#my grandpa who raised me is in the hospital

[tfshouldidohere]

so many levels of drained and tired and absolutely fucked up rn

[koushirouizumi]

@izumikoushiroweek

(For Reblog day!) {Belated} [*Though the intended pair was/Is Koushiro x Taichi, it can also be viewed as semi canon-compliant.]

(Fun fact: in the US Dub for Kyou Kara Maou!, {though it is also a heavily localized "dub"} Wolfram, one of the main leads, if not secondary main lead, is also Voiced by Mona Marshall (voice actor of Koushiro "Izzy" Izumi in US Dub!)

[Thus, some of the imagery here was meant to invoke or even lightly parallel Kyou Kara Maou and the dynamic between Yuuri and Wolfram, including within the original Light Novels version.]

(Example: There is a moment just before the final battle of Kizuna; That is meant to more specifically invoke/parallel the "I'LL fall with You" / "I finally CAUGHT YOU" line/scenes between Yuuri and Wolfram.)

Note: -This video’s embed may randomly not display at times, Showing like it’s “down”, but it’s not at this time! {It usually happens late at night[s] or seemingly when Tumblr is experiencing very high traffic} If that happens, please consider checking back in and watching at a later time!

Digimon Adventure/tri/Kizuna A.M.V. ~ Version #1 Featuring Duo/Ship/OTP: KouTai {Koushiro x Taichi} {Music ©/from: Kyou Kara Maou! [OST]/Soundtrack} [Song Title: Hateshinaku Tooi Sora Ni (In the Infinitely Distant Sky) {OST Instrumental version}]

Original Posters’ [Mine] Commentary: I made this in about 2 and ½ hours, so it’s a bit rough on edges in a few timings (I might have to re-time those moments in a later/fixed edit)

Further original commentary/Spoiler notices under ‘read more’!

Keep reading

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by this, this, and this !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

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[secular-jew]

I’m a Palestinian American. Here’s Why I Can’t Support the Anti-Israel Protesters. By Elizabeth Gillanders. August 16, 2024

Walking past Union Station in the nation’s capital, I recently was met with a heartbreaking sight. Vandals had defaced the Columbus Memorial Fountain with spray paint, writing the words “Hamas is coming” in big red letters.

Trash and signs discarded by anti-Israel protesters littered the ground. A burnt shopping cart stood off to one side with piles of ash beneath it.

Most depressing, however, were the three bare flag poles that had been robbed of their American flags. Protesters had burned the flags, the only remnant a charred piece of fabric atop another pile of ash.

This was the aftermath of the July 24 “pro-Palestinian” protests in Washington, D.C., organized in response to Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s address that day to a joint meeting of Congress.

As an American of Palestinian heritage, some expect me to cheer on these people. They expect me to condemn the U.S., hate Israel, and support Hamas, a terrorist organization dedicated to wiping out the Jewish state.

But these expectations don’t represent me, nor my family.

I inherit my Palestinian background from my mother’s side of the family; her parents emigrated to America from the Middle East. My grandma was born in Israel and later moved to Ramallah in the West Bank and eventually to Jordan.

After arriving in America in her 20s, my grandma worked hard to become a U.S. citizen. She learned the English language while raising my mother and uncle. She opened a restaurant with my grandpa, lovingly named the Chicken Pantry, in Hamtramck, Michigan. When that business closed, my grandma worked as a real estate agent before eventually retiring in the land of prosperity.

America brought my family prosperity. My grandparents taught my mother to “kiss the ground you walk on” because they knew what a blessing America is.

They passed this lesson on to me.

Although many seem to think that my Palestinian heritage should cause me to align with protests that supposedly are “pro-Palestinian,” it’s precisely because of my heritage that I cannot do that.

Israel went to war with Hamas in the Gaza Strip only after Hamas terrorists slaughtered 1,200 and kidnapped about 250 in a rampage of rape, torture, and murder Oct. 7 in southern Israel.

About 10 months later, as pro-Hamas protesters march in this country to “free Palestine,” they call for the death of America. As they burn the American flag, they burn all that my family has worked to achieve.

As the protesters pledge their allegiance to Hamas, they encourage a group that my grandmother wouldn’t hesitate to call a terrorist organization that operates with a strategy of human sacrifice.

Think about it. Why are there no Hamas military bases in the Gaza Strip adjoining Israel? Because the terrorists hide behind their own people.

They dress like noncombatants in Gaza. They establish bunkers in hospitals. They commandeer ambulances for transportation.

These actions are all in direct violation of Article 18 of the Geneva Conventions, the international pacts that set minimum standards during armed conflict for the treatment of civilians, soldiers, and prisoners of war.

One example is Hamas’ use of Gaza’s most important hospital, Al-Shifa. According to the Foundation for Defense of Democracies, Hamas uses a bunker under the hospital as a base for military operations. This not only makes the hospital a target, but takes medical resources needed for the sick.

In contrast, the Israel Defense Forces have given civilians in Gaza opportunities to evacuate and warned of impending attacks. No other nation goes this far to protect enemy civilians.

How can I support pro-Hamas demonstrators who wish to end the nation that brought my family so much? How can I back a terrorist group that uses its own people as human shields? How can I hate Israel, when the IDF has worked to keep Palestinian civilians out of harm’s way?

I believe it’s important to point out that, contrary to popular belief, not all Arabs think the same. Some of us do see this conflict differently. And our thoughts and beliefs should not be snuffed out because they go against the “narrative.”

To some, perhaps our stance makes us walking oxymorons. But we are proud ones, nonetheless.

[topguncortez]

Maybe blurb from crying prompt idk if this would be a hide or hold maybe both? But the reader holds her emotions in during a family thing because she's the oldest sibling and she feels like she has to be strong because that's how her family was raised and then she gets a moment and they tell her to stop being strong and that it's okay to let it out. I'm thinking either Bradley or Jake?

Hold My Hand - J. Seresin x Reader

synopsis: you get a phone call that no child ever wants to get, and as the "rock" of the family, you aren't allowed to break.

warnings: parental death, trauma, parental abandonment, incorrect medical jargon, mental abuse, grief, depression

note: I know this was supposed to only be a blurb, but I started writing and I couldn't stop. These past 16 days have been hell and there was something about writing this that just felt so freeing, like the cloud hanging over me has finally been lifted.

it had felt like a lifetime had passed, but in reality, it had only been 10 days.

10 days since that frightening phone call on that cold January day.

10 days since your mother called you, sound incoherent on the phone but you managed to gather the gist of it.

10 days since you had rushed out of your house, your hair half done, your husband chasing after you like you had lost your mind.

10 days since your father so bravely rushed into a burning building, saving other children and leaving you, your siblings and your mother behind.

You were angry, at first. Angry at the world for allowing this to happen. Angry at your father for playing superman when he was just a regular man. Angry at the other people standing around who didn’t have the same courage to run into the fire instead of standing by and yelling at your father to turn back. Angry that this was going to be the end; that your mother would be a widow at a young age, your youngest sisters wouldn’t have their father to walk them down the aisle, your children wouldn’t ever have another “grandpa day”, that you’d never get another hug and an “i love you” from your father again.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to shut out the world, force the cameras away, force the sorrowful looks from others away, force the heavy weight of your heart onto someone else.

But you couldn't. You had to be the strong one. For your mother. For your siblings. For your own children.

Jake had been watching you like a hawk since you had gotten that phone call. The morning started out like any other morning, with the two of you waking up before the sun was in the sky, making sure you had enough time to do a quick at-home workout and a run. You had been working on packing the kids' lunches when you got that call. He had to pry the keys out of your hands, telling you that your mother didn't need you and your father in the hospital.

Jake had eyed you the whole drive, noticing the redness and the unshed tears in your eyes. The way that you clutched the dainty silver cross around your neck between your fingers. The way that you sniffled every so often, trying to hold back the tears. But the second you stepped into the hospital, seeing the distressing look on your mother's face and the waiting room full of fellow firemen, you rolled your shoulders back and pushed back your own sadness and grief.

Those 10 days had been the best and worst of your life. You hardly left the hospital, unless Jake was physically forcing you to leave. You hardly ate, hardly slept, hardly took care of yourself. Your mind was so worried about everyone else except yourself. For 9 days, you had believed that maybe, just maybe, your father would pull through. But that all came crashing down on day 10, when your father's brain had swelled and his doctor's pronounced him brain dead.

"Y/N," Your mother had spoke, looking over at you as the doctor stood in front of your family. Jake shifted in his seat, putting his hand on your thigh, "You need to do it."

"What?"

"No," You and Jake spoke at the same time.

Your mother shook her head, "I can't be the one. . .," Tears clogged her throat, "I can't be the one who takes him-"

Jake scoffed, sitting up straight in his chair, his grip tightening on your thigh, "And you want your daughter to-"

"Jake," You sighed. There was no use in fighting. After all, you were the eldest. You knew eventually you would be the one who gets stuck making the medical choices for your parents. You just assumed you'd have more time to prepare. You rolled your shoulders back and looked at the doctor, "What do I need to sign?"

"It was such a lovely service," Your aunt Marjorie said, patting Jake's hand as he spoke to him. It was true, you had done a fantastic job planning a funeral for your father, all by yourself. Jake had helped you the best that he could, going with you to pick out a casket and a grave plot and music and flowers, "That Y/N was always Lee's favorite."

"I know," Jake gave Aunt Marjorie his best gentleman smile, the one that made his dimple pop out, "She's a special girl."

"Oh and how brave she was standing in front of everyone and speaking?" Aunt Marjorie placed her hand on her heart. Jake nodded his head, wishing that he could be anywhere else than in a conversation with Aunt Marjorie, "And that Miranda," Aunt Marjorie scoffed, looking over at where your mother sat stoic on the couch, "Looks like she's going to be the next to go."

