#stop waiting for others to make the things you wanna see and MAKE THEM

[anlxcqrd]

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄

sypnosis: the strongest lets you wear his blindfold and things escalated very quickly.

contains: friends to lovers? p in v, oral sex, etc.

pairings: gojo satoru/reader

warnings: mdni nsfw ahead!

a/n: took a break and now im here. sorry if it sucks cause i didn't proofread it cause im still busy :(

"Like who puts milk first? Some people are just a bunch of psychos!" He clasps both sides of his head in a dramatic way as he ranted.

"Uh huh"

"Don't give me that 'oh it's to prevent my cereal from getting soggy' shit. I can't understand them Y/N!" He whined and you put your mug down on the coffee table where his long legs where resting.

"You know what I don't understand?" You look at him and he tilts his head to the side as if to say 'what'. "How you can see through your blindfold. I get that you have the six eyes but i dont get how the seeing through shits works. Can you also see other objects?" You look at him as if he was a flat earther and he only laughs.

"That's cause im cool." He arrogantly brushed his hair back. "And only cool people can do this!" You roll your eyes knowing you're not getting a proper answer from him.

"Wanna try wearing it?" He asks you and you immediately shake your head. "No! You're gonna tire yourself out and I was just-" he cuts you off. "Look, I might say that a lot but trust me I'm not that weak and its only for fun! Its not like you're going to burn it or something."

His long fingers then trail to the top of his blindfold and pulled it down slowly. There you can see his mesmerizing azure eyes staring down at you. "Here." He hands you his blindfold.

You reluctantly take it from him and you slide it on. As expected, you can't see anything. Just right before you can take it off, a pair of lips meet yours, capturing you in a tender yet deep kiss.

"Mmh!" You push him away and took off the blindfold. You see him looking at you with a flushed face. "Y/N I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me I just-" you kiss him cutting off whatever he said. His eyes widen and immediately kisses you back.

And thats how you end up face down ass up taking in the meanest backshots you've ever received. "Fuck!" He spanked your ass hard making you squirm. His huge hands gripped your hips hard to keep you in place.

The way he was pistoning into you made you tear up from how it good it felt. You wish you can see him through the blindfold that was preventing you from seeing.

"Satoruuu" you whine as he rubbed tight circles on your clit making your legs tremble. His tip was kissing your g-spot trying his best not to hit your cervix and cause any discomfort. "Y/N" he whimpered your name, he feels like his hips had a mind of its own, moving on its own like it was a hungry beast.

As the teacher's lounge was filled with sounds of your hips hitting each other along with your moans and whimpers. He flips you on your back and kisses you again. This abyss is something you never want to escape. Your souls were colliding, fading into each other as you made love with passion.

"I'm cummin' ngh can i cum in you? Please let me cum in you." He begged desperate to release himself inside your gummy walls.

"yes please cum in me. Fill me up satoru." You nod vigorously, drunk in his touch and love. He kneaded your breasts, pulling and pinching them as he picks his pace up desperate to cum.

"Ah-yes fuck yes!" He groaned feeling his balls tighten as they hit your ass. "Don't stop, please! Fuck right there yes!!" Your eyes roll back behind the fabric as you fill his warm cum fill you up.

His trembling hands sloppily takes off the blindfold, giving you access to see again. He groped your breast and sucked the other one as he grinds into you again.

You kiss him before moving down to his still-hard cock. You kiss his tip and pre cum leaked out of him. As you start sucking him off he licks a long stripe on your cunt making you gasp and almost lose your balance. "Ah! Satoru wait- ngh!" He only pushes your head further down and fucks your mouth.

after what felt like an eternity you both reached your limits and is now cuddled up on the couch. You kiss his cheek and he holds you closer.

The silence went on for a long time until you hear the door open.

Oh shit.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛

⟢ james potter x reader (who is skilled at gift wrapping) ⟢ you and james wrap christmas gifts for your kids last minute ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: no warnings? lmk if i missed anything

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The crisp rustle of wrapping paper tears through the air as you unravel a sheet long enough for a rather larger box. 

You and your husband, decked in matching holiday pajamas, are sitting on the dark hardwood floor of your bedroom. Surrounding you are various presents that you’re working tirelessly to wrap late this Christmas Eve. 

“Why do we do this every year? Scratch that— why do I let you convince me to do this every year?” you suddenly ask when you get a glimpse of the clock on your nightstand. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asks on an exhale of airy laughter. 

“Oh, nothing,” you hum as you measure out how much paper you’ll need. “Just trying to figure out how I let myself marry a chronic procrastinator. And how I let him be such a bad influence on me.”

James falters, dropping the flaps of snowflake-decorated paper he was about to tape down. 

“A chronic procrastinator? A bad influence!?”

You press your lips together to hold back a smile. “Keep wrapping. It’s almost three in the morning,” you say as your scissors satisfyingly glide through the wrapping paper. 

“No,” James protests, pushing the gift away from him and crossing his arms petulantly. “Not until we address your little comment.”

“See, you’re procrastinating right now by trying to start a debate about whether or not you have a problem,” you tease, your lips involuntarily turning up at the corners.

“It sounds like you want to finish the wrapping by yourself,” he jokes, but you both know he’d never leave you hanging. 

“Oh, come on,” you laugh. “If we had it my way the presents would have been wrapped ages ago. They would’ve been wrapped the moment we brought them home.”

“Why would we wrap one present at a time when we could wait and wrap them all at once?” 

“Only a chronic procrastinator would ask why we should get ahead on our tasks.”

James knows you’ve got him there, so all he can do is huff. “Stop saying procrastinate it doesn’t sound like a word anymore.”

“Alright, slacker,” you say through a grin.

James rolls his eyes dramatically as he repositions himself from sitting up to lying on his side. “I’m not a slacker,” he says, propping his head up on his elbow, “I just want to be efficient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as James denies his tendency for putting off his tasks as he gets comfortable in front of a half-wrapped present. 

“Yeah, real efficient,” you say as you carefully fold the paper at the corners, creating perfect trapezoids on the sides of the box, which you tape down with a small square of sellotape. 

He takes notice of the look you gave him, and provides an excuse. “I’m just taking a break.” 

“This is the definition of slacking, by the way. C’mon we’re going to be dead tired tomorrow.”

“We’ll be fine, it’s only 3 a.m.,” James says as if it’s barely midnight. Regardless, he pushes himself back into a seated position and finishes taping down the paper over the box that holds a new toy truck for you son.

“Last Christmas the kids were jumping in our beds by seven,” you say, very matter-of-factly. 

“If they’re awake that early I’ll corral them to the kitchen and make a big breakfast with them to give you an extra hour,” he promises as he reaches for a new roll of wrapping paper— a dark green one with cartoon reindeers printed all over.

“You need sleep too.”

James shrugs. “Well, it was my fault we procrastinated wrapping these anyway.”

“Oh? So you admit it now?”

“What can I say? Is it so bad that after we put the kids down and I was all alone with my beautiful wife I’d rather cuddle or catch up on our shows or… other things.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Other things?” you snort. 

“Yeah. Wanna do them right now?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“James!” you scold him as a blush heats your face. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll focus.” He reaches for the slowly dwindling pile of presents and picks one that looks easy to wrap. You both prefer to leave the more complicated ones to you, as you always seem to have some unique way to wrap the strangest shapes. 

“Not that one!” you stop him. “That one’s from Santa, you have to use the shiny red paper and the golden bows.” 

