#But this is the only way I can really start my adult life so?? I need it to move into town rip rural livng

[theemporium]

putting up the christmas tree with quinn hughes pls 🥰

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

series masterlist

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“You really didn’t have to come.”

“Did you not want me here?” 

“I—no. Wait, yes but—”

“It’s your family’s Christmas tradition,” Quinn interrupted, shooting you a look that felt more amused than exasperated. “Did you really think I was going to miss it?”

“You have a game in two days,” you deadpanned. 

“This may surprise you but I am aware of that fact,” Quinn retorted, his lips twitching upwards when you lightly smacked his arm in response. But he caught your hand before you could pull back, pulling you closer to him. “Babe, I wasn’t gonna miss this for the world. We used to join in all the time when we were kids.”

“Yes. When we were kids. And weren’t proper adults with proper jobs that require proper rest,” you grumbled. “Plus, my parents don’t care. It’s been years since—”

“It has been years but this year is different,” Quinn acknowledged with a small nod. “This year, I’m more than just a family friend. I’m your boyfriend. I want us to be a part of each other’s lives and traditions, even if it means flying out in the middle of a three day break just for one event. You’re important to me and I want to show that.”

Your face softened completely, something in your chest tightening at the small but genuine smile on his lips. “Fuck, now I look like a dick for trying to make you stay with the team.”

Quinn huffed out a laugh. “It’s cute you care about the team so much.” 

“They are a part of your life,” you countered, throwing his own words back at him. “Of course I care about them.” 

Quinn’s smile widened. “See? You’re starting to get it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, playfully rolling your eyes before shoving him in the direction of the door. “If you wanna help, you can go help grab all the boxes from the garage.” 

It didn’t take too long for all the boxes to be brought into the house, stacked up in the living room before your mother started allocating everyone jobs. You shrieked when Quinn slipped his cold hands under your shirt, sending a shock through your system before you shoved him away and pushed the tangled Christmas lights into his hands as retaliation. The boy only grinned wider in response.

Memories flashed through your mind about spending Christmas with the Hughes family when you were younger and lived right next door. Your parents always taking over the decorating once the rest of you got bored, the tantrums and arguments on who got to put the star at the top, the cookies that Luke always managed to get an extra one of (your mother always gave in to his puppy dog eyes). 

Those memories were fond but you think you liked this better, watching the way Quinn joked around with your family and took the playful chirps in good stride before dishing them out just as good. It felt different to your childhood, it felt like a new tradition that you were eager to do every year in the future. 

“My side looks way better than yours,” Quinn stated confidently as he settled into the spot next to you, his arm thrown over your shoulders to tug you into his side with ease. 

You snorted, lightly elbowing him. “You’re lucky you’re good at hockey because your eye for detail is abysmal.” 

“College girl showing off her fancy vocabulary,” Quinn teased before leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “S’fine, I’ve got years to practice. Your parents are going to be begging for me to decorate the whole tree alone in no time.” 

You shook your head fondly. “So humble.”

He beamed. “Always.”

“Stick to your day job, Hughes.” 

“I take it back, I’m not sharing my cookies with you anymore.”

.

[maxdibert]

Why do you think Sirius gave up on his family? Do you think he thought they would forgive him for becoming friends with a blood traitor so he just did what he wanted but as the war progressed he realized he has to actually make a choice? Like he took it as a rebellion and angst at the beginning and only later realized how real the pressure was? Did he not love them enough? What was the deal there? (I know you are a Snape account but I love your takes on other characters as well that's why I'm asking for your opinion on this. Btw I read your fic and I love the way you write Snape's internal dilemas)

Well, you can ask me about any character—I don’t exclusively talk about Severus hahaha and i love to rant about things so... Also, Sirius? Can’t stand him. But I like him as a character because I find him so cynical and hypocritical that he’s absolutely fascinating. I’ve always had this love-hate relationship with rich kids from ultra-conservative families who play at being progressives and think they’re these righteous justice warriors but, at the end of the day, are still just privileged kids with privileged prejudices and privileged habits. And I mean that sincerely—no irony intended. I’ve met plenty of people like that in my life, and I think Sirius is a very realistic representation of the cognitive dissonance that people like this tend to have.

That said, here’s something I’ve always thought. Obviously, this is a personal headcanon based on my own experiences with people who fit his profile, but I think it holds water. Usually, people like this—those who grow up in oppressive environments and eventually become atheist anti-religion types, join the communist party to scandalize their ultra-right-wing parents, or turn into crypto bros after ditching the vegan hippie commune their parents raised them in—do this stuff in late adolescence, almost as adults. But Sirius? He starts rebelling really early, as a kid. By the time he’s 11, he already feels the need to rebel against his family.

It happens the moment he meets James, when James establishes that Slytherin is the worst. Sirius comments—offhandedly, without any resentment or anger—that his whole family’s been in Slytherin. He doesn’t seem like he’s at war with them yet, but you can tell he kind of likes the idea of not being in Slytherin just to piss them off. Add to that the fact that he hints in OotP that his dad was a pushover and calls Regulus an idiot—like he was just a fool—but he doesn’t seem truly resentful toward either of them. Sure, they didn’t have a great relationship, but when he talks about them, it’s more with antipathy than hatred. All of this leads me to the same conclusion: mommy issues.

Sirius had major mommy issues—or at least, that’s how I see it. Rich boys with daddy issues rebel by trying to become powerful men, detached from the arena where their fathers succeeded, but determined to surpass them. Rich boys with mommy issues? They turn into psychos. Seriously, that’s just how it works—I don’t make the rules. I think Sirius always clashed hard with Walburga because (and this is my favorite part, because this isn’t just a headcanon; I’m absolutely convinced of this from the little we see of their interactions—or of him with the portrait—in the books) they had the same shitty personality.

Walburga was a dominant, explosive woman with an imposing, even despotic, character. It’s very reminiscent of Bellatrix and, by extension, very much like Sirius. I think Regulus and Orion had similar personalities—the same kind Narcissa shows: arrogant, smug, classist, but restrained and composed. Egocentric, but calm. Walburga, Sirius, and Bellatrix are the other side of that aristocratic coin: the type who believe they’re entitled to everything and everyone, the kind who bulldoze over everything in their path. They’re wild and uncontrollable personalities, especially if someone tries to rein them in.