Jake clenched his jaw, pulling his eyes away from your mother. He had his own thoughts and feelings about her, ones that he had shared with you one night during a heated fight.

"She has abandoned you!" Jake yelled, as you angrily pulled the blankets back on the bed. You were exhausted and just wanted to sleep in your bed for one night. You had managed to get your mother to stay with your father for the night, which was like pulling teeth, "You need her to be the parent and she's not."

"She is grieving too, Jake," You sighed.

"And you're not!?"

"I am," You ran a hand down your face, "I just handle it differently. I've always been the strong rock. The one who doesn't cry. The one who holds others when they cry," You sat down on the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion.

"And I know that, baby," Jake rounded the bed, and sat down beside you. He grabbed your hand, holding it in his own, "You are strong. You are incredibly fucking strong. . . but you shouldn't have to be the strong one right now. You shouldn't be the one pulling all nighters by your dad's side. You shouldn't be the one making medical decisions on your father's behalf. Even though you are an adult. . . Y/N, baby, you're still his child. Your mother should-"

"I don't want to have this conversation anymore," You pulled your hand away from Jake, "My mom isn't well, and she needs me to help her-"

"Bullshit," Jake scoffed, "She is abandoning you and you know it."

You clenched your jaw, holding back the anger radiating in your body. Jake held a tiny bit of hope that maybe, just maybe you'd lash out at him. That you'd show some type of emotion after being a near zombie these past 8 days. But instead, you stood up quietly and left the room, choosing to go sleep in your son's room instead.

Jake had drown out Aunt Marjorie's talking, his eyes landing on you across the room. You had opened up your home to your family, your father's fire crew, Jake's squad and friends for a meal and drinks following the funeral. You had done a great job at not falling apart during the service or the burial, but Jake could tell that the rope was starting to fray. And right now, it was about to snap as you were talking animatedly with your sister across the room in a small alcove.

"Hey, Aunt Marjorie," Jake turned back to look at the 80 year old woman, "It was lovely catching up with you, but I need to go help Y/N with something. We should do coffee some time."

"Oh yes, that'd be-"

"Great, see you later," Jake quickly made his way over to you, not bothering to hear the rest of Aunt Marjorie's response.

The last thing you wanted to do in a houseful of guests from your father's funeral, was get into an argument with your sister, but here you were. Claire was the baby of the family, the one who got away with the most. Your relationship with Claire was rocky, as the line between sister and mother-figure had gotten crossed while you were growing up. You wanted what was best for Claire, and sometimes that required extra tough love and parenting.

"You are high!" You exclaimed.

"I am not," Claire's voice was slightly slurred. Jake's nose scrunched up as he walked into the room, smelling the distinct scent of marijuana.

"My whole damn shed smells like marijuana, Claire," You crossed your arms over your chest, "This isn't like you. What is going on? Talk to me."

"Oh god," Claire rolled her eyes, "Here she goes again. Acting like my mother!"

"Well!" You scoffed, throwing your arms in the air. Jake stood behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. In the past couple days, you had shrugged off any sort of comfort that Jake offered you, but now, you welcomed it, "You smoked a joint before you walked into dad's funeral! Smoked another one in my shed, where your niece and nephew play. And don't even get me started on how you reeked like vod-"

"Y/N," Your mother's voice filled the air, making all three of you look towards her, "Let's not do this now."

"No," You shook your head, "Let's do this now. Your daughter is high. She smoked up in my garage and then walked into my house smelling like a dispensary."

Your mom looked over at your sister and then back at you. You felt a pang in your chest as you watched her silently side with your sister. The familiar burning sensation of tears prickled at your eyes and nose.

"She's grieving," Your mother simply answered.

You scoffed, "And who isn't?"

"Y/N,"

"Forget it," You shook your head, "It's nothing, it's fine. It's always fucking fine."

For the rest of the afternoon, you made yourself busy, staying far away from your mother and sister. Jake remained within arms reach of you, his presence comforting and not overbearing. You had finally sat down, and managed to get something in your stomach. It must've been evident on your face, but the guests had only said a couple words to you before going on their way. It took nearly four hours, but all the guests had left, filling your house with a silence you hadn't heard in nearly 10 days.

Jake had taken the burden of cleaning everything up, while you sat on the back porch, watching the sunset with a glass of wine in your hand. The cool San Diego winter breeze felt nice against your heated skin.

"The house is finally, back to normal," Jake announced as he walked out onto the back porch. Natasha had gratefully volunteered to take your children for the night, so you and Jake could decompress.

"Thank you, daddy," You smiled sweetly at him, as he sat down next to you on the porch swing.

"Of course, baby," He said, and held out a white gift box, "Someone left this for you."

You furrowed your eyebrows, taking the box from him and lifting the lid. Your breath caught in your throat as you lifted the small, gold pocket watch from the box.

"Y/N," Jake said softly.

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, "I always wanted this," You ran your hand over the engraved hummingbird on the gold casing, "It was from my grandfather's jewelry store and it quit working. My dad said he was going to get it fixed and give it to me as a wedding gift, but he lost it. . . I-I don't know-"

"Well, does it work?" Jake asked.

You swallowed, opening the face of the watch open. To your surprise, it did work. The second hand ticked around in perfect time as the watch seemed to already be set to the correct time. The beautiful watch had a colorful humming bird painted onto the face in the middle of the black Roman numeral numbers, and gold watch hands.

"It's perf- oh, c'mon," You cursed, as the watch stopped ticking. You tapped the glass face a couple of times, trying to maybe, just maybe get it up and ticking, "C'mon! You just. . . worked! C'mon!"

"Baby," Jake spoke, gently placing his hand on your wrist.

"No! It has to work! It has to!"

"Baby, it's okay," Jake assured you, "It's o-"

"Nothing is okay!" You snapped, looking up at him as the tears had finally escaped your eyes, "Nothing about any of this is okay!" You pushed yourself up from the porch swing, rushing to the edge of the patio and throwing the watching across the yard with a scream. Jake closed his eyes as loud sobs escaped from your lugs, as the grief had finally seemed to rush to you.

He stood up from the porch swing and enveloped you in his arms. You sagged against him, feeling his arms tighten around you to be able to hold you up. Jake hushed you, placing a hand on the back of your head, and his chin on the top.

"Let it out, baby," Jake encouraged you, running a hand over your hair, "Let it all out, baby."

You weren't sure how long you stood there in Jake's arms and cried, but he eventually picked you up, after feeling your legs grow weak. He carried you through the house, to your shared bedroom, sitting you down gently on the bed. You didn't even need to tell him what to do as he moved through the bedroom with familiarity, grabbing you nightgown, taking you out of your dress, washing the make-up from your face and applying your moisturizer.

"What do you need from me, baby?" Jake asked, as he kneeled in front of you, sliding your socks on your feet.

"I don't know," Your voice was raspy as you looked at him confused, "I've never. . . I've never felt-"

"I know," Jake nodded his head, "I know you haven't, and it can be scary the first time you just. . . lose it all." Jake could remember the first time he had ever broken down like you had. It was terrifying as he cried and destroyed the things around him. It felt like it was never going to end as one thing after another had set him off, until he was on the ground in the fetal position, withering, "But it will all be okay. I'm here to help you. Let me help you."

You nodded your head, tears springing to your eyes again. Jake cooed, and pulled you into his arms again as the tears fell down your cheeks.

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[seniaasaysstuff]

BRAT; Ryomen Sukuna x fem!Itadori Reader. (Soulmate au)

This is a sukuna x fem itadori reader wip. I thought a soulmate au with sukuna possessing you would be an interesting idea haha. It has some cracky undertones.

Yuji is your twin brother but you ate the cursed finger instead.

Would you like to read more of it? Let me know!

Sukuna had been waiting his entire life for you, his soulmate. From the time he learned about soulmates, he was obsessed with the idea of meeting you.

He didn’t quite understand what the words on his wrist meant but he adored him. “Holy fuck you’re hot.” were illuminated on his wrist. He reasoned that maybe it was some other language. He always ran his fingers on the words, tracing them gently whenever he felt sad or angry. It was his only solace in this cruel world.

He didn’t care about the abuse he received from his parents nor did he care about how the villagers treated him.

You were the only thing on his mind. His mind was always wandering around thinking of you. He wondered about what you looked like, how you were doing, if you thought about him as much as he did.

He wished you would just come and save him from the hellish life he was living. He was at a point in his life where he was weak and he wasn’t able to do anything to protect himself.

He trained everyday on his techniques, worked on building muscles and just becoming strong. He got strong and eventually became the strongest sorcerer alive so that he could protect you.

He waited and waited and waited for you to show up one day. But you never showed up. Sukuna felt gutted. He was so filled with grief and sadness that he went mad.

He slaughtered numerous people. It didn’t matter who it was, men or women he killed them all. He didn’t care about the consequences of his actions. He just wanted to meet you.

A time came when he had to be killed. His only regret was that he never got to meet you. His fingers became a cursed object and were sealed away.

In the 21 century, there you were. Itadori y/n, Yuji Itadori’s twin sister.

You were a bubbly child, always happy and just rambling all the time. It didn’t matter who it was, the moment someone talked to you? You went off on tangents about anything and everything. You had never-ending topics and facts and the urge to never shut up.

Your twin, Yuji, was constantly annoyed with your incessant talking but it was also one of the things that he loved about you.

When you found out about soulmates you were amazed by the notion of it. Someone that was going to love you no matter what.

The words written on your wrist were embarrassing and in some ways endearing to you.

The words “I finally found you huh? My brat.” adorned on your wrist. You figured your soulmate was quite a grumpy person that was like an old soul.

You daydreamed about your soulmate all the time. You wondered about what he was like. You eagerly wished to meet him.

————————————————————————

You and Yuji were on your way to the hospital. You both had brought a beautiful bouquet for your Grandpa Saitou. To others he may seem like a rude old man, he literally was but he was so much more than that. He was like your father. He had single-handedly raised you and yuji and loved you both immensely.

