#Writes take notes pls

[sullengirlthoughts]

Andreil stargazing on the rooftop. Neil stares at the stars, andrew stares at neil

[proxycrit]

Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!

[fistfuloflightning]

When Ming Fan finally fought his way through the underbrush to where the Rift had appeared, it was already too late. Shizun and Luo Binghe stood at the edge of the yawning chasm, swords unsheathed and pointed at each other. He hadn’t thought much of it when Shen Qingqiu had flown past him so soon after the earthquake that had torn open the Rift, but he could now see there was something very wrong. Shen Qingqiu’s back was turned to Ming Fan and his face hidden, but he could see plainly the fear and confusion on Luo Binghe’s face. Along with the glowing, damning mark on his forehead. Something demonic.

Ming Fan gripped the foliage, forcing himself not to run out. Not yet. He’d end up dead or wishing he was. He had mocked Luo Binghe early in the Conference, yes, but he knew the younger boy had done nothing to merit this kind of punishment—!

In a matter of seconds, Xiu Ya had stabbed forward, Zheng Yang had shattered, and Luo Binghe had staggered back into the Rift.

Everything seemed to still.

Ming Fan sucked in an breath and darted out of the foliage—but it was too late. Luo Binghe’s arm vanished over the edge just as Ming Fan ran past their shizun. He lunged forward the last few feet, fingers clawing at Luo Binghe’s forearm just in time. Caught, held. The sudden weight had him crashing again against the ground and the wind was knocked out of him. The taste of charred earth mixed with that of fresh blood where he’d nearly bitten his tongue in half.

But that was inconsequential. Not when he could feel the weight at the end of his arm that told him he didn’t fail. Even when the only person he needed to acknowledge that fact was someone he couldn’t stand. No one deserves to die like this, Ming Fan thought viciously. Not even him.

Dangling below him, Luo Binghe’s eyes were wide with terror and confusion, at odds with the damning, demonic seal glowing on his forehead. But there was something like gratitude there as well, out of place and so painfully frail.

For a fragile second, it felt like they were breathing the same

“Shixiong—”

With a cry, he was wrenched from Ming Fan’s grip and into the Abyss below. Ming Fan’s cry was strangled in his throat.

He didn’t know how long he remained there, clenching the burned grass with white-knuckled fingers and straining his eyes to see through the acrid smoke that rose from the chasm for even the barest glimpse of Luo Binghe. But time moved on and the Rift sealed shut and when Ming Fan blinked and once more became aware of his surroundings, he realized he was not alone.

Shen Qingqiu loomed over him like a stone Buddha, face cold as jade. His spiritual sword was once more sheathed, his robes neat and not one hair out of place. As though he hadn’t had a hand in what had happened here.

“You… you killed him,” Ming Fan breathed, still unable to fully process what had just taken place. But that’s what it was, a death sentence fed to the hungry maw of the Endless Abyss.

Shen Qingqiu. “He was a stain upon our sect.”

Ming Fan could feel the rage slowly rise. “He was a disciple of Qing Jing Peak. He was your disciple.” Acknowledging it was like vinegar on his tongue but a boy was dead because of him. He stared at Shen Qingqiu as if seeing him for the first time. Stripped of his elegance and his masks…

“He was a demon.” Shen Qingqiu sneered down at him. “There is no need to explain to you why he needed to be eradicated.”

Ming Fan tore burning eyes away from that frigid, impassive mask. He couldn’t bear looking at the man he had so long idolized. Instead he stared at the ground, in fear he would do or say something he could not undo. And beside his knee he saw slivers of metal.

The shards of Zheng Yang, tangled in the burned grass. Ming Fan’s vision blurred and his breath grew sharp and ragged, anger slamming into him full force. He wrapped his fingers around the pieces, the razor pain of their edges grounding him as the rest of his world unraveled like poorly woven cloth. His shizun had failed him.

And he had failed his shidi.

[birrdies]

dead; by birrdie 14.9k, 1 chapter (complete*)

[apricustar]

crazy how a few episodes after seeing eddie completely stripped bare, crying, bedroom destroyed—after helping to pull him out of his spiral, rolling up his sleeves, physically patching up and painting eddie’s room, buck, in conversation with maddie, questions whether real love is about everything always feeling perfect, or if it’s really about seeing the worst of each other, and still choosing to keep trying.

and get this, and GET THIS, a few scenes after saying this, buck breaks up with taylor.

which could mean nothing.

[ever-siince-new-york]

julien baker calling reader a good girl and being in charge🙏🏻

Julien Baker x f!reader

warnings/tags: fingering, oral (reader!recieving), pet names such as... princess, baby, honey, and good girl ofc 🙄 a lil bit of toxicity and lets say stylistic errors in grammar and perspective 🙏(aka grammarly stop being mad at me i'm not gonna buy premium)

author's note: girl you know i had to. 1.2k words, should take around 15 mins to read. thank y'all so much for the requests! i promise i've seen them all, however i have also gotten back into minecraft after they added the cherry wood so... I'm working on it okay? okay. hope u like it okay bye :0

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this, not again. But, here you were, scrolling to unblock her contact. You thought there was something about this city: the air or something cliche like that. Something that had you calling Julien again and again. Surely, if it were up to you and your own free will, you wouldn’t be doing this.

The ringing from the other line drowns out any rational thought from this point on.

Ring. You shouldn’t be doing this. Ring. You’ll just get hurt again. Ring. “Hello?”

There was a point where you really believed you would never hear her voice again, never even want to. “Hey,” you said.

“So uh… wh-?” you cut her off.

“Come over,” the last of a six-word phone call.

