#i’ll savor the moment alright <3

[simplyraeblue]

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first times (shoto todoroki x reader)

ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP femreader x virginshoto you've had a crush on your friend shoto for a long time, and unbeknownst to you he's been crushing as well. not only that, he wants you to be his first time; for everything WARNINGS: swearing, smut, mentions of masturbation, oral (m receiving) •◡ ◠ word count: 3,380 A/N: this will be a 3-4 part story, with each chapter building up in smut levels

part one | part two | part three |

part four | part five

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as the night wound down and the loud laughter and clamor of dares faded into memory, the mess left by the boys was evident throughout your apartment. empty cups, discarded snack wrappers, and other remnants of the evening’s chaos littered the living room. one by one, your friends trickled out, their departure marked by sloppy goodbyes and promises to clean up later.  

Shoto was the last to leave, but instead of heading home, he stayed behind to help you tidy up. the two of you worked in comfortable silence, picking up the trash and putting things back in their places.  

as you were clearing the last of the cups that Kirishima and Kaminari had strewn across the coffee table, Shoto's voice broke the silence. “we didn’t finish our seven minutes,” he said suddenly, causing you to pause and turn to him.  

you gave a small, tired laugh. “technically, we did. we went well over the seven minutes, in fact.” you resumed picking up the cups. silently grateful that Bakugo had been persuaded to drive Kirishima and Kaminari home. 

Shoto, now standing next to you with a thoughtful expression, asked, “truth or dare?” 

you put down the trash bag you were holding and placed your hands on your hips. “truth.” 

“did you enjoy our kiss?” Shoto’s eyes were earnest as he awaited your response. 

“yes,” you replied, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. “truth or dare?” 

“truth,” Shoto said. 

“did you enjoy our kiss, Shoto?” you asked, returning his earnest gaze. 

“yes,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. “truth or dare?” 

“truth,” you said again. 

Shoto almost pouted. “no, pick dare. i have something in mind already, and you picking truth won’t work.” 

you chuckled at his display of frustration. “alright, fine. i’ll switch to dare.” 

“i dare you to let me kiss you again,” Shoto said, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and anticipation. the weight that had settled on his chest since earlier in your room seemed to lift with his confession. throughout the evening, as he chose dare each time on the off chance he could kiss you again, he had participated in various childish dares with this one goal in mind.  

Shoto didn’t give you a chance to respond; instead, he gently cupped your face in his hands and pulled you closer. the sudden proximity made your breath catch in your throat, and your heart raced with a thrilling mix of anticipation and nervousness. as Shoto leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, you felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and longing that made you wish you could dissolve into his embrace. 

with a growing sense of confidence, Shoto guided you backward towards the couch, his lips never leaving yours. he maneuvered you both down onto the cushions, the kiss deepening as he settled beside you. this was a moment he had yearned for over a year, each time you worked together as pro heroes, his feelings only intensifying. he was determined to savor every second of this long-awaited connection. 

for you, the kiss felt like a puzzle finally coming together. it encapsulated everything you had felt from the moment you first recognized your crush on him, to the countless times you had called Mina, gushing about his small gestures and acts of kindness. now, it had culminated in this perfect, intimate kiss. 

the kiss was tender and gentle, embodying everything you had hoped for. Shoto’s touch was delicate, as if he were handling something incredibly precious. his lips moved against yours with a natural grace, fitting together like they were made specifically for this moment. 

after a few blissful seconds, Shoto pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. you slowly opened your eyes to meet his gaze, and he could feel his heart swelling with affection. the warmth in your eyes told him that you saw him as more than just a hero, more than just Endeavor’s son.  

“so,” Shoto said, his voice soft but filled with curiosity, “when you talked about the bases earlier, you left one out.” 

you felt a deep blush spread across your cheeks as you realized what he was hinting at. “home base, right?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “i left it out because it’s... a significant step. it means going all the way with someone.” 

“making love,” Shoto said, his tone thoughtful. 

“yes, making love,” you confirmed, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. the way he spoke the words made the whole concept feel even more profound and intimate. it wasn’t fucking, or having sex, it was making love in his eyes.  

“how would that go?” Shoto asked, his question causing a warm flush to spread across your body. the thought of the next step made your heart race. 

“well,” you began, your voice wavering slightly as you fidgeted with your hands in your lap, “it would start with what we’re doing now, this closeness and intimacy. then, it would naturally progress to... more intimate things, like touching each other in more private places.” 

Shoto’s eyes darkened with an intense, sincere gaze as he said, “i would like to touch you elsewhere.” the boldness of his statement made your heart leap into your throat. did he fully understand the implications of what he was suggesting? 

