#the fact that they are actually children stop i’m crying already

[a-better-happier-san-sebastian]

as someone who wrote their dissertation about percy jackson, the trailer made me VERY emotional

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

[imtryingbuck]

Affair

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Affair

Summary: Y/n founds out about her husband’s affair.

Word count: 1207

Warnings: Angst, Bucky is not good in this im sorry. Sad yet strong reader. Infidelity. Sharon and Steve. Little teeny tiny bit of body hate. Swear words.

A/n: there’s a line from my favourite song of Adeles.

Masterlist

Part 2

The day she found out her husband was having an affair it felt like time had stopped. Thousands of questions sworn inside her head, she didn’t blame her husband or the other woman nope she blamed herself. It was her fault her husband was unfaithful, it was her fault she had not been enough for him, it was her fault for not satisfying his needs. It was her fault. 

After the self-blaming and self-hating she moved on to anger. Angry at her husband betraying her, angry at the other woman - a woman she had called a friend for 15 years - angry at herself, just unadulterated anger. 

Then came the self-pity party, where all she did was cry and cry and cry. She would stand in front of the full body mirror just in her underwear, picking at every single detail on her skin hating what she saw in the reflection. Then she would cry even more due to the fact that after finally loving and being kind to her own body, she was back to hating it. However, she didn’t just feel sorry for herself, no, no she felt sorry for her husband, her children, her husband’s mistress and the husband of her husband’s mistress.

Oh and then there was denial - but that went straight out of her head pretty quickly, after all she did catch them going at it with her own two eyes.

And finally came acceptance. She accepted her husband’s extra marital affair, she accepted that she had been betrayed by two people close to her. Completely aware that her marriage was over and dead.