In my mind, Sirius took after his mom, and Walburga couldn’t stand having someone so much like her constantly challenging her authority. Sirius, meanwhile, couldn’t stand her trying to control him. So at age 11, his rebellion was probably just a tantrum aimed at his mom, a way to piss her off as much as possible. From there—and thanks to James’s influence, as well as the credit Sirius gave James because, spoiler-not-spoiler, James was also a rich pureblood wizard like him—he started adopting James’s worldview. Not because it was rooted in firm beliefs or clear reasoning, but because James had a family that wasn’t insane, so he was probably right. And if parroting James’s ideas at home gave his mom a few gray hairs, all the better.

It snowballed and escalated until the relationship was unsalvageable. James offered him a place to stay if he wanted to leave, and Sirius moved out. But the start of it all? A tantrum aimed at mommy. Sirius has some massive mommy issues he just can’t handle. And the funniest part? He’ll do anything to avoid being like her. He’ll go to any length to do the exact opposite of what she would do. But in the end, because they share the same awful personality, he behaves in the same violent, despotic, narcissistic way she did—just with different victims: Kreacher or Severus, for example.

It’s a brilliant little Oedipal case study.

[twilightkitkat]

I'll have you know that I am heavily considering writing something based off of your latest Time travel idea. It is already in my list. Because I genuinely cannot stop thinking about it

I love time travel as a concept and I'm honored you were inspired by my idea. I'm sure it'll turn out amazing, make sure to tag me when you finish it.

I'm considering what to write of my own. To be honest I've been a bit busy lately because my finals are in a week and I have a lot of things due and I've also had a lot of plans, but I want to get back into writing more consistently.

For the time travel idea, I think it'd be really interesting to consider his relationships with everyone. He avoids the X men with a passion, absolutely not wanting to get involved (especially when Logan isn't a part of them yet, he checked). Colossus isn't even an adult yet so he can't go bother him either...

His relationship with the Avengers is complicated. He's somewhat of a son to Tony, except for the fact he's much older than he claims and can take care of himself. He isn't as good with Tony at engineering, but he knows how to work with his hands and has brilliant ideas so he ends up hanging out in the lab anyway. Mainly to fiddle with random shit and offer insight that's a little too on the nose considering he only knows some programming (he starts to learn more, though).

With Cap, he's awestruck at first. That's his childhood hero, after all. But once the initial excitement wears off a bit he's able to work well with him, bouncing off his shield like a fucking boomerang and responding with witty quips. Steve grows fond of him pretty quickly.

As for the others, he interacts with them in his own way. He chats with Bruce (particularly about Gene editing, sue him) and has fun jumping up on the Hulk when they fight together. He gets along with Wanda and the Black Widow because he understands suffering and doing what's needed and he has this perspective beyond his years. He makes fun of Hawkeye and buddies up to Thor (mainly because he remembers that scene of him holding him in his arms).

Despite this, he avoids conversations about joining the Avengers. In this life, they actually want him. But also in this life, he has a better team he's waiting for.

[crazylittlejester]

I’m curious to know what background you’ve created for Wild in your modern au (if you have)

I’ve seen him mentioned in a bunch of your other posts about the main three so I thought you might have some things to share with us about him 🤷

The au definitely centers around Wars, Twilight and Sky, but of the six others, Wild is someone who pops up most frequently because the main three all know him and also he is Wars’s closest and oldest friend (Time and Legend are the other two who pop up a lot, Time being Twi’s adoptive father/uncle and Legend being Sky’s coworker and also he lives directly below the main three). I talked a bit about Wild’s background here when I was saying how he met the others, but I can talk more about him :)

(my bad for spelling errors or weird grammar mistakes)

- Wild and Wars have known each other close to 15 years because they skated together. they’re about a year and a half-ish apart and separated by 2 school grades (though they definitely shouldn’t be because Wars is very young for the like. year of school he’s in (?)). They were close when they were little, like 5 and 7 to 12 and 13/14, but once they were competing (and competing against each OTHER) their coaches kinda pit em against each other and they grew apart though they were never MEAN to each other

- Wild was basically raised just to become a world champion. He grew up thinking that was the only way he could earn worth, and it really sucked because his entire childhood was hearing everyone talk about WARS and how WARS was going to become a top skater and someone who’d be remembered in history and Wild started to hate him a bit when they were like 14 and 15/16 because he just could not beat Wars

- Throughout grade school he became very close with Mipha because as a swimmer she too understood what it was like to have to wake up before school and go to practice and they bonded over that. They’re still very good friends even though she goes to college on the other side of hyrule

- The year Wars qualified to compete as an adult he did, and Wild was so excited that entire year because he felt like he actually had a chance and even the coaches and people online were saying he was likely to win gold, and he spent an entire year pushing himself to his limit and training so so so hard because he finally had his chance, and then at the comp he didn’t land a jump properly and he fell and just destroyed his hip. He tried to keep going and he just couldn’t and he wasn’t able to finish and ended up needing surgery. Wars was one of if not THE first one to visit him, and realizing that Wars never hated him at all and that he’d literally dropped everything to check on him meant an awful lot to Wild

- It was very hard for him to retire from skating because his self worth and how he viewed himself was so connected to how he preformed, but his doctors and physical therapists told him it would likely be impossible for him to ever get to a point where he could perform the same and they didn’t tell him to quit COMPLETELY but Wild viewed it as an all or nothing situation so he did

- Things were rough for him for a while, relearning how to move and manage his pain and then on top of that having to figure out what to do with his LIFE, but eventually he found fashion and photography. Wars was there for him through all of it (as much as he could be because he was very busy, but he texted Wild multiple times a day and they would call like 4 times a week), and Wild was there for Wars when HE retired too

- Some days he can get around alright, other days he uses a cane or crutch to help him walk and reduce pain. On good days he’ll sometimes go mess around at the rink with Wars, not doing anything too crazy

- Wild’s a fashion/art major in college now, he goes to the same school as the others, and he and Wars meet up at LEAST 2-3 times a week. Wars was his first real friend and the person in his life he’s the closest to, they understand each other and the shit they both went through in a way no one else can. Wild helps Wars film tiktoks of him skating, Wars models for anything Wild needs him to, if Wars needs professional photos for anything Wild will take them, if Wild ever needs someone to go shopping for fabrics with he’ll grab Wars. Twilight also gets dragged along sometimes but his eyes start to glaze over looking at the different fabrics and yarns because its all just shapes and colors to him almddkkd