“we can take things slowly, if that’s what you really want,” you offered, trying to steady your voice and manage your racing thoughts. 

“i’ve received plenty of advice from the guys,” Shoto said, his tone tinged with uncertainty. 

you chuckled softly, shaking your head at the absurdity of it. “okay, maybe don’t take all the advice those guys give you too seriously. they can be a bit... over the top.”  

Shoto’s earnest expression did not waver. “are you being serious about this?” you asked, wanting to be absolutely certain. 

he nodded; his gaze unwavering as he looked at you with deep sincerity. you couldn’t help but smile softly at him. “and you... want your first time, for everything, to be with me? not someone else you might consider more special?” 

“no one is more special to me than you,” Shoto replied earnestly, his heart pounding in his chest. he had discussed all the right questions with Midoriya, seeking advice on how to recognize true feelings and when the time was right. once he had his answers, he knew deep down that there was no one else he wanted to share these moments with. for him, you were everything. 

you drew in a deep breath, your cheeks flushed with the weight of his confession, the seriousness of the moment settling over you. "come with me," you said, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions. gently, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. with a purposeful but tender grip, you guided him away from the couch and towards the bedroom. 

once inside, you led him to sit on the edge of the bed, and he complied, his expression attentive and earnest. you took a moment to gather your thoughts, then spoke, your voice firm but reassuring. "i want to set some ground rules before we go any further. i’m going to ask for your consent before i do anything, and i’ll make sure to tell you exactly what i plan to do. if at any point something makes you feel uncomfortable, you need to let me know immediately. and if you ever want to stop, we stop, no questions asked." 

Shoto nodded, his gaze meeting yours with a look of understanding. "that all sounds fair," he said, his tone serious but calm. "where do we begin?" 

you sat down beside him on the bed, your hands instinctively resting over your chest as you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. the excitement was almost palpable, making it hard to focus. "kiss me," you said softly, your eyes locked onto his. "right now, just do what feels right for you." 

to your surprise, Shoto’s lips crashed into yours much more forcefully than last time, like he was needier. and he was; if the dare hadn’t been erupted earlier, he wouldn’t have been able to slow himself down. he was touch-starved, a man hungry for more, and he wanted you.  

as he deepened the kiss, you heard the soft moan he let loose, sending heat washing through your body. with his lips parted, you took the chance to gently caress the roof of his mouth with your tongue. he practically melted at the action, leaning further into you.  

you continuously had to remind yourself that this was Shoto, someone who deserved tenderness and love, not just a way to get yourself off. but the way his hands were now gripping your waist and sending hot and cold sensations through your skin… it was driving you wild.  

for a moment, you pulled away, seeing his eyes still closed with his brows furrowed. “for someone who hasn’t done this often, you are very good at making out, Sho.” you tell him while trying to catch your breath. 

“what’s next?” he asked.  

your eyebrows raised in amusement. “what’s the rush?”  

“i’ve been imagining this for a long time, y/n.” when Shoto’s eyes connected with yours, you saw that his pupils were blown out, filled with a deeper desire than you could’ve imagined inside of him. 

while Shoto didn’t show any nervousness, you felt it growing more and more. you usually weren’t one to be shy, but right now everything felt different.  

“if you want to, we can touch each other while we kiss.” you tell him. “anywhere.”  

Shoto placed his hands further up your torso, looking at you for permission before you nodded. he leaned in to meet your lips again, feeling adrenaline rush through him. the feeling he got from kissing you was enough to drive him insane, an emotion he had never felt before beginning to build.  

your hands drifted from his neck to his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palms. as you allowed your hands to lazily travel further down, his traveled further up, settling on your ribs and just below your breasts. when his thumb traced the line of your bra, you embarrassingly let out a moan, but to Shoto, it sounded like music to his ears. he took the chance to deepen the kiss, allowing his tongue to enter you and caress yours.  

“Sho.” you murmured, breaking away for a moment to catch your breath.  

“tell me what to do.” his voice came out hoarse and low, and his eyes pierced yours with a fierce determination.  

“you’re making it really hard for me to take this slow for you.” you laughed nervously, your body trembling under his gaze.  

“then don’t take it slow.”  

you blinked a few times, trying to register his words, hoping to kickstart your brain into high gear to figure out what to do. “Sho...” you breathed lowly. 

“i trust you.” Shoto interrupted, placing his hand over the one you had on his chest. “take the lead. please.” 

with his plead, the fire within you burned hotter than ever, and you quickly moved to straddle him on the bed as your lips connected with his once more. this time, he kissed you back feverously, like he felt the same hunger you did.  

