#the more of these i do the better i get at them it makes me want to go back and re-do born to run because tbh those edits were Not It

[producedbysohyun]

Cuddling

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the people in squid games would cuddle you (separate)

Includes: Thanos, In-ho, Se-mi, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Jun-ho, Hyun-ju, Mi-na (non!squid game au)

Warnings: might be slightly suggestive at some points.

masterlist

a/n: I love writing these so much! I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I do!!

Thanos

Get ready to be crushed

Lays on-top of you

And does not let you get up for anything

“Let me get up for a second I-“

“No.”

While laying on-top of you he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck or chest

If you do end up getting up he whines until you lay back down

Type of Bf to use your butt or thighs as a pillow 😔✊

Randomly bites you

Has cute aggression 100%

Very deep sleeper

Moves so much in his sleep so if you guys fall asleep cuddling at least one of you is gonna be upside down when you wake up

Will give you pda anytime anywhere he does not care

I’m literally Dr. Seuss

In-ho

Not very big on cuddling

He tolerates it for you tho 😚

Even tho cuddling isn’t really his thing he LOVES when you sit on his lap

Especially when you’re facing him

Also likes when you lay on his chest

Literally just lets you cling to him and do whatever

Acts like he doesn’t care for it but we all know the truth

When he’s tired he just completely lets his guard down

That will probably be the only time he initiates cuddling

Other wise you’re kinda on your own 

Se-mi

Loves laying on your chest !!

Gives you neck kisses when she’s the big spoon 😏

Also a biter

Likes to have you on her lap

Touches your tummy while cuddling

you cannot stop her 😡

Clingiest Gf you can have !!

Takes every opportunity to hug you from behind and just stays like that for as long as possible

When you lay on her chest she likes to play with your hair

Another deep sleeper

Girl will not wake up for anything

If you are in bed with her you better be ready to never leave the bed again once she gets her hands on you

“Babe I need to get up”

“Five more minutessss”

Dae-ho

Most cuddly person ever

Big spoon !!

not so secretly likes being small spoon sometimes

Either rests his head on-top of yours or in your neck

If you guys fall asleep like that expect not to be getting up at all

Literally has a death grip on you

Lays his head on your thighs or chest pt.2

Will fall asleep immediately if you start playing with his hair 🙁

HATES sleeping without you

The lightest sleeper ever

If you softly shake him awake he will either have a dramatic mom reaction or he’ll just be confused asf

My babbyyyyyy

Myung-gi

Struggles to sleep if you aren’t next to him

Religiously the big spoon

He likes to put his hands up your shirt while cuddling and his excuse is

“My hands were cold 🙁”

“Damn right they are 😡”

Yaaaa we all know his real intentions ✊

Neck kisses pt.2 !!

Another one that uses your thighs as a pillow

Moves a lot in his sleep as well but stays holding you the whole time somehow

Loves you being on his lap pt.2

The type to rub your thighs while watching a movie or some sht😭😔🙁😭😡😔😔😡

I want him so bad

Gives you so much kisses !!

I need someone like him omg 😔

Jun-ho

Loves cuddling face to face if that makes sense 😭

Likes to hear about your day while just holding you

Listens intently and plays with your hair as you speak

He also enjoys when you lay on his chest

The weight of your body calms him down and he feels better knowing you’re safe in his arms

If he’s feeling extra vulnerable that day he’ll lay his head on your chest

Probably gets super exhausted after work sometimes so he just falls asleep the second he gets home

and when you join him in bed he immediately wraps his arms around you

Overall I don’t think he’d be to big on cuddling but he also wouldn’t mind

Hyun-ju

She’s just a big teddy bear

Especially when you’re alone with her

She isn’t too big on pda so in public she probably just sticks to holding your hand

But in private you’re getting cuddles, kisses, you name it

There will be a lot of giggling going around

Loves if you braid or play with her hair while cuddling

Lets you try out new hairstyles on her to see which one looks the prettiest 🤭

Loves when you lay on-top of her

When the both of you go to bed she HAS to be touching you

No matter if it’s holding hands or being straight up on top of eachother

Poor girl just needs you 😔

Mi-na

I feel like she wouldn’t really care for being touchy with anyone but if it’s her s/o

Sign her up !!

Definitely small spoon

She wants to be treated like a princess 😋

Puts her legs over your lap and just pouts at you till you rub them

If she’s feeling a little frisky she’ll get you to put your head on her chest and then just cling onto you

Loves giving you kisses !!

ugh I want her

Cannot fall asleep if you aren’t in bed with her

a/n: hii! I hope you guys enjoyed thissss! (If you’ve made requests it might take awhile for me to get to them I’ve been busy lately I hope you understand!) (reqs are currently closed)

[cerisahh]

summary — love language headcanons for the arcane characters (giving and receiving)

characters included — jinx, ekko, silco, vander, viktor

cerisa speaks — literally started writing this the night of s2 act 3 release and only now finishing it if that doesn't tell you something about how inconsistent i am idk what does. ATTENTION PEOPLE IN MY REQUESTS!! i swear to god i will do your request in the next year for sure! viktor forgive me, amen.

jinx — gift giving. jinx's most loyal companion is her imagination so it isn't hard for her to think of gifts that are personal to you that'd you'd enjoy.

we see many of the little homemade trinkets that she's made for silco throughout the years, my favourite being the ashtray he keeps on the desk in his office. so dependant on what you're into, she'll showcase her love for you in the form of a trinket.

oh, so you like to read? she sees you dog-earing a page of your book whilst you two are in her hangout and drops her current project to fashion you a bookmark. you only notice that her tinkering has stopped when the bookmark has been dropped on your lap and she's made a blasé comment about you destroying your book for too long so she just had to make you this so you'd stop.

hiding behind a mask of indifference when giving out her gifts is kind of her thing, but she's anxious to no end to see if you like it. her mind runs a mile a minute; 'don't they like it? do the colours not match? they hate it they hate it theyhateittheyhateittheyhateme-'

until you're holding it carefully between your fingers and your mouth is making that 'o' shape it does when something unexpected has happened. when you say that it's the most thoughtful gift you've ever received she's insistent on making you a hundred more.

physical touch. stop booing me i'm right! let me explain. as we see before powder becomes jinx, she's quite normal with physical contact, we see vi hugging her, putting a hand on her shoulder, claggor helping her down to the apartment, etc.

it's after vi slaps and abandons her that she becomes uncomfortable with physical touch. silco (most of the time) lets her initiate it on her own terms.

one time he doesn't is where she's playing airplane with his shimmer device and he grabs her wrist. she lets him retain his grip for a moment but when she does move her arm away he doesn't follow her. through my own delusions i've come to the conclusion that jinx wants, maybe even craves physical comfort, but quickly feels smothered by it when it's forced on her.

despite this, with the right person i feel like she would be willing to accept physical affection from them. it would take time to establish and develop a trusting relationship with jinx but when you're there, you're there. she's also a deeply insecure person when it comes to relationships of any kind and retaining them so you'll have to slip in some words of affirmation between touches.

her favourite way to receive physical touch would for sure be you playing with her hair. running your fingers through it and scratching her scalp? congratulations, that's your new job. you mention off the cuff how you'd love to see her hair down? suddenly there's a brush in your hands and an expectant and giddy jinx sitting in front of you.

even though she trusts you, she'll still get startled and tense up if you suffocate her with too much affection. holding your arms out for a hug or patting the seat next to you so she can lean into your arms is a much better way to initiate contact with her.

a little extra headcanon, when she's doing your nails she'll use her own hands to hold your fingers still instead of a wrist rest. she says it keeps them steadier so she doesn't make any mistakes but really she craves that subtle contact.

ekko — acts of service. season two episode seven dictates this as canon i'll be taking no arguments on this day. seeing his huge mural of future vi to show powder after he upsets her really just cements this headcanon. this is a pretty big action so i'll focus on the smaller ones for now.

starting off really strong with him decorating your room for you. close your eyes and imagine him building you a shelf to store your books or keepsakes. not only building it but carving designs into it. ohh you like music? well take a look at those carvings of sheet music! and do you spy some new books in your collection (stolen from a piltover library, naturally)

with so many different types of people living at the tree, at the beginning he was pretty much forced to learn how to cook all different types of meals. it paid off though because no matter where you hail from, he'll be able to prepare you any of your favourite dishes.

the more i type about ekko the more i realise he is the best househusband out of the arcane gang. he can cook, he can clean, he's a provider - he is quite literally the entire package. him being a certified pretty boy also helps because everyone needs a little eye candy in their life.

this one is sickeningly sweet but for relationship milestones, and even just randomly, ekko will fully plan out a date night for the two of you. picnics on the top of buildings that overlook the neon lights of the undercity, just the two of you. it's so intimate.

physical touch. now this i truly will be taking no arguments on. receiving physical affection for ekko is huge. we all saw how fast he hugged benzo in the alternate au!!

with so many people from his early life either dying (benzo, vander, claggor, mylo) or leaving (jinx and vi), ekko hasn't really had anyone to offer him any form of closeness. sure, he has the firelights. it just isn't the same though.

so when you come along with all the tender hugs and fond touches that he's been deprived of for so long he knows he's done for. consider him addicted. even just clapping a hand on his shoulder after a fight, hell, LEANING ON HIM?? that man is YOURS to command for now until the end.

knowing you're just physically there and not going anywhere - not abandoning him - he's content to bask in your presence.

quick kisses and brief glances at each other come in abundance. if you're not at the firelights base then you're on the go. it's these times that make you both appreciate the time you have with each other. ekko plans to take full advantage of the downtime you both have between missions. don't expect to stray a few feet from each other.

silco — acts of service. silco's acts of service are usually communicated through orders that he gives his goons. say you offhandedly mention that some shimmer addicts have set up camp in the alley next to your apartment. when you leave the last drop and go home you notice that those shimmer addicts you briefly complained about? gone. without a trace.

i feel like he prefers to give out acts of service to you as a kind of 'i can provide for you, don't leave' kind of thing. you don't need to ask silco to do something, he'll take the initiative. he wants you to view him as a reliable provider. this sounds very 50s but he's an old fashioned kind of guy so it checks out.

not the kind of guy to do chores at the start i'm afraid. he has people for that. maybe you can convince him to wash the dishes after you cook you, him and jinx a meal. but never and i mean NEVER will you catch this man hoovering or mopping the floor. that is just simply not going to fucking happen. you'd have better luck asking him to quit smoking.

not gonna lie he just lightens the load of whatever jobs you need to do so you can spend more time together. the famed eye of zaun is clingy.

physical touch. actually controversial take no way CHILLS! similarly to jinx, silco wouldn't actively look for physical touch in any given situation. he's obviously traumatised by his former best friend choking him out and drowning him underwater. not to mention completely brutalising his eye.

jinx is likely the only person he would willingly let touch him. not even sevika on a good day gets that privilege. you would need to spend a lot of time gaining silco's undying trust. only when you two are emotionally close will you be able to share his touch.

buying you jewellery just so he can feel the warmth of your body heat as he clasps the necklace around you neck. silco is very subtle and sneaky when he wants to be close to you.

his neck is off limits to everyone, even you. placing your hand on his collarbone whilst entangled in bed together is the furthest you'll get.

vander — physical touch. oh i just know this man gives the best bear hugs. physical intimacy with vander is just safety incarnate. when he takes you into his arms it really feels like a breath of topside air after a lifetime underground.

i don't think vander would really like being with a partner that didn't enjoy physical affection. it's not only a bonding experience for the both of you to engage in but also a display of trust that he deeply values.

conveying his love for you with intimacy, non-sexual and sexual is something he cherishes. the level of mutual understanding and relationship building that comes with it is indispensable to vander. basically the keys to a successful partnership with him.

that little symbol of love in the undercity where two people touch their foreheads together? that's the most significant way you can show that you truly care for someone and it's vander's favourite way to connect with you in moments of peace.

words of affirmation. vander is the type of guy to not necessarily need words of affirmation to feel good about himself but will appreciate it all the same. he tries so hard to be a good example to the kids and in general to the populace of the undercity. he wants this life to be better. he wants to be better.

he's the leader, the protector, all the pressure is on him. affirming his efforts through words goes further than you might think.

it's you and him against the world. the brewing political storm that plagues both the undercity and piltover is little more than a distant thought when you're whispering honeyed words to and fro in the dead of night. for a man with such an imposing presence, telling him that you love and need him makes him weak.