Her heart remained broken though, that would never change.

~~~

The sound of the door opening use to bring a smile on Y/ns face, sending her straight to the door awaiting him like a goddamn lapdog. Now though all it did was make her wonder which excuse she was going to be given. 

Sitting on the sofa with her knees pulled up staring at the tv screen, chuckling quietly to herself as Peter Griffin continues his antics, wondering to herself why Lois puts up with him. Already smelling the mistress’s perfume on him makes her roll her eyes. 

“Hey bab-“

“I filed for divorce.”

He actually has the audacity to act shocked “w-what do you mean? Bab-“

“Stop. Just stop. I know about your affair, I know you’ve been sleeping with Sharon for the past six months, probably longer I don’t know” mumbling the last part quietly “but all that matters is that I know so now we’re getting divorced.”

She sees him in her peripheral nervously shifting foot to foot, colour completely drained from his face, is that tears? Gross. Before he can even get a good enough excuse for his betrayal straight, she continues.

“Don’t say anything it’s not going to change my mind or decision. I spoke with my lawyer who thinks I’m being to kind - his words not mine - anyway I told him in don’t want money or the house from you. Custody will be split between us evenly” standing up wrapping her arms around herself “you know at first I wanted so many answers but now I just want to know one thing, do you think you can be honest for once? Do you actually think Sharon is going to want you know that I’m leaving you? Think you both can run off into the sunset and live happily ever after?” Using a baby like voice at the end she chuckles at his expression, she can’t tell if it’s heartbreak that she’s leaving him or heartbreak that his mistress isn’t going to want him anymore - laughable. 

“The answer is no by the way. I feel bad though, you both deserve each other. Both so wrapped up in your own selflessness that you were happy to ruin two marriages, two families! To betray, lie and deceive your spouses who happen to be friends! All for what? Sex?” Stepping back when he tries to reach out “don’t fucking touch me! Don’t you dare try and touch me AFTER you’ve been with her! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? And don’t you dare stand there and cry! You did this, you both did. Oh and Steve knows” Literally as she said that his phone started ringing “Go ahead and answer it’s probably your best friend or your mistress, go ahead James and answer” at the sound of his first name he flinched, he pulled his phone out and sighed, declining the call he looked back at the woman who he had the privilege of calling his wife. The mother of his children, the woman who he has loved from the moment he was introduced to her. The woman who he cheated on.

“I’m sorry” is all he could say, he really didn’t remember how the affair started or why on earth he continued it, he has this perfect wife at home, his other half his soulmate and he cheated, he couldn’t even give her a good enough excuse. His guilt was hitting like a ton of bricks, he betrayed his wife and his best friend all for a quick fuck that wasn’t even good.

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that when the morning comes, you’re going to have no one. I feel for you James honestly - stop swaying you’re making me feel seasick, sit down.” Watching him sit on the chair she moves to sit where she was originally sat before.

“Listen I just want to get this off my chest before I go to bed okay, I have loved you so deeply that I honestly don’t think I’d ever stop loving you but James I can’t forgive you, maybe one day in the future I will but not right now. I have been stood by your side through every single thing that has happened to you, and yet you betray me. I don’t know what went wrong with us but whatever I did I’m sorry-“ when he tries to intervene she puts her hand up “Just listen! I’m sorry that our story has ended this way but i can’t trust you anymore or even stand the sight of you if I’m being honest. You have given me something that I can't live without, you mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt. But this is where our story ends.” 

Wiping her tears with the sleeve of her jumper, she stands up stronger and taller than ever before. 

“You can sleep on the sofa or head to Sharon’s I know Steve said he’d be staying with Sam and Nat. Tomorrow I’ll be taking the kids to our new house and then I guess we’ll go from there” Shrugging her shoulders as she doesn’t know what else to say to him. “Goodnight James, I truly hope you all the best”

Once in the comfort of her bedroom she listens to hear his movements but all she can hear are his cries. Smiling sadly, she climbs into the bed, she fears the unknowing of what her future holds whilst also excited for it.

For the first time since she found out about her husband’s affair she sleeps peacefully.

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[quinngefail]

So apparently at 19 Lawrence got institutionalized for 6 months from a psychotic breakdown. I’m pretty sure it’s mentioned in one of the video games. Do you think he’d tell Adam about it? How you you think adam would react? (Also why do you think he even had a breakdown?) love you!!! 🩷

Omfg okay okay I haven't played either of the games yet but I intend to. I did not know about that little bit of lore, though..... But tbh it slides in so perfectly with what I've been formulating for backstory headcanons,

I haven't actually written any of this out in my Google doc yet but. I feel like rambling and just laying out the relevant parts of what I've been brainstorming for him-

Putting a cut because this got longer than I thought it would. Also- tw for talks of emotional abuse, alcoholism, and a brief sui mention- nothing super detailed, though.

So uh. I've been imagining him growing up in this wealthy, very controlling, catholic household. And even from a young age it was extremely rare for his parents to even glance at any of his problems.., One part because they were absolutely the types to guilt him with the whole "THERE ARE CHILDREN IN AFRICA STARVING AND YOU'RE SITTING HERE CRYING ABOUT SOMETHING THAT IS SO TRIVIAL" and another part because I imagine his mother was diagnosed with cancer when Lawrence was just a kid. Which was hard on everyone, of course, but this also meant less attention being put on him and his problems (ft. more guilting because you should be grateful that all you have is a scraped knee, stop crying). Basically the response to any of his struggles would very often be Stop Moping and/or Go Pray About It y’know-

Sooo even at a young age, he quickly developed this mindset that none of his problems were actually 'real', because he had it drilled into his head again and again that he was in a far more fortunate + blessed position than others. Which yeah obviously he had a great deal of privilege on his side from the get-go, but he's still allowed to express hurt and his need for love and care, y’know,

So he just starts repressing everything, holding it all inside. Internally minimizing and invalidating just about anything that made him upset. He does this for years, and years. And by the time that first year of college rolls around, he now has the most independence in his life that he's ever had, finally away from that very, very controlling household... And I very much imagine him as the type to just go off the rails almost immediately, especially in the drinking department. His grades rapidly slip, and he knows there will be hell to pay when his parents inevitably find out about all of this- but it's easier to just sit back and drink, and let his cares about everything slip away.

And of course, his parents do indeed find out. And there is indeed hell to pay. More so from his father, though, as his mother's condition has been rapidly deteriorating, which was certainly just one of the many motivators for Lawrence's drinking. And it's not long before she does pass away, which I think was a final straw of sorts for his mental health.

Between the bottles and bottles of repression he's been holding in for years, the drinking, the fact that he's fucked up so badly with college + absolutely fuckin wasted an amount of time and money, the sheer outrage and disappointment from his parents, his mother's death, and the shattering of his already shaky faith (because evidently, praying for his mother's health didn't do a goddamn thing)... It's a wonder he didn't break sooner,

So then this is where him being institutionalized just SLIDES IN SO EASILY... And I do think right before this happened, he had attempted to take his own life, unable to deal with it all. The treatment helps him back onto a straight path. And maybe he'd already been interested in the medical field, but the loss of his mother was sort of the final push towards wanting to pursue oncology specifically. So after being released, it's college take two: and it goes far better than the last time.

However, he develops this fear of losing control again. He finds comfort and necessity in order. He almost needs it to feel okay. He still has a hard time voicing and downplaying his problems, though, still feeling like they're not 'real'... This being a particular souvenir from growing up that he just can't seem to overcome.

He's also not at all surprised to get a call (in either his late 20s or early 30s) that his father had drank himself to death. Just seemed inevitable.

Then, to cut to the Becoming Closer With Adam Era, I don't imagine he has a hard time explaining that both of his parents have passed away, and why. But he has a very hard time disclosing everything else that happened. Because his problems aren't 'real', of course, and it's just an extremely touchy subject for him in general. Been imagining for a while now that he has this whole Thing where he's far more focused on helping Adam with his own problems- and y’know, part of that is just the fact that when they finally reunite in my AU, Adam is obviously deeply in need of help, because things have gotten bad for him in the months following the bathroom trap. But another part is just Lawrence still having troubles with expressing his own struggles; whether they be traumatic incidents of the past, or the more current Jigsaw related traumas.

Adam eventually catches onto this, especially as his problems become less urgent. And while he's not necessarily going to interrogate Lawrence over anything, he does begin to more frequently urge him to talk about things when he's obviously upset. Lawrence still isn't as good at masking as he thinks he is, much to his dismay. Something specific that I imagine Adam reminding him, with a earnest voice of kindness and patience, is that "this isn't just about you helping me, it's about me helping you, too."

Lawrence does eventually start to open up more about his more current struggles, but it takes a good, long while before he begins scratching the surface of that period of his life. They would be upsetting conversations for the both of them, of course, but the fact that they happen at all are just testaments to the trust they've built together. They feel safer and safer being vulnerable with one another, and it brings them closer together.

And maybe, it brings them closer and closer to things finally just feeling okay.

...WOOH If you are here, thank you for reading- didn't think I was going to ramble this much, but EVIDENTLY I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS ON THIS THAN I REALIZED LMAO..... WHEN I SAY I HAVE A SMALL NOVEL WORTH OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THESE TWO I'M NOT LYING HRKSKGK

A lot of this is also still in the brainstorming stage at this point, so things may be subject to change :] WE SHALL SEE...

And thank you for the ask, and the kind words!!! I hope you enjoy my brainrot HSKGK

[signanothername]

Hello. How are you?

I've recently been following you, and I really love your art and I love how informative you are. You honestly such a joy to see and listen to.

As a question, what is your opinion on Dream? I don't know if you already answered this or not. But I was wondering.

And, I saw how long that Killer question was, (I read it all), so you don't have to answer this either. You can use a few sentences if you want. But it's totally your choice.

Yeah, that's all. Drink water, eat food, surround yourself with people that love you for who you are, and I love you (PLATONICALLY) <3

Hi!! I’m doing well! Thank you <3333

And awww!! Glad i bring you joy! :D

And thanks for the reminders!! Appreciate them so much! Hope you’re doing great, Love you too! /p

And omg fave little guy no.3 time for another ramble hcchchhc

I actually absolutely ADORE Dream, he’s kind, honest, hard working, and very big hearted