-

You wanted to slam the door shut as quickly as you’d ripped it open. She was still wearing that stupid necklace. The one you had bought for her at a gas station in… Arizona maybe? Somewhere dry, hot. As you weren’t expecting this cruel reminder of the past, you were thrown off-guard. Clenching your jaw, you didn’t know what to say. Luckily, you didn’t have to.

The way she kissed you that night had you drunk on her from the moment she stepped into your apartment. All your attempts at memorizing her touch, her taste, her smell were in vain. Julien always had a way of making life feel straight out of a movie. It was all teeth and tongue, your mouth surrendering to hers as soon as she tongued at your bottom lip. No memory could ever do her justice.

Her hands danced over the expanse of your body, hands moving from your ribs to your hips, your neck to your breast. Fingertips shaping your body into submission like wet clay.

You broke the kiss, leading her to your bedroom. 

“That’s not very polite, Princess. Not even going to offer me a drink?” Her feigned offense only turned you on more, ever the tease. As if she could read your mind, a smirk tugged at her beautiful lips, “I know, baby. Always so needy for me,” she spoke in a low drawl. 

Any sense of control you had was now gone. You were her’s. Again. So you’d nodded with a soft pout.

“We can fix that, honey. But you need to use your words,” Julien said. This woman would be the death of you. “Please, Jay. I need it,” you whispered.

“Need what, baby?”

“Need you,” you pouted. That seemed to satisfy her as she held out her hand for you to grab with a smile. The two of you stumbled down the hallway, towards the open door to your bedroom. 

She pushed you up against the foot of your bed, reaching down to slip her hands under the hem of your t-shirt, abandoning the article to the floorboards. Her gentle kisses up and down your neck did nothing but add fuel to the burning desire between your hips. Hands danced around your waist while yours were planted into her hair. 

You tugged at her roots in the hope of her diverting her attention to where you had craved her since she flew into town. She pulled her head away to look up at you with expectant eyes.

“What do you say, Princess?”

“Please.” That made her smirk. “Good girl,” she had said. Pressing a kiss to your soft lips, she trailed her way down to the fly of your jeans. Kneeling, she popped open the button and unzipped the fly in mere seconds, clearly as eager as you. 

She slid her hand into your cotton panties, collecting your slick before beginning to circle your clit. Very quickly you migrated from standing to sitting as she continued her ministrations. As you arched your back into her touch, she slipped two of her fingers into your entrance. 

She pressed a sloppy kiss on your inner thigh before putting her mouth on your heat. She curled her fingers and started gently suckling on your clit. Her consistent motions had your mouth open and your tongue gently curled up as you laced your fingers back into her hair. The tug you had delivered to her hair every time she changed what she was doing had her moaning into your pussy, sending reverberations through your wet cunt.

Anyone outside your open window would be able to hear what was going on inside those four walls. The sounds of her fingers plunging in and out of you coupled with the wet kisses she was littering among your core were downright sinful. 

Feeling your walls fluttering around her fingers, she knew you were close. You grunted in offense and frustration when she pulled her mouth away from you, but she quickly mended any hurt feelings with her words.

“I missed having you like this, baby. All needy just for me.” It seemed like her pace began quickening after every phrase, her hunger increasing parallel to yours. The ferocity of her thrusting fingers and her thumb now rubbing at your clit had you stumbling closer to your climax.

“You can do it, Princess. Go ‘head and cum for me, baby.”

You tugged harder and harder on her strands with every pulse of your orgasm, the increasing sting on her scalp had her moaning right along with you. The way you were squeezing and oozing on her fingers as you came down had Julien weak. She pulled her fingers out of you and into your mouth.

“Suck.”

Immediately you obliged, your head too foggy to imagine disobeying. Maybe tasting yourself on her fingers was dirty, but it had happened so many times that it almost felt romantic. To the two of you, experiencing the sensual evidence of your euphoria was just as pure and intimate as a kiss. 

You laid alone atop your sheets for a moment until she returned to you. She had removed most of her own clothes, leaving herself in a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt. She brought the wipes she had grabbed from your bathroom up to your pussy, navigating your folds simply with her memory. A soft furrow settled itself between her brows, displaying her focused state as she cleaned you up.

Once she was satisfied, she crawled up next to you on the bed. Pulling your head to lay on her chest. You looked up at her with wide eyes as she stroked your hair.

“Honestly, I never thought this would happen again,” her hushed voice tugged at your heart. “I know,” you said. “I’m glad that it did,” her inflection made the words sound like a question, but you didn’t answer, preferring the quiet to any unsure, over-thought reply you could give. She sighed gently and gave a soft peck to your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear. Smiles rested on both of your faces, yours spreading to hers.

It was funny how little you cared in the moment you knew you would come to regret. If you could bottle the pure ecstasy Julien had coaxed out of you, surely you would have good reason not to.

For better or for worse, no one else could ever possibly make you feel the way she did, and for right then, that was enough.

[absolventiia]

HE DOES NOT DIE A HERO.

#absolventiia is a multi - muse ft. prince aurane targaryen, an original character from grrm's a song of ice and fire. psd credit.

[ladybird-with-a-pen]

Okay a week or so back people were coming up with suggestions for Duke’s teen titan’s team, I thought up a world where the Teen Titans are as widespread and diverse as I want it to be with All child heroes included, and I had to make my own version and I ended up making it both overpowered as heck and a call back to the fab five teen titans so here it is:

Duke Thomas aka the Signal - the Bat

He joins the Teen Titans after the Outsiders disband for a time and seeks other connections in the super community. As the defacto leader of his team, he has to suddenly sympathize with Dick on being the leader of a bunch of superpowered teenagers.