with your words of affirmation, he's more certain of his role in the undercity than he's ever been. you renew the passion he had in youth, he wants the best for you and will do whatever he can to obtain it.

viktor — quality time. viktor is all about sharing the same space as his partner. with him being the co-founder of hextech, it's difficult for him to find time alone to dote on you. which is why you''ll often find yourself in the company of viktor (and oftentimes jayce) in their lab, them working on a new use for hextech, and yourself either studying or simply watching the magic (literally) happen.

when jayce is off being the poster child of hextech or following councillor medarda around like a lost puppy, you and viktor will settle into comfortable silences. usually with the only noise being the tinkering of science equipment or the quick scribbles of pen on paper. there's no pressure to fill the room with unnecessary chattering. just you being with him is enough. your presence is akin to a relaxant to him.

sometimes most of the time you'll need to remind him to take breaks when you've been there for hours on end and he's showing no signs of stopping or slowing down. it's a practised routine at this point; he refuses, you leave it alone for five minutes, during this time he is sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren't looking, waiting for you to ask again.

when you do, he feigns reluctance as you grab his hand to get you both some fresh air and a proper meal. he might actually be part cat now that i'm thinking about it. he just can't help but love spending time with you.

words of affirmation. actions speak louder than words? pft, yeah right. communication is deeply valued by viktor. he's exceptional at deducing someone's intentions behind their words so don't even bother trying to get something by him. it won't work. you try to plan surprise birthday party for him? he's one of the first people to find out about it.

so when you earnestly tell him how special he is to you or how appreciative you are of him, he knows it's 100% what you actually think and BOY does that fluster him more than anything.

he isn't very big on compliments, not that he doesn't value the ones you so willingly give him, but he finds it hard to accept the good and beauty you see in him. there will always be a part of viktor, machine herald or mortal man, that refuses to believe he could be good enough for this type of love. when he retracts inside his mind and lets his doubt drown him, it's you who can pull him out of the water and onto land. telling him that you love him just the way he is will silence his uncertainty.

oh you know what would just about finish him off? making him a lunch box and putting a note in there. it doesn't having to be something poetic, even a simple 'i love you ♡' will be at the forefront of his mind until he gets back home to you.

honestly, if you're someone who expresses their love through words of gratitude or proclamations of admiration then a relationship with viktor will be smooth sailing.

[toxicanonymity]

I am humbly crawling to your page to confess my latest obsession: serial breeder!Joel.

no outbreak!universe Joel without Sarah, an old creep who lives in a lone house where every woman goes to get bred.

basement breeder

joel miller x f!reader, 1k words

Ty for this delicious thot. Almost sounds like you know who 🍃 in another life where he has them coming and going at all hours as gossip says. Standalone. WARNINGS: 18+ PWP imagine, break-in, manhandling, breeding piv, degradation, praise, mating press, carries you, pet names.

Imagine going there to get bred while you're consciously on birth control, and he gets obsessed with impregnating you specifically. You show him a positive fertility test, and he gets more aggressive. God damn, he's gonna make this work. Meanwhile, you don't seek him out the next time you (would) ovulate, and he notices, wonders if you're giving up or letting some other guy take a shot. That ain't gonna fly. . .

He quietly breaks into your dim basement while you're folding laundry on your dryer, wearing earbuds. From behind, a hand clamps over the lower half of your face. You scream into his massive palm while his other arm wraps around you, biceps bulging, stretching his white tee. He pins you against the dryer, and the warm, hard shape you feel through his pj pants sends a rush of need to your core.

With you pinned there by his clothed arousal, the arm around you falls away. His free hand brushes the shell of your ear then nudges your earbud out. He reaches to repeat this on the other side, then wraps his arm around you again and gives your breast a squeeze. He brings his mouth close to your ear, and his voice is deep and low. "Stayin' home like it ain't the most important day'a the month."

Oooh, is he mad? God, he's hot like this.

When you struggle, he adds, "Or *did ya* stay home? ... You some kinda cumslut now?"

You subtly shake your head 'no', with your nostrils brushing against the edge of his hand.

"Nah," his hips push forward, "you want this cum," he grinds.

You go quiet and relax your body. He thrusts against you at a slow rhythm, and you're getting wet. A little "Mm?" slips from your lips into his palm.

"Yeahh, that's right," he continues, "Want it bad, don't ya, pumpkin?"

"Mm," you just barely nod.

"Good girl," he says and takes his hand away from your mouth.

You clear your throat. "I was just tired."

"Tired," he laughs. "That's a good one."

He's normally good about foreplay--with you, at least - your body and your scent turns him on so bad. His hands are incredible, and he touches you just how you like it. He's even been known to bury his face between your legs. But this time, he's fully on a mission.

He hikes up your skirt and pulls your panties aside, then spits on his hand and pats the saliva between your legs.

"Ooh," he reacts to your warm, wet cunt against his lingering hand. "Didn't needa do all that, did i? Shit, you're always ready for me." He tugs down his pj pants, then his warm, smooth cockhead prods at your cunt, smearing precum into his saliva and your desire. You bend forward and rest your forearms on the clean laundry abandoned in front of you, then scoot your feet back to give him a better angle.

"Good girl," he whispers.

He buries his length in you with a groan, and your insides spread around his girth. "I'll knock ya'up, baby." He holds your waist, and with a punch of his cock he bottoms out, "Ahh." When he withdraws a few inches, you spread your feet, tilt your hips, and push back on him. "Hell yeah." He bottoms out again, then grabs your hips with both hands and pounds you.

He's on a mission - he's not trying to make it last. And he's been aching hard ever since he got it in his mind to do this. He was palming himself over his pants for relief as he walked up to your basement door.

He's giving it to you hard and stiff, weeping precum into your poor stretched hole with every powerful thrust. "Yeah, take it, baby," he breathes, and promises, "put a baby in ya," making you twitch and throb, close to bliss. When he picks up the pace, pummeling you near jackhammer speed, his words are broken by his rhythm, "ahhh, yeahhh--- cum on this cock." When you whine he says, "yeahhh, you want this cum," and you see stars.

You unravel and moan his name, feeling your face heat up after it slips out.

"Fuck yeah," he breathes, pounding you through it.

He abruptly pulls out, and you whimper at the loss. You start to protest, but he takes your panties all the way down, leaving your twitching pussy bare. He forces you around to face him, then bends his knees and you put your arms around him as he lifts you. You wrap your legs around him, and he sinks you onto his stiff cock, letting out a grunt as he bottoms out. After adjusting your weight, he walks you to your nearby bed. With each step, your clit rubs against him.

He lays you down and folds you into a mating press. His thrusts are hard and deep. "ungh," he grunts, "yeah," another thrust, "ohh fuck, " he bottoms out and throbs, warmth gushing into your depths. "God damn, baby." With another hot burst, he deepens the mating press, determined for his seed to take. Your thighs feel a deep stretch. He hovers over your face, and a drop of sweat hits your cheek.

Breathing heavily, he inches back then thrusts forward again, repeating this action a few times as his balls empty. The last thrust ends with a sigh. With his work done–for now–he stays inside and keeps you in the mating press. He wets his lips, admiring your face. “God damn, you look hot like this.”

"yeah?" You reply.

Nodding slowly, he dips his head and scans your body with hungry eyes. He can't help but pull his hips back an inch to admire the sight of your cunt spread around his fat cock. And God damn, what a sight. Not planning on pulling out any time soon, he fully sheathes himself with a low, soft grunt.

"shit, I oughta clear my schedule," he muses, glancing up from where your bodies are joined. He subtly nods and shifts his eyes around as though thinking it over, rocking his hips absent-mindedly. "Yeah," he concludes, "if this don't take ... take ya to my place 'til it does."

--

--

--

Basement Breeder Adjacent

Night walks Joel has breeder energy but only with reader.

For breaking into your basement, Sleeping Beauty - CNC home invasion / somnophilia with another night walks doppelganger.

For serial breeding, a post-outbreak one shot, the old fashioned way, a different Joel and he's a real professional, not a creep.

TYSM for reading, friends. And truly, thank you for your engagement and support. You're a light in my life when it's in shambles lol. Love y'all 🫶🏼

[randum-famdoms]

Prev’s tags are too interesting to lose

Also it’s not just tv; it’s movies too I think. Live action American sci-fi/action movies to be specific. I can only think of a couple made since streaming got big that I felt like I actually knew who the characters were, and liked them, and felt like they actually cared about each other. Other genres have this problem too (comedy comes to mind), but none so extreme as in action and sci-fi. Feels like lately it’s all just rewrites of the same script but with different set dressing and they forget that you also have to have characters, not just a half a concept and a tired plot with cgi sprinkles.

I know the characters’ names and maybe a motive if I’m lucky and that’s it. Then one of em dies or is kidnapped or whatever and the other characters are so heartbroken and like… did they even know each other? Cause they met like a day ago and haven’t had a single conversation longer than a couple minutes, and they only talked about Plot Things.

There are some standouts obviously, The Equaliser series comes to mind, but it’s the exception, not the norm

I don't know what those '90s sci Fi TV writers were putting in their shows but I wish they'd start doing it again

[dear-ao3]

by popular request: how to write an email

a disclaimer that this is the specific kind of email you send when people are absolutely smiting you and you know a phone call or an in person meeting is not possible/will not help. like youre 12 emails deep in an email chain and going in circles. youve been re routed to 13 offices 4 separate times. those kind of emails.

credentials: ive taken something like 13 semesters of college (dont ask) and every single semester have had to fight at least 3 offices for varying reasons in order to take classes. (including one time where i was shorted 5k in financial aid. i ended up getting 200 more dollars than i needed in the end) also my dad taught me everything he knows about emails (hes a tradesman turned corporate man and most of his job consists of telling people (nicely) that what theyre doing sucks and makes absolutely no sense)

Step 1: figure out who the email needs to go go

there is nothing wrong with emailing 11 million people if it gets the job done. if someone isnt helping you and you Know that they Should Be feel free to start to copy their boss on the email. copy your boss on an email. (or advisor or whoever). even if you think the person might only be like Vaguely helpful, sometimes people know people.

also theres nothing wrong with emailing the same email to several departments. sometimes you have to make a lot of noise to get something done (again. as like a last resort. dont email 11 million people right out of the gate)

Step 2: remember to be Polite

a very tempting step to ignore especially when you are 13 thousand emails deep in problems. but! if you are not nice to them! they will probably continue to smite you in the future! you want to make friends! not foes! so no matter how much people are smiting you, try to resist the urge to be an utter dipshit because it will not get the job done. vent to a friend or a coworker and send your polite and nice email

Step 3: articulate the problem Clearly.

a very important step. especially if you are adding more people to your email chain. dont assume they know your exact problem. they probably are dealing with other problems. articulate Clearly what is happening, no matter how long the email may be. its far better to get a long and detailed email rather than a non helpful short one. that will only prolong the process of how long it takes the problem to get solved.

Step 4: cite your reciepts.

wildly important. send your screenshots your attachments your whatever the fucking fuck youve got. its always good to have a paper trail. this is also where you would state any previously attempts to have the problem Sorted (ie i reached out to x person on x y and z days about x problem and it is still not resolved). you would not believe how many people dont scroll down in an email, especially a forwarded/replied one. so summarize whats Down There in your most recent email

Step 5: use the appropriate lingo

you dont have to be Overly Formal but there are a few good Buzz Sentences that usually get the job done. for example:

As Per My Last Email: a great line. emphasizes that youve already mentioned this. and this is not the first time youre mentioning this point. also emphasizes that the Thing has yet to be solved

See Attached/See Below: under utilized. again. people do not open attachments and they do not scroll down. almost had a friend once fail a class because a professor gas lit them in an email chain saying they didnt receive the final paper when the paper itself was attached earlier in the email chain. be Painfully Literal. it pays off.

Help Me To Understand: this is one of my dad's favorite lines. it really shows that you have no fucking idea what the person youre emailing is getting at and youre offering them the opportunity to spell out their nonsense for you. so that you can then be like. well. clearly This is where the miscommunication lies. its a great line. has saved my ass many times. because it is not accusing it is just offering someone to understand. it does not attack. it just is.

