#this is why i want to get a list of all the characters

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words

contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman

➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!

gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied. 

most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.

at least that’s what you believe most of the time.

you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.

you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past. 

he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?

these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).

they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark. 

what did your husband do for a living, exactly?

his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel. 

as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all. 

“what if he’s having an affair?”

you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”

today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep. 

“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”

“oh my god, could you imagine?”

“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—

“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”

“but he treats me so well—”

“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.

“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“right… thanks guys…”

that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.

you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”

“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake. 

“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”

“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours. 

it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.

“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.

he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.

you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.

he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”

“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”

“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”

“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”

“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”

you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.

it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back. 

at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction. 

then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later. 

you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine. 

as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease. 

your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.

his birthday?

an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.

your birthday?

wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.

the date of your wedding?

you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.

and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?

whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.

there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station. 

“ji-cheol?”

he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”

“what do you do for a living, exactly?”

a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“

“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”

“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”

“so he was right?”

he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road. 

“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.

he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.

“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”

you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough. 

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.

[sparks-and-smoke]

Hello! Could I get a fic about Bucky accidentally finding the reader’s Christmas gifts to him? Maybe he tries (and fails) to act surprised?

Thank you (ps I know it’s after Christmas, sue me)

Aww~ I don't care that it's too late for the holidays. It's cute! Merry Christmas (belated)

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x reader (code name honey)

Content/Warnings: none it’s just goofy holiday fluff

Author Note: merry late Christmas, this may or may not be loosely based in the Fate Stone AU I have brewing. (which since you are my beta reader ;) you already know about it.)

You are a notoriously bad gift giver, Bucky had been warned many times. He didn’t really care. As long as it came from the heart it couldn’t possibly be that bad. He could put up with socks or a cheesy mug as long as it came from you. But this was worse, so much worse. 

“Sam, I don't even know what to do with it.” Bucky rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands, confiding in the only other person he knew that wouldn’t immediately tell Honey. “Can I be honest here, it’s hideous.”

Sam was keeping a pretty good poker face over his mug poker but the situation was undeniably funny. “It can’t possibly be that bad.” But Bucky’s mortified face said it all. “Why were you spying on her gift away?”

“I didn’t mean too! Necessarily. She hid it in the bottom of the closet, man. She didn’t even hide it well... I’m a spy, I notice things. Plus it was pretty hard to miss.” The blanket had been tucked away in the back of the walk-in closet under a few other things. But the obnoxious colors of the corner peeking out from under the folded jeans had caught his eyes. They didn’t own anything in orange. Anything.  

His honey had gotten him a blanket, which would normally have been so very sweet seeing how Bucky hated being cold, but it wasn’t just a blanket. It was one of those viral blankets, the ones that are loosely based on 70’s rock band merch with lighting and thunder clouds rolling in the background. It’s featured pictures of Alpine, every goofy spastic picture of the cat that his girl could find with her name in the boldest font Bucky had ever seen. Honestly it hurt his eyes, and as Bucky went about describing it to Sam the other man damn near fell out of his chair. 

“That is perfect. No really I think she might be a genius. I’m gonna need a video of you opening that one.” Sam goaded.

“You're not helping.” Bucky growls, guilt twisting in his guts like a worm, but Sam was too busy laughing to try and give a shit. “How am I gonna act surprised now? Let alone be excited?”