“What? I picked this one,” he says, turning over the box of a new doll for your daughter. “I don’t want to give Santa all the credit!” James pouts. 

“And you’ll get it. In about ten years, give or take, when we tell them it was all a lie in the name of Christmas spirit.” 

James laughs and takes a look at the clock that reads 3:16 a.m. Santa can have this one, James decides. Even if he did continue to protest, you would probably convince him in the end. 

For the next twenty minutes, you two get lost in the rhythm of wrapping. With James handling the simple boxes, and you expertly finishing the oddly shaped ones, folding the paper in ways that obscure the gift’s silhouette while adding an elegant touch. 

You know your kids won’t give the wrapping a second thought, and it will all end up torn into bits on the floor, but you just love the way they all look under the tree. So perfectly arranged and beautifully wrapped, it makes Christmas feel all the more special.

As you straighten out a bow made from hand curled ribbons on the top of a dollhouse, pre-assembled for play tomorrow morning, James hisses and drops the paper he’s working with. You look up at him as he brings his finger up to his lips.

“Ow, ow!” 

“Y’alright?” you ask. 

“I’ve been injured! Wounded! No one told me how hazardous gift wrapping would be!” he wails dramatically, cradling his right hand with his left. 

You laugh at the sight of him, gathering that he has probably gotten a paper cut. Shuffling over to him on your knees, you outstretch your hand. “Let me see.”

He puts his hand in yours and you turn it over to inspect his pointer finger. It takes you half a minute to find the small slice in the top layer of skin. It’s nearly impossible to see, and you’re sure the pain has subsided now. Still, you bring his hand to your lips and press a soft kiss over the small cut. 

“Better?” you mumble against his skin. 

“Almost. I think I have another injury right here.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes to find him tapping his lips, puckered and awaiting a kiss. 

You shake your head at his antics but oblige him anyway and connect your lips in a gentle kiss. James’ right hand snakes out of your grip so he can wrap it around your waist to hold you into the kiss for a little longer. 

“Come on,” you say as you begin to pull away, “we only have a few more presents between us and those fresh homemade cookies laying out for Santa.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[gilverrwrites]

Jason and Roy separately after they keep teasing you and you just end up disengaging and dealing with it yourself with your hitachi and calling it a night. They got a lil too confident with the orgasm denial and forgot that their competition is Mr. Bunny massager/Mrs. Rose toy, who gives out orgasms for free with little to no begging or pleading or promises to be a good girl/boy required. Their window of opportunity to make you nut has closed and they're stuck waiting for the 1-3 business days for you to be in the mood/horny again if they wanna touch you again and they better bring their A game or they might just become 2nd fiddle to a bad dragon toy. (This might just be me but I'm not in a rush to repeat it if I spend all night with a person and dont get my rocks off, id still give head if asked but id need serious convincing to let them touch me again, bc it's not hot they wasted my fucking time, if I want to NOT come I can do that by myself)

On a very real note, teasing, edging, and denial are kinks like any other, and you should be voicing to your partners what kinks you do and don't like in the bed room to keep things fun and healthy. Your partner also shouldn't be in competition with your sex toys unless that's something they're into. If its not working for you, say something, my friend. Don't be afraid to stop your partners and say ‘Hey, this isn't working for me, can we do ‘something else’ instead?’ especially before you jump straight to cutting them out of the activity completely.

There's also nothing wrong with having a low libido anon! You take all the time you need between sex!

That being said, the idea of being pressed into the bed by Jason or Roy while they’re giving it their all and getting real cocky about making you squirm only for you to be like ‘um, no, excuse me. You're taking to long so I'll be doing this myself, thank you’ makes me laugh.

I think for both of them, the initial response would just be shock. Like open-mouth awe at your gall. Can't knock a girl who knows what she wants, and both of them would definitely enjoy watching you get off on your own typically, but the blow of you doing it unexpectedly, especially while they've been enjoying themselves would bruise their egos.

Roy is the type to try and win you back over. He's getting close, gently trying to pry the toy out of your hands and promising he’ll do better, he’ll do whatever you want just give him another chance. Can't you see how hard you've got him? Its painful, baby. You should let him relieve you both together.

Another disclaimer: Blue balls ain't a real thing, don't let Roy Harper convince you otherwise, he's just needy as all hell and will say anything to get you back to bed with him.

Jason would take it a lot harder. When his family piss him off he blows up, but I think he'd worry about scaring you/putting you off so he sulks instead. No, its fine. You do what you've gotta do, no really its totally fine. He’ll just show myself out and you can try again in the approximate 3 business days you need to to get there again, if he's around.

There's also a level of familiarity and intimacy to this. This is how I assume they'd react with someone they have an established romantic/sexual relationship with, in which at least some boundaries have been set. If you're just like, a one-night stand or you're in a causal hook-up scenario they'd probably just be like oh, okay. Guess we’re done for tonight, see ya round, have fun with that. They're not gonna push if it's evident you're not willing to give.

[dc418writes]

|Bump in the Night|

✨Pairing✨: Tim Rockfordxblack!reader

Summary🪄: You can always count on Tim

🚨: attempted break in/breaking and entering, mention of stalking, brief mention of gun(s), language, violence (man-man), ends in fluff tho💕

A/N🎤: hello☺️! This is my submission to @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope event (I’m so sorry that it’s much later than the deadline/expected😓). Everyone please support the other works that were submitted and I hope you enjoy what I came up with🌸

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my works are imagined with a black reader, all are welcome to read💕*

Trope: friends to lovers

Hearing the familiar address come across his police scanner, Tim couldn’t care less about the lawyer that was supposed to be under his surveillance. His silver Honda Civic practically floating over the asphalt as he sped towards the apartment complex.

Specifically, yours.

“No apparent injuries to occupant. No ambulance needed.”

Tim’s grip on the wheel slightly loosens at that. Although he was still stressed not completely knowing what happened yet, at least you were currently safe and unharmed. Minutes later, his car screeches to a stop in the parking lot already occupied by a flashing patrol car.

“Detective Rockford?,” the young officer - he still couldn’t remember his name after all this time - asks slightly startled from seeing the usually stoic and aloof man. “What-?”

“Where is she?” His steps never falter and the younger officer - Davey? Casey? - has to lightly jog to catch up with the detective on a mission.

“She?”

“The victim.”

“Oh! Currently with Daniels as he does a final sweep.”

“Still nothing?,” Tim asks as they both finally arrive on your floor from their ascent up the stairs. He wasn’t surprised to see the elevators out again. There was always something wrong with this place which is why he tried urging you to another complex.

“True it’s not perfect, but it’s not terrible. I’ll be fine Tim,” you assured with that sweet smile that could warm the coldest of hearts.

“Just some shifted furniture, nothing missing yet. We tried dusting for prints, but perp was smart enough to use gloves.”

Walking in to see your nervous expression - lip worried between your teeth as your arms wrapped around yourself - had a storm of emotions swirling he’d never experienced all at once. Relief that he could physically see you were unharmed. Rage at whoever did this. Finally, a sense of protectiveness wanting to make sure this never happened to you again.

By any means.

“T-Tim?,” you asked finally meeting his eyes. Immediately he’s crossing the few feet between you to hug you close. Gently rocking you back and forth as you savor the much needed comfort.

“Let’s uh give them some privacy Kaz,” Daniels whispers. “Kazinski!,” Tim thought as he finally remembered the man’s name. Wow he was way off.