Chris Kent aka Superboy - the Super

after being de-aged in his original story line back to 16 he gets dragged back to Prime/Rebirth Earth. Here he gets taken back in by the Kent’s and looks for connections in the super community and ends up teamed with Duke. He has a rivalry with Judy

Judy Garrick aka the Boom - the Flash

After Orphan Island, instead of joining the Young Justice Society (which instead join the greater Teen Titan community), she joins the teen titans and ends up making friends with Jackson Hyde. She has a rivalry with Chris.

Yara Flor aka Wonder Girl - the Amazonian

She joins the teen titans after a series of adventures with Donna and Cassie. She befriends Duke and Jackson and is mostly seen as the second in command.

Jackson Hyde aka Aquaman - the Atlantean

While the first to rejoin the teen titans after they reform, as they start to reconnect all the heroes that started as child heroes, he starts to look for a team he can join that he can work well with and contribute to. He ends up having really good teamwork dynamics with Duke’s team - when he isn’t getting caught up in competitions with them.

[amelikos]

Amethio.

[talisthighs]

Viktor wearing just the one glove did things to Jayce

And watching him take off his safety gloves (the times he remembers to use them)? Jayce has many a bi panic over the years

Jayce ALWAYS noticed viktors hands for sure. But for him to put gloves on…to peel them off….he was sweating, not understanding the things that were awakening him lmao. The bi panic comment is real you are SO right. JAYCE FT. VIKTORS SLENDER BEAUTIFUL METICULOUS HANDS

[scvcnofswords]

i will never force or assume ships- honestly my first goal with establishing contact between characters (including and ESPECIALLY any that mine may have romanced in-game) is just to establish some kind of bond.

Like is there a friendship there? Is there antagonism there? Is there a POTENTIAL for leadup to more, there? Or is this a platonic intimacy? Is this a sibling dynamic? Do these people genuinely care and respect for one another or do they despise one another? What sort of love is there, if any?

and honestly most of the time i will not nudge towards a ship because i'm hyper paranoid about being accused of ships being all i want. The attitude for afab ocs was uh- very different, when i first started with tumblr RP, and it's been literal years but i haven't shaken those anxieties, nor the constant fear that i'm constantly annoying or being a nuisance towards those i'm trying to befriend.

this is honestly just a psa that like- while i love ships, i love EVERY KIND of dynamic that could form between characters, and i'm down to explore any and everything. literally 2 of the most fulfilling dynamics i've formed since showing up here are the platonic soulmate relationships!

give me besties, give me contentious coworkers, give me platonic soulmates and twin flames, give me enemies, give me romantic soulmates, give me doomed loves, give me loves that somehow defeat the odds.

[seiwas]

how would choso act when he likes you?

would he stand beside you, leaving a few centimeters in between? not quite touching but enough to ward off anyone who might even consider trying anything?

does he brave the negatives just to show up at your doorstep? pale as snow, usually cold, but now heated, furious at the knowledge that someone's hurt you?

does he ever say it? when you catch him looking at you? or will you have to make the first move?

[helianskies]

winter prompts ☃️

'tis the season to write some slightly fluffier offerings for once! you know the drill! feel free to check with me if you are unsure if i'd write certain characters/pairings! <3

[ 1 ] - “what do you mean you 'don't need a coat'?”

[ 2 ] - “that was more ice than snow!”

[ 3 ] - “please don't fall!”

[ 4 ] - “maybe you could warm me up...?”

[ 5 ] - “look's like you've caught a cold.”

[ 6 ] - “you're so toasty!”

[ 7 ] - “thank you for making it special.”

[ 8 ] - “i'm actually allergic to holiday cheer.”

[ 9 ] - “let's build a snowman!”

[ 10 ] - “it's just a little something.”

[ 11 ] - “winter and i are sworn enemies.”

[ 12 ] - “but if i get out of bed i'll be cold!”

[ 13 ] - “look, a shooting star!”

[ 14 ] - “you did all of this yourself?”

[ 15 ] - “i can't believe you got me this!”

[ 16 ] - “that's the ugliest jumper i've ever seen.”

[ 17 ] - “you've never been ice-skating?”

[ 18 ] - “can i borrow your scarf?”

[ 19 ] - “come on, dance with me!”

[ 20 ] - “looks like we're snowed in.”

[ 21 ] - “office parties suck…”

[ 22 ] - “dinner is served!”

[ 23 ] - “at least pretend to like it!”

[ 24 ] - “here, warm yourself by the fire.”

[ 25 ] - “no one should be alone for the holidays.”

[ 26 ] - “i have something to ask you…”

[ 27 ] - “don't lick that pole!”

[ 28 ] - “i see we've ended up under the mistletoe.”

[ 29 ] - “hey, no peeking!”

[ 30 ] - “you're the best present i could have ever wished for.”

last year's list of wintery prompts is also over here for those who want to nose! happy december! and of course feel free to have a go at these yourself!

[alphaclxwn]

just some silly goofy guys bc i’m so autistic for them

[loveau]

Case Closed: Chapter One | Sehun

Genre: slow-burn romance, angst, mystery/crime

Summary: As the only person willing to take on this wild goose chase of a 10-month ongoing missing persons case, you have your head in your hands trying to figure out why 20 girls and counting have suddenly disappeared. You can't give up now that another girl has just joined that number. Good thing that your persistent crime reporter friend Oh Sehun won't let you quit either.