“I don’t dude, I guess you need to start taking an acting class.” Sam wiped the tears from his eyes.

~~~~

Bucky watched with crinkled eyes as you opened your gifts from him. A nice wool winter coat because all you owned was a puffer, and while it was adorable on you and always kept you warm you always said you wanted something dressier for date night. And in your stocking an assortment of your favorite treats, skin care you were low on, and that perfume that you had been drooling over since October but always talked yourself out of because of the price tag. Bucky had been making a list since your birthday, keeping tabs on what you lingered on in stores and what you sighed at as you scrolled. He knew his girl and he knew her well. And the way you lit up with every item told him he hit it out of the park. 

“Do you like it Honey?” he asked, his chin propped on his hand. His face couldn’t have been softer or voice more full of love as he watched you glow with joy. 

“I love it. How did you even know what eye cream I use?” 

“It wasn't that hard doll.” Bucky laughed, it sits in a clear box on your vanity of course he knows. 

“Here! Open yours.” You hand him his stocking and the present wrapped in pretty silver paper, looking so excited you may vibrate across the floor. He plastered on his best game face as his stomach did a little flip. Do not ruin this for her Barnes. 

He starts with the stocking. Pulling out body wash and a cologne scented with that smoky bourbon and apple scent you were fond of, along with a small batch roasted coffee and some new gloves. So far so good, and he made sure to kiss you. “I love it honey.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t opened your big one.” you say with a twinkle in your eyes that makes him wanna melt into the floor. Should he tell her, confess he saw it? Risk it and pretend he loves it? 

“You’re right I haven’t.” he corrects himself with a smile picking up the package. It was instantly heavier than he remembered and as he tears open the package he has a brief (very guilty) moment of hoping that maybe he was wrong…

But no there it is. That hideous blanket that he knows instantly from the look on your face he is gonna end up snuggling under for the rest of time just to see you smile the way you are right in this moment. He opened his mouth to tell you thanks as genuinely as he could muster but honey was already biting her bottom lip. A fit of giggles falling out of her. “You already saw it didn’t you!” she managed to get out between chitters. 

“What?! No- I…” 

A pillow from the couch flew at his head. “I knew you would. You little sneak, you do this every year!” Honey chastised as Bucky dodged another swing with the pillow. 

“Hey! Whoa!” Bucky's arms go up in a weak attempt at blocking her little onslaught. “I didn’t mean too!”

“Bullshit James Buchanan!” thump, a hit to his ribs. “You did it on your birthday.” Whack, a bump to the top of his head. “You somehow sniffed out the tickets I bought to Coney Island.” one more swing but this time Bucky caught the pillow, pulling you into his lap with it. 

“I did not do it on purpose!” he defended, but he was beaming. Eyes crinkling in the corner as she glared playfully. “I didn’t!” 

“Yeah, you just somehow stumbled upon the blanket I hid under the laundry in the back of our closet.”

“I was looking for my coat!” 

“On the ground?”

Bucky was caught, because yes he had been looking. He always did. The man couldn’t help it, he always was just too curious. “Yea, I thought so you little rat! Do you like it?” she asks earnestly. And Bucky feels that gnawing feeling again, trying not to let it show on his face. 

“It’s… super fluffy.” he tries to deflect, hating to lie to honey, but her face is already breaking into a grin. What the hell?

“You hate it.” she beams. “It’s hideous huh?”

Bucky frowns, slouching back in his chair. Did she want him to hate it. “Uh, yeah it is..” 

“Good thing it’s not your actual present huh.” 

Bucky's eyes narrow. “You little-” She did this on purpose, hid the most outrageous thing she could find just to punish him for spoiling presents. Clever girl. Weeks of fretting over how he was gonna pull this off and SHE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. With a giggle honey climbs off his lap and back behind the couch, pulling out a slim package from the cavern behind, and Bucky’s face nearly splits in half. 

“Here. Merry Christmas.” She offers him the parcel with a kiss, sitting in his lap as he unwraps it, and he feels his heart flutter a little. It’s a scrapbook. Full of pictures of him, her, Alpine and their friends. Taken by everyone who has known them the last few years. There isn’t a lot, he doesn’t like taking pictures, preferring to take them. So she must have scoured their friends' phones to find all of these and Bucky can feel tear picking the backs of his eyes. Good tears. 

“Thank you Honey. I love it. I love you…”

[mamawasatesttube]

kon sweetie im so fucking sorry that someone would even say something stupid like that oh my god.

[some-ghoul]

I'm gonna ramble for a minute for something that's been eating at me ever since this dropped. I find it wild the amount of flak and hate this video is getting and from chuds who are now going to videos a decade old and saying "they've always been bad/jello fell off".

I should preface saying; I fucking love one piece. It's one of my favorite pieces of media and I have tattoos to show my love for it. I've grown up with this, I've watched the entirety of it and read it to its current release, I've done so for the past 20 years. So I really mean it whenever I say this series is important to me!

This video AIN'T fucking wrong about the points it makes and it's criticisms it has!

Luffy's last heartfelt interaction with a crew member of his was Whole Cake (before that was probably pre-time skip at Sabaody)

Anyone who isn't the big 3 don't get nearly as much screentime whenever things are happening or having a bigger role besides exposition/needs to be rescued

Don't fuckin lie to yourself about women having shit rep in OP

The sexualization of characters is a real fucking issue that so many people have with the series.

The 2 types of women in one piece boob and butt or shaped like a wide bowling pin.

Oda who has multiple times stated, "We could really learn a thing or two from Shojo writers" WHILE REFUSING TO EVEN TOUCH ON WHY PEOPLE WHO ENJOY SHOJO WOULDN'T EVEN GIVE OP A CHANCE

The series is really over-bloated with so many side characters where injuries/death means as little as it would in dragon ball I'm listing more just watch the fucking video

I had an interaction with someone who doesn't even stay up with it, watched the video, and then went, "yea I dunno he was a little mean to Oda I think that's fucked up". Brother, if this was any other random manga author you wouldn't even bat a fuckin eye about the jokes made at them. You just got a take from the comments and decided that's the one you're going with it.

Fuck, then there's the group bringing up the whole dubbing thing and like. I'll just be honest. If you're trying to spin a story to me about someone who got a dream job position, hired to do a show they hated and has pretty queerphobic rep, and instead they say tuck that and do it their way? I dunno man, that's pretty fuckin cool of someone who wouldn't compromise for their morals.

Someone tried saying one of the characters in the cut section was a trans character so it's just virtue signaling more than anything and I'm like, "ok. What pronouns do you use for Yamato then?? You apparently really care about the representation of queer folk so, OBVIOUSLY, we're not gonna have a bad discussion about this yea?"

This isn't even me trying to be like, oh I gotta defend my favoritest widdle guy who I have loved since forever. I'd do this shit on some randy who just dropped this with no other previous content!! Just because someone finally laid it all out there and took shots at the guy who's never really been criticized harshly for the bad stuff in their long running series of 25+ years and the mistakes they've made throughout it doesn't instantly invalidate the genuine issues the series has!

Also the Franky joke is funny! I sure would love more stuff to be done with that character IF ODA DECIDED HE WOULD WANT TO DO SOMETHING WITH THE CREW THAT WASN'T JUST FROM THE EAST BLUE!!

The first So This is Basically in many a moon.

CAST & CREW

WRITER/ANIMATOR/NARRATOR - Me! ARTIST - Bo Hello MUSIC - PLASTERBRAIN

MACHVISE - William T. Sopp PRINCE GRUS - John Van Doran MORLEY/CARROT/SHITTEN☆FARTER - Zack Maher DON KRIEG - Jason Marnocha ZORO - Cyrus Rodas VIZ USING TWO HYPHENS INSTEAD OF AN EM DASH - Oz Ryan ADDITIONAL VOICES - Ryan Palmer

[sailorrhansol]

Santa Baby | JWW (m)

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is stuck working on Christmas Eve in hell on earth. You decide to pay him a little visit to cheer him up - and give yourself a good laugh. 

Word Count: 1,400

Genre: Established Relationship 

Type:  Fluff, Humor

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Cranky reader, children slander because the author (me) is a childless wench, some light suggestive talk at the end, explicit language, a single chaste kiss. 

A/N: Merry Crimbus Malison Jederson. You wanted mall Santa and by god, I fucking wrote mall santa lmfaooooo please enjoy this borderline self-insert of what it’s like to experience the mall right before Christmas in that weird holiday-liminal space. 

A/N 2: For @kkaetnipjeon's Haliday request

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliday’s Request Event

Christmas Eve at the mall should be illegal. It’s most certainly a hazard to your health as yet another family bumps into you with their handful of demons - children - nearly knocking you into the swing sign at Victoria Secret telling you to buy something so someone could unwrap you. 

You would love for someone to be unwrapping you right now in the warmth of your home in the sheets that smell like laundry detergent and spicy cologne. The man who would do the unwrapping, however, is currently only available to the population of the world’s most hellish mall. 

Which is why you’re in said hellish mall in the first place. 

Christmas music blares over the speakers of the mall. The smell of grease and the distinct scent of cheese drifts from the food court. Your stomach rumbles, not for the burnt taste of Sbarro pizza but at the thought of going home and finally digging into a proper meal. 

That will have to wait, though. 

Smack in the center of the mall is a towering platform decorated like a winter wonderland. Occasionally, a snowblower from somewhere on the second floor shoots out foam, turning it into the North Pole proper. It earns a combination of screaming in delight and terror from the mostly-kid population waiting in line to walk up the metal catwalk to the top of the winter wonderland where Santa is waiting for them. 

Sighing, you get in line, by-stepping a little girl covered in sticky candy cane residue as she runs from her mother, tears streaming down her face while screaming she doesn’t want a picture with tanta. Well, you’re not sure who tanta is but you can’t blame her, looking at your watch to see it’s nearly eight o'clock at night. 

The line moves sluggishly slow. You shift back and forth on your feet, scrolling mindlessly through social media. The mother in front of you accidentally knocks your phone with her purse as she shifts one of her screaming children from one arm to the next.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, bouncing the baby in an attempt to soothe him. You wince. You get it - she doesn’t have it easy. “And sorry for his screaming.”

“That’s okay, I think it’s a requirement for kids to scream during the holidays. It’s like an instinct.” 

She laughs. “Is this one yours?” 

You look to where she’s pointing. There’s a child standing next to you with snot running down his nose and a grinch t-shirt on with several questionable stains. He looks up at you with big brown eyes, blinking and asking, “Dada?” 

“No, definitely not.” You point to the father swiftly coming over to scoop the child, an apologetic look on his face. “That’s dada, buddy.” 

“Dada,” the kid agrees, turning to reach his arms up as he’s scooped up and taken away from the line. 

“Oh.” The woman in front of you frowns. “No kids? Just here to see Santa yourself?” 

“Yes. I want to ask him to destroy all the Cybertrucks.” 

“Oh.” End of conversation. 

One less friend and an infinite amount of line to go, you flip through your work emails, cringing to see how many people think it’s appropriate to send you emails on Christmas Eve. Don’t they know you have a line to stand in for forty five minutes? 

You think about asking Santa to send all your coworkers away like Kevin on Home Alone, but realize you’d still be expected to take on all their work. Maybe you should ask for the destruction of capitalism. That seems like a world-wide benefit. 

Finally, the line moves forward significantly. The metal catwalk twangs underneath your boots. You lean on the greasy rail, listening to the musical styling of Mariah Carey as she earns yet another number on her paycheck as foam snow blows overhead. 

In a weird way, it’s not terrible. You look around, drinking in the miserable families just trying to take a last second holiday photo, late shoppers scrambling to get the last of their presents before tomorrow morning, the kitschy decorations making up the mountain with Sana’s chair somewhere at the top. 

You grin, feeling a sense of nostalgia as the line moves forward again. It might be an annoying way to spend your evening, but there’s no denying there’s a bit of magic in the air, even for capitalism Christmas. And Sbarro pizza. 

Finally, you near the top landing. There are elf workers helping take photos and managing the line while Santa sits on a gold chair with velvet cushions. His robes are equally as red, nearly blending in with the seat save for the white beard and hair and the slightly askew glasses as the little kid in his lap knocks him in the head. 

Coughing to disguise your laughter, you watch as Santa delicately removes the child from his lap and gives a hoarse ho ho ho before sighing and readjusting to accept the next family. He doesn’t see you in line, entirely focused on lifting up the little tyke in front of him into his lap to ask what he wants for Christmas.

The teenage elf working the line looks you up and down, raising her brow as she chews her gum. “How many?” 

“Just me.”

“Oh. Ummm. Alright I guess. You get five minutes with Santa. Please don’t go over time. Your photos will be available at the kiosk downstairs. Take this ticket and they’ll print them.” 

You take the piece of paper from her. “How much are photos?” 

“Fifty bucks.”

“Jesus Christ, do I get to kiss him on the mouth too? Why is it so expensive?” 

She stares at you before turning over her shoulder to see the family leaving. “I don’t make the prices. Your turn - and don’t kiss Santa on the mouth.”

Shoving the ticket in your pocket, you mutter under your breath that you can actually kiss this specific Santa all you want. The Santa in question turns to greet you, halfway through his greeting when he sputters,” Ho-ho- holy shit what are you doing here?” 

“Wow, what terrible language, Santa Baby.” You grin, plopping yourself on his lap. Wonwoo nearly drops you as you do, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight. “You smell like cheese.” 

“It’s the food court,” he mutters. “It won’t leave me, I swear.” 

“Gross.” You adjust his glasses, heart fluttering. “You look cute.” 

He does, in a weird way. Not because the giant suit and the beard and the hair are flattering, but because you know it’s Wonwoo underneath it all. Wonwoo who somehow got roped into covering for Mingyu as a mall Santa for the evening, Wonwoo who is a little bit overwhelmed by kids but eager to make them laugh anyway, Wonwoo whose grip tightens on you a little, eyes sparkling at your arrival. 

“Do I?” 

“No, but I like you anyway.” 

“Alright, pose with Santa,” the photographer says. 

Both of you ignore him as Wonwoo laughs. “So,” he hums. “Have you been naughty or nice?” 

“Well, I drove an hour in traffic to come to this shitty mall and then fight for parking for another forty-five, got run into by a bunch of families, stood in line and got called dada or mama like four times, all to come see my boyfriend and make his night a little better.”

“Got it. Nice list.” 

You brush stray white hair from his beard. “Definitely nice list.” 

“Thanks for coming to see me.” He hugs you a little closer, softening. “It’s really sweet of you. I’m off in an hour.”

“Good. I’m hungry and I want to watch The Muppets Christmas Carol with my own personal Santa Baby.” 

“Is that what’s on your Christmas list?” 

“Yes. And for all the Cybertrucks to be destroyed.”

His laugh is jovial. You think Wonwoo’s laugh outranks Santa any day, full-bellied and cute. You feel your affection swell, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips despite the teenage elf telling you not too. Too bad she doesn’t decide if you get to kiss your boyfriend or not. 

“Hey!” She yells behind you. “I told you not to kiss Santa!”

“I’ve gotta go,” you laugh. “I think I just made the naughty list.” 

“I’ll see you at home?”

“Mhmm.” You think of the Victoria Secret sale sign. “Come unwrap me.” 

-

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[kaliforniahigh]

birds of a feather, we should stick together - n.s. (part one)

Best friends to lovers, fake dating and best friend Noah <3

Warnings: a mean character, curse words, Noah makes fun of fine line tattoos, lies and reader trying to fit in to the best of her abilities. If I missed something, let me know!

Part 2 is in the works and coming soon!

WC: 4.3k words.

Requests are closed for now / Click here to be added to the permanent tag list <3

To say you were overly excited to meet up with your high school friends would be a total lie. When you told Noah they arranged a lunch date, to remember the good old days, he scoffed, and asked you why you even stayed in the group chat with these people.

Truth is, they weren't all bad. Acually, most of them were pretty nice, It was the Regina George of the group, also known as Jade, who fucked up the vibes.

Jade was a mean girl, and she never understood why you were friends with the awkward emo kid, with the side-swept bangs. This emo kid being your best friend, Noah Sebastian, who was the first person you met when you enrolled in a new school, in the middle of the school year.

It was 6th grade, and you had just moved to Richmond, VA. Your dad was transferred, so you had to find a new home, in a new city.

You and Noah became friends fast, being paired up by your English teacher during reading classes, you talked more than you actually read. He found out, that even though it didn't look like it, you enjoyed the same bands as he did. And that you learned to play acoustic guitar from a pretty young age.

You told him that your dad was in a band during his college years, but, due to adult responsabilities, it became more of a hobby for him than anything else.

Soon, the two of you were inseparable. Walking down school corridors together, him going to your house to do homework, and showing you around the city on the weekends.

You were the one who took school more seriously than him, and you were the one who ended up going to college and getting your Master's degree right after. But he was the one who always took you to watch his band practice, who took you to watch his friends - who were always much older than the two of you - perform.

When you were both 15, Noah told you he was going to drop out of high school. You weren't too happy, because you wouldn't have your best friend with you anymore, but you always knew the time would come, and were surprised he didn't decide to do it much sooner.

And that's how you met Jade and her friends. You weren't popular by any means, but, one day, she approached you and asked you how you styled your hair so nicely, and how she loved your pink tips.

You wanted to tell her that your best friend helped you. When you told Noah you wanted a splash of color in your hair, he went to the store with you to buy the necessary things. He wanted you to do purple, but you settled on pink. You remember him huffing in annoyance, telling you that pink was such a boring color.

At home, he helped you with the back of your head, while you spread the vivid color on the front pieces. It turned out amazing, and you joked that he could be a hair stylist if this band thing didn't work out.

Noah and Jade never really got along. The first day they met, Noah was picking you up from school, waiting for you in the parking lot. You remember Jade making a backhanded remark about his tattoos and the way he dresses, and Noah's face turned sour immediately.

After that, anytime they were in the same vicinity, shady comments were thrown by both of them. Noah always commenting about how the bleach in her hair must've gotten to her brain, and Jade commenting about how Noah was a wannabe rockstar.

Noah asked you many times why you kept her around, instead of dumping her and finding new friends, and you always explained how it wasn't that easy.

