

“‘Sides,” Toji begins, “your dad used to invite me every year, dunno what I did to get uninvited.”

Oh.

Oh.

He doesn’t know.

Sukuna’s leg bounces absentmindedly under the table at the mention of his father, his gaze averting to a nearby wall in an effort to keep his reaction neutral.

“You know, I could host something next year,” you offer in an effort to divert attention away from the topic of Sukuna’s father. To your horror, the table goes silent. The tension coming off of Satoru and Toji in waves is palpable, and you’re beyond grateful for Shoko, Kento, and Uraume, the first three at the table to chime in.

“Sounds like fun.”

“I would join.”

“That sounds lovely.”

You let out a sigh of relief as gradually, the rest of the table begins to agree, even the two men who seem to continually be at odds with one another. You have half a mind to wonder how that even happened given that Satoru’s usually the one to get under others’ skin, not vice versa.

As conversation begins to return, Sukuna quietly mutters a “thanks” in your ear that sends a shiver straight down your spine before burying his face in his arms as you finish your meal. The tension in the air doesn’t fully dissolve but at the very least, Satoru and Toji choose to simply not acknowledge one another.

With a glance at the time on your phone, you begin packing up once you finish your lunch. A couple of others at the table check the time as they take notice of your actions, using the opportunity to pack up as no one wants to be late on the first day of class. With nothing to pack up himself, Sukuna swings his bag over his shoulder and mumbles a “see ya,” heading for the door before you can stop him.

Even with how far your friendship has come, it seems some things never change.

With a sigh, you turn back to the table. “It was nice to meet you, Toji and Atsuya,” you smile politely.

“Likewise,” Atsuya agrees with a tired smile.

“‘Course. Had to meet the woman Sukuna’s been ditchin’ us for.” Toji shoots you a shit-eating grin, something you don’t dare read into as your face warms at the mere thought of being the person Sukuna seems to always choose.

“See you all later,” you call out to the broader table, met with a chorus of goodbyes. “Text me, Sho!”

Hurrying out the door to your next class, you zip up your coat as you make your way through the frozen wasteland that separates you from Literature History. At least the weather had relented somewhat from the beginning of December, offering a more mild bite that didn’t seem to seep into the very fiber of your being.

Still, it’s a hell of a lot colder than it was before the new year.

With a huff as you cross the barrier into the building where your next class is, you let the warmth envelop you, grateful for the shelter from the bitter wind outside. Winter had only really begun to settle over the city in the last month, but you’re ready for spring to arrive. Even if it means more finals.

Sighing at the thought of starting the entire dance over again- class, studying, finals, not to mention your required internship- you push through the door to the lecture hall, briefly pausing at the bottom of the class to search for a familiar face.

And god fucking damn it, the way your eyes light up when you spot Sukuna could practically make him dizzy. He’s careful that his crimson stare doesn’t give away the strange way his chest tightens at the mere sight of your beaming smile, keeping his expression indifferent as his gaze trails your path.

You jog up the stairs until you find a place beside him, grinning as you slide into the seat. “I was gonna ask what your next class was, but you left so fast,” you comment, getting settled as you pull out your laptop.

“Mm,” Sukuna watches your movements, his eyes trailing your manicured nails. Pink. They almost match his hair.

Why is he even thinking about this?

“Didn’t wanna be late,” he excuses his actions, finally meeting your eyes.

Your bottom lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout. “At least walk with me when we have class together.”

He lets out a long breath through his nose. “Yeah, alright, princess,” he teases, unable to help his smirk as he settles back into familiar territory with you and the strange flutter in his chest eases.

The professor walks in, writing her name in large font across the whiteboard at the front of the room as she begins her introduction to the class.

“Y’know,” Sukuna leans closer, his voice lowering so as not to disturb the other students. “Apparently the prof’s a huge conspiracy theorist.”

“Really?” You ask, interest gleaming behind narrowed eyes.

“Mhm. Supposedly she believes Shakespeare never existed.”

“Like, she believes the anti-Stratfordian theory?” You ask, tilting your head. That’s not an unreasonable theory, to believe that many of the plays typically associated with Shakespeare were perhaps written by another famous playwright or author under a pseudonym that happened to match the name of a living man.

“Nah. ‘Parently she believes he never existed,” Sukuna shrugs.

“But- he did. Maybe not the one we know, but there’s proof of his birth and death records. He has a grave,” you point out.

“I know that,” he smirks. “I heard she rambled about that theory and Dickens’ death for an hour last semester.”

You blink twice. “You’re kidding.” Groaning as quietly as you can muster, you drag your hands down your face. “I can’t afford to have another history professor who rambles. And the Dickens theory isn’t even interesting,” you tack on in a grumble.

“You’ll be fine,” Sukuna chuckles, amused at your reaction. “Literature’s your thing, ain’t it?”

“Well… yeah, but you know how I am with names, dates and faces.”

“And you know how to study for that,” he points out, nudging your shoulder. “‘Sides, you’ll have-”

“If something is so interesting that you feel the need to interrupt, Mr. Sukuna,” the professor’s voice booms around the lecture hall as all eyes land on the pair of you. Sukuna keeps his cool, which you’re thankful for as you pale and shrink into your seat. “Then I would suggest you come up here and share with the class.”

He doesn’t bother to reply, simply giving a wave of his hand for her to continue. It’s not exactly the polite response you would have given, but with a final glance between you both, she turns back to the broader class to continue the lecture.

Sukuna eyes you from his peripherals as you slowly relax back into your seat when you’re no longer the center of attention. If you bristled so much from just being called out, he can only imagine the pain you went through when he left you hanging last semester. He frowns to himself at the thought, his attention never fully given to the professor as much as he tries.

His mind wanders between the introduction to Elizabethean and Jacobean literature and the way your nails tap against your keyboard as you type up notes. As the class drags on and his mind drifts further and further from the lecture, he leans back in his seat and roughly drags his hands over his face.

He’s exhausted beyond belief, frustrated with his schedule for this semester, frustrated with Toji for sticking his nose in Sukuna’s business, irritated with himself for not paying attention for something he’s paying a lot of money to attend, and to top it all off, he knows he has a long day ahead of him.

It’s not like it’s a first, most days are long in his world, but today he’s all the more frustrated and it’s wearing him thin.

So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t even realize the room is shuffling until your laptop shuts beside him, the dull snap bringing him back to reality. As you slip your laptop into a sleeve and delicately place it in your bag, he follows suit, tucking his laptop into his backpack and throwing his coat on.

He even supposes he’ll wait for you this time around, given that he has some time before picking up his brothers for once.

You pause in front of him, zipping your jacket up as you type out a message on your phone. “Looks like Friday works for Kento’s friend.”

Sukuna nods, his brow knit. “I’ll need to bring Cho and Yu. Uraume’s got late classes this semester and our neighbor’s away this week.”

You pause for a moment as you consider what that means. “You’ll need to tell them.” Your tone is somber, your voice quiet. He almost doesn’t hear you over the bustling of students exiting the lecture hall.

He nods slowly, a muscle in his jaw ticking. One might even argue he’s too aware of that fact. You can physically see gears turning in his mind, a question sitting atop his tongue that he doesn’t want to voice.

“What’s wrong, Kuna?” You query gently, tilting your head to look up at him. The tattoo along the length of his jaw stretches along his skin as he grimaces.

“D’you have another class?”

You shake your head.

“Don’t wanna talk about it here.” With a large hand on the small of your back, he directs you out of the hall and back into the cold, his palm lifting from your warmth to run through his tousled locks.

If only he knew the way your stomach flipped from such a simple touch.

Regardless, he probably should have asked if you had any plans for the afternoon, rather than simply dragging you off campus and towards his brothers’ school, but the thought is lost on him. Luckily for him, you might be a little too understanding of the man who unknowingly holds your heart, so you don’t say a word as he silently leads you in a direction that you recognize.

Really, you could have at least gotten your car instead of trudging through the cold.

Before you can protest, Sukuna finally finds the words to voice his thoughts.

“What if I’m lookin’ at this the wrong way?” He gruffs, tense and raw with emotion that isn’t often something you associate with him.

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but you can’t quite tell where his meaning lies. “What way is that?”

“Been thinkin’. I mean, she’s their mother, right? What if they’re better off with her? What if they wanna go with her and I’m puttin’ up a fight they don’t want me to win?”

It hits you like a ton of bricks. The impact nearly pushes the breath from your lungs and causes your stride to falter. If Sukuna notices, he doesn’t slow down and it takes you a moment to catch up, his words still sinking in.

“Wait- What?” You splutter, grappling with the severity of his grievance. He keeps his pace up, not even sparing you a glance. “Sukuna, wait-” You tug on his forearm, tearing his arm from his pocket as he pauses to look at you finally.

Distant. He didn’t hear you.

Blinking twice, you pull him to the edge of the sidewalk to keep his attention on you and away from the noise of the city around you. The lights, the people, the cars, it all seems to encroach on you and muddle your thoughts, you can only imagine the mileage his mind is currently making.

Certain that you have his focus now, you repeat yourself. “What are you talking about? You know they need you.”

He sighs, an air of irritation settling over him as he stares at the brick to your left. “They need a guardian, doesn’t mean they need me. Been thinkin’ maybe they’d want to go with her. With their mother.”

You pause, considering the question for yourself for a moment. You can sympathise with wanting what’s best for them, but it doesn’t sit well with you that he doubts himself so much when you can see what he means to those kids.

“You need to tell them what’s going on anyway, so I think it’s worth asking,” you agree. It’s the right thing to do regardless of the outcome. “But,” you add in a gentler tone, offering a kind smile, “they’ll choose you.”

His eyes snap to you, a tense set to his musculature. “What makes you so sure?” He almost sounds offended.

“They love you, Sukuna.” His brow twitches, his mouth opening to protest, but you continue. “You told me you couldn’t get a hold of their mom when your dad passed, right?”

He nods tensely.

“What kind of mother does that?” You point out. “Imagine how that would make Choso feel.”

You pause, letting the thought sink in. Sukuna doesn’t reply, absently cracking a knuckle.

He’d been so caught up all those years ago in the loss of their father and his own grief that he’d hardly considered that Choso’s grief had likely been twofold. The child had lost his father just like Sukuna, but he’d also had to deal with the loss of his mother. Not only that, but it was more like the active rejection of his mother, because the reality is that Sukuna tried hard to get a hold of her. Looking back, he knows he was in no way ready to parent his brothers and it was rocky at the start. He should never have let Choso sit at his side in tears as he tried every method he could to reach her.

Sukuna had always accepted that Choso got quieter as simply a part of his grief. The little boy had always teetered on the shy side of things, but Sukuna wonders now if there’s more to that. If his silence is a result of sitting alongside his frustrated and grief-stricken older brother as his mother chose not to reply.

When Sukuna’s silence extends, you do your best to guide him from the dark recesses that his mind attempts to take him to. “Would Yuji even remember her?”

Shit. Sukuna’s all Yuji’s ever known. If he doesn’t remember their father, there’s no way in hell he remembers his mother.

Sukuna drags a hand down his face. Coming to terms with the gravity of his own mistakes is one thing, but they don’t even begin to match up to the rejection of their mother.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, taking a step back to pace in front of the wall. Giving him the space and time he needs, you simply watch as he huffs and sighs. Fiddling with your neatly manicured nails, you wait patiently for him to organize his thoughts, only to frown when he shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette. In one smooth motion, he flips his lighter open and smoke trails like rippling water up into the cold air. He leans against the wall, leaning his head back against the brick as he exhales smoke into the overcast sky.

The nicotine calms his jittery mind enough to allow him the space to function within the claustrophobia of his thoughts. Inhaling deeply, he pushes off the wall and returns to you finally, looking up to exhale smoke away from you.

“Uraume’s right, you know.”

Any other time, Sukuna would have let that slide, knowing it was meant to be a cheeky little quip about his vice.

But today’s a bad fucking day for him.

“So I’ve been told.” There’s enough bite to his words that you’re actually a bit surprised at his choice of tone, but even looking back on that drunk night fumbling through apologies, this is the most stressed you’ve ever seen him. His face is gaunt, pale with dark shadows beneath his eyes, and as you take in his outfit, you realize he’s wearing the hoodie he usually throws on after his showers.

If you were to wager a guess, he’s probably wearing last night’s clothes. He doesn’t attempt to hide the tension that grips his muscles and claws at his brow, either.

It’s clear that the thoughts he’s been sharing with you are ones that have been plaguing him as of late. He’s likely been grappling with the idea of telling his brothers about the lawsuit since you last saw him at Christmas. But that’s the thing about Sukuna, he would never ask for help. It’s a miracle he wanted to talk at all.

You let his snappy tone slide, giving him the benefit of the doubt that it’s not intentional. After all, he did ask you to come out here in the cold with him to talk.

Well, maybe ‘asked’ is the wrong word, but he made it clear he wanted you here to talk.

Still, the tension that hangs between you isn’t the usual alluring tension that draws you to him. It’s not uncomfortable, but you would certainly prefer the usual silence with him. It hangs between you in the delicate balance of Sukuna’s startlingly fragile tenacity, which only serves to sympathize you to him in spite of his loose temper.

Sukuna taps a finger on the edge of his cigarette. The ember tip falls to the ground in a pile of ash, melting a small crater of snow at his feet. Choosing not to acknowledge the rigidity that strains the quiet air, he casts a glance at his watch and nods in the direction of his brothers’ school.

“Don’t wanna be late,” he grunts, smoke escaping from the corners of his lips. With one final inhalation, he tosses the cigarette on the ground and stomps it out, turning on his heel to lead the way to the school.

You chew absently on your lip, trailing slowly after him.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, your mind grasping at the conversations of the people passing you by in an effort to fill the dead air. It’s suffocating being in Sukuna’s presence when he’s made a point of having you near, while simultaneously being bull-headed as he holds you at arms’ length.

“They ask for you a lot.”

You take a couple of long strides to catch up with him, thankful that he breaks the ice. Fiddling with the woven bracelets that are still tied to your wrist, you smile. “That’s really sweet. They’re good kids.”

Sukuna casts you a glance. He can see uncertainty in your eyes. He’s not stupid, he knows it’s his fault. But some stubborn part of him holds something akin to a grudge against you for pointing out something he knows is bad for him.

He’s got bigger problems than his nicotine addiction.

When Sukuna doesn’t reply, you swallow nervously. “You’ve raised them well, Kuna.”

Piercing irises snap towards you, flitting between your eyes. “‘M not so sure about that.”

“Aren’t you proud of them?” You push, tilting your head.

Sukuna’s chest clenches. He averts his gaze, grimacing. “‘Course.”

“Then why wouldn’t you think you raised them well?”

“I’m not what they need,” he replies simply.

Your gaze narrows, lips pursing in confusion. “They need a roof over their heads and food on the table. You’re good to them, Sukuna.”

He sighs heavily. “They need someone more attentive. Someone who can be home and dote over them.”

“Dote?” You parrot, the corner of your lip twitching up. “I’ve seen you dote.”

He scoffs. “As if.”

“What do you call your gifts to them?”

A crease forms between his brows. “That wasn’t doting. It hardly meant anything.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, and I don’t think you do either,” you tease, prodding his shoulder and chancing his patience with you.

He scowls down at you, huffing.

You giggle quietly, your breath visible in the air before you. Quieting down, you nudge him gently. “You know just how much those gifts meant to them. You’re exactly what they need, Sukuna. And I think you’re what they want, too.”

Sukuna falters, catching himself quickly enough to play it off like he tripped. Somehow, that’s the less embarrassing option here, he thinks.

“Maybe.” It comes out weaker than intended, and he’s grateful that the steps up to the front of the school offer an escape from the conversation. He may have started it, but like most other difficult conversations he dragged you into, he usually finds himself reluctant to continue them.

Something about how well you know his brothers, how well you know him, shakes him to his very core and he’s not willing to touch that thought with a ten foot pole.

To his relief, the bell rings and a teacher guides a class of young, bright-eyed children out of the school to reunite them each with those meant to pick them up. As Yuji crosses the school’s barrier, she points the two of you out and the little boy goes barreling towards you both.

“Kunaaaaa!” He cries out excitedly, attaching himself like a koala to his older brother’s leg. Sukuna grunts, lifting him into the air as he easily keeps his balance. The little boy giggles, his eyes opening to look at his brother, when he spots you.

Hopping from his brother’s arms with wide, excited eyes, he leaps into your arms as you extend them to him. “You’re here!” He cheers, arms wrapped around your neck in a tight hug.

You giggle, doing your best to hold the boy up as he clings tightly to you. “How was school, Yu?”

“It was great! We’re learning about the oceans and sharks, and-”

As Yuji excitedly tells you about his day, Choso dips through the doorway, his eyes scanning the steps for Sukuna. As he spots both of you, a small smile makes its way to his lips and he jogs over with his hands pulling at the straps of his backpack.

Sukuna ruffles the boy’s hair, who smooths it down in response, a gleam in his eyes as he waves at the sight of you beside his brother. You smile back at him, unable to wave with the youngest Itadori in your arms. Sukuna begins leading the way back towards his apartment, listening to Yuji’s ramblings.

“- did you know that seals eat penguins? I could never eat a penguin, they’re so cute. I think seals should eat something else.”

“You think so?” You giggle at Yuji’s adamant statement.

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head. “They should just eat fish and get along with the penguins. Like you and Kuna.”

Your brow raises and you cast a glance at Sukuna, who’s also now staring at the pink-haired boy with mild interest.

“What do you mean ‘like me and Sukuna’, sweetheart?” You ask curiously, your heart doing a flip.

“You’re like a penguin because you’re really cool and nice and Kuna’s like a seal because he’s a meanie but he’s also cool. I think if seals were more like my big brother, they’d get along with penguins. Like you guys.”

Kids are wild.

You laugh as Yuji explains himself, your tone sitting somewhere between genuine chortles and something to fill a silence that might otherwise be awkward. “Tell me more about your brother being like a seal,” you urge, knowing it’ll ruffle Sukuna’s carefully preened feathers.

Yuji stares up at the clouds in thought. Your arms are beginning to tire, but you’ll hold him as long as you can, even if you know you’re holding up the walking pace. “Ummmm… well, some seals have spots and Sukuna has some on his shoulders, but he’s more stripey, like a tiger-”

“They’re not stripes, brat,” Sukuna hisses, but Yuji continues on without a care in the world.

“- and seals eat a lot and so does Kuna-”

“Alright, I’ve heard enough.”

Undeterred, the little boy continues. “- and apparently seals are really good parents, just like Kuna. I know he’s our brother, but he’s the best parent ever.”

It hits Sukuna like a shot through the chest, piercing clean straight through his heart and leaving behind a bloody hole. His jaw is heavy set as he does what he can to mask the way his little brother’s words affected him. The last thing he needs is a worried twelve-year-old and an ‘i told you so’ from you.

Because it’s then that it strikes him that you’re right.

Time and time again, you prove to him just how much he means to his brothers and each and every time he’s left balancing precariously on a cliff as he does what he can to hide the way his feet damn near betray him at the edge. It’s not like he has any reason to be upset with you over this, but to be known is to be seen, and that’s not something Sukuna’s accustomed to.

He has no issue with being the campus’ mysterious and hot ‘bad boy’, as much as the title serves to make him roll his eyes. It’s little more than a generic title given to him for surface-level facts and rumors.

To have you call him out so clearly, to be so utterly correct time after time when it comes to him and his family… He’s not sure how he feels about that. It stirs something deep within and he grits his teeth as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

Sukuna’s brow is deeply furrowed, his steps falling heavily on the snow-clad sidewalk. Ever observant, of course you caught the way his jaw trembled subtly when he heard his brother, but the moment was gone before you had a chance to consider it. Now, he just looks frustrated, even more so than usual.

It seems the new year brought with it the realization of just how close the court date is, and how horribly underprepared he is.

“Is that so?” You question Yuji, although your gaze never leaves Sukuna, brow knit in concern for him.

“Yeah! He’s the coolest!”

“He is, isn’t he?” You reply softly, shooting a look at Sukuna, who scowls at you both with an expression you can’t place.

You have to set Yuji on the ground fairly soon after, and ask Choso how his day was. The walk is spent listening to both brothers chat about their days as Sukuna is otherwise silent. Arriving at Sukuna’s front door, he tells the kids to head inside and wait for him in the lobby, waiting until they’re two doors away to talk to you.