Word Count: 6.4k

T/W: minor violence, kidnapping, crime, uhhh not edited i'm sorry

A/N: I'M SOOOOO SORRY!!!!!! I've been on hiatus for 3 years LOLOLOLOL then i found this in my vault since may 4th, 2020 and i felt so bad that i wrote literally 3.5k words to finish this first chapter so i can just get it out. i have the whole thing fleshed out.......... i'm so sorry 🙈 also i don't really use this blog anymore but i figured i will just to get out everything again HAHAHA i do not expect this to get any traction at all but if you enjoy it then 🥺❤️

It started like any other day, which was a real cliché to put it. You walk into the station with your usual heavy eyelids and even heavier shoulders. Sleep was something you’d given up when you first started working as a detective, but the word was definitely out of your dictionary when you picked up the case. Most of your colleagues wouldn’t pick up the case. Mainly because they knew you’d be the first one to take it. However, after ten months you still haven’t found any new leads. Six months of chasing after ghosts and you always returned emptyhanded.

This morning, you had something into your hands. Flung into them, rather. A coffee and a file, courtesy of Jongin. Normally there’d be a smile gracing his face and a joke soon to follow to lighten up your mood. Instead there was a frown as he motioned down at the file in your hands.

“That’s number 21.”

You’re grim and you know it’s very apparent. How could you not be with the numbers stacked this high? You mumble a thanks and allow Jongin to linger a bit. He wants to say something, and you know it, but you also know he’s conflicted about whether or not he should continue bothering you.

“Jongin, I’m not dropping the case.”

He purses his lips and takes a tactical sip of his own coffee. After a moment to find the right words he sighs. “I know. I wouldn’t dream of trying to rip you away from that.”

A dry chuckle leaves you and you shake your head almost dotingly at your junior. “Of course.” You point a pen towards the office everyone knew too well after getting chewed out at least thrice. “But that doesn’t mean she won’t. She’s been on my ass for a while.” You’ve joked with your peers about the Boa Constrictor keeping you in her hold until you concede, but you’d never been on the receiving end of it until now. Except you definitely weren’t about to let go of this case.

There’s a moment of silence while he tries to come up with something else to say and you busy yourself with the new file. You curse when you look at the girl’s photo and information. “She’s only 15.” Jongin hums and scans over the information with you. He takes her photo out from beneath the paperclip and holds it up to the board where there were faces of 20 other girls on them.

“She doesn’t look like any of the others.”

“Not at all. She’s got some similar features to some, but… there isn’t a type.”

“If they even are getting kidnapped.” You scoff at that before taking the photo and thumbtacking it to the board. “Not that I’m saying you’re on a wild goose chase or anything, but…” He takes another sip of his coffee. You know the mug is empty. “21 girls who don’t have any connection to each other besides living in the same city… It’s really difficult to determine if they’re all being kidnapped or just-”

“Runaways, I know.”

“Look, they’re all around the ages too. Teen angst, wanting to start fresh in another city, eloping with a secret lover.” He sighs wistfully and moves to take another sip until he remembers his empty cup. “21 girls. No relation. Some of them did sports, but it’s a range. Some of them are in the same school district, but they have different schedules. Two of them lived in the same neighborhood, but that’s in a whole block of apartments.”

Your eyes linger at the girl’s face a couple seconds longer. You’ve heard it too many times by all the others to know that Jongin is implying they could be all coincidences. People runaway all the time, it’s true. You’ve definitely closed those sorts of cases and convinced a couple of them to work it out and return home. You just wish you had some concrete proof that this was different.

Jongin turns away, about to leave and continue his own work after getting more coffee. “I’ll get out of your hair now, but I’m just worried about you. You’re losing a lot of sleep for someone who looks like they’re chasing their own tail. Take care of yourself.” He’s off before you can bark a word at him, and you roll your eyes to yourself.

You take a sip of the coffee he’d given to you moments prior, but it had gotten cold since then. It was still a bit of a kickstart to your day anyhow. You had the cases of 21 missing girls all over the city resting on your shoulders. It was a miracle you got any sleep at all. You tried your hand at anything. Possible gang relations or involvements or some group or organization, and yet you found no link. Like you said earlier, there didn’t seem to be a type that was targeted as the girls were mainly different appearance wise. You’d even thought to consider some underground sex ring, but the information you’ve collected about some of them didn’t fit the bill.

There were a couple girls who were taken in their own homes. They had been the ones living alone, except one who was taken while her three roommates were all home. They had chalked it up to her not feeling well and when they decided to check up on her, she was gone. It just didn’t sit right with you that they had done everything according to their routine and yet they supposedly just ran away. Most didn’t seem to have any motive at all to do so according to their friends and family. Even though you knew everybody’s got secrets and skeletons to hide you knew that was the truth. It was a gut feeling, but it wasn’t enough.

A buzzing noise came from your pocket and you whip your phone out to see what notification it was this time. A random message from one of your friends on social media popped up. You wanted to swipe it away, but you decided against it and opened it up. It was a friend from college who had found some old photo of the two of you at some party, dressed up with a lot of skin showing but even more teeth on display. Back then the lack of sleep you had was because of the constant studying and partying, or rather taking some free booze and dipping when you got bored. It was still fun to socialize and watch everyone stumble dumbly, though. You responded back quickly by telling her to forward it to you. Before you pocketed your phone, you retyped your passcode to unlock the phone again and went into your contacts. Thinking about college reminded you of somebody.

The moment you stepped out you heard a familiar “Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Kim. Just checking in like I always do.” You could almost hear the smile in the woman’s face. Tension immediately left your shoulders the moment you heard her coo your name softly. It was like it was never there at all.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was just beginning to think you’d never call.” She laughs easily at her tease. She knew you would call. You always did. “I was just thinking about you actually. I heard there was another one…”

A sigh leaves your lips and you pinch the bridge of your nose before you answer. “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple of months hasn’t it?” She hums in response and you can hear her shuffling papers around, most likely sorting through the mail you know she never opens and gets to once a month at least. She pauses and you can hear her set the large pile down.