“What happened?”

“Well,” you sigh, “I came home and the door was cracked open. Something didn’t feel right this time though-,”

“Wait, this time? Someone’s done this before?”

You slowly nod. “Well, then again I could’ve accidentally-,”

“We both know you didn’t leave it open. You never leave your door open or unlocked.”

Too many times you were the one reminding him to make sure he’d locked up both his house and car. Always on the go with mind focused on other things, there’s a very strong chance he’d leave his head home if it wasn’t attached to him.

“Why didn’t you call me?,” he asks with deep brown eyes full of concern and slight hurt.

“I didn’t wanna interrupt your case. Plus it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.”

“But you don’t have to do it on your own,” he sighs. Your hyper-independence just might be the death of him. “Grab some clothes and whatever else you need, you’re staying with me.”

“Tim-,”

“If you think I’m leaving you here tonight you don’t know me as well as I thought,” he simply counters sitting in one of your wooden dining room chairs waiting for you to get your things with arms crossed against his chest.

There’s no use in arguing when his mind is set - which tends to be often. All you can do is what he says swiftly turning towards your bedroom and softly padding down the short hall.

-

Phone to his ear, Tim can’t help the smile that forms at your sweet voice. Deep inside he feels like that giddy teenager again excited and in slight disbelief that he finally gets the chance to talk to the prettiest girl in school.

“Hey, just uh wanted to check on you. Make sure you made it in okay.”

“Yep just got the last of the groceries in,” you smile locking the door behind you. “Hey don’t pick up anything to eat! I’m making lasagna.”

This is how it’s been for the past week. Tim checking to see you made it in and how your day had gone before you both discussed your plan for dinner that night.

And he loved the domesticity of it all. Never did he think he’d say that, typically preferring to be alone so he could come and go as he pleased with no one constantly in his ear. But there was something about coming home to warm meals and music softly playing in the background that had an unexpected calm rushing over him.

Then again, maybe all those new things he was feeling - now wanting every day and wondering how he thought life was better without it - was from you.

“Sounds great, I’m gonna be a bit late getting in though so don’t wait on me to eat.”

“Oh, okay.” Your disappointed tone has him ready to quit if it’ll make you happy again. “I take it there’s good news on the case?”

“Yea and new evidence that potentially puts us closer to solving this.”

“And freeing-?”

“That I can’t discuss. You and I both know,” he softly chuckles. At your little huff he can already picture you rolling those dangerously perfect eyes.

“Okay,” you pout, “I guess I’ll see you later then. Be careful.”

“I will. I’ll try not to be too long.”

Saying your final goodbyes, he’s embarrassingly greeted by the smirk of officer Daniels while he leans against the doorframe of his office.

“Soo the infamous friend..,” he states with a knowing grin.

“Don’t.”

“Can’t blame you, she’s really sweet. Not to mention beautiful-,”

The mix of annoyance and anger on Tim’s face is enough to stop Daniels in his tracks making him deeply chuckle with hands up in defeat. “Relax, I come in peace.”

“Wishing you didn’t at all,” Tim mumbles causing more chuckles from the man in front of him.

“Don’t think you’ll say that after you see this.” Gently placing the folder on his desk, Tim’s brow raises as he curiously flips open the gray cover. “Pretty sure this is our guy.”

-

You think you’re still dreaming when you hear that first click. Another - followed by a scrape against the hardwood - has your eyes quickly opening trying to register what was happening. You can faintly make out the bedroom thanks to the sliver of yellow-gold coming from the hall light as you slowly sit up. Not finding Tim asleep in his usual recliner in the corner of the room, you wonder if it’s him finally returning home.

“Tim?!”

The heavy footsteps - seemingly pacing back and forth - pause, and you feel an uneasiness creep over you at the momentary silence. A shadow of something to come you couldn’t quite place.

As the footsteps grow closer, that unease sets off alarms at the realization that those steps were heavier than Tim’s. He doesn’t wear boots…

It’s as if the intruder senses they’re caught in that same moment increasing their speed towards your bedroom. Luckily you bound from the bed locking the door mere seconds before they reach the knob furiously twisting and banging against the door trying to enter.

Amid the pounding in your chest and ears, you’re focused enough to lock yourself in the adjoining restroom and lie in the tub with trembling hands covering your mouth. Tears slowly slipping down your cheeks while wishing for the darkness to take you before the stranger can.

On the third hard thud, the room door breaks from its hinges startling you and sending screws scattering to the floor - and no doubt chips of wood.

“I know you’re in here. Might as well come out now, it’s only a matter of time before I find you.”

That familiar voice sends goosebumps down your body and bile stinging your throat.

His laugh isn’t a humorous one stepping across the threshold. Wood creaking and cracking under his weight. “I don’t know why you’re making me do this. Things could be so much easier if you’d just…listen.”

The echo of your vibrating phone carries into the bathroom making more tears spring from your eyes. Tim would be home any moment coming face to face with this man who wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. Possibly unarmed not expecting danger in what was supposed to be his safe haven.

A danger you ultimately caused.

If something happened to Tim-

“You run to him, but he’s not even here for you! Huh, some protector.”

If you weren’t so terrified, you’d easily be ready to defend your friend. Fight for him just as he’s always fought for you.

Hearing the bed squeak, you know he’s probably leaning on it to lift the cover’s edge and peek in the space under. Not finding you there, you figure there’s only seconds before he’s barging into your hiding place and doing God knows what.

“Guess you won’t believe me until you see for yourself though.” His tone hushes to just above a whisper taking a step closer. Then another, and you’re surprised he hasn’t said anything about your heartbeat how it surely could be heard thudding in your chest. “Fine with me doll.”

Flashes of what that could mean enter your mind only making you sob harder. A sheen of sweat breaking along your body anxiously waiting on that fearful moment the life you once knew would be over.

Rather than the cracking of another broken door, you’re met with Tim’s gruff voice yelling for the intruder to freeze and allowing you to finally breathe. His trusty black handgun drawn and trained on his target daring the stranger to move. “It’s over Kane. Down on your knees with hands on your head.”

Surprisingly he follows Tim’s instructions, slowly kneeling down on one knee then the other. Once his hands are in the right position, handcuffs are being tightened around his wrist and a solid blow sent to his ribs causing Kane to painfully grunt as he keels over.

“That’s assault!”

This time his cheek receives the punch immediately reddening the tan skin under his left eye - and Tim’s knuckles in the process. “Where is she?!”

Kane just darkly chuckles. “You tell me. Aren’t you the detective?” His smug jokes are no more feeling cold metal against his temple. A quick click signaling how the weapon was ready to fire at any moment Tim chose.

“Last fucking chance! Tell me-,”

He hears your cries the same moment Daniels and Kazinski rush into the bedroom with guns drawn themselves. Immediately they take over, hoisting the slightly battered man to his feet and reading him his rights, while Tim hurries to retrieve you. His heart breaking the moment he sees you visibly shaken in the tub with tears staining your face.

“I’m here honey it’s okay,” he attempts to soothe quickly gathering you in his arms. Your face instinctively buries itself in his neck finding comfort in the scratch of his beard and smell of tobacco mixed with sandalwood and his earlier cups of coffee. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

It’s a few moments before you can find your voice again; even then it prickles climbing your throat and escapes in a hoarse whisper. “H-How did you know?”