- He loves sewing, knitting, crocheting, and quilting. All his close friends have been gifted blankets and a handmade little guy at some point. He also makes jewelry

- He LOVES to do fun things with his hair. He hasn’t cut it since he stopped skating (aside from trims to keep it healthy) so thats nearly four years of hair growth and its decently long

[marisol-000]

The Sandbox Scientists ch. 3

Sooooo I may have been off about how long this would take, in my defense this is only my second multi-chapter fic! My solution to this is to stop guessing when things will be done so you get ch. 4 when you get it <3

Something I realized when double checking the opening scene is that I accidentally made it very unclear which Henry is narrating XD, I’ve decided to leave it that way

Big chapter this time! I thought about splitting it up but that's lame so you get what you get <3 Happy Thanksgiving!

(a03)

Henry was over the moon.

The adults liked science!!!

The adults like science the way they liked science!!!!!

They weren't mad or grossed out at all! Like the other grown ups and kids were when he talked about it.

The “Lodgers” as they called themselves had shown him and the other him all sorts of cool stuff! Like a GIANT octopus, and a metal man with glowing eyes, the biggest telescope he’d ever seen in his life, and even mice that were invisible!

There were so many labs here that were used for all sorts of things he didn’t understand yet!

Mr. Sinnet even let them hold his flamethrower!!

Not even his mother liked when he showed her his ‘science projects’. But these guys! They let him put his hands in the dirt and pick up a plant that moved!

Other Henry touched some slime that didn’t stick if he was fast enough!

And one of the lodgers gave them candy!

Whatever this place was was the best place EVER! He hoped Momma would let them come back sometime.

Archer, their new friend, leaned next to them while they tried the big lollipops someone named Doodle gave them.

“So, what kinda science is you two’s favorite? Neuroscience? Engineering? Cryptobiology?”

No one ever asked Henry what kind of science he liked! He also didn’t know what those words meant but he couldn’t wait to find out!

“Potions! I like to make potions with stuff I find outside! Oh and monsters! When I grow up I’m gonna be a monster doctor so I can help monsters when they get sick!”

Other him jumped in at this. “Yeah! I’m gonna make potions that bring people back to life, like Frankenstein!”

Someone nearby gasped. A hushed mutter ran through the crowd at this. Lodgers who had started to drift away and chat with their neighbors were suddenly pulled back into the boys’ conversation.

Archer straightened, and had an odd spark in his eyes.

“Sooooo, you like Frankenstein then?”

They nodded, “Mm hm! He’s the coolest scientist ever! I wanna be just like him!”

The whispers grew louder, with people giggling and nudging each other.

“You don’t say? Then I bet it’d be <em>really</em> cool if I were to tell you about a certain someone who’s in town.” Archer mused.

Henry paused in trying to bite his lollipop, “Who?”

Surely they couldn’t mean…

“Oh no one special,” he said, someone snickered behind them, “It’s just that we just so <em>happen</em> to have a certain… mad scientist in our attic right now.”

The boys froze where they were. For a moment Archer got a little worried.

“FRANKENSTEIN?!?!?!??!?!??!”

Frankenstein was having a quiet day.

She’d had her fair share of that in life, living in the wilderness, distancing herself from society. Hell, even before everything she had isolated herself from the world, driven everyone away lest the small minds find out about her incredible experiments.

Which was fine, she didn't need anyone else. So what if the lodgers had barely stopped by to talk to her all day? It didn’t bother her at all! It wasn’t like she took the slightest indication that she was being ignored with anything less than the <em>utmost</em> grace and dignity.

She huffed into her book and pretended not to be eyeing the door instead of it’s pages. Glaring as though hating it personally. As if her lovelies were just on the other side waiting to see her and this stubborn door was the problem.

Creature, the stone wall, was as content as ever with the silence. Enjoying a book of his own in the corner, likely philosophy or something.

Although constant companions and wholly comfortable talking to each other, the two had worn out their conversation topics years ago. Either agreeing on certain things or tired of arguing in circles on others.

There were days when they'd debate for hours about something she was <em>clearly</em> right about and days where they pretended the other didn’t exist.

Lately he often mocked her about her ‘adoring fans’.

Judged her for how greedily she drank up the attention like a surgical sponge. Languishing in the first shreds of approval she’d had in decades.

Well, he hadn't actually said any of that, but he was thinking it! She knew he was!

She could just feel his disapproval in how easily she was letting herself get attached as if it were her own…

Bah! What does he know?

She hears them before she sees them, WAY before she sees them. The gaggle of lodgers charging up the steps with almost as much enthusiasm as they did on her first day awake.

The woman straightened immediately, practically tossing her book aside and giving her full attention to the door.

Finally, Frankenstein’s day was resuscitated as a crowd of almost every lodger in the building burst into her room. All chattering and shifting and even waving at her like her prison of a bed was a grand stage or operating theatre.

They kept a respectable distance considering how small the room was with so many people in it. And she preened under their attention, ignoring creatures sigh at his reading being interrupted.

“Frankenstein! Frankenstein!” everyone called out excitedly. Eagerly talking over each other.

Everyone was smiling and leaning around each other to get a better view of her. All their words blending together. 

A hearty laugh bubbled out of Frankenstein’s chest. They were so energetic and curious, smart and idealistic. They were perfect scientist material!

She wanted to put them all in her pocket and take them with her on her travels, tell them stories, show them the world.

Oh, how she resented that idiotic Doctor Jekyll for keeping them in a box. The way he had them eating out of his perfectly manicured hand, thanking him for their gilded cage.

Well it was about time they bit that hand!

Couldn't they see how the world was not in their books and manuscripts, it was out there!

Frankenstein held her gloved hands up to quiet the noise, taking a big breath for what was sure to be a rallying speech that would finally convince the so-called lodgers to fight for their freedom.

“Frankenstein! We have some special guests who want to meet you!”

She was cut off by a few of the lodgers. Fighting their way through the crowd, they were ushering someone to the front, entirely hidden behind the energetic scientists.

Frankenstein blinked in surprise as there, pushed out of the huddle as though in offering, were two…children.