Dream tries his best to be nothing but a joy to those around him, he strives to make everyone happy, and not just cause he’s a guardian of positivity, it’s just how he is as a person, he loves making people happy, to be the sunshine in their lives, even if people are thankless or completely unaware of how much effort he puts into making them happy

His unconditional love for Nightmare and the way he cares so much about him above anything and anyone else, the way it reflects on his actions and how Nightmare’s corruption never changes how much he loves his brother?? Crying i can’t why is this boi so so precious

Yet Dream makes really sad, i mean, he himself endured abuse from the villagers, but instead of relentlessly bullying him, they were taking advantage of his kindness and naivety as a child, he spread himself too thin for them, yet not a single one stopped to think that he is a child, people never truly cared for Dream as much as they cared about the golden apples and the apple incident is an obvious example of that

And i feel like this is one of the reasons he’s an absolute people pleaser, he was conditioned to believe he has to put the happiness of others before his own at such a young age, that it’s somehow his job to make people happy even if it makes him feel bad, and while Dream’s job is obviously to help people, it was never his job to put their happiness before his, but what’s a clueless child to do y’know?

And that’s something i like to believe he never truly grew out of until he expended his energy completely after centuries, even then, Dream still feels guilty when he puts his foot down and tells someone to stop something or when he isn’t willing to help them, the guilt still eats away at him but it’s something i believe he’ll learn to quell, that it’s not his fault, or his job to destroy himself for the sake of what others want

There’s also the fact Dream has to fight his brother, the one he loves the most, it obviously hurts Dream’s heart immensely, he likes to believe his brother is still there deep down, and while he’s half right, time and corruption changed Nightmare, which Dream learns to adapt to, that just like Nightmare changed he has to change himself if he wanted to catch up, it doesn’t change the fact Dream’s heart is beyond broken for losing his brother

The fact Dream had to endure 500 years of being trapped as a statue, the last thing he saw was his brother’s crazed look and countless dead bodies all killed by his own brother, the fact he was willing to talk to Nightmare regardless and the fact it never changed how much he loves Nightmare even when his brother’s actions horrified him, Dream obviously realizes that they were both only children who endured so much and who both experienced a very traumatic event

The thing is, Dream and Nightmare are twins, and unlike none twin siblings, twins tend to be a lot closer and they act as two halves of the same whole, and I feel like half of Dream just feels so empty, the half his brother used to fill, Dream feels so alone in the world, cause nobody holds the same burden he does, yet what does Dream do? Smile, hold his head high, and face the challenges of every dreaded day head on, he doesn’t falter or break even under the immense pressure of his job, his corrupted brother, and everyone’s expectations of him

That doesn’t mean Dream is happy or has a fulfilling life, far from it, he’s broken, and just like Nightmare, he has an inner child in dire need to heal, but he doesn’t let life, his burden, his past or dreaded future dictate how he views today, he survives day by day and is still willing to put on a genuine smile regardless

If that isn’t bravery, idk what is

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I wonder how would lucky story go if she met the strawhats crew when there were younger instead meeting them when there 17? Instant big sis or instant mother figure🤔

Honestly, Lucky already is going to have a big sister-esque relationship with most of the straw hats, so I went with her being a mother figure. No yandere stuff here because they're all kids.

Careful What You Wish For

Child Straw Hats x Reader

2.2k words

“Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up!”

Thankfully, the stars aligned, and against all odds, your mother actually answered, “(Y/N)? You never call, what’s going on?”

“Oh thank God, I need help!” You were practically weeping from relief.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Oh I knew this would happen with all that exploring you do!” Your mother flipped from concerned to scolding in record time.

“No, it’s not that! I don’t know how,” you take a deep breath, “but I just became a single mother of seven and I don’t know what to do.” You elect to keep the information that one of these kids is, in fact, an anthropomorphic deer to yourself. You gotta ease her into this.

The line is silent for a minute before your mother speaks up again, but not without an exasperated sigh, “This isn’t funny (y/n), I thought something was actually wrong. Don’t offer to babysit that many children if you can’t handle it.”

“No! You don’t understand! I didn’t-” you’re cut off by the sound of the line going dead. This bitch. You don’t know if you want to scream or cry. Maybe both. Of course she didn’t help, you honestly don’t know what you expected.

Loud sniffling from above your head called for your attention. Chopper, the previously aforementioned deer, has been perched on your shoulders and clinging onto your head for dear life practically since he got here because Luffy bit him. You blindly reach up to pat his head, internally grateful for the fact that he’s stopped crying.

The patter of tiny feet coming right for you catches your attention and you look to the side to see Luffy charging at you with Usopp trailing behind him. Oh boy. This kid was a lot, but he also did really weird shit. His limbs stretched like he was made of rubber, something that nearly gave you a heart attack when he first revealed this.

His eyes locked onto your cell phone, “What’s that, let me see!” Without even giving you a chance to respond, his arm does the stretchy thing and snatches it out of your hand. He turns it over in his hands, visibly perplexed by it. “What’s this supposed to be?”

You try to get it back, but kids become masters of evasion when they have something they aren’t supposed to have, “Give that back Luffy, you’re going to break it!”

“Nuh-uh! I’ll be careful with it!” He disagrees as he immediately drops it. Luckily for you, Usopp catches it before it can hit the floor.

“I know what this is! It’s… um… it’s,” Usopp examined the phone closely with the same level of confusion that Luffy had despite his previous claims that he knows what it is. 

Fortunately, he was too focused on your phone to see your hand coming and you were able to grab it out of his hands. You hastily stuff it into your back pocket, “It’s just a phone, don’t worry about it.” You walk away from them, wanting to locate the rest of the kids that have since dispersed.

Luffy followed behind you like a duckling, reaching up to tug on Chopper, “Hey, come down and play with us!”

Chopper only clung onto your head tighter, “No! You’re gonna bite me again!” You winced at the feeling of hooves digging into your head.

“I won’t do it again! Don’t be such a scaredy cat! Er- Scaredy deer!” 

“I’m a reindeer!” Chopper snapped indignantly. You mentally made a note that he’s a reindeer, not a deer.

Luffy was not deterred by the protests and decided to take it a step further by slingshotting himself up your back. You yelped at the sudden action, completely being thrown off balance. Luffy only giggled at your distress.

Between Chopper flailing from Luffy invading his personal space, Luffy treating you like a human jungle gym, and Usopp latching onto one of your legs (presumably not wanting to be left out of the chaos), it’s hardly surprising when you topple over. 

Chopper was dislodged immediately, tumbling away from you with a scream. You groan from the impact and force yourself to take a deep breath so you don’t explode at a bunch of young children. It doesn’t help that much. You look over your shoulder to glare at the two kids still attached to you, but whatever scolding you had in mind died on your tongue upon seeing Luffy’s smiling face. Dammit. He has no idea how lucky he is that he’s adorable.

You pushed yourself up, shaking Usopp off your leg and reaching behind you to pluck Luffy off your back. He giggles at being held upside down in front of you, not a care in the world for what his mischief caused. You try your best to at least look stern, “It’s not very nice to knock people over, you know.”

“I didn’t think you would fall over just from that! You’re kinda clumsy,” he has the audacity to laugh in your face. 

“You little-” your eye twitches, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not a good idea to swear in front of children. You dropped him into your lap, which only made him laugh more and squirm around to get upright. The second he is, he latches onto you again.

“You should come play with us, too!” His smile almost breaks you, but you have other things you need to do. Despite your mother’s assumptions, this isn’t some babysitting job. This is some bizarre case of seven children spawning into your living room with no warning or explanation.

“Maybe later. I need to go check on everyone else, okay?” It takes a bit of effort to pry him off this time, his rubbery arms being surprisingly strong. He’s pouting when you do manage to pull him off, but quickly shifts his focus onto Chopper who is hiding behind a chair. Well, hiding is a strong word for what he was doing. Only like half of an antler was actually obscured from view.

The reindeer took off like the devil was chasing him, Luffy not far behind. You decide to let them work this out. Luffy probably won’t bite him again, maybe they’ll be able to settle their differences. You massaged your temples in a half hearted attempt to ward off your oncoming headache.

“Are you okay?” Robin put the book she was reading down enough to peer at you over it. She was the oldest one, looking to be either a preteen or very young teenager. The girl was very quiet, choosing to keep to herself and curl up on your couch with one of your books.

“I’ll be alright,” you say unconvincingly. In reality, you feel like you’re about to have a panic attack, but you’ll keep that to yourself for now. There’s no need to dump all of that on her. 

She regarded you with a high degree of uncertainty, clearly not buying it, but shrugged it off. Her eyes flitted back to the book, “Okay, but you might want to go check on Nami.”

“Why?” Panic spikes in your heart, wondering why she was saying this.

“She ran off with your purse a while ago,” Robin offers nonchalantly, nodding her head in the direction of your bedroom. 

“Oh come on!” You sprint towards the room, kicking yourself for not taking note of the suspiciously closed door sooner. Upon throwing open the door, you find the culprit kneeling on the ground next to the dumped out contents of your purse. She looked surprised to be caught, but distinctly not ashamed. “Get out of there! You shouldn’t go through other people’s belongings!”

Nami doesn’t even flinch, only smiling cheekily at your attempt to scold her, “Your money looks weird, and you don’t even have that much of it.” As she’s saying this, she pulls out the sorry contents of your wallet. Some crumpled up singles you got as tips at work along with some loose change.

“Hey! I don’t need that from you!” The last thing anyone needs is a small child calling them broke. You lunge for the wallet. While you do manage to grab it, it doesn’t mean much. Not when she’s already got tiny fistfulls of crumpled bills and coins. 

Nami bolts, but not before taking a second to stick her tongue out at you. You run a hand through your hair and hazard a glance down at the wallet. Completely empty. You just got robbed by what looks like a six year old. That’s a new low for you. You heave out a sigh and decide to let it go for the time being, you’re pretty sure all she really made off with was maybe $4.27.

This still leaves two kids unaccounted for, and you are almost afraid to find out what they’ve gotten up to since you’ve become distracted. Steeling yourself, you exit the room and begin your search. 

Robin is still reading on the couch, but now Chopper is curled up next to her, looking frazzled. Usopp is messing with the remote to your tv, and Nami is hiding (poorly) under your table while counting her (your) money. Luffy is nowhere to be seen, but you can hear him so you at least know he hasn’t run away.

On top of that, you can also hear bickering coming from your kitchen. Hurrying over there, you find the last two kids arguing with each other. Over knives. These kids are going to put you in an early grave, you’re sure of it. 

“No! You can’t have them, I just finished sharpening those!” Sanji kicked Zoro’s shins, trying to wrestle three knives away from him. One of which was in his mouth while the other two were in his hands. 