You walked inside the hospital room and rushed up to your grandpa Saitou and hugged him. “Grandpa! I missed you.”

Now Grandpa had a soft spot for you. You reminded him of his son, Itadori Jin. Over the years he had fondly spoken about the similarities between you.

“I joined a club with Yuji today!” “Oh really? Tell me all about it.” your grandpa replied with a glint of amusement in his eyes. He was the only one alongside Yuji who loved hearing you talk.

“Yuji? Why am I hearing just now that you joined the occult club?” Grandpa now turned towards Yuji who was placing the flowers in the vase.

“Uh, you know how she is. I am not going to leave her alone.” Yuji shrugged. “This is why I love you yuji!” you fake cried. “Shut up.” He blushed. Grandpa cleared his throat.

“Yuji, you're a strong kid, take care of others, especially her.” Grandpa now turned over and looked at you. “You're the sweetest child and I am proud that I raised you both.”

“Grandpa-why are you saying this?” you stuttered.

“Both of you protect each other no matter what.” Grandpa Saitou spoke and turned over. That was the moment you knew he was dead.

“Grandpa? Grandpa?” Yuji called out.

“Yuji? Is- he de-ad?” your lip quivered. Yuji did not respond, it made you sob. Your legs felt weak and you dropped to the floor. Hot tears were streaming down your face.

Yuji scooped you in his arms and led you out of the hospital room. He sat you down on one of the chairs and let you cry on his shoulder. Yuji also had tears in his eyes, he didn't expect this. Neither of you did.

You were approached by an emo-looking boy with spiky hair. "Yuji Itadori, correct?" The person asked. “You're my soulmate?” Yuji asked, looking dumbfounded.

“This is crazy,” You mumbled. “I’m Fushiguro Megumi. It's nice to finally meet you. I’m from Jujutsu high school. Sorry, but there's no time." He said.

"The cursed object you have is extremely dangerous. Hand it over right away." Megumi spoke. “I don't want you to get hurt,” he added.

"Cursed object?" Itadori asked, confused. You moved to a more secluded area. "This, you have it right?" He asked as he pulled out his phone with a picture of the cursed object.

“Hm?" Itadori looked closer. “Yuji, isn't that the ugly-looking finger?” you questioned.

"Oh yeah! I found it. I don't mind giving it back, but my fellow club members have taken a liking to it." He spoke. "I’d at least like an explanation."

"The majority are the result of negative energy that flows out of people..." Megumi started. “And it's a very dangerous object. I can't risk you getting hurt or other people getting killed.'' Megumi spoke.

“I said that I don't mind it, you can have it.” Yuji handed him the box.“It’s empty? I was just following the taint clinging to the box?” Megumi mumbled.

“Yuji? Where is the finger?” He asked. “It's with our senpais. Actually, they were thinking of removing the talisman tonight.'' Megumi backed away.

“What? Is it bad?” You asked. “Bad? It's worse than bad, they're going to get killed.”

~time skip~

"I just need some cursed energy, right?" you rustled through your pocket and pulled out the finger, and ate it.

“You dumbass. Are you trying to kill yourself?” Yuji yelled at you. “Well if it saves you then i’ll do everything in my power.” you smiled at yuji.

Your entire body convulsed and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You could faintly hear yuji and his soulmate scream for you as you collapsed on the cold floor.

You woke up in a weird dark place that awfully looked like a shrine? And someone was sitting on the throne made up of bones.

You squinted your eyes, “Holy fuck you're hot.” You blurted out then squeaked.

The man chuckled, his voice sounded deep and velvety. “I finally found you huh? My brat.”

“YOU?!!” you shouted.

And just like that, you found your soulmate.

He snapped his fingers and you landed on his lap. “Wow, today is like a trainwreck,” you mumbled.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, propping his chin on your shoulder. “Well first my grandpa died then my brother found his soulmate and then we heard that our senpais could die because of the old crusty finger so then I ate it and well then I passed out and then I found you?” you animatedly spoke. “Well where did you come from tho?” you asked.

He chuckled again. “I quote ‘The old crusty finger’ That was my finger from my old body that got sealed away.”

“Wait- does that mean you're inside of me?” You asked, feeling confused about the whole situation.

“That sounded so bad.” Sukuna groaned. “But yes I’m quite literally inside your body.”

“How does that even work? And how haven’t you shriveled up like a prune yet? Like you’re so old?” You were very confused.

“I have a good skincare routine.” Sukuna sniffed. You laughed.

“You know I imagined my soulmate to be a grumpy man with an old soul but you turned out to be a grumpy old man with an even older soul.” You giggled.

“I'm not that old, okay?” He grumbled. “How old are you again?” You questioned.

“I stopped counting after 300.” You burst into a fit of giggles.

“Does that mean you're a gilf? Like you're so old.” “Well, I tried to keep myself alive for you and what does gilf mean?” He inquired in confusion.

“Grandpa I’d like to fuck.” You snorted.

He groaned, “That is the dumbest thing I’ve heard. I’ve never had children so how can I be a grandpa?”

“Well, you have that aura.” You spoke, trying to muffle your laugh. “You cheeky brat.” Sukuna huffed.

[kawkawsrii]

boruto era kakashi + godaime obito idea (with a ghostbito addition for the sillies)

omg guys hear me out, boruto era Kakashi getting into some shenanigans with a scroll and accidentally dimension traveling to a world where Obito is hokage and needs some help (minato, rin, and kushina r still kicking dwdw). I think in this other world, Obito would be the Godaime, he’s a little bit into the job- but still it’s new to him and he needs some help w it- but he doesn’t want to bug Minato too much about it / Hiruzen is not there but when is he ever lmao (interpret that as he already dead or just ready to peace out in a hospital bed). I think this could be obkk, but it’s much more explicit in the ghostbito addition. Obkk is like two birds on a wire for me, regardless of whether they are platonic or romantic, they will be together and no I won’t shut up about them.

So… Obito decides he’s gonna try some- interdimensional guidance, through the power of bs / tobirama what the fuck / hey this is fanfic don’t take it to seriously / help a boyfailure out here / minato’s well intentioned advice turned into the best or worst idea yet (bro could have added “this just my opinion tho” 😭😭😭) obito has himself an interesting little project. He finds one of Tobirama’s secret, personal projects. A scroll that erases itself everyday. Just kidding, a scroll that can communicate with other worlds (one that was never finished in his world, but was in Kakashi’s). While Tobirama never finished it, he speculates that in another world- he did finish it and if the scroll were ever finished in Hokagebito’s world, communication w/ that other world would be possible. He asks Kushina for advice without mentioning the scroll directly and raises her eyebrow, but ultimately just tells him bc she trusts Obito. Oh boy… so he gets the scroll working. Well done genius. “But what if it’s not another hokage?” There’s no harm in trying. Plus- the other person doesn’t NEED to know he’s the godaime- and worst comes to worst, he can just go RIPPPPP to that sucker lmao.

“Hey who this?” - Godaime. Nah im kidding, he writes a formal letter to the other side explaining that he completed Tobirama’s scroll, that he wants to see if it worked, that he needs… a friend. (Leaving out the fact that he’s the godaime)

Now, Kakashi gets the scroll in a very unique situation. Moreso- Tsunade gifted it to him on one of his birthdays (bc sakumo hung around w the sannin a lot) and was like “ur kid a little genius right, maybe he can figure out what this is for” bc Tobirama in Kakashi’s world never specified what it was for (or if he did, the note fell off). He’s never cared about it beyond “oh this was made by the second hokage!” (if u follow into the Tobirama is Kakashi’s grandpa theory, it’s a nice nod to his grandpa, I actually really like this head canon but I think I’ll leave it out of here). But it’s blank. Did Tsunade just-… gift him a blank scroll because the second hokage once touched it? For the next 30-40 years of his life, thats what Kakashi thinks and admittedly it’s really funny (and sweet in a way), so he keeps it on a shelf and looks at it whenever he needs to remember the simpler days.

And then, one day, the blank scroll has some writing on it.

Oh. It was- for talking with someone from another world? Okay… Kakashi’s seen weirder, still weird, but weird in a way he can somewhat comprehend. So he writes something on the other half of the scroll, and pretends that it doesn’t resemble Obito’s horrid writing (because what the hell?).

On the flip side, Obito is ecstatic, because it worked! Whoever wrote to him, must also be a hokage right? So he asks, “how did you get this scroll?”

“A friend gifted it to me”

“… you’re friends with the NIDAIME?” He has to be someone important then right?

“Not exactly.” Okay then, if he has the scroll, he has to be the current hokage. Because how could Tobirama let this scroll fall into just anyone’s hands?

“Who’s the hokage in your world?”

“Who’s the hokage in yours?” Wow, okay… and then “How many have there been in yours?”

“Five”

“Seven”

And so on. It’s like an online friendship in a way, except they’re chatting with someone worlds away. Eventually, Obito begins asking for advice (advice that’s thinly veiled as work advice (really it’s hokage work but he tries to mask it as something else)). Not because he knows the other was the Rokudaime, but because the other has become a bit of a… friend. Kakashi however, sees through this and when something only a hokage understand slips, confronts Hokage Obito “You’re the Godaime”

“Ah. Was it… obvious?”

“For the Rokudaime, yes.”

Oh. Obito becomes even more excited, and they begin signing off on their letters with Godaime and Rokudaime. Obito assumes that this Rokudaime is younger than him and apologies for asking so much advice (because if he’s the Rokudaime, the Obito in that world must have retired now). It’s just- this Rokudaime is so wise, knowledgeable, a bit of a know it all… reminds him of Kakashi. (Kakashi who he misses with all his heart, who should have been there to watch him become Hokage, who should have been there to help him with the damn papers.)

(Kakashi, whose death weighs on him heavier than any boulder).