This was high school, and everyone already had their group of friends, not really being keen on letting other people in. Besides, without him there, and without the girls, you truly had no one else.

At the end of the day, he understood. Noah himself had a hard time making friends, and to this day, he never understood how someone like you decided to befriend him. He knew how being solitary could ruin your years in high school.

Now, sitting in this overpriced lunch spot they found downtown, you were contemplating your life choices as you tried to eat your Caeser salad without grimacing. All of them ordered fucking salads, and you did the same, not wanting to be the only one ordering chicken parm.

"Girlies", Jade said, wiping her mouth with a napking and setting it back down on her lap. "I know this is a reunion, but I have such good news", she clapped her hands excitedly. Typical Jade, always wanting the attention on her.

Everyone stopped eating to pay attention to what she was saying.

"So, you know how Peter proposed to me last year, right?", everyone nodded yes. "We're getting married in two months!", she exclaimed, reaching inside her Louis Vitton bag and pulling out what seemed to be wedding invitations. "And all of you are invited!"

The girls cheered and started to hug her, you did the same, expressing your happines for your friend.

"It's going to be in the Bahamas, in an all-inclusive resort", she informed, handing out the wedding invitations. Meanwhile, you were wondering with what money you were getting your ass to the Bahamas.

"Peter is paying all the expenses, for everyone, so don't even worry about it", she said, as if reading your thoughts.

Jade got engaged to the kind of person everyone thought she was going to date. Peter was a hot shot plastic surgeon based in LA. You had no doubt he racked up millions of dollars every month just fixing people's faces. Jade herself had something new done everytime you met up.

"What about you, Y/N? Who are you bringing as your plus one?", Emma asked. You guess you zoned out and missed part of the conversation.

"You're bringing your boyfriend, right?", Lily chimed in.

Did they even know if you had a boyfriend or not? You looked around the table, all the girls waiting for your answer. You didn't know what to say. Suddenly, your eyes noticed all of their beautiful engagement rings, and you didn't have the courage to say you were still single.

"Yeah, of course", you answered, hoping you were convincing.

"Uhh, that's amazing! Who is he?", Jade asked, excitment coating her voice.

Shit. Who the fuck would you say is your boyfriend?

"Noah", you said. He was the first person to come to mind, and you didn't hesitate to say his name.

You saw Jade's face twist in a frown.

"You're dating Noah?", she asked, judgment evident in her tone.

"Hmm, yeah, for a while now", you were lying through your teeth at this point.

"Well", she shrugged. "I guess it was always gonna happen anyways", and just like that, the rest of the girls went back to their conversations, while you mulled over what the hell you had just done.

You were already gonna tell Noah to come with you to the wedding the moment she handed out the invitations, which, was going to be a difficult task in itself, since Noah held a grudge against Jade to this day. But you were sure you could convince him with the all-inclusive resort argument.

Now, not only did you have to convince him to go with you, but you had to tell him you told the girls you were dating?

You were already thinking of excuses not to go.

When everyone was finished with their meals, they slowly started to say their goodbyes. You did the same, giving each one of them a kiss on the cheek as you made your way out of the restaurant and to your car.

When you got in, you instantly fished your phone from your purse, dialing Noah's number.

"You need saving from the botox bitch?", Noah answered the phone. You rolled your eyes, but laughed anyway.

"I'm already leaving the restaurant, actually. I was calling to ask if I can come over"

"Since when do you call to ask if you can come over?", he asked, confusion in his voice. He was right, you usually just showed up.

"I don't know? To make sure you're home?"

"You know I'm always home"

"Can I comer over or not?", you asked again, a hint of fake annoyance in your voice.

"Of course you can"

"Then I'll see you in fifteen", you said, hanging up the phone and starting your car.

On the way over to Noah's house, you've been thinking about how you were going to break the news. You still had a little while to think about what you were going to tell him, but, you knew that as soon as he saw your face, he'd know you were hiding something from him.

So, without an actual plan, you decided to tell him today. That way, you wouldn't have to torture youself for days with this information, and you gave him more time to prepare. That is, if he even decided to go.

You trusted your abilities to convince him, though. Noah had a history of doing whatever you wanted just to see you happy, and you never took advantage of that, but desperate times call for for desperate measures. Besides, a vacation to the Bahamas, with all expenses paid, didn't seem all that bad. Even if you had to endure Jade for a few days.

Parking outside, you gave yourself a pep talk before leaving your car and locking it behind you. Using your spare key, you unlocked the front door and made your way inside the living room, announcing your arrival by calling Noah's name.

"I'm right here, what are you yelling for?", he answered from the couch, the PS5 controller in his hands. You just shrugged in answer, and sat next to him.

Grabbing your purse, you pulled out the fancy wedding invitation Jade had handed to you, and set it on the couch beside him and between the two of you. Grabbing it and reading what was written in gold letters, Noah's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh, so the queen of botox is getting married to the king of botox?", you gave him a sideways glance, but smiled at his nicknames for the couple. It did suit them, after all.

"Yeah, they are. Jade couldn't help but announce it today", you pointed out.

"Well, are you going?", he asked, setting the invitation back down.

"Hmm. It depends, I guess", you answered, avoiding his eyes and you could tell he already clocked that something is wrong.

"Why?", he asked, a little hesitant.

"Jade said we can bring a plus one"

"Yeah, you usually can at weddings"

"And I was thinking....", you trailed off and looked at him, seeing the exact moment the realization dawned on him, and he immediately started to shake his head.

"There is no way", he said, getting up from the couch and walking over to the kitchen. You got up as well and went after him.

"Why not?", you asked him, a little bit of whining in your voice.

"Are you seriously asking 'why not'?"

"I mean, I know you don't like her, but c'mon, this is gonna be a nice wedding. Besides, it's in the Bahamas, and Peter is paying for everything", you argued.

"Is it's because it's in the Bahamas, I can pay for a vacation for us in the Bahamas, no problem", he crossed his arms against his chest.

"It's not because of that"

"Y/N", he stepped closer towards you. "You know you can just go alone, right?"

"I can't go alone", you huffed in annoyance, because his argument was totally valid, but you did not have that option anymore, all because of your big mouth and will to please everyone.

"Why not?", he asked, confusion etched all over his face.

"Because...", your shoulders slumped as you realized the gravity of your mistake.

"Hey", he grabbed your shoulders, sensing your discomfort. You were never uncomfortable around him, so this behaviour from you scared him a little bit. "You can tell me, what is it?"

"I told them I have a boyfriend", you say, voice low and a little embarassed.

"But you don't have a boyfriend", he observed the obvious, having difficulty in understanding where you were going with this.

"I told them it was you", you looked down towards the floor, fingers going to rub your forehead as you waited for his reaction. The seconds ticked by, and the silence ate you alive.

"You...", he started, but stopped himself in his tracks, head going over what you just told him, to make sure he got it right. "You told them we were dating?", you answered with a head nod, still looking down.

"Y/N", he said your name with a little bit of annoyance lacing his tone. He looked up at the ceiling, as if willing the heavens to give him the strength to deal with you.

"I know, I know", you say, looking up at him. "It was just that they were drilling me about this and I didn't know what to do!"

"Tell them you're not dating anyone?", he deadpanned, and you hated that he kept stating the obvious.

"Yeah, but they already see me as the odd one out, what are they gonna think when I tell them that I'm almost thirty and not dating anyone? They're all engaged, for fucks sake!", you exclaimed and started to pace around the kitchen.

"You worry about what they think of you too much", Noah pointed out. He hated the way you felt like you always had to please them, they way you always thought you had to fit in into their world.

"It's ok, I'll just come up with an excuse so I don't have to go to the wedding", you waved your hand, dismissing this conversation. You were already feeling your head start to throb. You made your way to the couch, grabbing your purse, and the invitation.

Behind you, you hear Noah let out a big breath, before softly calling out your name. You stopped in front of the door and turned around to face him.

"You owe me big fucking time", he pointed a finger at you, and you couldn't help but let a smile dance over your lips.

"You're gonna do this?", you asked, a little doubtful.

"You're doing my laundry for two weeks", he comprimised. "No, three weeks. Fuck it, you're doing my laundry for a whole fucking month"

You cheered at this, not minding it one bit. His laudry was easy since he only had black clothes.

You skipped your way over to him, reaching your arms up and circling them around his neck to pull him into a hug. You couldn't see, but he had a smile on his lips as well.

At this moment, Noah thinks he would do just about anything to keep you happy.

"At least she can't make fun of your hair anymore", you observed, as you parted from him. He groaned in reply.

"Don't fucking push it", he warned you, but there was no real threat to his words.

"Oh!", you snapped your fingers as you remembered an important information about the wedding. "I forgot to tell you something"

"What is it?", he asked, looking at you sideways in suspiscion.

"It's at an all-inclusive resort", you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. "Besides", you continued "Jade's probably gonna invite so many people, we won't even cross paths with her", you observed.

"I hope you're right"

To say you had a lot of time to prepare was a lie. Time flew by incredibly fast, and in between work, choosing a dress and picking up a suit for Noah - who complained endlessly about having to wear it, you argued that he can't wear a black tank top to a wedding, and he huffed and puffed even more - you were only one day away from boarding the plane.

You were going over everything in your suitcase. Another thing Noah was going to complaing about, you can hear his voice in your head asking you why you needed so much stuff. You zipped it up when you decided that obsessively thinking if you forgot anything was not going to make you magically remember something.

You texted Noah that you were ready for him to pick you up. You both decided it was best if you slept over at his house, and he was asking one of the boys to drive you over to the airport for practical reasons.

It wasn't too long before you heard honking outside, signaling Noah's arrival. You took everything you needed, and looked around you to make sure you locked everything up, and when you were satisfied with your quick inspection, you walked over and opened the front door.

Noah was opening the trunk when he saw you.

"Don't say anything", you raised your hand up to stop the words you were sure were going to stumble from his lips. He raised his arms up in surrender and didn't say anything. But, he did make overexaggerated grunting noises as he hauled your bags inside the trunk. You ignored him and went to lock your front door instead.

Getting in the car and driving away, you pulled your phone from your pocket.

"Jade already texted the flight information", you observed.

"At least she's competent", he retorted.

"Imma need you to try and be civil, at least. Remember we're going to enjoy the beach and drinks", you reminded him of what you've been saying for the past weeks. "And you can't call them botox queen and botox king".

"If she doesn't talk shit about my tattoos, we'll be fine", he argued back.

"Her husband has tattoos", you pointed out, as if that makes the situation any better.

"I bet it's some fine line pussy ass tattoo of a lion or some shit like that", he grunted in annoyance, remembering he's gonna have to deal with Jade AND her husband.

"You know what?", you rubbed you chin in thought. "I think it actually is", you pondered, and you both couldn't help but cackle out loud about the fact that he was most likely right about the tattoo.

The rest of the day went on without a hitch. You ordered some food so you didn't get any pans or pots dirty before traveling, and soon, you were both ready for bed, since you were leaving pretty early in the morning to catch your flight.

You were getting comfortable in Noah's left side of the bed, when he came in the room, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, joining you under the covers.

Plugging your phone to charge, you turn to look at him, doing the same.

"Did you set the alarm?", you asked and he hummed a yes. "Did you set it really loud?", he hummed in reply once again.

He knew you got anxious whenever you had to do something important in the morning. You always thought some entity was going to disable the alarms you set on your phone and you wouldn't wake up in time.

"Don't worry, we'll get there with lots of time to spare", he reassured you, and opened his arms so you could lay against his chest.

Sleep found you easily, as it always did whenever you and Noah slept on the same bed. You were used to sleeping in an empty house, since you've been living on your own ever since you moved for college. But to say your sleep was calm and serene was a lie.

With him, you felt safer, like he could protect you from everything and anything. You trusted him more than you trusted anyone else in your life.

Noah, wasn't as tired as you were, and he contemplated how these days were going to go over as he waited for your breath to even out. It was a ritual of sorts whenever you two slept together. He always waited for you to fall asleep first. And, sometimes, when you had difficulty sleeping, he sang some soft tunes, or rubbed your scalp the way he knew you liked, and that always did the trick.

Next time you woke up, was with Noah's shrill alarm ringing on the bedside table. He really did set it really loud, because you were groaning and telling him to turn it off. He woke up with a yawn, disentangling his arm from under your torso to finally quiet the alarm.

Yawning and stretching your limbs all over the bed, you heard Noah chuckle beside you.

"You're like a damn cat, stretching like that", he pointed out, looking at you with a smile on his face.

He always thought you were the most adorable in the morning. Your hair was a little messed up, and your eyes were all tired and fighting sleep. A part of him wished he could just pull you back to rest beside him and resume sleep. But, the trip from hell awaited the two of you.

Getting up from the bed, he announced he was going to brush his teeth and take a shower, meanwhile, you busied yourself gathering all of the suicases and backpacks downstairs.

As soon as Noah left the bathroom, you went in there and did your morning routine as well as you could with your stuff all packed away. Luckily, you kept a few things over at his place for convenience.

Changing into something comfortable for the airport, you made your way downstairs and found Noah dressed in usual sweatpants and hoodie combo.

"Did you grab your sleep mask? I won't lend you mine this time", you told him. Last time, you had to endure a whole flight without your sleep mask, because Noah had forgotten his, and you had no heart to tell him no when he asked to borrow yours.

"Yes, ma'am. I grabbed my sleep mask", he answered. "I already texted Jolly, and he's on his way to pick us up".

"Did you lock everything up?"

"Yep, already checked the entire house while you were showering"

Noah was used to this. You had a ritual everytime you were travelling, and he learned that getting ahead of you was the best thing to do. That way, you wouldn't get stressed with things he didn't do, or forgot.

Right on cue, you heard a horn souding outside, Noah opened the door and was greeted with Jolly waving from inside the car.

"Ok, let's go", you clapped your hands in a "chop chop" motion.

On the way to the airport, Noah and Jolly chatted on the front seat, while you went over the flight details on your phone, making sure everything was in order for check-in. Noah hated airports, so he left you in charge of everything he found boring.

The drive was short, and soon, you were bidding Jolly goodbye at the drop off zone, and you didn't miss the little pat on the back and the "good luck" he wished Noah before getting back in his car and driving away.

Checking-in, you and Noah found a place to sit while he grabbed some breakfast for the two of you. While you sat there, eating and waiting, you were reminded of a very important detail that you forgot to discuss with him.

"Oh, my God! I totally forgot to talk to you about something", you exclaimed, swatting him in the chest to get his attention.

"This is the second time you forgot to tell me something about this wedding trip", he said.

"When they ask us how we got together, what are we gonna tell them?", you ask him. You've been going over all the lies you'd need to tell during this trip, and you realized that you and Noah didn't have a game plan at all.

"That one day, you professed your undying love for me and then we started to date?", he said, as if the answer was obvious, but you could tell he was sprinkling a little bit of sarcasm in there.

"I'm serious, Noah", you huffed, looking at him. "We have to be beliveable, otherwise, they'll catch on, and ruin the whole thing"

"We can just tell them that we realized we wanted to have something more than just a friendship", he suggested, and the idea wasn't so bad. Jade always said you'd end up together from how much time you spend with each other.

"Out of nowhere?"

"No, we've been hiding our feelings, thinking that the other didn't feel the same way, until, one day, I told you I liked you and you told me you liked me too", you rubbed your chin, thinking over his plan. "It's not overcomplicated and if we stick to the same story, we'll be fine", he reassued you. "Besides, Jade is so self-absorbed she'll probably not even ask anything about us at all"

"That's very likely", you agreed with his reasoning. After all, it was Jade's wedding, so the light is gonna be on her, and not on you and Noah.

"What about PDA?", you broached another subject that you've been avoiding.

"If you wanna kiss me, you can just ask, you know?", he teased you, nudging you with his shoulder.

"It's not what I meant, and you know it", you told him, but you weren't able to hide the little blush covering your cheeks, and he noticed too, by the way he was grinning.

"I can hold your hand. I mean, I kind of already do. But let's just go with the flow. You don't have to worry too much about this, it's just a couple of days, after all", he said, and he was right. You and Noah meshed well and were usually in the same wavelength, so there was no reason to think things were going to go south.

You just hoped you had time to relax and enjoy the beach, the drinks and the foods, which, if you knew Jade as well as you did, were going to be impeccable.

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[stuckinmymind22]

zoro x gn! reader

wc: 663

this is the first part of a series "you're in love with me" where you realize that they are in love with you can call them out on it

thanks for voting on this one, i had fun with it, sorry it took so long, i got busy with the holidays, but it’s here now 💕

ace's is done and will be up probably tomorrow and i'm gonna start on sanjis, but lmk if you are interested in any other characters

not proof read lol

this goes one of two ways, in both you're being called stupid, both included

it's a chose your own adventure babe!

zoro has been acting strange recently- he was almost too quick to come to your aid, even if it was something you both knew you could handle alone. he’s also been making sure that you eat. recently he brought up a plate for you when you were on duty in the crow’s nest. sure, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink, but that was easy to write off as a consequence of the alcohol that was surely in his veins. but he didn’t leave right away like you thought he would, he stood on the ladder without moving until he saw you take your first bite. on the last island there had been a miscalculation in your provisions and the ship was running dangerously low on alcohol. there was no doubt that the crew was going to run dry shy of meeting their next destination, which was a bigger deal to some of the straw hats than others. it all brings you to the moment he offers you a sip of the last bottle of sake. you’re speechless. you always thought that hell sure would freeze over before he shared his booze and here he is willingly offering you some. you’re trying to figure out what was going on in his head, why he has been acting so strange, then it hits you.  “you’re in love with me.”