“Will you be alright?” 

Something akin to offense passes over his eyes. It’s clear that no matter what you do, everything is getting under his skin today, so you think it’s best to leave. Besides, this is something he needs to do on his own.

“I’ll be fine,” he grits, continuing to scowl down at you. Even as frustrated as he is, his gaze softens as he stares past you and realizes you’ll need to walk back to your car on campus. “Email me when you get home,” he mutters, turning on his heel and leaving you standing out in the cold without another word.

Before he can shut the door behind him, you hesitantly take a step forward, catching the edge of the door. “Let me know if you want to talk.”

He stares at you for a split-second, contempt burning behind red irises that has you frowning at him, hurt that he’s been so short with you today. As though he realizes the same, the furrow to his brow lessens and he hums, nodding.

If that’s the most you’ll get out of him, so be it.

He turns back towards the lobby, passing through the second set of doors and following the kids as they lead the way up to the apartment. Choso reaches for Sukuna’s keys and unlocks the door, pushing through the barrier into their home. Yuji immediately goes running off to drop his bag in their room.

“Hey! Once you’re done I need you both back on the couch,” he calls after his little brother, his shoulders so tense it physically pains him to roll them back.

He can see Choso’s unease immediately, eyes wide and worried. Fuck.

Choso timidly sets his bag down in front of the couch and takes a seat at the edge of the cushion, fiddling with his fingers, the nails chewed raw. Sukuna had never noticed his brother developed that habit.

Yuji bounds excitedly to the couch, oblivious to the weighty air in the room. Choso bounces slightly as his little brother hops on the couch and plops down.

With a deep breath, Sukuna kneels down to the boys’ level, glancing between them.

“I heard from your mother,” he starts. Excitement overtakes Yuji’s expression, while Choso stiffens, his gaze anywhere but on Sukuna. “She’ll be in town soon.” He’s beating around the bush, he knows that. But how the hell do you tell two children about a lawsuit?

“Can we see her?” Yuji asks in awe.

“Lemme finish, Yu.” Sukuna takes a seat on the coffee table as his knees begin to get sore. The old wood creaks beneath his weight, not intended to support him, but it does nonetheless. “She wants ya both back.”

Sukuna pauses, letting both boys process his words.

Choso’s lips are pursed, his hands fiddling uncertainly in his lap.

“Like, we’ll all go live with her?” Yuji asks, his head tilting curiously.

Sukuna shudders at the question. If only it were so simple. “No. Just you and Choso.”

“She’s not Kuna’s mom,” Choso mutters.

In truth, Sukuna’s done a bad job of explaining their family to Yuji, making the assumption he’s too young to understand. Maybe he’s right, but it seems Choso’s willing to tell him the portions that Sukuna doesn’t want to touch.

“But… Kuna’s our brother too,” Yuji protests, frowning.

Sukuna sighs, a pang in his heart. “Listen,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “if she takes you, I won’t get to be a part of your life. If that’s what you want-”

“No!” Yuji cries out, interrupting Sukuna’s question. Choso’s fidgeting hasn’t stopped, but he has yet to say a word.

“Gimme a moment, Yu. If that’s what you want, that’s fine. I’ll let her take ya-”

“Kuna? Why do you keep saying ‘take’?” Choso finally finds his voice, eyes teary as though he already understands.

Sukuna’s lips press into a thin line, his leg bouncing as he contemplates his reply. The coffee table creaks relentlessly beneath him.

“Your mother doesn’t think I’m fit to take care of you. She’s-” he cuts himself off, running his tongue over his teeth in his mouth. “She’s tryna take you back, legally.”

“Legally?” Yuji parrots, his lips pursed.

Sukuna averts his gaze, looking for answers anywhere within the apartment, but he’s met only with a dull silence and Choso’s quiet sniffles. It’s clear he understands, and Sukuna wants nothing more than to assure him that he can win the legal battle, but the bitter truth is that Sukuna doesn’t want to lie to them.

And he’s not so confident that he can win.

“Yu, d’you remember when we watched Mrs. Doubtfire?”

Slowly, the little boy nods.

“D’you remember the part where the mom and dad are in a big room with a judge and he takes away the dad’s custody?”

Yuji blanks, nodding, although it’s clear he still doesn't fully understand.

“Well, custody is who gets to take care of kids. Right now that’s me. She wants it to be her, and neither of us get to decide that. It’s up to the judge,” Sukuna explains, trying as best as he can to offer an unbiased explanation.

“Tell her no!” Yuji cries out.

Sukuna bites down on his cheek, his brow furrowed. “I don’t get to, Yu. She’s forcing me to show up in front of the judge.”

Ever so slowly, Choso stands up off the couch, trailing closer and closer to his older brother until he’s leaning into Sukuna’s side, silent tears trailing down his cheeks and soaking into Sukuna’s shirt. Yuji seems to be starting to understand, now standing at the edge of the couch as he adamantly stands his ground as though the lawsuit is a personal attack to him.

“No! No, I don’t wanna go without you!” He proclaims loudly, his eyes beginning to water.

Sukuna can only frown as he watches the boy grapple with something he doesn’t understand.

“I don’t-” sniffle, “- I don’t wanna!” His tears now freely fall as he barrels at full force into Sukuna as well, crying into his side. He pulls both brothers closer, his exhausted gaze set straight ahead. “Please, Kuna, please!”

The apartment is filled with Yuji’s bawls and babbles, while Choso silently clings to him. The coffee table creaks beneath the three of them with every movement, threatening to give out at any moment.

“I won’t,” sniffle, “go, p- please don’t make me go! I don’t want to,” he sobs, “I don’t want to, I don’t want to!”

Denial after denial, it’s all that fills the apartment for longer than Sukuna knows what to do about.

“I don’t-” a sob wracks Yuji’s tiny body, “- even know her. I don’t remember her,” he bawls. Sukuna squeezes him as an acknowledgement, though he’s not sure what comfort he can offer. “Why can’t you come with us?”

Sukuna bites down harder than intended on his lower lip. “Your mother doesn’t like me, Yu.”

“But you-” he gasps for air between sobs, “- you’re the best.”

The taste of iron fills Sukuna’s mouth as he swipes his tongue over his lips. His chest feels as though it could implode as he tugs his two brothers tighter against him. Yuji tightly grips Sukuna’s hoodie, his little hands tugging with the full force of a five-year-old.

“I’m gonna fight for you both, okay?” He assures.

Choso sniffles, pulling back just enough to look up at his brother. “You want us?”

If Yuji saying he was the best parent earlier was a shot through the heart, this took out whatever was left. The question barreled straight through him like a train, leaving nothing behind but pieces for Sukuna to pick up. Each piece serving as a mistake in the way he’d raised the boys.

He knows all too well that this question comes from a place of insecurity, and while Choso’s mother may have laid the seed, Sukuna watered it. 

It was never intentional, he would never want Choso to feel that way, but Sukuna remembers the moment he likely solidified Choso’s insecurities all-too-well.

Three letters. Seven emails. Forty eight calls.

Make it forty nine.

“Fuck!” Sukuna slams his phone down on the table that was once his father’s.

The house that surrounds them feels foreign without his life.

Choso stares at the wood grain of the table, his eyes tracing the way it swirls. He’s long grown numb to Sukuna’s anger, especially over the past couple of weeks. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word.

He sat alongside Sukuna through each call. Through all fifty nine attempts to reach his mother, each one further solidifying Sukuna’s fate.

Sukuna, barely able to be considered an adult, is a guardian. By all accounts, he’s a parent.

Sukuna, who works for a cannabis dispensary. Sukuna, who never wanted a second family to begin with, who never wanted this responsibility, who never even wanted brothers, let alone kids, now bears the burden of fatherhood.

The legs of his chair scrape the wooden floor as he stands abruptly, running a hand over his face as he paces a small distance from the table.

He makes his way to the sink, turning the faucet to cold water and splashing it over his face. With dripping hands, he grips the edge of the counter and leans over the sink and his stomach churns and bile threatens to upend.

It wouldn’t be the first time since his father had passed away that his stomach had decided to empty itself.

With his jaw slightly ajar and his chest heaving, he pushes a wet hand through his hair, pushing himself back to his full height.

He wipes the water from his face on his sleeve, shaking his head in an effort to free his vision from his hair. His father had been so sick that Sukuna hadn’t had the time, nor the money, to bother with a haircut, or even shaving. His stubble, that of a boy barely considered an adult, is still uneven and leaves him looking as disheveled as he feels.

His eyes trail the length of the kitchen, which morphs into the living and dining room area, until they land on Choso.

The healthcare system had taken every last penny his father had left behind, and without the support of Choso and Yuji’s mother, he’s at a loss of where to go from here. Even disregarding money, he had to look up how to change a diaper. How sad is that? Looking up Youtube tutorials on what to do?

It’s not like he hadn’t looked after his brothers before, but his father never left him alone long enough to need to worry about that sort of thing. Now it seemed that changing a diaper was the least of his problems.

He teetered constantly somewhere between pissed off and lost and had no one to fall back on, something that became painfully obvious when he’d contemplated going to the hospital when his chest tightened so much that breathing was a forced effort. In the end, he’d been able to do little more than clutch desperately at his chest as he laid on the floor of the bathroom, the cool tile the only reprieve from his lonely agony.

He could reach out to Toji. Hell, he should. But when his father got sick, Sukuna pushed him away. He pushed everyone away. He thinks he’s more comfortable alone now, even if that leaves him staring at his little brother without a clue of what to do.

Choso hasn’t said a word to him since the whole ordeal occurred. The grief had taken its toll on Sukuna’s body and attitude, but it had completely silenced his brother. Although he still stuck around Sukuna, somehow still wanting to be around the grief and anger-stricken man, he never said a word.

The oldest brother cares. He cares a whole lot about his two siblings. Even if this isn’t what he ever wanted, even if he wasn’t prepared to handle the burden of two young kids. Even if he didn’t want siblings to begin with, Sukuna grew to care.

It doesn’t change the fact that he’s filled with contempt towards their mother for shoving the two boys onto him like this.

As he stares at Choso, a stark contrast to himself and their baby brother who both resemble their father, he sees her staring back at him. Choso and Yuji’s mother.

He shouldn’t have done what he did next.

He should have thought about his reactions.

He would change everything about how he acted towards his little brother in a heartbeat if he could.

But Sukuna, mentally, was on another plane as his lip curled in disdain. “Won’t fuckin’ answer,” he mutters, more to himself although he looks straight at his brother. “Some fuckin’ mother you’ve got, kid.”

As if on cue, Yuji begins crying from another room.

“Fuck!” Sukuna cries out again, trudging angrily across the kitchen to the toddler’s room.

Just in time to make sure he doesn’t see Choso’s tears.

Sukuna’s sure that moment replays in the boy’s head constantly. He sees it every once in a while, the seed of doubt that Sukuna watered that day, along with every other day before and following. He would give anything to take back how he acted. But what the hell does one expect from your stereotypical troubled teen who doesn’t know how to cook, hardly cleans, and has no one to talk to?

What the hell was Sukuna meant to do when he’d thrown up the previous night’s dinner and laid on the floor until he woke up in a sickening daze early the next morning to Yuji crying?

He hopes, prays, to whatever god on earth will listen, that he can make up for it. Make up for all the mistakes, all the problems. Make up for the ways he’d failed his brothers.

“I do, Cho,” he answers, the first certain thing he’s managed to say since they’d arrived home. “Promise.”

Choso’s grip tightens as his face collides with Sukuna’s side so hard he thinks the poor kid’s gonna bruise his nose.

“I love you, Kuna.” Choso’s voice is so quiet that Sukuna hardly makes out what he said over his little brother’s sobs.

Yuji parrots the middle brother, though his words come out a choppy mess behind his tears. “I- love-” sniffle, “- y- you, Kunaaa.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he gruffs, grimacing. He stares at the couch, his eyes flickering between the three indentations that have formed over the last three years. The material is significantly more worn on his side of the couch, the least worn in the center where Yuji likes to sit. In the back of his mind, something akin to guilt rears its ugly head and he continues his thought before he says something he regrets.

Or, more specifically, before he doesn’t say something and regrets it.

“Love ya both too.”

–

It takes a long time, but Sukuna manages to quiet both brothers down. As a treat, he buys them chicken from Strip Joint, which they were about as thrilled as two devastated young kids could be.

He’s not sure exactly how soundly they’ll manage to sleep, but he’s thankful when Yuji passes out fairly easily after a long afternoon of relentless tears.

Shutting his door behind him, Sukuna sighs as he’s finally able to catch his breath for what feels like the first time today.

He collapses onto his bed against the headboard, running his hands over his face.

Pulling his hands back, he stares at his palms, warm and wet.

Tears.

Is he so worn thin that he can’t even feel his own tears?

Shit.

He wipes his tears on the sleeve of his poor hoodie, which is covered in Yuji’s tears, snot, and spit, Choso’s tears, and now Sukuna’s too.

He pulls it up over his head, pushing his hair back out of his face. It’s getting long again, but Sukuna doesn’t have the time to deal with it.

He hopes to god that his previous transgressions from all those years ago don’t repeat themselves simply because Sukuna’s at wit’s end.

He scratches uncomfortably at his chest, desperate for a shower, anything to take his mind off of the shitty day he’s had. Undressing, he wraps a towel around his waist and walks down the hall to climb into the shower, splaying his hands on the tiles as hot water runs over his body, cleaning him of the dirt and grime that plagues his body, alongside some of the tension in his muscles.

He blinks his eyes open as water trails down his hair, falling in a steady stream down his chin.

The day feels like a blur.

His chest tightens as his muscles relax, a familiar feeling that he fears will leave him laying on the bathroom floor again.

It hasn’t been that bad in years. He didn’t think it would ever be that bad again.

Pushing himself up, he runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back and wiping water from his eyes as he finishes showering. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he slips back into his room, inhaling sharply as his chest seems to compress against his lungs.

Too tired to bother with the outside world, he slips under the covers without a second thought. He doesn’t bother to check if you made it home safe. He doesn’t bother to set out his clothing for tomorrow. He doesn’t even bother to set an alarm. He simply shuts his eyes and hopes to god that he can get a full night’s rest.

Unfortunately, that’s not in the books for Sukuna.

–

Much to your dismay, you don’t see Sukuna again until Friday, four days later. It took him nearly twenty four hours to get back to your message about being home, or the subsequent one the following day upon realizing he wasn’t at lunch, nor in class.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Tuesday, 5:29 PM im fine. cho didnt sleep. been a long day

You had grimaced and offered condolences, but at the end of the day, you suppose there isn’t much more you can do when he’s not looking for help.

That doesn’t mean Shoko didn’t have to drag you out to the mall and convince you not to show up at his door regardless. Thankful for her distraction, you indulged in getting yourself a new sweater and celebrated the fact that oh my god, your history prof from last semester was suspended for his (terrible) teaching methods?? If only the school had done that one semester earlier.

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t be nearly as close with Sukuna if that were the case.

Maybe that would have been for the best.

But the tightness in your heart tells you otherwise as you sit alone in your Literature History class.

It’s funny, that without Sukuna’s distraction beside you, you’re somehow finding it harder to focus without him in the chair beside you. Absently typing at your keyboard, you stare at the screen, your eyes trailing the notes you’ve been taking. They mostly make sense, but your brain must be working on autopilot, because you haven’t processed a single word the professor said.

Rubbing the crease between your brows, you do your best to tune in, chewing on your lower lip and narrowing your eyes as if it’ll do you any good.

The door at the front of the class loudly swings open and Sukuna barges in without a word, trudging straight up to your seat with his hoodie up.

“Class started twenty minutes ago, Ryomen.”

From your angle, you see the snarl on his face, you see the way he practically whips towards her with a world of stress in his eyes and the anger to match. But whether he chooses to take the high road, or simply decides it isn’t worth it, he manages only a measly “yeah. Whatever.”

He should consider himself lucky he isn’t sent away for that, but with only a disappointed grimace, the professor chooses to carry on.

“You’re here,” you whisper, as quietly as you can manage so as not to get him in further trouble.

He sighs. “Finally managed to get them to class today.”

“They haven’t been going to school?”

“Couldn’t get ‘em to,” he mutters, keeping his head low behind his laptop screen as he slumps back in his seat.

You glance at him, a sympathetic frown adorning your lips, but you keep quiet to avoid getting called out by the professor again. Sukuna keeps unusually quiet and withdrawn throughout the entirety of class, packing up as quickly as he came.

He’s on his feet and charging down the stairs before you have so much as a moment to with him.

“Ryomen! A word.”

You watch with dismay as Sukuna whips around angrily to the professor, grumbling out a less-than-thrilled “what?” as he reaches the last step near the door. “Make it quick. I got somewhere to be.”

You grit your teeth, watching with horror as the professor’s brow raises in disbelief at Sukuna’s attitude.

“Mr. Sukuna, if you don’t want to be here, you’re more than welcome to drop my class. You’ve made it very clear that this is not your priority, and-”

Sukuna drops his bag to the ground with a thud, as the students who haven’t already slipped out, including yourself, all watch the interaction in trepidation. “Yeah, you could say it’s not,” he growls. “I got other shit going on.”

“I can sympathize with that,” the professor replies. You have to applaud her patience with the man. “However, I have a class to teach. Whether you choose to show up or not is on you, however I’ll ask that you please don’t distract other students by arriving late.”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches, visibly biting his tongue to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. “Yeah. Sure,” he dismisses, turning to grab his bag. He slings it over his shoulder and slams the door ajar with his shoulder, barging out without another word.

You traverse down the stairs and chase after him, jogging to catch up to his long strides.

“Sukuna!” You call just before falling into step with him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he hisses, shooting you a glare. He falters when your expression recoils appropriately to his prickly reply. Sighing, he runs a hand down his face. “I’m fine,” he repeats, less edge to his tone this time.

“Oh. Okay. Um, are you still good to meet with Kento and his friend?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, clipped.

“That’s good,” you agree, nodding as you search for common ground, something Sukuna might be a bit more receptive to. “Did you want company while you pick up Choso and Yuji?”

He casts you a glance, his expression unreadable. “Up to you.”

He’s not making this easy.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing how they’re doing.”

He doesn’t even bother with a reply this time, he simply shrugs.

“Okay, um, I’ll come with you then,” you mumble hesitantly, gauging his reaction, but he remains silent, pulling ahead to walk in front of you as he heads for the doors and turns in the direction of his brothers’ school.

The silence no longer carries a familiar warmth, or even the relative discomfort from earlier in the week. It hangs over you like a fog now, uncertainty tucked within its blanket. Sukuna hardly seems to notice you’re there, never turning to acknowledge you nor straying off his path. Each time you contemplate talking, the words die in your throat at the sight of his tense jaw.

At least it’s warmer today than it was on Monday.

Standing at Sukuna’s side as you arrive at the school, you quietly examine his face. His eyes are sunken and heavy and his shoulders hunched as though the weight of his burdens are hardly being held up anymore. His eyes are glazed in a way that tells you his dismissive attitude towards you is because he isn’t all there, not present even within his own body.

Clearly the talk with his brothers has had adverse effects not only on them, but him as well.

Hesitantly, you reach out in hopes to ground him, setting a hand near his wrist, where the tips of your fingers graze his skin as they breach the edge of his sleeve. His eyes sharpen as he stares down at the contact of your hand.

Sukuna is accustomed to the way that your skin always seems to sear him. He’s chalked it up all this time to lust, but as the contact of your skin, so soft and gentle, just barely brushes his, he second-guesses himself for a split-second. As if on auto-pilot, he can only watch as he pulls his hand from his coat pocket, flipping it to brush the tips of his fingers against yours. Offering a comfort he isn’t familiar with, one that keeps him present, he fiddles with your fingers as you simply observe his face.

“Are you okay, Kuna?” You keep your voice low, your tone gentle as you take a step towards him, letting him run his thumb over your knuckles as he pleases.

It takes a moment, but he meets your gaze, really meets your gaze, for the first time today. His eyes fall again to your hand as he avoids your question. “They didn’t take it well.”

You nod slowly. “I didn’t think they would,” you admit with a tight-lipped smile. “The nightmares…?”

“None of us have slept.”

“I…” You grimace. “Can tell.” You gently squeeze the tips of his fingers that continue to fiddle with yours.