“I need them for practice, you can have them back later!” Zoro speaks shockingly clearly despite having a paring knife clenched between his teeth.

“Drop it!” You screeched, startling both of them. Zoro didn’t even get a chance to put the knives down before you swiped them away. He started to protest but shut his mouth after you glared at him, “I don’t want to hear it! No knives! Go play with sticks like every other kid!” Zoro crossed his arms and huffed, but ultimately settled for stomping out of the kitchen. 

Sanji, on the other hand, was proudly beaming at you, “I wanted to cut up some fruit for you, Nami, and Robin, but all of your knives were dull so I sharpened them for you!” 

The kid looked so proud of himself that you couldn’t find it in you to be as upset about him handling knives as you probably should be. “That was very nice of you, but you shouldn’t be handling knives at your age. Please just ask me to do it if they get dull again,” you do your best to keep your tone kind but firm.

Sanji cocks his head at this, “No I’m not, I work in a kitchen and do this all the time! Old man Zeff taught me how.”

What in the child labor? You shake your head, you’ll question that more later, “Well you’re not working right now, you’re in my home and I say no using the knives.”

Sanji pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. He grabbed onto your legs and looked up at you pleadingly, “But I know what I’m doing! Please! It’s not just a job to me, I love cooking!”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t cook, just no using knives,” you tried to assuage him, but he’s still looking at you like you just robbed him of his passion. “Okay, how about I let you, but only under supervision?”

The compromise causes him to perk right up and nod his head enthusiastically. He looks like he wants to say more, but is interrupted by someone else coming into the kitchen. You don’t even need to turn around, recognizing the sound of sandals slapping across the floor.

“I’m hungry! Do you have any food?” Luffy was staring up at you pleadingly, as if he would wither away any second. 

Oh yeah. Having a bunch of kids around does mean that you have to feed them. You internally cringe, you barely have enough food for yourself most weeks. Still, you can’t just let them go hungry, it’s not their fault they’re here. You did just do your weekly grocery shopping trip yesterday, so you do have enough to feed them right now. It definitely wouldn’t last you all the rest of the week, though. You’ll have to figure something out.

“Sure! Give me a few minutes and I’ll get lunch ready,” you force a smile on your face despite your worries. Sanji looks up at you expectantly, “Yes, you can help.”

He grins and hops up onto a stepping stool so he can get to work on slicing the apples he set out. While he does that, you rummage through your fridge, grabbing what you need to make sandwiches. You honestly don’t know what you’re going to do food-wise after today, but you’ll worry about that later. 

This is certainly an interesting change of pace for you.

[iamyoursonly]

My safe haven (25/12/2023)

merry christmas guyssss! i’m here to serve you a meal so enjoyyyy

Wearing my headphones, I sit down at a seat on the train back home. My heart and soul can’t wait till the moment of relaxation home comes. I was so excited to finally go home after a whole week of overtime. I really am tired, physically and somewhat mentally too.

The ride was a bit bumpy, about an hour long I’d say. I enjoyed the quiet time alone… Music playing in my ears as I read the book I have kept in my bag for a few months already. One page and another, I scanned through the lines of words, reading every single one of them.

Enjoyable times flies by, am I right? The train reaches its final stop — my stop — as I reluctantly get off. Holding the book in my hands, I jog out of the subway and head to the bus station.

The Christmas decorations in the subway were bright, children were carolling in the station and shops had sales for this festive holiday. I couldn’t help but stop and admire the decorations at the bakery in awe. I take out the scarf from my bag and wrap it around my neck, scared that I might get a cold from the weird weather right now.

My phone buzzed when first I stepped out of the subway, the cold wind blowing in my face. I breathed out a big breath, seeing my own breath in the air. Then I take out my phone, hands freezing.

S: Are you home yet?

You: Almost there

The time was about eleven at night when I finally reached home — my little haven of peace. I love how comforting the environment always is and how well it reflects my personality, the quietness of it and the calmness it brings me. I take off my shoes, and turn on the lights for the living room. A tall and lean figure was seen spreading all over the couch after the lights were turned on.

“Satoru? What are you doing here? On the couch really? You’re going to break your fucking back, dude.”

He stands up, looking a bit offended by my comment. “Hey! First up, I have the right to be here. You gave me the key, alright? Secondly, where if not the couch. Your bed? Lastly, I am not going to break my fucking back, dude. I’m just twenty eight.”

I mutter a little curse under my breath, “You little shit. At least take care of your mess! Do you think I won’t catch the chip crumbs on the couch?”

He quickly tried to swipe the crumbs onto the floor to ‘remove the evidence’ of his ‘crime’. It’s actually really funny I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

I noticed that Satoru let out a visible blush when I started laughing, it was adorable to be honest. But then he started laughing along with me.

“Would you like a coffee?” Satoru asks, “I want to apologise about the mess.”

I stop my laughing and hit his head lightly, “You dumbass it’s 11 right now, do you want me awake for the whole night?” I mutter.

He says sorry quickly though, and promised to get me coffee at a more appropriate time. Then he proposed to play nintendo games together. I kept losing to him but it doesn’t matter.

We have always had so much fun together, since forever ago, because the ‘home is my safe haven’ thing is a lie. The truth is, Satoru is my safe haven. He doesn’t know it though.

A few years ago, his mother met up with me personally after she heard from an ‘unknown source’ that I have a thing for his son. It’s not like I was in any position to deny this fact, ai just didn’t want to accept it yet. But I was definite that the person that told her was my ex that had always been angry at me for always hanging out with Satoru.

“Here take the money and stop everything you’re doing with Satoru.” That’s all I remember her saying but all I did was keep my stance and say no. Then I burst out of the room crying, and ended up in Satoru’s arms again. Telling him all about it.

He went to talk to his mother the next day and he was grounded for a week. That week I felt alone and empty and sad without him. And started to over think that I was the bad influence for him. So I asked my mother if I could transfer schools, at least somewhere away from Satoru. Because as long as Satoru is happy, I am.

I remember seeing a girl on Satoru’s instagram stories, apparently she was his girlfriend and it was just to ‘take his mind off all this drama’. Not that I’m blaming him though. I could only make myself believe that: I’m the coward that ran away and I don’t deserve him.

When I thought the ‘feelings’ were finally over after five years of ‘No Satoru’, I returned and took up a nine-to-five job as a secretary for the company Satoru’s family owned.

It was just to test out if I still had the butterflies in my stomach when I glance at Satoru’s pretty face. Well they’re still there, all that distance and time away didn’t really work.

“Hey! Satoru! The crumbs are on the floor now, oh my god! Why do you keep doing this to me every time you come to my house! Do you really want me to get into trouble with your mother again?”

He let out a slight chuckle, “It’s fine, because I’ll be there with you this time.”

I breathe out, “What?!”

He continued, “Have I ever told you why I came back to you after you left for so long?”

“To be honest with you, Satoru. I don’t really want or need to know, because you’re here now and that’s what it matters. But go ahead and talk.”

He smiled and nodded, “You know when you left, I was practically a living corpse. At least my mom said I was. I didn’t want to believe that you were gone. I thought that you were strong enough to trust me to handle this… But you were gone. And when I realized it was a little too late. I gaslighted myself that you were just going on a small vacation and you’ll be back soon. But the next time I saw you was at your job interview. And you were working for my top employee, you didn’t know how happy I was, I may have cried tears of joy in the bathroom.”

I hug him, “Sorry for leaving. And thank you for telling me all this”

He hugs me back, “Yeah. Can I tell you something?”

I nod, “Go ahead, Satoru.”

“I like you.”

Well that was the thing that I least expected he’d say. ‘I like you’? Really? Was I happy? Or was I not. But I just wanted to fling my arms over his shoulders and give him a big hug and an even bigger thank you.

But we’d be good at dating, since we’ve known each other for so long, we already fought and figured it out. We have known each other’s likes or dislikes, and he could take me out on dates filled with joy and fun. Maybe we could try it out, even if it ruins the friendship. It’s worth it if it’s ruined for you.

So I hug the taller male, smiling on my face and also deep down, “Thank you. Thank you for liking me.”

I didn’t know what to say, it was a bit shocking. Maybe it all just happened too fast, or was it because I couldn’t process too much and was just hallucinating. I pinched my cheek hard and I was everything BUT hallucinating.

“Is this real?” I asked Satoru.

He looked at me with a smile and smiled, “Unfortunately, yeah.”

I hit his chest because of his childishness, “I can’t with you.”

“But you like me too don’t you?” He shrug.

“What did you say??!” I start yelling at him, grabbing the TV controller that was on the couch. “Come here, boss. Let me hit some sense into you!”

He run away frantically, as a joke of course, he knew I was joking, that’s how well we know each other. Then I catch him, I grabbed ahold of his waist from behind, “Caught you.”

He hold his hands up like he had just been arrested, “Oh no! I have been caught.” He said with a tone of sarcasm. He turned around and held me up, I was shocked of course, I yelped when he first did. Then his face was close to mine, so close I could feel his breath on my face.

“I really like you, I’m not joking.”

Feeling brave, I grab his face. “Guess what, I like you too.”

Then I kiss him, and it was ethereal, as if all the butterflies in my stomach had exploded. And it was just like the world has left the two of us behind. Just him and I.

“Really?” He breathed out, “You mean it?”

I continue holding his face, looking him in the eye, “What do you think? Does it feel unreal?”

Satoru chuckled, and held my face too, “It does.” My face grows red from it, I don’t know if it was because of the cold or because of him anymore, but either ways I’m grateful enough to have him here already.

“Also, sweetie. You’ve made my year even more special,” He says, and I look at him. The clock chimes, signalling that it’s now 12am, “Now I can finally change my way of saying ‘Merry Christmas’ to you. I’m going to say ‘Merry Christmas, darling’ from now on.” I could just smile at this sweet gesture, “Then what should I say? ‘Merry Christmas, ‘toru’?”

“I’d like that.” Satoru says, then he leans down and kisses me again.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

“Merry Christmas, ‘Toru.”

This Christmas, and the next and the next next, until forever. I wish to be in his embrace, his warmth and pray that our love will be eternal.

BONUS:

“Look here, princess.” He says, making my eyes look at him on command, “Yes, dear?” I mimic his tone as I look at his gorgeous eyes. He laughed when I did.

“What??” I asked, pouting, “So it’s only funny when you do it?”

He jokingly commented, “Of course it is, no one has my sense of humor.” I playfully hit him and he dramatically pretended if I had hit him in the gut hard. “Oh my god that hurt so bad!”

He really has a nice sense of humor.

masterlist

[hanafubukki]

You're welcome ! I didn't realise this ask was that long though I kinda let my brain goes free 🥲

But also, the idea of Leia already been pregnant at the time the Knight was fighting would be actually mind blowing. Because if the Knight knew, it would give a whole another meaning to the saving of Lilia and Egg-lleus. Because at that time, he would have known what it's like to wait for an unborn child and to wish to protect it at all cost.

In that way, we could say Silver existence saved Malleus and Malleus existence saved Silver.