denial is a river in egypt

“did you hit your head or sum?” he asks, trying to remain as impartial as possible, but you didn’t miss how he nearly choked at your words. “no, zo, this makes sense,” you say connecting the dots, "you've been acting real weird about me recently, this explains it." you aren’t about to back down from this, not after you wanted this for so long, not until he admits it to himself. “you’re being an idiot,” he rolls his eyes, “do you want some or not?” with a smile you grab the bottle out of his hand and take a swig, sitting down next to him. “i don’t mind you know,” you say taking another sip, “that you love me that is” zoro is confused why he is so drawn to the dangerous smile that plays on your lips. he shakes himself out of it snatching back the bottle and taking a long gulp. you get pulled away by luffy wanting something, but he still feels your presence.  little do you know how those words haunt him for the rest of the night. fuck, you might be right

he's down bad and he knows it

“n-no I’m not,” zoro sputters, his face alight, “are you stupid or something?” “no, no, this is why you’ve been acting strange,” you say, the weight of your revelation still sinking in. “that’s why you haven’t let me out of your sight for the past week, right?” you don’t give him time to respond (not that he would be able to formulate a coherent response anyway). you continue listing all of his abnormal behaviors and fail to notice how his face grows redder with your every word. poor zoro is sinking into his seat hoping to disappear he’s so uncomfortable. he’s certain that he messed everything up and has no idea what to do now. he knows that you’re right of course, it’s kept him up at night, kept him from his precious naps. it took him a while to realize why you never left his mind, and the determining factor came from the fucking cook spewing some bullshit to a pretty woman on the last island. just when he is certain that he ruined whatever relationship you could ever have you turn to him with a big smile.  “it’s a good thing you are though, or else this would be awkward,” you tell him, before he can even think to question what you mean your lips are on his and his brain malfunctions.  maybe it’ll be alright.

masterlist

[ao3-shenanigans]

I have a confession, and a question. I have rewritten my longest fic to-date a total of six times and have an entire extended universe planned. The problem is, I only make progress if I'm writing it out by hand. The slower pace of writing with a pen or pencil forces me to pause and think far more often than typing and makes it much easier to deal with grammar and spelling errors down the road. It also has the great side effect of helping to keep Writer's Block from taking hold. How do you deal with writer's block?

Ah man, writers block hits me so hard!

Some tips and tricks I’ve heard that help:

1. Make a short-term outline

- maybe not the whole plot but rather a short scene or set of scenes. Ex:

(1) Character A picks a fight -> (2) Character A looses fight -> (3) Character B finds them and takes care of them

2. Make a list of things you would want to read in a fic

- be self indulgent! This is your fic after all!

- listing moments you’d like to have can sometimes get the creative flow excited again

Ex: Jon and Martin kiss, someone calls Elias a Saucy Minx and he has to put up with it, Sasha gets to stab Peter, Tim gets to have a sick day where people take care of him

3. Write scenes out of order!

- write that sappy epilogue first if you want!

- stab that sad little man! Figure out why it happened later!

4. Write a few sentences or scenes from a different perspective

- can be that of a different character, an animal watching, a passerby or even an inanimate object! 

5. Write with a friend! Co-authoring a fic or even parallel writing can help with motivation

6. Write a one shot while taking a break from Your main project!

- sometimes something short and sweet can get the dopamine flowing again

7. Write by hand!

- the old notebook trick!

- or even changing the font sometimes helps!

8. Don’t allow yourself to edit or fix typos!

- let yourself ramble on to the page for a bit! You can’t edit what’s not there!

9. Read someone else’s work!

- fanfic or traditionally published work! Mix it up!

10. Re-engage with the source material!

- remember your roots!

11. Change the weather!

- maybe the fight isn’t working in the rain, but how about sleet or snow? Searing desert heat?

12. Change the format of the fic

- try writing it in second person or as a screen play

13. Leave bits out

- start with only the dialogue or only the setting descriptions

14. Talk it through with a friend or fandom buddy!

- explain the story and ask them questions, brainstorm answers together

15. Remember that it doesn’t need to be perfect!

- getting fixated on plot holes or mischaracterization can be detrimental to enjoying the act of creation that writing is

- as fanfic readers, we genuinely don’t mind that much; its the whole “Holy shit two cakes!!” situation, the fact that you’re willing to share this thing you’ve written and labored over with us for free is a gift in and of itself

- have fun! Be silly! Don’t fret about it!

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 6

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki  @helightknight21 @dylsw @ria-s-writes @sleepymothafterhours 

if you wanna be added to the tag list comment

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Masterlist

Here is another chapter cause I'm still writing out the other fics right now :)

Previous

Chapter 6: The Weight of Loss

Y/N’s POV

It’s almost comical how different my life feels when I’m at school compared to when I’m at home. At Pratt, I’m a student, focused, and driven, with an entire future ahead of me. The campus is buzzing with the usual energy—students chatting, the sound of sketch pads flipping, the hum of distant studio lights. But the weight of everything outside these walls presses down on me more with each passing day.

It’s been weeks or days since the breakup with Sukuna.The loss of our relationship feels longer than the time we actually broke up but it feels like the echo of it still reverberates in everything I do. I’m trying to push forward, trying to act like I’m okay, but the reality is… I’m not. I haven’t been okay for a while.

The work in front of me should be enough to distract me. Finals are coming up, and my portfolio still feels like it needs a hundred more hours of attention before it’s anywhere near perfect. But I can’t stop my mind from drifting back to that night—his touch, his voice, the way he looked at me when he left, the pain in his eyes I couldn’t fix.

I sit in one of the studio rooms, surrounded by scraps of fabric and sketches, trying to focus on the design I need to complete for my final project. My hand trembles as I draw out another silhouette. It’s difficult to concentrate, especially when my phone buzzes on the table.

I don’t even need to look to know if it's from Utahime. She’s been checking in on me regularly. She doesn’t understand everything, but she knows enough to ask if I’m okay.

I pick up my phone, hesitating for a moment before responding. Yeah, I’m good. Just a lot of work to get through.

It’s a lie, but I don’t want to burden her with the truth. Everyone has their own problems, and I don’t want to be the one who drags them down.

I scroll through the texts, my heart dropping when I see a message from Toji. It’s just a short note, nothing particularly alarming. Sukuna's in the hospital. He’s okay, but he had a breakdown. You might want to check on him.

I read it three times before I let it sink in.

Sukuna’s in the hospital.

I bite my lip, the sting of old wounds coming back. What’s going on with him? Why does everything feel like it’s falling apart? I don’t even know how I feel anymore. I spent so much time loving him, fighting with him, then pushing him away, only for him to spiral deeper into whatever this is. And now, he’s in the hospital… alone?

I don’t even have the right to care, do I?

I put my phone down, my hands running through my hair as I try to make sense of it all. What should I do?

There’s a knock at the door, and I look up, startled. Utahime enters with a cup of coffee in her hand. She smiles when she sees me but then stops when she notices the look on my face. She doesn’t even need to ask.

“Something’s wrong,” she says gently, placing the coffee down in front of me.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Sukuna’s in the hospital,” I say quietly. The words feel so surreal coming out of my mouth.

Utahime doesn’t speak for a moment, just nods, as if she knew this might happen. “You’re thinking about going, aren’t you?” she asks, her voice soft.

I shake my head, my chest tightening. “I don’t even know what I’d say to him, Utahime. I—” I stop, the emotions threatening to spill over. “He played with my feelings, and I let him. I gave him everything, and now... now look at us.”

She sits next to me, her presence comforting. “You don’t have to go to him if you’re not ready,” she says, her hand gently brushing mine. “But don’t ignore what your heart is telling you. Sometimes it’s easy to get lost in anger or pride, but if you care about him, and you think he needs you—maybe you should go. Just to know he’s okay.”

I stare at the coffee in front of me, the steam rising gently. I feel so torn. Part of me wants to throw it all away and run to him, to make things right, but the other part is terrified of what that would mean.

“I’m just… so tired, Utahime. Tired of trying to fix everything,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t think I can keep doing this. I don’t want to keep getting hurt.”

She leans back in her chair, giving me space. “You don’t have to fix him. You just have to decide what’s best for you. It’s okay to care about him, but it’s also okay to take a step back. You don’t owe him anything.”

I nod slowly, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift. If anything, it feels heavier.

As much as I want to ignore the message, as much as I want to pretend everything’s fine and keep moving forward, I know deep down that the story isn’t finished yet. But the question is, how do I make peace with it? How do I let go of the part of me that still wants him in my life?

I guess I’m going to have to figure it out, even if it hurts.

I stare at the message from Toji, my thumb hovering over the reply button. I could feel the tension building in my chest, the pull to cave in and see him, to check on Sukuna, to offer whatever comfort I could. But I can’t. I won’t.

I text back quickly, trying to keep my answer as firm as possible, even though doubt gnaws at me. Yes. I’m sure.

I put my phone down and take another sip of the coffee Utahime bought for me. The warmth soothes me, but it’s not enough to quell the rising discomfort I feel. Maybe I’m running away from something I should confront, but every time I think about him—about everything that happened—my chest tightens. I know I’m not ready to face him.

Mei Mei sits beside me, her usual confident and laid-back demeanor a welcome distraction. She smiles at me, her eyes bright despite the obvious tension in the air. “I heard you’ve been dealing with some drama,” she teases, nudging my shoulder playfully. “You always seem to attract it, huh?”

I laugh, but it’s hollow. “Yeah, it seems like it. Just trying to get through finals without any more drama.”

She leans back in her chair, clearly not convinced. “If you say so, but I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s bothering you.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone. What’s going on?”

I set the coffee down, rubbing my forehead. Mei Mei’s known me for years. She doesn’t give up easily, especially when it comes to stuff I’d rather keep to myself.

“It’s… complicated,” I say, sighing deeply. “Sukuna’s in the hospital.”

Mei Mei’s expression softens. “Hospital? What happened?”

I explain the basics—the fallout from our breakup, his breakdown, and the fact that it seems he’s been spiraling for months. As I talk, it feels like I’m peeling back a layer of myself I’ve been trying to keep hidden.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” I continued, my voice shaking slightly. “But now… I just feel like I made it worse.”

Mei Mei listens, her face serious. When I finish, she doesn’t say anything at first. She just looks at me for a long time, her eyes calculating, like she’s trying to figure something out.

“You can’t keep carrying his weight, Y/N,” she says gently, her tone softer than I expected. “He’s not your responsibility anymore. I get that you care, but sometimes stepping back is the healthiest thing you can do—for both of you.”

I nod, trying to hold it together, but her words sink deep into my chest. I know she’s right. If I keep going back to him, trying to fix things that aren’t mine to fix, I’ll just keep breaking myself in the process. But knowing that doesn’t make the choice any easier.

I reach for my phone again, checking for another message. There’s one from Toji.

Y/N, I know you’re upset. I get it. But you need to understand he’s really struggling. He’s not the same guy anymore. Please, just think about it. He’s not okay.

I feel the weight of the message, the silent plea in his words. It almost makes me want to go. But no. I made my decision.

I turn my phone face down, looking back at Mei Mei. “I’m done with it. I need to focus on my future. On me.”

She smiles, a little proud of me. “Good. It’s about time. You’re a strong woman, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

I lean back in my chair, feeling the exhaustion from the last few months hit me all at once. Finals are coming, and I don’t have the luxury of letting my emotions run the show anymore. I have to finish this. For me.

But even as I sit there, I can’t ignore the small ache in my heart, the part of me that still cares, that wonders what could have been. For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine a different reality, one where everything with Sukuna was easier, where we were happy and I didn’t have to make these impossible decisions.

But that’s not my reality. Not anymore.

Toji's POV

I stare at the screen of my phone, Y/N’s last text still lingering in front of me. Yes. I’m sure.

The words hit harder than I expected. I knew she wasn’t going to just drop everything and run to Sukuna, but hearing it from her directly… it stings. She’s shutting him out, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Nothing any of us can do.

I glance over at Sukuna, still out cold in the hospital bed, his breathing steady for now. He’s been through hell these past few days, and I hate to admit it, but I’m worried. Despite all his bullshit, the bravado he puts up like a fucking wall, he’s broken. And it’s not just the aftermath of Jin’s death or the guilt he carries around like a fucking anchor. It’s more than that.

I thought, maybe if Y/N came, it would snap him back. But she’s not coming.

I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair. The room feels too quiet now, even with the constant beep of the heart monitor in the background. The silence between me and Sukuna is almost deafening, and I can’t shake the sense of impending disaster that hangs in the air.

I think about what Y/N said—how she couldn’t keep carrying his weight. And part of me gets it. She’s right. I told her before that Sukuna wasn’t the only one who needed to get his shit together, but I guess… I didn’t expect her to walk away. Not like this. Not after everything.

I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if we’d all handled this differently. If we had talked more, not let everything fester. Maybe she wouldn’t have had to make that decision. Maybe Sukuna wouldn’t be lying here, broken and lost. And I wouldn’t be standing here, feeling fucking useless.

Sukuna murmurs in his sleep, his hand twitching slightly, and I look back at him. He looks so different when he’s not putting on that mask. I can see the fear, the guilt, everything he hides away in his waking hours. It’s all on display when he’s vulnerable, like this.

He whispers something under his breath, and I lean in closer, straining to hear him.

“Y/N… I’m sorry…”

His voice cracks, soft and fragile. He doesn’t even know I’m here. Doesn’t know I’m watching him break down piece by piece. But I heard it. He said her name.

It’s fucking killing me to watch him like this.

I stand up, running my hand over my face, trying to shake off the weight of everything. I can’t do this. I can’t fix this. No matter how many times I try to tell myself that this is his fight, not mine, I can’t stop feeling like I’m responsible. We all are.

I check my phone again. Y/N hasn’t replied. I don’t expect her to. She’s made up her mind, and honestly, I don’t know what I would say if she did respond.

All I can do is sit here and wait, hoping that Sukuna pulls himself out of this hole he’s dug. He’s going to need all the help he can get, but I’m not sure I can even be that for him anymore.

I glance back at him one last time before walking out of the room. Whatever happens next is out of our hands. I just hope for his sake, he’s not too far gone to fix it.

I step out of the room, needing some space to breathe, even though the weight of everything is still pressing down on me. My phone buzzes again. Another message from Y/N. I don’t look at it. I can’t. Not right now.

The hallway feels emptier than usual, and I’m just about to sit down when I hear footsteps approaching. I glance up, already knowing who it is before I see their faces. Gojo’s impossible to miss, his presence like a fucking storm in the calm. And right behind him, Geto, walking with that same quiet intensity he always carries. They're holding bags in each hand, the smell of fast food wafting into the air.

Gojo gives me a lazy grin like he's just come back from a fun afternoon instead of dealing with a pile of shit that’s only getting worse.

“Got you something.” He waves the KFC sandwich in the air, the crispy fried chicken peeking out from the wrapper. “Figured you could use something real to eat. You’ve been looking like you’ve been living off hospital snacks.”

I glance at him, but I’m not in the mood for a joke. I just stare at the sandwich for a second before nodding. “Thanks.”

Geto just raises an eyebrow and slides a bottle of cold Coca-Cola into my hand. "It’s cold. Thought you could use a little sweetness with all this shit."

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I take the sandwich, unwrap it, and take a small bite. The taste is oddly comforting, and for a moment, it feels a little bit of normal. But only for a second. My mind is still a million miles away, locked on Sukuna, on Y/N, on everything that’s been happening. I can’t seem to get a grip.

Gojo leans against the wall casually, clearly unaffected by anything going on, while Geto remains quiet, eyes focused like he’s waiting for me to crack. The silence stretches, uncomfortable in its own way.

"Is he awake?" Gojo asks, breaking the tension, his voice light but his eyes searching mine for an answer.

I take another bite of the sandwich and sigh, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Yeah, but he’s not really there. Talking in his sleep… saying her name. Y/N."

The mention of her name hangs in the air for a moment, and I watch as Gojo’s expression shifts slightly. He doesn’t show it often, but I know he can’t be completely oblivious to what’s happening. Not with how tightly he and Sukuna have been bound, even when things were rough.

“I’m sure he’s just… in his head,” Gojo says after a pause, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly struggling with his own thoughts. “He’s got a lot of shit on his plate.”

Geto’s expression hardens slightly. “He’s not the only one, Gojo. Y/N’s been through her own hell. She’s not just some side character in his story. It’s never been that simple.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gojo mutters, though he doesn’t seem entirely convinced by Geto’s words. He glances back at the door where Sukuna lies, still deep in his own turmoil. “We all know what happened between them. It’s fucked up, but that doesn’t change what he’s going through.”

The words cut through the tension like a blade. I swallow the rest of the sandwich, my stomach growing heavier with the implications of their statements. The more I think about it, the more it feels like we’ve all fucked up in our own ways. We’ve all allowed this to spiral out of control, and now, we’re left picking up the pieces.

“I get that he’s hurting,” I say, voice tight, “but what do we do now? What can we even do? She’s not coming, Gojo. She’s done.”

The words feel bitter in my mouth, even though I know they’re true. Sukuna has lost her, and there’s no going back.