Either way, he lets his age slip one day. On the other side, Kakashi just laughs “No, you’re younger. The kids over here have started calling me old man. How rude.” It goes on like that for a little longer. A few months into it, Minato, Rin, and Kushina find out what he’s been doing. They tease him of course, but they also worry. Obito says there’s nothing to be worried about, but still it’s some stranger right? On occasion, Rin watches as Obito writes to the stranger and wonders who could be on the other side. Kushina is worried but also upset that Obito never told her about his success! This is huge! How could he not tell her!? Minato is proud, worried, and calming down Kushina who goes on a tangent. One day, they decide to all see one of Obito and mysterious Rokudaime’s chats themselves. In some freak accident, there’s a bright glow. And then Obito’s gone, with only the scroll. Kushina obv begins to reverse engineer that crap to bring back Obito-

On the other side, Obito finally meets his inter dimensional pen pal.

What the fuck.

“YOU’RE THE ROKUDAIME?” “Obito?” That shuts him up really quickly, because Obito hasn’t heard Kakashi’s voice in such a long time. Aside from that, he’s never heard it in such a tone. “How?” Obito asks, “Was this a bet between us? Congratulations- I feel bad for this version of me though-” Kakashi makes some sad sound at that, his brows kind of furrow in a way that make’s Obito’s stomach twist. Obito can’t help but run up to this Kakashi and hug him. It’s not… too weird right? Technically they’re friends. And technically they did know each other! So, they sit on the blanket of grass, a bright clear blue sky day that Kakashi has decided to enjoy under a tree and one of jiraiya’s pervy novels??? They talk for a minute, two, three, then for about an hour until Obito can feel himself being pulled back. Before he is, he apologizes. For everything, for burdening Kakashi, for making him save Rin, for letting Kakashi fall apart, and for… Kakashi’s death.

Kakashi is in shock, but he assures Obito that… if it was him, truly him, then he had no problems with it.

When Obito returns to his world, he returns a little bit more confident, but also… he returns with tears in his eyes. Happy. Sad. Hopeful.

“I saw him. The Rokudaime. I saw Kakashi.”

Now… I could end this here. And, if you like leaving it at that, then it ends with the scroll being destroyed as a result of Kushina’s interference to bring Obito back. HOWEVER- if u like ghostbito / actual, solid not up to interpretation obkk have I got a pitch for u

GHOSTBITO IDEA

The scroll isn’t destroyed, rather, it gains a new attribute. Being able to travel between worlds, and when Obito is yanked back… so is Kakashi. Whoopsies! Cue, really really emotional scene, omg Kakashi grew up! OMG KAKASHI BECAME HOKAGE- and also cue, Obito showing Kakashi around his Konoha (which is sort of the same, but with many differences. For one, the Uchiha are still around. For two, Minato, Kushina, and Rin are alive. For three, Obito was Team 7’s sensei). Yeah it’s sort of a date, but Obito won’t admit that and Kakashi is oblivious bc free vacation (out of Obito’s salary).

When it’s time for Kakashi to go back, they decide. Maybe, they’ll keep seeing each other, keep being friends. Now they’re not, exactly each other’s Kakashi and Obito, but they can be new friends instead. A new introduction is needed, so they reintroduce themselves. Okay now, Ghostbito is def still looking out for Kakashi. Yeah he’s enjoying the afterlife w/ Rin, ofc, but sometimes… he can’t help but take a peak into Kakashi’s life. Now, seeing that Kakashi had a pen pal was exciting, fun even. Until he sees who the pen pal was, and until he (who’s attached to Kakashi) is also dragged into the dimension travel. Because NO! Kakashi is his teammate! That Obito is not him! It’s childish and Obito has 100% stopped being like that ages ago, but also he can’t help it. That Obito didn’t give Kakashi his eye, he did.

And he sees it, the things Kakashi misses, the way this Obito blushes around Kakashi like how he did around Rin all those years ago. The way this Obito offers his hand in jest (but not really) to drag Kakashi to all of his favorite spots. The way Kakashi looks happy-, oh. Kakashi looks happy. Who is he to ruin that for Kakashi? No, he won’t. Not again. And it’s not like he has beef with Kakashi… no, he has beef with… himself??? Well, he has beef with this Obito!!!

Cue, Godaime Obito getting haunted as ghostbito starts beefing w/ himself from another world. Both of whom, have feelings for Kakashi albeit only one of them can actually pursue him. I think Ghostbito wants Kakashi to move on, but like… NOT LIKE THIS 😭😭😭 in his opinion it’s like a downgrade like why couldn’t Kakashi just be w literally anyone else? Gai, Iruka, Anko, Yamato, Mei, Shizune- literally anyone else!!!

Feel free to add on, I just had a crack idea and began to roll with it. This also led me to another idea, but instead of Ghostbito and Godaimebito beefing it’s Jonin/about to be Godaime Obito and Post-war Obito beefing (w similar plot points being the dimension travel). I just think Obito having beef w every alternate self he encounters is really funny, that man doesn’t play, especially if it’s about his teammates like 😭😭😭 also the idea of Joninbito AU! Obito and Kakashi meeting Postwar AU Obito and Kakashi is funny, I’ll write it later methinks

[quibbs126]

so I heard that you allow oc x canon fankids.. so erm, would you mind making a fankid for my oc Sour Butter Cookie and Dark Choco cookie?? no pressure though!

Sour Butter (they/them) was raised in the St. Pastry Order along with Pastry Cookie, however, after seeing the true intentions of the order and seeing the manipulation and indoctrination of young cookies by the order, they decided to leave the order in secret. They tried to convince Pastry Cookie to come with them, but Pastry Cookie wanted them to stay in the order together, so Sour Butter had no choice but to leave without her. Sour Butter Cookie now runs a "church" that serves as some sort of hospital and refuge for cookies, devoting themselves to helping cookies that feel under the false teachings of the St.Pastry Order. I ship them with Dark Choco bc they both are my precious little blorbos🥺🥺

I finished faster than I normally do, but here’s Butter Fudge Cookie

Okay, so I have to admit right off the bat, I didn’t really know anything about Sour Butter when I went to make her. I know I like the pictures, and I try to keep up to date with the designs if I know the artist who made them, but I don’t usually take the time to read them, I’m sorry. All I really knew was they were connected to the St Pastry but weren’t part of it, and the pictures gave me shady vibes

Also note for others that this is true of basically every OC that gets requested. I usually either have only seen them in the ask or I’ve haven’t taken the time to read their descriptions. Pretty much all I know about them is what is provided in the ask, so if the ask doesn’t have a description, I am only operating off of vibes from the design. And sometimes I don’t realize the asks have a description attached until I’m done. Sorry about that

Anyways, I got to the ask to post her, and I saw Sour Butter had a short blurb attached, and when I went and reread that I realized her vibe didn’t match, so I did a quick change of her character to better match. And also slight design tweak

Anyways, so on to Butter Fudge, so she lives in the church with her parents. She can be sweet and help out around the place, but also she can be a bit mischievous sometimes. Ever since she was a kid, she knew her parents and those around her consider her cute, and she sometimes will use that to either get away with things or do stuff she isn’t really supposed to. She usually doesn’t get herself into too serious of messes, but know that there may be shenanigans you didn’t sign up for if you engage with her

I’d say she’s somewhere in her teenage years right now. She’s not a kid (because I didn’t design her that way), but she isn’t entirely old enough to realize she probably shouldn’t use her charms to get her way

She visits her grandpa on occasions and she dresses more Dark Cacaoian since she just likes their style

Anyways, that’s about it for Butter Fudge. It’s not really much, but she’s got some character

Now on to her name. I don’t entirely know what butter fudge (or more accurately it seems, cookie butter fudge) is, but it was because of the two parts of the names. I wanted something that incorporates both chocolate and butter, and I remembered “oh yeah, fudge is commonly associated with chocolate, maybe there’s some kind of butter fudge” and lo and behold. Also, it’s a light brown color, which I thought was a good in between

Cookie butter fudge:

So I'm gonna be honest, I'm not too sure about her hair. It was what was giving me trouble in the rough sketch up top left, and all I really had was "symmetrical, but also not all over the place". Maybe she needs longer hair or something, I'm not sure. I think it looks better in the little sketch though

To be honest, there isn't really much to say on the design front. She has browns because the fudge was light brown and it works with it. She has squares because fudge is square shaped

I do wonder if maybe she should have had some contrasting color somewhere, since her design is pretty much all shades of brown/orange, but I don't know where or what. She did originally have some light blues from Sour Butter, but I thought the yellows worked better

Overall I think her design's fine, it works. Though I do feel like she doesn't live up to the bangers that are some of my other OC x canon fankids

And yeah, that's Butter Fudge, I hope you enjoy her

[charmedreincarnation]

My shift to attack on titan

To start, I shifted to where I was 8. I was born and raised in wall maria (shigashina) with armin eren and mikasa and I spent most of my days with them. I could not imagine the bond you could have with people other than your family until I went here.

First I want to reminisce abt my besties 🥰

Armin is the sweetest smartest friend anyone could ask for. He also hums and sings which makes sense because he is the narrator of aot in this reality. He also writes journals about things he learns and things he wants to see and tells us we are going to go together. I am so lucky to be friends with someone so Sweet smart charming and caring. no words can describe my friendship with him. It was so interesting hearing his stories about his beliefs and ambitions . He was certainly humble when discussing his theories and made sure to include all of us in them.

His heart is so big I still don’t know how it fits in his dainty body. His family is poor and he helps his grandpa cultivates potatoes. Even so when he met my mother for the first time he gave us a weekends worth as a thank you gift for all the snacks I bring to our daily hangouts. Of course my mother did not want to take them as we are definitely more well off than his family but he insisted. This was met with my mother giving them two weeks of fruits, vegetables and meat, which we had to beg for him to take.