Step 6: give a polite sign off.

something along the lines of "thank you in advance for any help" or "i look forward to hearing from you" does the job. something that sends the message you are not pissed to shit at them even if you are.

Step 7: follow up and follow up often.

polite email response time is 48 business hours/2 business days. if it has been longer than that you have every right to email back and say hi x person just following up on this email, have you had the chance to review it yet? again. keep it polite. you actually want them to help you. and if they still dont respond well then maybe its time to loop in a boss or a supervisor or whoever the hell else. dont be afraid to go above them if you need to. nothing wrong with getting shit done when it needs to get done.

and really, if all that fails, as my dad says, a little office bribe in the form of cookies has never hurt anyone :)

so an email. should be formatted something like this:

Greetings/Good Morning (Afternoon) (Person)

I hope this email finds you well (or something similar for a greeting). I am reaching out regarding X incident/problem/whatever the fuck it is. I have previously reached out to X person on X dates and (summary of whatever they did or didnt do). See below/attached emails/pdf/screenshot/document (if applicable)

(explanation of the problem in as simple and detailed terms as possible. have someone re read it to make sure that it cannot be misconstrued)

(explanation of what you are looking for as a solution)

Please help me to understand why this (solution) has not been able to be reached. (explain you are on x timeline if the situation is urgent)

Kind regards/Thank you for any help in advance/I look forward to hearing from you etc,

email signature

go forth and conquer your emails. remember, sometimes you have to be a squeaky wheel. and in my million cases of email sending, it has ALWAYS paid off and i have gotten the problems solved. dont be afraid of the emails they can help you.

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 12)

You woke up feeling uncomfortably warm. Not that it bothered you too much—it was the kind of warmth that made you feel too comfortable to move. Wrapped tightly in a cocoon of blankets, you realized you were stuck in someone’s arms.

And when you blinked your eyes open, all you saw was darkness.

The darkness of someone’s shirt.

You shifted slightly, trying to free yourself a little, but the grip was way too strong. You literally couldn't move, the blankets wrapped too tightly around your body. It made you squirm a bit to try and get free, but still, nothing. "Mhm..."

"Kyle, Johnny, let her go." Simon's low voice sounded muffled somewhere behind you, his heavy hand patting your covered body lightly. "I don't think humans enjoy nesting immobile like this."

Which, yeah, had some truth to it, considering you were still squirming a little, unconfortable with being stuck in place so firmly.

"It's for protection..." Johnny whined—mostly playfully—as he gave you one last squeeze before loosening his hold, pulling you up slightly so you could now see the rest of the room. The blanket that was wrapped around you not so constricting anymore. "Well, good morning, pup! Slept well?"

You blinked slowly, still feeling too sluggish to answer properly. Instead, you rubbed your eyes and face slowly with both hands, trying to wake up a bit. That didn’t stop Johnny, though, who immediately reached out to feel your forehead, checking your temperature. "Ah think it went down..." The Werewolf muttered, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration. It was harder for him to gauge your temperature when he ran much hotter than humans.

"Let me."

Gaz stepped in, leaning closer to feel your forehead, his feathers twitching slightly even when his body was otherwise totally still.

"You feel much better, fledgling." He announced, a small, gentle smile on his face.

"Great! This means we can play, right, pup?"

You glanced up at Johnny’s face nervously. He looked so eager, but you weren’t quite sure if you were ready to play yet... he was still way too big and scary to consider fighting with him.

“Johnny.” Simon reprimanded in his low voice as he stood from the nest. “What did we talk about before?”

"And ya think ah'll hurt her or somethin'? Ya don't knae human limits either, do ya?" Johnny didn’t yell, but his naturally loud tone rose slightly, and your body tensed instinctively between the soft blankets.

Were they fighting? Were they going to argue because of you?

"Humans are more delicate." Gaz chimed in with a neutral tone, stretching his wings as he stood up from the nest, still addressing Johnny. "Especially her, weak as she is after the flu...."

"I knaw ya worried, Ky. I knae, but I'm very careful. Ya knae that." Johnny replied, his voice softening as he moved up to hug Gaz's side gently, one hand smoothing down the feathers on his wing. "Besides, ya have to help me convince Ghostie—he’s such a hardass."

"Har har." Simon deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he bent down to lift you out of the nest. His heavy hands patted your pajamas gently to both fix your clothes and wake you up a bit.

Johnny grinned smugly, amused by Simon’s reaction, his wolf ears pressing down as he let go of Kyle to approach you.

"Ay, pup, do ya wanna see how hybrids spar?" Johnny asked with a mischievous grin as he looked down at you, stepping closer to Simon.

"Huh...?" You murmured, blinking up at him, caught off guard.

"Johnny—" Simon hissed, the raspy, airy sound of a Wraith’s warning making you jump back in surprise.

Only to be interrupted by Johnny tackling him down back into the nest, the Werewolf growling back as they tumbled on top of the blankets and pillows.

You gasped weakly in surprise, eyes wide as you watched them both fall to their knees, Johnny's bicep trying to get a hold of Simon's neck as he tried to push the bigger man down. Simon was clearly stronger though, as he held back the Werewolf's arm and pulled it off of him.

Gaz chuckled sharpily at his two mates' antics, shaking his head softly as he walked past you to go to the bathroom. The soft feathers of his wing brushed against your back reassuringly as he went.

You noticed Simon’s sclera starting to darken, and he let out a low hiss before tackling Johnny's side roughly, pinning him to the nest this time. Johnny growled back, his nails digging into Simon’s arms, in his compression shirt, which somehow resisted tearing under the sharp claws.

You could see both of their muscles bulging with how much strengh they were fighting eachother with.

“You two muppets, stop that.” Price’s voice came from the doorway. He entered the room, shaking his head in mild amusement at the scene. “You’re scaring the kid.”

Johnny took advantage of Simon’s brief distraction to push him off, immediately crawling over to you with a panting grin.

"See? Isnae it fun??" He asked, leaning on the edge of the nest with his arms crossed and his head resting on them. "Course ah'd go easy on ya, pup. Let you mess me up, aye?"

"Who called, Price?" Simon asked, straightening up and casually scratching his arm where Soap had sinked his nails in.

"Nikolai. He was with Kate and Rya." Price replied with a small, affectionate smile, a tinge of affection on his gruffy voice.

"Are they...?" Simon started to ask, glancing at you briefly before looking back at Price, trying to be subtle to avoid worring you in case he was wrong.

"Yes, they are paying us a visit soon." Price confirmed, his tone careful as he gauged your reaction.

"Who...?" You asked quietly, already feeling anxiety creep in at the mention of three new people.

"Bonnie lassie, it's okay, aye? It's just our pack!" Johnny said quickly, trying to reassure you as he got up to his knees to manage to look you better in the eye. "Our pack is very nice, aye? Nice people, very gentle! Ya'll love them!"

"Well, Rya, sure, but Nik and Kate...." Gaz emerged from the bathroom, looking refreshed and wearing a small, amused smile.

"Gaz."

"Kyle."

Both Ghost and Price immediatly scolded the Harpy in unison, their tones sharp but familiar. Gaz just laughed it off, shaking his head lightly.

"Kidding, kidding~"

"They are very nice people, I swear it, doll." John said quickly, his small smile softened by the warmth in his voice, though partially hidden by his beard. "I'll show you pictures after, okay?"

You hesitated, still feeling uncertain. Nervousness tightened your chest, but you nodded slowly. It wasn’t like refusing was an actual option. This wasn’t truly your house. Maybe the best you could do was what you'd done in some foster homes before that had frequent visitors: hide away from sight until they were gone.

Like a cat.

"Let's have breakfast, hun. And you need to take one more dose of medicine. Maybe some warm tea too, hm?" Kyle smiled, his wing brushing your back gently to nudge you toward the door.

You were still getting used to the mornings in their house. They were clearly early risers, with none of them showing the slightest hesitation about starting the day even if they just woke up. The ease with which they interacted, did chores, and moved around impressed you. It was a stark contrast to your usual sluggish mornings.

Not that you were grumpy in the mornings—just… slow. Sluggish. You often zoned out while sitting at the table, barely able to keep up with the energetic chatter and movement around you. They talked continuously, laughing loudly, getting up and sitting back down, picking up dishes, and cleaning as they went.

Truly impressive. You could never.

After taking a warm shower, brushing your teeth, and getting dressed in warm clothes, you found a new problem, though. Johnny was trailing you like a persistent puppy. His wide grin practically begged you to join him in whatever he had in mind.

"If you're going to play with her, take her downstairs to the gym." Simon suggested, clearly offering no help in discouraging Johnny's enthusiasm.

The small, betrayed look you shot Simon only made him chuckle softly as Johnny gently took your hand, leading you toward their indoor gym.

The gym was much bigger than you'd expected, equipped with far more gear than some gyms you'd seen before. The bright white lighting and clean concrete floors created a spacious and organized feel. Each piece of heavy equipment was well-spaced, making it seem as though every detail had been carefully planned.

You scanned the area, taking it all in, until Johnny tugged you toward a section lined with thick, black padded mats on the ground.

"I... don't know how to... fight...." You murmured, your brows knitting together in confusion as you looked up at Soap. It was almost a silent plea for clarification.

"I knae, lassie, don't ya worry! We're just playing!" He beamed at you, guiding you to the edge of the mats. "Here, take off your shoes, bonnie."

Both of you stepped onto the mats. You wore the new socks John had gotten for you—purple with white stars—that carefully protected your small feet, while Johnny went barefoot. His feet were large, with sharp toenails and thick fur along the tops, really what you would expect from a Werewolf.

"What... do you wanna play...?" You asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper in the otherwise quiet gym. "Play fight...?"

"Ah like some wressling like anybody, mah kids also love it too! Ah'm sure we'll have some fun, wee lass!"

He smiled confidently, dropping to his knees. He had an eager and wolfish grin on his face, energy pratically radiating from him.

"Let's see what ya got!"

Part 11 /

[alchemistc]

Gonna be pissed as hell if Tim throws out a plotline to replace it with a three episode arc about LA on fire (what will Brad do when his house burns down?), which makes me a hypocrite and a half because here's some ripped-from-the-headlines bullshit.

Tommy's duffle lands on the bottom stair with a thump.

He glances around the space like he's seeing it for the first time - or maybe like he's just taking in the gravity of the situation. There's a quirk of his lip, an ironic shake of his head, and Buck can't quite stop himself from imagining the thought running through his mind. Despite his intentions, he'd landed here anyway.

They're both bone tired. Exhaustion seeping into their marrow, the kind of tired Buck hasn't felt like this since Texas, maybe. He wants a shower and about 48 hours of sleep.

"I'll take the couch," Tommy says, voice raspy, eyes refusing to draw towards Buck.

And the thing is.

The thing is Tommy definitely had other places to go. Other friends who would have put him up as long as he needed, people he trusted, people who cared about him. But it was Buck he'd found as things wound down, the both of them covered in soot and ash, Tommy dropping to sit beside him on the curb as they waited for relief teams to finish up at the command tent.

They'd stared at the burnt out husk of Tommy's home just long enough for the tiredness to really settle in.

"You're not taking the couch," Buck says, and flips the light switch in the downstairs bathroom. Tommy's shower gel is still under the sink, his fancy curl conditioner down to the last few dollops because he'd spent enough nights here to go through most of a bottle. They've already showered at their respective stations, but Buck knows from experience how much Tommy hates the Harbor showers ("You'd think a fire station would have better water pressure, but I'm telling you, Evan, it's about as strong as an eighty-year-old's dribbling piss.") and Buck knows he still feels like he's caked in days of grime.

"Evan," Tommy starts, and Buck can't read into that, refuses despite the way it knocks around in his chest.

"You need the rest just as much as I do," Buck argues, and Tommy's shoulders just... slump. He sighs. Nods his head. Shifts on his feet and accidentally catches Buck's eye.

The contact holds just long enough for Buck to see the tears swimming in Tommy's eyes, and he can't imagine -

It strikes Buck for maybe the first time how dumb he'd been to ask Tommy to move in here. Tommy had a life, a home, a place he'd spent a decade making his own.

He'd made a joke once about a firefighter living so close to the hills, the first time he'd had Buck over, that ironic lilt to his voice while he talked about replacing all the east facing windows the first time he experienced the Santa Ana's after moving in, and Buck had spent a good ten minutes watching the light fade from his backyard, dusk casting the hydrangea bushes in a rose-gold hue.