Gojo and Geto exchange a look, the silence dragging on as the weight of the situation settles in. Gojo pops the cap off his own bottle of Coke, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You just keep pushing forward,” Gojo says after a moment. “You don’t get to wallow in this shit. That’s not how it works, Toji. You just keep moving forward. That's all you can do.”

I’m about to respond when I hear a low murmur coming from Sukuna’s room. The door creaks open slightly, and I glance toward it, the worry clawing at my insides again. Gojo stands up and gives me a pointed look.

“Let’s go see how he’s doing,” he says, voice more serious now, and I can hear the weight of his words.

We all walk to the room, our steps heavy with the unspoken truths we’ve been avoiding. Inside, Sukuna stirs in the bed, his eyes barely open but wide enough to see the panic in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispers, almost like a prayer, his hand gripping the bed sheets tightly.

The room feels cold as we stand there, watching him struggle with the demons only he knows. His words hang in the air like a knife, cutting through the silence.

“Maybe we can fix this,” Gojo mutters softly, more to himself than anyone else. "But not like this."

I watch Sukuna’s face, the same man who used to be full of fire and rage, now broken. Maybe Gojo’s right—maybe we keep pushing forward. But even I know, with everything that’s happened, there’s no easy fix to the mess we’ve created.

Sukuna's POV

I’m trapped in the in-between, stuck in the land of the awake but not living. I can hear them talking, but my mind refuses to connect. Every word that escapes their lips feels like a blur, and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear about Y/N or Jin or my own damn self.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor is the only thing grounding me in reality, reminding me that I'm still here, still breathing, even if it feels like everything else is slipping through my fingers. The voices swirl around me, but none of them cut through the fog in my mind. Not even Gojo’s voice, not even Geto’s.

Y/N. 

Her name lingers in the air like an echo I can’t escape. It’s all I can think about. How I fucked things up. How I hurt her. How I lost her. I can’t get away from the image of her, standing there in her apartment, looking at me with those eyes—those brown eyes I used to drown in. Eyes that no longer saw me the same. Eyes that were filled with pain.

My stomach churns. I want to scream, but the words catch in my throat.

My younger brothers.

Yuuji. Choso.

I’m supposed to be their older brother. I’m supposed to be strong for them. They’ve lost so much already, and I can’t afford to lose them, too. But if I keep spiraling like this—if I let this guilt eat me alive, if I let my demons drag me under—then what happens to them? What happened to me?

I’m supposed to protect them, but I’m barely holding myself together. I can’t keep breaking like this. I can’t keep letting everything fall apart just because I don’t know how to deal with the shit that’s happened.

I’m supposed to be better. Better for them.

But how? How do I fix this? How do I fix myself when everything feels broken beyond repair?

I hear Gojo again, his voice louder this time. "He's just... lost in his head right now. We can't help him until he helps himself." It’s all I need to hear to understand that I’m not getting any sympathy here. Not from any of them. They know me too well.

And maybe that's what I need.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to block out the pain. Maybe if I don’t open them, I won’t have to face the reality of what I’ve become. A broken man. A fuck-up.

But the truth is, I can’t run forever. I can’t stay in this fog of regret and self-loathing. I don’t want to be this version of myself. Not for my brothers, not for anyone. I’ve been here too many times before. Spiraling, falling, too afraid to face what’s staring me in the face. I’ve always been this way. But I can’t afford to be anymore.

I can’t let myself be the reason they lose me. Not when I still have a chance to fix it.

I hear Geto’s voice again, softer this time. "Sukuna... we’re here. But you need to come back. Come back to us." His words hit me harder than I expected, and I feel the weight of them pressing down on my chest. Come back to us.

I’m not sure how, but for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself feel something other than numbness. A crack in the wall I’ve built around myself. A tiny opening to a possibility that maybe—just maybe—I can still get out of this.

But first, I have to face the one thing I’ve been running from.

I have to face myself.

“Y/N,” I whisper to no one in particular, my voice hoarse, rough. "I'm sorry."

I don’t expect anyone to hear it. Hell, I’m not even sure I believe it yet. But it’s the first step. And for now, that’s all I can give.

I open my eyes slowly, squinting at the harsh fluorescent lights above. The hospital room is sterile and unfamiliar, and for a second, I forget where I am. But then it all comes flooding back—the weight of my actions, the destruction I’ve left in my wake, and the realization that I can’t keep hiding from it.

I don't even remember when I said it, but those two words still echo in my mind: I'm sorry. They were the first words I’ve said aloud in what feels like forever, but they carry so much weight. So much guilt.

I sit up slowly, feeling the ache in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s from the panic attack, the guilt, or just the overwhelming sense of being broken. But whatever it is, it makes it hard to breathe, to think. To feel.

Gojo is still here, his presence just as obnoxious as ever. But there's something about him being here that gives me a sense of stability like maybe he doesn’t expect me to be perfect, but he’s still here, regardless. And Geto... Geto is just sitting there, staring at me like he’s waiting for me to get my shit together. Maybe he’s right. Maybe they both are.

“Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "How did I get here?"

Geto looks up from his phone, catching my eye for the first time in what feels like forever. “You’ve been here, Sukuna. You know the drill. You need to pull yourself together, for them.” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it. He’s tired, I can tell. We all are.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice cracking. "For them."

It’s a mantra I’ve been repeating to myself for weeks now—for them. For Yuuji and Choso. They’ve lost so much already, and I can’t be the one to break.

But I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how to fix this. How do I rebuild what I’ve destroyed? How do I fix myself when I’m not even sure who I am anymore?

Gojo leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re not alone in this, you know.” His words are blunt, but there’s something softer in his eyes. He doesn’t say it often, but I can see it. The understanding.

"I know." I don’t meet his gaze, my eyes locked on the floor. It’s easier that way. “But I still fucked up, Gojo. I messed it all up.”

Geto sighs heavily, shaking his head. "You didn't just mess it up. But that doesn't mean it’s over. You’ve got to take responsibility for it, man. For her... and yourself."

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. The words feel like they’re stuck in my throat. But then I think of Y/N. Her face, her eyes... the way she looked at me when I ruined everything. I see her pain in every single interaction we had before it all came crashing down. I can still feel it. The way she’d retreat from me, the way she’d pull away. And the way I never truly let her in.

"I didn’t mean for it to go like this," I finally whispered. "I never meant to hurt her."

“You need to talk to her, if she’ll allow it” Geto says, standing up and moving closer. “And if she’s willing, maybe... maybe you can fix it. But you have to start with yourself first.”

I feel the weight of his words, like he’s trying to lift me out of the quicksand I’ve been sinking into. But I’m stuck. I’m stuck in the guilt, in the shame, in the regret.

“What if she doesn’t want me back?” I ask, barely above a whisper. "What if I’ve already ruined it too much?"

"You won’t know unless you try," Gojo says, stepping forward. “You can’t undo the past, but you can at least try to make the future better. For her. For you.”

I feel something shift inside me, something small but significant. Maybe it’s hope. Maybe it’s just the desperation that’s been eating away at me. I don’t know. But it’s there, and for the first time, I let myself feel it.

Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, I can start rebuilding—starting with myself. I have to try. For Y/N. For Yuuji. For Choso. For me.

I stand up, feeling the weight of my body shift. My legs feel weak, but I force myself to stay upright. Geto watches me carefully as if waiting for me to collapse, but I don’t. Not this time.

I might not have all the answers, but I know one thing for sure.

I’m done running from it.

“I’ll fix it,” I murmur, barely believing the words myself. But I have to say it. I have to believe it.

For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel so alone. Maybe I’m not as far gone as I thought. Maybe I can still fight my way back from this.

Maybe I can still be the man I used to be.

the nurse filled in, "We tried to contact your emergency contact yn ln but they didnt respond. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?

The nurse’s words hang in the air, thick with unspoken tension. I feel the room grow heavier as they linger, and I find myself grasping for a response. Y/N’s name still feels like a foreign sound on my lips.

I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come. What would I even say? She won’t answer me anymore. Not after what I did. The silence stretches between us, suffocating.

"I have—" I start, but the weight of it stops me.

Before I can finish the sentence, Toji speaks up, his voice cutting through the thick air like a knife.

"You can take my information. What do I need to know?"

I look up at him, and for the first time in what feels like days, I feel a bit of relief. Toji, as blunt as he is, never lets me down. He’s been here since the start, and I know, deep down, he’s always had my back, even when I didn’t deserve it.

The nurse nods, taking out her tablet and entering Toji’s information with practiced ease. It’s almost like they’ve done this a thousand times before, and maybe they have. Maybe they’re used to people like me. People who screw up their lives and end up here, needing a reminder that they’re not completely gone yet. That there's still a chance.

But I don’t know if I believe that.

I watch the nurse leave, and the silence settles back into the room like a heavy blanket. Toji stands there, looking at me with something between concern and resignation. He doesn’t need to say anything. I know exactly what he’s thinking.

"Stop blaming yourself," Toji finally says, his voice low, but firm. “You're not in this mess alone, and you’re not gonna fix it overnight. But you’ve gotta stop running from it, or you'll end up buried.”

I can feel his eyes on me, watching for any sign of weakness, but I can’t give him that. I can’t give anyone that. Not after everything.

"I know," I mutter, my voice barely audible.

Toji shrugs and moves to the side, making space in the small hospital room. "We all fucked up, Sukuna. But it’s not the end of the world. You’re still here."

The words settle somewhere deep inside me, somewhere I didn’t even know was still capable of feeling something. I look away, pretending the words don’t hit me the way they do.

But I can’t stop thinking about Y/N.

Her face. Her eyes. How she would look at me when I failed her. The way she pulled away.

I failed her.

But I still want to fix it. God, I want to fix it so badly that it hurts.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do that. I’m not sure if it’s even possible. But for the first time in months, I feel like I can try. I have to try.

For me. For her. For everyone I’ve hurt.

“Thanks,” I say to Toji, my voice gruff and unsteady. "For doing this... for me."

He doesn’t respond right away, just gives me a sharp look like he’s waiting for me to crumble again.

But I don’t.

Not this time.

Instead, I stand up slowly, feeling the weight of my legs beneath me. There’s no escape now. No more running from my mistakes. No more hiding. I have to face this.

And maybe... just maybe, I can start with making things right.

For once, I don’t feel like I’m completely drowning. But the battle is far from over.

"I’ll make it right," I say softly to myself, more than to Toji.

The words feel fragile like I’m trying to piece together a shattered mirror. But I have to try.

I won’t be the man I used to be. I can’t go back to that.

But maybe, just maybe, I can be someone worth loving again.

For Y/N. For everyone I’ve hurt.

And for myself.

I’m finally being released from the hospital. The sterile white walls feel like they’re closing in as the nurses hand me a prescription for the medications I’m supposed to take. But I don't care about that right now. I just want to go home. I just want to breathe again.

The ride back to the apartment feels like it takes hours. The air in the car is heavy with the weight of everything I've done, everything I’ve messed up. I haven’t spoken a word the whole way. Toji’s driving, the only sound between us was the soft hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of the road beneath the tires.

When we get to the apartment, I’m not sure what to expect. The door’s wide open when I walk in, and there’s Choso, pacing back and forth. His voice rises, sharp and full of frustration as he glances over at me. His eyes are bloodshot like he hasn’t slept in days, and I know it’s because of me.

"Sukuna!" Choso shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, his face a mix of anger, pain, and worry. “What the hell were you thinking?! You scared the shit out of us, man!”

I flinch at his words, the sting of them going deeper than I want to admit. But I don’t say anything. I don’t have a defense, not for this. I can’t make it better with a few words. So, I stand there, silent, my head hanging low.

Yuuji’s sitting in the corner of the room, his eyes glued to the floor, his friends Megumi and Nobara beside him, looking as stressed as he is. The weight of it all crashes into me. I did this to them. I’ve been selfish, and it’s clear they’re carrying this burden with me.

Yuuji finally looks up, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm glad you're home, bro."

His words don’t hit me like I expect them to. Instead of feeling the relief I thought I’d get from hearing him, I just feel hollow. I’ve caused too much damage to fix it with just a few words. He shouldn't have to say that. I shouldn’t be the one causing him so much pain.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I mutter, the bitterness slipping out before I can stop it. "It’s not like I’ve been some fucking good example for you, right?"

Toji steps up beside me, his presence grounding. “That’s enough,” he says, his tone low but firm. “He’s home, and that’s what matters. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

Choso doesn’t let up though, his hands on his hips as he glares at me. "You’ve been running from everything, running from us, from yourself. We were worried you were gonna fucking end up dead, and now you’re back, but are you even gonna stay back?"

I want to answer him, to tell him that I’m trying, that I’m going to get better. But I know he won’t believe me. None of them will. Not after everything.

"Look," I say, my voice thick. "I’m sorry. I’ve fucked up, and I can’t fix everything in a day. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere right now."

It’s all I can offer, and I know it’s not enough, but it’s all I’ve got. I can’t be the man I was before. I can’t just wipe away all the mistakes I made with a simple apology. But maybe I can try to be better.

Yuuji stands up slowly and walks over to me. I brace myself, waiting for him to yell, for him to say something harsh. But when he reaches me, he simply pats me on the back, like he’s trying to offer something I don’t deserve.

“It’s good to have you back, Sukuna,” Yuuji says quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat growing. I don’t know if I’m crying or not. But it sure feels like it. Maybe this is the first step in making things right. Maybe not for everyone, but for me, for Yuuji, for Choso... and Y/N.

The tears come without warning, falling like a flood. I feel them before I even know they’re coming, a warm rush down my face, blurring my vision. I can’t stop them. Not anymore. I’ve been holding everything in for so long, trying to keep the pieces of myself together, trying to be the strong one for my brothers. But I can’t do it anymore.

My knees give way, and I drop to the floor, the weight of everything—of all the things I’ve lost, of all the things I’ve fucked up—crushing me. My chest aches, tight, like it’s too small to hold all the guilt, all the pain.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter through gritted teeth, though I don’t know if I’m saying it to Choso or Yuuji or even myself. My voice cracks, the rawness of it is unfamiliar and painful. “Jin’s gone because of me... and Grandpa... he’s gone. They’re both gone.”

The tears come faster, like a storm I can’t outrun. I can’t hold it together anymore. Not for anyone. Not for them. Not for myself.

I hear Choso’s footsteps, feel his arms around me as he pulls me up, but I don’t want to be touched. Not right now. I want to crawl into a hole and disappear, to not have to face any of this, to not have to be the one who let them all down.

“Grandpa's funeral,” I whisper, my voice ragged. “Our parents didn’t even show up. They didn’t care. They never did.”

The words sting, but it’s the truth. The truth that I’ve been running from for years. Our parents left us. They abandoned us, and the only one who was there, who gave a shit, was Granpa. And now he’s gone, too.

“I’m tired of holding this in,” I choke out. “I can’t keep pretending to be the fucking strong one. I’m... not strong. I’m broken.”

I look up at Choso, and his face is pale, but his expression is gentle. I can see the hurt in his eyes, but there’s something else there too: understanding. He knows. He knows what it’s like to lose, to feel like you’re drowning in your own shit. And maybe he’s the only one who can truly get it.

I look over at Yuuji, and his face is full of concern. He’s standing in the corner of the room, silent, but I know the words are there, sitting heavy on his tongue. He doesn’t need to say anything, though. The fact that he’s here—just here—means more than words ever could.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” I say, my voice low and broken. “I don’t want to be like this anymore. I don’t want to let everyone down. I don’t want to keep losing people.”

But I’m scared. Scared of what it will take to fix all this. Scared of how much of myself I’ll have to break in the process.

“I’m so fucking tired,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper. 

Choso pulls me close, his hands gripping my shoulders as if he can somehow hold me together. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, Sukuna. We’re here. You’re not alone in this. You never were.”

His words hit me like a lifeline, but the truth is, I don’t know if I deserve it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the person they want me to be.

But I know one thing: I can’t keep drowning in my own shit. I have to try to be better. Even if it’s just for a little while.

I’m home. But the journey to redemption? That’s just the beginning.

[manicpixiedreamedwins]

GINGERWREN'S PAYNELAND RECS 2024!

I can't believe we have had Charles and Edwin for less than a year. Even still, we've had a lot of fun! I wanted to share some fics, art, and gifs that made this year worth it for me personally. I was talking to a friend recently, and we noticed recent rec lists seem to be short, tag based lists with no real input from the list writer. Many of them also seem to rec the same few fics. Sometimes I feel left out as a smaller writer, and I know my favorite fics also don't always make it onto these lists either.

So, gentle reader, I will not be making a list of tags and summaries. You can read the tags on the fics and the art work, should you choose to view. I will be telling you why I love the works themselves. This is the best way I can think to recommend work to you.

Without further ado: the list is below.

WRITING

sweeter than honey from the rock - @dearheartdont

This lives rent free in my head. Literally in my mind this is like a lost episode or something. I do not want to spoil it or anything, but some of my favorite things in it are the world building (there are delightfully sympathetic clients, and witty antagonists), Charles does... exactly what one would expect Charles to do in order to help the client and protect everyone, and he makes things temporarily worse for himself. Rest assured though, there is a very, very satisfying resolution. Really, this is such a wonderful fic.

Winter Bloom - @skinnybritishdudes