His lack of athleticism is also pretty funny. It’s not like we do anything too heart wrenching but he has horrible stamina for our age. The race to the tree goes as follows: eren winning because mikasa is letting him by enough to help his ego, then mikasa, then typically me carrying armin because he gets too tired after a while. I still make sure he wins though.

Mikasa is my first friend that’s a girl. There isn’t any school or activities to meet new people around my age, so the only people I knew were my family until I met eren and armin. Then I met mikasa. She’s kind of shy yet brave when she needs to be. She made me a doll when eren introduced us to her and I didn’t know she could be so crafty. Yes she’s clingy with eren buts she’s super protective with everyone she cares about including me. Our mothers are also both from persecuted clans and we share the same hymn that our mothers taught us, the same sigil tattoo of sorts our parents gave us, so with that alone our bond is unbreakable. We have become armin and erens first line of defense, we both have protective nature and are always stronger when fighting for our loved one. I can’t wait to have someone like her for my entire life by my side

She is a stoic and composed girl who tends to keep her emotions in check. Those close to her recognize her incredible strength and courage in even the most dire of circumstances. She is loyal and brave, ever willing to put her own safety on the line for those she holds dear.

At the same time, Mikasa does have moments of vulnerability. She is immensely sensitive to criticism and has difficulty accepting praise. Despite her impressive fighting ability and hard work which we all have seen..there are times when she feels she isn’t living up to expectations. So yea she’s is a complex person, but one thing that never changed about her, is her sense of justice and unwavering commitment to her loved ones. She is both a formidable friend and a leader. She is able to make tough decisions in even the most difficult of situations.

Then theres my boy Eren 💀💀he is an amazing daring friend. He’s the one I’ve known the longest. My mother was a nursing aid in the hospital, erens dad worked at before she got married and he is now our doctor as well! I didn’t meet him until I was about 6ish or 7 and we he started coming to his visits with his dad and we instantly clicked and we were each other’s first friend! Then we met armin together and he met mikasi and the rest is history. He would do anything for the people he cares about and though sometimes I want him to slow down and think for a second but that’s not something he does. He acts on what he thinks and I almost respect how impulsive he is. It doesn’t matter because mikasi and I will always be there to make sure he doesn’t die.

I also want to talk about my family.my relationship with my family in this reality still rings bells in my heart. My mother and uncle whom I live with are a reflection of grace and kindness embodied into people. My mother is absolutely beautiful and everyone tells me I have her eyes, which is the nicest thing I hear all the time. She is kind, beautiful, strong and everyt good thing I do I was taught by my mother. She amazes me every day with her grace and beauty. She has been the bravest and kindest role model to me, and for that I am grateful to be her daughter. Her strength and courage has inspired me in many ways, and I will always be thankful for everything she does. She sings to me everyday and braids my hair while telling me good affirmations to build my strength. She always encourages me to say thank you when I am full because not everyone has the same blessing. She would tell me stories and fables every night and make me the main character incorporating moral lessons in each one to encourage me to be the best version of myself. She was very loving and kind with her words and actions, and soft technique in everything she does and for that I’m grateful. My uncle is of the same nature. Anytime I had a curiosity he would tell me stories and teach me everything he knows about the topic. If I had an interest the next day I would find a book of it on my desk. Books on specific topics are not a right but a privilege and how he got access to them I still do not know but restrictions never stopped him from getting me my desires. He would tell me I’m the smartest most beautiful girl in the world and I hope one day I’ll believe it. He is the kindest smartest man in my life and honestly armin reminds me of him, maybe why I love him so much. I also have a father who is a merchant and often travels, and though I do not agree with everything he does as he is more conservative, and closed minded he is still a great father, and for that I’m grateful. He does business with the royals and every trip back he would bring me sweets and treats that I would share with my friends. Chocolate with candy pieces and pecans/walnuts were my favorite. He would bring them in special arrangement and tell me to make this last until his next trip. It never happened and armin mikasi eren and I would eat them all in one setting until we couldn’t walk. Regardless I shifted here at a time I had a horrible relationship with my family and for a time anytime i would speak about my mother I was referring to her. I have now obviously manifested a better relationship with my family, but at a point, and I love and appreciate them but during my darkest hour, she was my real and only mother.

Also, As I expected was the food here was heavy on meat, beans, and grains, with little variety in terms of fruits and vegetables. This meant that the meals tended to be fairly bland – not exactly what I was used to. A common dish that I enjoyed was a stew made with chunks of beef and vegetables. It was slow-cooked for hours, which made it rich, flavorful, and comforting. The vegetables were often slightly sweet, which balanced out the salty flavor of the beef. But I mean we’re a locked up village trying to not get eaten alive by titans, so good diversity is the least of my problems.

But Y’all I honestly consider Shigashina as my realhome. My village is the epitome peaceful and idyllic. The scenery here is breathtaking. Rolling hills climb to reveal breathtaking views of the valley below, while nearby forests are a pleasing mix of vibrant green and warm autumn hues. The sun creeps through the clouds just enough to cast a golden hue on the village below, and the gentle breeze plays with tree branches and grassy fields.

It’s easy to feel like you’ve stepped back in time when you wander the streets of Shigashina. Streets of cobblestone pass between quaint houses while quaint shops and restaurants line the main thoroughfare. The village’s many windmills add to the charming atmosphere, their slow rotation creating a calm serenity.The nearby rivers and lakes bring life, with their gentle rippling and abundant fish. Beyond the village, pilgrims and adventurers journey the mountains to explore the region’s unique landscapes and mysterious secrets.

Of course, no discussion of Shigashina would be complete without mentioning its many festivals. Colorful parades, traditional dances, lively music – each celebration introduces a unique flavor to the village’s rich culture. For those that want to experience something truly unique, a visit during one of these festivals is a must. From its stunning landscape to its vibrant culture, Shigashina is truly a hidden gem in my experience.

In this void (cr)I could care less about nature but there, I am outside everyday the scenery, and it’s is breath taking. I miss being a kid. Getting to go everyday to our oak tree, and run around, race and play tag, while also reading and making flower crowns for each other . We yelled and screamed and played as children with no worries in the world, the euphoria and tranquillity I felt everyday, I did not even feel in this reality’s childhood and I cannot wait to go back and be free of stress. The market place is filled with people chatting, commerce and children running about. fruit and vegetables scent was in the the air and money rattling feels nostalgic to my eyes. It’s chaotic but in the most calming nostalgic way. I appreciate every aspect of my life, after coming back here and I cannot wait to leave here permanently and continue to experience my life the way it should be with people I love and love me, and to meet more people to fulfill my life.

My experience was amazing. Yes I haven’t endured any of the hardships yet since the fall of our town hasn’t happened and I haven’t joined the scout yet. I came here to spend my days with my friends and rest. I had no responsibilities and the bond I had with my family was untouchable. I know I will have a lot of trauma to prepare for, but everyone In my life is setting me up for success, and perseverance. all that matters is that I am loved and have people to fight for. With this said I can’t wait to meet my future friends and basically family members as I grow into the this home 🥰🥰

I know this isn’t aesthetic and it’s kind of boring but I didn’t go there for the action just yet, I just wanted to spend time with my friends, and family and have no responsibilities as I came here when I was super depressed. My other shifting stories are more fun 😻😻😻

[avatarrecom]

Family time

Word count: 348

A/N: This can be read as an Custody AU by @ao3gobi17 or as an Lost and found AU by @raving-raven-writing or however you want to read it.

My grandpa died recently and when I was jolting down some memories to send to my cousin who was going to give a speech at the funeral, I suddenly remembered these.

My two cousins, uncle, dad and grandpa used to use me as a throwing ball in the swimming pool when I was young. And there is a really cute picture of me, sitting of my cousins shoulders, while his was sitting on our oldest cousins shoulders.

Anyways, my therapist said that it would be a good idea to write something with these memories to process everything and I thought it would be cute to write this with young Spider.

My grandpa's funeral sucked by the way, my aunt had a heart attach during her speech and had to go to the hospital with an ambulance... At least now I have even more shitty things to talk about in therapy 👍🏻

Anyway, it's short and not my best work, but I hope ya'll enjoy!

Spider was flying! Well… not actually flying. It’s not like he suddenly grew wings and flew away, but he was flying anyway. For a couple seconds at least, until he landed in his uncle Lyle’s arms.

Uncle Lyle gave Spider a grin, before hoisting him in a different position so he could throw the boy in the air. Spider closed his eyes, while giggling madly. Then he was caught again, this time by his uncle Mansk. Even in the swimming pool in the basement of their huge house (of course they were in the swimming pool, nobody in their right mind would use a 6 year old boy as a football somewhere, god forbid, he could get hurt), uncle Mansk wouldn’t take his sunglasses off.

But anyway, since you’re probably wondering why a 6 year old boy is used as a football, the answer is very, very simple… It was sooo much fun! It was like he was actually flying, I mean how awesome is that! Daddy said that it was good exercise and much more fun than doing exercises with those boring machines. Which is true of course, Spider was much more fun than those machines, thank you very much.

Uncle Lyle had grabbed Spider after they’d been in the water for a while and had tossed him to uncle Fike, who in turn tossed him to uncle Lopez. Spider’s dad, other uncle’s and his aunties had joined in the game. Except for uncle Prager, who always worried about 12 rough, ‘macho’ (whatever that may mean) marines raising a six year old, but so far, Spider was loving it! Even though he missed his mommy since she went to heaven, he had gotten such a huge family!

Eventually, much to his dismay, Spider had to stop flying. But every one promised that he would be flying again soon! Instead, he got to be really, really tall! Even taller than uncle Ja, who’s the tallest.

Auntie Walker sat Spider on her shoulders and then she sat on uncle Mansk’s shoulders! They were so tall and it was awesome!