“Your coworker told us about him. How he was banned because he came to the job every day bothering you. Daniels looked into him and we found…”

The way his Adams Apple bobs you can tell he’s struggling for his next words. Probably trying to soften a blow that would surely worsen your already destroyed mental and emotional state.

He clears his throat rubbing a soothing hand up and down your arm. “There was enough evidence that led us to believe he’d try something. We rushed here as soon as we could.”

Just when you thought your heart had been through enough. You could read between the lines and knew what Tim meant by evidence, and it made that queasy, unsettled feeling return. Kane found the somewhat secluded house of your best friend, who’s to say another of your friends wasn’t next? Your family even.

Hot tears - summoned from some unknown hidden reserve - begin to soak his shoulder as he slowly rocks you back and forth. Tim’s thick arms holding your shaking body tighter. Little did you know it was as much for him as you.

“He-He’s n-never gonna stop…is he?,” you direct more so to the open air. “Everyone I know-,”

“Hey hey listen to me,” Tim gently starts. His hands slightly pushing you away before moving to caress your face so you’d have no choice but to meet his sympathetic and caring eyes. “We got him. He can’t, and won’t, do anything to you or anybody else.”

“But-,”

“Even if - and it’s a very very small if - he tried something, I love you too much to let something happen.”

Maybe it was the overwhelm of emotions from such an eventful night. Maybe it was how Tim cradled your face - practically dwarfed by his larger hands - looking at you as if you were his most prized possession given by some high deity themselves. And maybe it was your hidden feelings finding a hopeful hook to latch onto that he felt the same about you. Either way, you couldn’t stop your lips from meeting his; moving so smoothly together it’s as if you’ve done this plenty of times.

Just pulling back an inch, Tim’s quick to follow smashing your lips together again as if he was addicted already. Inwardly, it makes you giggle. Feeling fuzzy and light as if dancing on the brightest sun ray on a spring day.

“We’re gonna take him downtow- oh..”

Forgetting where you were, Daniel’s voice is a startling reminder as you quickly part turning your heated face away from the bathroom’s entrance. Meanwhile, Mr. Rockford appears dazed attempting to act anything but trying to focus on his co-worker who just said..something important? “Um…y-yea Kane! We gotta-,”

“It’s taken care of Rockford,” Daniel’s answers professionally hiding his chuckles in his rock solid chest. Wait till he gets home to tell his wife this tea. Hell, he’ll have to text her on the way this was too good. “You uh take care of things here. I’ll keep you updated. Have a good night guys.”

And just as he said, Tim’s kept to his word almost a year later. Lying in your now shared bed with you perfectly molded to his side - your new home just outside of town in the relaxing countryside - he presses a loving peck to your forehead careful not to disturb your pleasant sleep. Watching you go so long without, it gives him a new layer of joy that Kane could no longer steal that from you. Your arm slung over his middle, his chest swells looking at the square cut diamond shining on your finger just waiting for you to wake up and notice it. To say yes to the question he’s been hoping you’d give him the chance to ask for some time now.

And down the line, maybe even build your little family giving you both a reason to decorate and fill the empty room across the hall.

[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.

[kathlare]

taking the leap

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: After an exhilarating race at the Australian Grand Prix, Lando is on a high from finishing on the podium. His friends start to tease him about the constant smile on his face and his unusual phone habits. In a moment of vulnerability, Lando admits that he and Amelie have been secretly dating since November. Lando realizes that his personal happiness, both in love and with his friends, is what truly makes this moment memorable.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

March 23rd, 2024 - Melbourne, Australia

The roar of the crowd was still fresh in Lando’s ears as he stepped off the podium, his heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline. The Australian Grand Prix had been everything he’d hoped for and more—a beautiful battle for P3, finally landing him on the podium after an agonizing stretch to start the 2024 season. As the champagne sprayed, he shared the moment with Carlos, who took the victory, and Charles, who stood proud beside him in second.

Back in the paddock, Lando was buzzing, the excitement from the race still keeping him on cloud nine. But there was one thing that had his smile a little wider than usual, one thing that his friends, if they noticed, weren’t going to let him live down.

As he made his way back to the driver’s lounge, Alex, George, and Charles were already there, laughing and talking about the race. Lando plopped down onto the couch next to Charles, his phone still clutched in his hand. His grin couldn’t be wiped off his face, no matter how hard he tried.

—You’re seriously gonna be like this all day, aren’t you?— Alex said, glancing over at him with a knowing smile.

Lando chuckled, slipping the phone back into his pocket. —What can I say? It’s been a good race. I’m happy.—

George leaned over, raising an eyebrow. —Yeah, we can see that. You’ve been glued to your phone all race weekend. What’s going on, mate? Someone finally texting you back?—

Lando rolled his eyes, his grin widening. —You’re all so nosy.—

—Come on, we’re just curious, mate.— Charles chimed in, leaning forward with a playful glint in his eye. —Who’s got our boy smiling like that? I think we all deserve to know, considering it’s not the usual, mysterious “Instagram scrolling” face you make.—

—It’s not Instagram scrolling!— Lando protested, though his grin didn’t fade. —It’s... a friend, alright? Just a friend.—

—Yeah, right, just a friend.— George chuckled. —I’ve never seen you look at your phone that much unless it’s something... or someone special.—

Lando tried to suppress another smile, but it was no use. —It’s not what you think.—

Alex leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. —Oh, now you’ve definitely got us intrigued. Who is this ‘friend’ that’s got you grinning like a Cheshire cat?—

Lando’s gaze flickered between his friends, unsure whether to let them in on the secret. He’d been keeping things between him and Amelie quiet for a while now. They’d had their reasons, not wanting to make a spectacle of things. But after months of careful whispers, his patience was wearing thin.

—Alright, fine.— Lando finally relented, his shoulders sagging in defeat. —You wanna know? It’s Amelie.—

The room went quiet for a beat.

—Wait, what?— George blinked, clearly not sure if he’d heard right.

—Amelie? As in, Checo's Amelie?— Charles asked, his voice rising in disbelief.

Lando nodded, his smile softening. —Yeah, that Amelie. We’ve been... seeing each other for a while now.—

Alex’s face lit up, a grin spreading across his face. —No way! You two? That’s huge— he laughed, looking at George and Charles, both of whom were still processing the news.

—Hold up, hold up.— George raised a hand, his eyes narrowing in on Lando. —So you’re telling us... you’ve been texting her non-stop this whole time because... you two are together? For real?—

Lando’s grin became a little sheepish. —Yeah. We’ve been dating since November. Just... kept it low key.—

—That’s insane.— Charles shook his head, still not quite believing it. —You two were always so flirty, but I thought it was just... you know, part of the whole ‘we’re good friends’ act.—

—That’s the thing.— Lando leaned back, stretching his legs out. —We were friends first. But after... well, after everything that happened in the past, we kind of just picked things back up. It’s... it’s real now.—

—Real now?— George repeated, his voice laced with mock seriousness. —Mate, when did this start? Like, you two are actually an item? That’s mental. Are you seriously telling me Checo knows about this?—

Lando froze. His stomach twisted slightly at the mention of Checo. —Yeah, Checo knows. He was one of the first ones, actually.—

Alex raised an eyebrow. —Checo knows, and he’s not going to kill you for it? That’s... surprising.—

Lando laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. —Well, to be fair, it was a bit awkward at first. He’s protective of her, you know? He basically raised her. But we’ve talked it through, and he’s supporting us now. Though... I think he still thinks I’m an idiot most of the time.—