She froze.

A cold wind rushed through her, instantly snuffing out the spark she’d held seconds ago. Cutting through her coat to her core.

The two boys in front of her were distinctive in appearance, it nagged at her, distantly. But all she could see was William.

“These are our newest recruits! Henderson and what was it? Benry? Yeah Benry.”

There was no way anyone named these unfortunate children that, unless London had gotten weird while she was gone, but the two seemed too entranced with her creature to correct them.

The boys weren't even looking at her like everyone else was, eyes instead on the homunculi like he was some celebrity they got backstage tickets to see.

“We found them snooping ‘round our labs!” “Cripes they were hard to catch.” “These two are gonna be fine scientists someday!”

The creature that had killed her youngest brother.

She understood why he did it.

She understood it was her fault.

It was her fault. For making a monster with such strength, just to see if she could. It was her fault for abandoning it, leading to the resentment and hatred for all like her. All Frankensteins.

It was her fault he was dead.

No! It was the price one paid for Science, she was wrong to have attachments then and she would not let herself get attached to these kids now. Not when it meant people got hurt. Not when - aannnnnnd Creature was letting them climb on him like monkey bars.

To her shock Creature was holding perfectly still, staring in utter befuddlement at the small things crawling on him like bugs.

As hesitant as he looked, he wasn’t stopping them. Merely watching.

It was… odd.

This had never happened to him before. Fully grown adults who were hardened from life and trained to deal with criminals turned tail at the mere sight of him, yet here were two children, gazing up at him with round eyes like he was Santa Claus.

“WOW, you’re Frankenstein's monster?!”

“Did you kill Frankenstein?”

“Are you gonna kill someone else?”

“How did Frankenstein make you?”

“Can we be friends?”

“Do you wanna play doctor with us? Mr.Tanis gave me a scalpel!”

One of the lodgers yelped, “What!? I most certainly did not!”

The way they were looking at him…

The lodgers looked at him the same way. At first he had taken it with suspicion, as he did all things. Assuming that their looks were of scientific curiosity, and that they were imagining all the ways they could dissect him. Take him apart and find out how he ticked, just like Moraue longed to.

But now, it was obvious, they were looking at him with childlike wonder.

Creature stared mutely as the lodgers wrestled the knife from the boy with brown hair, not quite understanding it yet.

The blond’s hair tickled as it brushed against his shoulder, though he did not react to it. The two children were being surprisingly careful where they placed their hands, taking care to not pull on any of his seams.

Creature watched as the little one slipped off, landing back first on his lap with an “oof”. The fall wasn't tall enough to knock the breath out of him though, so he seemed fine.

Creature lifted him up, holding the boy in one palm. He giggled in response.

One of the lodgers whose name he didn’t know called out to the boys.

“Hey! Didn’t you want ‘ta meet Frankenstein?”

The man was standing by the bed, gesturing to his creator with a smile.

The two boys gasped and scrambled to her.

The woman seemed almost startled to have her name called, snapping out of her trance.

Frankenstein shook the clashing thoughts out of her head. The two children at her bedside were staring at her, opening and closing their mouths like they couldn’t grasp what question to ask first.

She looked at the one with brown hair. She had snorted instinctively when he pulled an actual scalpel out of nowhere. A fine scientist indeed.

The blonde one had eyes like she’d never seen before. Perhaps he was some sort of creature? Or a descendant of one at least. No humans eyes produced light like that for no reason.

They looked at her like she hung the stars, like she held the secret to life itself. Which she did of course. 

No wonder these boys had snuck into the society just to see her! Why, who wouldn’t want to see the infamous Dr. Frankenstein!

And what's more, these precious children were untainted by Dr. Henry’s lies! The false ideas of what a mad scientist should be, reliant on his wealth and equipment.

Victoria had always seen herself as Job, a man who had everything taken from him, everything he loved and everyone who loved him, only to be rewarded for his faith.

She’d always seen the advancement of science as her reward for carrying out her experiments, a higher plane of understanding, the closest a human could come to godhood. But… hadn’t Job’s been everything he’d lost twofold?

Maybe, when she and Creature left London, they wouldn’t have to leave alone.

[I was struck by LIGHTNING when writing this sentence. All of the sudden a whole new plotline was open to me. One where Henry stays with the society and Edward is offered the chance to leave with Frankenstein to the _ forests.

It reminds me of gravity falls when the twins argue over Dipper taking Ford’s internship.]

Frankenstein puffed up her chest and launched into a story.

When Lanyon returned he waltzed through the kitchen door, swinging it open dramatically.

“Rachel, I'm back! I told the tailor Edward lost their bags on the trip here, so they need a new wardrobe.” he crowed, only to see an empty kitchen.

Hm, not in here. He wandered out again, peeking down random hallways.

He hadn't really told them that. As soon as he’d handed off the note and the words “childrens clothes” were out of his mouth Lady Beatrice and Lady Kimberleigh had practically mobbed him. Gushing and asking if he and Everly had finally had luck with a baby. He nearly had to beat the women off with a clothing hanger!

He shuddered at the thought of what rumors would come of this.

Regardless, the outfits were ordered and they could pick up a set in the morning.

“Rachel! Henry! Where in the blazes are you?”

“Robert!!”

He paused in the middle of the hall. That was Rachel. But he’d never heard her shout like that. She sounded almost scared, Rachel never sounded scared! Not even when Hyde disappeared after the fire.

He turned around and was surprised to see her running up to him with wide eyes, her hair a mess like she'd been running her hands through it. Her eyes red and puffy.

“Robert I’ve been looking everywhere and I <em>can’t</em> find them I can’t I've looked everywhere please tell me you know where they are.” she gasped, skidding to a stop.

His eyes widened, heartbeat picking up, “Know where- what?! Rachel you were the one who claimed <em>I</em> couldn't handle them, don’t tell me you’ve lost them already!”

The day manager tried to catch her breath, swiping a lock out of her eye.

“I was-! I took my eyes off them for just a minute! I left them to get changed while I made some sandwiches and I told- I told them to come to the kitchen after but they didn't and I went back for them but they- Robert they weren't there and I’ve <em>looked</em> everywhere oh what if they’ve left the building? Robert I <em>can’t</em> lose him again! I can’t!” she cried.