“Of course. Five months without my baby? She’s supposed to be starting school in a couple months. She was so excited when she got accepted. They have the best music program in the state, you know.” You knew all too well that her daughter was to be going to school at the best music school in the state. You listened to some of her recordings before after her mother had shown you. You like to think that it was just because of a mother’s pride, but you think it was to hear her daughter’s voice again as she talks through the piece and giggles at a small slip up in one of them.

It almost pained you that you couldn’t find her with what you had now. You were still as clueless as you were when she had gone missing five months ago.

“I’ll find her soon. I know I will. The next time you won’t get to see her is when you have to move her into the dorms. I promise you.” It was an unsure promise, to convince the both of you that you’d get it done. And soon. The shift from a lighthearted conversation had gotten grim fast. Those conversations had typically over the lunches you had with Mrs. Kim. She was the first case of this bunch and also the most optimistic of the friends and family. You felt that you had to keep her updated and in turn she continued to put her trust in you.

“I know. She’s counting on you; I just know it. She knows you’ll get it done somehow.” The words strike you in your core. That’s right, there’s a lot of people counting on you right now. One more family just got added to the list this morning. You try not to think about the handful of others that decided to have you stop looking after they’ve given up that their daughters would come back. It pained you to have them retract their hope enough to have you close their cases, but you wouldn’t stop even if they asked you. You didn’t want to have to leave them in the dark while their daughters were missing. Lord knows you were considering a murderer, but no bodies had turned up to your relief. You just hoped you didn’t have to continue praying for it not to happen.

The call ended quickly, and you spent the next couple of hours going over your information and collecting information from the family of the newest missing girl. She was hanging out with friends when she was all of a sudden separated from the group at the mall. It was a busy place, but camera footage and eyewitnesses last saw her roaming in a store before her trail goes cold. This was frustrating. Rumors had spread about the girl going missing already, but since she was a teen most people assumed that she just ran away. She was pretty social according to her friends, and they just chalked it up to her personality and hanging with the wrong crowd. You decided to ponder over it on your lunch break, calling up your regular lunch partner to meet you at some café a couple blocks away.

Sehun doesn’t have to wave you over for you to sit down at the table you know he’s already at. It’s almost a ritual, to eat at this café every other week and sitting at the same table, nonetheless. He smiles warmly at you and pushes a plate towards you. “I already ordered for you. And don’t worry, I paid for it as a thank you for last time.” You mumble your thanks with a mouthful of food, briefly remembering the time you covered for his ride home after one drink too many.

“You’re godsent, you know that?” His smile turns into a smirk at that and you roll your eyes when you see you’ve stoked his ego. “Before you say ‘I know’, take out that notepad.” His smirk drops and a look of concentration comes onto his face.

“You know, sometimes I like to think you keep eating lunch with me because you like me or that we’re friends or something. But I also tend to think you only keep me around for my work.” He’s teasing you again and you tap the top of his notepad.

“You’re very much aware how much I like having you around. And I’m very much aware about how much you love to collect the information. Sometimes I think you only come back to hang out with me is because I’m not as tightlipped as some of my peers and give you things you can actually report on.” Sehun chuckles at that and the crinkle around his eye is back with that childlike glimmer in the eyes. He looks a lot more at ease than his funky smirk and that impish gleam instead.

He uncaps his pen with his mouth, his other hand busy flipping to a brand-new page and holding a worn notepad with too many torn papers taken from it. He keeps the cap in his mouth and hums for you to signal he’s ready.

“She’s 15.” His eyebrows furrow and a lisped curse slips out of him as he jots it down. He shakes his head sadly at that. “Last seen at the mall with her friends. Eyewitnesses say that she was roaming one of the stores alone before she disappeared. Camera footage doesn’t pick her up leaving the mall, but it’s been picked clean.”

“Has her friends or family said anything about behavior? Being more secretive or distant lately?” Sehun’s habit of keeping the pen cap in his mouth makes his words very mumbled and hard to understand. However, being around him and working with him so often has gotten you used to his silly sounded sentences. You still reach over to pluck it from his lips and snicker that his playfully annoyed glare.

“You don’t think I’ve asked? No, parents and friends claim that nothing was up. They let me in her room and let me search to find any hidden notes. Even let me look through her diary and it was just about some kid drama at school. Seemed ordinary to me, nothing that made me have to investigate this drama. She’s not a part of it anyways, just commenting about how it’s the talk of the halls and dumb.”

Sehun taps the pen against his cheek while your fingers are fiddling with the cap. He’s obviously not to report your words verbatim as it’s not really relevant, but he does appreciate how you share your findings with him. He appreciates your trust in him that he doesn’t skew the details or add too much personal information about these people. He appreciates how you let your thoughts wander with him. You tend to loosely think around him, bouncing ideas off of him every so often or word vomiting to better understand things as you try to explain.

You’d finished with your food while Sehun continues writing and jotting down notes, most likely questions or other tidbits not too concerning for you. Whenever he asks a question he needs for the article you respond and then nudge his plate so that he eats. It goes on like this a couple moments longer until he’s out of food and questions. He finishes jotting down whatever else he wants to and sticks the tip of his pen out to you. You, used to this procedure, cap his pen and look back up into his satisfied eyes. You scoff at his smug look and avoid his gaze as he rests his chin in his hand. He continues to stare at you while you pick at any crumbs you find interesting.

“Got everything you need?”

“How about we get some dessert?” You almost object and tell him you should be back by now until he starts collecting his things and getting out of his seat. “And don’t worry. I’ll pay. You just have to pay me back next time.” You sink lower into your seat in defeat and groan, rubbing your hands over your face. He laughs a little and stands behind your seat, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Come on, Sugar. You’re gonna need some sugar to keep functioning the rest of the day.”