His chest rumbles in something akin to a laugh, though it lacks humor. “I figured goin’ back to school would do ‘em good, maybe help with sleeping. Cho wasn’t thrilled.”

“He’ll be alright,” you assure Sukuna, the school bell sounding from behind you. His fingers pause for a moment, before he drops his hand back to his side.

Yuji is one of the first kids out the door. He seems to be managing, although his usual energy is certainly dulled. He runs at full force straight into Sukuna, who picks him up with ease as the child clings to him.

“Missed you, Kuna.”

Sukuna hums, gently nudging the boy with his shoulder. “Look who’s here.”

Yuji lifts his head, flipping it around until his gaze finds you. He calls your name happily, though it’s still dulled from the usual excitement that surrounds him. His arms reach for you and Sukuna plops him down on the snow to let him run straight for you.

“Hey sweetheart,” you greet, kneeling before him to let him hug you. Reeling back, you gently brush his hair from his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” He pouts, shaking his head. His hair falls back over his forehead again, so you brush the stray pink strands from his eyes once more. “I miss my brother.”

“Hey,” you coo softly. “He’s not letting you go, honey. We’re going to meet one of my friends for some advice, okay?”

Yuji’s head tilts. “Huh? Advice for Cho?”

You mirror him, brow furrowed. “What’s going on with Cho?”

“He doesn’t wanna play anymore,” Yuji pouts, staring down at the snow under his little feet as he rocks side to side. His little cheeks are red, whether from the cold or unshed tears, you aren’t sure.

With a grunt of effort, you pull the little boy into your arms. He clings to you, burying his head into the crook of your neck as you turn to his older brother. “Is Choso okay?” You query, concerned.

“I’ll let you judge for yourself.”

You turn to the door where Choso emerges, his appearance ghostly. His movements are mechanical as he makes his way up to you and Sukuna. He shoots a glance up to you, but doesn’t acknowledge you otherwise, staring blankly off to the side as he waits for Sukuna to lead the way.

“Hey, Choso.”

Silence.

You frown, precariously balancing Yuji in one arm to reach down and gently run a hand over Choso’s hair. He blinks a few times, meeting your gaze. Although the boy traditionally looks tired, his eyes are devoid of warmth. He’s running on empty, completely gassed, and you can understand suddenly why all three of them had no desire to show up to classes.

“You know what I think this day calls for?” You shouldn’t be shocked to find that none of the three brothers reply, but Sukuna at the very least gives you his attention. “How do you three like cinnamon buns?”

“I like them,” Yuji mumbles into your shoulder, gripping your coat.

Well, at least one of them will give you an answer. If that’s the best you can get, you’ll take it.

“Great! You can get whatever treats you’d like, alright?”

Your enthusiasm is met with silence. This is one of those moments where it becomes glaringly obvious who raised the two boys.

Simply to fill the silence, you inquire with Yuji how his day went, plopping him onto the ground when he becomes too heavy to carry. He gingerly reaches for your hand, squeezing it as he talks about his day and a book his class has begun to read.

Yuji begins to drag your hand, falling further and further behind as he grows tired, practically trying to clamber onto your back as you stop to wait for a crosswalk.

Taking notice, Sukuna reaches down to pick up his little brother. “C’mere,” he mumbles as he lifts the child over his head until he’s sitting soundly on the man’s shoulders. You smile softly at the sight. They may not share a mother, but you’d hardly believe it. They’re like twins, only born several years apart.

Yuji idly tugs at Sukuna’s hair as he sits atop the man’s shoulders, a good six feet taller than where he usually stands. His older brother swats at his hands with a grimace, staring ahead as the boy settles and leans his torso on the back of Sukuna’s head.

You keep an eye on Choso, who begins to trail behind the closer you get to the cafe. You’re a good thirty minutes early, but you don’t think it’s a particularly good idea to have the kids listening into the legal discussion either way, so this will give you a chance to grab a table just for them.

Sukuna ducks as he walks into the cafe, ensuring he doesn’t smack his brother’s head on the doorframe, while you trail behind to wait for Choso. When his eyes meet your feet in front of him, they slowly trail up until he finds your gaze. It twists your heart, to see how blankly he stares at you.

“Hey honey. If you don’t want to talk, that’s totally fine, but I just want you to know I’m here.”

His eyes flicker between yours.

Kneeling down to his height, you smile softly. “Do you remember when you found that paperwork and I told you that your brother would talk to me if he needed help?”

Choso blinks a couple of times, and for a moment, you think that’s the most you’ll get from him, but he finds it in himself to nod.

“Well, he did come to me for help. We’re gonna meet my friends at the cafe in a bit and they’re gonna help your brother. He’s fighting for you. We’ll figure things out, okay?”

He nods again, taking a meager step forward before finding his way into your arms. You hug him back tightly and rub his back.

“Thank you.” It’s quiet and hoarse, you can tell he hasn’t spoken in a while. But it’s a step forward, and you’ll take it.

A knock on the glass grabs your attention and you pull back a bit to look up at the cafe window above you. The picture of stoicism, Sukuna stares down at you from within, pointing behind him with his thumb.

‘Got us a table,’ he mouths through the glass, before turning back towards the interior. You don’t catch a word he says, narrowing your eyes as you try to make out what he’s trying to tell you.

“He got a table.” Choso mumbles, the tiniest hint of a smile on his face as you turn back to him.

“Is he, like- really bad at that?” You ask, smirking as you point a thumb in the direction where Sukuna was moments ago.

Choso nods, his smile turning up sliiiiightly more.

“And here I thought it was just me,” you grin, standing back up and leading the way to the back of the cafe where Sukuna’s got two tables reserved, one with four seats, and a smaller one with two. He must be on the same wavelength as you, having deliberately chosen a table with enough distance to keep the conversation private, while still having the kids nearby.

He pulls a stack of very ripped and wrinkled papers from his bag, setting them face down on the table as Choso crawls into a tall chair beside his brother. With an arched brow, you set your hand on the paperwork as you take a seat beside him, asking a silent question.

“You can read ‘em if you want.”

Flipping them, your eyes first skim the tape that holds each page together, then the contents themselves.

“What happened to them?”

“I was pissed.”

Clearly. But you keep that thought to yourself. You skim the contents of the legal documents, nails tapping against the faux wood grain table rhythmically.

Case No. 2493

Social File No. 34785-98

Next Court Date: March 23rd.

In The Matter of Choso Itadori and Yuji Itadori.

Turns out, it only takes four sentences before you’re frowning at the page, the legal jargon a little bit beyond you. Of course, it’s not entirely illegible and you’re thankful you’re an English literature major, but the jurisdiction codes and notes are a bit beyond any English diploma.

“This is… a lot.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Sukuna mumbles, glancing at his watch. “We got some time, you want anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks Kuna.” Keeping your head buried in the paperwork as you try to dissect an ounce of what the documents say, you chew on your lip as Sukuna drags his brothers to the counter before stepping off to the side to await his order.

With your head down and brow furrowed in documents, you don’t notice Kento standing opposite you with a decently sized box from your parents.

“Good afternoon,” Kento greets you, punctuating the sentence with your name. Your head whips up with a smile as you greet the two men. Standing beside Kento is another tall man with tousled short brown hair, sunken eyes, and a prominent nose. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, with a blazer over top, which is about what you would imagine a law student wears. “This is Higuruma,” he introduces the man.

“Hiromi is fine,” he chuckles, surprisingly informal for someone leaning in to extend his hand to you.

Shaking his hand, you flash him a grin. “Nice to meet you,” you greet him, imparting your name. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“It’s not a problem,” Hiromi chuckles kindly, taking a seat kitty cornered from you while Kento sits across from you. Hiromi has an air of tiredness about him that’s not entirely dissimilar to that of Sukuna.

Sukuna returns just in time, a tray of cups held high above the ground to prevent a certain young boy from dangling off his arm and spilling them.

That same young boy happens to be dangling off his other arm, though it hardly seems to weigh the man down as he easily holds both the boy and the bag of treats up. He mumbles something to Choso as he sets the tray down, making a motion for the boy to look in his backpack.

Kento and Hiromi watch in barely-masked shock as Sukuna gently directs the kids to a smaller table in the corner, handing them the bag of sweets and a cup of hot chocolate each. Choso tucks a couple of coloring books and markers beneath his elbow as well as they leisurely make their way to the little table in the corner.

With a heavy, tired, sigh, Sukuna takes a seat beside you, pulling the last two cups out and setting one in front of himself and one in front of you.

“Oh, I don’t-”

Ignoring you outright, Sukuna speaks up. “Woulda gotten you both somethin’ but I don’t know your orders,” he gruffs to the two men opposite him, his jaw tightening at the painfully obvious shock and hint of guilt that gleams in Kento’s eyes.

“That’s… Quite alright,” Kento clears his throat, introducing Hiromi and Sukuna to one another before passing you the box of belongings your parents had sent with him. Hiromi extends his hand again, though Sukuna’s not so eager to take it. It’s all a bit formal for him.

“So, I assume this has to do with legal questions,” Hiromi chuckles wryly as you take a sip of your drink.

Your exact order.

Sukuna remembered.

Sukuna hums, sliding the papers across the table without a word. Hiromi coughs once at the sight of the ripped papers, stifling a laugh at the unsightly state of them. It fades almost immediately as his eyes trace the Times New Roman that litters the page.

With a sigh, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning over the table.

“Right. Before we start, I need to make something clear. What I’m doing right now is illegal as a student, so you can’t breathe a word that I was here,” he states firmly, hollowed eyes flickering between the both of you.

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Sukuna mumbles, amusement pricking the edge of his tone.

Hiromi glances back at the kids, catching his meaning. “They’re yours, then? Legally, I mean?”

“Yeah.”

Hiromi sighs again, nodding. “I see. Give me a moment to read these.”

“In the meantime, can I get you both something to drink?” You ask politely.

“Coffee, black, please,” Hiromi replies, leaning over the table on his elbow as he tilts the first page read over a rip, casting the glare on the tape elsewhere.

“That will be fine for myself as well, thank you,” Kento smiles kindly. He waits until you’re out of earshot to speak to Sukuna while Hiromi reads. “She cares about you a great deal, you know.”

A muscle in Sukuna’s jaw ticks. He had a feeling this was coming, though he’d hoped you simply wouldn’t leave his side. He can only avoid his mistakes so long, it seems.

“She’s a good friend.”

Kento’s reaction gives nothing away, his observant expression looking for a break in Sukuna’s aloof features, any sign that he’s the shallow asshole Kento had taken him for. When he doesn’t find it, he nods slowly.

“She is. She deserves that same treatment back.”

Sukuna’s lip twitches, bordering on a snarl that he only holds back out of courtesy of the blonde doing him a favor. “I’m aware.”

Kento sighs, his posture relaxing in his seat as Sukuna bites his tongue, matching Kento’s sigh with a striking glare. “Listen, I believe that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, and given how close she is to both of us, I’d prefer to be on friendly terms.”

“Mm.”

Gathering that Sukuna isn’t one for words, Kento continues. “I see now that there are…” he pauses, his eyes sliding to the right where the two kids are quietly coloring. “Extenuating circumstances behind what happened and I may have misdirected my anger. So, I apologize.”

Sukuna quietly observes Kento’s surprisingly sincere apology, nodding slowly. “I appreciate you lookin’ out for her.”

Sukuna doesn’t exactly verbally accept the apology, but that’s not uncharacteristic of him. Besides, he can’t exactly hold a grudge against the man who’s helping him in a legal battle. 

“Of course. Let it be known, however, that if you hurt her again, I will not take it so lightly.” Kento adds grimly.

Sukuna huffs. “‘Course.”

“Great.” Kento extends a hand as an act of good will.

“Can we cut the formalities? They aren’t really my deal.”

Kento cracks a smile, nodding. “Sure, Sukuna.”

The sounds of the cafe make for a relatively comfortable silence in spite of Hiromi’s obvious discomfort of the conversation happening over his head. The sounds of the coffee machines, clinking of glasses, and slamming of fridges help to make the environment a little easier on the three men.

“Alright,” you plop down in your chair once more, “two black coffees.”

Both men thank you as you settle beside Sukuna.

“How are the kids?” You quietly ask, leaning back to glance at them.

Sukuna shrugs. “Coloring Spider-Man probably. They seem fine.”

“Alright,” Hiromi taps the stack of unkempt papers against the table, grabbing a pen from the pocket of his blazer and a stack of sticky notes from his pocket. Somehow that’s just so law student that you find yourself with a lopsided smile as you watch. “I’ll need a bit of extra info, can I ask some questions?”

Sukuna slides back in his chair, grimacing to hide his disdain for needing to share his personal life. “Shoot.”

“Right. So, I’ll need the relationships of everyone involved in their lives. Parents, grandparents, and siblings.” He positions his pen to take notes.

Sukuna, begrudgingly as ever, sighs. “Kaori and Jin Itadori are their parents, Jin passed away three or so years ago,” he begins, his leg tapping beneath the table. You’ve noticed he seems to do that whenever the subject of his father comes up around people he isn’t comfortable with. “I’m their half-brother. Father’s side.”

Hiromi nods, writing away with his pen.

“No family remaining on the father’s side apart from myself. They got an uncle and aunt on the mother’s side, as well as a grandfather, I got no contact or names for any of ‘em.”

Hiromi glances up, his eyes sliding towards you. “And your girlfri-”

“We’re friends. She looks after ‘em sometimes,” Sukuna interrupts, keeping his gaze straight ahead. You’re grateful he does, your cheeks absolutely alight with heat. Pulling your hands politely into your lap, you fiddle with your fingers.

Sensing he may have hit a sore subject, Hiromi scratches the back of his neck. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, returning to his notes. “Right. How’d you end up with custody to begin with?”

“Their mother moved for a job before Yuji turned one. When I reached out when our father passed away, she didn’t respond.” Sukuna keeps his replies short and simple, only divulging what he needs to.

Hiromi pauses for a brief moment to stare at Sukuna, as if in disbelief. Kento’s expression matches, but he quickly clears his throat to keep the conversation going. “And the contact with their uncle and aunt? Grandfather?”

“They ain’t my family. I don’t have contact. Lawyers tried, no answer.” He shrugs.

Hiromi jots down more notes, pointing the back of his pen towards Sukuna. “That’s good for you, by the way.”

Sukuna nods slowly, though he’s unable to let his guard down regardless.

“What methods of contact did you use?”

Hiromi clicks his pen a number of times and Sukuna crosses his arms over his chest. “Email, mail, and phone.”

“Was she in communication before Jin passed?” Hiromi queries, leaning over his notes.

Sukuna pauses, narrowing his eyes in thought. “I think so. I don’t have Jin’s phone anymore.”

Hiromi hums, scratching his jaw as he takes down notes. “I see. Are the kids…” he pauses, swinging the end of his pen in the direction of their table, “aware of this?”

Sukuna visibly tenses. “Yeah.”

Gingerly, you slide your leg closer until it’s sidled next to him. Although he doesn’t react, his bouncing leg slows to a halt, as does the subtle shaking of the table. You smile to yourself that you’re able to bring him the comfort he stubbornly refuses to ask for.

“Did she come to you first before sending these over?” Hiromi asks, making a motion towards the legal documents.

Sukuna shakes his head.

“Right. That should do it for the petitioner’s side,” Hiromi hums, tapping the back of his pen against his notes. “Let’s talk about you and your brothers.”

“My favorite subject,” Sukuna grumbles.

Hiromi offers a sympathetic smile. “I get it, believe me. I’m a pretty private person, too. Now, what’s your major?”

“History.”

Hiromi’s brow raises. He seems somewhat surprised, though he doesn’t voice it. “Got anything lined up for when you graduate?”

“No.”

“I assume you’re working as well.”

Sukuna grits his teeth, fed up with the overly personal questions. “Yeah. I’m a mechanic and I stock shelves.”

Hiromi leans on his arm as he jots that down. “You’re a busy guy,” he mumbles, met with Sukuna’s glare at the unhelpful commentary. Hiromi seems unphased, chuckling. “Sorry, my bad. Do you own or rent?”

“I rent an apartment.”

“Three bedroom?”

“Two.”

“Got it. Alright,” he sighs, running both hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair until it’s precariously balancing on the back two legs. With a thud, the chair slams down onto the floor. “Sounds like a fairly standard case. There’s a number of things here that’ll work in your favor, but-” he pauses, wording his statement carefully. “Trying to win a guardianship case against their biological mother isn’t something I would call easy.”

Sukuna nods.

“Let’s go over the basics. She’s trying to claim them as her right as their mother, but she’s also claiming you’re unfit for guardianship on two counts, lack of funds and irresponsibility. That means you’ll need to prove otherwise on both counts, while also convincing them that the right place for the kids is with you,” Hiromi states, shuffling the opening page aside to briskly scan the second page. “At the end of the day, the judge will choose what’s right for the kids. The mother will have a bit of a leg up on you since she won’t have to fight any claims of ill-doing.”

Sukuna frowns. That doesn’t exactly bode well for him.

“You’ve got some good things going for you, though. You should have a record or be able to pull a record of your contact with her. Having two jobs, although not ideal, has its merits as well. Your brothers are clearly both healthy and I assume you’ve kept them in school as well and you’ve had them for three years now, that’s a strong argument.”

“There’s a ‘but’ somewhere here,” Sukuna frowns.

“There… is,” Hiromi agrees, running another hand through his tousled hair and disheveling it further. He leans forward, picking up the stack of legal papers. “I’m assuming the reason she took a job overseas in the first place is for money. She’s paying for a good lawyer,” he points out, setting the paper back down on the table and sliding towards Sukuna. “They’re expensive for a reason, and they’re not just the best in the city. They have national renown.”

Your heart sinks at the sound of that. “So, pro-bono…?”

“It’s certainly an option,” Hiromi avoids your gaze as he replies, something that doesn’t sit well with you. “Legal clinics and pro-bono are meant more for standard cases-”

“You said this was standard,” Sukuna contains his growl, his voice strained. His leg presses hard against yours, his anger contained with all the strength of a bottle cap.

“It is, on paper. The problem here that I’m concerned about is her choice of lawyers.” He taps his pen on his notes as Sukuna drags his hands over his face in exasperation. “They aren’t… exactly known for losing.”

“Fucking... Just fucking great,” Sukuna gripes, leaning over the table on heavy shoulders. He downs what’s left of his coffee, pressing a thumb into the crease between his brows.

“I would be willing to bet that she purposely chose to spring this on you before the kids are old enough to testify.”

“Choso isn’t old enough…?” You query with a frown.

Hiromi slides the legal papers back towards himself, looking over the listed birth date. “No, he’s one year off, and even if he was, you would still need to convince them he’s mature enough.”

“Fuck,” Sukuna sighs, his chest tight. “So my odds aren’t good then, are they?”

Hiromi watches his words as he scratches the back of his neck. “Uh, they’re not ideal. I’d say two to one, but not impossible. You do have a lot going for you.”

“What do you think he should do?” You ask softly.

Hiromi sighs. “Your best bet will be to really lean in on the fact that you’ve had them for three years because she never replied. Call your cell carrier and get phone logs if they’ve kept them, grab any copies of letters sent, pull up emails, anything you can to prove you reached out.” Hiromi pauses, setting his pen on the table as he takes a sip of coffee. “Pull up every record you have that proves the kids are in good health. Things like vaccination records will go a long way. If you can get your employers to write letters detailing your work ethic, that’s worthwhile too. Anything to prove you’re fit.”

Great. His employers get to know about his brothers. Everyone gets to see into Sukuna’s personal life.

Just fucking great.

Sukuna leans hard against his hand, roughly rubbing his eyes. “Sure,” he huffs, swinging a hand through the air. “Why the fuck would she be doing this in the first place?” He leans back suddenly, whipping his hand through the air in exasperation. “Three years ago it wasn’t her fuckin’ problem, so what changed?”

Hiromi flips to the third page of the documents. “If I were to guess, she wants the government grants for childcare.” His eyes skim the second paragraph on the page, pausing as he thinks over what legal code the paperwork is recalling. “I assume you get that right now with two dependents.”

“Yeah, it pays my fuckin’ rent. She’s got money, though, what the fuck changed?”

Sukuna’s clearly running out of patience, to no fault of Hiromi’s, but he’s completely unphased by him. Whatever type of law he’s going into, he must be accustomed to this kind of behavior.