"If I hug you are you gonna make a break for it?" Buck asks, regretting the spiteful tone when Tommy curls further in on himself, but he ducks his head even as he's shaking it, and Buck doesn't fight the urge any longer, three long strides before Tommy's curling fists around Buck's waist and pressing his nose into the skin of Buck's neck.

("It's just stuff," he'd said, knee knocking against Buck's where they huddled together on the curb across the street, Tommy uncharacteristically fidgety as they both stared straight ahead.

"Come stay with me," Buck had responded, and felt Tommy tense so quickly he'd sort of expected him to bolt to his feet and leave.

Instead, the stillness eased out of Tommy's body all at once on an exhale, and he'd nodded out of the corner of Buck's eye. "Okay."

He hadn't quite been able to stop himself from reaching out to squeeze Tommy's knee. "Okay.")

Tommy's never been one to take more than his fair share. He breaks the hug before Buck can really get into it, sniffs once like Buck didn't notice the wetness against his neck, shifts backwards and sideways. He stops halfway through the doorframe when he catches sight of the canvas bag on the counter.

Buck just hopes Maddie actually bought the specific list Buck had sent her three hours ago. Tommy's particular about his stuff, and he'd pressed the point with his sister despite the eyebrow raise he could see in every text back she sent him. He can see Tommy doing the math - only so many people with a key to the loft, only so many people who weren't there in Tommy's neighborhood for a stretch of exhausting hours that hadn't amounted to much other than saving that purple house down on the end of the street that Tommy was always bemoaning for having a better garden than him.

"Tell Maddie thank you," Tommy says, still with that rasp to his voice that under any other circumstance would have Buck vibrating in place. When he digs through it, Buck catalogues his findings - that weird organic toothpaste Tommy swore by, the cheap electric toothbrush he refused to switch out for the better one Buck had a subscription to; a pack of briefs and socks in Tommy's preferred brand.

It's not the first time Buck has wished there wasn't a canyon between them, but he strikes the urge to quip, to smile, to reach out and try to comfort him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he digs it free, glances at the readout and immediately feels the ire rise in his throat again. It's from Eddie, a private response to the group message he'd sent out letting everyone know Tommy had a place to stay.

Is that a good idea?

And Buck gets the point. Understands that Eddie has his best interests in mind, but he's not here, hasn't been here, hadn't been there when they rolled down the street to find three houses already fighting the blaze.

Buck can't hold in the annoyed snort, and when he glances up it's to find Tommy's eyes on him.

"I'm gonna go shower," Buck tells him, and manages three whole steps before Tommy's hand curls around his wrist.

He doesn't seem to have the words to ask, but Buck reaches back to strip his shirt over his head anyway and shuffles them both towards the shower.

It's the least sexy thing they've ever done together, if he's being honest. Buck hasn't felt this tired in years, hasn't felt this grim in years, barely has the energy to do more than scrub at Tommy's back while he rinses his hair. Perfunctory, is a term for it, except for the way Tommy leans into the press of his fingers when he suds up Tommy's hair, except for the way Buck drops his forehead to Tommy's chest while Tommy aims the showerhead at Buck's back.

This is the kind of stupid shit Buck had meant, all those months ago, even if he'd done an extremely shitty job of expressing it. This is the kind of shit he'd pictured while Josh waxed poetic about some television show and wondered if Buck saw a future with Tommy.

By the time they're rinsed off and toweled dry Buck can barely stand, but as Tommy's footfalls echo just behind his up the stairs Buck has just enough sense left to roll open the drawer he'd never cleared out, toss Tommy a pair of clean briefs and one of his threadbare LAFD shirts.

Tommy stares at the drawer long enough for Buck to pull on his own clothes. He blinks himself out of it only when Buck stubs his toe wrestling the body pillow Tommy always pretended he wasn't going to end up curled around out from under the bed.

The drawer closes with an echoing 'snick'. Tommy tosses his own towel in the hamper and makes quick work of dressing.

His hair is gonna be a nightmare in the morning. They're both gonna be absolute messes. Buck's pretty sure the only food in this place is raw flour and approximately seventy-five chocolate croissants - he's pretty sure he used up the last of his eggs trying to perfect his meringue technique.

There's a stiff moment after they slide into bed where they both just lay on their backs and stare at the ceiling, oozing into Buck's mattress. Tommy shifts first, and Buck's sure it'll be away - no matter how often they fell asleep tangled together Tommy always ended up hugging the edge of the bed, and it's not like -

"Is this okay?" Tommy asks, even as he's shifting a leg over Buck, hands finding purchase in the cotton of Buck's sleep shirt.

It's like he's been dosed, for the way Tommy's body sliding into place next to his steals all the energy he has left in him. He blinks once, twice, manages to get a hand in Tommy's damp curls in response. The rest of it can wait for tomorrow.

"Evan?" He's sinking into it too, Buck can tell - the weight of his arm and leg pressing Buck further into the mattress, the drawl of Buck's name drifting instead of sharp.

Buck hums. Presses lips into whatever skin he can find without opening his eyes - a temple, or a cheekbone maybe. "Go to sleep, Tommy," he manages, but if Tommy responds he doesn't hear it.

[summertimesadnessirl]

I'm not tired. Like... sleeping doesn't fix it. It makes it worse.

Avoiding physical activities doesn't make me feel better.

What I am is...

I just don't believe that there is any future situation where I will ever be allowed to choose a life for myself where I am happy, safe, comfortable, not constantly worried about money, not particularly under anyone's thumb, and not particularly inhibited by any artificial structures that exist to slow me down just to slow me down. I am pretty sure my choices are literally death or other people forcing me into stuff that makes me want to die all the time just to get my basic needs met until I die.

I keep attempting suicide and then being like fine in two days.

What I want is suicide since I'm not able to be useful enough to earn other people being respectful to me and a comfy little middle class life. I thought I had found a path to get those things but it took years to build it up and someone destroyed it and told all my friends to go to mad at you island in the hatred of a minute and then framed me for it and I'll never be able to prove they did that.

I never was going to be able to do like... anything and everything forever but if I can't have the lifestyle I had in 2019 and 2020 and that level of freedom of choice and agency over my own life and the ability to pay for support and medical care when I need it and yes, that percentage of disposable income to expenses and debt ratio, I want to die. I don't wanna be a billionaire. I think I could do their jobs. Everyone probably could do a lot of their jobs. I think the computer does a lot more of their jobs than we all think. But I'm sorry, I deserve a savings for emergencies and to be able to rely on being able to pay off the debts I take out easily and to be able to buy a bunch of stupid books and shoes just as much as anyone else and I don't care if that means I'm "in my ego" or I'm "delusional" or "entitled."

I deserve to get paid to interact with othe people, too, because they all make it so draining and annoying. And I deserve to dictate the terms of who I interact with and make the rules about them not being allowed to forget important things about me or be mean to me. Why not? It's not me having those things that would prevent other people from having them, it's some kind of insane mutant beast from an ayn rand novel

"Are you ok?" I'm actually tired bro. From the bottom of my heart I'm tired

[acesofspadess]

Track Walk

landoscar x content creator!reader

part 1

series summary: You were invited to the Miami GP for your Track Walk series on social media, what follows after you run into a certain Papaya boy, no one could prepare you for...

series warnings: cursing, angst, smut, making out, mentions of people you may not like, mmf, threesome/throuple, if there is more let me know... ;)

a/n: this a long 4 part series, but the chapters will be released daily!! also... there is no hate to anyone mention in this story, it is a work of fiction and any hate towards the characters/people will be deleted.

Miami 2024 

“Hello lovely F1 fans!” You said to the camera you were holding quite close to your face, “We’ve got a bit of a different setting today, because we are at the…” You took the camera away from your face to show the full setting, “Miami GP!”

You were a small F1 content creator who had become known for your at home ��track-walks’. Every Thursday you would walk around your neighbourhood or get on the treadmill and walk the length of the race circuit for the weekend.

“This is my first ever GP, as you all know, and I just can’t explain to you all how excited I am. A big thank you to Liquid IV for sponsoring this trip, and this video. We are starting at the P1 box, because obviously. We’ve got a total of 5.4 kilometers to walk, so let's get to it.”

Throughout the walk you filmed information on the track, the city, the race, and even some snippets of fans who happened to know who you were.You were doing a light run when at one point in the video you saw a group of papaya and flipped the camera at them and slowed to a light jog, “I think those are our papaya boys, if I’m not mistaken.” You whispered into the mic. As you jogged past them you looked up and saw it was just Lando with some of his team. 

“Good luck this weekend.” You called out as you surpassed them. “Cheers!” Lando called out with a small smile. You smiled back and continued with your jog and video. “Meeting Lando Norris, can check that off the bucket list.” You laughed softly to the camera. When you made it back to the P1 box you started to end the video. “Well that was so much fun, thank you again to Liquid IV for bringing me out here. Cheers to a hopefully amazing weekend.”

An amazing weekend it was indeed. That Sunday you watched Lando Norris get his maiden win. It was safe to say you were crying in the VIP box as he crossed the line. That night you went back to the hotel with endless happiness, your life couldn’t get any better. Or so you thought.

You woke up that morning to your phone buzzing relentlessly. Every two seconds it felt like someone was liking, commenting, and following you. You sat up in shock logging into tiktok to see that your most recent track walk video had jumped from a few thousand views and likes, to millions of each, and your follower count was soaring as well.

You went through some of the comments laughing at them saying this was your first grand prix and it was the best one ever. Some said you wishing him luck was the reason he won and you replied to those comments teasingly.

It was a few hours later when you were getting ready to head back home that you saw the best notifications. 

Lando Norris liked your video

Lando Norris commented on your video

You were thoroughly freaking out. You opened tiktok for the hundredth time that day to see if your eyes were deceiving you, they were not.

Lando Norris: "Maybe this was my lucky charm. Thanks for the good vibes! 🧡"

You screamed in the comfort of your hotel room as you read it, replying back.

“I’ll need to come to a lot more races this season if this is the outcome. Congratulations! 🧡”

Hungary 2024

A few weeks had passed since Miami and everything that came with it. You still continued on your content journey with track walks and other videos with your new following. “Hello lovely F1 fans, old and new. We are here with another special edition track walk!” You cheered showing your surroundings. “I’ve been doing some overtime and made my way to the Hungaroring, so let’s go on a walk…” 

The walk itself went as normal, shared some info, showed the surroundings, and made it seem like a facetime time call. It was almost comical how when you were walking off the track you actually bumped into someone, that someone being Oscar Piastri. “I’m so sorry, I was not paying any attention.” You apologised immediately. He just chuckled, waving you off. “Don’t worry about it. Making a video?” He said looking at the camera. You nodded shyly. “Yeah another track walk.” He nodded at the information, slowly getting awkward. “Well, in true fashion. Good luck this weekend.” You bid and he thanked you with a chuckle.

Once again, it was a Mclaren win. This time, it was for Oscar. You were starting to go a little crazy. How was it that everytime you came to a race McLaren won? Again your video blew up, and like clock work, Oscar commented.

Oscar Piastri liked your video

Oscar Piastri commented on your video

You opened the video and tapped on the comments to see what he had put…

Oscar Piastri: Guess I owe you a huge thank you for the good luck wishes. Let's see if this works every time!”

You giggled lightly at the comment before writing a reply back…

“I’d go to every race if I could! Congratulations !!!”

Zandvoort 2024

Over the summer break you worked endlessly on your upcoming finals for your graduation in December. You were missing F1, and needed your fix. In a last ditch attempt at getting your best friend to come with you, you ended up back in Zandvoort.  “Hello F1 friends! We are here in Zandvoort, home of Max Verstappen. We’ve got lots of orange here so I’m just going to say everyone is in papaya.” 

There was no meeting on track this go around, but that night just as you were getting ready to call it, you got a DM from McLaren. You thought it was just a community thing and glanced at it, but when you saw your name, you sat up quickly. You opened it with shaky hands and read the message:

“Hey Y/N!! Hope you're enjoying your weekend in Zandvoort so far! You’ve got a name here in McLaren and we want to invite you to spend the rest of the weekend with the team in the garage! If you send us a photo of yourself, we can get you your passes by morning! Just give us a call when you get there and let us take care of everything else.” 