—Well, it is Checo.— George smirked. —That guy’s gonna kill you when he realizes you two are more than just texting. I don’t care what he says. You know how he is with his sister-in-law.—

—Yeah, I know.— Lando chuckled, but there was a slight edge of nervousness in his voice. —I think the first time he found out we were actually together, he nearly gave me a heart attack. He... well, he wasn’t exactly thrilled at first. But we worked through it. Slowly. He’s definitely... not as keen on me as Amelie is.—

—You think?— George shot him a knowing look. —Honestly, mate, I would’ve been more worried if Checo was cool with it. The man’s like an older brother to her, so I can imagine the real conversation happened behind closed doors. What’s it like now? You guys get along better?—

Lando shifted uncomfortably, his thoughts turning to the many talks they’d had. He remembered the first time he’d seen Checo after he and Amelie started dating seriously, the intense conversation they’d shared in Bahrain. Checo had not been happy about it at first—understandably so, given how close he was to Amelie—but they had worked through it. Slowly. Still, there were moments when Lando could sense that Checo was silently judging him, always watching to see if he’d mess up. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

—Yeah, well... Checo’s already pretty aware of how much I care about her. He’s been cool about it, but it’s still kind of awkward. I can tell he’s trying to come to terms with it.—

The door to the lounge creaked open, and in walked Checo himself, his eyes immediately landing on Lando, then narrowing slightly in amusement.

—What’s all this?— Checo asked, a grin creeping up on his face as he took a seat near them. —Are you guys finally getting to the point where you’re gonna spill the beans about what Lando’s been so damn happy about?—

Lando froze for a second, a nervous chuckle escaping him. —I think we were just getting there, yeah.—

—Oh really?— Checo raised an eyebrow. —Finally going public with it, are we? About time. I was starting to think you’d keep this thing going in the shadows forever.—

Lando looked at Checo, realizing his tone wasn’t one of anger, but more of teasing. —I mean... we were trying to keep it low-key, you know? Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. But I guess we’re pretty obvious now, huh?—

Checo shrugged, still grinning. —I figured it out a while ago. And honestly, it’s fine. You two look happy. I’m just waiting for you to make me an uncle. That’s the real kicker.—

Lando’s face turned bright red at the comment, and Alex burst out laughing.

—Mate, you’re really gonna start talking about kids now? Checo, slow down, we’re still in the “dating” phase.—

—Hey, it’s not my fault Lando’s the one moving faster than his car on a straightaway.— Checo teased, then turned to Lando with a wink. —But seriously, I’m happy for you, man. Just take care of her, alright? You know how I feel about her. If you hurt her, I’ll break your legs.—

Lando laughed nervously. —I get it. I’m not going anywhere. I’m in this for the long haul, I swear.—

Checo’s grin softened, and he gave Lando a nod. —Good. Just remember, I’m always watching. And don’t think for a second I won’t pull up if I need to give you a little “friendly” reminder.—

Lando raised his hands in mock surrender. —I hear you loud and clear. Promise I’m not messing this up. She’s everything.—

The group settled into a more comfortable silence, the teasing continuing in a more relaxed tone. But as Lando looked around at his friends, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. Not just for his podium, but for the people who supported him—especially Amelie, who was always there, cheering him on in the background, her text message popping up with little words of encouragement. It was the little things that made it all feel real. And no matter how much Checo might tease him, Lando was certain of one thing: he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[canadianlucifer]

i think my current philosophy is to just. make the fandom things you wanna see in the world. you wish more people made certain things? be the person who makes those things

[triglycercule]

What do you think the types of drunk would the murder trio be? Im pretty sure ask dusttale already answered this question about dust but i have to ask the mtt expert

see now askdusttale DID answer the question. but they didn't ANSWER the question when asked what dust is like drunk. they just said that dust is the type to drink himself blackout drunk. so that mean i have total freedom on deciding what the mtt are like drunk hehehe (rubs hands together in a villanous way that you would imagine nightmare doing or something idk)

i already have an absolutely hilarious idea for horror and it might just because i'm on the guilt section of his character analysis but i could TOTALLY imagine him being an emotional drunk. like he CRIES. horror sans man known for being incredibly guarded and private with what he feels bawling his eye out. he gets mad he gets sad he does not get happy because horror doesn't have the right to be happy. he is too upset over the fact that he fucking DOOMED all of horrortale because of his selfishness and nothing can stop him from being incredibly vocal about that fact so much so that killer had to tape his mouth shut because he wouldn't stop crying so loud. and then he just silently cries until he passes out from exhaustion. the alcohol has an incredibly strong effect on him because i dont think he would drink regularly plus he definitely hasnt drinken anything in those 7 years of starvation. it hits like a fucking plane crashing into him. or like getting his eye taken out again. either one!

another funny idea i had for killer would be like the alcohol affecting him but he SWEARS that he's still sober. he is very confused when he starts stumbling because wtf he doesnt FEEL drunk??? why is he bumping into walls and tables HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND FUCKING STUPID???? the alcohol is definitely effecting him but he swears he swears he doesn't feel drunk. hes not drunk its just the damn body doing this stupid bullshit!!!! he's still very aware of what's going on and is basically the same as sober but just like. he's wiggly he's wobbly and oh shit he just fell head face first into a tv whoops. he'd also have a high tolerance because just because. he can drink without feeling like shit until he just blacks out mid conversation with someone because his body couldn't take the toll of all the beer or whatever. hilarious idea triglycercule thank you triglycercule i know

dust in the context that we already know that he drinks AND he can fight against the human while like partially drunk.... i feel it would be kinda like a giggly drunk situation. except dust doesn't laugh at anything that's funny he only laughs when someone gets hurt or something. SADISTIC giggly drunk. because i can already imagine a half drunk dust laughing his ass off after killing the human and its a beautiful sight to me.

anyways imagine how it goes when you pair this sadistic giggly drunk with another that wont stop going through the 5 stages of grief and another that keeps on fucking falling over for no reason in his eyes. dream blunt rotation but the blunt is a bottle of vodka. i can already imagine it in my head and its fucking HILARIOUS. horror going on about how he caused the deaths of others and manipulated and tricked papyrus while killer is just trying his best to keep his eyes open because for some reason they won't stop trying to close. he is surprisingly getting frustated. dust has long since lost his voice laughing at this and he's just silent wheezing at everything. also phantom papyrus is only making the laughter worse because he keeps on making rude comments towards horror and killer and only he can hear him and its guffaw inducing. mtt amazing friend group you dont get shit like this anywhere else

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[therealbeachfox]

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[stunie]

“NEEDIN’ A RIDE REAL, REAL BAD!!”

HAIKYUU + THIGH RIDING ᯓ⭑ ft. bokuto koutarou, daichi sawamura, kuroo tetsurou, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi, & ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

contains : explicit smut (18+), thigh riding / dry humping, phone call (keep quiet n ride!), risky sex / very mild: cw exhibitionism, squirting, teasing, praise, kissing <3, hair pulling (you to them), orgasm denial, usage of pet names — 2.9K WC

note : yayya my first haikyuu post on here ! this is my response to this thirst here ૮꒰˶˃ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა hope u all have fun reading this <3

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Whoa whoa,” Kuroo coos through a breathy chuckle, big hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still against his thigh. “Easy now, pretty thing. Let’s pause for a second, okay?”