With a tight-lipped smile, Hiromi shrugs. “All I can do is guess. I don’t know.”

Sukuna rakes a hand through his hair. “So, what the hell do I do about the pro-bono thing?”

“I have some contacts that I can recommend that might give you a break on the cash side, but yeah. I’d recommend against going the free route. I really don’t think you’ll have a foot to stand on if you do that.”

Sukuna stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the tile flooring. It echoes loudly around the little cafe, pulling all attention towards him, but he pays it no mind. His brow twitches, crimson eyes filled with distress. “How expensive are we talkin’?”

Hiromi frowns sympathetically. “Two months’ rent I’d guess, though they may cut you a break but it’ll depend on how long you spend with them.”

Looking between the kids and Sukuna, you can see the questions rising from them as their brother holds the cafe’s attention. In an effort to keep everyone calm, you brush your fingers gently against Sukuna’s wrist, your nails dragging softly over his wrist tattoo. “Take a seat,” you urge him, pointedly tilting your head towards his little brothers, who are both staring at him with wide eyes.

Sukuna inhales sharply, taking his seat again. “Is that the high or low end of your guess?”

“High,” Hiromi tries to assure him.

“Great,” Sukuna growls, his anger directed at no one in particular.

“Is there anything else we should know?” You query quietly in an effort to keep the conversation from Choso and Yuji.

Hiromi taps his fingers on the table in thought. “I get it, Sukuna, I really do, but you need to have the patience of a god in court.” Sukuna’s teeth grit on instinct. “A judge won’t take kindly to a mouthy defense. Only speak when spoken to. Got that?”

Sukuna scoffs with all the dramatism of a man falling apart at the seams. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“Thank you, Hiromi. This is a huge help, really.”

He offers a kind smile. “It’s no problem, really. But remember, you got this info online or something,” he chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ll have Kento send you some of my contacts.”

“Thank you. And no problem, this was nothing more than a helpful websearch,” you giggle, checking on Sukuna in your peripherals. He’s staring at his little brothers, the sound of clinking metal muffled by his pocket as he opens and shuts his lighter.

You give him a nudge, pulling him back to the present, if only for a moment. “Mm. Thanks, Hiromi.”

Hiromi, clearly sympathetic to what Sukuna’s going through, smiles. “Happy to help. Thanks for the coffee.”

You say your goodbyes and gather the kids’ belongings and the box from your parents, offering Sukuna a ride home. It’s chilly and getting dark, and the last thing you need is for a man not in his right mind to try to walk two scared kids home.

Fuck, what a situation he’s in.

He accepts your offer with a nod, letting you lead the way and chat with the kids as he trails behind.

The ride is quiet. Even by Yuji’s standards, it’s painfully quiet. He points out some street art of a monster with a crown that he likes, but it seems to be the most even the five-year-old can manage. Their whole family is emotionally drained.

Even by your standards, you’re running on empty at this point. There’s only so much emotional strain you can handle and between the concern that had distracted you all week and a long day of walking on eggshells around Sukuna, your social battery is running low too. There’s only so much you can handle when the man in your passenger seat has nestled his way into your heart and left an irreparable hole in which only he could fit.

Your heart can only handle so much distant love.

It became increasingly clear over the past week that his absence was making your heart grow fonder. Although you were apart for a while after Christmas, his continual emails sated the part of you that craved him so desperately. Without that, a chasm opened and swallowed you whole, unable to fight it for even a moment.

Still, even in the bone-weary silence of your car, being surrounded by Sukuna and his sweet little family holds a temporary bandage around the pieces of your heart. It’s flimsy at best, fleeting as it begins to unravel with each disheartening snap and gripe that comes from Sukuna, but you can’t blame him when his entire world is caving in around him.

Hell, you can’t even begin to worry about the pain the squeezes your heart when he’s barely holding it together beside you. Usually the face of stoicism, yet his well-put-together seams are cracking, revealing his facade not just to you, but to everyone.

Sukuna’s door swings open the moment you park as he stumbles on his feet as though your vehicle had been claustrophobic. He sets a large palm on the hood of your car to steady himself, dazed.

Pushing down the uneasy feeling building in your chest, you keep calm as you lift Yuji out of the back seat and watch him run over to Choso, getting on the tips of his toes to whisper something into Choso’s ear.

Rounding the car, you try to grab Sukuna’s attention, the look of helplessness on his face catching you off guard as he makes a point of hiding from his brothers. His grip on your car is unyielding, his knuckles white from the effort of holding himself upright.

“Keys?” You whisper quietly. He blinks a couple of times, his chest rising and falling startlingly quickly as he fumbles in his jacket pocket with his spare hand. “I got it.” Gingerly reaching out, you slip your hand into his pocket, careful to pull out only his keys and not his lighter.

Jogging up to Choso, you smile reassuringly. “I just need to talk to your brother. You two go upstairs for me, okay? Lock the door behind you.”

Choso nods, pausing to peek past you at his older brother. There’s a silent question in his eyes that he won’t voice. Whether that’s a trauma response or that he knows you understand, you can’t say for sure.

���He’s okay, don’t worry sweetheart,” you reassure him, ruffling his hair.

He puts his trust in you with a half-hearted attempt at a smile and grabs Yuji’s hand to lead the way into the building.

The sun has mostly set over the horizon at this point, casting dark purple hues over Sukuna’s tattooed cheeks. He hunches over the hood of your car, leaning his body so heavily over the vehicle that it dips under his weight. He exhales shakily, dragging his hands down his face.

In your best effort to comfort him, you gently rub his back. His muscles are taut beneath the down of his winter coat, his back rising and falling just a bit too quickly for your comfort.

“Sukuna?”

He forces himself upright, raking his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck!” He barks, taking a step away from you to pace along the side of your car. His mind is a jumbled mess and he doesn’t know how to make sense of the thoughts that seem to relentlessly batter him, leaving him with a heaving, tight chest, searing anger, and something he can’t put a name to.

Anxiety.

“Sukuna?” You try again as his pacing grows erratic.

“Fuck, I don’t fucking-” he stammers, fists balling at his sides as he struggles not to launch the closest thing to his hand into the wall. Again. He doesn’t need to break his lighter twice in only a couple of months.

You take a step towards him in an attempt to disrupt his pacing course, but he simply turns on his heel in the other direction.

“That fucking-”

“Sukuna!” You jog around to face him, gripping the open front of his black coat and stopping him abruptly.

“What?” He snarls breathlessly, pulling back against your grip.

You don’t relent, keeping him in place although you know he has the strength to tear himself from you if he wanted.

“Can you breathe, Kuna?”

He tugs against you once more, gripping the top of your vehicle. It’s cold on the pads of his fingers, a sharp contrast to the blazing heat his body is overproducing. He doesn’t, can’t, reply to you, but you don’t need him to, the answer is written plain as day for all to see.

He’s panicking.

He’s spiraling downwards harshly and his anxiety is taking along with it the strong front that Sukuna has worked relentlessly to maintain. His own body is forcibly breaking down the walls he built not only to keep himself safe, but also his brothers.

His body is begging you for the help he’d never ask for, lest he suffer alone.

“It’s okay if you can’t,” you soothe, your voice low and gentle as he leans against your car. “Sit down in the back of my car,” you urge sternly, attempting to tug him towards the back door.

He forcefully pulls back out of your grip. “I’m not my fuckin’ kid brothers, don’t fucking treat me like them,” he hisses, fire swirling beneath the surface of his eyes. It’s a meager attempt to mask his distress.

You frown, unmoving as you contemplate how to help someone who doesn’t want your help. Someone who doesn’t want pity or sympathy, who wants only respect and nothing less.

It doesn’t matter how much respect for him you have when looking back at him he sees only sympathy in your eyes.

“Please, can we talk? It’s cold out here, just sit in the back of my-”

“For fuck’s sake, what the fuck is there to talk about?” He yells, whipping his hand through the air. He reels back, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “I can fucking handle things, stop sticking your nose in my damn business,” he hisses in a strained tone, rubbing at his chest in discomfort.

Your eyes trail down to watch the way he clutches at his shirt and pulls the collar from his neck as though it’s choking him, his lips slightly parted as he struggles to breathe. “Sukuna, I know you can handle things. Just listen to me, okay?” His eyes snap to you. “Have you had a panic attack before?”

“I’m not havin’ a fucking panic attack, christ, just- gimme some fuckin’ space,” he backs away from you, walking over to his apartment building’s exterior and rummaging through his jacket pockets in search of cigarettes. He pulls out a small cardboard box, flipping it open with shaky hands and muttering a curse under his breath as he comes up empty. He tosses it at full force into the building, leaning his head against the wall a moment later as his vision grows white at the edges.

“Sukuna,” your tone is firm as you come up behind him. “Please sit.”

By some miracle, he flips until his back can slide down the wall and he’s finally sitting, his gaze fixed nowhere in particular behind you.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you lower yourself down to your knees to sit in front of him. Thank god. Even as the cold snow melts beneath you and seeps into the warmth of your pants, chilling the skin of your knees, you push through. Setting your hands on his forearms, you rub soothing circles into them.

“Here, are your hands cold?” Sliding the tips of your fingers along his arm and raising goosebumps with your touch even through the barrier of his jacket, you gauge the temperature of his hands, nodding to yourself. “They are cold… here-” you lift his hand up to cool the back of his neck, which is overheating even in the below freezing weather. “I think that should feel good.”

It shouldn’t piss him off as much as it does that you’re right. It does help, leaving him completely at your mercy, as Sukuna himself doesn’t understand how to quell this feeling.

“Breathe with me, okay?”

He doesn’t react, but his crimson gaze falls to your chest, studying the rise and fall. You direct him by repeating a gentle “in… and out,” moving your thumb along his arm in time with your own breaths and instructions. He closes his eyes as the pain in his chest eases and he’s able to catch his breath.

Continuing to soothingly run your thumb along his arm, you carefully reach up to brush his sweat-slicked hair from his forehead. He stiffens briefly, but quickly relaxes without bothering to open his eyes.

Your heart twists at the intimacy of the situation, but it’s neither the time nor place to concern yourself with your own emotions.

You can handle the way your own chest tightens as Sukuna’s finger twitches and brushes your wrist, settling against the warmth of your skin.

You don’t dare interrupt the peace, giving him the time he needs to find his grounding. It takes him a few moments, but he moves his hand from the back of his neck, settling it on his knee. His gaze fixes on something in the distance as he takes a long, exhausted breath.

To your surprise, his arm that you’re still rubbing circles into flips and his thumb and fingers wrap around the circumference of your forearm. With a lopsided smile, you squeeze his arm back.

“Talk to me.”

With the sun completely set over the horizon, the only light that illuminates Sukuna’s face is that of the light over his apartment building. It glows faintly, flickering every so often with a golden hue that paints the broken expression on his face in such a way that even in this dire situation, he looks ethereal.

His gaze travels upwards as the light flickers again, the golden hue glimmering against the packed snow beneath your (very cold) knees. “I can’t afford a lawyer,” he mutters shamefully, his brow furrowed.

You contemplate your next words very carefully given Sukuna’s nature. “What can I do?” To help?

“Nothing,” he scoffs, his eyes not leaving the point where his hand connects with your arm. Even with a jacket between you, your presence brings him comfort. “I’ll figure shit out like I always do.”

“You don’t need to do this alone, Kuna.”

The glare he shoots you is sharp. “I can manage.”

“Manage until- until what? You have another panic attack?” Although your tone is still gentle, there’s a prickle to your words.

“I didn’t have a fuckin’-”

“Bullshit!”

Sukuna blinks. He can’t remember if he’s ever heard a curse leave your lips. There’s a fiery determination lit beneath you that he won’t quench with his distilled anger.

“You’re allowed to need help, Sukuna. It doesn’t make you weak.”

His grip on your arm tightens, almost uncomfortably. He doesn’t know how to take your words and his vexation is only growing. “I’ll need to take more shifts,” he mumbles.

“I’m here. If you need someone to watch the kids,” you offer.

His chest rises and falls heavily as he exhales slowly. As if coming to some sort of conclusion, he frowns. “You’re too kind, princess.” His tone is uncharacteristically weak and painfully distant. He squeezes your arm once, before dropping it to pull himself up off the ground. He brushes snow from his pants and coat and picks up the empty cigarette box crumpled on the ground. “I’m gonna head inside.” His gaze turns down to your knees as you follow suit and stand before him. “Go warm up and dry off.”

“Are you sure you don’t need-”

“I’m fine.” He assures you, turning towards the door without so much as a goodbye, but he thinks twice on this and pauses before he can enter his building. He examines your frown as he fights an internal debate. His sharp gaze traces your movements as you swipe your tongue over your lower lip and bite down on it.

He’s caught up on a strange inkling in his mind that doesn’t really make sense to him, but he gives pause to it.

Your lips look like a goddamn invitation. He’s not thinking about your body, or the way your skin sears him when you brush his hand. It’s something entirely else that he wants to act on, and all you’re doing is standing there, the picture of uncertainty as you fiddle with your fingers and chew on your lips.

Your god forsaken lips.

“Sukuna?” You meekly question, tilting your head.

He swears you could have the world if you truly wanted with just a tilt of your head.

It’s a shame Sukuna knows he doesn’t belong in your world. You’re too kind, you always have been. You’re like the syrup they drizzle over cheesecake, or the decorative sprinkles that top that shitty whipped cream that bakeries love to use. The sugar-free kind that doesn’t quite taste right and you’re not sure why they even bother with it, so they add the sweetest sprinkles to compensate.

Once again, Sukuna thinks about how you’re the sun, and he’s nothing more than a distant star sputtering out on the horizon. He doesn’t consider that every star is a sun to someone else.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Was just thinkin’. Thanks for organizing today, gave me a lot to work with.”

And with that, he’s pushing through the door before you can even tell him that he’s welcome.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

❦ a/n ; OOPS ALMOST 18K CHAPTER. honestly it just didn't feel right to end it before the discussion with higuruma and sukuna's reaction to it, so here we are. forgive me for the angst :((( i love these babies sm and it physically hurt to put them through this 😭 the support for this series has been so overwhelmingly lovely and heartwarming, i really can't thank you all enough. seriously, y'all are the sweetest and the comments and asks i've received about this series brighten my day every single time 🫶 anyway, ily all and i'm sorry 😭

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

@yenayaps @rinachains @aiicpansion @fushitoru @gojoscumslut

@hellish4ever @kasukuna @theonlyhonoredone @catobsessedlady @timetoletmyimaginationfly

@clp-84 @coffee-and-geto @candyluvsboba @favvkiki @gojodickbig

@spindyl @ohmykwonsoonyoung @kyo-kyo1 @officialholyagua @coldluminarykoala

@ieathairs @cinnamxnangel @nessca153 @aerareads @after-laughter-come-tears

@tillaboo @thepassionatereader @erencvlt @v1sque @a-girl-with-thoughts

@lauuriiiz @blueemochii @paradisestarfishh @erenxh @call-me-doll8811

@toulouse365 @dabieater @janrcrosssing @satsattoru @moonchhu

@privthemis @captainsarcasmandsass @ryomeowie @vitoshi @kunasthiast

@axxk17 @toratsue @bluestbleu @yuji-itadori-fave @totallygyomeiswife

writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

[quivm]

— Miles Morales' future.

Earth 42 Miles Morales x gn reader light light angst (?). minors can interact! major spoilers for across the spiderverse. ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

wc: 1.2k

genre + warnings:

very light angst if it even is idk who to describe it. extreme possessiveness (yandere), implied manipulation, implied death, kidnapping, being followed, gn reader but feminine pet names are used

notes!! i saw @ichangedmycornyahhname work of 42 Miles and got so inspired i was so happy. i watched ATSV the day it came out and saw 42 Miles was working in alchemax when they looked at where the spider came from so 42 Miles is really smart and my brain went smart villain = dangerous / manipulative with his intelligence ?? i love this headcannon so part 2 or other ff with this hc is definitely pending o(≧▽≦)o

Your steps hastened, desperate to reach the end of the alleyway. Your unbridled heartbeat raged as the echoes of the rapid steps behind you increased. The dread and unease of the situation washed over your body as you came to the reality of the situation - you were being followed.

Anxiety at the forefront of the many emotions bubbling up worsened your ability to keep a level head. Realistically, your capture was unlikely. The claim Miles had on you was well known throughout the criminal world as an unspoken rule. Never touch any hair on your head. An immense help in day to day life in the overpoliced and crime riddled city of New York but you didnt know that.

This time though it seemed that unspoken immunity ran out, seeing as you were targeted after closing up shop and walking home. Words could not describe the terror that fell into your stomach as an icy hand lurched forward subduing you.

“Where are you going pretty? You have a nice bag, huh.”

This was it. Your end would not be in action or helping people. No, your deeming end was going to be by a group of thoughtless thugs way over their heads. When a frosty cloth was pressed against your nose it reaffirmed your thoughts. This was your deathbed.

____

A dreary house was the first sight you saw as you gained consciousness. The organised but messy state made it abundantly clear to you someone was in constant use of it, although it was not welcoming or homey. Fires and mayhem in the skyline gleamed in the window, a bittersweet view. Sadden because that was your life forever unless you leave NYC- which you could never afford but reassuring in the fact that you were still in Brooklyn as harrowing as it is.

Times like this made you resent Brooklyn, there was no one to help. The police had more problems than officers, criminals were rampant and encouraged. The city felt empty, everyone was on their own to see the next day. Community was fragile and easy to shatter into a moment of the past.

Fright jolted up your spine. The heavy steps clanged toward the door. Even though you were not tied up it was a matter of time. Maybe the men would let you go? Maybe they were here to tie you up? Racing through your mind all sort of nonsense was thought about, until the step stopped right outside the door. The door creaked open, on its last leg.

The illuminating light from the hallway and window shone on you. Survival was the only thought on your mind, though fleeting and hopeless. It seemed only achievable through pretending to be asleep. Your motionless body layed frigid, shallow breaths was all that seemed manageable as the heavy boot came to a stop right infornt of you.

“I know you're awake.”

The short and sweet statement shook your world. Fear paralysing you as you reacted by trembling inconsolably as you cracked open your eyes. The dizzying onslaught of purple welcomed you as you looked at your kidnapper. Horror consumed your soul. It was the prowler. Contradicting previous thoughts, you knew you were over your head.

Before the tears pooled in your eyes could drop, as well as your pride as you were getting ready to beg for mercy, another statement from the masked man was made in the same chilling voice although this time laced with amusement.

“Calm down princesa it’s me.”

The sound of the mask slowly unveiling the man underneath echoed throughout the room. Confusion bloomed in your mind. Everything you knew blown out the window leaving only fright and shock.

“Miles?”

Your rough around the edges, attentive boyfriend who treated you with the utmost respect was the prowler? The prowler who everyone in NYC knew. The man with no enemies as he took them all out. The man who created New York into the shit hole it was today was your Miles? The universe must hate you and everything you stand for because worthwise why would it play the shitest card it has on you.

You knew Miles was on the streets doing crime, he told you when the relationship got serious. As concerning as it was you knew you couldn’t stop it and tried to help him any way you could to make sure he got home safe. But you never expected he wasn’t just on the crime scene he ran it for the whole of New York. That changes everything.

“Mi vida, I know this is a shock-”.

“No! This is more than a shock Miles!”

Everything your relationship was built on was slowly chipping away. You both shared the most vulnerable intimate parts of your lifes, you thought you knew him. But he was practically a stranger. A second life untouched and hidden away which made him who he was today. This wasn’t something that could be blown over. With more confidence and left over adrenaline you stood up next to him.

“Why am I here Miles?”

This large reveal couldn’t take your mind off last night's events. You were kidnapped by a group of men and then you suddenly woke up here with Miles. Did that mean Miles ordered it? He could have come to see you though. None of it made sense and you needed clarity.

“Last night you were touched by some low lives. That's unacceptable princessa. I went over with Uncle Aaron and took care of them, don’t worry you're safe now.”

The gentle caressing of his hand on your cheek which would have been comforting in any other context wafted the smell of iron to your nose and felt inexplicably cold on your cheek. You knew what being ‘taken care of’ mean’t, you caused deaths. You were Miles’ and he was a possessive man, no one could touch you without facing the consequences. Your ability to walk downtown and come out unscathed made sense; you weren’t lucky you were a death warrant.

“Mi vida you are mine and no one could take you from me. Comprendido?”