It was safe to say you might be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbours. Immediately you grabbed your camera and turned it on. “Hi friends, I’m shaking right now,” you laughed in shock. “McLaren just invited me to their garage this weekend. What the fuck?!” You showed the camera your phone where the message was still up. “Your girl is going to the McLaren garage, which means vlog time.”

You cut the video there and replied to McLaren with immense gratitude and a photo.

Walking up to the paddock entrance you had phoned McLaren and let them know you were walking up. You saw someone in Papaya and they waved at you enthusiastically. She passed you your passes over the barrier so that you could scan in. “This is crazy.” You said while she laughed. “I run all the social media accounts, and when I saw your videos I just had to pull some strings for you. You’re genuine, we like that at McLaren.” She told you honestly and you smiled bashfully. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

She then gave you a run through of everything happening in the garage, in the hub, and in the paddock revolving McLaren. The paddock wasn’t new to you, but this whole experience was strange to you. “And then you have a scooter to get around as well. Just don’t hit anyone because papaya is an easy colour to notice.” You laughed with her knowing how true it was. “I’ll do my best.”

You bounced between sides all morning, watching the teams set up the car for Lando and Oscar. You loved both drivers equally, you would never be able to choose one. You were on Lando’s side not paying much attention to your surroundings when two bodies stood in front of you. You looked up to get out of the way when you saw Oscar and Lando. “Following us now?” Lando asked with a smile. “I should ask you the same thing.” You shot back and Oscar chuckled. “They told us this morning you would be here for the rest of the weekend. It’s nice to see you.” Lando nodded in agreement and smiled happily. “It was a last minute decision to come,” you told them, “and then I got invited into the garage, it’s definitely going to be a good weekend.” The three of you laughed softly knowing the hidden meaning. “Well I’m certainly looking forward to a win this weekend.” Oscar shared. “She was my lucky charm first.” Lando pointed out. “Don’t fight!” You laughed, “I’ll be cheering the both of you on, see?” You took off your hat to show the underside of the brim. Each side had a number on it. “I stitched two of them together.” You informed. “That’s actually really cool.” Oscar said, taking the hat for a closer look.

“Your nails! Osc look at them.” Lando said taking your hands in his and showing off your nails, one hand was dedicated to Lando and his famous helmet design, and the other side was Oscars helmet design with a croissant on the ring finger. “Very funny.” He said when he saw it. “It was this or a cat.” You shrugged and Lando laughed as Oscar shook his head.

“Boys!” The two drivers looked behind them to see the clock counting down. “I will not be the reason you two don’t win this weekend so do go.” You pushed them lightly. “Thank you for coming, we’ll chat again later.” Lando said, going in for a hug. “Of course, go top both practices.” You cheered as Oscar also gave you a hug before the both of them went to their respective sides of the garage.

f1gossipofficial 

liked by user4 and others

f1gossipofficial Who’s that? Today before FP1 both McLaren drivers were seen talking and hugging with someone in their garage. In a different view, we can see that the person is content creator Y/N L/N who has gone viral for being the duo’s ‘good luck charm’. The three seem to be very cosy considering they’ve never officially met. 

view comments

user4 THAT SHOULD BE ME

user5 she posted a mini vlog on her tiktok this morning! She said McLaren dm’ed her and asked for her to be in the garage

User9 awwe that’s so sweet of McLaren to do for her 

user6 something about her doesn’t seem right

user7 don’t start, she’s one of the nicest people I’ve seen on tiktok

user8 another McLaren win is incoming

The following two days of the weekend were spent filming and nerding out over being in the garage. Lando and Oscar of course got super busy over the following two days, but they still managed to give you a wave when they could. Watching the race from the garage and hearing the live feed, watching the pit crew get ready for the pit stops, the actual pit stops, it was beyond magical for you. And without fail, one of the boys won, this time in Lando’s favor by 20 seconds.

You got to celebrate with the team, some of them recognising you and saying you needed to be here more often. Days like this were what you dreamed for. In between the chaos, you never managed to say goodbye to the papaya drivers, but they did DM you.

Lando Norris has followed you

Oscar Piastri has followed you

You’ve been added to a groupchat with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri

Your eyes almost flew out of your head when you saw the notifications. This wasn’t happening, you thought but you clicked on it anyway.

Lando Norris: We didn’t get the chance to say goodbye, but we just wanted to thank you for your support and coming to as many races as you can!

Oscar Piastri: Lando’s said it all, but hopefully you can come to another race soon, and we’ll try to win even if you can’t.

You laughed at the very opposite but almost the same message from each of them. Your hands were shaking as you replied back.

Y/N L/N: You were having too much fun celebrating the win! A big thank you to you guys as well for making it so easy to support a great team. Hopefully I can get to a race soon! If not I’ll be watching from home still cheering you guys on!

Oscar Piastri: you don’t have to be so formal 😂I feel like we can call you a friend if you keep helping us win

Lando Norris: what osc said, don’t be a stranger.

Y/N L/N: no need to bully me! You’re a-listers! How else was i supposed to respond

Lando Norris: OMG!!! I can’t believe you texted me!! You followed me too OMG OMG OMG. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 🧡🧡🥰🥰🥳🥳 ASGKWBEWOEHJ

Oscar Piastri: like that ^^

Y/N L/N: that’s what I’m doing on the inside lol, but i think I would block myself if I did actually typed that

Lando Norris: yeah it was a bit weird to type 😂

Oscar Piastri: great, now I have two of you

You tilted your head at the comment but shook it off. You were pretty similar to Lando on the goofy side of things.

Y/N L/N: Don’t worry Oscar, when I’m not on an adrenaline high like I am right now, I’m more like you than you think

Lando Norris: great, now there’s two of you

Oscar Piastri: i’ll have to see this in person then

Y/N L/N: is that an invite I’m hearing?

Lando Norris: sounds like it to me.

Oscar Piastri: it was indeed.

Y/N L/N: i’ll see what my work and class schedule looks like and I’ll get back to you on that offer. Graduation is soon so i’m balancing a lot of things

Lando Norris: its my offer too!!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: what do you go to school for?

Y/N L/N: noted Lando, and sports journalism, dream job is to work in F1.

Lando Norris: That’s mint! I think you’ll do good

Oscar Piastri: you’ve got a very warming personality that I’m sure all the drivers will like. If you ever need to practise, we’re here.

Lando Norris: If you twist my words I’ll know you did it

Oscar Piastri: Lando!

Y/N L/N: Lando!! 😭 I promise I won’t, this season especially really helped push me into this because I hate the way the media portrays two/three of the nicest people ever.

Lando Norris: i know we’re the two…but who’s three

Oscar Piastri: guess 🦁

Lando Norris: NOOOOOOOOO

Lando Norris: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEE

Oscar Piastri:  😂😂😂

Y/N L/N: IM SORRY!!! I CAN’T HELP IT!!

Y/N L/N: Oscar!! Why would you throw me under like that!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user is no longer available*

Lando Norris: invite has been taken back.

Y/N L/N: nooo!!! I’m sorry!!! OSCAR!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user apologises for the chaos he has now unpacked*

Baku 2024

Within the three weeks that passed between Zandvoort and Baku, Oscar and Lando never stopped texting you. The three of you figured out you had a lot in common and clicked like magnets. Over that time, you had plenty of new followers and decided to do a Q&A on your tiktok.

“How am I able to go to so many GP’s? Are you a millionaire?” You laughed after reading the question. “I’m not a millionaire by any means. I saved up for about a little over a year, didn’t go out with friends unless it was a birthday, didn’t buy unnecessary stuff, just was really good with not spending so I could treat myself this year. I’m in my last months of uni, which I got a full scholarship for, so not having to worry about school costs is also a great help.”

“Have you spoken to Lando and Oscar since your time in the garage? They follow you now too.” You thought quickly about it, “I haven’t no,” oops. “They were just being polite and doing their jobs when they saw me in the garage. As for the following thing, I can’t tell you why they decided to do that, but I'm not complaining.” You chuckled.

“What are you studying in Uni?”

“I’m in my final months of my sports journalism major. That's why I’m a big fan of F1, but also F1 got me into journalism, it's a circle of interest.” You mimicked drawing a circle that never ends.

In those three weeks you had also moved your group chat out of Instagram.

Osco: Is it terrible to say I miss having you in the garage?

Landito: wow Osc, straight to the point

Osco: leave me alone

Y/N: if it's anything I miss being in the garage, but no it’s terrible

Landito: what he means to say is…. we miss seeing you in person

Osco: facetime isn’t enough

Osco: come to Baku?

Landito: we took back her invite remember?

Osco: you took back your invite…

Y/N: i’ll be there already

Landito: WAIT REALLY???

Osco: is this a prank?

Y/N: yes really

Y/N: and no not a prank

Osco: answer please

Your phone started ringing just as you read it. You were in no position to be facetiming two people you now had a crush on… yeah, that also happened over the three weeks. You tried to tell yourself they were just being nice and you were caught up, but the way they acted sometimes led you to believe otherwise.

“Why am I looking at the ceiling?” Lando pointed out. “Because I am in no way showing you what I look like right now.” You laughed at them. “Yes you are.” Oscar commented. “We facetimed you for a reason.”

“Face please.” Lando asked sweetly, and you rolled your eyes. There you were in your McLaren x Reiss jacket, curls thrown up into a mix of a bun and ponytail, and glasses over your eyes. “You wear glasses?!” Lando said peeking over Oscar’s shoulder. They were always together, you started to realise.

“Yes, Lando. I wear glasses.” You shook your head with a small smile. “Well, you look beautiful as always. What’s this about you coming to Baku and not telling us?” Oscar moved on swiftly. “It was supposed to be a surprise! I was-”

“Nope, if it’s a surprise we shall wait.” Oscar cut her off. “I don’t want to wait though.” Lando groaned from behind him. “It’s in 2 days, Lando.” Oscar said, looking at the head that was now on his shoulder. “2 days too long.” He mumbled. “I promise it’ll be worth it!”

And worth it it was. After your track walk, there you were, the media pen, questions about the upcoming weekend ready, with an F1 TV microphone in your hand. F1 had reached out to you after your Q&A video asking about your sports journalism career. One thing led to another and here you were.

“Hey Max, first things first, how are you feeling this weekend?” Max smiled. “I mean, I’m feeling fine, I definitely need to get in the car to see how we do on track. Not very well if you’re here though.” 

“You know who I am?” You asked in shock. “All other drivers hope you don’t make it to the races with the track record you have, but someone told me I was one of your favourites.” Of course they did. “Well they wouldn’t be lying.” You chuckled shyly. 

Max leaned on the gate as you got your questions ready. "This year has seen a shift in the competitive order with McLaren and Ferrari stepping up. You’ve still proven to be one of the best drivers this season and currently lead the Drivers' Championship, with Red Bull fighting to stay at the top in the Constructors’. With three titles already under your belt, how do you maintain focus when the dominance you’ve grown used to in both championships isn’t guaranteed anymore—especially heading into a high-risk, high-reward circuit like Baku, where unpredictability often plays a major role?"

Max seemed a little shocked with the question. “I mean…” You nodded along as he answered and when he finished and the camera was off he smiled. “Those were very good questions. I look forward to seeing you the rest of the weekend.” You smiled at him. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

You got similar style compliments from other drivers and when the papaya boys walked in and spotted you they both smiled but had to work their way down the pen. Oscar was the first to get to your station. A quick glance to his eyes showed the professionalism he was using to hide the sheer excitement at seeing you again. “Hey Oscar, you’re going into this weekend with a double podium from Monza, how are you preparing for this weekend to get the same results if not better?”

Oscar chuckled. “Well if you’re here then a McLaren win seems to be in the cards.” You shook your head at him as he smirked. “But…”

“Thank you Oscar, good luck this weekend.” Before he left he reached over the barrier to give you a quick hug. “Nice to see you again.” He said before walking off. Lando quickly took his position and gave you his eye-closing smile. “Hey you.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Hey Lando, after the double podium in Monza, it’s clear that McLaren has made significant strides this season. With the Constructors' Championship in reach with just 11 points to Red Bull, how do you approach a circuit like Baku, where opportunities and risks are amplified? Do you feel this weekend could be pivotal in swinging the fight for the Constructors’ in McLaren’s favor against Ferrari as well?"