“You and your dumb nicknames are going to kill me before the stress from this case will.” He stops shaking you and gives you a fond squeeze of your shoulders.

“Let’s go before you die on me then.” You turn in your seat to watch him head towards the door before deciding to follow suit and grunting when you do get up. There’s a mini pep in his step and you’re guessing that’s because Sehun has another excuse to visit that favorite bakery of his that a friend of his works at. You couldn’t blame him. There were some doughnuts and cupcakes that were to die for.

As you passed by, you saw some missing persons posters hung up in some alley walls or taped to some lampposts. You’re guessing that’s how Mrs. Kim got news of the missing girl before you caught up with her. Sehun notices your gaze following the long trail of posters, most likely hung up by the gang of girls that were last with their friend. “Is that her?” The both of you come to a stop in front of a small cluster of the posters. He takes on down and holds it out in front of the both of you. You nod and Sehun folds the paper into fours and pockets it for later. “That saves me having to dig around to put that in the paper.”

He tries to keep the mood up as he hums a tune, swinging his arms around and looking around at the people walking the streets. It does little to help, but you do appreciate the thought as he glances at you every now and then to check in. He’s switched songs so many times since he opts for a different, better tune to keep him occupied. You’re trying to decipher his fifth song switch when you finally make it to the bakery.

“Kyungsoo!” Sehun sings into the shop as the door chimes noisily. Luckily, Kyungsoo isn’t tending to any customers at the moment. He pops his head out from behind the counter with a blank face and his lips drawn into a straight line. However he may look, there’s a happy sparkle in his eye at the sight of you two.

“What do you want now?” He asks sarcastically but readies himself anyways.

“I want something with chocolate.” Sehun says as he scans the overhead menu even though he knows exactly what he wants. “Please.” He doesn’t forget to add with a warm smile, which Kyungsoo returns in kind. They both turn to you expectantly and you sputter, not having anything in mind just yet.

“O-Oh! I’ll, uh… I’ll have…” You pause and bite your lips. Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by all the choices even though you’ve been here before.

“How about some donut holes? And if you don’t like it, you can always have some of mine,” Sehun offers as he turns that warm smile to you.

“What, trying to stick with that cops eat donuts type of thing?” You joke but are grateful at the distraction from you bumbling about. Kyungsoo lets out an amused huff and prepares something for you both of you, making sure to toss in a couple extra pieces in the bag for you. You give him a silent thanks as you nod and take the bag from him as Sehun whips out his wallet in a practiced manner.

The first bite of the donut hole is full of cinnamon and a little honey. Kyungsoo’s been experimenting and you hum at the taste as you squeeze the half-bitten donut hole. As Sehun’s card is ringing up he turns to you with an eyebrow as he wordlessly asks how it tastes. Instead, you offer him the rest of your bite while you chew, and he instantly opens up his mouth to eat the rest. It’s almost like you’ve done this a million times in your life and a million more in your past lives together; you’ve known each other for that long, you think. The motion is easy and simple as he hums and turns back to collect his card and compliments Kyungsoo’s creation with his mouth full.

“It’s good. I like the new flavors, it’s better than just the boring sugar on it.” The words are muffled and both you and Kyungsoo give him a judgmental look as he wipes some of the cinnamon off the corner of his lips.

“… Thank you. I’ve been slowly trying to add more to the menu where I can,” Kyungsoo notes, and you look up again at the menu to see he’s added another couple options beside his regular few in his neat handwriting. He smiles at you again when you look back down. “Keep up the good work. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

You promise him and Sehun gently nudges you to turn and leave so he has a better exit path. It’s not like he couldn’t have gone around you, but it seems he opted to just turn and go. And with his broad shoulders, it seemed you were in his path. You nudge him back as you exit the bakery with your treats in hand.

“What are you doing tonight?” Sehun asks with his mouth full again, this time from a bite of his chocolatey pastry. Crumbs fly in the air and the snort as they do so, but your friend knows no shame and continues to look at you expectantly.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Probably looking over the case again… and waaay more paperwork than I’m happy with.”

He hums at that as he continues to walk you back to the station. You feel like he’s about to ask you something else, but you’re cut off by your phone ringing and his own buzzing with a couple messages.

“Breaks over.” He comments with a sigh as he scrolls through the messages and tries to type back with the same hand that grips his phone.

“It is.”

The both of you look at each other and trade another bite of each other’s treats. You took a bite of his mainly since you wanted something sweet, and he had his own bite since you felt like you had to repay him for it. He gives you a wave as he, thankfully, doesn’t shout with his mouth full of donut as he heads off to his office building. While you head back, you manage to catch the phone call on its last couple of rings before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“It’s Boa. You have a couple more files on your desk regarding the girls,” she says with a tired sigh. You know the chief thinks this is wasting time and resources, but you also know she wants to give these girls justice. “Some more schedules of their routines, some stuff they had upcoming, and some chat histories. There’s also someone waiting at the station to talk to you, a friend of the most recent one.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Good,” she states and hangs up the call. You huff and make your way back to the station with a quickened pace. You wonder what this friend has to say since you’ve interviewed the family and teachers recently. Your mind is still reeling with possibilities when you make it back and find a familiar face at your desk.

“Yena, what can I do for you?” You ask kindly as you take a seat by the high school girl. She has a puffiness around her eyes that indicate she hasn’t been able to get a lot of sleep and has probably been crying a lot. You offer her some of your donut holes and she politely declines by holding a hand up before thinking of the right words to say.

Yena was the same age as her missing friend, 15 with a short bob and still wearing her school uniform. You’re wondering if she skipped school to come here, and she confirms your suspicions as she wrings her hands. “I just give you these. I found these in Chae’s locker, it’s some of her notebooks and some flyers. These events are all in the past, but one of them is her dream journal. We both keep one to achieve our dreams, except she doesn’t share hers because she thinks that the dream won’t come true then.”