Reality sunk in. You weren’t only Miles' partner, you were his future. He loved you, you were his lifeline to sanity after his Father died and he had shoulder the responsibilities of the family. The only semblance to normality and happiness in his life other than the close circle of loved ones that were Uncle Aaron and his Mother. And that circle only had one more space for you. He would never let go of you, he viewed you as an extension of himself. There was no where you could escape too, he owns NYC any manhunt he orders would end quickly. People feared his power and strength but laid dead from his intelligence and foresight.

There was nowhere you could run except into his arms.

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Currently Watching - September

aka The Masterlist

Because I love a good little list - in alphabetical order! 😊

Regularly updated during the month, latest update 25.09.2024

A little link to my favorite bl-tropes-collection 💙

gif-requests are open, but you'll need to have some patience🌼

Here you can find all of my gifs.

At the end you can have a look at what we can expect in September with a MDL link and a link for a trailer (if avaible).

This is guaranteed to contain spoilers!

1. First Note of Love 🇹🇼 (8/12)

I need them all to communicate more. Not about each other but with each other. And really listen to the other one. Most of the episode was the side couple and one discuss why he thinks they would never work out and the other one tries to tell him why he thinks they could make it work. At least they're talking.

2. I Saw You In My Dream 🇹🇭 (11/12)

I love these two together. They just work and are cute and you can feel the love between them. Yu is a really perfect first boyfriend. He doesn't push and just accepts Ai as he is. I enjoy their relationship so much. And now I am really curious what will happen in the last episode.

3. Jack & Joker: U steal my heart! 🇹🇭 (3/12)

I could watch War looking at this ring for an entire episode and I wouldn't be bored. He really nailed this episode with his many personas he played. He is indeed a good actor and such a pretty one too. And I was screaming, when Jack gave the ring to Joker and let him get away. And next week we get some redemption work. Can't wait!

4. Kidnap 🇹🇭 (4/12)

These two are so cute. I know shit is going down soon, but until then I enjoy those two flirting with each other to the max. Min is already so smitten by Q and Q is realising, his feelings are a little bit more than just friends. I really like it.

5. Word of Honor 🇨🇳 (20/36)

Do you still believe I'll come back to this one? It is a really good series, but I can't motivate myself to dive into it right now 🙈

Finished in September

Series

Takara no Vidro 🇯🇵

We had our final today and I loved it! The fact both of them missed each other and communicated this. Taishin likes it when Takara opens up to him, because it makes him feel special and closer to him. And I get that. Takara is a person who doesn't talk much about himself, but who has so much anxiety and Taishin wants to share those burdens, because they are equal, because he wants to take care of Takara too. I started this series without any expectations and with mixed feelings, but it slowly became one of the gems of the week and I was so looking forward to this final episode! A really good 9 out of 10.

4 Minutes 🇹🇭

This was something else. You really have to pay attention to get this story. I like series with a not that sugar-coated ending and we definiteky got this with 4 Minutes. Not everyone got their happy ending. Even though Great and Tyme got their happy ending together, not everything was good here. That was kinda realistic in such a mystery series. But I must admit, I really liked Korn and Tonkla's ending. It was best for their story. I said what I said. This gets a good 9 out of 10.

Hidamari ga Kikoeru 🇯🇵

This series... I loved it with all my heart for the first half. And then I just got angry with it for multiple reasons. It is so hard for me to give this a rating. Damn. I bought the mangas because of this series and I read the first ones. The problem is, the story is really complex and that works for mangas and novels pretty well, because it gives the characters depth and well, a character. But it doesn't work like that in a series. Too many subplots take away the growth of the main characters. And if you throw in a new character in the middle of the show, don't make them that unlikable like Maya. She is way more likable in the manga. For me, the second half just doesn't work and it felt incoherent with the character development. They tried to stay too true to the source material. I wished I could love this series from beginning to end, but I couldn't. Overall I give it a 6,5 out of 10.

Seoul Blues 🇰🇷

I didn't like this one that much. Yes, they had good chemistry, but this whole cheating and evil ex plot was not for me. I don't know why. Usually I don't mind cheating plots and find them kinda entertaining, but here it was not that good. I give it a 6,5 out of 10.

The Trainee 🇹🇭

Fun thing, even though this was a slow burn and we got a bunch of side stories, I really enjoyed this series! It was funny and entertaining and showed a good character growth for all its characters. That is something we don't get that often in a series. Nothing felt like a side story. They were all important for the plot as for the company. And Jane and Ryan are just cute and precious. I give this one a 9 out of 10.

Happy of the End 🇯🇵

We got our happy ending. And a time jump, but I think it worked really well with this series. Because Haoran needed the distance to Chihiro. He needed to understand that he isn't the bad guy in the story and that Chihiro was truely happy with him. He needed to heal for his own sake and on his own. I really liked the series, even though it is one of the series with the most trigger-warnings. I am just happy to see them happy in the end, after all they've been through. A strong 9 out of 10 for me.

The On1y One 🇹🇼

This series gave me everything. A warm feeling in my cold heart. Butterflies in my stomach. A good laugh. Some tears. And a bunch of heartbreaks! Damn! This was such a good ride! Those two, Tian and Wang, are soon to be step-brothers and they're in love with each other. Tien knew this since the first time he saw Wang and we could whitness Wang slowly recognising his feelings for Tian. And we didn't get a happy ending. If you will, this is an open end, but there is no working through these feelings. We just end as devastated as Tian, because Wang has built up his emotional walls again to keep distance to Tian. Because they're will be brothers and that means they can't be lovers. This hurts so bad and good at the same time! And the acting is superb! I love this series so much! A 10 out of 10 for me.

Movie

Short Film

Dropped in September

Cityboy_Log 4.2 🇰🇷

This is too confusing for me. I don't get the episodes or the seasons and definitely not the plot. They are all friends and the whole cheating part from last season is just forgotten. I guess I will look into it from time to time, but for now, I drop it.

Looking forward to in September

Live in Love - Trailer (Sep 1st)

Happy of the End (Sep 3th)

Kidnap - Trailer (Sep 6th)

The Hidden Moon - Trailer (Sep 7th)

Jack and Joker - Trailer (Sep 9th)

Unlock your Love - Trailer (Sep 11th)

The Time of Fever - Trailer (Sep 12th)

Love Sick - Trailer (Sep 14th)

Bad Guy my Boss - Teaser (Sep 15th)

Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Sep 17th)

Chaser Game W2: Utsukushiki Tennyotachi (Sep 20th)

Uncle Unknown (Sep 20th ?)

[theemporium]

Girl you write Daniel SO well😍 I’ve been thinking about him x sunshine. She’s really freaked out on race day (like hyperventilating) and won’t get in the car but Daniel calms her down

aww thank you!!����I don’t know if I made it clear but sunshine is an engineer not a driver, but I’ve kept vibes of the request so I hope you enjoy!! And thank you for requesting!!🖤

masterlist

.

It was a dream. 

A stupid, highly realistic dream that had the unfortunate possibility of becoming a reality in the world of Formula One and Motorsports. 

You weren’t sure what exactly started the dreams, or why the thought was suddenly in your head. But it started in between race weekends, when you were in England to work on the cars with the other engineers in the factory. Daniel hadn’t come with, instead using the small break between races to return to his home in Monaco before he joined the rest of the team.

The first night you had the dream, it felt so realistic that you ended up phoning Daniel at three in the morning, desperate to hear his voice and assure he is okay. He had asked you what was wrong and you simply told him you missed him. 

To which he simply replied, “I miss you too, sunshine, can’t wait to kiss your face”.

But then three days later, you found yourself pressed against your headboard, chest heaving like your lungs were fighting for air and the sheets feeling tacky against your sweaty skin, but you didn’t have the heart to wake Daniel in the middle of the night again. Instead, you laid there, fighting the urge to fall back asleep in case the same, twisted dream returned to you.

It wasn’t a dream though. It was a fucking nightmare. It was filled with high speeds, big crashes, smoke, blood and everything else that was unsettling in a Formula One scene. Sometimes you would wake up shaking, sometimes you would wake up crying.

Either way, you never felt truly settled until you heard his voice. And even then, you still found yourself fighting the pit of anxiety in your stomach whenever you crawled into bed at night. It was taking a toll on you and you knew that, but you didn’t have the heart to tell Daniel.

But he knew. 

The boy could read you like the back of his hand and he knew something was up with you when you reunited in the next racing country, when you clung onto him for five minutes like someone he hadn’t seen in years rather than just under two weeks. But he knew you wouldn’t tell him and he wasn’t going to push you. He was sure you would tell him in your own time. 

Then, the racing weekend started and suddenly, the images from the nightmares were lingering in the back of your mind. 

Each free practice session left you digging your nails into your palms. Qualifying had you almost passing out after each round, needing to have eyes on Daniel’s car every second he was out on the track. But then Sunday came around and everything felt far too much.

Daniel was in the garage, going over a few notes with the strategists and his race engineer when he noticed the way you were lingering by his side. He reached over, his hand intertwining with yours as he squeezed it three times, waiting for you to reciprocate. 

But you didn’t.

Daniel tried to hide his frown, tried to focus on the plans and data that was being told to him, but all he could focus on was you. It was minutes later when his race engineer slapped him on the back and told him to head out to the car to set up before lights out. He turned to you, prepared to kiss your lips before he slipped his balaclava and helmet on, only to see you weren’t smiling at him as usual.

You looked distressed, almost looking a bit shell shocked as though you had seen a ghost. Your grip on his hand was so tight, he was almost concerned you were going to break some bones. Your chest was starting to rise and fall much faster than it should have and he quickly noticed the tears welling in your eyes.

“Hey, hey,” his face dropped in concern, his hands instantly coming up to cup your face. “What’s wrong, sunshine? C’mon, speak to me.”

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you were struck with the twisted idea that maybe the dreams were a sign. “Don’t get in the car.”

His brows furrowed together. “What?” 

“Don’t get into the car,” you choked out as you pressed your palms against his chest, only to fist the material in your hands like you were scared he would disappear. “You…I can’t…you…what if…”

“Shhh, deep breaths f’me, sunshine,” he murmured as he tilted your head up slightly so your eyes caught his. “C’mon, copy me. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out.”

Your breaths were shaky and ragged but Daniel didn’t stop. He was vaguely aware of people in the garage watching you both, probably wondering why he wasn’t heading out to the track. But he didn’t care about them, he didn’t care if the FIA fined him. His focus was on you.

“That’s it,” he praised softly, his thumbs running over the apples of your cheeks to wipe away any stray tears that fell. “That’s my girl.”

Your heart was still thundering in your chest as you looked up at him. “I don’t wanna lose you, Danny.” 

He gave you a soft smile. “You’re not gonna lose me, baby.”

You shook your head. “You don’t know what could happen—”

“You’re right, I don’t know. But I know that I wanna come back to you after every race,” he told you, his words soft though his eyes held his sincerity. “And I will do my damn best to do it every single time.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” he smiled and leaned down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the touch. 

“Here’s what is gonna happen,” he murmured as he pulled away, just enough for his nose to brush against yours. “I’m gonna go out there and fucking show the world the rocket ship my girl has made for me—”

You snorted lightly.

“—and then I’m gonna come back, we are gonna get some takeaway after the race and watch that vampire movie you love,” Daniel finished, the tightness in his chest easing when he saw you smile a little. 

“It’s not any vampire movie, Danny, it’s twilight,” you huffed.

“Sorry, sunshine,” Daniel grinned before finally pressing his lips against yours. “Do we have a deal?” 

“Deal,” you replied, the words spoken against his lips.

“Good,” he grinned as he finally pulled back, grabbing his helmet and balaclava before he started walking backwards out of the garage. “Tell Christian to give you a radio! I wanna talk to you during a race!”

“You’re not allowed to,” you said, shaking your head.

But he just grinned widely, spreading his arms out. “I’m a rule breaker, sunshine!” 

And you could only laugh as you watched him race off, the uneasiness in your stomach still there but something about it felt lighter knowing that Daniel meant the words he said. He wanted to come back to you and he will. 

Every single time.

.

[mypimpademia]

— Realistic Random Headcanons

Ft. Bakugo and Izuku

Synopsis: Random headcanons (general and romantic) for Bakugo and Izuku that I feel like make more sense based on their canon characters

TW: Swearing, topics of mental health (depression and anxiety nothing super dark though)

Note: Credit to @4kh for helping me with these :) btw these are just my personal interpretations of the characters and what I think makes sense following their canons instead of fanon (I also use their fanon personas a lot but again these are what I feel like would actually make more sense!)

— BAKUGO

⇶ Realistically, I feel like Katsuki would be aroace

⇶ At first, it comes off as him simply being too goal driven and motivated to make space in his life for romance

⇶ But truthfully, all his life he simply never related to how his peers would trip over their feet because of a crush

⇶ Sure, he found people pretty or handsome, but he could never find it in him to become even the slightest bit romantically invested

⇶ He tried to, just to feel what others around him felt for even a moment, but It never worked

⇶ At first, he chopped it up to simply not finding the right person. But as he got older and as he went through high school still never having any sort of attraction to anyone, he accepted that romantic attraction was simply something he wasn’t into

⇶ Struggles with depression and anxiety

⇶ It all started when he got to UA. Constantly having your life under threat, feeling like you ended the career of your idol, not feeling good enough, and more, take a toll on you.

⇶ Katsuki’s depression is not at all visible, you have to really know him to tell. He puts on a tough guy act and does what he needs to do, but he feels like a zombie

⇶ He’d much rather rot away in bed most days than even think about training, but he knows it’ll do him no good

⇶ Since he grew up with people always telling him how strong he is, he tries to gaslight himself into thinking he’s not depressed. He knows he is, but as long as he’s going about life like all is good and well, he’s not (to him at least)

⇶ His anxiety stems from getting kidnapped and having his life personally threatened on multiple occasions from such a young age

⇶ He’s always looking over his shoulder, afraid that someone is going to come out and make an attempt on his life

⇶ Katsuki would talk about it to someone, but he’s scared that getting too close to people would also put their lives in danger, and the thought of letting people know that he’s secretly weak physically pains him

⇶ As he gets older, he realizes how fucked up it all was that those things were happening to not just him, but his classmates as well. And yet, they were still expected to go back to class and act as of all was well after almost being killed not even 24 hours prior

⇶ Holds a lot of resentment towards Nezu and other higher ups, he wishes they would have at least put them through therapy after everything.

⇶ However, he doesn’t have any bad blood with Aizawa or All Might or any of his teachers over it because he understands that certain things were out of even their power, and that if they could’ve they would’ve. Some of them gave their lives protecting students, they shouldn’t be at blame

⇶ It’s not secret that Katsuki has an aggressive nature, but he is a very caring and compassionate person, and he tries to make an effort to show it even if it come off a bit harsh

⇶ Calls his friends dumb, extras, and says he hates them, but thankfully, many of them know that he doesn’t really mean it

⇶ And if they don’t know, they will eventually because his actions speak much louder than his words

⇶ Katsuki remembers birthdays, special events, always comes through when invited to things, gives thoughtful gifts, and more

⇶ He takes on all love languages (accept words of affirmation, that’ll take him some time) when giving affection towards others

⇶ The love language that takes all for him is physical touch

⇶ But unfortunately, he’s very adverse to being touched because of trauma, and only makes physical contact with family and close friends

⇶ When he does give an occasional hug, he makes it last and you’ll know it’s special (he gives really good hugs too)

⇶ It seems far fetched, but Katsuki actually doesn’t like to yell

⇶ Yes, he yells a lot, a majority of the time in fact

⇶ But it’s always over really dumb or unnecessary things, and that’s the entire point.

⇶ When Katsuki is serious about something, or genuinely angry, he hardly even raises his voice

⇶ He’s smarter than that, and knows it’ll only aggravate the situation

⇶ Very self aware, and because of that, he knows he can have a temper! Always takes a moment to himself when something upsets him, and then comes back later to talk about it properly so he can avoid blowing up at the other person

⇶ This is especially the case if it’s someone close to him, Katsuki would hate to damage a good relationship over something that can be resolved

⇶ If the other person keeps pressuring him as he’s trying to take time for himself, then yes, he will raise his voice. But it’s more firm than anything, and he does it to get them to give him space

⇶ If they keep pushing, or he just very in the heat of the moment, he will start yelling

⇶ Katsuki doesn’t like to go to bed angry either

⇶ Always make sure that his issue with someone else is resolved as quickly as possible, because if it’s not, it most likely never will be

⇶ If he’s in the wrong, he’ll acknowledges it and apologizes… in his own way

⇶ Normally, his apologies consist of him being overly attentive towards the person over the next few days until he feels like they aren’t upset with him anymore and he no longer feels guilty

⇶ On the surface level, Katsuki is your average arrogant, ambitious, hot head, but there’s a lot more to his simple facade

— MIDORIYA

⇶ Such a lover boy and hopeless romantic when it comes to relationships

⇶ Everyone knows he gets crushes easily, but a lot of them are just for the sake of slicing up his life, he doesn’t actually want a relationship with that person

⇶ Admires a lot of people from afar because of this, and he’ll gush over people he’s never even spoken a word to

⇶ It sounds corny, but he really doesn’t care about anything physically, he looks for personality

⇶ Sees no point in being attracted to someone just because they have a pretty face if their personality is awful

⇶ Likes people who kind of act like him, sweet, caring, motivated, a bit outgoing. and has similar interests

⇶ If you don’t act like him, he gravitates towards people who may contrast his personality too

⇶ You still have to be nice or at least have basic decency, but if you’re more reserved, and prefer to keep to yourself instead of being around people, he‘lil still like you

⇶ When Izuku is in a relationship, he’s a very good boyfriend

⇶ He’s attentive, always knowing what you need and what you like. He doesn’t forget dates, birthdays, or other important things

⇶ But he’ll need that energy in return or else he’ll lose interest in the relationship

⇶ Izuku has struggled with both depression and anxiety his entire life

⇶ He was always an anxious kid, and at first, Inko chopped it up to him just being a bit shy or having mood swings

⇶ But eventually, he was diagnosed with anxiety at a very very young age

⇶ It’s manageable, most days, thankfully, because his determination to do better for himself outweighs it

⇶ But his bad days are bad, to the point where they’re so debilitating that he can’t do anything but lay in bed all day in an attempt to be calm and not trigger an anxiety attack

⇶ Took medication for it at some point, but got really bad side effects from it and now chooses to just deal with it on his own

⇶ Izuku was diagnosed with depression a few years after he was diagnosed with anxiety

⇶ It developed shortly after his quirk didn’t develop, and he was being relentlessly bullied at school for being quirkless, and then coming home to see hero’s like All Might do great things while he was literally and figuratively powerless

⇶ His depression only got worse as he grew up and was still getting bullied for being quirkless

⇶ Somehow, Izuku doesn’t resent Bakugo or any of his bullies, and really doesn’t even think of them much as he gets older

⇶ For Bakugo, he doesn’t necessarily forgive him, but he learns to put it in the past for as long as Bakugo can acknowledge that what he did was wrong and can’t be taken back

⇶ As for his other bullies, he believes they’ll get whatever they deserve. He thinks they’re assholes, sure, but they were dumb kids at the time so he puts that behind him too

⇶ During the summer he spent training with All Might to inherit One For All, his mental health got better than he ever thought it would

⇶ Inko had no clue what was happening that entire time, but she could see a different light in her sons eyes and seeing him happy made her cry every night for the entire summer

⇶ Unfortunately, his mental health once again tanked when he was at UA due to all the villain attacks and the way his life was constantly being threatened more than anyone else’s

⇶ He was so exhausted all the time, and would have one or more anxiety attacks on a daily basis

⇶ Izuku is fairly emotional as is, even around others, but he keeps his deeper issues private and takes a moment to himself when even feels like he’s imploding

⇶ Wants to talk about it with someone, he really does, but he doesn’t even know where he’d begin and he doesn’t want to dump all that on anyone

⇶ Inko did put him through therapy as a kid, but he was in and out of it for various reasons, but the main one was money

⇶ Therapy is expensive, and Inko is a single mother. She put him through therapy when she could but there were times were she just couldn’t make it happen as badly as she wanted to get her son help

⇶ Once he got to UA and was very obviously doing much worse, she offered to start paying for therapy again and he completely refused

⇶ He’s always felt bad that she had to spend so much money trying to figure things out with him. Why he had no quirk, his depression, his anxiety, and therapy, he didn’t want her doing all that for him even though she felt obliged has his mother

⇶ At that point, Izuku felt like the responsibility landed on the school to make sure their students were being properly taken care of, mentally and physically, with everything they were going through during their time there

⇶ Doesn’t resent anyone for not doing anything, but he definitely wishes it was handled much better for the sake of everyone

⇶ But if you’re his s/o he will lean on you for support. He won’t tell you everything, because he doesn’t want to put all of that weight on you, but he will vent a little and cry to you

⇶ You can use him as a shoulder to lean on as well of course, and don’t think that you can’t come to him just because he’s dealing with his own things. If anything, it makes him feel better that you trust him enough to support you when you’re vulnerable

⇶ Izuku is a giver.