Lando tilted his head. “You’re one of the only people who’s brought Ferrari into the Constructors fight.” He pointed out and you shrugged lightly. “You’ve said before that Red Bull isn’t your competition, Ferrari is.”

Lando’s interview came and went just as quickly as Oscars and he too ended the interview with a hug. Charles and Carlos were just after and both of them mentioned knowing who you were and to take a stop at their garage.

The weekend went really well. Any free time you had was bouncing between garages and meeting new people. And like clock work, McLaren won the race, in Oscar’s favour. You were doing post race interviews and the wide smile on Oscar’s face when he saw you made your insides warm. “Please come to every race.” He joked and you laughed lightly. “Congratulations on your win today Oscar, after some very good fights with Charles…”

Because you had to go through every driver, and then got invited to talk about your experience on F1 TV-

“We are bringing on the voice you’ve heard all weekend, Y/N L/N.” Laura introduced as you walked into the middle of the group. “How are you?” She asked. “I’m doing really amazing. It’s been such a busy weekend for me, all thanks to you guys for inviting me and giving me some on the field action.”

Will Buxton spoke next. “You’ve become a big name here, everytime you come to a race, a McLaren driver wins. How is that even possible?”

You laughed alongside the rest of the panel. “I just put 50 kilos of extra weight in everyones car before the race this time. I think I’ll run the engine out next time though. Make everyone have grid-penalties.” You joked and they all laughed again. “It’s been so nice having you with us this weekend! We hope that you can join us again sometime soon!”

-you were able to stay much longer into the evening. Making your way to the McLaren garage you saw that they were prepping for a team photo and you quickly got your camera out to snap the moment for yourself. “No, you get in here too!” Zak yelled seeing you and the team cheered in agreement. You shook your hands not wanting to spoil it but then you were getting picked up from behind by a shoeless Lando and plopped right to Oscar.

Oscar placed an arm around you with a wide smile. “This is too much.” You told him. “Nope, it’s not.” He smiled again. You shook your head but smiled and cheered for the picture as well, and then the champagne. The team member next to you handed you their bottle with a wink at Oscar. Right as the photo ended you shook the bottle and made sure to douse Oscar as he tried to run away. Lando also joined you and the three of you were getting drenched in everyone else's champagne.

“There are two of you!” Oscar joked. “Yeah you might be right about that.” Lando laughed, clearing champagne from his eyes. “That was fun!” you laughed clinking Oscars champagne bottle. “You’ve got about 5 minutes before you start to smell.” He laughed and then your face fell. “I don’t have a change of clothes!” Lando laughed as you freaked out and Oscar just hugged you. “I’m sure we can find you something to wear.”

They did, you were wearing a team kit from their spare room in the hub. It was enough to get you to your hotel room. “Want to ride with us to the hotel?” Lando asked coming to walk with you as you reached the doors to walk out. “Yeah that sounds good.” He took your hand just as you were going to exit. “We have to wait for Oscar.” He said and you nodded and without letting go of your hand he dragged you back towards the main area.

“Did you enjoy your weekend?” He asked as you two leaned against a wall. “It was an amazing weekend.” You smiled giddily, closing your eyes. “I hope this doesn’t change that.” You opened your eyes to see Lando coming closer to you, eyes looking down at your lips. You nodded lightly and he closed the gap between your lips. His teeth nipped yours, with a sense of impatience. “Just couldn’t wait could you.” You broke away with his head resting against yours. Oscar. Why did you feel so guilty? “Oscar I-” He just shook his head with a laugh coming to your otherside. “I won, does that mean I get a kiss?” 

You looked at Lando who still had that dazed smile, then back to Oscar. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He said and Lando shook his head. “We’re dating, now can I kiss you please?” He said quickly before taking your lips in his. His kiss was softer but still as impatient. “We’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He sighed when he pulled away. 

“Really?” You asked softly, hand coming to press against your tingling lips. “Yes, since we started texting you. Oscar and I just couldn’t get you out of our heads.” Lando said with a small smile. 

“I thought I was being delusional.” You chuckled softly. “Not at all.” Oscar's hand went to your hip softly squeezing. “Come to Singapore with us, please.” You looked at Lando who took your hand and held it in his own. “Please.” You nodded almost in a trance.

[thanosscross]

hii!! <33

i love your work and i just have to request something for.. choi seung-hyun :)

yk top isnt in the kpop industry after all the things that happened to him (i feel so bad for him) so, when he was recording squid game.. guess what!?? apart from jo yuri, reader. a kpop idol whom during the last months/year has become famous there acting!! oh gosh he is so in shock because he gets flashbacks. and aside from that, our character is associated with his, so he has to spend plenty of time with us

Absolutely love it, I do I do. So let's do this

My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun x reader

Summary: Meeting Choi Seung Hyun was an honor for you, considering you had stepped into his spotlight as a new upcoming k-pop rapper after he retired, so what happens whenever you not only meet him, but get closer than most with him

Warnings: You will cry.

Going on set for squid games for the first time was an experience, especially meeting everybody, yes you had been on a handful of other production, but nothing like this. Whenever you first given you script, you were sure you'd be one of the first to be killed off, but finding out you live throughout the second season was a shock, especially because you had a tour coming up soon.

Walking through the groups of people you felt nervous, because of your management company you had missed your first reading for the script, meaning everybody had already met other than you. You chose to sit in your chair off to the side going over your script, trying to anybody wearing a tracksuit with 230 on it, knowing that was going to be the main co-star you filmed with. Unknown to you Choi Seung Hyun had already spotted you and was standing in shock "Hey? You okay man?" Jae-won (Player 124) asked him seeing him staring across the room "Y-Yea, does she look familiar?" He asked motioning to you "I know we film with her, but-" Seung Hyun was cut off by a soft voice in front of him "Hi, I'm uh..Y/n l/n..I guess we're gonna be love interests" You smiled sweetly extending your hand to shake his, taken by surprise by him bending slightly to kiss the top of your hand gently "Choi Seung Hyun" He introduced, you blushed scratching the back of your neck shyly "O-Oh I know, being a big female rapper in k-pop, you have to know who came before you" You smiled, his smirk turned into a genuine smile after that "That's where I recognized you, you're that y/n!" He explained, sighing in relief that it wasn't going to be awkward you smiled "Do you guys wanna go over a few lines with me?..I couldn't make it the other day" You asked shyly, both men excitedly volunteering.

Filming with Seung Hyun was fun, he was always trying to flirt with you or get you to laugh, while it flustered you, the directors and cast loved it, all of them explaining it's giving their characters alot more chemistry behind the acting. As you stood on your mark, Seung Hyun stood on the opposite side of the scene, filming scenes for a close up argument between your character and his, as the director called action you attempted to start your lines "You selfish!- I can't! he's standing there so sweet!" You frowned, stepping forward hugging him tightly "You're not selfish" You frowned, the past few weeks of filming you and Seung Hyun got close, opening up to each other over wine after filming and coffee before filming. Seung Hyun just chuckled "I know, would it help if I made you mad?" He asked raising his eyebrows, you shrugged stepping back to your marker "Couldn't hurt to try" You smiled softly, he just smiled before looking at you "Your music is by far better than anything I've produced, and you've surpassed me in the rap world" He explained, you both knew he was just coming up with things that would get under his skin, it wasn't that you were a huge fangirl, but going into the music world at first you idolized T.O.P, so after his scandal and and him leaving BigBang you held a soft spot for him, he was a big reason you even learned how to rap that fast.

You filmed the scene with ease after that, only stumbling on your lines one more time after that for the day. You were now standing with your back to the wall, Seung Hyun standing a few inches in front of you, his arm blocking one side of your head, the other had a camera positioned to see the both of you perfectly "Y/n, Seung Hyun, Are you two okay to start?" Dong-Hyuk asked, you were grateful to have such a thoughtful director, any intense scenes always making sure you were comfortable and ready before filming started. "Let's do this" Seung Hyun smiled, you nodded in agreement as they called out action. "I thought I told you to pick to stay, senorita" he growled, grabbing the bright red X patch that was velcroid to your jacket "You're not the boss of me" You stated glaring him down, trying your best to remember what line was your cue to try and get away "Didn't I say I'd kill you?" He asked reaching his hand back, forgetting your cue you yelped as Seung Hyun's came in contact with your throat, pinning you to the wall, you both glanced at the director in shock, almost like children after accidentally hurting each other. "Cut!" He called out "Y/n! What was that? Did you forget your cue or something?" The director called out, your eyes were stuck on Seung Hyun though, his hand slowly pulling away from you, being replaced by his gentle finger tips "Are you okay?" He asked softly, trying to see with the current lighting if he hurt you "I'm alright, it just scared me..I guess I did forget" You whispered, you wouldn't admit why exactly you forgot, it definitely wasn't because of Seung Hyun's voice whenever he was acting.

After filming you were sitting on your trailer steps, watching the rain fall around you "Y/n" Seung Hyun's soft voice sounded from somewhere around the corner of your trailer "Seung Hyun?" You asked, trying to hear him over the soft pattering of the raindrops, you soon realized he wasn't talking to you, he was talking about you. Peeking around the corner you saw him a few trailers down talking on the phone with somebody "Yea yea I know that, but what else?" He asked, you stayed hidden behind your trailer, still listening in, not at all sorry to admit you really cared about what he thought about you, but also sorry to admit you felt the need to listen in on his conversation to know. "I don't know man! W-working with her has been fun.." You heard between the muffled quiet bits of his conversation, you were about to walk away before you heard him raise his voice again "Oh no! No! Not like that!" He shouted, you could only wonder what he meant or what he was talking about, you chose to keep it to yourself for now.

Walking up with a startle off put your morning severely, being a rising star wasn't easy, you had creeps at meet and greets, stalkers that went to extensive lengths to try and get your attention, some of which giving you pretty intense nightmares and ptsd. Walking onto set you gripped your script, you had accidentally slept through coffee with Seung Hyun, which gave him a weird feeling, like there was something wrong. "Y/n?" You heard his voice before you slammed into his body, you scampered back as Seung Hyun caught you easily, steading you on your feet before taking in your panicked look "Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" He asked tilting his head, you didn't reply, just wrapping your arms tightly around him trying not to show to anybody that you were close to tears. Now Seung Hyun wasn't a liar, he wasn't very fond of physical touching, but there was something about your panicked terrified state that gave him a craving to hold onto you until you were back to your usual bubbly self. Wrapping his arms around you he rested a hand on the back of your head, holding you close to him "What happened this morning?" He asked "You were fine whenever I left last night.." He continued giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away, keeping a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. "I don't..Just..bad dreams" You smiled softly, trying to shake off any remaining anxiety you had "Are you okay to do today?" He asked rubbing your shoulder gently, you relaxed further under his touch "Y-Yea yea, I'm okay" You smiled, he gave you an encouraging smile before leading you over to your seats, that you both had moved closer to each other during one of your interviews earlier in the week.

As you read through this episodes script you mumbled quietly to yourself, unknowingly singing along to different verses of different songs that popped into your head "Okay, remind me when I'm in the studio again to get you to come do a collaboration track together" Seung Hyun smiled walking over to you from where he was filming "Don't play with my teenage fangirl heart like that" You teased, you both knew how you felt towards BigBang as a teenager, how you had posters of your co-star in your room before and after his rap career. "I'm serious, that's some good work" He smiled sincerely squeezing your shoulder sitting down, you just offered him an awkward smile, you knew today was Seung Hyun's last day on set, and it would be the last day you truly got to spend with him, and it'd be a lie if you said you wouldn't miss him.

You had one scene left between you and Seung Hyun before his characters death scene, and you were a nervous wreck, as the director called out action you stood in the colored room for the game 'mingle' "What was that stunt you pulled, huh!?" He shouted, backing you against the wall "I-I was trying to save her-" He cut you off, you did your best to act nervous and scared, but it was hard whenever the man currently yelling at you would apologize the minute any scenes where he had to objectify or be rude to you were done. "Her!? What about you, senorita!?" He screamed before backing up running his hands through his hair before going back to standing in front of you "I'm so fucking mad right now!" He shouted, pulling out another piece of candy out of his prop necklace placing it in his mouth "Just calm down! I'm okay, alright!" You argued, he just put his arm against the wall glaring at you, you took a deep breath getting ready for your cue "Don't try to tell Thanos the great to- Umpf!" He started until you smacked your lips against his, his hands going to your hips holding you close to his body waiting for the director to call Cut. Whenever he did you were a flustered mess, who knew that man could kiss like that?