Lanyon had <em>never</em> seen her like this, she was always so sure and confident, it honestly made him nervous.

She reached out to him for a hug and he flinched back like her arms were livewires.

“Er, Well!! They can’t have gone too far! I’m sure they're just hiding or something. Kids do that, I think. Surely there's some nook or cranny you haven't checked yet!” He was stone stiff oh god where was Jekyll when you needed him, he can't comfort this poor girl!

Rachel just shook her head, curls flying, “No no I checked my room, Henry’s office, I checked all the labs and rooms and bathrooms I can’t think of anywhere else <em>to</em> look!”

“Well, they’ve gotta be here, can't the lodgers whip up some sort of, I don’t know, finding device?” He peered down the hall, hoping to flag down the nearest one and get them to deal with this. Unfortunately it seemed like he was on his own for this one.

“I don’t think that's how it works Lanyon, besides it’d take far too long, what if they're hurt?”

“Well they should at least <em>try</em>.” He huffed, “It wouldn't hurt to have more people looking either. Where are the lodgers anyway?” Now that he thought of it he hadn’t seen anyone besides Rachel since walking in.

Rachel sniffed, rubbing her face and breathing more evenly.

“Oh yeah, they were all running around earlier, some sort of emergency.

I think Griffin finally turned invisible and they lost him or something.”

She looked around, just noticing how empty the halls were.

“Uh, that was a while ago actually. They should have found him by now.”

Lanyon shifted uncomfortably. First Henry and Edward, now the whole society? Whatever was going on couldn’t be good.

In fact, it was almost suspicious how everyone had gone missing at the same time while he was gone…

“Wait. Oh god, What if the lodgers have them? The lodgers hate Henry! What if they took him away? What if they’re experimenting on him right now to find out why he’s small?!” Lanyon yelped.

Rachel frowned at him, “The lodgers do not hate Henry.”

“Oh yeah? What about the exhibition they’re all refusing to take part in? You’ve heard what they're saying about him, that he’s somehow corrupt and ‘rotten’ just because he hasn't gone off the deep end and killed anyone using science or something!”

“They're just going through a bit of a rebellious phase right now.” she defended, “And besides, even if they did, they love Hyde, they drink and play games all the time! They wouldn't hurt him.”

“That's worse!” Lanyon cried. He resisted the urge to run his hands through his styled hair, “Hyde’s planning on killing Jekyll for his will! What if the lodgers are in on it? What if they know he inherits the society? Now would be the perfect time to do it, they probably took him off to Queen Frankenstein while he’s small and defenseless!”

“Edward is <em>not</em> plotting to kill Jekyll!” Rachel shouted, “Would you give that a rest already! As for Franken..stein…”

The two looked at each other with wide eyes and bolted for the stairs.

“And that's when the beast pounced! I dropped my torch and rolled out of the way, I heard it crash into the brush behind me and took the chance to make a break for it. I ran all night, struggling to see my way in the dark and knowing it had no such human limitations. 

Miles away from civilization I knew my only chance was to somehow find Creature in the snowy woods before the beast found me.”

The lodgers gasped quietly and whispered to each other, sitting criss-crossed on the floor.

Both children were sat on Frankenstein’s lap, enraptured by her tale. They looked up at her with wide eyes, hanging on her every word.

“At one point I stumbled my way into a clearing, the…vollmond shining down on me. It was close behind, I could hear the thing snapping branches like twigs. I knew the only way was forward and started running. I could barely breathe, my legs felt like lead, with every step I took it only got closer, bounding after me on all six legs. It’s wide maw-”

The door slammed open with a bang. Everyone jumped, some people screaming in surprise.

Everyone whirled around.

At the door were two figures, hidden by the shaded doorframe.

Frankenstein huffed, more annoyed than anything. 

“Really doctor, this is the second time you've interrupted my tales for your insipid formula…Oh, the other one.”

The doctor coming toward her was not Jekyll, as she assumed, but Lanyon. The purple man was trudging through the crowd on the floor, stepping on hands and nearly tripping over people in his haste.

She crossed her arms, huffing, “Really, you and your-”

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

As soon as he was in range Robert snatched Henry off her lap. Earning a startled yelp from the boy.

Frankenstein jolted, confused. She hadn't seen this man much and while he was never the most agreeable person, she'd never seen him so furious.

She sputtered as he held the boy to his chest the way mothers did when she and Creature walked by. If she were in a better mood she’d get a kick out of the gentleman fearing her more than her creation.

“What in the world do you think you're doing? Grabbing this boy like you own him when I was <em>clearly</em>-!”

“What are you doing to him? Huh? Putting ideas in his head, trying to make him mad like you!” he accused, holding the boy tight while he squirmed uncomfortably.

“I bet you people are trying to brainwash him! Get him involved in unnatural things and mad scientist nonsense!”

Rachel, who was much shorter than the doctor and was caught behind the now-standing crowd of lodgers, tried to call out to him. “Er, Robert! I don’t think-” 

“Hey! What's your problem?” “We’re having storytime here!” “You're in the way!” “Leave him alone!” “Frankenstein ain’t done nothing wrong!”

Lanyon turned on the crowd with a snarl.

“Nothing wrong? Are you people crazy? She hit him!!”

Everyone gasped at the wild accusation. Of course they were on her side! Nevermind that Henry was just trying to help her when she hit him! Nevermind that she didn’t even have the grace to apologize!

One of the lodgers he did recognize, Helsby, immediately jumped to the quacks' defense.

“How <em>dare</em> you say that about Frankenstein! You rich pricks are all the same! Slandering good people's names when it suits you!”

“Frankenstein would never do that!”

“Yeah! We’ve been here the whole time and she never hurt him at all!”

Frankenstein herself looked unbelievably offended, her face a likely unhealthy shade of red for someone her age. “Dr. Robert I’m aware you disapprove of my presence here but I have NO intentions of hurting any child.” she spat coldly.

“Oh yeah? Even if that child is Jekyll?” He challenged.

“I- what on earth are you talking about you simpleton, that's not doctor Jekyll thats…”

Frankenstein looked at the boy squirming in his arms, <em>really</em> looked at him.

The smaller boy was still on the bed with her, pulling on the brunette in Robert’s arms. The brunette reached back, holding onto the other, looking at him with red eyes… he had a rather hooked nose…

The lodgers took up her rebuttal with vigor.