[bonniebird]

Michael Emerson x Fem!Reader

Requested by @shadowcatgirl09

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Request: shadowcatgirl09 asked: The second one is with Michael Emerson; can I get Michael with a female reader and the prompt This time I'll protect you. Even though you're a vampire, you're still my friend. Reader was a childhood friend of Michael's

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Michael sighed as he rearranged the blanket and hurried towards the house. He could see Sam and his friends hurtling towards the house on their bikes. 

“Did they ride all the way here?” Michael asked. Sam dumped his bike as he hurried up the porch and helped Michael inside.

“Nah. They hitchhiked. Couldn’t leave us hanging with a vampire problem.” Sam muttered as he hurried through the house. Michael headed upstairs while the two boys let themselves in and looked around. Alan followed Sam into the kitchen while Edgar followed Michael.

“You sure you want the bloodsucker in your house? You can’t be sure it’s a tame one like you were.” Edgar said in a grave voice. He’d grown taller since they’d left Santa Carla, and so had his brother. Sam too though he wasn’t as tall as the brothers. 

“You hurt (Y/N)...” Michael said dangerously. Edar threw up his hands in surrender and stepped down a few steps while Sam hurried into the hallway to give Edgar a drink from the fridge. 

“They won't do anything, Michael. They’re here to help with that vampire creep.” Sam assured his brother. Michael gave all three of them a hard stare and continued upstairs. He kicked his bedroom door open and hurried to put you down on the bed. He spent a few minutes making sure that no sunlight could get through the thin curtains and added a blanket from the airing cupboard on the landing to be sure. 

“Michael?” You said quietly. He turned to you and cautiously hurried to the side of the bed he’d put you on and crouched down.

“Are you ok?” He asked. You shook your head and sighed.

“My throat hurts.” You admitted. Michael winced and thought about the burn of hunger he could remember. 

“Yeah… but you know Sam’s friends are here to help. They were mildly helpful last time.” He said and you gave a weak smile.

“Didn’t they figure out you were a vampire? I’d say that’s more than mild.” You mumbled. He chuckled a little and you cringed as the door burst open which lit up the semi-dark room and caused you to wince, raising a hand to cover your eyes.

“Sorry!” Sam said. You glared at the group that gathered around you.

“Have you killed anyone?” One of them asked. Lowering your hand you found them all holding wooden stakes that were tapered into a point at the end.

“No.” You said firmly. They glanced at each other and nodded.

“Will you just leave us alone and find out who did this? We wrote down everything (Y/N) remembers.” Michael said as he pointed to scrap paper that the nurse from the hospital had given you so the two of you could note down what had happened. Michael had managed to get you out of the hospital while Sam spoke on the pay phone in the hallway to the brothers and hurried after him. Sam motioned for the brothers to follow him and they could be heard reading what Michael had written down for you through the door.

“You don’t have to do this.” You said quickly. Michael rolled his eyes as he got up to double-check that the curtains were blocking out enough light.

“Uhu. And you didn’t have to come to my house and fight a head vampire but you still did so you’re stuck with me.” Michael smiled at you and you huffed a little as he sat on the opposite end of his bed.

“I didn’t exactly do a good job at fighting though.” You said quietly. Michael chuckled and shrugged. 

“You still gave it your best shot. You protected me long enough to get the upper hand. I don’t think any of us expected my grandpa to come through the wall.” Michael smiled and glanced at you. His smile fell a little when he saw the way you squinted and pulled his blanket over your head even in the low-lit room. “This time I’ll protect you. Even though you’re a vampire, you’re still my friend.”

Tag list:

@the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn

[wonhes]

🦉Positivity owl reporting for duty! This was sent by a friend who wants you to smile as much as your posts make them smile. Please list five things that make you unique, four things you are super passionate about and why, OR three of your favorite memories. Feel free to send the owl to those who you feel deserve to smile🦉

i got this and i think briizes could use a lot of positivity and little distractions right now so i hope this helps 🫶

oh my goodness 🥹

— 5 silly things that make me unique

○ i’m first gen!

○ i was born in mexico but was not raised there :/

○ my government name is very much rare/uncommon and people fight for their lives trying to pronounce it 😁👍

○ i’m the only one in my family with curly hair 😍

○ um random but i have a birthmark on my elbow and it’s passed down. my mom has the same one but on the back of her neck 😭

— 4 silly things i’m passionate about

○ public health

○ seunghan’s return 😡

○ yeonjun

○ sohee

— my favorite memory

○ i know it said OR 3 memories but i would like to share my favorite memory. on oct 14, 2023 i was getting ready to attend a wedding and facetimed my parents to show them my makeup/ dress. i didn’t know they were at the hospital visiting my grandpa until they gave him the phone and i saw him laying down on a bed with a hospital gown on. he took the phone and smiled so brightly while whistling at me, telling me how beautiful i looked and to have so much fun. that was the last conversation i had with my grandpa before his passing. that’s my favorite memory. :(

[etherealjellyfishgirl]

OKIE MAVERICK MY STREET LORE TIME!!!!

mavericks life was tricky

her mother divorced her father after she was born

She didn’t want a daughter but she liked the attention she got when she was pregnant

so after she had the kid she left her husband and divorced him

So she grew up knowing her mother didn’t love her

her father was stressed trying to raise a daughter who was a werewolf

He didn’t even know his ex-wife was a werewolf

so he raised a young woman with needs he didn’t even know about

most of mavericks werewolf traits were learned in werewolf class

And she ended up being bullied allot

it was easy she had no idea about anything with her own body

she had a bad home life

with a dad with a bad coping mechanism

Alcohol

he was trying to sober up for his daughter

but he fell back on it allot bc of stress

so she would spend those days with her grandpa

and then maverick started developing chronic pains in her leg

she didn’t want to worry her father or grandpa

so at some point she just didn’t tell anyone

she toughed it out

She was also so very thin

she didn’t want to bother her father with asking for help making food

and didn’t want to ask for lunch money

so she was thin and pale to

One day she passed out in the middle of recess

BOOM SEVERE ANEMIA! Mixed with terrible leg pain and hunger!

At this point maverick looked like a werewolf version of the ring girl

So there she was

a tiny short thin pale 10 year old werewolf girl who was bullied with an alcoholic father in a hospital with anemia

her grandfather was fully willing to take care of her while her father got help

she told that nurse everything

so she got a pair of crutches a knee brace and to stay with her aunts and grandfather for a while

this was when she met vylad

a boy with short brown hair and dark green eyes who had 3 missing teeth and a missing finger (I’ll get to this in a different post)

They became quick friends

seeing each other a scary amount of times bc they were both in and out of hospitals so much

maverick due to health complications

Vylad due to health conditions and accidents

soon they found themselves in the Same Highschool

phoenix drop high

Which did not make life easier!

it got even worse! Haha…

She was a year ahead and so smart!

but was suddenly getting bullied for her body

the healthiest weight she’d been in years

But she happily ignored it

no one knew her story

no one…

soon she fell in love!

she ofc loved vylad but she didn’t want to ruin there friendship

so she met a boy

his name was Killian

You know how this story will end

She suddenly stopped talking to her friends

especially vylad

she stopped singing and dancing

and suddenly one day

disappeared…

vylad asked Killian if he knew what happened

“that —— broke up with me then disappeared”

he’d answer

later he found out that maverick actually got help

she wasn’t well mentally and Killian was making her feel worthless

along with the constant bullying

vylad fully understood

collage!

Maverick went to Meteli medical school

Where she became a doctor!

Her life was fairly calm at that time

other then the stress ofc

she was of course still friends with vylad

They were in a sort of relationship

soon he appeared on her doorstep smiling at her asking to come in

they started dating again

then got married

then had to kids

they were happy

Any questions?

[11queensupreme11]

Ever since I saw your ask on the mini series/one shots you were planning on making in the future, I saw one of them which suggested a potential one shot (or mini series) of a possible “No Curses AU”. I loved the idea so much that my mind just had to mess around and use my free time just to think of how the AU would look like in a world without curses. I swear, I didn’t have to waste my days like that for thinking about this idea so extensively and yet, here I am! This is just my own ideas on the AU and I thought I should share it with you since you were the one who inspired me to make my own “No Curses AU”.

So imagine this:

A “No Curses AU” where Yuji and Sukuna are twins (Sukuna’s the older brother). Their mother died during the birth process (I wonder how 👀) leaving their father and grandfather to take care of them until the father died not too long after from unaliving himself because of the tragedy of losing his wife. Ever since then, Yuji and Sukuna have been raised by their grandpa. Sukuna met Hime at night when they were both kids: he was taking a walk to get his mind off of things when he found Hime running away from some older drunk guys. She was annoying him so he beat up the drunk men and tried leaving but she stuck by him (Idk about u, but I’m getting some Sukuna and Shisui vibes from this 👀). She was all alone at night because she thought she could sneak away from her father when he’d be sleeping. Ever since then, Sukuna grew to like endure her staying by his side. (Hime’s parents are Sanyu and Susanoo in this btw). They used to go to the same school (with Yuji).

When the three of them turned 15, Yuji and Sukuna’s grandpa died in the hospital which left the twins a bit lost on where they should go right now (Yuji was saddened by their grandpa’s passing while Sukuna felt indifferent but did feel some kind of respect for the old man. Hime was there with the two to support them.)

Not long after that however, Hime decided to help the two twins into enrolling them to the new school she was going to be in: Tokyo Jujutsu High. After some pestering and begging from Susanoo, he begrudgingly recommended Yuji and Sukuna to the higher-ups to which they got accepted.

Now, they both attend Tokyo Jujutsu High where it’s a school for either elites, students that come from traditional old families, people with unique talents, people who worked hard to get there, or it’s either all of the above or one of them. As you can see, the system for enrolment is pretty unfair for some since others can simply be applied for being born in the right family while others have to work hard to get there. This creates discrimination and separates a lot of groups together.