But this saying can goes also now with Book 7 event. Malleus existence saved Silver, and without Silver, nobody would been able to "goes out" from their dream to save Malleus.

Those two brothers, children of enemies and raised by the same person, are fated to save each other 🥹

(Referencing this ask)

Anonie🌻🌺🌷, Anonie, I am shaking you. I am shaking you so hard right now.

If we somehow find out that Leia was already pregnant with Silver then I’m going to scream into my pillow and cry.

The feelings of the Knight of Dawn knowing what it’s like to have a child coming soon. To look at this egg, who is a babe soon to be born, just like his. How that would stay his hand and allow Lilia and Malleus to go free and escape.

He was forced to fight Meleanor but he couldn’t take the life of a baby. He would never be able to look at his own knowing the blood he has on his hands.

The fact that their parents were enemies didn’t stop Malleus and Silver from loving each other, from protecting each other, from saving each other.

“Those two brothers, children of enemies and raised by the same person, are fated to save each other” This, exactly this. They were born in a time of hate and war, but grew up in a time of peace and prosperity, they are the children of enemies, but that didn’t stop them from learning to love each other and save each other.

It really shows you how love conquers all. How out of hate, love can be born and can prosper 🥹💚

Also, please don’t worry about the long ask. I loved every bit of it. I love reading people just being passionate and sharing their thoughts. By all means, let your brain run free ☺️🌺🙌

[chickened-out-noodle]

Or Nothing At All...

The call goes to voicemail, again, and Gerald is so frustrated he could scream. His children are sitting in the car, it’s been hours and hours since Linda walked into that mall and now he can’t get a hold of her. The last time she said anything was to cry about a hair appointment as if she wasn’t trapped in a mall with people murdering each other over a doll. He calls again, shifting in his seat and looking at the mall in front of him. Nervously, the pointer finger on his right hand picks at the cuticle of his big thumb. Come on, come on, please tell me you’re ok–

“Gerald?” Linda’s voice has always had a bell-like quality to it, clear and high. Gerald sinks against the driver’s seat with relief. 

“Linda, honey, what’s going on in there? I called like forty times–”

“I’m okay, Gerald. I–” She pauses, collects her thoughts. “I’m not going to be out for a while, though.”

Gerald frowns at the dashboard as his mind races. He opens the car door, stepping out and closing it behind him. If something serious is happening, if Linda is in trouble, he doesn’t want the boys to hear about it. “What’s going on?”

Gerald was not an idiot. You might assume that he was tricked into marrying Linda, because how could any man stand someone who would do anything for what she wanted? This is not the case. He knew the moment he met her that Linda was insatiably hungry for more, that she was ruthless. He saw how he treated Becky Barnes, how she treated the people she thought were beneath her. 

Despite all of that, nothing prepared him for Linda explaining that she had pledged loyalty to a dark God and was now the prophet of a cult that followed Him. Of all her schemes, all the ways she’d gotten herself to the top, this was a whole new world in comparison. He could barely believe what he was hearing, stuck on the fact that this was actually happening and not the plot of some show. She was going to build a portal, she explained, a birth canal for Wiggly to emerge from. And when He did, He would claim Earth as His own. Incredible power, incomprehensible and unimaginable. Nothing would stop Him after that, and it was possible they couldn’t even stop Him now. 

This should be the straw that breaks the camel's back, the thing that convinces him to leave Linda, take the kids, and never look back. And maybe something was wrong with him, but he didn’t want to. The malice, the power that she commands because she will really stop at nothing... It draws him in, like a moth to a flame, and he’s happy.

He’s happy. 

But… is this too far? Is there a line here? Is there a point where he stops enabling her, where he steps back and realizes that she is going to get him killed someday? That she’s likely already got other people killed? That she cares about power before anything else, that she cares about being loved more than anything else. It’s typical that she would become the Mother, the Prophet, in the spotlight drinking in attention and affection from a world obsessed with idolizing celebrities wherever they can. He would choose his wife and children over anything, and he has before. He would walk to the moon and back again, find a way to part the Red Sea all over again if it meant his wife and kids would be happy. 

Linda would choose power. And she had. 

_______

This is a part two to All, but from Gerald's POV :)) Hope you guys enjoy! - Soup

Edited by @disdoorted-crows

[imaginespazzi]

PARTTTT 8

- NIVIII BBBYYY HIIIIII just wanted to say ilysm

- 9k????? OH MY YOU GODDESS I CANT

- anyways onto reading…!

- the first theme being angst.. yeah the cliff and i abt to be like 🤞 🤞

- girl don’t even stress abt the missed timeline PLEASE!! you have been spoiling us so much. i hope you have an amazing vacation you def deserve one!! The weekly update will be missed ofc but as i’ve said before, your updates are always worth the wait 🩷🩷

- me too azzi girl #liarabtmyfeelings

- OH GOD I JUST NOTICED ITS 2025 IM SCARED

- AAILYAH HI BBYYY #bluntqueen

- lexie…babe thanks for your lack social awareness 🥰🥰 giving us a pazzi reunion however, im shaking in my boots rn

- hey so just thought you should know, you finally got tears out of my eyes! could be the fact my day has sucked but i am crying over azzi saying she’s proud of paige and paige being shocked. my soul has been harmed😢

- so off topic but jewell and paige’s friendship is so cute.

-paige fumbling over her feet to get away from azzi. i just know the details of their breakup are gonna the lash thing read before i take my last breath.

- a world where paige and azzi go three months without speaking is one i fear.

- okay my stomach hurts. paige’s anger is so valid, it really is but my god not too much on azzi… my heart can’t take it.

- “We’re not together and I can flirt or kiss or fuck-” she flinches, “anyone if I want to.” i flinched too!

- paige hun pretending is just going to make it hurt more later. istg u and your evil geniuses… IM SO SCARED THAT THEY ARE PRETENDING TO MUCH IN THE NOW AND THEY ARE GONNA GET HIT BY A TRUCK. (not an actual truck but like yk)

- GOD AZZI PULLING AWAY FIRST AGAIN. PAIGES FACE.

- stop paige ☹️

- yeah where’s my cliff at? i might as well pay rent.

- “if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face.” yeah so the cliff isn’t enough anymore. seems to easy of a way to go.

- FOREPLAYING. MADISON?!!!!! INFRONT OF CHILDREN???? girl.

- stephie is a smartie for her attempts in guilt tripping paige.. i don’t think paige has ever actually used the word no around her tbh

- OH GODDAMN PAIGE. she’s been talking to aaliyah i see with her bluntness! i feel like ur anon (the emoji one holding the baby) BUT CAN THESE BITCHES FUCK ALREADY?!!! i don’t even need details BUT GODDAMN.

- god. i get where paige’s doubt is coming but girl please just let azzi talk instead of just hanging up 😭

- i however fear i would’ve hung up too…

- “I called because I hung up without saying goodnight to Stephie and just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss saying goodnight to her.” and just like that i’m screaming😊 since we decided the cliff wasn’t enough… i’m thinking fire ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 because that’s how my heart feels!

- yes teammates def carpool!!! the end all smiles! great chapter!

- MS. FRENCHIE WENT TO MOTHER DAUGHTER MOVIE NIGHT??? what the fuck. jana may be a child of divorce (can it even be called that if azzi said no to marriage?) BUT PAIGE CANT BE REPLACED!!

- hey so i just read the paragraph abt love and yeah maybe fire then flinging myself off the cliff will be enough? oh and im crying again.

- oh

- my

- god

- i am full on sobbing rn

- i did not see this coming

- PAIGE SAYING I HATE YOU😭😭 after that whole paragraph of azzi thinking abt how paige loved every part of her imperfections and all. u planned that nivi u evil genius.

- “she loves being seen with me, she loves being known as my wife” god does paige even love her or just being seen with someone who loves her? god i’m starting to feel really bad for mrs. cunt. these divorce papers need to be signed already.

- “why couldn’t you have just loved me enough” paige bby:( stop i feel so conflicted. like part of me is upset with azzi for how much pain paige is in BUT THEN IM LIKE NO NO NO azzi had her reasons which were valid and outside of how much love she has for paige. BUT GOD MY POOR PAIGE.

- i need azzi to get off this phone call RIGHT NEEEEOOWWW. get this girl a hug PLEWSEEEEE hearing this is harming my soul for azzi

- “i think i’ll miss you forever” OKAY LANA DEL REY💋💋💋

- OH GOD MS. FRENCHIE VS PAIGE FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

- yk ms. frenchie im kinda a fan of you. i mean i want azzi far far away from you but i’m glad azzi had someone completely on her side.

- OH HE DID NOT JUST INSULT STEPHIE LIKE THAT.

- AZZI FUDD THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE. BEAT A BITCH UP😛YESSSSSSS!!!🥇🥇🥇

- i was expecting paige to get violent but oh this was so much better. rereading this i don’t know why i was expecting paige bueckers to harm someone else??

- okay tension 🔥🔥

- “we can’t keep throwing the past in each other’s face, Paige.” AZZI I AGREE but also please YALL can we talk abt the past because im scared if they keep ignoring it, it’s gonna blow up

- GOD paige is constantly just in panic mode of “is azzi gonna leave again” and like i get, i do but im actually terrified of how this is gonna come back and hurt them.

- “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.” oh okay just rip my heart out that’s fine i don’t need it anyways.

- im literally laying on my floor complicating life

- yk are these freaks abt to break their rules and have a sleepover…

- OKAYYY FUTURE CHAPTER YAP SESSION TIMEEEEEE OR LIKE question time ig?

- okay so ms. frenchie DIDNT WANT CHANGE TEAMS??? DAMN. is this like known to the team? wait u may have said this already so oops but what position did ms. frenchie play? was anyone else traded out to get paige or just her?

- can we just take a moment for some ice brady appreciation! i love her and paige’s friendship.

- OKAY SO i take it paige doesn’t remember the call..?

- okay question ive been dying to ask butttt are we ever gonna get a nika feature?????

- im legit on the edge of my seat dying to find out more details abt their breakup

- okay that’s all i got… im always so amazed with how much your other anons always pick up 😭😭 im always too involved in my own emotions to notice your small details then i read others recaps and im LIKE DAMN OK OK NIVI I SEE U.

-also sorry for the shorter review i was kinda crying and screaming too much to think

- ANNND i fear ms. frenchie is gonna have to stick bc i can never remember how to spell her name… (plus like u said she wasn’t gonna play a big role so WHATTEEVVVEEESS)

- anyways hear to say even though sometimes i think you enjoy putting me at the bottom of my cliff you’re still my favorite evil genius!!🩷

- 🤩🤩

Hiiii bby 🫶🏾

- Thank you so much lovely!! Hopefully not writing for a bit will make me miss it so much that I suddenly lose my ability to procrastinate after I get home.

- Omg I don't know if I should apologize or take it as an honor that I finally made you cry. 😭

- I loveeee Jewell so much and I absolutely adore that she and Paige seem to get along so well. It make me so happy.

- The word no absolutely does not exist in Paige's dictionary when it comes to Stephie (or Azzi for that matter)

- LMAO everyone just waiting for these gays to fuck lol

- Oooooh from jumping off cliffs to burning in fires, this journey of yours through nature is quite interesting 😭

- Mrs Cunt and Miss Frenchie makes me laugh every time lmao

- I try really hard to keep y'all sympathetic towards both Paige and Azzi so that you feel this way for both of them makes me really happy. They're just in an awful situation really. (WHO DID THAT?? 🤪)

- Communication is so important. They really should listen to you and talk....but will they?

- Clémence is likely a guard but idk if I'm ever gonna specify that so it's up to y'all really.

- Nika feature for sure at some point! Honestly a fair amount of cameo to go because I can in fact drag this out lol.

Ah babes I don't mean to push you off a cliff but I hope you're comfortable down there 😭

[secular-jew]

I’m back from a short trip on a social network with photographs and videos from Gaza, with some brief personal conclusions.