The sound of your protests and whines almost make him cave right off the bat. “…Tetsu..” you sulk, corners of your lips curling into a sad pout even when he gives you an apologetic smile before he’s jutting his thumb to gesture at his phone, the irritating melody of his ringtone repeating itself as the screen lights up, “Incoming call from: Kenma!” displayed across the top.

“Sorryy,” he huffs. “Can’t. This one’s important.”

He’s giving you a reassuring squeeze around your hip, a silent reminder that he’ll give you everything you need in a few minutes, but you’re not having any of that. Your arms come to stubbornly wrap around his neck before he can pick up the call, sugar sweet voice already making pleas only a second later.

On any other given day, you would have let him take the call with only an irritated huff— just not today. Not with the way you can already feel your orgasm running away from you. “P-please, please Tetsu,” you sob, “I was so close. Can’t wait any longer.. please?”

His eyes are widening a bit at the unfamiliar desperation in your voice, grunt slipping out when his cock reacts to it too, twitching and slapping against his stomach— a reoccurring habit that seems to only occur whenever you give him that needy little look of yours.

“Awww,” he whispers, and you barely catch the strain in his voice. “Well I’m sorry for ruining your moment, angel.”

You’re practically purring as soon as you feel his hand come to lightly cup your jaw, immediately melting into his touch as he smiles in response. “Ah— fine,” Kuroo caves as soon as he sees your hands coming to cutely hold his wrist in place. “Guess i can’t stop you if you need it so bad. But listen here..”

His thumb moves from your jaw, digit pressing into your bottom lip to angle your face at him. The look you’re giving him is just to die for, pouty lips soft against his thumb and you’re peering up at him through those pleady eyes— as if there was even a single chance that Kuroo would ever deny his pretty girl of an orgasm in the first place.

“Nothing crazy. Deal? Kenma hears and..” he presses a little harder into your lip, watching the way your tongue comes to swipe at the invasive finger. “Me and you? Are never hearing the end of it.”

You’re swiftly nodding as soon as the words register, hands coming to rest on the muscles of his shoulders as you resume your movement the next second, gasping at the way your clit catches against his thigh. “Kenma?” You hear him hum, tucking his phone between his cheek and shoulder— quick and casual.

Maybe too casual.

“Mmm,” his eyes flicker back towards you when you take in a sharp inhale. “So it’s about that. You sure you don’t wanna meet up to go over it?”

A loud gasp slips out from you when he abruptly grabs you by your waist, and your hands slam over your mouth, Kuroo tensing beneath you. “…Hm? Yeah, I’m listening.” He chuckles, regaining his composure in an instant as he starts to rock you back and forth against his leg— and fast.

The roughness has your face contorting, nails digging deep into his shoulders as you try and resist the strong hands guiding you back and forth— try and slow him down a bit, delay your oncoming orgasm by even second if anything at all. You hadn’t expected it to come back so fast, and.. you both knew good and well that you weren’t gonna be able to stay quiet.

You give him a look, something resembling your best attempt at a glare, but he’s ignoring it— casually chatting with kenma about something you can’t quite catch. You’re only left to bite your lip, eyebrows deeply furrowed as you desperately fight the knot tightening inside your belly, thighs clamping against his own as he flexes his quad straight into you.

“Oh,” Kuroo says, hand leaving your waist to pick up his phone again, finger hovering over the ‘mute’ button, and your body is falling limp onto his chest, hands balancing yourself on him as you peer up at him through tired eyes and a heavy pant. “Actually..”

“..Looks like I got a bit of a problem to take care of here first.” He smiles. “So give me a minute, yeah?”

MIYA ATSUMU.

“Gonna have to keep that pretty voice of yours down.” Atsumu’s lips brush against the shell of your ear, big hands tight around your hips as he drags you up and down his thigh. “Or ‘Samu’s gonna hear ya.”

Your hips stutter against his leg, drawing a sharp gasp from you- and he curses under his breath. Osamu would be back any second now, and yet he’s got you seated on him, your lounge shorts pulled to the side so he can draw one quick orgasm out of you before the three of you head out for dinner.

Because you— Atsumu’s impatient lil bunny, or so he calls you, just couldn’t wait until after the dinner to get a quick treat.

“‘M trying.” You whisper, voice breathless and whiny, and you tighten your embrace around his middle, burying your face deep into the fabric of his sweater. “Feels ‘s good… so good— need more..”

“I know, I know— later, yeah?” He sounds unsteady from how roughly he’s moving you against him, muscles of his thigh flexing and hardening underneath you. “Gonna give it to ya real good. stuff ya nice and full. How’s that sound, dirty girl?”

You want that.

You know exactly how easy it’d be for him to get you gushing underneath his cock if it weren’t for your insistence on him not cumming. And well.. it kind of made sense to him— considering how your last creampie went. His mind thinks back to how you looked with his cum dribbling down your thighs as you nervously clamped them together, and how no one seemed to noticed the juices dripping into a neat little puddle beneath you.

It’d be so easy— he’s got you all mapped out and knows you like the back of his hand. He could just push those pretty thighs of yours up to your face, hold them nice and still as he pummels the deep spot inside you that has you chanting his name over and over, and your cunt would be gushing right after that.

“‘Tsumu.” You choke out, tightly latching onto him like a koala, “‘M gonna cum..!”

“You are, aren’t ya? I can tell.” He groans, and his thigh bounces up into you, mumbling a curse under his breath when you squeal at the roughness. “Show me that pretty face when you’re lettin’ go.”

A couple more rolls of your hips and you’re gasping and stuttering against him, Atsumu pulling you just right against his thigh as your eyes slam shut, knot inside you violently snapping in an instant as you tremble underneath him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.” His voice comes out deep and breathy, hands tightening their grip on you. “Ride it all out f’ me, rela- oh s-shit.”

Your eyes widen as soon as the sound of footsteps registers in your mind, and your head swiftly turns back to see that Atsumu’s already pulling your shorts back over your cunt, your juices immediately soaking through the fabric as he holds you flush against his chest, big hand cradling the back of your head.

“‘Tsumu..!” You whisper, but he’s shushing you with gentle strokes along the back of your head.

“What, ‘Samu?” he calls out, his mind putting together a silent prayer that his twin was not about to open the door.

His prayers go unanswered.

“You two ready yet?” Osamu’s asking as soon as he flings open the door, the knob accidentally slipping through his grasp, and your door crashes against your wall with a loud thud a second later.

You faintly hear him mutter an “oops” before his eyes are finally falling on you, brow raising at the sight of you clinging tightly onto atsumu as your chest heaves up and down.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

“What?” you can feel your concentration falter as soon as the sound of Sakusa’s voice reaches you, and you’re immediately wiping at the frustrated tears that have begun to collect along your lashes. “Can’t cum like that?”

You’re quick to shake your head, and he doesn’t miss the slight tremble to your lips. Cute.

Sakusa had his doubts about this idea of yours from the start. He knows how needy you always get— knows that despite that innocent face of yours, your cunt’s anything but. It’s greedy. Something like this was probably not gonna be able to get you to finish, and he knew that.. but a part of him was just curious.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see you this frustrated. Your chest is rising up and down with each angry pant, arm coming to rub at your nose from the occasional sniffle after being denied orgasm after orgasm.