“What? Lanyon, did you hit your head man?”

“Yeah obviously that's Benry!”

Robert stared incredulously at the room full of scientists and doctors. Jaw hanging wide.

“<em>Are you telling me not a single one of you realized they're Jekyll and Hyde?!</em>”

Every person in the room stopped still.

“<em>WHAT???</em>”

“What did <em>Jekyll</em> do to get on Ito’s bad side?”

“Wait, you guys didn’t know that?”

“You did??? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I thought we all knew and just weren't talking about it!”

“WHY WOULD WE DO THAT?!”

“Oh, I thought they were Jekyll and Hyde's secret love children.”

“<em>What?!</em>”

“What, you think one of them's a girl? And besides, Hyde's only worked here the past two years, these guys are older than that!”

“So? Are you saying Hyde didn't exist before then or what? You think Hyde spontaneously came into existence two years ago? Huh?”

“Are YOU saying only girls can give birth? Some gals are guys!”

“Sure but Hyde??”

“He <em>is</em> rather short for a man his age.”

“Actually I was thinking Jekyll, he seems kinda feminine doesn't he?”

“Maybe Hyde knocked Jekyll up and recently found out about them! And he stayed to be a good father!”

“Pfft! Hyde? A good father? Now you're talking crazy.”

“I bet <em>that's</em> why Jekyll’s kept him around so long! He's the father of their children!”

Lanyon felt anger and disbelief rush through his whole body. He worked his mouth trying to say whatever was on his mind that wasn’t straight cussing.

“I - I - NEITHER OF THEM ARE WOMEN AND THESE AREN'T THEIR SECRET LOVE CHILDREN WOULD YOU LOT SHUT IT ALREADY”

Robert held a hand to his temples, his face screwed into a scowl.

“We suspect they were testing some sort of potion and something went wrong, turning them both into children.”

“Both of them drank it?” “What kind of potion?” “Wait but why don’t they remember us?” “Are they stuck like this?”

“Stuck like what?”

He stiffened. For a moment he’d entirely forgotten he was still holding Henry in his arms.

The boy was looking up at him, wide red eyes searching his face for something.

“Are-are we, we didn’t…?”

Suddenly Lanyon realized they had been hiding it. He and Rachel hadn’t mentioned who they were, why they knew them, or the real reason they couldn't go home. Hell they had even left the kitchen earlier to talk out of earshot.

They hadn’t meant to keep it from them. Honestly hiding it hadn't crossed their minds, but, neither did telling them. 

It felt wrong somehow. Like they weren't planning on having them around long enough to have the need to explain it to them. 

The boys hadn't asked why they knew them, too young to really distrust them. They just assumed all adults knew everything.

Before he had to answer and make everything worse, Rachel cut in. Now free of the jostling crowd and finally making it to Frankenstein’s bedside.

“Er, so, you remember when we found you, and we knew your names?” she asked.

The boys nod slowly, quietly looking at her.

“Well, nobody told us your names, we know them because, well I guess you told us.

We’re friends. We have been for a while, but, you two are supposed to be adults. Like us. Your names are Edward Hyde and Dr. Henry Jekyll. And you work here at the society, like we do.”

Henry tightened his hands on Robert's sleeve, face unreadable.

Edward gaped at the woman, still standing on the bed.

“But- but we’re not, we didn't drink any potions. We were at home!”

“I know, I know this doesn’t make any sense, I’m sorry for that. But, this isn’t so bad is it? We can take care of you! We’re gonna find a way to fix this. Right?”

She glanced at Robert, who was tight-lipped and looking at his friend with a distracted look in his eyes.

“Uh, right.”

“That-That’s ridiculous!!”

Right. Frankenstein was still there.

Robert slowly composed himself, the smugness he felt in realizing the woman had been speechless that whole time fueling his salty soul.

As mad as she had looked earlier, it was a cold sort of anger. This? This sputtering rage was fuming.

“This boy cannot be Dr. Henry! He is a scientist! That blasted doctor is nothing but a-a-a shameful fake and a stain on the name of science itself! Henry Jekyll is a disgrace of an alchemist and false idol of respectability and hollowness!

I detest that horrible man!” She gestured to the boy in Robert's arms, “How dare you make the wild claim that he is…that…”

Her eyes widened as she saw the expression on said boy's face.

Everyone in the room stared in horror as both kids BURST into tears.

“What is <em>wrong</em> with you??”

Rachel grabbed Henry from Robert. Who was holding the sobbing boy as far away from himself as he possibly could. Then snatched Edward up under her other arm. Storming from the room in a hurry.

She could hear Lanyon and Frankenstein start shouting behind her, quickly joined by everyone else. 

Rachel kicked the door shut behind them and sprinted all the way to Jekyll’s office.

When they got there she had to put the boys down to open the door. 

They had stopped crying by now but were eerily silent. Both looking down at their feet.

“Don’t listen to Frankenstein, both of you. That old hag's hated Dr. Jay since she got here for no reason at all! She isn’t even a real doctor!” she huffed.

Her voice hammered through the silence in a way that almost made her regret speaking at all. But the boys didn’t so much as flinch.

Creasing her eyebrows in worry, Rachel led them to the side room she knew Jekyll usually slept in instead of his own house. She's not sure exactly how old they are right now but they were definitely young enough to need a nap after all that.

As the boys walked past her she snatched Edward up into a hug and <em>squeezed</em>.

He startled, kicking his legs around. “Hey! Stop doing that!”

“Goodness sakes you two! Do you have any idea how worried I was when you ran off? I have half a mind to lecture you for leaving like that! But…”  now wasn’t a good time to scold them, “ I’ll let it slide if you chickadees lay down without a fuss.” she promised, nodding to the bedroom.

Henry looked around the room, there wasn’t much to see. More red curtains blocking out the light, a single bed pushed up against the wall, and a rather large wardrobe. Like the office, there were a lot of books, either on shelves or just the floor. There were many frames on the walls but it was too dark to make out many details.

They didn’t have shoes to remove so Rachel set Edward down on the bed, Henry hopping up next to him.

Sniffing, the two nuzzled into the pillows quietly as Rachel tucked the blankets in around them. 