After filming wrapped you were quick to get back to your trailer, shutting the door softly behind you before placing your face in your hands trying to take deep breaths, you didn't want anybody to see you like this, you felt stupid and overdramatic, but you and Seung Hyun had gotten really close during your months of filming, and it made you sad thinking about how busy you were, and how little you'd get to see your new friend, you wouldn't say you were an emotional person, but whenever you felt something, you truly felt it to where it'd effect everything you'd do. As you took your final shaky deep breath you jumped hearing the door close "Y/n?.." Seung Hyun asked softly, he thought you had been acting even odder than before as they got closer to his characters death, but after you left while he was saying his thank you's and goodbye's to everybody it was obvious now something was really bothering you. Seeing your teary eyes and tear stained cheeks he felt a pain in his chest "Oh, Jagi" He whispered pulling you into a hug, now Seung Hyun wasn't sure what he felt towards you, but he knew it was something different, he wanted to talk to you everyday, wanted to be the one to comfort you when you're sad, hold you whenever you're scared, and he knew friends didn't want that with other friends.

"I really liked hanging out and meeting you Seung Hyun" You sniffled stepping back, starting to bow in respect but he stopped you "Is that what you've been so upset about?" He asked, a soft smile playing on his lips, you just shrugged against his hold on you, not trusting your voice to speak "I didn't think you'd miss me that bad" He smiled, leading you over to sit on the couch that was placed in the bigger space of the trailer "I can't...have alot of friends...I mean you know, and being here, I feel like I finally found one, and I don't know when I'll see you again" You frowned, feeling tears start to build back up in your eyes, his expression was quick to match yours as he hugged you again "You'll see me again, y/n, don't worry I don't care if I have to buy V.I.P tickets to see you at every show, you're too cool to just not be your friend after this" He smiled giving you a slight squeeze before pulling away, you sniffled wiping your face "You wouldn't pay, I'd let you come watch backstage" You whispered, his frown turning into a soft chuckle "Well then, I'll be looking forward to it" He smiled, kissing your forehead softly "I had fun hanging out with you too, y/n" He added on, holding your hand in his gently "Promise we'll see each other again?" You whispered, feeling yourself about to cry again "I swear to you, jagi" he whispered before leaning back pulling you into a hug, holding you until you fell asleep.

Whenever you woke up the feeling of sadness was even heaiver seeing Seung Hyun gone and a small note sitting on the table

'Jagi,

I had to get going in time to make an art show, but I will be back to see you soon! Just over the last month, you've made me feel things I never thought I would be capable of feeling, that's how I knew you were my best friend. Acting with you and all the nights we spent talking will forever be an honor for me, your beauty is like no others, my eyes are drawn it to like a bumble bee to a flower. You give me hope there's a lot of good things to keep trying for, and for that, I will always be grateful for you my jagi.

Yours truly,

Choi Seung Hyun

T O P <3'

Reading the note you felt yourself on the verge of crying again, wanting to smack him for not letting you have a chance to thank him for being so sweet to you, sighing you got up, ready to get finished filming so you could see your best friend again.

--

HAHA MY FIRST SLIGHTLY SAD FIC AND MY FIANCE IS SO PISSED SHE'S GOTTA WAIT FOR A PART TWO!!

[remxedmoon]

your friends don’t know what to do.

so!! i redrew every single enemy in the game. in the span of like 9 days (excluding the king i made him right after the last update). that’s abbbout 79* drawings total, with only 3 custom ones for once!! i’m so normal. as always, these are free to use with credit!! go nuts!! spritesheets are included <3

got some notes under the cut, along with As Many Enemies As I Could Fit without making this post obnoxiously long. and i failed. i had to swap between the app and browser several times and i still couldn’t fit every drawing. open this post at your own risk (silly).

okay so first of all. what’s with the asterisk. well. I Drew A Lot More Than 79 Assets Actually. they’re getting posted separately, because this post is ABSURDLY long. you can find most of them in the miscellaneous folder, but for a bit of clarity, i added the teleport map and a bunch of ui elements that reference sprites from the icon sheet. and also the game over and loop back animations but i haven’t finished the spritesheets for those because they’re a pain in the ass so they’re not in the drive yet

if you missed my complaining a few days ago, a few enemies might look a bit crunchy in the actual game? specifically, calamité and désespoir were drawn at the wrong size, because their images in the files do not match the spritesheets! i avoided the issue with most of the other enemies, those two just blindsided me. sorry about that!

^sadnesses having inconsistent designs was actually a running theme with these. détresse rock has an unused design in the files (which i managed to catch before having to redo it thankfully), anxiété has extra spikes that don’t appear on the spritesheet (sorry i was too lazy to fix that one), even the version of the friend rescue in the files doesn’t match any of the frames in the spritesheet. hfjfhfj. sorry about the quality issues.

tangentially related to that, massive thank you to @riggedbones for grabbing the individual frames for the animations for me!! they made my life so much easier. vs friends would’ve been so annoying…

speaking of the animations! hi can you tell i’m not an animator. these were my first time doing Anything animation related since, like, middle school. super sorry for the Jank in some of these! the friend rescue looked way better when i drew it 💔💔.

bourdon’s hands also might act a bit odd, my apologies. the sizing ingame is SUPER inconsistent (why is one of the hands SMALLER than the other????). once i’m able to actually test the mod, i’ll try to fix it wauaua.

the 3 custom sprites are for the triplets! i ended up making two versions for each, one that follows the ingame art, and one with my personal designs for them. i like my own designs for them, but they’re a lot easier to tell apart? so if you want to use the ones that fit the gimmick better, they’re also in the drive 👍

this update. was originally going to have way more custom art. i’ve actually got an act 6 siffrin enemy asset in my art program! but school started and i decided it’d be better to just get the normal stuff done. so the mod can actually come out in a reasonable timeframe. promise that’ll all come out Later! sorry about the wait 😓😓😓

also adding this because i almost forgot: no i don’t know if these are compatible with sasasaap. i don’t have the game still and it’s not my main priority atm, apologies!

okay! that was a lot! and there’s a ton of art down here! thank you for reading all this, i’ll be back with the game over animations and teleport map pretty soon! like. within the weekend. enjoy!!!

[starmapz]

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

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

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

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

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

❦ words ; 17.7k (oops).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can’t these two get along just for once?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal!”

“Deal.”

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

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

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

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

“Friday. After four.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.”

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

Oh.

Oh.

He doesn’t know.

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

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

“Sounds like fun.”

“I would join.”

“That sounds lovely.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Likewise,” Atsuya agrees with a tired smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is he even thinking about this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm. Supposedly she believes Shakespeare never existed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D’you have another class?”

You shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Distant. He didn’t hear you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods tensely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uraume’s right, you know.”

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

But today’s a bad fucking day for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They ask for you a lot.”

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

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

He’s got bigger problems than his nicotine addiction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffs. “As if.”

“What do you call your gifts to them?”

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

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

He scowls down at you, huffing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kids are wild.

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

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

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

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

“Alright, I’ve heard enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah! He’s the coolest!”

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

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

“Will you be alright?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we see her?” Yuji asks in awe.

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

Sukuna pauses, letting both boys process his words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Legally?” Yuji parrots, his lips pursed.

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

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

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

Slowly, the little boy nods.

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

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

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

“Tell her no!” Yuji cries out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three letters. Seven emails. Forty eight calls.

Make it forty nine.

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

The house that surrounds them feels foreign without his life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shouldn’t have done what he did next.

He should have thought about his reactions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love ya both too.”

–

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

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

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

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

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

Tears.

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

The day feels like a blur.

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe that would have been for the best.

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

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

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

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

“Class started twenty minutes ago, Ryomen.”

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

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

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

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

“They haven’t been going to school?”

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

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

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

“Ryomen! A word.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he mutters, clipped.

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

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

He’s not making this easy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“None of us have slept.”

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

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

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

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

“Missed you, Kuna.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll let you judge for yourself.”

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

“Hey, Choso.”

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes flicker between yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Choso nods, his smile turning up sliiiiightly more.

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

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

“You can read ‘em if you want.”

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

“What happened to them?”

“I was pissed.”

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

Case No. 2493

Social File No. 34785-98

Next Court Date: March 23rd.

In The Matter of Choso Itadori and Yuji Itadori.

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

“This is… a lot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I don’t-”

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

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

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

Your exact order.

Sukuna remembered.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s a good friend.”

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

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

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

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

“Mm.”

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

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

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

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

Sukuna huffs. “‘Course.”

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

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

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

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

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

Both men thank you as you settle beside Sukuna.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hiromi nods, writing away with his pen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What methods of contact did you use?”

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

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

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

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

Sukuna visibly tenses. “Yeah.”

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

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

Sukuna shakes his head.

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

“My favorite subject,” Sukuna grumbles.

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

“History.”

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

“No.”

“I assume you’re working as well.”

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

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

“I rent an apartment.”

“Three bedroom?”

“Two.”

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

Sukuna nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just fucking great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“High,” Hiromi tries to assure him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, what a situation he’s in.

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

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

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

Your heart can only handle so much distant love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sukuna?”

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

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

Anxiety.

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

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

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

“That fucking-”

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

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

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

“Can you breathe, Kuna?”

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

He’s panicking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Breathe with me, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t have a fuckin’-”

“Bullshit!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure you don’t need-”

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

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

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

Your god forsaken lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter - coming soon

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

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

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you hide your illness

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Hello! Can you make svt x reader when she hides their sickness to them and their reactions?I love your writings!’

Concept: You have a cold/flu/stomach bug, and you keep it to yourself because you know he’s busy this week. (Don’t do this btw!!! Tell someone when you feel bad!!)

Will give you the lecture to end all lectures - Seungcheol, Mingyu, Seungkwan

His jaw clenches when he sees the condition you’re in when he pops in after work. He was worried that you hadn’t been very responsive over text, and he had every right to be. His touch will be gentle as he checks for a fever or helps you off the bathroom floor and into bed, but his words might be kind of harsh. “You should have told me,” he’ll grate out. “I would have dropped anything to be here for you.” If you get emotional about it, partially because of the scolding, and tell him you knew he had a busy week, some of the heat will dissipate. Still, don’t do this again. 

Super passive-aggressive while jumping in to take care of you - Jeonghan, DK, Minghao

Like the previous group, his touch will be soft as he takes care of you, but beyond a few questions about what you need and when the last time you took medicine was, you’re getting the silent treatment. How dare you think he doesn’t care enough to be here when you need him? He would have called out the moment you felt bad. When you’re feeling better, prepare for a long talk about keeping him in the loop. 

Lightly scolds before taking care of you - Joshua, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Chan

Sighs when he sees the condition you’re in. “Baby, why didn’t you call me?” There’s very little heat behind it before he’s jumping in to take care of you. Super gentle about it, including the scolding when you’re settled against him in bed. “Tell me next time. You know I want to take care of you.” In the future, if you seem less responsive when he’s busy, he’s sending a message like ‘Is there something you want to tell me??’ 

Feels terrible that you didn’t tell him - Jun, Woozi, Vernon

Sort of heartbroken when he sees the condition you’re in. If there’s any scolding, it’s more out of panic or desperation. But really, once you’re settled, it’s him that’s apologizing. He feels terrible that you even considered that he’d prioritize his work over your health. When you feel better, he’ll practically beg you to let him know about these things so he can be there for you or at least find someone to take care of you while he’s away. 