PINK!!! EDWIN!!!! NOW!!!! This was my request for our server's Christmas exchange and it blew me out of the water. Genuinely, the magical mischief PLUS the subtle horror PLUS the absolute tenderness at the end?? Was everything I wanted, and more than I expected. Friendship ended with my own pink Edwin origin story. THIS is Pink Edwin now. Run don't walk for this one (as you can see, I still have not calmed down I am so excited about this one).

Nothing Left to Hide - @roseganymede95

I know I need to say more than "spider jar" but there's a point where I just start crying softly and going "spider jar" while I am reading. Honestly I'm sure if I said that to you, you would probably know which fic I'm referring to. It's this one. It's brilliant. It rewired my brain early on and I haven't been the same since. I found a spider jar pin because it may as well be canon in my mind. They call each other mine in the fic what more do I need to tell you to get you to read this? Join the spider jar cult with me.

right. never finished it.- taableclofh

A classic. Charles tries to save Edwin from Hell. He figures some things out in the process. (This is canon divergent in the best possible way and was a real balm on the soul, somehow).

molliculi (soft little things)- @williamvapespeare

This was made in a lab to make me cry specifically. The first time I finished reading it, it was two in the morning. I stared at my bedroom wall for like twenty minutes, bleary eyed, and then finally managed to type something to @williamvapespeare (who was really gracious about whatever mess I sent, lol). God fuck. It's a character study on Edwin. It's a history of living and dying in 1916. It's wondering what it means to continue on existing, but never have lived on with your peers. It's an outsider's perspective on Charles' trying to figure things out. Go. Go now. Suffer with me.

All Rights Reserved- @phoenix-soar

Do you like possessive Charles? (There's one right answer and it's yes). This fic is the fic. This also lives rent free in my brain. I wish I could say something more coherent but honestly I do not know how much I can say- well there is this lovely description where Charles compares Edwin's eyes to the sea on a stormy day (ao3 is sadly down, I cannot pull the full quote, but it was gorgeous). The rest... 🌶️🌶️🌶️

The Case of the Omegaverse Portal - miraworos

Omegaverse, as specified in the title. Also a very well written casefic, and some really satisfying feelings revelations. Once again: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

ART

Kiss (Blue) - @ent-is-indecisive

Genuinely A I am just amazed by how lovely all the kisses you draw are. Like they come out stunningly, over and over. I have no idea how you pull off this wizardry but it is amazing. Anyway I picked the first picture we ever talked about but I am also genuinely blown away whenever you drop something in LOMA

Collab Gifset For Payneland Week- @mellxncollie

I know you have all seen Ollie's gifs. If you haven't, what are you even doing? (Maybe you're new here. That's okay). It's something special when Ollie makes a gifset for your fic. Genuinely, sometimes I just go back and stare at this one because WOW THOSE ARE MY WORDS. BUT ON A GIF. Genuinely thanks for making my first year in the fandom special Ollie.

Pink Slip- @arisprite

Ari was super great during the flash sketch commissions and we had a blast. Now this reminds me of ongoing convos that @majorlb @deadboyslullaby and I have (and perhaps one day we will do something more with those) but the point here is Ari is great. You all should go and appreciate the wide range of payneland she has made. Her fem!payneland is dazzling, and so is her sad boy Charles (which I think is the first piece I ever fell in love with).

RITUALS - @deadboyslullaby

THE RITUALS ARE INTRICATE. This was a collaboration with @likemmmcookies . @deadboyslullaby worked really hard on the inscription around the edges for this one and I am forever in awe of all the little details here. I want more of them doing strange, arcane stuff together always.

ORBWIN IN CHARLES’ RIBS- @jube-art

This is absolutely what I think is going on when one of them is orbing and the other isn't. No I am not taking feedback. Once more, this was a piece of art that re-wired my brain early on. Ribs are for lovers.

BONUS:

Feathers and Fur - merle_p

Super secret rare pair that rewired how my brain works forever. I love you catcrow. I love you Monty that's a little bit depressed a little bit of a masochist. I love you Thomas who can't help but take in strays but still has teeth and hasn't been declawed in this fic. This fic is just... so... gorgeous*chef's kiss*. I won't spoil it for you, but I implore you to read it so I have more people to talk about this pairing with.

These were all my recs for now. Thank you Dead Boy Detective fandom 2024! We may have had some bumps in the road, but here's to a strong and healthy 2025!

[alicenpai]

🌟 ART SUMMARY 2024 🥂

this was a year where i didnt draw a lot, despite that, i tried to make every drawing count. thank you all for the support in 2024, here's to 2025 ! 🫶

⭐ [read more starts here]

i continued my goals from last year with regards to perfectionism. the tldr is that i strongly feel my perfectionism kept me away from completing as many drawings as i could, and i had to make an effort to just finish drawings no matter how lukewarm I felt about them. 2024 was a strange year, it came and went in the blink of an eye, even more than previous years! life has been stressful, so i've been trying to focus more on myself and taking time off drawing. ironic, although i think i succeeded in that above goal, i expected to get more drawings out of it, but ended up taking more time off drawing anyways. towards the end of the year, i started feeling more burnt out, and drawing became a slow and arduous process. i think part of the reason was because 2024 was my first year doing 5 events - 2 full weekend conventions (anime north and otakuthon), and 3 single day events (bamtori fall aapi market, toronto game expo, bamtori jinglebam market), when in the past 2 years i'd just opt to do 1-2 local cons. it was also my first time doing single day events, which were super chill! although you have to both set up and tear down on the same day, i felt more casual at those events, had more time to chat and look around. back to my point - despite being fun, doing so many events took its toll on me - especially during the colder months of the year, where i wasn't so used to going to events haha! usually i take fall as the time to rejuvenate and recover from summer events, but i couldn't really do that this year. i kept questioning myself, "does this drawing have appeal? will people buy this?" "is my art hireable?" and it's just not a healthy mindset to have. next year i'll try to draw more of what i enjoy and what's on my mind, instead of worrying too much if it's sellable! *feeling like the HAHA YES sickos meme* - 2025 art goals outlined below: - oc zine (aiming for a character guide with some test comics) - character interactions & poses! e.g. dancing, hugs - generally stuff that's more difficult to draw. my art is more illustrative, but sometimes i wished it was more engaging emotionally? like i want people to smile and cry with my characters... - illustrations that challenge me. when i say illusts that challenge me it's pretty abstract - do research and gather inspiration for every illust.. compositions that are difficult/complex and take a while to draft.. strong theme.. it's more for me to understand AHAHAHA. as the years go by you can see my art becoming more unified in theme and self indulgent... i want to keep going, i want to make art that is uniquely mine. less priority: - get used to sketching! truly miss how i used to fill up sketchbooks every year - sticker sheets (this is on the less priority list bc i will probably fulfill this goal regardless) - oc merch (happy with the stickers i made in the last 2 yrs, let's keep going!) - silly things! e.g. 4koma, silly doodles. comedy is an art, it IS a skill you can study and chip away at (e.g. comedians and comedy writers). make sure i take notes on really stand-out jokes i find funny & why

other various things to try and draw more of: - group pictures - animals - layouts and props. i find layouts and anything with hard surfaces difficult to draw, which is why i draw a lot of flowers and fabric LMAO. one thing i gotta do is start by either drawing characters holding props more (easy baby steps!) and/ or start drawing props around them and make my way towards harder things (e.g. practice drawing a character sitting, i'll start by drawing a simple chair, then a table, then objects on that table). this is also one of my weaknesses - draw the ground they're standing on if possible, e.g. characters standing on a grid - vehicles, if i can. i mostly draw stuff from fantasy series where cars don't exist LOL but i'll try...

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - September

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

August

---

You fluffed the cushions on the couch for the 13th time that morning, Ellie studying your actions from the small stool she was made to sit on as you flitted around the place tidying again and again for the God-knows-how-many-th time in the past hour. She was convinced you had gone crazy. All that was going to happen was someone was going to come over to look at your old room to rent. And yet, you were acting as if someone was coming in to judge the cleanliness of the house and throw you in jail if they so much as found a speck of dust.

She made the mistake of snacking on a cracker while watching tv, waiting for 10 am to come. And now that you’d finished vacuuming the couch again, you were taking your nervousness on the poor cushions.

“Beans, it’s okay. They’re not gonna say no just because the cushions are wonky.”

“You don’t know that!”

Tess told you a prospective renter was coming to see the room at 10 am. Set an amount for rent and utilities. Just be there at 10. No more, no less. That was it. That was all she said.

God, what if it’s some lady who hated kids? Or someone who didn’t like Ellie? Or worse, someone Ellie didn’t like? You were more than willing to accommodate, as long as they were nice to Ellie. You needed the extra income. It would put your mind at ease. The rent money and whatever you saved from shared utilities could definitely help contribute to Ellie’s college fund, and maybe you could have a chance at building your savings up again.

You were shocked at how quickly savings can deplete when someone died. The taxes, the funeral, the fees, the whatchamacallits that you had never known existed came to you, all requiring the swiping of a card or the signing of a cheque.

So when Tess asked you if you would consider renting the spare bedroom out, your only thought was Ellie. Would she be alright with some stranger living across the corridor from her? She had barely adjusted to being without her parents, and now a stranger might be moving in? Was that even a good idea?

Shockingly, when you asked her what her thoughts were, she just said, well, let’s meet some people. We’ll see, okay?

God, was she really five? How’d she get so matured all of a sudden? Two days before her parents left she was asking you why one shouldn’t eat boogers. And now she’s all wise? What was happening?

You, on the other hand, was a bit apprehensive with how Tess went about all this. You didn’t even put out advertisements or anything. Once you were on board she just skipped off, taking her phone out to call someone, and then telling you about the appointment.

It was all so strange. No numbers you could call or text, no description of the potential renter, just – be there at 10.

You heard a truck drive up and stopped next to your car. You didn’t even dare to look. You were so nervous, God knows why. You asked Ellie to stand up and hid the colorful stool you had made her sit quietly on in the coat closet. You brushed whatever imaginary crumbs she may or may not have on her person and told her one more time she could change her mind about this if she wanted to. She rolled her eyes at you and told you to open the door already.

You scrunched your face at her, smoothened your dress and opened the door before the person could even knock.

It’s not a woman. It’s a man.

And not just any man.

“Joel.”

“Hey, I thought that car looked familiar.”

“What are you doing here?”

He looked a bit confused. “Maria sent me, said you had a room to rent out?”

“I do, but…”

He looked a bit thrown by your hesitation. His face fell. “Did you not want to rent the room out?”

“No, it’s not that… it’s just… well, come in. I’ll show you,” you told him.

He came inside, toed his shoes off in the doorway and carefully slid it under the shoe rack you had there. He closed the front door behind him, frowning a little at the loud squeak it was making. Ellie came over and offered him a fist, which he took, a wide smile on his face. Hey kiddo. Hey old man.

He followed her lead into the corridor leading to the rooms. You shook your head a little, finally opening your old room for him to see, the door squeaking as you did so.

It was a girl’s room. Pink wall to wall carpeting, pink wallpaper, the white dresser complete with the movie star mirror and lightbulbs, a white closet, and of course, that white, very princessy queen sized bed Annie had bought for you. You didn’t even know if he’d fit on that bed. If he did, his feet would definitely get caught up in the metal swirls that was the foot of the bed.

He just stood there, looking around, and then going on to open the closet, the drawers, checking the bulbs on the mirrors all worked, shook the bed for sturdiness and sat on it, bouncing a bit to test the mattress. Then he looked out the windows, looking at the view of the school field across the road, opening and closing the blinds, switching the lights on and off, checking the HVAC vents, and then stood in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips looking around the room once more.

He looked at you, “Bathroom?”

“It’s next door,” Ellie answered for you when you were too stunned at his nonchalance over the pinkness of the room.

He gestured to the direction, silently asking you if he could take a look? Ellie pulled his hand to show him when you, yet again, did not respond. You heard her tell him he would have that bathroom to himself. He asked her where her room was, and she told him, telling him she will use the ensuite in your room. That one had a tub, she told him. You heard her open her bedroom door and showing him her room, much too small for anything but a single bed, and him mumbling some questions to her before the two came back into the pink room where you stood, still unmoving since you entered.

“You sure you don’t want this room?” he asked Ellie.

“Eww, no, it’s pink.”

He laughed, and you finally found your voice.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think Tess would send a man to look at the room. The previous owner used it as her sewing room or hobby room or something, and we haven’t changed anything since we moved in. My late sister-in-law sort of went crazy with the princess theme when she furnished it for me, since Ellie didn’t like the room at all.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind, unless - would you prefer to rent to a woman?” He suddenly looked nervous.

“No, I don’t mind, if you don’t. I just… it’s so pink, even I had a hard time living here before. You can change it if you want, I plan to redo the whole house anyway, someday. The house is so old, hadn’t been touched, basically since it was built. So, it’s a bit dated.”

“I can see that. Can I see the rest of the house?”

You took him to the kitchen, the laundry room, the backyard, and finally, sat him down in the living room, ready for him to say no.

“What’s the rent like?”

You told him. The utilities would be split right down the middle, telling him how much they were the previous month. He nodded, looking around the house once more, as if contemplating.

“We can discuss the rent and the split on the utilities further, if you prefer, I’m sure we could agree on a number,” you hurriedly said.

His eyes found you again. “No, that sounds reasonable. I’m okay with that number if you are. What about groceries?”

Somehow, over the next 30 minutes the two of you managed to come up with an arrangement you both were comfortable with. He looked at Ellie, who had spent the time you and him discussing the finances on her belly, watching some cartoon on TV.

“You okay with me moving in, kiddo?” he asked her, nudging her little legs with his socked toe.

She didn’t even look at him. Just shrugged and told him if he’s okay staying in the pink room, she’s okay with him living across the corridor from her.

He smiled, thanking her, before looking at you.

“When can I move in?”

**********

He moved in the very next morning, everything you saw him leave his marital home with in the bed of his truck. Ellie was making herself helpful, holding a corner of whatever he was carrying all the way from the front door to his pink room, before waiting for him to get another and doing the exact same thing again. She was mesmerized by his guitar case, asking him if he could play for her one day. He immediately opened it, and she audibly marvelled at the guitar, running her tiny fingers on the strings.

“Ells sweetie, be careful with that. It looks expensive, don’t touch things that are not yours okay?”

She immediately pulled her hand away, apologizing to him.

“No, it’s okay,” he told you. “Kids are curious, that’s a good thing.”

God, you forgot he’s a teacher. He’s used to this.

He played a song for her. He didn’t sing, just plucked at the strings – a simple tune you had heard in elevators and while waiting for calls to be connected to a customer service rep. Ellie was smiling the whole time, her eyes watching as his fingers deftly plucked at the strings, completely mesmerized by what she was seeing and hearing.

She thanked him when he was done, leaving him to unpack. You closed the door behind her, thanking him for entertaining her like that. He nodded, giving you a smile as he unzipped his suitcase.

You drew a big, deep breath. Okay. That’s done. Back to normal services. What was it you were planning to do? Right. The lawn. You put on your shoes and went out back where the lawnmower was instead of the garage. The garage door was stuck and wouldn’t open, and Eddie had been planning to get someone to fix it before winter came. One more thing on the list.

You had put the outdoor chores behind you this past month, focusing on getting Ellie settled and the estate handled. Now that the room was rented out and Joel had moved in, you could tackle the outdoors.

Okay, you can do this. How hard could it be? Sure, you’ve never mowed a lawn before, but you just push right? The house you shared with Max didn’t have a lawn. The previous owner had paved over the entire backyard to avoid just such labour, and you were glad for it. But now, you have this bungalow with grass wrapped around three sides of the house, so you guessed mowing the lawn would have to be a regular thing now. The lawn had been neglected for a month, so you needed to get started at some point.

You inserted the key, pressed the start button on the mower, and you were amazed that it immediately roared to life. See? Easy. You had no idea why people complain about mowing the freaking lawn. You chose to have one, you had to mow it. Part of the deal. Your neighbours used to pay people to do this or wait for their husbands to come home. Pfft… this was easy. You had no idea what the big deal was. You took a deep breath and began pushing. After 30 minutes or so, you had pushed the darned thing around the entire backyard when the thing made the most pathetic sound and sputtered before dying on you. You peeked at the thingy on the mower, seeing the bag the cut grass was supposed to pool in and discovered it was empty. You looked around the lawn and realized that none of the grass was actually cut.

You had been pushing that heavy thing for half an hour and nothing was cut.

Oh come on!!!

Why’d you have to buy a house with so much lawn Ed? And what’s with the useless lawn mower he bought? It was supposed to be brand new, and it wasn’t cutting anything. He was so proud of that purchase too, boring you and Annie for hours about what it could do, excited to have a lawn after living in a small apartment since he got married. Sheesh. You pushed the start button again and again to no avail. You finally just dropped yourself on the grass and gave up entirely. Oh well. Some long grass never killed anyone. Right? You laid on your back, breathing heavily from your lame attempt at mowing the lawn. Who knew pushing a lawnmower was such a workout? Damn. The sun was not helping either, mocking your lame attempts, beating down your neck, and now your face as you laid there, your eyes closed in frustration.

A shadow covered your face all of a sudden. You squinted to see what it was, only to see Joel standing over you, a cold glass of water in his hand. Here, drink this, he told you.

You sat up, drinking the water thirstily as he sat down on the grass with you. He had changed into some ratty pair of jeans and an old looking t-shirt, asking you what you thought you were doing.

“Mowing the lawn.”