Rachel is leaning against the doorway between Jekyll’s office and room when she hears the doorknob rattle.

She startles a bit, instinctively reaching for the kitchen knife in her pocket. <em>I swear to god if that wretch hobbled all the way here just to-</em>

The office door swings open to reveal Lanyon.

He blinks when he sees her, but doesn’t look too surprised. Mostly he just looks tired.

Behind him was Ito, who followed him into the room silently. She nodded at Rachel in acknowledgement, who nodded back.

Rachel peeked into the room, still asleep.

She pushed off the doorframe and with a final glance back, gently closed the door.

Lanyon sighed, stopping at Jekyll’s desk.“I talked to the lodgers, they're not to tell anyone outside of the society about this. Ms. Ito has volunteered to take a look at whatever potion they drank.”

Ito, who had been drawn by the shouting, had been given a rundown by the other lodgers. And, unamused at the grown adults all talking over each other, waited politely til Lanyon was done to offer her services.

“Dr.Jekyll taught me everything I know, if anyone can figure out what went wrong it would be me.” she stated.

“Alright, we think this is the potion they took.” Robert grabbed the glass container lying on the desk to hand to Ito, “It was the only one out of place when we came in, though neither of us actually saw them drink it.”

She nodded, taking the glass and holding it to the light.

There was very little liquid left. It looked to be a dull brown at first but when she tilted in one way and the other there was an oily red and green residue around the edges.

She sniffed at the potion, the smell alone almost made her gag. An unholy mix of so much salt she could smell it and residual fumes that made her head spin. Frankly she's surprised the two men managed to swallow this at all. Though with the things she’s seen Hyde eat maybe she shouldn’t be.

Ito sighed, “This just doesn’t make any sense, Dr. Jekyll would have measured out exact amounts, and certainly taken it one at a time if they were testing something new. Unless it had a delayed reaction.”

“What if it wasn’t something new?” Rachel suggested, “What if they did this a lot and were more casual with it?”

“Maybe, but what would they be so casual with? Do they take the same medication?”

“Mm, not that I know of. Maybe not medicine then? I know Edward drinks random potions sometimes for the hell of it.” she laughed quietly, “One time he vomited some sort of green goo in my sink and ran all the way to Jekyll's office.”

“Not to mention we practically have to force Henry to take medicine when he <em>is</em> sick.” Robert offered. The only thing he knew of Jekyll self-medicating with was wine, and it didn't typically de-age people by almost thirty years.

Ito poked around the desk in silence. She knew Dr. Jekyll was usually a dedicated note-taker, but again, if this was something he did often there would be no reason to.

Frustratingly, the habit of putting ingredients away after herself that the doctor tried so hard to drill into her was working against them now.

Usually it meant that volatile materials weren't lying around waiting to be knocked over and cause messes, or even small explosions. But in this case it meant she had no idea what ingredients were used in this experiment.

Dammit. She sighed and turned to Rachel and Lanyon.

“Alright, so basically I have no clue what this was originally supposed to do, much less how it went wrong, much less how to reverse it. 

I can take a closer look at this with some equipment but this isn’t a lot to work with.”

The two looked at her in shock, like she’d grown another head.

Robert bit his lip, tiredness quickly replaced with nervous energy.

“Can’t you just, give them a potion that makes them older?” he asked.

Ito made a face. “I…don’t think that would be a good idea. If we forced them to grow up they still wouldn't have any of their old memories, they'd just be adult-shaped children. And that's <em>if</em> something like that would work and not mix negatively with whatever they've taken. For all we know this could be a temporary side effect, and changing anything would mess everything up.”

“So they just, won’t remember us? Everything we’ve done together, everything we’ve talked about, all the time we spent together is just gone?” Rachel cried, “There's nothing we can do to get them back?”

Robert clenched his fists on the desk.

Ito sighed, “I know this isn’t what you want to hear but I think the best thing to do is just try to wait this out.”

She refused to say something so terrible out loud, but there might not be a solution to this.

Lanyon’s expression is blank with shock, then twists into anger.

“Well are we just supposed to wait forever?! Wait for them to grow up naturally? What about our friends? Our- our-!”

Ito clenched her jaw, “They’re my friends too.” she snapped.

“Look, there’s not much I can do with the information we have, Dr. Lanyon.

Even if I knew what went wrong and how to reverse this we'd need a ton of body parts. One of the most basic rules of alchemy is that mass can't be made or destroyed and I’m not even sure where it went when they shrank!” she said, throwing her hands up.

The neo alchemist took what remained of the potion and walked out of the room, leaving the two leaning over the desk in despair.

“I'll keep working on it but please, don’t get your hopes up.”

She closed the office door behind her to give them some privacy.

[fridayyy-13th]

i am feeling So Many Things at the moment but mostly i just feel like a disaster

[generationa1trauma]

flatmate has a girl over i am suddenly extremely uncomfortable

[fingertipsmp3]

Would it be stupid of me to request time off on the day after the Eurovision final

[vampiremourning]

i think it’s time for another social break.

[movedtodykedvonte]

*Spidey and the Sinister Six having their usual fight*

Doc Ock, landing a hit: You’re getting slow Spider-Man! Age finally catching up to you?

Spider-Man: You wish! I haven’t even hit my 30s! From those costumes I can already tell I failed to save you guys from those midlife crises! Sorry by the way.

Vulture: Watch it wallcr- wait… Did you just say your not in your thirties yet?

Spider-Man: Surprised that this spiders so young and spry? Well-

Electro: Dude I’ve been fighting you for at least 5 fucking years! How old even are you?

Shocker, joking cause he’s the only one who picked up no grown adult acts likes Spidey: Don’t swear in-front of the boy you don’t want him to pick it up.

Rhino: Christ! You’re tellin me I almost crushed some 12-year-olds skull all those years ago?

Spider-Man, regretting his quipping: I was not that young! Like just starting freshman year but-

Sandman, horrified as he’s the only one with a kid and dad instincts(as of my iteration): I could’ve killed a kid…

Shocker, genuinely curious: Are you even old enough to drink? Cruel to kill a man who ain’t had his first drink yet.

Electro: Please tell us you’re at least over 25 as of this fight. Hell, I’ll take over 21!

Spider-Man:….

Sandman, realizing just how young he really is: Oh my god.