Just like in the original universe, Jujutsu High is a place for the community and provides mediation, general support, education, and shelter. The buildings also visually are the same so nothing about the looks of the school has been altered. It’s location is also where it should be: it’s well hidden on Tokyo's outskirts, far and high in the mountains since it’s so exclusive.

The uniform system is the same as in the original universe as well: you can customize your uniform however you’d like by sending a request paper to the school, regarding them of how you’d like your uniform to look like for your satisfaction.

Tokyo Jujutsu High

The 1st year students are Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, Junpei Yoshino, and Hana Kurusu.

Megumi Fushiguro has been enrolled for his ancestral traditional roots.

Yuji Itadori got enrolled for his physique and inhuman stamina. He might become a professional runner.

Nobara Kugisaki for working hard with her grades in the countryside.

Junpei Yoshino for being recommended by Yuji. He aims to become a movie critic.

Hana Kurusu for mastering some music instruments. She wants to be a professional musician or even a conductor someday.

The 2nd year students are Maki Zenin, Toge Inumaki, Yuta Okkotsu, Sukuna Itadori, Mizuhime Uchiumi, Panda, and Uraume.

Maki Zenin, Toge Inumaki, Mizuhime Uchiumi, and Yuta Okkotsu have been enrolled for their ancestral traditional roots and individual talents. (The ones between these four who got recognized for their talents were Maki for mastering weapons, and Mizuhime for her impeccable swimming.)

Sukuna has been enrolled for his immense strength and intelligence. His future is looking….quite interesting (so fucking dark omg what-)

Uraume has been enrolled for their excellent cooking skills. Naturally, they are aiming to become a five star chef.

Panda is actually an AI that took the form of a panda. He’s mostly seen on a movable average-sized screen. His appearance has been based off of one of Yaga’s dolls. He was made to learn more about the potential of artificial intelligence.

(I really didn’t wanna exclude Panda from this since he’s one of my favourites so I had to improvise lol. Also, Toge can’t speak in this au. He just interacts with writing on paper or uses sign language for people like Megumi who know how to understand it.)

The 3rd year students are Kinji Hakari, Kirara Hoshi, Hajime Kashimo, Choso, Haruta Shigemo, and Yorozu.

Kinji Hakari got enrolled for his talent in dancing. He’ll be a professional dancer.

Kirara Hoshi got enrolled for being an amazing fashion designer and stylist.

Hajime Kashimo and Choso have been enrolled for their ancestral traditional roots.

Haruta Shigemo has been enrolled for….being lucky.

Yorozu has been enrolled for her intelligence (albeit a very stubborn one) and her immense knowledge for insects and how she plans on using them for the future.

(She’s a nudist but the school strictly, and understandably, doesn’t allow her to be naked so she’s forced to wear the basic jjk uniform *the same one Nobara wears*. She only wears the white shirt and skirt though. She won’t allow anything else. Yes, that means she walks around barefoot even during winter 💀.)

Since the students have different talents and projects they’d like to engage in, the school has teachers who help them sharpen up their skills in order to use what they have for the future.

All of the teachers have been hand selected by the higher-ups above Yaga (which is why the teachers are all past students but Yaga doesn’t complain about that. It leaves him less trouble to explain how the school works compared to if the higher-ups did in fact hire teachers who have never been students here before lol).

Some students, depending on what they’re good at, have managers to help them deal with what they’d like to do for the future. The student can choose the manager they’d like since they’ll stick with them for their whole school years.

(*the managers used to be students who learned how to specifically become managers for other future students*)

The principal for Tokyo Jujutsu High is Masamichi Yaga (passionate doll and puppet maker).

The teachers for Tokyo Jujutsu High are:

Satoru Gojo (professional model) teaches the 1st year students.

Atsuya Kusakabe (detective) teaches the 2nd year students.

Nanami Kento (business man) teaches the 3rd year students.

Kiyotaka Ijichi (manager)

Akari Nitta (manager)

Yu Haibara (manager)

Takuma Ino (side manager)

Shoko Ieiri (doctor) takes care of the students if they have severe or even minor injuries.

Kyoto Jujutsu High

The 1st year students are Arata Nitta, Ranta Zenin, Rin Amai, Remi, and Iori Hazenoki.

Arata Nitta got enrolled for his impressive coordination and teamwork. He’d like to become a manager for Kyoto Jujutsu High.

Ranta Zenin got enrolled for his ancestral traditional roots.

Rin Amai got enrolled for his gambling games. He’s likely turn out to become a game maker.

Remi got enrolled for her beauty model pictures she took. She’s learning to become an influencer.

Iori Hazenoki got enrolled for boxing. He aims to become a professional boxer in a ring.

The 2nd year students are Mai Zenin, Kokichi Muta, Kasumi Miwa, Noritoshi Kamo, Aoi Todo, and Momo Nishimiya.

Mai Zenin, and Noritoshi Kamo have been enrolled for their ancestral traditional roots.

Kokichi Muta has been enrolled for his robotic engineering.

Aoi Todo has been enrolled for his workouts and trainings.

Momo Nishimiya and Kasumi Miwa have….worked A LOT to get here.

The 3rd year students are Naoya Zenin, Takako Uro, Ryu Ishigori, and Charles Bernard.

Naoya Zenin has been enrolled for his ancestral traditional roots.

Takako Uro has been enrolled for modelling. She has the looks and body for it.

Ryu Ishigori has been enrolled for his sweet tongue and aims to become a professional taster.

Charles Bernard has been enrolled for his art. He’s aiming to become a mangaka.

The principal for Kyoto Jujutsu High is Yoshinobu Gakuganji (perfects in electric guitar music).

The teachers for Kyoto Jujutsu High are:

Mei Mei (freelancer) teaches the 1st year students.

Utahime Iori (song and poetry writer) teaches the 2nd year students.

Yuki Tsukumo (explorer) teaches the 3rd year students.

As for the relationships in this au, GOD DAMN THERE’S SO MUCH DRAMA-

For one, Sukuna and Yuji DO NOT get along with each other. Since they’re twins and all, people generally assume that they get along very well, when in reality they can’t stand one another. While Yuji has great friends like Megumi, Nobara, Junpei, Hana, and the rest of the 2nd year students, Sukuna doesn’t have any friends and is perfectly satisfied without the need to have some. The only one who he usually hangs around or becomes chattier than usual with is with Hime. Mizuhime is Sukuna’s childhood (and only) friend (who he also somehow convinced after junior school that they should be ‘friends with benefits’ to which Hime surprisingly agreed). She’s the only exception and Sukuna plans on keeping it like that forever. When she’s around other students, Sukuna just boredly entertains himself to pass the time or just listens from one ear to what Hime’s talking about with the others. He also only talks to other people if he has to or if he’s looking to get something from them. Another exception to his private circle, is Uraume. They are exceptional at cooking so Sukuna usually keeps them around even when Hime’s there. Uraume doesn’t mind cooking for Sukuna when they want to since they admire the guy. In short, Yuji’s friend group consists of the 1st year students and the 2nd year students, while Sukuna’s “friend” group consists of Hime and Uraume.

Of course, just like Tsunami and Bloodflood, the yandere circle does not change so Hime will STILL have a hard time dealing with the suitors even if this is a “No Curses AU” since they’ll all attend her school 💀

Except that there are some additional relationships here and there:

1. Hana is into Megumi but Megumi is into Yuji and Hime.

2. Sukuna and Yuta are into Hime but they’re both in the same class (rip Hime….)

3. Yorozu is into Sukuna but Sukuna is into Hime.

4. Yuji has a secret crush on Hime but Sukuna is aware of it. He loves to hurt him by having some fun with Hime since she and him are “friends with benefits” now. (But as much as Sukuna keeps saying that about his and Hime’s relationship, he actually does have deep feelings regarding her and doesn’t just see their relationship as a way to mess around.)

5. Uraume deeply respects Sukuna but often wonders why he likes having Hime around.

6. Gojo is into Hime and Geto (Geto quit any connection to the school) but since Geto isn’t in the school with him anymore and doesn’t teach like him, Gojo gets to see Hime more 💀

7. Choso and Hajime are into Hime but they’re both in the same class…. (rip Choso 😭)

So yeah, Hime….Good luck 👹

(before i start, how on earth did you manage to send such a long asks, whenever i try to send ppl long asks, i get cut off after like.... 5 sentences 💀 is it because i use anon mode???)

this is probably the BEST (and longest) ask i have ever gotten.... like, ever. i don't think i've ever gotten an ask this good 🥹

MY FAVORITE PART IS THAT THERE SOME PARALLELS BETWEEN THIS AU AND THE ORIGINAL. mizuhime running away from a creep and meeting sukuna that way = shisui running away from a tiny cursed spirit and falling face first in front of sukuna 😂

your entire au gives me such kdrama vibes, idk how to put it. it lowkey reminds me of boys over flowers with poor girl (sukuna) getting sent to an extremely elite school cuz she helped out a rich kid (mizuhime). the clear divide between the school elites and the ones who got into the school through hard work alone.... every time i think of a no curse AU, i ALWAYS imagine sukuna as the poor dude, rags to richest guy 😂 like, he starts out poor and looked down on but through sheer grit (and violence) he climbs up until HE'S at the top of the hierarchy and you've covered that perfectly 😩👌

THE HAREM VIBES TOO AHHHHHHHH

i'm sorry but despite the yandere harem in this au, i HAVE to ship sukuhime. the story and background you made for them is just waaaaay too good. i bet you sukuna totally found a way to get gojo-sensei arrested for pedophilia for his obvious attraction to his student (mizuhime) 💀

AND IMAGINE IF YUTA AND MIZUHIME GOT ARRANGED INTO A MARRIAGE SO SHE HAD TO STOP THE FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS THING SHE AND SUKUNA HAVE GOING ON ANDAEHFAUFGVAUYF

AND I LOVE HOW YOU ADDED YOROZU LMAOOO THANK YOU FOR THAT, SHE'S HILARIOUS I REALLY LOVE HER

this whole AU you thought up is so perfect i love you and ur big brain omg 💖

(there's only one thing i gotta ask... shouldn't sukuna and yuji not be twins tho??? you put them as twins but yuji and sukuna are in different years???)