⇶ He gives, gives, gives, and gives without thinking about himself

⇶ Loves to give his friends little gifts, always coming back from the store with their favorite snack because he saw it on the shelf or a trinket that reminded him of them

⇶ Because he pays so much attention to detail, his gifts are always good

⇶ Insanely good at birthday gifts, if you ever don’t know what to get someone he’s the one you need to call

⇶ He will never get you a gift you don’t like, and if he somehow does, he’ll immediately replace it with w something you do like

⇶ Won’t even get the metal of your jewelry wrong, who do you think he is?

⇶ If you’re his s/o, you’ll be spoiled to death

⇶ He always pays for everything and never even lets you worry about how much it is

⇶ If you ever find out the price of something he bought you, and proceed to ask why he spent so much money on you, he’ll get upset and ask why you don’t want him spending money on you especially if it’s by choice

⇶ Gift giving and acts of service are his main love languages, so he gets very offended if you question him. It’s like asking if he even loves you, and he loves you to death.

⇶ On the other hand, Izuku gets very uncomfortable when people spend any amount of money on him or do things for him

⇶ Doesn’t even like to get birthday gifts or have people throw him parties, because he knows that means people will be spending money on him

⇶ It comes from growing up with a single mother who made just enough for them to live a decent life, he’ll always appreciate the gesture, but it will never not make him uncomfortable.

⇶ This is especially the case if you’re dating him. His birthday and holidays are the only time you’re allowed to spend your money on him, and even then you can’t spend an excessive amount

⇶ Izuku WILL get angry if you do, he won’t yell at you or anything, but he’ll huff about how you shouldn’t waste your money on him for the rest of the day

⇶ Izuku is a sweet boy, really. But as bubbly as he is even he needs someone to depend on, and in turn he’ll give you his all

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @romiantic @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @gender-queery @roaringlion @chocolateochaco @tatiquichi @kxtsxkii

Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated! Follow for more!

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

He's still stuck in the Dunlap mud -he's not the only one-

The key here is: GUILT.

I decoded her name → here but not the last name bc Storer never made a statement of it, but @ago0112 saw right through that zodiac killer move of his and did a great job decoding Dr Dunlap's last name → here. And this is important because Storer named Claire that way because he knew all along that at some point in the story he WAS GONNA GET CARMY STUCK IN THE MUD. That moment was S3, due to his guilt, after he blamed himself for this:

That's why he can't make himself apologize to her, because he doesn't wanna face his guilt and responsibility and just say he is sorry and move on, he's stuck there. Obviously, he wishes things would have been different but he knows oh too well what he thought about in that walk-in

And he knew what decision he made and then he did follow through with it. Steadfastedly, actually.

He cut her off

But he is mentally stuck in her mud because he chose to evade and never have that final closure conversation with her, not only because that would make it REAL, but also because even though since the panic attack he kinda knows what he feels and for whom, HE DOESN'T WANNA FEEL IT, he wishes he could feel that way for Claire. And he feels sorry and guilty because he knows better. He is avoiding and evading, as usual, but he knows, he's not stupid. If he doesn't give Claire closure, he might still have a chance with her in the future. If he completely shuts that down with an apology and an adult break up, Claire will move on and he will be left feeling something he doesn't wanna feel for his business partner, and he also feels guilty about that because he feels he keeps failing her. He doesn't wanna be hard to keep up with.

He's sorry and feels guilty about that too but he's STUCK, he can't do anything about it. Totally realistic scenario BTW.

He keeps not choosing Claire

But he's stuck in her mud. It's clear he doesn't wanna get back together with her. But he doesn't wanna give her closure either. Either of those things will force him to face precisely what he's trying to avoid.

Until he's not the star bearer for Syd, he won't let himself feel what he already knows deep inside he feels for her.

If it's not perfect, it doesn't go out.

Bonus track: Syd willingly stuck in her own walk-in closet this season is the most fucked up mirroring I ever saw but it's actually a great sign because she needed her Eureka moment as well. The only reason it happened in a panic-attack way -which by the way she had been having for at least since Sheridan catering blew up in her face, not because of Carmy, although Psycho Carmy contributed this time around- is because she BOTTLES UP FEELINGS AND LEAVES THINGS UNSAID, just like Carmy. She not only avoids what she's starting to realize that she actually feels for her business partner too but also now feels GUILTY for wanting to leave after all they went through together, after all that history that she remembered right before the attack, which was triggered by those memories.

Those avoiding ways always end up in panic attacks, anxiety, etc. Let's not blame the people, let's focus on the people's behaviors and see in what way they are "causes" and when are they actually "consequences" instead. That's how we can really see the whole pic. In her case, the panic attack is a consequence of her own bottled-up feelings and avoidant nature, just like in Carm's case. And they both need to do what they are trying to avoid to get unstuck → Not be beggars to language any longer.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[eddiediazismyhusband]

That's a good point about it being the official account, not personal. I guess what gives me some sense of optimism is how happy they both look? Like even though they're both actors, Oliver especially is not great at hiding his true feelings sometimes while still being professional (see: that one interview with l*u) So if they were being forced into this, knowing that it was pure 100% bait with nothing good possibly coming for buddie this season (as you mentioned, things can change. but at least to start) I just don't know if either of them would look as smiley and carefree as they do.

But I also agree with you that we as fans often lose sight of the bigger picture of this still being a job and a business. We've seen cast members (*cough* Oliver, again) express displeasure with certain storylines in the past but at the end of the day it's their job to act, promote, and do certain things whether it's what they'd want or not. Fox before and ABC now want to get as much hype, hits, and eyeballs for the show to have success. Of course we love this kind of content, and in our minds it makes complete sense for certain roads to lead to certain ends but that can blind us at the same time.

I also want to say I appreciate you being so rational and honest with your concerns and being a space whether others can voice theirs

my view on the oliver thing is that that’s just how he is around ryan… the two of them cannot stop being little giggling blushing messes around each other (….take that for what you will….)

i also think the video was such a general “we’re back for season 8” and ryan decided to jump in and photobomb, and oliver probably assumed that that take wouldn’t be used (bc having worked in social media for productions before, those videos also have several takes that are examined by someone else before approval) so oliver most likely didn’t know if they would use this specific video or not— and so he and ryan were just being the goofballs they are

and don’t get me wrong i LOVE ryan and oliver content… when its being posted by themselves. its when the 911 instagram, the sole purpose of which is to draw attention for the show, uses them as this pretty thing to bring in likes and comments. so i dont believe they were as much being “forced” as much as i feel like it was a situation where oliver was told to film a promo video, ryan jumped in and they goofed off, assuming it probably wouldn’t be used (and also since it was such a general video not thinking about the buddie connotations) and a producer or someone else was like “this will get people talking” and it just went down the line and snowballed into yet snother talking point… which is exactly what they (the production) want it to be.

I really don’t like coming across as a debbie downer or someone who is constantly complaining about the show, but my anxiety prevents me from being able to healthily engage in speculation and (what may be fun for other people) delulu activity, and i kinda wanna be a place, like you said, where people can feel free to soundboard their own concerns about the show without fear of being told “YOURE WRONG BC I FEEL LIKE WE ARE CLOSER THAN EVER” like a lot of bigger blogs tend to do… i like to try and keep my expectations low and realistic (esp after not doing so last season, snd sesing how much mental stress it put me under) and i want to be able to be an outlet for people whose brains also work like that

now i don’t say this with the intent to yuck people’s yum and say you CANT have fun w spec and being delulu, but unfortunately a lot of bigger blogs get trigger happy and act like their delulu is 100% gospel truth what’s going to happen and it just sets up people for disappointment, and while for a lot of people that disappointment is nothing more than a “oh fuck not again… oh well” for some of us out brains process it differently and it creates a sense of dread and upset and i don’t want to be that person. i still have those moments where my brain wants to slip into delulu land, but i let myself do that so much last season to my own detriment that i am trying to remain much more pessimistic and cautious this time around, bc i have found that lower expectations usually yeild better (or more easily digested) results.

thank you for the ask/discussion, anon and im sorry for kinda hijacking your ask to make a post about the relationship between fandom activity and mental health but you kinda provided a clear stage and my yapping capabilities took over for a second 💀💀

[shxtodxroki]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙼𝚎!

Summary: Saeyoung manages to convince you to join him in going through a haunted corn maze during the Halloween season. Then, as if the attraction itself isn’t spooky enough for you, he decides to prank you a bit and give you a fright of his own making as well.

Flufftober Day 6 Prompt: Corn Maze

Warnings: Swearing, reader playfully smacks Saeyoung once (not hard at all), reader is described as scared of a haunted corn maze attraction

Pairing: 707 (Saeyoung Choi) x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Check out my full Flufftober masterlist here!

Your hands tremble slightly in your boyfriend’s strong hold, hoping he doesn’t notice the sweatiness of your palms as you stare at the slowly shortening line in front of you. And even if he does, you reason that it’s all his fault for bringing you here in the first place, his adorable begging face just too persuasive for you to resist. So really, it’s his fault entirely that he's in this position now, and he doesn’t get to complain about how nervous you are now when he was the one who brought you here in the first place.

“See babe?! Listen to the sound of those screams!” Saeyoung turns to you excitedly as distant screams echo from the corn maze attraction in front of you, his face lighting up while your blood runs cold in comparison. “This is one of the best Halloween attractions in the whole city, it’s gonna be a blast!”

You wish you could share your boyfriend’s clear eagerness and excitement with him, you really do. You know that you’ll ultimately be able to handle the attraction even if you are scared, and you’ll probably come out of it happy that you went in the end. But right now, as you slowly inch closer and closer to the front of the line and entrance to the attraction, the anxiety emanating off of your body is palpable to all around you as you squeeze his warm hand tightly in your own to help ground your fretting mind.

“...Hey, no need to be so nervous, babe.” Saeyoung continues in a slightly softer voice when you don’t respond, noticing how tense you are. “I told you, I’m right here. I used to be a big scary hacker, so I’ve seen way worse than whatever this place has in store for us. I’ll protect you, I promise.” He grins, squeezing your hand back as he teases you to try and lighten up your mood. You instantly lean into his touch, wrapping your hands around his arm and holding him close as the two of you take one step further, only about five spaces away from the front of the line now. 

“Y-yeah, okay…” You nod, your voice a bit shaky as you press yourself into him. He laughs as you bring him closer and closer to you, though he doesn’t object in the slightest, always one to enjoy physical touch with his lover. 

Realistically, you know you have no reason to be this nervous. Most of the stress is coming from the fact that this is your first time at this attraction, so you have no clue what to expect or just how frightening the scares will be. And the actors aren’t allowed to touch you at all, that much Saeyoung made sure of beforehand to ensure that your personal boundaries wouldn’t be crossed. But there was still a sea of unknown variables swimming within the haunted corn maze, and because of that, you were unable to hold back the jitters throughout your body as you clung to your boyfriend as a lifeline.

A mere ten minutes later, after listening to Saeyong’s various attempts to take your mind off of the scares you know are near in your future, you find yourself at the front of the line as you practically shake in your winter shoes and wait for the attendant at the entrance to let you into the maze. It’s big, meaning that once you go in there, you have no clue how long you’ll be lost amongst the stalks as you try to find your way out. With scares around every corner, of course. You can’t seem to make yourself forget about that part, no matter how hard you try.

“Alright, you two are all set to head in! Have fun!” The attendant’s smile is bright and friendly in contrast to your pitiful, wobbly one, and Saeyoung squeezes your hand tightly once more as he leads the way into the maze. 

“Let me be in front, babe. They can scare me first, I don’t care. Just try not to act too scared if you can, or they’ll go extra hard on you.” His willingness to go ahead of you, to protect you from danger even when it’s only imaginary, makes your heart beat just a tad faster, and calms you down the slightest bit as your feet hesitantly lead you behind him into the maze of nightmares you had been dreading all evening.

As expected, the first scare actor of the evening meets you two with an equally theatrical and sinister grin the second you turn a corner, instantly meeting a dead end and sinking your faith in your boyfriend’s navigation abilities very early on in this adventure. The actor, dressed as a zombie with a pitchfork, sneakily drew all too close to you as Saeyoung tried to block you from his sight. He didn’t say much after his initial startling shriek, simply leering at the two of you as you backed away to go down another route in the labyrinth the two of you had (somewhat) willingly walked into.

Saeyoung seems to be at least a bit luckier this time in his choice of a new route, hastily pulling you through a long stretch that thankfully doesn’t end the moment it begins. The walk still isn’t barren of the advertised frights though, as two girls dressed in similar zombie attire pop out from within the walls lined with corn, giggling and shrieking at the two of you as you squeeze on to your boyfriend for dear life. Even as your heart rate picks up and your anxiety levels spike, though, your mind easily recognizes that you’re not truly in danger as Saeyoung attempts to make quick, friendly conversation with the girls before rushing off towards the next corner of the maze. You’re quickly beginning to realize that this isn’t quite so bad, and that being scared in an environment like this where you know nothing is real can actually be quite fun.

Saeyoung notices the slow change in your attitude as the two of you make your way through several twists and turns within the maze, though he doesn’t say anything about it at first. He merely smiles to himself as he feels the way you squeeze onto his bicep less and less each time another actor pops out from some hidden location to give you a scare, and he feels his heart swell a bit when you even begin to tease him with a grin of your own for constantly leading the two of you to dead ends and begin to make a few of the choices on where to turn for yourself.

This change of heart of yours also leads Saeyoung to a rather sneaky decision, though. Now that you seem more at ease with the frights this corn maze offers, and seem to have fun with the prospect of being scared, he can’t help but want to do a little scaring of his own as a plan quickly begins to hatch in his overworked brain, firing on all cylinders for such a simple task.

It takes a while for him to put his plan into action, as he waits for you to take charge once more and attempt to lead him around another corner after too many dead ends on his accord. A distant scream from another far-off patron of the maze eventually manages to momentarily distract you, as Saeyoung pretends to drop his phone, his hand slipping from yours while his body simultaneously blends and melts into the surrounding corn stalks. He’s not going far, of course. He’s just going to keep an eye on you from within the corn, making sure you don’t get too genuinely scared without him by your side as he waits for the perfect moment to strike.

Your unease immediately grows a significant amount the moment you notice your boyfriend’s absence, eyes frantically darting around for him as the teasing tone in your voice immediately drops. “Saeyoung?” You call out for him, voice sounding shaky but not genuinely scared enough for him to call off the prank. You wait for a few moments, hoping he’ll return to you from wherever he’s gotten himself lost, but when a full minute passes with no response from him, you hesitantly begin to push forward through the maze yourself. Your steps are much lighter and smaller than before, eyes vigilant around every turn and corner as you hope in vain that Saeyoung will at least be waiting for you at the end of the maze when you make it out despite his poor directional skills.

And luckily for him, it doesn’t take long for opportunity to strike for the man in the maze, his hair and yours raising as the sound of a chainsaw suddenly whirs through the air and begins nearing closer and closer to you who stands frozen up in realization. The most terrifying part of any haunted attraction was now staring you straight in the face as it ran towards you, and you let out the loudest shriek of the evening so far as the (chainless, for safety purposes of course) chainsaw was aggressively thrust uncomfortably close to your face.

Saeyoung eagerly watches this interaction, biding his time and waiting around the nearest corner as he watches for the events he knows will play out. And they do, just as he predicted.

With the chainsaw inching closer and closer to your skin (though you knew it would never actually touch you) you sprint faster than ever in the opposite direction, only to let out an even louder shriek than before as a pair of arms emerges from the abyss within the corn and tackles you to the ground, a hand pressing against the back of your head to protect you as you both fall. Your heart beats a mile a minute and you feel genuine fear strike through your being for the smallest moment, before catching a glimpse of bright auburn hair in front of your eyes as your jaw falls open in shock. “Saeyoung?” You ask in confusion, before your brows furrow up in an annoyed glare as you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend’s signature glasses and bashful smirk.

“You asshole!” Your fear vanishes in an instant, melding into annoyance as you gently smack his arm. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“That was kinda the point, babe.” He teases in response, accepting your hit graciously as he stands up before offering you a hand in aid. You nearly refuse to take it out of principle, though it’s clear you’re not actually mad at him as you fight off a slight grin while taking his hand and standing up beside him. His arm instantly moves to wrap around your waist once you’re standing strong once more, pressing a quick peck to your cheek in remorse. “I’m sorry for scaring you though, babe. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me once more.”

You cling on to him tighter than before through the rest of the maze as retribution for his prank, practically attached at the hip as the two of you face jump scares and staged horrors throughout the remainder of the maze. All in all, it takes you about an hour to get through the entire attraction from beginning to end, as you eventually take the reigns and lead the two of you successfully through the labyrinth of stalks while pointedly ignoring any of Saeyoung’s navigation suggestions. And once the two of you are finally freed from the maze of terror, Saeyoung treats you to a shared candy apple, his kisses tasting like sugar as he thanks you for indulging him in his dream holiday date.

Request - Anonymous said: hello! for flufftober, please consider writing something for gojou (jjk), saeyoung (mysme) or keigo (bnha) ):

A/N: Ahhh I’m so excited to be posting my first piece of writing on here for Mystic Messenger! I actually have another MM/707 writing that I was working on before Flufftober but haven’t quite finished yet, and I know I’m way late to the game so idk how big the fandom is on here any more, but I just got into it this past summer so I was really excited to get to write for some of these characters for this event! :D This entire event has been so much fun for me so far so I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am, because I honestly haven’t had this much fun and excitement while writing in a long time! My requests are also currently open, so if you have a request feel free to send it my way!

Taglist: @flufftober

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[ghulehunknown]

Papal Punishments

Secondo x GN!Reader

Day 10 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING - EXPLICIT, NSFW**

Also available on AO3!

“Punished by Papa”

Summary: You go to the Ministry Halloween party wearing your sluttiest costume and of course Papa punishes you for looking so sexy and attracting everyone’s attention, he can’t stand it

CW/Tags: gender neutral reader, clothed male/partially nude reader, roleplay, spanking, slapping, whipping, spitting, degradation, fingering, edging, masturbation, zero aftercare

Word Count: 2069 (nice)

“Did you really think you could hide from me all evening, tesoro?” said Secondo, glowering at you.

You flashed him a coy look; your plan to fluster him all evening at the Ministry’s Halloween party worked. You were supposed to attend in your spookiest of outfits, but you ended up in something a little saucier: a bunny costume, complete with a black corset bodysuit, ears, and fishnet tights.

You waltzed through the halls of the Ministry, drinking and flirting with the Ghouls and other Siblings as the Monster Mash blared in the background.

Alpha looked the cutest, dressing up as a little devil, his whiplike tail blending in for the most realistic costume. The two of you had exchanged glances before, but never acted on whatever tension there was between you. Now that you were with Papa, you would never dare jeopardize what you had with him…but that didn’t mean you couldn’t look. Perhaps tease him, or even pique his interest in inviting a Ghoul to your bed. And by Lucifer’s grace, Papa had noticed. Though truthfully, you weren’t really hiding it.

He cornered you down a hallway, backing you up against a wall. “I said, ‘Did you think you could hide from me?’” he repeated.

You didn’t respond immediately, pondering your options. “Absence does make the heart grow fonder,” you said, taking a sip from your cocktail slowly. Papa went for a classic Dracula look this evening, though not changing his usual Papal makeup much.

He spat out the fake vampire teeth into his hand. “Or it makes your Papa impatient. And you do not wish to see me be a cruel man, do you caro/cara?”

“What does that look like, handsome?” you asked, trailing your fingers up the buttons on his cloak and feeling his muscley pectorals.