Spider-Man: My birthday’s coming up soon so I guess it counts?

Doc Ock, exacerbated: It. Does. Not!

Vulture: What would your mother think if she knew her son was out here risking his life telling poorly constructed jokes?

Spider-Man, offended cause it quips slap: 1. My jokes are great 2. She and my dad are dead so-

Sandman, hysterical cause holy shit he almost killed a kid orphan: OH MY GOD!

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[felixknow]

Hannie's 🍒 fixation

Han/f!reader, friends who do something sexual...by accident...? nah, Han is a boob guy and wants to put his mouth to good use

ADULTS ONLY, MDNI, I don't want teenagers reading my NSFW posts

Since meeting Han, your friendship has been touchy-feely.

Maybe it’s because you’re both introverts who like quality time rather than chatting. Maybe it’s because your love languages are both physical touch.

Either way, a night in at your place watching anime is completely normal. Laying side by side in your bed, both scrolling on your phones, not even paying attention to the plot of the show you’ve both seen a dozen times.

No one has spoken in, like, an hour but it’s honestly so nice you don’t even care.

Han giggles and lays his phone against his chest, covering his bare face as it turns red.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, nudging him.

“Ahhhh, I need this,” he says, turning his phone toward you. It’s a picture of a blonde girl wearing a crop top that reads "Had a bad day? You can play with my boobs."

"This would make literally everything better," he chuckles, looking at you expectantly-- in his head he’s waiting for a giggle or a funny reaction, not for what you actually say.

"Good thing I have a perfectly good pair of tits right here," you blurt without thinking.

"Really?!" he asks excitedly, dropping his phone as he rotates toward you, now laying on his side facing you instead of on his back. His eyes are so bright and excited, and his hand is already sliding up your torso-- how could you say no?

"Yeah," you say softly, shrugging. "I don't mind. We're friends,” you add on, becoming less sure as you talk. “I trust you."

"This is the best day of my life," he says as one of his hands cups one of your breasts and squeezes gently. "Oh-- is this your nipple?" he asks, walking his fingers back a couple of inches until two press down over your half-hard bud.

"Yes," you confirm, laughing softly. Your face warms up, all the way down your chest. You hope he doesn’t notice given that his eyes are so entranced on your chest.

"It's so cute," he coos, pressing your shirt down flat so your nipple pokes against it. Before you can formulate a thought, he's reaching over to your other boob, squeezing and feeling carefully until he finds your other nipple. It perks up in interest as he touches it, and your breath hitches in your throat when he starts very purposefully flicking his finger back and forth, trying to perk it up. 

"Aw, come on," he mumbles to himself. "It was hard and then it got soft again."

Probably because I'm starting to get flustered and trying to be calm, you think but don't tell him.

He pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers and rolls harshly, sending a very intense and quick shock through you. You bite your lip to stop a noise from escaping. Your heart rate is increasing and your skin is becoming much more sensitive to his touch. And he smells so good…

I'm so pathetic. He's barely been touching me a minute and it's making me horny.

"Ahh, there we go," he says happily now that your nipple is distinct through your t-shirt. You watch as a thought crosses his mind, making his eyebrows furrow slightly as his bottom lip pouts. 

Then he leans down, swiftly sucking your nipple through your shirt.

"Ahhhh," you moan, finally unable to hold it in. You grab fistfuls of your blankets in an effort to keep your hands to yourself. Somehow touching him, even just playing with his hair, would make this far more real than it already is.

"I was wondering when you'd make noise," he says, looking up at you with the most innocent eyes. Then he goes back, sucking you through your shirt while he gets his other hand up and onto your other tit as he turns and half lays on you, working his way until his legs and hips are between your thighs.

He kneads and squishes one boob while sucking the other nipple. Half of this is what you expected him to do-- maybe touch and hold your boobs for a minute or so and then laugh it off. You didn’t expect this. Not him soaking a wet patch through the front of your shirt.

Not one of his hands sneaking under your blanket to find the bottom hem.

Not him yanking your shirt up to your collarbones, breathing a soft "wow" while his sparkly eyes take in the sight of your naked chest.

"Hannie," you say with an unsure tone, but he either doesn't hear you or ignores it. Instead he leans in once more and kisses your nipple. He drags his soft lips against your bare skin and breathes in the smell of you. You're so warm against his cheek and he feels completely lost in the selfish pleasure of playing with you.

“Does it feel good?” he asks, twisting both of your nipples between his fingers. He pouts as he waits for your response, clearly wanting you to say yes.

You nod shyly and pull the collar of your shirt up to hide the bottom part of your face.

He beams up at you, then laughs and pulls your shirt back down.

“Hey, don’t hide from me. I want to see you.” He licks a circle around your burningly sensitive nipple. “And hear you,” he adds, sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You moan softly, cautiously reaching one hand up to rest on his back. He hums and flicks his tongue then releases your nipple with a pop.

“This really is the best,” he says, giving your other nipple equal treatment. He once again lets go with a dramatic pop.

“This is my favorite thing we’ve ever done.”

He switches back again but goes faster, sucks harder, making himself out of breath as he ravenously indulges in your chest.

“Fuck, your tits are so hot, baby.”

“Mmm,” you whine softly, turning your head away and covering your face slightly.

“Hey, I said don’t hide. What, you don’t think your tits are hot or something?”

“They’re not. They’re big but they sag. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s fucking hot,” he insists, crawling a little higher so he can see you better. You can’t help but to gasp when you feel his hard-on slide against your crotch. “Do you know how many guys like big tits? I don’t care if they’re hanging down to your fucking stomach.” He smirks. “They’re easier to get in my mouth that way.”

“Oh my god, Hannie,” you laugh, playfully pushing on his cheek to move his head away from you.

“I’m so serious,” he says, though he laughs. “I can’t believe you’re letting me play with them. I’m on cloud nine.”

“I can kind of tell,” you say softly, shifting just enough so he feels the movement against his crotch and knows you’ve noticed his boner.

“Oh yeah,” he says, face blushing even deeper than yours. “You know what would be even better than playing with your tits?”

“What?”

“Eating you out.”

masterlist | Click here for part 2

[yamujiburo]

Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs. 

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

[ragingbookdragon]

It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

[as-rare-as-trees]

My fatal flaw is that if my friends jumped off a bridge I'd do it too