First, it is quite clear that there are those in Gaza who know how to make extensive use of the networks and social media for the purposes of emotional extortion and also false propaganda, exactly like they live-streamed the October 7 massacre and somehow turned it into “justified resistance”, they use quite a few Western buzzwords such as “genocide”, “occupation”, “oppression” and “Zionism”- and this is the simplest way to distinguish between Hamas propaganda posts and authentic people in Gaza, whom I’ve known all my life, who use much simpler words and not this indoctrinated manipulation bullshit.

I was looking for THESE authentic people - the real voices. And I think I found a few.

So first of all, what do I think there is NOT happening in Gaza? There is no genocide and no famine.

Yes, there is quite a lot of suffering, shortages in some places and lack of decent shelter etc. And there’s a lot of cynical exploitation of it for propaganda purposes. I’m saying it because you can see children are getting payed for it, you can see the absolute control of distribution and you can see how basic needs and the way out is blocked with money- Israel is not taking money for any of it, the West is sending free aid, so the money is demanded by those who want to control the suffering and use it.

You should know, that before the war - there was already quite a lot of very poor population in Gaza, but now the economic difficulty has greatly increased for two main reasons: one, the war damaged many sources of livelihood and the second - a major source of livelihood was working in Israel and this option was closed for a long time now, since October 7, and is now much less operational.

So in fact the main source of income is donations and funding from Hamas for control purposes of course.

This is how, among other things, Hamas uses the population to "work for them", and also to smile or cry for the cameras on demand.

Now on the issue of claimed famine- famine is when there’s NO food and water, enough for the population. As I said, my personal conclusion is that there is no shortage of food and water in Gaza at all.

The problem is that the food is not distributed equally, it is controlled by those who are powerful (usually Hamas operatives) and then sold at high costs to the population without them having sources of livelihood.

Food that should be distributed for #free is actually sold at a high price, the shelter tents are also paid for and the exit from Gaza is particularly expensive (5000$ that are paid to the transporters).

There are quite a few who refer to Gaza as a "prison" but Gaza is not a prison, Hamas has simply created a situation where it is very expensive to leave it - and thus the poor and the new poor are completely dependent on Hamas and other clans (Hamulas) in everything to do with food, shelter and exit, and they play with them as pawns.

If Gaza is a prison - then it’s because Hamas are imprisoning it.

All the suffering in Gaza started because of #Hamas it continues and increases because of #Hamas, but the main point is that #Hamas is also the one factor that can stop it.

If Hamas surrendered unconditionally and released the Israeli hostages, as done in any war in which you are forced to admit defeat - they would truly liberate Palestine. Remember- this is a war that #Hamas started, a war that on Oct. 7 was celebrated in the streets of Gaza.

But #Hamas prefers to keep the Palestinians captive so that it can showcase suffering (which they create) and use it as a tool for financial donations, manipulation of the West and a messianic jihadist war that will never end for them.

If the West doesn’t wake up to this ongoing manipulation- they will never help the Palestinians in Gaza or in general, and they will bring this jihadist chaos to their doorstep.

[starlit-summer-nights]

No More Pain- Mother! Reader x Son! Butters (fluff)

TW- Infertility, Child Abuse

hey everyone! so this is a little outside of what I usually write. I recently watched South Park again and I realized there is absolutely no fanfiction on a mother reader adopting butters as their son. so here’s a wholesome lil story about you adopting butters and taking him away from his evil parents :)

The cold, hard rain pounded on the hills of the Colorado Soil. The same little peaceful mountain town you always knew.

You recently had moved here from Denver. Denver was only about an hour away so you could still see your family frequently and they were very close by. You recently had gotten married with your husband Lee Johnson. Lee was a wonderful man and treated you like absolute royalty. All you could’ve ever hoped and prayed for.

You had a nice little cottage a little ways from town. It seemed almost too perfect, a little cottage for you and your husband to spend the rest of your days in.

Except, there was a piece missing.

“I’m sorry Mrs.Johnson, it seems that your eggs are.. infertile.” The doctor spoke softly, laying down his clip board.

The doctor had actually been an old friend of Lee’s, they had gone to school together for a while and became close. His name was Dr. Rick Morrison.

You felt everything in your world absolutely shatter. The world had felt like it stopped turning for a moment.

“What.. no! There has to be a mistake!” You protested, immediately going into denial.

The doctor looked at you with sympathy in his eyes, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do. I know you both were very excited to have children. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to support you both through this.” He looked sad too, and grieved with you.

You thanked him and he hugged you. He was a great man and he always had looked out for you when you needed a check up.

You got in the car and tried to compose yourself. This was not something you easily could recover from.

On the way home, you worried how you were going to break the news to your husband. He was going to be just as, if not more devastated than you are.

You let a few tears slide down your cheek. You were trying so hard to hold it together, gripping tightly onto the steering wheel of you car.

You looked at the picture you had of you and Lee on your wedding day, sitting on the stairs of the local church.

And then to the baby clothes you had bought on sale that your friend was giving away, just in case the miraculous day finally would happen for you too.

You looked up to the sky.

“Why couldn’t it be us?” You questioned, as if asking God why.

You pulled over on the side of the rocky road. There was already one bad thing about today, you didn’t need another to happen.

You let everything out. You screamed, you cried, you hit your dashboard.

You finally had calmed down. You had accepted it. You and Lee would never have a child.

And maybe.. all you needed was eachother after all.

You started the car back up, driving away from the side of the road.

You had entered back into town, a few minutes away from your house.

Just then, you see something that makes your heart lurch.

A small, young boy, huddled next to dumpster.

His head was hung.. almost like he was crying and weeping.

Your flight or fight response set in. What if it was a trap to lure you in? You were a lone woman, after all.

But.. he was so small and frail..

Well.. if you were gonna die, you were gonna die trying to save a child, at least.

You parked your car a little ways back, so you wouldn’t scare him.

You gently closed your car door, making sure that wouldn’t scare him off either.

You finally got to the dumpster, a few feet away from where he was.

He was indeed crying. Sobbing, in fact.

His cries absolutely broke your heart. No little boy should be crying like that.

And then you looked to his body. His body almost seemed lifeless, so emancipated and thin. Like he hadn’t eaten in years.

He looked to be dirty too. His skin was covered in dirt.

You finally mustered up enough courage to speak.

“H-hi there.” You spoke gingerly, not wanting to spook him.

The boy immediately jumped, letting out a scream.

“No, no! I’m not here to hurt you I-I promise!” You defended yourself, throwing your hands up.

He calmed down and looked at you for a minute. He seemed to be.. at ease, almost.

“Who-who are you?” He questioned, curiosity in his voice. He had a light little voice with a touch of a southern drawl.

You stuck out your hand for him to shake. “I’m Y/N Johnson. What’s your name?” You gently smiled, trying to show him it was okay to approach you.

“Uh-uh.. Butters, ma’am. Butters Stotch.” He replied nervously, cautiously taking your hand.

“Nice to meet you Butters,” you smiled at him gently.

“What are you doing out here on a cold rainy night like this?” You sat down in the snow gently next to him.

“My-my parents locked me out of the house. They told me I should never come back. I don’t know what I did.. I was just playing action figures in my room and then my dad came in and slapped me and then my mom told me I was never allowed back in.” He began to cry, the hot tears spilling down his cheeks.

You felt your heart break, a huge pit in your chest. A sweet, precious boy like him should never have to go through something like that.

“Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear that,” you spoke softly.

“Would you like a hug? I know that has to be very scary.” You opened your arms out for a hug, you just wanted to comfort him until he stopped crying.

He finally looked up at you. He was a beautiful little boy. Baby blue eyes, light blonde hair, a small, little button nose, long eyelashes, and a few freckles here and there.

His eyes held so much emotion. You could almost feel like in that moment he finally accepted that you were trying to help him.

“S-sure, Miss.Johnson.” He moved closer to you, wrapping his little arms around you.

You made sure to gently hug him back. He was so thin, you were scared to even touch him.

“Hey.. it’s kind of cold out here and wet.. I have a car parked over there with a heater and I have some stuff I could dry you off with, would you like that?” You looked down at him, he had his little head leaned against your shoulder for support.

He looked up at you with pure innocence in his eyes.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind doing that?” He almost seemed shocked that you would do such a thing to take care of him.

“Of course not.” You smiled back at him.

“Come on. It’s over here.” You stood up gently, him not letting go of you.

You carried him to your car, sitting him in the back. He felt so light.

You took all the baby blankets and clothes you had and tried your best to remember how to swaddle. You also had some towels in your car too so once you had swaddled him with the blankets and clothes, you draped as many towels as you could on him.

“That alright, Butters?” You questioned, looking at him.

He snuggled into the warmth.

“It’s very nice. I’m starting to feel warm again.” He replied.

“Good. Hang tight, okay? I’m going to take you to my house. We have lots of food and a place where you can sleep, okay?” You smiled at him again, buckling him up. You also had a booster seat in you car from when you had babysat your cousin’s kids and she wanted you to have it just in case.

“O-Okay Mrs.Johnson.” He replied softly.

You finally saw a little smile spread across his face.

What a truly angelic sight.

You gently kissed his forehead and got in the driver’s seat.

You dialed up your husband and told him what was going on.

He was ready to help too.

You finally got to your cottage. You carried Butters inside and sat him down on the couch.

You ran a hot bath, with your husband monitoring Butters.

You both helped give him a nice, warm bath, which helped him warm up immensely. He finally was clean too.

But, another sight that broke your heart.

There were scars, littered all over his back. Some big and some small.

You spared a sad glance at your husband, almost with a few tears in your eyes. Your husband shared your sympathy, with him wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

Butters was fast asleep on the couch, under a big, warm, fluffy blanket.

You had given him some warm, fuzzy pajama’s your cousin’s son accidentally left over at your house.

He looked like an absolute angel fast asleep.

Poor thing probably hadn’t slept well in a while.

Your husband had already started the fire, which helped him warm up.

“Well, darling, what do we need to do now? He’s fast asleep and the poor thing probably hasn’t slept in ages.” You looked at your husband, who eyed the boy sadly.

“Do you think he’s hungry? He looks like he hasn’t eaten in a while.” He questioned, looking back at you.

“It’s worth a shot. I’ll go wake up him if you could get the food.” You nodded.

“Done and done, sugarplum.” He kissed your forehead before walking off to the fridge.

You softly put your hand on Butters’ shoulder.

“Butters, sugar, wake up for just a minute.” You spoke softly.

He stirred and fluttered his eyes open.