[themultifandomgal]

Matt Casey- Fight For Us Pt1 (rewritten)

YN and Matt have been married now for 5 years. They have a little girl together who is the spitting image of YN, but has her dads mannerisms . They love one another, they truly do, but after their best friend Andy Darden died they drifted apart. YN Andy and Severide all went to school together. They've known each other since kindergarten and been best friends since. Matt really struggled with the loss of his Andy, blamed himself for his death, your best friends death, which led to pushing his wife away.

Things have been getting better for the pair and for the first time in 2 months they are finally in a good place again. Of course they're both still dealing with the loss of one of their best friends but they know that together they will get through it.

"I wish you and Kelly would sort out what's going on between you both" I sigh washing up the breakfast bowels while mine and Matts 5 year old daughter is getting ready for school

"Yeah well he's blaming me for Andy's death"

"I know and I'll speak with him, but we were best friends. All wanted to go through the academy together. If it wasn't for my asthma I wouldn't be a paramedic"

"The best paramedic" I pass the bowels to Matt to dry and raise my eyebrows

"Dont change the subject. Look all I'm saying is Kelly is angry, upset, hell we all are, but he needs to blame someone and if it's not you it will be himself. At least you can take it"

"Momma I'm ready" Ella calls from the hallway

"I'm coming" I call back "I'll drop Ella off at school. I'll see you in a bit" I peck Matt on the lips and turn to move, but before I can get to our daughter he pulls me back to him

"We're good aren't we?" he asks looking into my eyes

"Course we are" I give him another kiss then leave the house with Ella.

Almost immediately after I arrive at the firehouse we're on a call, a huge car accident has happened. I run over to one car where there's a little girl inside just a little older than Ella

"Hi sweetie I'm YN. Can you tell me your name?" I ask

"Madeline"

"Ok, listen, Madeline, I want you to see if you can

turn your head toward me" the little girl does as I ask. She has a huge gash on the side of her head. Once the mom is out I jump into the car through the drivers side "hey, your going to be ok"

"It's dumping gas" mouch shouts as the car in front starts to flam. Madeline starts to whimper

"We're ok. Look my partners coming now to help me get you out" Leslie opens up the door and starts to move the little girl out

"Wait. Her jugular" I take out my stethoscope "Muffled heart sounds.It's Becks triad" I give Leslie a worried look as she picks Madeline up

"Come on, sweetie" Leslie puts Madeline in the back of the ambo. I jump in with her while Leslie shuts the doors and speeds towards Med.

Thankfully we get her to the hospital in time.

"Was the little girl ok?" Ella asks

"Yes luckily she was"

"My momma and daddy are superhero's" this makes me chuckle. I glance at her in the mirror, she's sat in her car seat swinging her feet with a huge smile on her face. I pull up the the fire house when Ella asks "will grandpa be here?"

"Yes angel he will" I reply turning the car off and jumping out. I open up the car door and help her out of her seat

"And daddy?"

"Yes and daddy and uncle Kelly"

"Daddy and uncle Kelly don't like each other any more. Why?" Ella asks taking my hand in hers as we walk past the trucks

"They do like each other, it's just their jobs make it a little harder to be friends. Remember Kelly was my best friend before I met daddy"

"And uncle Andy" she stops and points to a picture we now have up of him. I lift her up into my arms

"Yes and uncle Andy"

"I miss him momma"

"I know, so do I. And. So does uncle Kelly and daddy. Which is why they are having a little argument now" I place a kiss on her forehead when I hear a familiar voice

"YN you best hurry up, Casey's cooking" Severide says smiling with hands on his hips

"Uncle Kelly!" Ella practically jumps out of my arms and into her godfathers arms

"You hungry little one?"

"Yes! Momma can we have some food?"

"Yes angle. Course we can" I follow behind Severide and see Matt behind the kitchen counters. Dad, also known as chief Boden gets up from the table and walks over to me giving me a hug "hi dad"

"I'll bring a plate over for you and one for Ella" Matt says to me grabbing 3 plates. Severide places Ella down and she runs holding my dads hands to sit next to him. I then watch the awkward interaction between Severide and my husband. Not only is Matt blaming himself for Andy's death, but so is my best friend. I look over at my dad for some guidance, but he just sighs and gives me a small smile

"I bet uncle Andy would have wanted us to all be friends" the room falls silent. Trust the child to make everyone uncomfortable. I watch as Severide takes an orange and walk out of the room "momma did I upset uncle Kelly"

"No angel. He'll be ok"

Later that evening were called out during the night to a building fire. Matt and Herrmann both are knocked out during their search but thankfully Kelly manages to get them both out with the help of the others. So the rest of our shift was spent in the emergency room waiting to hear how Herrmann is doing since he was worse off.

[charlieslowartsies]

the reason why my August vacation is so important...

This is a long, kinda emotional for me journal <3

As I mentioned a while ago, I was splitting my usual two weeks in June of debauchery (sleeping & laying in the sun & hiking in the woods outback lol) into one week last month and then saved the last week for the end of August.

I also wanted to explain the significance of this trip! Less about having to justify my time off and more about 'eeee excite omg!' and wanted to share with y'all!

SO a long time ago when I was a wee Charlie, from age 0 up to 21, I was incredibly close to my grandparents on my mom's side. My nana died when I was 15, and while that took a huge toll on me, I was fortunate enough to have my grandpa till 21. These two people were absolutely second parents. My parents did a good enough job raising me, but they had huge fights and my father had anger issues and it caused a lot of wounds. These were the people I could always rely on, when I couldn't rely on my folks.

They lived 2 hours away on a wonderful lake in a lil tiny trailer over looking it. I spent weeks at a time there, even the occasional month. I learned to swim in that lake, which in hindsight prolly wasn't the safest idea due to its depth, and grew up to be obsessed with swimming. Learned how to sail, ski, fish. Learned how to bake, tend a garden, how a fresh bowl of fruit in the morning should be before breakfast.

We'd swim 3x a day, sometimes just to float and cool down before bed, since there was no a/c and the summer nights were hot. Laid on our backs and counted stars like the Lion King. Fried trout on the grill after we'd caught them, had watermelon seed spittin' contests. My grandpa grew pumpkins and carved my name into one, so that the writing grew bigger and bigger over the months. I had one pumpkin live from September to April.

My handprint is on the last cement step leading down to the beach. It was eroded when we scattered my grandpa's ashes in 2014, but I remember where it was, how to place my palm to compare.

I guess I'd say I had a mixed childhood of various great, good, bad, and horrible things. Like most people, yanno? But those golden summer days on the lake were 100% a part of who I am today, and where my many of my happiest memories come from.

Due to me being in college, cost to heat the place in winter when they had no intention of living there, my family sold the property on the lake to an investor who planned to rent it out.

This was 2014. The same year he died, the same year my horse died (within 2 months of each other) and one of my father's many health issues landed him in the hospital from Oct to Dec, so that he spent xmas on an iv stand. With everything going on, we had no time or money for a big dinner, or presents that year.

I guess that was the first year I realized childhood was truly and officially over, and it was time to grow up. Many of us have that marked moment on our life.

Time passed. I finished college, went back home after turning down a few out of state jobs to spend time with my dad, who I had a feeling didn't have much time left. Turned out I was right, as I came home in 2015 and he died in 2022. There was an accident in '16 where he almost bled to death on our kitchen floor, but I was able to provide pressure/medical care and give him some more years.

Shortly after we moved in 17, I was notified that the house on the lake had been rented to someone who unfortunately had a lot of issues mental health wise, and they had eventually abandoned the property. It sat, rotting, and got so covered on the inside in black mold the county leveled the place and destroyed it.

We had left it fully furnished due to the buyer's urging. Ancient, stunning mid century and older furniture from my great-great grandparents time. My nana's organ player. The rocker my mom and I sat in. And, frankly, to quote one of those popular songs, the house that built me was just gone.

I figured that was the end of it, and cried and got angry/sad and then moved on and just tried surviving as covid hit later on in the years.

Turns out, the man who rented it decided that wasn't going to happen again. He put a new trailer on the property, and rented it out for vacationing due to it's location. We didn't know this until I stumbled across it while daydreaming about a vacation on the lake that I missed it was a relative, one I could at least go back to for a few days. My heart skipped so many beats when I saw the address and paused, thinking there had to be come mistake. It wasn't.

Not only can I spend time on that property again (in a new house which honestly might be for the best) But turns out, for whatever reason, they kept the furniture separate and placed a few pieces into the new house. There's a photo of the rocker in the layout photos. The two level lamp they had is still intact and functioning. I booked the place for a week immediately.

It's expensive for me, but my girlfriend and I will make it work. (Certainly not like we have far to travel.) We're going to be there smack dab in the middle of my Grandfather's birthday. I haven't had a true, just-for-me vacation since 2015 when we went to a camping ground. The excitement I have for this is immeasurable.

The dock my Dad and Grandpa put in themselves is fixed up. The crumbled little cement step is still there with a tiny indent, where my 4 yr old hand was pressed. I am going back to this place, and going back in time for just a short while, to heal and have fun and be a whole mess of emotions. I never got to say good bye to my Nana or Grandpa.

But I can say goodbye to them now, and say 'hello again, old friend' to the lake, and the new little house that sits before it.

That is why i am so excited about august. I know I don't share personal things on here a ton, but I wanted to share this. Thank you for reading this far if you have, I appreciate it.

I hope you have a wonderful day and remember how important you are <3 And as always stay hydrated! -Charlie