[just-a-ghost00]

What they wish to tell you

Decks used : I don't care oracle, White Numen tarot, Spirit Junkie oracle

Group 1 ⭐️

"My productivity stems from inspiration. When I focus on what brings me joy, my tasks become effortless actions." The Moon, 4 of pentacles, 5 of cups, Abuse of power rx, Party in your heart, Surprise rx

They wish to tell you that they're afraid and unhappy. That they feel powerless within this connection. They feel like they've lost all chances of being with you and that scares them. I get a lot of sadness from this spread. Sadness and regret. They feel unsafe. Like all the fun has been taken away from them. They can't seem to rejoice about the things they used to like or to marvel at life. They have a hard time focusing on daily tasks, seeing the glass half full. They feel uninspired, unmotivated, lost because things aren't as they used to be. They feel like you've changed, whether that's the truth or not. They feel disconnected from you, from people in general. They have a hard time thinking positively. I feel like they struggle with mental health issues at the moment. At the back of each deck we have The High Priestess, Dopamine ? Dopa-go ! & My friendships support me, nourish me and inspire me. This person feels like they are not supported by the people around them. They have lost the will to fight for what makes them happy, what they believe in. They're going through a dark night of the soul and they're in a lot of confusion right now. That's also something they try to hide from people around them, including you. They put on a façade but the truth is they wish they could tell you how empty they feel without you. This person wishes they could go back to the times where things weren't as complicated and they could enjoy themselves freely. This person feels like they cannot be themselves freely with their loved ones. For some of you, the person you're thinking of may struggle with their sense of identity. I was picking up on the LGBTQIA2S+ community. For some of you, if your person is a masculine, they may struggle with expressing their feminine side because of societal expectations or pressure from family. I was specifically picking up on Drag Queens and Kings. But more than that I just feel like your person is currently struggling to find their path in life and may be questioning themselves a lot. Which is a very tiring and uncertain time of their life. And they wish they could talk about it with you but for some reason they struggle to do so. Their heart feels very guarded. They are very insecure right now. They have a hard time showing compassion to their own self for what they are experiencing. They may be blaming themselves a lot when they have nothing to be ashamed of. I feel like if this person could change their surroundings maybe they wouldn't be going through such a difficult phase.

Group 2 🍾

"I accept the gifts I've been given as a high service to the world." Death, The Chariot, 3 of swords, Stop doing so much, There's no planet B! , Stand up for yourself rx

The person on your mind wishes to tell you that they feel stuck career wise and they don't know where they stand anymore. This person doesn't feel happy with their professional life as of now and they are afraid to leave whatever situation they're in because they have no idea where they would go or what they would do in such case. This person feels like they don't have what it takes to start over again. They wish they could move on and find something better, get closer to you possibly but they lack the strength and courage to do so. This person feels burnt out by their responsibilities and engagements. They're also afraid of criticism from their peers. On the back of each deck we have knight of swords & Close your eyes, close the curtains and sleep & "Attacking others is an attack on myself. I choose to release this now." They wish to tell you that they do not dare to speak up their mind for fear of rejection. They're afraid of their own light and power, as well as the effects their choices would have on the people around them. They're afraid of the unknown, of "losing" what they're used to. They're afraid of change. They're losing sleep over the fact that no matter how hard they try, no matter how much they think about it, they can't seem to find a way out or a way to change the outcome. On one hand, they know that where they're at right now is detrimental to them. But on the other hand, they feel like if they left whatever situation they're in right now, they would be wasting something beautiful and they could not go back. This person is afraid of taking responsibility and they feel very bad about themselves right now. They're in a dilemma and though they sincerely wish to put an end to this cycle, they can't seem to get themselves out of it. They wish they could tell you how exhausted they are and how hurt they are but they keep it to themselves because they do not wish to burden you with their struggles. Also, for some of you, your person sees you working really hard for your dreams and they're afraid that you're overworking yourself. They wish you would take the time to rest and take care of yourself.

Group 3 🎀

"My friendships support me, nourish me and inspire me." 10 of wands, 2 of wands, The Magician, I dare to declare my love, Please leave a message, Spread the love

I really like the energy of this spread. It's such a stark contrast to the other groups. They wish to tell you that, though they have a lot on their plate, you do not leave their mind and they still have a lot of hope for your connection. You are a source of motivation and inspiration to them. You are the reason why they get up in the morning and do their best every day. They wish to tell you that whatever you are going through, they still appreciate you and care for you. That should you need them, even if they're busy with their own things to deal with, they'll make time and space for you, to comfort you and guide you. They wish to tell you that you are so dear to them and that they're working really hard to be able to be closer to you. That may be true especially for those of you that are in a long distance connection. This person hopes to travel so that they can meet you. They're constantly day dreaming about you. They wish to tell you that you're all they care about and that they only have eyes for you. At the back of each deck we have Ace of pentacles, You are here & "Compassion is my compass. I am willing to hold space for the experience of others." The "You are here" card show an arrow pointing to the Earth from an outer space perspective and the Earth is right at the center of the galaxy from that angle. So they wish to tell you that you're at the center of their Universe. You occupy their thoughts at every moment of their life. I get the same vibe from the compassion card. They are willing to adapt and change things in their life so that you can better fit into their world. With this ace of pentacles, they wish to tell you that they would like to start anew with you or give your connection a new turn by making you an offer. I feel like this person would like to be in a relationship with you, regardless of what people may think and despite the challenges this may rise. It's like, no matter what, they're willing to make it work because you mean so much to them. Honestly this is so sweet.

[necroliberty]

So because this is amazing and because I am hyperfocusing on Gravity Falls. Let me share a bit of Amelia's long-lost sister, Kelly Ness. Okay, they aren't sisters anymore, but still.

Kelly fell on the blue grass of a random dimension. She wasn't the type to keep note. The atmosphere was different, somehow safe and dangerous at the time. But again, she didn't particularly keep a note on things like that. Kelly just made a bee line to a mailbox inside either various stickers added to the tin. Mabels had a knack to give stickers to everything. But Kelly just gave them a cursory glance as her right eye gave her the info on each. Giving the coordinate to each stickers place of creation. She should make note of getting stickers for respectives Mabels. Sometimes, it was the only thing that could tell Kelly where to actually send the damm things. Eventually, she opened the mailbox with a specific key and looked through the letters. Some were boring ads that she threw around. No one needed those. Some were Stanfords incredible writings, making sure to say exactly who and where it should be sent. Other times, it was Stanley's doing letters of his own. They were often hard to send back. Mabels were also there. It was obvious with how much stickers and colors her letters had. She practically never had to read the content to know exactly where to go. A bit more, and she was wondering if Mabels just knew the mailbox wasn't actually magic. The rarest were of Dipper and McGucket. For whatever reason, these two either didn't bother make letters or weren't the type to fall in a portal. "Or maybe they both want to be left alone?"

She blinked, and her right eye started to smoke under the intense heat. Forcing Kelly to keel over and grip her eye as the letters floated around her. Smoke from her eye, holding onto them with annoyance. Through her right eye, she could always see something the one who spied. Well, what he saw, to be specific. A mirror was right in front of the demon. A man in his early 20s with brown curly hair broke through by antlers that seemed to either spill ink or petrol from every imperfection in the wood. His eyes were big, staring down the mirror for some kind of stability. Not to mention his long tail swiping at the air behind him. His clothes were still looking like a preacher from a school play. He looked incredibly annoyed. This was a very bad day. "Vulture, do I need to remind you not to insult the likes of me so blatantly."

Kelly wanted to scream that this was stupid, and she was allowed to ask questions. But she also knew better. Days like these, you needed to placate him. So Kelly still held the expression of pain and started to add a quiver to her voice. "I am sorry, I didn't mean for my words to cause harm. I was a fool to even think it in the first place."

The demon stared at his own reflection, closing his eyes too to be able to see her. He vaguely shook his head, making some his hair made of leaves fall to the bed surrounding him. "No, not a fool, just a bad day." He looked down at his hands and feet. His hands were now made of wood, and his feet were deer hooves. He hated this form with such wrath. But his eyes told that he knew better than to take her acting as proof. He didn't trust Bill anymore than she trusted him. He finally closed his eyes again.

Kelly sighed as the pain stopped. She breathed slowly and normally not to let the right eye see her weak. All the letters she had dropped were now safely in her hands, and she looked through them again. Filing them into various pockets in her messenger bag. Making sure she didn't put a letter for the wrong timeline or dimensions.

When she was finally done, she walked away until she could find a loophole in the dimension. Leaving it behind to give letters to family and friends.

This is Kelly Ness as a Mailman. They don't get uniforms because she is the only one.

My smol mini series about the drifting stars au is here!! Ft letters to Dipper!! May do more depending on the reception~

[mysunshinetemptress]

Insight 4

Smarter universe

A/n: I feel like this one I might edit a bit more so a rerelease might cone idk I don’t really like my writing in this. it’s 1am and I wanted to give you guys another insight as promised. Also thank you to @womenwoso for helping with the logistics of this insight.

Leah hasn’t known what it’s like to not wake up and feel nauseous for the past few days, not since you left, but today it’s worse, today she goes to training and although she hopes you’ll be there in the back of her mind she knows you won’t.

Leah’s slow to get ready, slow to leave and slow to arrive to Sobha Reality training ground, she’s late and her teammates don’t understand why. Leah’s never late, you’re never late.

Leah checks in and trudges her way to the changing room where the rest of the arsenal girls are, slowly Leah pushes the door and walks making a b line for her locker before throwing her bag down and quietly getting ready.

Leah doesn’t miss the way the girls look for you coming in behind her like you usually do, and she definitely doesn’t miss the questioning glances between Steph and Alessia.

“Le where’s Y/n.” Leah shrugs continuing to get ready, her eyes glued to the floor. Steph steps forward “hey mate, where’s Y/n? She didn’t answer the phone to Less or I this morning.” Leah mumbles into her chest “I don’t know.” This only causes more confusion between the pair as Leah continues to put on her training gear.

“What do you mean you don’t know Leah you live together, you’re married to her for godsake” Leah feels her stomach flip “she’s gone-she left.” Alessia steps forward her own stomach dropping, gone, left. Where, why and why didn’t you text them or call it doesn’t make sense. “ She would have said something, why did she leave arsenal.” Leah shakes her head as she feels her emotions start to rise again “not Arsenal, not yet anyway.” Leah pauses tying her shoe “she left me.”

Leah hates that for a slight moment you’re the bad guy and that her friends support her, but it’s all a lie. Steph puts her hand on Leah’s shoulder comforting her “what happened.” Leah shakes her head the tears forming in her eyes as the feeling of getting sick intensifies “I cheated.” She lets out quietly so quietly that Steph is the only one to hear.

Alessia looks confused “what.” As Steph recoils her hand as though she’s just been burned “you did what.” Leah shakes her head “please Steph.” Steph doesn’t take pity on her instead she shouts “you cheated on your wife, on Y/n.”

The rest of the girls all seem to freeze as they turn to look at their Vice captain “you better be taken the piss.” Katie shouts from across the room.” But Leah’s silence is deafening “Leah.” Kim tries but the defender stays silent.

“She won’t answer our texts, our calls, how-is she safe.” Leah doesn’t answer she can’t answer she doesn’t know where you are, she doesn’t know you’re wrapped up in her bed in her childhood home holding on to her jumper as you sob.

“I don’t know….we…she talked and then she left.” Leah lets out, “who was it Leah.” Leah’s head turns to Lia and the knot in her stomach tightens “I-Lia.” Lia already knows, she wish she didn’t but she does “Leah.” Leah shakes her head “I didn’t-please- it-I don’t know it just-we just…please.” Lia feels sick and the room spins slightly at the thought that she had been introduced to HER months ago when Leah and her met up for coffee and SHE came bouncing over.

Steph has her phone out as she tries you again and again Alessia’s frozen “but what about everything-you guys were supposed to be having a family.” They don’t know Leah thinks of course they don’t know she didn’t know “we are.” The room seems to drop like a led balloon.

Leah’s up against a wall next Katie holding her shirt in her fists “please tell me your wife…who wants nothing more than a family with you…who we have all seen cry day in and day out over not being able to have a baby with you isn’t pregnant because if she is so help me god Leah.”

Again Leah’s silence is all it takes to confirm the team’s worst fears. “I don’t know who else to call.” Steph lets out painfully “everyone else is in this room” Leah gulps, your gone, you’re not answering your phone and Steph right everyone you love…you think of as your friends, family are in this room and once again the knot gets bigger.

Katie drops Leah back to her feet “Kim.” Kim looks at the Irish girl “you’re suspended”. Kim turns to Leah as the vice captain tries to protest “I don’t want to see you near this place until I say otherwise.” Leah nods packing up and heading out the door.

“Leah.”

Lia chases after her stopping just at the car park “please tell me that it’s not HER.” Leah shakes her head “I…” Leah’s interrupted by a car honking HER car as SHE pulls up beside the duo “Hey baby ready.” Leah turns and looks to Lia “I-i can explain.” Lia shakes her head “don’t bother, you’ve made your bed and clearly you still enjoy sleeping in it.”