“Are you hungry?” You smiled, looking into those sweet, innocent blue eyes.

“I am a little.. the last time I ate was right before you found me. I found a bag of 2 half eaten donuts. I figured.. that would have been enough to last me for a little while.” He explained, rubbing his fingers together nervously.

Your heart absolutely broke into pieces for a third time. How long had he been doing this?

“Well, we have some food that you can have. What would you like?” You smiled.

“W-well, I like pancakes.. but it’s 12 in the mornin’.” He rubbed his fingers together nervously again.

“Well sweetheart, we’ll make those for you if you want them. My husband here is actually amazing at making pancakes.” You encouraged, you really wanted him to eat.

“O-okay. If that’s okay with you.” He softly said back.

“Of course, sweetheart. Do you like tv? While he makes those for you we can watch TV together if you want.” You sat next to him.

“Uh.. sure. I like Terrance and Phillip sometimes and sometimes Little Bunny Foo Foo.. (I’m making it a show lol).”

You remembered looking up that show for your cousins you babysit.

“Okay, sweetheart. Let me look that up for you.” You smiled, grabbing the remote.

Yup, exactly as you remembered, channel 444.

“Here you go, Butters.” You smiled, laying down the remote.

“Thanks.. Ma..Ma..” he drifted off back to sleep.

You felt your heart absolutely flutter in delight. You wanted nothing more than to be called Mama. A few tears escaped your eyes.

“You heard that too, right?” You whispered to your husband in the kitchen, who was cooking pancakes in the kitchen.

“I did, baby.” He smiled, serving the pancakes on a plate.

“So what did Rick tell you?” He turned, hugging you from behind.

“Uh.. uh.. yeah.. I was gonna tell you.. before I.. I got back..” you stuttered, afraid of what his reaction was going to be.

“I’m infertile, honey.” You looked up at him, tears threatening to spill again.

He held a shocked expression, but immediately ran to your side and held you.

“I’m here, I’m here baby. We’re going to get through this. I love you.” He repeated, holding you tight.

“I love you too.” You sighed, holding him just as tight.

Butters eventually woke back up and ate, like a wolf that had just caught it’s piece of prey. That poor boy was absolutely starving, but you felt so grateful you could help him eat again.

It was way past his bed time, so you had decided to put him back to sleep on the couch so you could keep an eye on him.

Your husband had gone to bed and asked you to let him know if Butters had any problems. You told him you would keep an eye on him.

Eventually, however, you had fallen asleep, with Butters propped up on your right shoulder.

Morning had come. Butters was reported missing. You wondered how that could work, because his parents had shut him out of his own house.

Eventually, the police had been called to find him. Butters parents had their house investigated and they were questioned thoroughly before being arrested on charges of child neglect, premeditated murder and child abuse.

The next few months, everything began to fall perfectly into place. You and your husband volunteered to foster Butters until he could find a new home. Butters had been eating regularly, had made art for you and your husband to hang on the fridge, and seemed to be getting his personality back.

“Honey, I think it’s time.” Your husband smiled at you, beaming with glee.

You were confused. “Huh?”

“I emailed the foster care place. They said we can come in to sign the adoption papers later today.” He smiled, taking your hands gently.

“R-really? Are you sure? It’s only been about 3 months..” you replied nervously.

“I think we’re more than ready. Look how we’re worked together as a team that night. We’ve waited so long for this and we’re on the brink of it.. do you really want to wait that much longer?” He questioned, care in his voice and his forest green eyes.

You felt determined. That child was going to be yours and your family would finally be complete.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” You grinned at your husband.

You had taken Butters with you too the foster care place, walking up to the front desk.

You signed the papers inconspicuously, making sure Butters didn’t see. You wanted this to be a complete surprise to him.

Once you signed the papers, you thanked the lady at the front desk and went out to the car, but not before a cheerful smile and a “congratulations” was said.

You and your husband smiled to yourselves, but a confused Butters looked at you curiously.

Your husband held Butters while you got his little shirt. You had it in your closet just in case you decided to ever adopt a child.

And lucky you, today was that day.

Butters read the shirt.

“Happy.. Gotcha Day..” he read softly.

He immediately began to tear up.

“Are.. are you my parents now?” He questioned, looking up at you and your husband.

You and your husband both grinned ear to ear.

“That’s right. Welcome to the family, Mr. Butters Stotch Johnson.” Lee smiled, kissing the little boy on his forehead.

“Welcome home, my beloved angel.” You walked up to him, kissing his forehead.

From then on, Butters was the answer to your prayer, the angel sent from the heavens. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. ❤️

[totally-not-here-for-the-smut]

This stuff is LONG and complex, and I’m not a native speaker. Which means, it’s hell, WHY BRAIN GOT NO RIGHT WORDS DAMMIT, but it’s also cool bc I can’t really understand HOW bad it actually is, so I’m less self-demanding about the actual style quality than in my own stupidly demanding language. Let’s get to the content then. I’m so very sorry for my children’s book language-level.

Pls believe that I am, in fact, not a child.

Tw:death, sickness, angst

and this is-

Loved & Lost

A The Arcana prequel fanfic - part 1

When the plague came, it started robbing you right away- it took your aunt and, before eventually claiming your own life, your love.

The wise woman who had been your magic mentor was one of the first to fall ill, as if the pestilence were trying to thin out the ranks of those who could stop it. She felt right away this was not a normal illness. The sickness got slowly the best of her body, as if it wanted to seep unnoticed into the city. Your aunt's body withered a little bit each day, her skin slowly tinging red by the engorged veins, but it never managed to steal her wits until the very end. When she was at last bedridden, she had Asra call for you.

You didn't recall where you were at that time. Your magical training was long completed, and you were travelling the world, scavenging for rare spell components, old scrolls and lost magic to bring home to her and to her new apprentice. You got home just in time.

The woman who was a little sore as you kissed her goodbye all those weeks ago now seemed barely more tangible than a ghost - pale and trembling, her clothes hanging empty from her once proud and graceful shoulder. But her eyes, although now tinted in red, were sharp and stern as they had always been.

You did not show any pity for her -she would never have allowed you to-, but when she took you hand in hers her gentle touch unveiled her deepest nature.

"I'm leaving, child", she told you. "But I need the two of you to stay as much as you can".

She called Asra by her side with a nod.

"I have lived a long life. The time I gave it back has long passed, but now death is catching up to me. Spare your tears and magic for the victims to come" she turn her head to face your friend. His purple eyes were veiled in tears.

"Asra, you're a mage now, your training is almost done. In fact, my nephew took my place as your master some time ago already. She'll be more than capable to fill in the gaps in your knowledge. Soon, you'll be a mage, but" - her eyes went narrow- "I want you to remember that you were took from the streets. Someone cared for you, listened to you, taught you everyone you know. You will have to pass your care on to whoever will need it. This is why I taught you magic". Asra couldn't do anything but nod. His lips parted, pronouncing a promise so feeble you couldn't hear -but your aunt did, and a faint smile showed on her chapped lips.

"Believe me, soon many will need it. But I know you'll both live up the cause. Now leave, I need to rest".

You didn't even take your travelling clothes off - you threw yourself into Asra's arms -now your apprentice's arms- to hold each other through the sorrowful night.

She died shortly after. Many vesuvian would have come to salute her, but you and Asra decided to do hold a more private gathering - you, him, and Faust. The snake was so torn that even her scales seemed to grey. She squeezed one last time your aunt's familiar, a pitch black crane called Hermes, who took flight as soon as the mage's funeral pyre was lit.

You kept your head high and your eyes on the flames, resisting the urge to bury your face on Asra's chest and cry your heart out. Instead, you held his hand tight, grounding yourself into the two things that mattered in that moment: Asra's love, and the promise you both made her - to stay and care for the city.

So, when the plague erupted in Vesuvia and Asra began insisting to leave, your fights became vicious.

✧

I want to really thank @wilson-artisan and @lovely-dove69 for their help as proofreaders. They un-dorked my writing a lot.

I feel that I must pay credit to various writers as well who inspired me: check bakuliwriter's "Hurt", that set ablaze my drama thirst. I can totally see it in the same timeline as this thing.

The other parts will be in te reblogs!

Navigate it from my masterlist

[bohemian-nights]

Favorite AU for Dettles?

Oh gosh, there are honestly so many great au ideas for them. I think my opinion on this fluctuates depending on my mood.

Right now though, because of the Hunger Games resurgence, I really like the idea of mentor Daemon with mentee Nettles.

Like, imagine he’s a bit disheartened by life in general. year after year seeing his mentees die takes its toll.

To top it off, he pulled some trick like Haymitch to win his games which landed him on the president's naughty list. His entire family(including his wife who was pregnant at the time) was murdered as a result. He’s pretty much checked out and self-medicating at this point.

Then Nettles games come along. Just by looking at her, he’s like She’s gonna die within the first couple of minutes if not by the end of the first day. She’s small for her age and clearly malnourished. She’s an orphan, a social pariah(lol she made an enemy which is why she got reaped in the first place), and she’s been crying ever since she’s gotten on the train to the capital.

Lol, the fact that Nettles’ story is already suited for the Hunger Games💀

Her male counterpart(Addam of Hull or Jace who is book!Jace not the wimpy show version) shows some promise. However, he's also very self-sacrificing. Daemon can easily see him trying to help out one of the weaker tributes early on in the games(like Nettles) and losing his life because of it.

He knows they both won’t last long. The career pack is going to make a meal of them if nothing else so why even bother with them?

The career pack includes Ulf and Hugh 🤣 Let’s just say they aren’t the smartest career pack which is partially why Nettles is able to win her games😏 I mean she has some skills, but they made it easier for her.

Addam(or Jace, IDK pick your poison) tries to interact with him and pick his brain, but he’s totally non-receptive. He’s rude and crass. He smells of booze and he keeps bringing up how they are going to die.

Addam: How do we get sponsors?

Daemon: You won’t need sponsors, you’ll be dead from helping her out(points to a crying Nettles who has almost reached her breaking point). There is no we in the arena. That was your first mistake.

Addam: 💀

Nettles:😭😡 I’m not dead yet you drunk🤬

By this point, Nettles has had enough. She understands that she’s not in the best shape. She knows what will happen if she can’t pull herself together. She understands that out of the twenty-four children reaped only one is walking out of there alive.

She knows she’s probably on the lower end of the pack and even though Addam admittedly has better odds than her he is unlikely to win, but she doesn’t want to die. She certainly doesn’t want to die without a fight.

While Daemon is in mid-rant telling Addam all the ways the careers can and will kill them she picks up a knife at her side.

It’s a small thing. A butter knife really. It won’t do much damage, but she doesn’t want it to do damage. She just wants him to stop it and be their mentor, and not see them just see them as if they were already buried six feet under.

So she chucks the knife at his head.

The knife ends up grazing his ear before sticking into the door behind him. A nearby avox flinches. Even Addam is freaking out when Daemon moves his hand up to his ear and pulls it back to reveal a bit of blood on his fingertips.