And him? he’s never felt such a strong ache before. The dark spot on his shorts are a tell-tale sign that he’s been leaking with pre-cum, and he can practically feel it starting to drip down his cock. Neither of you were doing so well, and if he was being honest, he’s on the verge of flipping you over and putting you in a mating press— but the small voice inside him wants to see you come undone on his thighs. Badly.

He’s just gotta see how you look.

“Need your cock, Omi.” You mumble, rising onto your knees to scoot further up, but he’s stopping you only a second later. “Omi? Why..?”

“No.” he says flatly. “You don’t.”

“I do!” You’re protesting immediately after, hands balancing on his shoulders. “Can’t finish without it— ah!”

You yelp when he’s roughly pulling you back down, his quad flexing as soon as your cunt makes contact with his leg. The hands around your hips are tight, and Sakusa’s setting a rhythm only a moment later, keeping the muscles of his legs firm and flexed to better rub against your clit.

“W-wait!” You’re stammering, whining straight into his ear as you frantically latch onto him. He lets you bury your face into the crook of his neck as he works you closer to your high, forcing you into a mind-numbing pace to have you flying right off the edge in a few more seconds.

“You can— don’t fight it.” His voice comes out as a deep grunt, a result of his dragged out attempts at ignoring the borderline painful throb of his cock, and oh- he was so going to take you in a mating press after this. The second you’re finished gushing, he was gonna flip you over and finally rid himself this irritating ache.

“Omi!” You sob, eyes clenching shut as your hips start to stutter, and he can feel you trembling underneath his hands. “Omi.. O-omi— ‘m close!” He only responds by roughly pressing his thigh up against you, thick muscle hitting your clit just right as you choke out a scream, finally gushing all over his thighs.

“See?” He exhales, breath hitching in his throat when your nails dig deep into his back, his hands slowly moving you up and down to ride out your high.

“You can.”

DAICHI SAWAMURA.

“Feeling good, huh? Don’t try to fight it.”

Daichi grunts when you tug at his hair a little harder, face buried deep into his front as you desperately hump his leg. He’s gentle with you, strong hands guiding you up and down his leg, but he’d be lying if he said his patience wasn’t starting to wear thin.

The sweet nothings he’s been whispering into your ear this entire time are starting to sound a lot less like cooing and a lot more like grunting.

He couldn’t help it. He can feel you so so vividly, feel your juices dripping down the sides of his thigh and hear you moaning straight into his chest. You were soaked through and through, and it’s taking everything in him to stay patient and let you have this.

“There you go.” He’s praising you when you grind against him particularly hard, ignoring the way his shorts are feeling painfully tight around his cock. “Just like that— move exactly like that.”

“Daichi,” you whine. “‘M getting so close— feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He exhales deeply, and the way his cock twitches suddenly has him groaning, hands squeezing a bit too hard against your hips as you wince. “Daichi..?”

“Oops, sorry princess.” He’s clenching his jaw, giving you a weak smile as you wrap your arms around him. “That’s my bad. Don’t mind me, okay? Just.. worry about yourself— this is all about you right now.”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.

You weren’t as subtle as you thought.

His legs just looked so strong, so perfect to sit on, and you couldn’t help yourself. He didn’t seem to think too much of it when you first sat a little lower than you usually did, straddling his mid thigh as he flipped through another manga that Tendou had lent him earlier that week.

Just subtle movements up and down his thigh was your original plan, but it didn’t take very long for him to catch on.

“What are you doing?” Ushijima’s voice has you jolting from where you’re seated on his left thigh, his gaze now on you and the way you’re frantically waving your arms around in defense, barely able to stammer out a “N-nothing!”

You just barely catch the way his eyebrow raises in suspicion. It has you moving off him the next second, but he’s tossing aside the manga, big and strong hands easily wrapping around your hips to keep you planted on him.

“Don’t leave yet.” He says, stern and flat, but you catch the hint of curiosity swirling deep in his eyes.

The familiar heat of embarrassment is flooding to your face in an instant, and your head hangs low. “S-sorry, Toshi.” You mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Your thighs just looked so big, just wanted to… ride them.”

It’s silent.

You work up the courage to snack a glance at him again, now faced with the sight of his head tilted a bit, as if confused by your confession. “B-but!” You continue, mouth already running off on its own. “Forget it, okay? It might be weird— Toshi..?”

It was just one little flex of his quad, one that had the muscle pushing up against your clit, but the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded sinful. You can feel his grip around your hips tightening a bit, and he’s leaning in to close the gap between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t it feel better like this?”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU.

It started off with an accidental brush of his knee against your cunt.

Bokuto had always been eager with his kisses. He had you pinned down on his mattress, body hovering over yours as he moved his lips against your own— and he hadn’t even noticed anything different until he heard you suddenly moan into his mouth. He’s pulling away the next second, eyes wide as he tries gauging your reaction again, bringing his knee back to rub over your cunt. And … just like clockwork, your eyes clench shut and you choke back a gasp.

He swallows thickly.

Only five minutes later and he’s got you seated on his thigh, moving you back and forth with a needy grunt, his free hand squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “Don’t look away, ‘kay?”

“You look pretty— pretty like that. I just wanna see.”

The look on his face isn’t much different from yours. His mouth is slightly parted in desperate pants, deep red spreading across his cheeks at the sight of you feeling good on his leg. He’s swallowing deeply before he takes in a sharp inhale right after, already pussy drunk and his dick hasn’t even touched you yet.

The way your face starts to contort when you’re rapidly approaching your high has him just hoping he doesn’t end up finishing untouched. It’s throbbing— absolutely aching with need and as soon as you start sobbing his name, he can feel his patience shatter into thin pieces.

You let out a loud yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress, Bokuto looming over you with a strained look on his face as he rushes to line his tip up with your hole. “S-sorry.” His voice is just above a growl. “I can’t help it after all. It’s okay though, right? Gonna make you feel good.”

[knaveofmogadore]

Kfkdks

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

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@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd

@e-dollly

[hiddenbeks]

so many thoughts abt how schewpid the jedi council is in kotor but also not sure if i should write abt any of them before i finish the game because it's entirely possible that i'm still missing some critical information,

[sleepii-moth]

the fact that fnaf after everything with its creator still has adult fans and is getting new merch, games, and other things made for it is wild to me. regardless of how you feel about death of the author or whatever, the new fnaf content that is being made is getting less and less coherent plot wise and the gameplay is getting repetitive. From an objective standpoint i think that the first fnaf game was never meant to be what the series became. As someone who has a general knowledge of how games are made, especially when it comes to narrative driven games, it was clearly meant to simply be a gameplay focused horror game with a little story thrown in to give some cool backstory and add some mystery, and then maybe there'd be a few more games in the series that expand on the mechanics and elaborate on the story a bit but its pretty reasonable to assume that the story of the game was meant to be mostly up for interpretation and that as a series, it wouldnt be too long. Unfortunately though, it ended up gaining fame and people reading more into it which definitely contributed to the series being what it is now (and also yknow.. money is another reason.) It sort of ended up having a certain Supernatural (tm) effect where it kept getting worse but people still watched it which i guess answers my question of why people still like it (because people arent willing to let things they like go even if theyre bad) but that is an unfulfilling answer to me and theres definitely a more fulfilling one

so im wondering now.. are people (not counting kids for a reason) who still like fnaf holding onto the series because they liked the concept (of animatronics, a sprawling mystery, and other things) and have never found or heard of other things that share those same concepts? Or is it really just simply holding onto things that are nostalgic to them? Im genuinely curious because i have been into things that just got bad because they went for too long or tried to do convoluted things with the story that i just moved on from. I still remember when i was younger i watched supernatural with my sibling, and did really enjoy it, we got pretty late in the show before my sibling told me they thought it was getting worse and didnt want to watch it anymore. Of course as a kid who didn't really even know how to tell if a form of entertainment was bad, i was a little upset and didnt understand why but agreed anyway. And so we stopped watching supernatural and watched other things together like steven universe that we ended up liking way more. Occasionally there would be tv show or anime that just ended up sucking and from then on we just stopped watching it and watched something else.