“are you sure?” you asked, wanting to double check... maybe even triple check... that he wanted to do this. he nodded into your shoulder, a muffled mph coming from his mouth.  

the time passed by quickly, and the kiss grew until you couldn’t take it anymore. you wanted to show him what it felt like to feel pleasure, even downright damn euphoria. selfishly, you wanted to feel it too. you moved from his lips before starting to litter kisses along his jaw and down his neck, working your way down as your hands fidgeted with the bottom of his t-shirt. when he sensed what you were trying to do, he quickly pulled his shirt over his head, almost making you gasp at the sight. 

his body could’ve been the work of a god.  

before you let yourself get flustered, you continued to pepper kisses in a trail from his neck, down his torso. with each kiss, you could hear his breath stuttering. “tell me something, Sho.” you whispered against his skin. “have you ever... touched yourself?” 

you looked up to find Shoto’s face turned pink, but he nodded in answer.  

“y-yes.” he stammered out. Shoto didn’t want to admit to you that he’d never done such a thing until he’d met you, until he’d realized what his feelings meant. he felt dirty thinking about those nights, when you’d visit him in a dream, and he’d wake up to a feeling in his stomach and an erection he needed to solve.  

“good boy.” you smirked up at him, and he could’ve imploded just from the look. he could only watch with anticipation as you worked to remove his belt, then undo the clasp on his pants. “i’m going to touch you here, like you’ve done yourself. is that okay?”  

again, he could only muster a nod in response. you gently pulled on his pants, dragging them down to his ankles and only leaving his boxers behind. you could see the growing erection under the fabric, and the thought of what was underneath made your mouth water. 

before you removed the fabric, you let you palm lay flat across his erection, sliding up it ever so gently. Shoto barked out a moan, and you felt pleased with yourself.  

“tell me to stop if you need me to.” you told him, but with his breathing already labored from one touch you doubted he would speak up.  

you placed a soft kiss on the top of the fabric, feeling his cock twitch underneath at the contact.  

as if on pure instinct, Shoto’s hand went to your head, working his fingers into your hair. he didn’t know what had driven him to do such a thing, but it felt right.  

with his apparent eagerness, you hooked a finger under the band of his boxers before tugging, sucking in a breath once his cock was released from the fabric. of course, shoto was beautiful, it made sense that his cock would be too.  

you felt a warmth pooling in your stomach, travelling down to wet between your legs. you lightly tapped his thigh, getting his attention and having him look down at you before you gently licked a stripe from the base of him to the top.  

his fingers gripped your hair, not so rough, and he hissed. fuck, his friends never told him it felt this good. every primal instinct inside of Shoto was screaming at him to pull your mouth down onto his cock and stuff your face. it took all his strength to restrain himself from fear of hurting you.  

“that f-feels...” Shoto stopped mid-sentence when you pressed your tongue flat against his tip.  

“talk to me, Sho.” you whispered, kissing his already leaking tip and taking his precum into your mouth.  

“don’t stop.” he whined, his hand fisting in your hair tighter than before.  

having Shoto beg in front of you sent dirty, wicked thoughts straight to your brain. you’d never walked someone through sex before, let alone something you deemed as simple as a blowjob, but seeing him coming undone before you drove you feral. 

you were done with the little kisses and licks you’d been giving him, finally deciding to take him fully. he watched with half lidded eyes as you opened your mouth and eased his tip past your lips, using your tongue to caress circles around it. Shoto’s head dipped back in pleasure, leaving you to take in more of him. 

fuck, you hadn’t realized how big he’d actually be. you struggled to lower your mouth over his cock, before you finally felt it hit the back of your throat. Shoto moaned at the feeling of his tip touching your throat. as gentle as he could, he bucked into your mouth, wanting to feel more. 

“holy shit, y/n.” he breathed, trying to keep his body from spasming out of control. the feeling of you taking him was delicious, and it was making his head swim. if he hadn’t been on the bed already, Shoto swore he might’ve passed out from pleasure. 

you worked your mouth up and down, slowly at first, to get all of him wet with your spit. with each bobbing motion you made, more moans spilled from Shoto’s lips. you could feel him twitching in your mouth every time your tongue stroked his leaking tip.  

to give your jaw a break, you pulled your mouth off him with a satisfying pop before letting your hands replace where you were. it took two hands, but with the saliva you’d left behind and his precum dripping, you stroked him gently, working his cock between your hands.  

“i feel hot all over.” Shoto murmured, one hand still on your hair while the other gripped at the sheet.  

“is this what you feel when you touch yourself?” you asked, looking up at him as he panted with every stroke. 