You take the stack of papers and notebooks from her, eyeing the one she was referring to. It can’t be mistaken with the doodling, stickers, glitter, and large words that say ‘DREAM JOURNAL!’ right on the front.

“Thank you, Yena.” You say kindly, knowing that you’ll have even more to sort through and probably come out empty handed with, but every little bit helps. If you could be armed with even that much of a toothpick, you’d count it as a win.

“I just want my best friend to come back. That’s all I’ve been writing about in mine! I want her to come home.” Her eyes water and you push a box of tissues to her. She takes a shaky breath and dabs at her eyes gently and you realize that her eyes are redder than you thought. She dabs to prevent further irritating her eyes that have been covered in makeup to hide just how bad she’s been taking it.

“I promise, you won’t need a journal to make that come true, okay?” You say gently and comfort the poor girl. It’s another 15 minutes before she gets up and leaves, going back to school she promises.

You sigh as you look at the stack of notebooks she gave you. It was all her school notebooks besides her dream journal, which you knew wouldn’t be much of a look through unless you wanted to relieve your high school days and quiz yourself on whatever the kids were learning these days.

“You know, you shouldn’t be promising things like that.”

“Jongin, that girl was crying.”

“And you don’t think she won’t be if you can’t deliver that promise?”

You clench your hands into fists, narrowing your eyes on the word that seems to be mocking you right now. Because it might be true, you can only ‘DREAM!’ that this will all come to a happy end. Jongin sighs and pats your back.

“I’ll help you get through like 3 of those. Make sure it’s all just random notes so you know if they have anything that’s not about some ancient literature piece, okay?” He asks gently and you take a deep breath.

“Okay,” you say quietly and start sorting through the flyers first.

A lot of them are of school events, cram school, auditions for some of the modeling or singing agencies, and one was even a poster of an actor you recognized from a popular drama currently. You chuckled as you saw the sticky note still attached to it that indicated Chae’s wishes to marry a guy like him. A couple more hours pass in between you checking the notebooks, painstakingly flipping through and reading every page just to make sure, and having to deal with other logistical tasks around the office.

Like promised, Jongin eventually makes it through the notebooks and puts them all on your desk with a sad shake of his head. “Math, English, and Composition. All notes, most of it is textbook and following what they did in class. Anything else was practice problems or doodles. These are no good.”

You groan and hang your head. “I’ve just barely gotten through her other two notebooks. A music one from a piano unit and one she kept solely for cram school. The flyers are all past events or just random ones that I think were trash and she never got to throw away.” You look pointedly at the crumpled up flyer that was from her school’s ‘Fish Club’… whatever that’s about. “Had to get through all the other files from the girls too… nothing new. I saved that dream journal for last.”

“Why, so you can honor making sure her dreams come true?” Jongin asks with a smile, lifting your spirits some.

“Yeah…” You trail off absently. You aren’t sure if maybe you were truly keeping up Yena and Chae’s superstition about their dream journals or if you were hoping that the last thing you got to would prove you some substantial evidence. Maybe you should’ve gotten to that first if so. But then you would’ve needed to spend extra time on it. Ugh! Another sigh makes it way out of you and Jongin frowns now.

“Save that for tomorrow. How about you come out with some of us for some drinks tonight? Get that tension off you.” Jongin gives you an expectant look as he sits on your desk. You rub your face and look up at him through your fingers as you slouch in your chair. “And don’t even think about getting to that journal tonight. Your brain is fried, you need a break, you’re burning yourself out.”

You purse your lips at him and groan again, this time throwing your head back over the top of your desk chair and spinning in it a little.

“Fine. But only for a little bit.”

Famous last words. It was not just a little bit. Jongin kept you entertained and kept handing you drinks as you listened to your peers share drunken stories. Even Jongdae came in for a little bit to say hi to everyone and cry a little about his wife and kid, showing everyone pictures. You were sure that he was sober and just living the high of life.

A twinge of jealousy shot through you at him being able to enjoy his life so much right now. You downed your drink and stared at the empty cup grumpily. You felt just like the cup. Maybe you are a cup. Did your legs always feel like that?

“Woah, you doing okay?” Jongin asks as he gets into your space to take a look at you. He was pretty tipsy, but doing way better than you right now. Both in spirits and sobriety.

“Jongiiiiin, I’m like this cup.” He has to jump back a little as you shove your cup in his face. “You see how it’s wet on the outside?”

“From the ice?” He asks with a raised brow.

“I’m all sweaty!” You shout at him, suddenly feeling like the room is a lot hotter.

“No, you’re not.”

“Look! Feel!” You try to grab his hand to bring it up to your forehead and he grimaces. He shakes his head and you try a couple more times before he pins your hand to the table and reaches for his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you home,” he says as he scrolls in his contacts. You try to look at the screen to see who he’s calling, but he brings the phone straight to his ear and turns a skeptical eye on you to make sure you don’t keep trying to bring his hand to probably stick you in the eyes.

You’re too distracted by pouting to care who he’s talking to. And your head hurts. The alcohol is hitting you fast. How much did you have again? Or was it because you drank the rest of your three-fourths of a cup in less than a minute? When was the last time you even drank like this? Since before you took on the first case ten months ago?

“He’s coming in 15,” Jongin says in your ear. You pop your head up from the table. You didn’t even know you had it down on the table in the first place.

“Who?” You ask sluggishly as you try to keep your eyes open. You don’t bother hearing a reply as you quickly make your way to the bathroom. It’s quieter in there, and colder too. You feel better already by giving yourself some space and time to think for yourself. Not really feeling like you need to get everything out just yet, you lean against the wall and take some deep breaths.