I think the reason i fully stopped liking fnaf was partly that i recognized the content i was watching for it (like lets plays or theory videos) were getting worse and i also just grew out of it? As the years went on i got into other games like half life or portal that had way more fulfilling stories to me that i enjoyed a lot more so fnaf just became something i didnt care about. fnaf is like the cracker barrel of video games to me, i went there as a kid because other people liked it so i was supposed to also like it and mostly really liked it because it was restaurant food and to a kid thats better than anything you get at home (and also they have little toys), and then one day when i was older and had gone to more different places i sat down, ate my food, and thought "wow this is bad actually," and never ate there again. And all of that is to say i really do wonder if the majority of adult fans of fnaf still like it because its one of the few games theyve engaged with in their life, and that if they were to expand their palette, try new things, and look back on their interests, then theyd be able to more easily accept its (and its creators) problems and move on from it as purely a thing of their past. because i promise you, there are better things out there, not everything is cracker barrel or supernatural, theres genres youve never even heard of, games that no one knows about waiting to be played, theres the sprawling mysteries of Outer Wilds, the gut wrenching horror of Devotion, the captivating characters of Psychonauts, the expansive world building of Half Life, there are so many better things out there made by better people. Letting go of something doesnt hurt as much when you have more things to enjoy. There are better things out there, you just have to stop looking in the same place.

[uglygirltrying]

wolf-hybrid!simon x bunny-hybrid!reader | PT3 | pt2 | pt1 |

apparently simon wasn't the only one who loved your scent.

other males had been trespassing on his territory, coming dangerously close to his den. to you.

simon tried to make his scent more pronounced. to keep them away. to keep his bunny safe.

fortunately, so far, no one had been brave enough, to deliberately come after you. and simon thought that nobody would be.

until that day.

simon had left for water that evening. he wouldn't have been gone for long. it was always risky to leave you alone, without his protection. but simon promised to be quick.

unfortunately, that was enough time for him.

you shouldn't have been so naïve. so stupid. you should've stayed vigilant. but you were just cleaning the den. you didn't feel threatened. you felt safe.

heavy thumps on top of the den. that's what you heard first. you looked up, a little bit of dirt fell down from the den ceiling, and dropped on your head. it must be simon. it has to be. right?

but then. there was slow struggling at the den's entrance. you couldn't see it, it was behind a curve. but you could hear it. simon didn't have to struggle to get inside. it was his den after all, it was just big enough, to let him inside.

maybe he was just struggling with the water. yeah. it's simon, you tried to reassure yourself.

"s-simon...?" your voice was meek, scared, unsure. you've stopped messing with the nest, now only focused on the noises coming from the den's entrance.

the obvious struggles at the entrance stopped.

why? simon would give you an answer, wouldn't he?

the weather was beautiful. there was only few clouds covering the blue sky. the sun glared down, hot and bright. it made the snowbanks sparkle beautifully.

the hot light made the snow melt away, uncovering calm, small rapid. the clear water ran over the rocks underneath it's surface. only more and more snow kept melting into the water, small droplets falling down from the melting ice, and snow.

simon knelt by the river. filling a carved, wooden bucket, with the cold, refreshing water.

he had to keep himself, and the bunny hydrated, after all.

the bucket filled pretty quickly, and simon was ready to head back to the den.

the snow crunched under his steps. simons hot breath came out as steam, as it hit the cold air. frost was starting to form on the tips of his hair.

the wolf's movements stilled, as smell hit his nose. a musk. another male.

simon dropped the water filled bucket, and began to run. you were alone. hopefully you were alone.

but he wasn't there to protect you. oh, god.

panic flared inside simon, his heart beating out of his chest.

the den was just a rocks throw away from the river. simon was quickly there. that didn't calm him down. somebody was kneeling at the den's entrance, trying to dig in. trying to get to his bunny.

simon panted heavily as he approached. the trespasser heard him coming. with a smirk on his face, the intruder turned around, to look at simon. simon's hands clenched into fists, his skin turning white.

he gritted his teeth. "mace." the wolfs voice resembled a growl.

here this bear was, trying to steal his bun. simon knew him, a territorial rival. and now he was attempting to take his fucking mate. his mate. his.

the black bear chuckled darkly, as he stood up.

"can smell her... you're hiding a sweet thing in there..."

"time for you to go, mace." simon grumbled.

mace grinned. "i'll leave you be, for now."

he walked down from the den's entrance, towards simon.

"might wanna keep her in there. never know when she's going to get snatched up."

mace's shoulder knocked against simon's, when he walked past him.

simon was fuming. his whole body moved, as he took heavy breaths.

the wolf listened, until the sound of footsteps faded away, before rushing to the mouth of the den.

"bun? come here." he called out, into the tunnel.

he had to wait a moment, before he saw your head sticking out of the hole.

simon sighed. "come here..." he signaled for you to come closer with his hand. slowly, and hesitantly, you crawled to the entrance of the den, where he was waiting for you.

"you okay, bun?" simon mumbled, his hand gently holding your cheek. after a meek nod of your head, simon leaned in and kissed your forehead.

simon leaned away, and gently guided you back down into the den, following suite after you. once you were down in the nest, simon made sure to hold you tight against his chest.

"you know that I would never let anything happen to you. you know that, don't you, bunny?" the wolf murmured into your ear, his free hand slowly making it's way down your stomach.

"what can i do to calm you down, huh? you're still shaking." his hot breath hitting your ear. simon was being sneaky. before you even knew it, his calloused fingers, pinched your nub.

he chuckled at the squeal you let out. his fingers began to gently massage your little clit.

"i'll never let that happen again. okay?" his voice got more serious, and his touch harder. your legs kicked out at the increasing pressure on your sensitive clit.

his touch didn't relent. it only got more determined.

determined to distract you from the scary situation, you had to go through.

determined to make you feel good.

the feeling was foreign. his touch was so tough, just like him. but his words were so sweet. the pressure in your belly grew. your breathing got heavier. simon noticed. with a wicked smirk on his face, his movements got faster.

"give it to me. c'mon bunny... i know you want to." he so meanly teased.

it just suddenly hit you. your legs tensed up, and your breath hitched. luckily, simon decided to show you mercy. he helped you get down from your bliss, before pulling his hand from in between your sweet thighs. your juices coated his fingers. simon grinned at the sight.

the bunny was now completely limp in his arms, panting and exhausted. simon wiped his dirty fingers against the fur on your stomach. simon's hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to look at him.

"go to sleep, bunny..." he murmured quietly, laying you against his side. his arms rested around you, in a protective hold. he couldn't even imagine how scary it must've been for you, being trapped down here, with no way out, while somebody was trying to crawl inside.

but just as he promised, simon would never let it happen again.

authors note: that poor bucket, alone in the cold forest :(

heart divider by @roseschoices

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