He looked around, nodded with an impressed expression on his face, telling you good job. You rolled your eyes and told him that the lawn mower was broken. Maybe you did sound a little defensive, but that was not the point.

“It’s brand new. Still shiny. What do you mean it’s broken?”

“It won’t cut anything! Useless piece of junk.”

He stood up and lifted the small hood on the mower. No gas. He looked around and saw the little metal cabinet Eddie had placed next to what was supposed to be the patio one day and looked inside. He came back with some gasoline and refilled the tank. He pushed the start button and the thing sputtered. No dice.

You gestured at it frustratedly with an ‘I told you so’ look on your face. He shook his head, told you the gasoline needed time to get to the engine. He pressed the button two more times and the mower roared to life. You rolled your eyes a bit and told him it won’t cut the grass. “There’s something wrong with it, I’m telling you! Trust me!”

He studied the machinery for a bit before taking the handle, pressing what looked like brake levers in front of it and pushed.

Et voila. The grass under it magically got shorter, the smell of cut grass filling your senses.

Oh.

You went over and tried to get the mower back from him. He cut the engine and blocked the handle of the mower from your hands with his body.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m gonna mow the lawn.”

“No you’re not. I’ll do it. Go back inside. It’s hot.” He pulled earphones out of his pocket and plugged them into his phone, selecting a playlist and starting the mower again, shooing you inside before going on to mow your lawn.

You wanted to argue, but your shoulders and back were killing you from pushing that heavy thing around on that waste of gasoline trip around the backyard earlier. So you let him mow your lawn. Well, his too, you guessed, now that he’s living here, a little annoyed at how easy he was making the whole thing look.  

You went in and got him some water in a jug and filled it with ice. It really was hot today, and that glass of water he gave you was a lifesaver. You placed the jug and a clean glass on the table outside and went back in to start lunch. You figured something nice, quick but simple and filling to welcome him to the house. Just as you finished seasoning the Pad Kra Pao, the engine to the mower cut off. You heard him push the mower back into the shade and pour himself a glass of water.

“Oh wow, it smells like Thai food in here,” he said, placing the almost empty jug on the kitchen counter, before closing the squeaky and wonky kitchen door, having to lift it up a bit to close it properly.

“Yeah, lunch is almost ready. Hope you’re hungry. I’m making…”

Oh shit.

You’ve just turned towards him. He’s all red, sweaty and glowing from sweat, the sun was beating the living crap out of him outside. You quickly took the jug and refilled it, asking him to drink more, apologizing profusely for making him mow the lawn on his first day living there. He hadn’t even spent the night, and now he’s at risk for heatstroke because you couldn’t figure out how to work the mower.

“Hey, don’t worry, I just burn easily. Relax. I drank plenty.”

“You don’t have to do the chores, you know, I’m pretty sure we didn’t discuss that.”

“Nonsense. Happy to do it. Besides, I can argue you don’t have to cook for me too, you know. Pretty sure ‘cooking for your tenant’ would not be in the contract either.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He told you he was going to shower and change and he would be right back to help you with the rest of lunch. He passed by Ellie, who was walking into the kitchen, giving her a high five, laughing a little as she complained about his sweaty hand.

You tried to protest when he helped set the table after his shower, he shushed you and went about opening and closing the cabinetry looking for the right ones for the things he was looking for.

He asked you how to make the dish, saying that he would love to try making it himself one day. You told him it was usually a spicy dish, but… you cocked your head towards Ellie who was diligently sifting Thai basil out of her portion before eating. He nodded in understanding.

He asked Ellie if she was excited for school next week. She shook her head, looking a bit sad. You told him later that she was just upset – she used to be excited, but after the accident, knowing that her parents won’t be sending her to school… His face fell, rubbing his face, saying that he couldn’t even imagine. He told you that he would just be in the next building from the preschool, so you could put him in as an emergency contact if the school couldn’t reach you for any reason.

Ellie fell asleep with her head on Joel’s lap that night, watching some stuff on TV as he read a book he had brought out. He refused your offer to take her from him as he carried her into her room, telling you he really, really didn’t mind. You told him that the doors to the rooms did not lock, but not to worry, you made sure Ellie would knock if she needed to go into his room, which she had expressly promised not to, unless there was an emergency. He could, of course, install a lock on his door if he wanted to. You would rather Ellie didn’t lock her door, in case you needed to come to her rescue at night, and you never lock your door as she used your bathroom. You bid him goodnight, going into your room and closing the door.

Joel sat in the living room for a while, reading his book for a couple more chapters before giving in to his tired body. As he laid his head on the left side of the princess bed, his feet on the right side, he couldn’t help feel light-hearted about today. For the first time since he left his marital home, he didn’t feel awkward or intrusive. He had thought it would be weird, living with a woman he hardly knew and her niece, and not just any woman – the woman who was the wife of the man his wife cheated on him with – but he hadn’t felt like that at all. The most awkward he felt was when he insisted to mow the lawn, and later, coming in to lunch being made for him, and that you fought him when he tried to do the dishes, and he argued that you had cooked, so he should clean. And even that, it was more that he wasn’t used to someone doing things around the house for him. He was the one doing everything back when he was still living with Jen.  

And Ellie. He’d met her three times. But he liked her. Felt very protective of her. It just felt natural, having her fall asleep with her head on his lap.

As he drifted to sleep, a thought entered his mind.

He could get used to this, princess bed, pink room, Hollywood dresser and all.

**********

You woke up early the next day, getting ready to go to the bakery, your first day fully back since that day you received the call. You packed some of Ellie’s clothes and books and iPad, and lifted her still sleeping body off her bed, quietly locking the front door behind you and buckling her in the back of your car.

It was 5.30 am when you arrived at the bakery. You unlocked the back entrance, placed Ellie on the futon in your office and got to work. Your routine was simple. Get the dough that was left to proof overnight from the fridge and make the pastries and breads and buns your customer liked before opening the door at 7.30 sharp. You worked quietly, efficiently, your movements a routine since you opened the bakery five years ago. You remembered Max being so excited for you back then. He used to love your freshly baked pastries, getting to the bakery early with you to keep you company. Until he decided you were just trying to make him fat and came home so late he didn’t have the energy to come keep you company anymore.

Tess and Frank arrived about ten minutes after you did, each going to their own stations preparing for the day with you. Tess asked you how the first day living with Joel was, and you told her, surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all.

You were really shocked at how comfortable you were with him. By the time you shut your bedroom door you were a bit thrown at the thought that it was his first night there. He hadn’t even been there 24 hours, and yet, having him in the house just felt easy. The only time you felt awkward with him was when he insisted on helping around the house. The lawn, the setting of the table, the dishes, it just felt… odd. But you knew why. You were not used to it all. You were solely left to do those things on your own when you were living with Max. Having a man who helped without being asked, and not having to engage in a screaming match for asking was alien to you.

And what was more shocking? How easily he took to Ellie, and the little girl to him. When you think how much of a stranger Max was to her, it was crazy how quickly these two made friends. And his offer to be her emergency contact… you just trusted him. You didn’t know why.

You remembered thinking as you drifted to sleep – you could get used to having him around.

You arrived home at 6, Tess and Frank insisted on you leaving before closing. Ellie had been at the bakery since 5.30 that morning. She must be exhausted. It’s okay, they told you. They understood. Go.

When you drove up to your house you thought your eyes were deceiving you.

The garage door was open. It was freaking open.

You walked into the living room, shutting the door behind you once Ellie had come in, realizing that the door was no longer squeaking.

Oh… and something smelled amazing.

Joel was in the backyard, your kitchen door off its hinges, propped on an old table outside. He was measuring something on the door, looking up as you walked out.

“Hello, roomie!”

“What are you doing?”

“Just fixing the door. It was driving me crazy. It was stuck. Shouldn’t anymore, now,” he said, brushing the whatever it was called with his hand.

“I was gonna do that.”

Okay, you weren’t, but you felt bad he was doing this. This shouldn’t be his problem.

“Really? Oh, well, now you don’t have to. Can you hand me the Phillips-head?” he held out his hand to you, waiting for you to get the Phillip guy he asked for.

You looked at the ten or so items he had laid out on the small table, calculating the probability that the one you might pick might be this Phillip. Now… which one looked like a Phillip?

“You don’t know, do you?”

“I do, I’m just tired,” you said defensively, picking up something that looked like a Phillip.

“That’s a chisel. This,” he picked up a screwdriver with the + point, his voice straining as he stretched his body to get it, “Is a Phillips-head.”

“I meant to pick that one,” said, rather embarrassed that you got it so wrong.

“Sure you were.” He smiled and went back to doing his thing. Once he installed the door back to it’s rightful place, he called you and Ellie for dinner, demonstrating the door was no longer stuck or squeaky.

The man made tacos for dinner. Okay, he bought the shells, but the filling he made was pretty delicious. He and Ellie had a blast having a contest on who could make the most mess as they ate. And Ellie won by a mile. You took out the cheesecake slices you brought home for dessert, him immediately warning you not to bring home dessert every day.

“I’m gonna have to start working out again if you keep this up. And I HATE working out,” he complained, shovelling the cheesy goodness into his mouth.

As you stood in the garage closing and opening the door with ease after Ellie went to bed, he came out to join you.

“Joel, thank you so much for everything you did today, you really didn’t have to. I was gonna call someone.”

“Well, I had nothing to do until Thursday, and they were easy fixes. Don’t worry about it. And now, you don’t have to pay someone to do it for you.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anything.”

“You’re not, I’m happy to do it. Relax. What else am I gonna do? I might strip the pink wallpaper off my walls, if you don’t mind me taking you up on your offer. While I have the time to do it.”

“Of course, it’s your room. Do what you want,” you told him, thanking him again for dinner and everything he had done around the house that day. “Good night Joel.”

“Night Lily.”

**********

It’s Ellie’s first day of school. You told Tess and Frank you were going to be late, and they waved you off, telling you they understood. She was looking a bit down, touching her parents clothes in her closet before walking out to have her breakfast.

Joel came out, dressed in a dress shirt, a tie and a pair of slacks, looking decidedly different than the jeans and t-shirt you were used to see him in.

Good different. His hair combed neatly, his beard and moustache trimmed, and was he wearing cologne?

Damn, Miller. This man cleaned up well.

You told him that, even Ellie was telling him he looked good. He in turn told her she looked great too, giving her a side hug before getting himself a mug for his morning coffee. He took a piece of toast and leaned on the kitchen counter next to you as you finished making Ellie’s lunch and snacks for the day.

“You look great too, by the way,” he said. You had put on a nicer dress that day, and a bit of make-up – you wanted to make a great first impression for Ellie’s teachers. You scoffed a laugh – anything was better than the flour you normally wore as involuntary powder, huh?

He didn’t answer, a smile gracing his lips as he took another sip of coffee, his eyes still on you.

He was a bit stunned when you handed him his lunch for the day. He took it, thanking you, touched at the gesture. God, when was the last time someone other than his mother made him lunch to take to school?

The three of you walked to school, going in through the back gate that was literally a few yards away from your driveway. Ellie holding to your hand tight, Joel holding her backpack and lunch in his hands.

“Good morning Mr Miller,” his students chorused every once in a while. He nodded with a smile, showing Ellie the building where his classes were. You couldn’t help but notice the female students openly swooning at him as he walked by. As you got to the car park, some female teachers who were talking to each other stopped as soon as they saw him. You noticed a couple of them checking his ring finger before coming over, eyeing you and Ellie with… something… asking him who you were.

He introduced you as Lily and Ellie. That was it. No explanation of who you were, before placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you away, telling them you were late for Ellie’s first day of school. You could see them gather and whisper as soon as his back was turned. Wow.

When you got to the preschool, Bill and Andy were there, Andy excitedly cooing at Ellie over how great she looked, checking out her bag and lunch box, while Bill quietly shook Joel’s hand, gave you a quick kiss and stood there silently, watching Ellie answer Andy’s questions. She gave him an excited fist bump as Andy got up to hug you and Joel, asking her if she’s got everything for school, asking her again if she’s sure, and asking her one more time, before producing a keychain with her name engraved on it, clipping it on her bag. She hugged him, and you could see Bill falter, holding the little girl tight.

Her teacher, Mrs Adler came to your group. She squatted to Ellie’s level, introducing herself to her. Which ones were your mom and dad, she asked. And you felt your head go cold. You had forgotten to tell the school about Eddie and Annie’s passing. Shit. Not good. So not good.

To your surprise, Ellie took your hand and Joel’s.

Mrs Adler stood up and shook your hand, before turning to Joel, shocked that he was the one Ellie referred to as her dad. She knew him, of course. What female teacher in that entire academic complex didn’t. She managed to keep her face straight, telling you and Joel that she would be in safe hands, and that you were required to go online and fill out a form to update her emergency contacts and the likes. You were still too stunned at Ellie’s actions, so Andy immediately did it for you, putting you as the first emergency contact, Joel as the second. She then listed all the four of them as the people who were allowed to sign Ellie out other than you and Joel.

Mrs Adler took Ellie to the classroom and showed her the table and cubby she was assigned to. You asked to speak to her outside and told her the whole story with her parents. Mrs Adler looked a bit teary, but looked at the four of you and told you Ellie was a lucky girl that so many people stepped up for her. She’ll be fine. You can come pick her up at three.

Ellie came running out and hugging all four of you, holding you and Joel tight as she did. You promised her you would see her at three, and that Joel was right in the next building, okay? She nodded, trying hard not to cry. The four of you left with heavy hearts, Andy rubbing your back to calm you down, as you were so close to tears.

Joel came up to you and rubbed your arm up and down, you okay? He looked sad himself, for whatever reason. You nodded, and he pulled you in for a one-armed hug, telling you she’ll be okay. We’ll see her later today. You let him hold you for a while, before pulling back, thanking him for being there for Ellie. Of course, he replied, easily. Andy told you she would drive you back to get your car, Bill hanging back to talk to Joel for a bit, before patting him on the shoulder.

Your day at the bakery was filled with thoughts of Ellie. Was she doing okay? Did she make new friends? Did she eat?

And every once in a while, the feeling you felt as Joel hugged you came flashing back.

Stop it. Ellie. Focus on Ellie.

Joel was thinking of Ellie too, refraining himself from going over every other hour to peek at her classroom. The teachers wouldn’t like that. He just hoped she was doing alright.

She implied he was her dad. And you her mom.

As Joel opened the lunch you packed for him during his break, he thought of the way your hair smelled as he hugged you that morning. Stop it. Ellie. Focus. Ellie.

As he bit into the sandwich you made for him, he couldn’t help but take a deep, satisfied breath.

Yeah… he could get used to this.

---

October Part 1

[gabrielleyueerrrrr]

Rain Lilies - AVA/M

Word count: 2,165

CW/TW: - Canonical character death, if you survived AVA 11, you can survive this :)

Characters: Victim, Mitsi, Agent

Relationships: VictimxMitsi, Victim&Mitsi, Victim&Agent

Addtional tags: It gets better before it gets worse, Victim has speech impediment, Mitsi my beloved is trying her best

Summary: Mitsi and Victim grow some flowers.

»»———— ❋ ————-««

A brown paper bag rested on the table, slumped slightly under the weight of its contents. Inside it were small, teardrop-shaped bulbs, their surfaces covered in delicate, dry papery layers.

Victim frowned at it. “M-Mitsi... d-did you double-check our g-grocery list? We d-don’t need this m-many... sh-shallots, do we?”

The familiar stammer clawed its way out of him, and frustration curled tight in his chest. He should have learnt to speak properly by now-

“Hmm?” Mitsi’s head appeared from the kitchen, her ponytail swaying as she turned toward him. She followed his gaze to the bag, then broke into a delighted giggle. “Oh, Vicky, no! These aren’t shallots—they’re flower bulbs!”

Victim blinked. “Fl-flower bulbs?”

“Yep! The auntie at the flower shop gave them to me for free, as a thank-you gift for fixing her radio.” Mitsi hopped over and reached for Victim’s hands, her slender fingers wrapping warmly around his. Victim stiffened, but she didn’t seem to notice—or maybe she didn’t care. “I thought we could plant them in the front yard! Imagine—a little garden of our own. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” Her eyes sparkled, bright with excitement. 

How she can find joy in every little thing around them, Victim could never understand.

Victim tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “W-why would you want to do th-that?” he asked, his voice slow, hesitant. “It’s not like they c-can b-be eaten... or, or turned into s-something useful.” He flicked his gaze to Mitsi’s face, bracing for the impatience or annoyance he’d come to expect from others. But all he found was her usual gentle smile, as if he hadn’t stumbled over every word.

"B-but if you like, like flowers, we c-can always buy some..." His voice grew smaller and smaller.

“Well, sure,” Mitsi said breezily, giving his hands a small squeeze. “But what’s the fun in that?”

“I d-don’t see the ap-appeal in handling dirt all, all day.” Victim muttered.

Her smile widened, and she leaned closer, a playful glint in her eyes. “But have you ever tried gardening before?”

“…N-no?”

“Then how do you know it’s not fun?”

“I…” Victim opened his mouth to argue, but no words came. With a reluctant sigh, he nodded, defeated.

Mitsi laughed, the sound light and clear, like the tinkling of silver bells. “Come on, Vicky! I know you’ll love it.”

»»———— ❋ ————-««

“Y-you know I can just…use my tools to make a h-hedge, right? Much q-quicker and sturdier.” Victim crossed his arms, glancing down at his partner, tone unimpressed. Mitsi sat cross-legged on the ground, humming a cheerful tune as she stitched together pieces of branches with straws.

“Yes, but I want to do it this way,” she replied, testing the durability of her handiwork before driving it firmly into the dirt.