“I could rip this corset off you in an instant, make an example of you to the Clergy. Then you would find out what happens to disobedient Siblings who leave their Papa in such a helpless state,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

You looked down and thought you could see a small tent forming in Secondo’s trousers, and smirked. “It sounds like a good time. But, I think my shame should be in private this time around.”

“I expect you to be in my chamber in five minutes. I suggest you don’t be late.” He swept off down the corridor, leaving you breathless, a tingling sensation creeping below your navel. Like butterflies, without the anxiety - you always felt safe with Papa. No matter how much he pretended to be a cold bastard, you knew how warm he truly was.

You swallowed what was left in your cocktail glass for some liquid courage and made your way down the halls, talking yourself up the whole way there. You knocked on the giant oak door, heart pounding wildly.

“Come,” he called, his voice projecting surprisingly well through the thick door. You turned the brass knob, prepared for anything. Not much had changed from the last time you visited his room, except this time Papa was fully clothed with a whip in hand. He was clapping it against his hand menacingly as he stood beside his large leather chair. He had shed his cloak and rolled up his sleeves, the veins in his arms protruding everytime he palmed the whip.

“Kneel,” he said, pointing to the floor by his feet. You obeyed, getting down on your knees and looking up at him. He looked down at you, a sneer on his face, almost a look of disgust.

“Have I disappointed you, Papa?” you asked shyly.

“Hush, puttana,” he warned. “You know exactly what you’ve done. Anymore cheek and you’ll receive a slap on it.”

“But I - ” you started but got the wind knocked out of you with the ends of his fingers striking you across the face.

“I said silence. You will be receiving your punishments this evening, is that clear?” You nodded. He knelt down to firmly grasp your chin in his hand and continued. “You know damn well I could give a shit who you fuck. But don’t you dare parade it around in front of me like I am some old fool.” He spat in your face then released you with such force you flew to the floor and threw your hands out to brace the impact.

You sat up and rubbed your face, still stinging.

“Have you fucked him?” he asked, leaning against the chair.

“Who?”

“Are you stupid now too as well as a whore? You know who I mean. Alpha.”

Your heart sank. “No, Papa, I swear - ”

“Not yet, then,” he said, pondering and pacing around you.

What? Did he want you to fuck Alpha?

“How many times do I have to tell you caro/cara? I do not care who you fuck or how many times, but do not presume to think I am unaware. There is no use in hiding, when truthfully I would rather you waste someone else’s time than mine.”

Ouch. You swallowed the wad of saliva in your throat, almost forgetting to breathe and swallow at all.

“Is that the issue, Papa? I will be more forthcoming in the future…”

“The issue is, my little problem,” he started. Were you his ‘little problem’? “ - that I have been thinking of fucking you all day, and here you are parading your ass around. And you are just too fucking sexy to not take care of this…big problem.”

“And how do I fix this ‘big problem,’ as you call it?”

He snapped and pointed at his feet, the shiny leather of his shoes slightly scuffed. You crawled over to him, and began to kiss his shoes, working your way up, almost eye level with his big problem - until he snatched you by the hair and pulled you away. He dragged you a few feet over to the chair, tossing you over one of the arms.

He grabbed the whip from the other arm of the chair and threw himself into the lounge. He grabbed your legs and draped you over him, your ass cheeks peeking out of your bodysuit. He hiked up the bottoms into your crack, exposing more of your cheeks and the fishnets underneath.

You gripped into the leather arm of the chair as if your life depended on it, bracing yourself for what was to come.

“Are you ready, puttana?” asked Secondo. You nodded, waiting. A loud clap rang through the room, as he struck you with the palm of his hand.

Okay, not so bad - holy shit! You thought too soon, his hand coming down on you again with much more force the second and third times. The brass beads embedded into the seams of the arm were also leaving their own indentations into your fingers from how hard you were holding on.

“Ah shit, Papa!” you cried, hissing an inhale through your teeth. He spanked you again for your exclamation and foul mouth. He unclasped the buttons on the crotch of your bodysuit, roughly pulling it up your body and grabbing your cheeks and massaging them, then smacking them each again.

He grabbed the whip and trailed it along your body, then between your thighs to the sensitive flesh between them, teasing and tickling you along your entrance. You gasped and let out a moan - until he spanked you with it - hard.

“Are you enjoying this, mm? Is my little slut enjoying their punishment?” he said, cracking the whip against you again.

“Ah!” you exclaimed, not sure if you were supposed to answer or not.

“I can’t hear you.” Smack.

“Yes, Papa!” you cried. Smack!

He gripped your fishnets in his hands and said, “These will have to fucking go,” ripping them apart in between your legs. Now there was easy access into your nether regions.

Damn, there went $12.

He spat into his hand and inserted two fingers inside your entrance, feeling you clench around him. When you moaned involuntarily, he retracted his fingers and smacked you on the ass again. You could tell your rear would be red for quite a while.

“Hands on the floor,” he said gruffly, grabbing onto your legs. Carefully you moved so you were reverse straddling him, your entrance almost level with his cock, now protruding from under his trousers and poking you in the groin. Your shins laid flat against his chest, your high heels resting on his shoulders. You held yourself steady, palms to the wood floor - though you didn’t need to use all your upper body strength as he tucked your knees under his elbows.

He gripped onto your cheeks and rubbed them soothingly, then massaged your muscles deeper before smacking you again. Each time instinctively you clenched as he struck you, eliciting a secondary smack from him.

“So tense, caro/cara,” he remarked, slipping his fingers into you once more. Again you clenched around him but as he pumped in and out of you, your body started to relax. Until, that was, he repeatedly removed his fingers to slap you square across your behind again. He repeated these motions over and over, changing up the speed he was fingering you and for how long, so you never knew when to expect the relentless assault on your rear end.

Again and again he fingered you almost to completion, just stopping short each time to give your ass another spank, judging by how quick your breathing got each time.

“P-please, Papa,” you cried after what felt like an hour, your arms shaking as you continued to hold yourself up, resting yourself against his legs from time to time.

“Please what?”

“P-please let me c-cum,” you said, trembling.

“And why should I do that? I like seeing you here, vulnerable and begging.” He paused in thought before clapping your cheek again, though not hard at all this time. Still out of fear it would be a harder spank, you shook as he touched you. “Beg.”

“Mm?” you said.

“You heard me - or are you stupid? Beg for it.”

“Please Papa,” you said barely above a whisper.

“I can’t hear you. If you are worth my time at all, at least be heard.”

“Please Papa!”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Papa!” you practically screamed this time.

He inserted three fingers inside you this time, knowing by feeling that familiar stretch pull you apart like putty in his hands. He groaned as he humped his clothed erection against your sensitive bud in front and mercilessly fingered you from behind, this time to your completion.

You almost slid off his lap as your whole body shook, your orgasm practically exploding over you like fireworks - but he held onto you tightly. Until, that is, your breathing returned to normal and he released you from his grasp, letting you fall to the floor in your exhaustion.

He stood up and looked down at you with a sneer, one hand on his hip, the other on his cock - somehow already out of his pants. He began to stroke himself steadily, staring you down as you watched wide eyed below him.

You scrambled to your knees with an open mouth, leaning in to take his thick member and get face fucked. You practically salivated at the piercings lined up along his shaft, waiting to taste metal. Instead he pushed your head away and tossed you back to the floor.

“Who said you could touch me, puttana? Open,” he instructed.

You sat patiently with your mouth open while he continued to pleasure himself in front of you, moving swiftly and smoothly up and down. Lucifer, he had to be at least 8 inches - maybe even 9 - with a girth you knew would fucking hurt. He leaned down towards you, steadying himself by gripping your hair and pumping long warm strands of cum all over your face - grunting roughly while doing so. You happily licked his juices off your face, longing for more when you cleaned yourself of him.

He continued to look over his nose at you while he adjusted himself back in his pants. Turning on his heel, he walked to another part of his room to sort through some papers and pretended you were no longer there. You sniffled and readjusted yourself, buttoning the clasps of your bodysuit back up before awkwardly waddling out of his door and making the walk of shame down the hallway.

Italian to English Translation

tesoro (treasure)

caro/cara (dear)

puttana (whore)

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Hello !! I’m here for the CoD matchup !! -feigned 💌

-I’m Asexual, i’m attracted to all genders as well!

-My personality type is INFP-T-

-I’m relatively average in height, around 5’6/5’7

-I’m not a very loud person, I tend to avoid conflicts, and I’m quite the people pleaser at times

-I have social anxiety and often struggle with loud noises + crowds

-I’m a bit introverted when it comes to meeting people, and awkward, but when I get to know someone I tend to be more open, and crack more jokes with them

-I have various interests, but I really like studying up on niche subjects, my favorite being mycology!

-I also don’t have any preferences when it comes to looks / gender of my partner

(Tried to keep this short for u bcus i know those long matchup asks can be a pain 😭💌)

I'd match you withhhhhhh

Nikto! (I'm sorry if you don't like this one)

Just so you know, I try to write him as realistically as possible, but this is just my interpretation. He's a character, and has no solid set-in stone personality.

that being said, here you go :)

Okay so I know a huge chunk of people getting a matchup end up getting Simon (i think it's because he's really popular, and not bc they actually match up good) when someone says they're quiet or an introvert, but from what you've told me, I think Nikto fits better for you.

A bit of important backstory for him:

He was a deep cover agent for Russia's Federal Security Service but on a mission he was taken by someone named "Mr. Z" and was tortured. His face and body are covered in scars, extremely so. He wears a mask to cover his face, always. Due to what happened to him, he developed Acute Dissociate Disorder. It shows a good amount in his voice lines. He refers to himself as "we" a lot and talks about how he hears voices.

"I hear enough voices, I don't need another!"

"Nobody hurts our friends and gets away with it!"

He's a very "get shit done" guy. He does make some dry humor jokes though.

Due to how he always is hearing someone talk (in his head) I think he would really appreciate someone who is quiet. Not that he wouldn't want to talk to you, but you being on the more quiet side definitely helps him adjust. You being able to find a creative way around some of his struggles would help a lot. For example; Where a lot of people would be like "why don't you just stop saying we instead of I", which would cause a sort of tension between them and him, you would let him refer to himself as "we" but you would continue to say "you" as a subtle grounding.

(Just an example, not a solid thing)

I feel like he would really like your niche interests. It's hard to truly keep his attention outside of work, especially if they're just common things. So if you were to be reading a book on fungi in Russia, he might see that and be like "wtf?" and interest might be piqued. Idk I feel like he wouldn't really be interested in things unless they were niche (that's where you come in!). He'd probably make some dry as joke that isn't even that funny, but his blank stare and dead delivery would be hilarious.

You both struggle with social anxiety and don't like social settings. He's a soldier, so he has ways to sort of deal with it. If you're really uncomfortable or are worried something will happen, he's right there with you with a hand on your back (it also helps him ground himself when the thought of something happening to you pops up). He's very loyal to those who actually get through to him. Say you're talking to someone who is making you uncomfortable. He'd probably just say something to you, in front of them, like "we're leaving" and just bring you with him. He's socially,, idek. He's awkward. Not in a shy way, just a "wtf are social rules" way. He means well, have mercy.

Once he gets close to you, and realizes he wants you in his life, that's it. Unless you try to take his mask off without his permission, or betray him, he's staying. He loves like a dog. A feral, hungry, desperate for scraps dog. You know the ones. The street dogs that will fight anyone and cling to you when you give them bread. They're still aggressive, just not towards you. Just a bit rough around the edges.

I see a lot of people writing him as sexist or homophobic, but I really don't see him that way. Honestly, I think what happened to him really changed how he thinks. I think a lot less means anything to him. He has to go fight in literal wars, who gives a fuck abt who wants to be with who? Who cares about women wanting to be independent? I don't think he cares. He barely talks to people as is, why would he care about what they do?

I can almost guarantee that if you get hurt, he's gonna take care of you. He's used to the major injuries (broken bones, deep cuts, etc) so he might think he needs to take care of your small ones the same way. He's trying. He cares about you. He's learning.

One thing you'll never need to worry about is him cheating or leaving you. He very rarely lets people in, and never thought he'd find love, but he found you. You're his, he's yours. Simple.

As for sex, not even an issue. I think he could either be hypersexual or asexual. Let's go with asexual for this matchup. I said he cares about a lot of things less than before his torture, and I mean it. A common occurrence with PTSD or just being recently traumatized is lack of interest in things, and that can include sex. I think his sex drive is basically nonexistent. He might jack off, but that's really so there aren't physical issues. It takes him a really long time to warm up to touches, even if they're kind ones. Sex wouldn't even be on the table. If you don't pick up on this, and tell him you're asexual, he'd probably shrug it off. He'd probably just say something like "me too" (after you explain it) and that would be that.

Learning to cuddle or initiate contact would be an interesting experience. He probably would stiffen up when you hold his hand for the first time. But after a while of gentle touches and soft words of how these are safe touches, he'd grow to like them. It would take a while, but he'd get there.

He cares. He wants you, and he'll do his best to do good for you. No relationship is perfect, but growing together is a big part of them.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

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🦇 The View From the Top Book Review 🦇

❓ #QOTD What's the last risk you took OR have you ever gone hiking? ❓ 🦇 Emily Janssen prefers playing it safe, still working at the inn her grandmothers own while dreaming of a day she can fully support herself with her art. Ambitious Diana Devlin is ready to take over as CEO of her family’s hotel chain when her father retires. Everything is going to plan until an unexpected run-in with an alluring artist on a mountainside throws Diana off course, resulting in one of the hottest nights either she or Emily have ever experienced. When Diana's plan goes off the rails, leading her to start her own company and buy Emily's grandmother's beloved inn, neither can forget their memorable—and steamy—night together, even when they're forced to play it professional. Will the view from the top be worth the climb, or will they both have farther to fall?

💜 Rachel Lacey always develops such well-balanced sapphic ships and realistic female protagonists. Emily and Diana are no exception. While Emily has fallen into a comfort zone (unknowingly allowing fears to take lead), Diana pushes past fear, allowing her goal-oriented mindset to take lead. While Emily has built a found family for herself, despite the lack of blood relatives, Diana is surrounded by blood yet still feels alone. Lacey also excels at creating queer found families in her novels. The Adventurers group is sweet, supportive, and gives Lacey the opportunity to expand this single story into a series for each member of their queer rainbow. Diana's relationship with her nephew is heartwarming and precious (hopefully he gets his own story in the future). I especially adored the contrast between Diana's ambitious mindset and anxiety, proving that we never really know how much a person is struggling (especially when they're so good at hiding it). The fall festival chapters make this a comforting read for autumn--I could have lived in those chapters (with a mug full of cider) forever.

💙 Crescent Falls, Vermont seems like the perfect setting for a small-town romance, and it IS. Unfortunately, we don't get to fall into the setting through descriptive language as much as I'd hoped. Even when Emily is painting the rich scenery around her or Diana is immersing herself in this new, charming town, the prose fails to draw us in so we're walking alongside them. That lackluster word choice fails to create the emotional entanglements and tension Rachel Lacey excels at in Stars Collide. Given that the author was sick with COVID and took a break while writing this, it's understandable. That emotion-based writing usually builds and builds until the FMCs can't contain themselves; until NOT touching is torturous. Unfortunately, there's a long stretch where the two FMCs are apart, which causes the story to stall. There's some longing, yes, but it doesn't grow to the point of impatience. I'm also a little disappointed that the characters didn't see the solution to their long-distance relationship sooner, though I do agree it presents a perfect ending. Also, the epilogue gave me total Schitt's Creek vibes, which I LOVED for them!

🦇 Recommended for fans of Alexandria Bellefleur and Ashley Herring Blake.

✨ The Vibes ✨ 🍁 Forced Proximity Small-Town Romance ⛰ Queer Community 🪴 Found Family 🩷 Sapphic Romance 🎨 Mental Health Rep ⛰ Lesbian & Bisexual FMCs 🍁 Third Act Breakup?

🦇 Major thanks to the author @rachelslacey and publisher for providing an ARC of this book. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book. #TheViewFromtheTop

💬 Quotes ❝ Somehow she managed to look as sweet as the flowers she painted while simultaneously being one of the sexiest women Diana had ever seen. ❞ ❝ I’m damn good at wish fulfillment. ❞ ❝ “Feel the fear and do it anyway.” ❞ ❝ She was trying so damn hard to keep her attraction under wraps, and if she got tipsy and stumbled around a darkened pumpkin patch with Emily… well, she’d probably either end up kissing her or having a panic attack. ❞ ❝ "I see you weren’t only admiring my flannel for sapphic reasons." ❞ ❝ "Take a risk. Aim big. Fuck fear. What do you say?” ❞ ❝ Maybe she’d stood in one place for so long, she’d become rooted to the ground. She was terrified of what might happen if she set herself free. ❞ ❝ "Yesterday, I wanted someone to pick me for once. I wanted you to pick me." ❞ ❝ "You’re the first person to show me that I can let my guard down, I can be vulnerable, and you won’t take advantage. You let me be myself and appreciate me for exactly who I am— flaws and all— and I… I didn’t know how much I needed that until I found it.” ❞

[rivetgoth]

Today I had an observation and evaluation with a program supervisor at my internship and it went really well!

Most notably though, afterwards during the debrief she made a comment about how I always have a super good attitude. All of my marks on all of my observations and evals have always scored me crazy high for positive environment, good rapport, good attitude, etc. She was like, "Have you always been like this? Like, were you just this bright smiling confident little boy that was friends with everyone?"

And it was just crazy to hear. I honestly kinda laughed and was like... NO. I explained my backstory a little--Truth be told I was one of the shyest people I have ever known as a kid/preteen/teen. I would make up excuses to avoid going to restaurants with friends because I would feel like I was going to throw up from the anxiety imagining ordering something. I couldn't look people in the eye, couldn't shake their hand, I was terrified to meet new people in any context. I heard the phrase "come out of your shell" 50000000000000x from teachers and other Trusted Adults. My parents were always on my case about it. I remember being like, 12 or so and my mom asked me to run into the store and pick up some milk while she stayed in the car and I just couldn't even IMAGINE a world where I would do such a thing. Like, this is such a vivid memory to me, I remember my mom was annoyed and said something like "How are you going to survive one day when you live on your own?" and I legit could. not. imagine. ever being able to buy something at a store and check it out and deal with a grocery store employee face to face. It legit felt impossible.

As an older teen I started making a really, genuine, honest, active effort to change. Slowly. Truth be told I hated how I was. The social anxiety was symptomatic of a kind of larger issue or a bunch of interconnected issues. I was the pickiest eater I knew. I had dealt with genuine psychotic episodes from around age 14. I had trouble maintaining a single friendship. I was having panic attacks so bad I would end up puking. I was extremely dysphoric and didn't want to be perceived by anyone; I knew nobody would see me as anything but a girl but I felt like I was in genuine danger if I said anything, so I just felt like I was lying to everyone, all the time. It was a lot. I wasn't happy. I made a lot of small changes. Some of these were lifestyle-related: I left public school and switched to independent study. I graduated early and started going to my community college. I got involved in clubs that interested me. But honestly a lot of them were more, like... psychological? Personality-based? More intangible things. I feel like I started engaging with some really introspective shit like

Asking myself, what am I so afraid of? What is the worst that could happen? And actually going through the motions of picturing all of those things, and how I would realistically deal with them, and also realizing that none of it was actually that bad, at all. I could manage literally any of the things I was terrified of, and a lot of the time, there was nothing to be terrified of at all.

Reconceptualizing my social anxiety as an extremely selfish, self-destructive mindset. I think this is going to sound controversial but I believe a lot of my social anxiety was born from being too obsessed with myself. Not in a positive way; I HATED myself. But I was too obsessed with how other people viewed me. I was too obsessed with how I was perceived. To the point that I was treating other people cruelly. You know that tweet that's like "I told my husband that sometimes I worry he hates me and secretly gets annoyed by me, and he said that it made him sad and he wished I wouldn't think of him that way"? Yeah. This also meant doing stuff like developing better social skills for conversing with people that centered them instead of me, like learning how to recognize social cues that didn't really come naturally, asking more questions, being more expressive/reactive, allowing other people to talk first... little things.

But also developing conviction in myself! Realizing that if someone DID think I was stupid, or annoying, or was unnecessarily rude or cruel to me, that they were the one in the wrong. Becoming more confident in knowing who I am and what I'm about, so that if someone judges me, that's on them, not on me. I don't exist for other people. I'm doing my thing authentically, and if other people can't see that, that's on THEM, not on ME.