Eventually, there’s a knock on the door and a call for your name. It takes a couple more tries before you push yourself off the wall and wash your face.

“Oh, good. I thought I was going to have to pull your head out of a toilet bowl.”

You yell out in shock, water flinging everywhere when you look up to see Sehun in the mirror.

“What are you doing here?” Water drips off your chin and you remember that you were washing your face. You sigh and see if any got on your shirt – a lot did – and look for the paper towels to wipe.

“At the bar or in the bathroom?” He asks. You grunt in response, eyes blocked by the soggy paper you’re using to scrub the water from your eyes. “Jongin told me you had too much and needed to be brought home. And again, I was making sure you didn’t decide to punish yourself and give yourself a swirlie.”

“Why would I do that?” You grumble at him. Your head was a lot clearer thanks to the rest, you probably spent all of Jongin’s promised 15 minutes against that wall. Plus, the water cooling you off made you feel like you could at least walk to a car before passing out.

“He said you looked sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

He gives you a once over. Hair a mess, probably from the wall. Face still red, from scrubbing with that scratchy paper towel, embarrassment, or the alcohol, probably from all three. Clothes wet from you spilling two handfuls of water all over yourself. And the heavy burden of the finding of 21 girls coming crashing back down onto your shoulders.

“Yeah… you look pretty sad to me.”

“Thanks,” you bite a little harsher than you intend to. But, thanks to the one who made you build a tougher skin with a level of sass on his own, Sehun takes it all in stride and smiles. He merely grabs you by the shoulders and leads you out of the bar. Jongin nods and waves you off, keeping your coworkers distracted by the state you’re in so you don’t get teased when you come back the next morning.

Between the time Sehun came and got you and when he arrived, he had already transferred your stuff from your coworker’s car to his. You saw this when he helped you climb in and your bags of notebooks were sitting in the back seat. Sehun buckled you in and shut the door for you. The state of mind you were in currently clearly showed you could do at least that, but Sehun chose not to care and did it for you anyways while you watched him walk around the car to the driver’s seat.

“If you fall asleep, just know that I’m not carrying you inside.”

“So my knight in shining armor does have a flaw for tonight’s rescue.” You sarcastically bat your eyes at him and he chuckles, shaking his head and he starts towards your apartment.

“I meant to add that I’d probably be dragging you up those three flights of stairs. By your feet. Head hitting each step.” Before you can ask why in offense, he grins with a shrug. “You went through all that training, not me. All my muscles go to my ears for listening to you go on and on about cases.”

“I’m the reason why you have a job,” You grumble as you stare at the passing buildings. Sehun keeps that stupid smile on his face and laughs.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The ride to yours is a lot quicker than usual since at this hour it’s already late hardly any traffic. Again, Sehun is humming some songs and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. At least this time there’s less of him switching it up since he’s forced to sing along for the whole 3 minutes. He’s still humming as he grabs all your stuff from the back seat and follows you up the stairs to your apartment. You silently curse the fact that the elevator is down for maintenance since you wish you didn’t have to climb that much while drunk. You feel even worse when you realize that Sehun took all of your bags and all of those notebooks, binders, and files are no joke. It’s a wonder that kids can carry all that on their backs plus whatever else you put into the bags.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sehun asks as you pause on the steps, a little behind you and huffing a little.

“For someone who claimed he doesn’t have the strength training to carry me up the stairs, you sure are doing real fine while walking up two and a half flights of stairs and carrying all those books.” Sehun lets out another huff, shorter than usual that let you know he was working up quite a sweat.

“I work out.” He says plainly and grins at you again, which makes you roll your eyes at the statement and continue forth. He’s been over before, plenty of times. He’s come over to bring food on your sleepless nights when you just can’t sleep or spend so long trying to work on another case.

You finally make it to your apartment and eventually into your room. Sehun had set the bags down by your couch where you already had a bunch of files spread out on the coffee table. He tuts and grabs one of the papers and gives it a quick skim.

While you change into comfortable, cleaner clothes he hums and calls out from your small space. “You really need to learn about work-life balance.” He sets the paper back down and goes about preparing you some essentials for when you wake up in the morning definitely hungover.

“You know why I can’t,” you call back as you collapse onto the bed with a groan. Your body all of a sudden feels so heavy and it’s hard to keep your eyes open. You huff into your pillow as you try to block out the haunting words of all the names of the 21 girls that prevent you from sleeping at night. That prevent you from functioning unless you can figure out a way to bring them all home.

From your couch, Sehun makes himself comfy and sighs. He folds his hands over his stomach and quietly says to himself, “Yeah… I know.”

[queenaquataine]

jjk headcanons i have (why not) (spoilers)

Y'all remember in like episode 5/6 where Sukuna makes a deal with Itadori basically saying, "I get control for a minute, but I can't hurt anyone, and you won't remember this" and Itadori finds this mighty fishy, so they agree to fight to the death about it (Itadori wins, it never happened, Sukuna wins, it happens) and Itadori immediately loses.

I just imagine whenever Itadori's at some shop, and Sukuna takes over and mad dashes to the spice aisle. He looks in awe as hundreds of different unique spices (history side of Tumblr fact check me, Herion era I think) and shoves all of them into the cart, with a bunch of honey. He just goes around getting the most basic items until Itadori comes back and is so confused because there's 50 different kinds of spices in his cart, honeycombs, a hairbrush, various makeup products, and a bottle of coffee flavored coconut milk. And he's halfway across the store looking at a lamb head.

And he'll just go back to his dorm room and be like "welp it happened again... Oh well." and never question it.