Victim sighed and leaned his full weight against the makeshift hedge, pressing it deeper into the soil. “I d-don't know why you insist on doing e-everything by h-hand,” he said, his voice breathless from the effort.

“Well…” Mitsi paused to wipe the sweat beading on her forehead. “It feels like cheating to use quick and easy solutions for something like building a garden. Kind of takes away the magic, don’t you think?”

Victim shook his head, watching as she moved on to another piece. “I d-don’t think I get it, but…” He crouched beside her, meeting her expectant gaze. “Show me how you w-want it d-done.”

Remove all the grass and weeds.

Loosen the soil to a depth of 2-3 inches.

Plant the bulbs 2-3 inches deep, with the pointed end facing up.

Water the bulbs thoroughly.

Finally, add a layer of mulch on top of the soil.

By the time they finished, the sun was setting, casting their small garden in a honey-colored glow.

The two of them collapsed onto the ground, shoulder to shoulder, panting as they admired their work in silence. The soft chirping of crickets filled the air, and the tiny patch of earth in front of them looks tidy and full of promise.

"Oh, Vicky, hold still-" 

“Hm?” Victim turned, only to feel Mitsi’s fingers brush against his cheek, wiping away a smudge of dirt.

“There.” She smiled, her eyes reflecting the warm hues of the alpenglow. For a moment, she looked at him like she’d uncovered some hidden treasure.

And although every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion, and his back was sticky with sweat, Victim thought that maybe, gardening wasn’t so bad after all.

»»———— ❋ ————-««

For the next few weeks, their garden thrived. Baby-green shoots emerged first, sharp as needles yet tender as silk. The shoots grew, unfurling slender, elegant leaves that swayed gently in the breeze. Two months after planting, small, tightly bundled buds began to form at the tips of the stems. Despite himself, Victim often found his gaze drawn to the window, secretly hoping to catch their first bloom unfurling under the sunlight.

Spring faded, its warm, floral breezes giving way to the heavy stillness of summer. The days grew hotter, quieter, as though the world itself were holding its breath.

Then, without warning, the storm struck.

The sky turned a bruised gray, and rain fell in relentless, bullet-like drops that battered the earth. Their little house shuddered under the force of the wind and rain, its wooden walls groaning like an old ship at sea.

Victim paced fretfully back and forth in front of the window, his gaze fixed on the blurred outlines of the garden. The rain fell too hard, too fast, obscuring everything. The thought of their flowers—exposed, their delicate leaves tearing and stems snapping under the storm—made his chest tighten.

“Vicky, what’s wrong?” Mitsi’s hand rested lightly on his shoulder, but this time, her touch didn’t calm him. He shrugged her hand off, his stammer spilling out faster than usual.

“I-it’s all my f-fault,” he cradled his head, shaking it in frustration. “T-the flowers… I-I should’ve… s-set up a canopy, or… or s-something. I-I should’ve kn-known this w-would happen.”

“Oh, Vicky…” Mitsi cupped his face, her hands firm yet gentle as she lifted his head to meet her steady gaze. “It’s not your fault. No one could’ve seen this storm coming.”

“T-the flowers, they’re p-probably all r-ruined…”

“They’re not,” Mitsi said softly, her tone sure and unwavering. “Storms happen all the time in the wild. If wildflowers can survive, ours can too.”

“H-how can you…be so sure?” he asked, his gaze flickering between her eyes and the rain outside.

“I'm not,” she admitted with a small smile. “But I choose to believe.” 

Victim’s eyes widened. Mitsi wrapped her arms around him, she smelled of sunlight, dried wool, and machine oil. “Our flowers are strong, Vicky. Stronger than you think.”

He stayed still for a moment, then nodded slowly, leaning into the embrace. “…W-what should we do now?” he asked. 

“We eat lunch,” Mitsi said, her voice steady and comforting like a weighted blanket, “And we wait for the storm to pass.”

»»———— ❋ ————-««

The rain ended as abruptly as it had begun. The sky slowly lifted, a thin ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds to bathe the ground. Everything felt freshly washed, the world damp and drowsy. A great silence settled in, broken only by the soft drip of water falling from the roof tiles.

The front door swung open with a gust of wind, and Mitsi darted outside toward the garden, Victim following closely behind, clutching the back of her jacket. Their footsteps splashed through puddles, sending droplets scattering. A frog, startled by the sudden movement, leaped from the middle of the road and vanished into the tall grass.

But then Mitsi stopped, making Victim nearly bumping into her. Wordlessly, he slipped her jacket over her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes, wide and bright, was fixed to the garden in front of her.

“Look!” She said in a hushed voice.

Victim took a small step to the side, his breath catching as he mentally braced himself for the worst.

“Ah…” was all he could manage.

Countless newly bloomed flowers peeked out from a sea of green leaves. Dew drops rested lazily on their delicate petals, reflecting the sunlight with a mischievous glint. When the wind passed through, they twinkled like stars—white, pink, and yellow. “Hello, hello!” they seemed to sing, "Hello, hello!"

“Rain lilies,” Mitsi whispered softly beside him, “They bloom after a storm.”

Victim’s hand found hers, his grip tight, “T-They made it,” he said, his voice trembling, a shaky laugh escaping him. “I can’t believe they made it.”

“No, Vicky!” Mitsi turned to hold both of Victim’s hands, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She looked at him then—more beautiful than he’d ever seen her—her face radiant with untamed joy. “We made it!”

With that, they spun in circles together, the cool, muddy earth squelching beneath their feet. Mitsi laughed a pure, contagious laugh, one that Victim would try to remember all his life. Their shoes were soaked, their trousers splattered with mud, but they couldn’t care any less.

And if a rainbow appeared above them, arching over their garden as though the heavens themselves were smiling down on them, well… that was just a bonus.

»»———— ❋ ————-««

“Sir, you need to rest.”

Victim didn’t respond. His fingers, stiff and numb, pressed the replay button again. The screen flickered to life, Agent’s memory recording lit up the dark room.

Fire, debris, the deafening screams. Mitsi running toward a citizen trapped under a collapsed wall. Mitsi struggling beneath the rubble while bombs of fire rain down upon her. Mitsi, swallowed by the explosion.

Three days after the destruction of Newgrounds, Victim sequestered himself in the memory machine room. He replayed the scene over and over, watching it until his eyes burned like acid, until his head felt ready to explode, until the diabolic face of the black hollowhead, Mitsi’s killer, was seared into his mind, his nightmares, his soul.

Agent crouched in front of him. Behind his sunglasses, his best friend’s eyes were bloodshot, full of pleading.

“Vic, please.” Agent’s voice shook, and Victim had a sudden image of him teetering on the edge of an abyss.

Slowly, Victim stood, his joints stiff and protesting. He trudged toward the office he and Mitsi had shared, feeling the weight of Agent’s gaze on his back, a ghost haunting his every step.

Inside, the office felt strangely large and hollow. Mitsi’s big armchair faced away from him, as though it would turn at any moment to reveal her—smiling, teasing him across the desk. “And where have you been, my second-in-command?”

A horrible, broken sound tore from his throat, he swallowed it, covering his face as he walked quickly to his own desk.

But it wasn’t empty like he expected.

A gift box, wrapped meticulously in grey ribbon, sat in the middle of the desk. His heart skipped a beat. He recognized the handwriting on the tag.

For Vicky.

His hand shook as he opened the gift box, careful not to damage it in the slightest. Inside lay a flower crown, its glossy green leaves shimmering faintly. Inlaid among them, were—

When the wind passed through, they twinkled like stars — white, pink, and yellow.

—rain lilies.

Tears blurred his vision as he held the crown against his chest, cradling it as if it were the last piece of his girl left behind. 

Beneath it, he found one last thing: a folded card. 

He opened it slowly, reverently, like it was made of butterfly wings.

To my dearest Vicky,

Happy 4th anniversary of Rocket Inc.! I’ve always wanted to give you something special for this day, and I know you’d probably prefer something practical, but please don’t be mad at me for this flower crown instead! It took me forever to make—the flowers keep falling out—but I hope you’ll still like it. :)

Do you remember our garden? The rain lilies we planted? They’re my favorite flowers, you know. And I think they’re perfect for you, because they always bloom after a storm. I’ve always thought of them as a symbol of new beginnings. No matter how wild the storm, the rain lilies still bloom—stronger, more beautiful than before.

When we first met, you were hurting, Vicky. You were lost in your own storms, troubled by things I couldn’t even begin to understand. But I saw you change, little by little, bit by bit, you grew stronger. More confident. Happier. It’s hard for you to see, but I saw it. Every day.

You’re like our rain lilies, Vicky. You’ve faced your storms, even when you thought you wouldn’t survive them. But here you are, blooming. And I’m so proud of you. So, so proud.

I hope this flower crown helps remind you of that strength, of everything you’ve already overcome. And whenever you feel like the storm is too much, just look at the rain lilies. They’ll be here, just like me.

I’ll always be with you.

Yours, M ♡

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Christmas kindness letter

To Remedyturtles AKA Remrose,

I’ve read a good chunk of your fics. Probably just about all of them. And what constantly amazes me is your way to just… draw me INTO the story and leave me literally unable to put it down. What’s especially funny about that is how you write a lot of Leo-centric things, and my favourite turtle is Donnie. Leo is my second favourite, though. But I didn’t think I’d ever be so captivated by the stories you tell about him, especially with how heavy with the angst they get.

The first longer fic of yours I read was Stare Directly at the Sun. Which I read in pretty much one sitting. I don’t even know why I clicked on it— considering, as I said, Donnie is my favorite, and I actually do not care for human AUs. Somehow, this one drew me in and locked me there. I loved it. 

And Firefight? That took over my LIFE. I powered through it, literally spent HOURS just sitting on the couch reading it (and even reading it outside on a nice day). I joined while it was incomplete, and read what was there in only a few days. Then, I read every subsequent chapter as soon as I could. It was a legit highlight of my day, something I looked forward to, and I was hooked so bad like you wouldn’t believe. It was sad to see it end, but what a beautiful journey it WAS. I love love loved it, especially how long you took to focus on the healing of Leo and Donnie… they went through hell, indeed, and managed to come out the other side stronger. Even Leo, who scared the SHIT out of me for so long. But I’ll cut myself off, here. I could go on FOREVER about Firefight, you have no idea. I’ve been meaning to read this one again, actually. I need to.

The last fic I want to highlight, of yours, is actually one I don’t see talked about much: Take One For the Team. That one. That one. It was haunting. It was sickening./pos It was gripping. I could. not. put. it down. It was horrific to watch Leo go through that, to watch him deteriorate, and even though you didn’t detail his… extracurricular, I felt violated along with him, simply because of how he reacted to it, and how you wrote him processing (or failing to process) it. Slash pos. Seriously. This one. THIS ONE. I guess it isn’t talked about much because it’s a very sensitive topic, but if people can read it, they should. Holy shit, incredible.

I’m not sure what makes your writing so captivating. Maybe it’s how you write the characters. Maybe it’s your style. Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s something else. I don’t know. But it’s easy to get lost in, and so easy to get attached, to CARE, and to feel along with these characters. Reading your stories is like sitting in the passenger’s seat of a friend’s car on a long road trip. You experience everything together, and, to me, it feels pretty damn special. 

Anyways. I’ve prattled on enough. If you’ve got more gems planned, I’ll be happy to read them (in the meanwhile, I have on my list to read Little Kid With a Big Death Wish because I HAVE NOT READ THAT YET I have TOO MANY FICS TO READ/lh it’s on the list tho).

Have a very Merry Christmas!! :D

@remedyturtles

Christmas Kindness Event Post

[mikan-sei]

Beyond the Surface of Suo and Sakura’s relationship

**MANGA SPOILER WARNING**

This is my first post on this website, apologies if theres anything incoherent here. This post is also very simplified and lacks some information as I wanted to keep it as concise as possible. If you would like a full-blown analysis about their relationship, do let me know. I may consider making a complete writeup.

Contrary to popular belief about their “lack of interactions”, Suo and Sakura share many important and pivotal moments together scattered across the story. They may not have that big impactful moment compared to other dynamics in WBK (examples being Chika calling Endo by his full name, or Nirei yelling at Sakura in Noroshi, but we’ll get to that later), however they are important to their relationship and for their individual characters. There’s too many to list here, so I will keep it short.

From the start of Wind Breaker, Suo has always teased Sakura; even lying to him when they first meet:

We all know that Suo is a very unserious guy, and this aspect of his character is highlighted the most when it comes to his interactions with Sakura. He constantly pokes fun at him; blatantly lying to him with the sole purpose to mess with him and just being a general tease.

These aren’t even all the instances when Suo does this! I got lazy while compiling images (yes, theres *that* many moments where Suo teases Sakura), but I hope this paints a good perspective.

This makes Sakura thinks of him as “untrustworthy”, in a more lighthearted sense.

Infact, out of anyone else in the cast, Sakura is the only person who actively questions Suo’s character. (I’m not counting Tsugeura because their confrontation was a one time thing)

But here’s the thing: Even if Suo takes advantage of the fact that Sakura is gullible enough to believe anything just so he can mess with him, Sakura still relies on Suo.

He relies on him to come up with a strategic plan for their war, partners with Sugishita despite his initial reluctance, and even follows his advice on how to fight with others people (which works in his favor immensely during the beginning of Noroshi and while he works with Sugishita)

Theres also another moment I’d like to showcase (which is very underrated imo):

Here, we see Sakura taking the support of Suo’s shoulder in order to kick Endo in the face. We also see Suo defending Sakura a few moments ago as well.

Heres’s the thing: Sakura is an arial fighter. He can easily jump to certain heights by himself, much less be able to kick his opponents mid-air. He doesn’t require any support to lift his body upwards.

So why would Sakura do this?

It’s simple: Sakura trusts Suo, whether it be direct or subconsciously. And as his vice captain, Suo also trusts Sakura. Why would he appoint him as class captain if otherwise?

Their mutual trust plays a massive part in their relationship. There are many instances showing this aspect, but for now I will just analyze this iconic scene:

Both Sakura and Suo immediately jump into action in order to protect their friend, Nirei, from any immediate threat (Endo). They exchange no words, only a knowing glance to each other.

I believe that this page shows the essence of their relationship: Despite their petty banter and occasional disagreements, despite how less ‘open’ their relationship is, they are more often on the same wavelength than not.

They care for and trust each other immensely. However, many of their nuances are in hidden between the lines of their relationship due to the guarded nature of characters.

And it is with all these aspects combined that makes the Suo and Sakura duo appealing to many people.

TLDR: Suo and Sakura trust and care for each other a lot, despite their personal shortcomings and Suo incessantly messing with Sakura.

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk. There was so much more I wanted to write about here (such as their flawed perspectives on each other, suo’s perspective on sakura, and how they uplift each other), but unfortunately Tumblr literally refused to upload most of my images and nuked half of this post bc it decided not to save the draft; hence the short analysis. If you have any additional thoughts, feel free to let me know :)

[trinityobsessesovatings]

do you have a ranking of your favourite arcane characters?

this might come as a little bit of a shocker…

MOST

Caitlyn

Vi

Jayce

Mel

Sevika

Ekko

Jinx

Ambessa

Viktor

LEAST

caitlyn is my absolute FAVORITE character!! idk what it is about her but i want to have her children! i would definitely be her little housewife fr! she has me acting in ways… IM CONCERNED ABOUT. i would definitely be in her corner like “babe stop this isn’t you! look at me baby this isn’t you! don’t let jinx get you there.” …yeah it’s bad.

vi is a VERY CLOSE second. i absolutely ADORED her character. she lowkey reminds me of myself fr, willing to do anything and everything for the ones she loves. i have an older brother who has autism and would DIE for that mf fr! i really loved how even though she was frustrated with jinx… she never really gave up on her… in my eyes at least.

…now… jayce i’m not gonna lie.. he’s position on this list is a SHOCK to me. i was a jayce HATER all throughout the show! mainly because i was jealous with the way he got the baddest bitch in the show mel.. YES IM A HATER! but chileee… when he popped back up with beard… SUMN WAS PURRING 🤪 i’m a slut for mean with beards.

mel, mel, mel… when she first popped up on my screen I was deadass stunned with how stunning that woman was! then when she first started getting with jayce i was like: 🤨😕. i couldn’t believe it. i was also definitely one of those people who shipped her with sevika even though those two NEVER interacted. but yeah her aura was so strong she had me hating jayce. WHEN SHE UNLOCKED HER POWERS OH MY GOD I WAS SCREAMING AND JUMPING FOR JOY! baddest bitch. 😌

sevika was definitely someone else who caught my attention when the show first started! i thought she was THE COLDEST mf they introduced! even when she betrayed vander i was upset a bit, but also at the same time… i supported it??? because she just wants the best for her people! i was literally so pissed she kept getting that vegeta treatment tho… LIKE COME ON!

NOW the only reason ekko is so low on this list is because… most of the people above him they got EXTRA POINTS because i’m attracted to them! ekko is honestly so adorable and just the goat fr! that’s my son fr! little man when he was so small 🥹 MY SON!!! i was having heart palpitations when him, hiemerdinger, and jayce where glitching out during the wild runes scene! MY BOY JUST WANTED TO KNOW WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIS TREE!

the reason jinx is where she is on this list is literally the same as ekko’s! jinx and ekko idk how they are so that’s an immediate “you’re my child and if anything happens to you, i’ll kill everyone.” jinx was also one of them characters that deadass HAD ME DYING! the scene with enforcer not believing she’s jinx, when silco was calling for her but she was too busy jamming, when she jumped sevika and tied her up, asking her sister if her caitlyn fucked before she killed them, almost crashing out when viktor called her powder… THE LIST GOES ON! she an icon, a legend, and she is the moment! 😌

ambessa she had me in the first half, like when she was first introduced! i’m pretty sure if she didn’t end up being an opp… she would definitely be higher on the list! the only thing ambessa got going for her rn is she’s hot! I JUST HATE WAR STARTING/LOVING ASS BITCHES!! like for why! DO THAT SHIT ON YOUR OWN TERF DON’T BRING THAT MESS OVA HEA! also she slapped mel so that DEF docked some fucking points!

now this might be an unpopular opinion… i might get hate for it… i thought viktor was the most boring character on the show highkey fr! IM SORRY IM SORRY! like he had his moments that man is a sassy king… but other than that I didn’t really rock with viktor as a character or as potential boo thing. when it comes to science people… it’s hit or miss for me fr. also… that mf ran a cult 🙅🏾‍♀️ NO THANKS

HONORABLE FAVS

vander

isha

babette

shoola

lest

claggor

cassandra

HONORABLE LEAST FAVS

SILCO

that rat looking mf

MADDIE

mylo

that guy who was in sevika’s gang who was also licking something or someone