Nettles is too busy yelling at him to stop attacking like their lives mean nothing to really feel any fear, but he interrupts her when he starts laughing.

He looks her square in the eyes(she almost wants to look away but she holds her ground) and tells her that she needs to work on her aim. She tells him that her aim was fine and that if she meant to hurt him she would’ve aimed for something more vital which only causes him to laugh some more.

They both know that it’s a lie. Nettles did mean to get his attention, but she had not been aiming for him.

It’s not until then that he actually takes notice of her.

Nettles is very small. She needs to get some meat on her bones(he almost immediately starts pilling onto her plate food and telling her to eat). She could surely use some dressing up and training, but she’s not hopeless. She’s got gumption which is more than the tributes before her had.

It’s then that he realizes that the little runt girl just might make it out of this thing alive.

[bangsinc]

I also don't really like the series but I just love scarecrow voice in it. So can you write HC for that version and TBNAT (I think is written like that, idk 😭) for when his so tells him that they're pregnant and how would he be as a father?- 🩷

💀TNBA Scarecrow X Pregnant! Reader🎃

THIS IS SO REAL. He’s only in like 2 episodes but god his voice is so attractive. Also, I’m such a sucker for a pregnant reader, idk, it’s a sweet trope.

Basic warnings since reader is pregnant. Light mention of vomit and stuff but as usual no Nsfw! Well, obviously a mention of being intimate since reader is pregnant.. and like yknow.

Jonathan’s never nessecarly been sentimental, not even twoards his significant other. While he's been open and a shoulder to cry on, he's never experienced the urge to cry himself. That doesn’t mean he’s never had other.. urges.

It doesn’t come as a complete shock (it does) when the news is initially broken. Of course he is happy, but he’s not sure how to express it. If anything, he’s outwardly acting as if this might be a slight issue.. which it is.

Hes thought of having kids with his partner, but given the life he leads that idea manifesting is slim to none. None of his goons are even aware of your existance, he’s keeped the very idea of him ever having a partner tucked away in their feeble minds. You’re too important for him to go around flaunting.

If you two weren’t married, expect him to push a very, very quiet wedding. One or two people, maybe a villian he trusts with this sort of information. He wants this kid, if you want it too.

He hires multiple at home nurses during the 8 months. He keeps them descreet, having them snuck in nearly everyday to assist you the more time goes by. He’s very much there by your side, noticiably not being seen as much by his goons. He can’t just stop doing what drives him, but he loves you too much for you not to be a big priority.

He’s a little more emotionally transparent during the pregnancy. He’s clingy, suprisingly, constantly holding onto you whenever you both are in proximity. Hes created something with you perminantly, you are his now, and of course he’s yours, so he’s pretty much ride or die by now. Not only that, but the fact you were so willingly intimate with him, given his profession and chemically scarred appearance.. he’s never finding another. You’re the only woman that could ever matter to him.

That being said, if he wasn’t already pushing you away from his ‘line of work’, he’s making sure you never even see a single vial of fear toxin. He’s not aware of the effect something such as that could have on you, espically in the state your in. He’s not sure what he would be able to do with himself if you got into an accident.

He’s by your side along with multiple at home nurses when you give birth, holding onto your hand the entire time and not even daring to flinch no matter how hard you squeeze it. He doesn’t have emotion in his voice as he attempts to soothe you, but he is.. happy.

Hes not emotionally distant as a father, but he doesn’t know how to handle children. He keeps basic precautions, such as keeping them away from his lab equipment and fear toxin, but what if his baby is terrified of him?

He’s hired men,,, and payed them rather handsomely to help make a seperate room for the baby to you and his liking. He’s very communicative during this, although he is more driven by what makes you happy.

He can’t exactly play with a baby, either. His leg prohibits a lot of extensive movement, and he’s a bit of an older villian as it is. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to spend time with the kid, far from it. He’s still a villian through and through, but his crimes have gotten less extravagant with all the times he spends assisting you and his kid.

Batman even grows more leniant, noticing that he isn’t actually a terrible dad. He takes his time apprehending Jonathan, and even then he makes sure it’s a possibility for you and him to see eachother with your kid.

He’s not a fun dad, but he loves his kid and you through and through. He’d do anything to protect the both of you, you’re the only people truly connected to him, the only people he actually cares for.

[the1970sdeadgaywizard-regulus]

Snippets (or Chapters

I’m going to give you guys some snippets of my stories, and you can tell me if it seems interesting. Btw all of them are in first person. I also tend to censor words, because of habits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jegulus-following Trans!Regulus and his life.

(after beginning)

“Mother, I’m going to Kings Cross. I’ll pick Sirius up.” I tell my mom.

Walking to Kings Cross was boring, with nothing eventful happening. When I arrive at the station, I see a plethora of families waiting for their children to come back home.

The train pulls into the station, and I watch as students get off the train, looking for their families. I watch carefully, keeping my eye out for Sirius, and I spot him.

“Sirius!” I yell out at him, but he doesn’t answer, he just shakes his head at me and starts to walk towards another family. I walk over to him. “Sirius?” No response, he just talks to the other family. “Siri-“ I’m cut off.

“Why won’t you f*cking leave me alone, Denebola?” I wince as he hisses out my deadname.

I can tell that he notices me wince because his face changes for a split-second.

“Sh*t, sorry Regulus” he says, trying to change what has already been spoken.

I just stay silent, turning my head away so he can’t see me cry.

“Sirius” I hear someone in the family that Sirius is with say, “Please calm down”

“I am bloody calm” Sirius spits out as a reply.

“Well you aren’t acting calm” the person tells my brother.

“James, how the bloody h*ll should I act calm if Regulus responds to my letters, telling me that I am a disappointment just because I am in bloody Gryffindor, and then comes up to me acting like nothing ever happened” my brother fumes.

“Sirius, that doesn’t mean you should f*cking deadname him” I hear the person named James say.

My tears keep flowing, but what the boy said stops me.

“What the h*ll do you know about deadnaming someone James? It’s not like you would know, seeing as you are a cis man” Sirius retorts.

“Sirius, I honestly don’t know what the h*ll is up your a*se, but even if he said that,” the fluffy brown haired boy named James huffs, “deadnaming him certainly isn’t the correct way to get angry at him”

I wipe the tears that are still streaming down my face away as I turn around. This new boy is defending me. Me. The freak who thinks that she is a boy.

“Maybe you and him could solve whatever the h*ll you think he did wrong” James tells Sirius.

I try to chime in, but I am interrupted. 

“James, you think he is going to confess that what he said was wrong” Sirius says angrily

“Sirius” I speak softly, “I didn’t write those letters, heck I didn’t even get any letters from you”

“What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get any letters from you”

Both Sirius and James are looking at me.

“Well that doesn’t make sense, because James watched me send the letters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nyoomtape-following Trans!Sero getting tutored

(a few chapters in)

  When we arrive in my dorm he seems slightly confused by the fact that it isn’t a huge f*cking mess. I sit down on my hammock. My hammock is large enough for two people so I invite him to sit down. He accepts and sits down.

As he explains, it makes some sort of sense in my head. All of a sudden, my brain seems to take half of the information I just earned, and stuffs it into a jar outside.

“I guess that kinda makes sense” I blurt out.

“Only kind of? I am happy to help you with whatever you need help with!” He smiles a genuine smile. Wait, that was an actual smile.

“Oh, uh, it’s just that I can’t seem to keep the math in my brain” I shrug.

“Oh, I could help you out with that if you would like. It’s not like I do much in the evenings.” He informs me, or something like that.

“Oh, you don’t? I thought you hung out with the Dekusquad.”

“Well, I sometimes do, it’s just this week they are all away on a vacation or doing something with their families.”

“Oh. Anyways, how would you help me remember the math?” I ask.

“It’s actually quite simple. You have to do things multiple times to remember them, so if we go over it every night, you'll remember it for exams! I’ll go over it every night with you” he actually informs me.

I groan, “Fine, I guess we should probably do that”

“Okay! Also, is there anything else you need help with?”

“Only Science and English... but science is hard since Eraser Sensei doesn't even teach us... and Mic Sensei is too busy flaunting that he is married to teach us anything good. Other than that I’m good” I smile at him.

He just looks at me blankly

“What?” 

“Well, let’s get started then!” He says.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wolfstar-following Remus as a new student, but starting with a flashback.

(after a flashback)

“JESUS” I sit upright.

“REMUS NO F*CKING CURSING IN THIS HOUSE” my dad calls from downstairs.

“Sorry” I say, quietly.

I’ve been having these dreams for the past six years, and that isn’t even the end of it. Every full moon I turn into a werewolf. 

“REMUS YOU HAVE A LETTER” my dad yells.

“Coming” I respond.

I head downstairs, tripping headfirst. 

“Good morning Remus John Lupin, if you even deserve to be called that” my father blatantly responds, not even hiding his dislike of me.

“Good morning Lyall” I respond, surely making him cringe at the thought of me calling him Lyall, “What about me having a letter?”

“Oh… right, it’s from… uh… just some scam”

Just some scam he says… yeah right, I don’t get letters… I don’t even think scams know that I’m alive, after all Lyall made sure to erase my name from most systems, just by saying that I had died.

“I’ll take it” I say, as I nab the letter from him.

“No need to! I can throw it away” he says.

“I already have it, I’ll just read what is in it”

“No-“ he drags on as I rip into the letter with a H imbedded into a wax stamp.

“REMUS F*CKING LUPIN YOU CAN NOT JUST OPEN THAT WITHOUT PERMISSION!” he screams as I run upstairs, nearly crumpling the letter in my hand.

~Upstairs~

“BLODDY H*LL!” I lock my door to ensure my safety from my dad. What I see inside the envelope shocks me. It is a letter actually addressed to me. On the paper I see letters,to which I assume make up some form of words. My dyslexia kicks into full gear as I attempt to read the letter. I assume it says;

“Dear Mr. R. J. Lupin

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Thagwors School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Term begins September 1st 1971. Please use the entrance located at Kings Cross Station, Downtown London, on platform 9 3/4.

Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival the dates for which shall be duly advised.

Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith

We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation of Rathgows heritage.

Yours Sincerely

Professor Dippet”

I realize that I only have 2 months to get the need materials, and from what I can tell, the name of the school is definitely not Thagwors or Rathgows. I also don’t believe that there is a Platform 9 3/4 at Kings Cross Station, but then again… I could be very wrong.

I reach back into the envelope and feel another letter. As I read over it, I realize I don’t know where to get half of the items on the list. I’ve seen other Wizards and Witches walking around outside our house, but no one in the neighbourhood even notices me when I ask questions. 

“REMUS GET YOUR F*CKING A*S DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW” my dad screams from downstairs.

“Fine Lyall, under the circumstance that you read this letter to me” I, kind of, calmly tell my dear old ‘Dad’.

“Fine” I can hear him roll his eyes.

I trot downstairs after unlocking my door and totally not slamming it shut.