The two nails in the coffin that buried my social anxiety six feet under for good was getting into the goth/dark alt community and transitioning. Both of these were legitimately life saving. I already loved the music, but I found myself actually wanting to be apart of the community surrounding it. I wanted to go to concerts and see my favorite bands, I wanted to go to clubs and hear the music I love played loud and dance to it. I wanted to dress up and appear Cool to the people I found cool. I literally had to get over it--And when I did go to concerts and clubs and interacted with other musicheads, they were the friendliest, most accepting people I had ever met. It wasn't even that I clicked with everyone instantly, I didn't make any long term friends overnight, but they were nice. They were understanding. They didn't judge me for being a baby bat who was literally bringing his mom to shows lmao. Being in the goth community made me love people, honestly.

And obviously transitioning was just... life saving, in every single sense of the phrase. I would not be alive or who I am in any capacity today if it weren't for transitioning, and it lifted a burden so heavy off of me that it's hard to really fully process the person I was before versus who I am today. Honestly, I almost feel like you could delete everything else and just have this post become a rant about how much transitioning and overcoming my social anxiety has a 1:1 correlation and how much dysphoria masks itself as or at least severely worsens other conditions. I'm genuinely happy now. I enjoy meeting other people. I love being seen as the man I am, navigating society and being authentically me. I think my social anxiety was inseparable from dysphoria. I think my dysphoria was genuinely deeply incapacitating in ways even I couldn't articulate or even fathom.

I did not tell my supervisor all this, LMAO. She doesn't even know I'm trans. I'm stealth to everyone in my program except higher-ups or individuals in my cohort who I've spoken with. But it just had me thinking A LOT about how far I've come. What I did tell my supervisor is, and I stand by this, that I think I'm generally considered a Likable Person™ who promotes Positive Environments™ because it's something I had to work my ass off for. It did not come naturally, and I think it's why I'm so, so cognizant of it.

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

I don't fully recall what originally prompted this - probably a discussion with @shyyren tbh - but found this among my lists! Basically trying to consider if the other legendkeepers had ended up in Ritsu's shoes in Legends: Arceus - specifically being banished from Jubilife Village.

[Image text: I wrote out 'how the legendkeepers cast react to Kamado's Banishment in PLA' can I copypaste that here to share?]

Satsuki - hurt, teary, 'I worked hard, I didn't do anything wrong here, this isn't fair' type of angle. Takes being escorted with some grace but is Dissatisfied with the outcome

Ren - 'haha wow Kamado you had me going, didn't take you for a prankster b-- oh. Oh you're serious. Oh, mb. ......can I at least take my gear with me on my way out?' Handles being escorted compliantly enough

Aya - pulls Rex on Rose level violence, but gets Thrown since Kamado has far more years of training. Takes the escort kicking and screaming the whole way

Maciel - shoots some counter retorts, may stare down Kamado for a moment before giving up on it. Storms out

Touya - Disappointed™️ in Kamado. It doesn't change anything but Kamado walks away somehow feeling lowkey chastised even if Touya doesn't argue too much against it /silly. Takes the escort with no complaints so long as they let him get the egg gear and eggs bc you Know he'd introduce this concept Immediately

Lena - either slaps or just hits him once across the face*. Expresses that he is a terrible leader, to make such a decision when it has proven time and again that working together is The Solution - including alongside pokemon. Leaves without further fuss but has clearly lost respect for Kamado.

Kimmie - v loud, full of disbelief and indignant at this turn of events. Might make a comment about how following superstitions won't get them anywhere. Fussy about being escorted out but goes with it

Xav - meets Kamado with a deadeye stare from start to finish. Leaves without a word.

Rex - see Aya above. Only slightly less feral as he's escorted out

Aspen - if he makes it this far? Cries. Leaves village still crying

Natsumi - seems mildly inconvenienced and leaves without much fuss (is actually a lot more upset than they let on)

*I do think with Kamado's training she wouldn't normally get one in, BUT - Lena also does not seem like the type to do this in the slightest (unlike Aya or Rex) so I figure she gets one in on the grace of it being so out of nowhere.

Bonus round since this prompt predates a few of the cast:

Sumire - Like Aspen, may not get this far (though she'd get furthest out of the ones who Wouldn't)- but if she does, starts crying mixed with an anxiety attack, but is also angry in the midst of all that. Wants to retort or make some well-thought out point like the others but it most likely gets lost in stuttering and sobbing, unfortunately. Lets herself get escorted just calmly enough to barely hold back further sobbing/hyperventilating.

Dust - would likely get further than Aspen, but again is unlikely to get this far. If they do, they're stunned speechless for most of the Commander's decree. Most likely the type to be like "you can't do this to me" once she finds her words - not necessarily in an aggrandizing fashion, but definitely wasn't expecting this, with some level of pleading mixed in. Leaves the village in a state of shock, moving slowly and likely has to be urged to hurry up.

Troy - she gives Commander Kamado an icy stare through it all - and most likely had seen this coming. Is not surprised, but is still very bitter. She likely makes a sharp comment about the village getting on without her help, and is annoyed at the escort because it holds her back from leaving in a huff if anything.

Realistically, I think the people least likely to get through the PLA plot far enough to reach this point include Aspen, Dust, Touya, Ren, and Sumire - in approximate order of who'd drop out soonest. Several of them (Aspen, Dust and Touya) are not really serious battlers/trainers without the right influences, and even those who do (Ren and Sumire) either don't quite meet challenge levels as readily/easily as other champions do, and/or may not be suited to the trials Hisui specifically offers.

[angelofthenight]

The Monster You Created Pt.10

(Sam Fortner x Reader)

Warnings: Yandere!Sam, Dark themes, Swearing, Kidnapping situation, Unreciprocated love, Paranoia, Flashback to verbal abuse

Word Count: 2.6k

Table of Contents

( I’m so sorry updates r taking forever😭😭 I hate slow updates just as much anyone but writing filler scenes in between big events in the book r slowing my motivation down. This chapter was supposed to be longer but I wanted to get something out to remind everyone that I am still working on it, so it ends in an awkward place )

-

You were already seated in your chair in front of the coffee table as Sam came back down the stairs. You decided to be ready to have breakfast with him after witnessing the sight of a corpse rotting within the shell of a human body staring at you right between your eyes. The whole sight left you suddenly very nervous and fearful, gaining the abrupt desire to not anger him this morning thus forcing yourself to be on good behavior, starting with sitting down at the table before he even told you to.

You kept your eyes glued to the table even though Sam’s whole demeanor did a complete flip and he felt much more sanguine. However, he didn’t sit across from you as he always did and instead placed down just your single plate of breakfast. It was a little less amount of food than usual, but you’d only notice if you studied it very hard, other than that it wasn’t that big of a difference in the case of a punishment.

You looked up at him in curiosity as he held two other plates of breakfast. “I’m really sorry but I have to go talk with our guest in the other room. And I might have lunch in there too. But I promise it’s just a today thing.” Sam said with his voice orchestrated with a whimper and sad eyes. He said this like missing a couple of minutes eating two meals with you for one day was the worst thing ever. You were still subconsciously paralyzed so you remained silent even after he left for the other room, opening it and closing slickly so you couldn’t peek.

A new distrusting fear began to bubble in your stomach at a possibility that just cursed your mind. A possibility of Sam’s true motive and intentions. A possibility that Sam has done this whole routine before. That he kidnaps every girl he likes and when they don’t fall for him back within a certain timeframe he kills them and moves onto another girl. Have you bit off more than you can chew and have frustrated Sam to the point of kidnapping a new girl? Maybe all this time he was a serial femicide killer who either murders women in a fit of rage or gets sexual pleasure from killing women he’s attracted to.

That possibility was extremely realistic and common in serial killers, which just did nothing for you but make your limbs uncontrollably tremble. You didn’t even have the resilience to stomach your food out of the pure terror that was gagging and suffocating you. Your lips violently shook as your hands endlessly wrung around each other. You felt like your ribcage was shrinking and squeezing your heart.

You knew this was only a possibility yet your trembling limbs were convinced it was true. That you were going to be murdered.

Was Sam actually going to kill you? You told yourself he wouldn’t yet you remembered that you don’t know him as well as you think. Afterall, the day before you were kidnapped was when your perspective of him was as far from the truth as possible. You didn’t know he liked you, you didn’t know he was a serial killer, and you certainly didn’t know he would kidnap you.

And by the way he stared at you with those zombie eyes, you were more convinced that you truly never really knew him at all.

Your posture was still frozen in foreboding anxiety until Sam had finally exited the side door with a look of disappointment which only enhanced at the sight of your untouched food. He shut his eyes momentarily and let out a sigh before walking over to pick up your plate. With your frightening theory still tormenting your brain you gave one last try to negotiate with the possible remaining redeemability in him.

Once he was sat in the chair on the other side of the table is when you decided to speak, continuing what you were trying to get through to him before breakfast. You took a deep swallow to drain the thick heavy trembling of fear off your uvula. “My job isn’t the only thing I’m worried about.” You said with a tense voice, your eyes never once leaving the table.

Sam took a second to lean back in his chair until he gave you furrowed brows, urging you to continue. You swallowed again, your heart beating so fast that you feared he might hear it. “I-I have a younger sister who needs me. She lives in a crappy apartment, she depends on me financially and emotionally. She’s going through a lot of shit right now and she can’t go through it on her own. I cannot stay here for long.” You tried your best to force your tone to be clear to overpower the utter shaking in its undertone.

Sam didn’t say anything at first, his pointed eyes only softening. He finally spoke up with a frown. “What’s her name?”

Your heart pumped such a beat harder that you almost wheezed from the impact. Your eyes glanced up to the T.V on the far side of the room, the memory of watching the last movie coming into your mind. “Margo.” You tried to say it as soon as he asked. He looked to the carpet and nodded. “Doesn’t she have a job or friends?”

Your stare remained on the coffee table, almost forgetting the name of any job that ever existed under the pressure of waiting eyes. Your lips were closed shut so you could heavily breathe through your nose. “She goes to the community college and works part time at the grocery store.” You said quickly. “And the friends she has aren’t the right kind of crowd for her.”

“I see…” Sam softly said, nodding his head as he looked away from you like he was deep in thought. The suffocation closing in on you was suddenly lifted when you heard him say that.

Sam returned his gaze back to you, the mood in them completely switching from light to dark. “But can you at least look me in the eyes when you lie to me.” He spat.

Your eyes widened then snapped up to him in terror, that same terror stealing all words from your throat before you could even form them. Your frown was shaking as you locked your sights on his furious expression, his glare tasing you. You opened your mouth to defend yourself for your life but your words were still taken by your alarmed terror.

Sam scoffed at your reaction and rose to his feet with a sneer rubbed across his provoked face. “I can’t believe you! As if the list of your bad behaviors wasn’t long enough, now you’re a liar too!? Jesus fucking Christ.” He viciously babbled as he began to pace the floor, you holding back tears full of dread over the fact that he actually saw right through your lie as if it were glass. Again, you really didn’t know him as well as you thought since he knows you way better than you thought.

Sam tightened his hands into fists, turning to face you to yell down at you. “You’re so full of bullshit I actually can’t believe it! A sister? Really? Are you fucking kidding me?! You think I wouldn’t know you’re an only child? I literally told you there isn’t a single thing about you I don’t remember! But you never listen!”

Your lips quaked despite biting down on your bottom lip to cease it, your hand clutching onto your other one. Your burning eyes were still wide open, your lower lash lines bearing puddles of your tears that didn’t dare to leak down your cheeks. The fear of the idea that Sam had the mind to murder you still loomed right over you so his violently raised voice was just making your current emotional state even worse.

“You think I like yelling at you?!” He still continued. “Because I don’t! But apparently the only way to make you listen to me and pay attention is if I do!”

Why do you keep ending up in this situation?

~

“Don’t yell at me.” You meekly said but with a face of seriousness as you stood in front of your tantruming boyfriend, Brady. You made the two of you leave his friends’ party early because you had to wake up early the next morning to take your car into the repair shop. You had told him before you left and he was totally fine with it but once you reminded him at the party he seemed more than angry with you.

Despite telling him he could go back after returning you home, he instigated a one way argument with you in your shared living room, the subject of the fight becoming unclear the more he yelled.

“Why?! You only listen to me when I scream! Like you’re fucking deaf!” He walked over to your still body and positioned his mouth just inches away from your ear. “Should I stand right here when I talk to you from now on!?” You squeezed your eyes shut from the high volume straight to your eardrum. “Even if I did, you probably still wouldn’t understand what I’m saying!”

~

“The only way to make you listen is if I yell!” Your dad screamed down at your adolescent form as he aggressively gestured toward the dishwasher full of day-old clean dishes that he had told you to put away before he got back from work. You were constantly sniffling as tears drizzled from your wet, sad eyes.

“You’re just like your mother! Fuckin’ pissing me off all the time!” He savagely screamed at you, baring his teeth like a rabid dog. “Do you purposely try to piss me off so that I yell at you?! Do you like it when I yell at you since that’s the only way you can listen!?”

~

Why do you keep ending up in this situation? Over and over again? You just never seem to learn no matter how many times you circle back to this.

Sam finally seemed to tire out of his yelling, catching his breath as his back faced you still holding in tears. The terror was still washing over your senses as your body was still frozen and your lips were still fighting off the quiver. His harsh sigh made you physically flinch but woke you up enough to finally ask what has been bothering you all morning.

“If…” Your courage shrunk in size when Sam turned back around, your words cowering back down your throat but you still forced them through your overly shaky voice. “If I don’t fall for you…” you looked up at him with terribly glossy eyes and lips trembling more and more, “are you gonna kill me?” Your voice broke down into wheezes as you asked it, tears finally falling; asking it out loud was unexpectedly so much harder than thinking it, genuinely questioning your potential death being too hard to bear.

Sam’s jaw dropped and a look of horror that nearly challenged yours crossed over his features, his eyes going big in shock. “Oh my god, no. No, no, no.” He desperately said, taking small steps toward you with a vulnerable voice. “Of course not. Don’t even say that. I would never dare do anything like that to you.” He said honestly. “Is that what you’ve been thinking? Shit, (Y/n), do you actually believe I would do that to you? After all the trouble I went through just to get you here with me?”

Just the mere thought of life draining from your eyes made him manic, and the mere thought of him being the cause of it was too excruciatingly painful to even stomach.

Tears began to expand in Sam’s eyes. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I love you?! And that I would never hurt you!” The man tumbled to his knees before your seated form, your body finally losing its stiffness once being coaxed back to the weakness of not believing Sam could or would hurt anyone.

“Did you know this whole situation hurts me more than you? Not being able to touch you is absolute torture for me! I just want you to trust me enough to let me touch you, to feel you in between my arms. I promised you I wouldn’t touch you without your permission, remember?” You pursed your lips together, almost forgetting that he did in fact promise that and has yet to ever touch you in any sensual manner.

He frantically gestured his hands towards his chest. “But I’m endlessly aching for your touch. I want to hold you so badly but I can’t. But once I do, I know I’ll never stop.” His proclamations slowed down as a sickening sense of lust painted over his green-hued gaze with flushed cheeks when thinking of the day that he’ll finally be allowed to touch you.

“But…” you spoke down at his lovesick visage, ignoring the fact that he probably didn’t want you to respond, “that doesn’t answer what you’re going to do with me if I never fall for you.” You nearly regretted asking despite knowing that Sam would lie to you about what would happen or be so delusional that he truly didn’t think it were possible.

Sam shortly shook his head, a small smile teasing his lips. “You’ll learn to love me. Just give it a little time and you will, I know you will!” His voice was filled with assurance and hope. He rubbed his palm over his eyes to wipe away his tears as he stood up. “But this is why he’s here.” He said just above a mumble as he turned back for his room, not comprehending he said that aloud and leaving you lightly flabbergasted.

~

Hearing the door slide open, you instantly broke your eyes away from the page of the book you were reading to distract your attention away from your predicament. With the weight of the knowledge that you would meet whoever was locked behind the other side of the door when Sam returned home, it felt like Sam was gone for much longer than usual even though in reality that wasn’t true at all. You clapped your book closed and made your way to the same chair you sit in every single day.

Sam began excitedly telling you all about the restaurant he went to for dinner and the unique way they prepare their Greek food but your mind was much too occupied with the torturing suspense of getting to finally meet your fellow captive, noting the third plate Sam had pulled out. Sam exhaled giddily with his hands on his hips, smiling down at you. “I have someone very special I’d like you to meet.” He said before walking over to the closed door with an energetic grin.

You leaned forward to try and see around him when he opened the door. Words that were too quiet and distant for you to hear were exchanged between the two of them. “Gene! I mean-Sam!” You heard a voice you didn’t recognize call out in between sounds of shuffling. Your heart began to pound in nervous avidity as you listened intently and moved your body around to try and get a glimpse into what was going on.

Taglist: @alices-halcyon @katlover63 @valareina @kaitcreatesart @girl-next-door-writes @queen-of-elves

[yansimstorythatiwillnotworkon]

Osana Najimi

Name: Osana Najimi

Gender: Female

Class: 2-1

Club: N/A

Persona: Lovestruck (Loner)

Reputation:

Overall: +26

Liked: +60

Respected: +10

Feared: +10

Crush: Taro Yamada

Strength: Very Weak

__

I think Osana is a pretty well-balanced character, and I really like her. She's one of the only rivals to have a dislikable trait to her that can very well be fixed with the right solutions. Additionally, she is one of the ONLY rivals that has a good reason to want to confess to Taro by the end of the week. One of these reasons is, of course, that she's known him for longer than a week.

A childhood friend with difficulty expressing her emotions getting with her nice, trusted friend could help her out immensely. More down below if you're interested.

I won't go too much into Raibaru right now, but I will say that if Osana had to give up either Raibaru or Taro for some reason, I think it should be Raibaru. (Mind you, this is with the slightly altered ideas of Taro as a character inserted here.)

I see Taro as a pretty honest and friendly guy. If Osana were to ever get out of hand, I'm sure he'd confront her about this, and since Taro means so much to her, I'm sure Osana would think about it deeply and reconsider how she acts.

Raibaru, on the other hand, despite being so posessive of Osana, often treats Osana like she's the victim. Usually, it's "Don't you think" turned into "it's not your fault" turned to "it'll all be okay". All of this just seems like Raibaru WANTS Osana to rethink her ways, but doubles down on it as soon as Osana gets sad about it, and instead chooses to ignore Osana's bad traits. The only reason she would do this and barely have a problem with how Osana acts is because she isn't Taro. Osana acts rudely to Taro due to her confusion when it comes to her feelings, but acts normally around Raibaru because Raibaru is just.. Raibaru. Raibaru is important to Osana, but not in the way that Taro is, and due to Raibaru experiencing a different side of Osana, she sees no reason to say that Osana is ever in the wrong- even when she is. Thanks to this, Osana remains overall very oblivious to how badly her actions could affect Taro.

Onto Taro, though. As I said before, Osana is the ONLY rival to have a reason to have just a WEEK to want to confess due to her time with Taro beforehand. More time than a weekend, at least. If Taro had to get with any of the rivals, I think Osana would be one of the top decisions. If I ever decide to write possible confessions for some rivals, I think that Taro would be 100% open to dating Osana, but would talk to her thoroughly about how she acts. And with Osana's feelings for him being clear now, their relationship could blossom properly with her anxieties out of the way.

Onto Kyuji, though. I haven't heard much about how he views Osana, but as far as I'm concerned, he ONLY likes Osana for how she looks. This isn't okay, but only because of how it's perceived by others. Realistically, how someone looks is a main reason as to why another person would want to get to know that person. If you think someone is good-looking, you may want to get to know them and hope that they have a personality as good as their looks. Kyuji would definitely need some help from Ayano, but I think that his sincere interest in her and how open he is about his feelings would charm Osana. Not enough to make her fall head over heels in a week, of course. I think if Osana was convinced that Taro liked or was better off with someone else, she would be content with trying to get to know Kyuji better instead of confessing to Taro on Friday.

Hanako is a short subject and not too important in this case. She played with Hanako when they were younger, but since they went to different schools, they eventually stopped talking. Of course, Hanako is still important to Osana, and Hanako trusts Osana to look after Taro, so their relationship is still very healthy.