“y-yes. if you don’t stop, i think i might...” he moaned, breaking up his sentence, when you swiped your thumb over the soft spot between his shaft and tip.  

“cum for me, like you do when it’s your hand and not mine.” you instructed, before taking his tip back into your mouth but letting your hands work up and down his shaft, picking up your pace. 

Shoto began to thrust more wildly, unable to stop himself from almost fucking your face. a coil had formed in his stomach, and it was so close to being released. when he’d done this himself, it was pleasurable, but only a means to an end to solve an erection. now, what you were doing to him felt like heaven, your mouth a soft and warm rapture.  

he felt that heat in his stomach grow hotter and hotter, until it felt like it was burning. Shoto gripped your hair in his hand, lifting his hips to drive his cock until he felt the back of your throat, and only then did he feel that band within him snap. he let loose a load moan as he saw stars, shooting his cum deep into your throat and watching as you took every drop, gazing up at him with beautiful eyes.  

when he started to come down from his release, you pulled your mouth off his cock, licking up the last dribbles of cum before placing a gentle kiss on his tip. “how was that, Sho?” you asked, your face flush as you looked up.  

sweat gleamed on Shoto’s forehead and torso, his breathing heavy but his smile unwavering. that familiar grin, the one that made your heart skip a beat, was fixed on you. 

instead of speaking, he cupped your face in his hands, pulling you gently towards him. his lips met yours in a kiss that was both passionate and tender. between kisses on your lips, cheeks, and neck, Shoto panted out, “that was amazing. you’re amazing.” 

you laughed softly into his mouth, your cheeks flushing at the compliment. “i’m glad you feel that way,” you replied, your voice warm and affectionate. 

as you both caught your breath, Shoto settled you onto his lap and ran his fingers through your hair. his voice was a gentle murmur as he nuzzled into your neck. “as much as i want you to show me more, i’m struggling to keep my eyes open,” he said softly. you chuckled, understanding his exhaustion.  

“let’s get some sleep, okay?” you kissed his forehead, before helping him to stand from the bed.  

as you changed into comfortable pajamas, Shoto merely pulled his boxers back on before climbing into your sheets, snuggling comfortably into one of your pillows. you climbed under the covers next to him before he pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your waist and having your back pressed against his chest.  

“show me more tomorrow.” Shoto whispered, kissing your shoulder before letting his head sink into the pillow. 

you blushed, but gave a lazy mhm in response, settling in comfortably next to him.  

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Link to Bakugo x reader here

(word count: 2,328)

Link to Kirishima x reader here

(word count: 902)

[silhouetteonpaper]

Breaking Up or Breaking Down?

Summary: What was supposed to be a two week ‘vacation' has now lasted two months. Your girlfriend is waiting excitedly at the airport for your return, yet you’re not looking forward to it in the slightest. What happens when you’re forced to return and face your past, and even worse—your girlfriend? Wanda Maximoff x Reader WC: 2,813 Warnings: Mentions of killing, death, lots of anxiety, panic attacks, angst for daysss A/N: Thank you so much for 100 followers! I appreciate everyone that has read my work or interacted with my blog! <3 Have the best day and/or night ;)

“I’ll meet you at baggage claim, and don’t bring the whole team. I just want to see you, okay?” You instruct Wanda on the other end of the phone as you wait in line to board your flight. After a two month long trip, you’re finally going back to the compound.

Not because you were on some long mission that recently ended, you’ve simply been taking a break from Avenging to reconnect with your family out of state. Unfortunately, the much needed vacation time has come to an end, although you can’t help but feel excited to see the smiling face waiting for you back in New York.

Much to Wanda’s dismay, you chose to take a break after a specifically stressful mission. She tried to convince you to stay and work it out together, but every time you would look into her light green eyes you saw destruction. Not because of her actions, but rather your own. She saw the person you could be in face of a challenge, and it’s someone you hope never resurfaces again.

Feeling slightly anxious at your return, Wanda is already there to ease any nerves. “Of course. I know you’re nervous, but I know you can do this. We can do this together. I’ll see you soon, have a safe flight. I love you.”

You smile sadly into the phone, knowing at the end of the day she only wants the best for you. “I love you too, bye for now.” After hanging up, you’re already near the front of the line. It took a lot of convincing to ride home on a commercial airline instead of the jet, but you wanted to drag out this break as far as it’d go. Wanda, on the other hand, was eager to get it over with.

For once, you hope the flight takes longer than expected. You’re not worried to see the team, or to live back at the compound. You’re worried that all you’ll be able to see is death. All of your mistakes, errors, and forgotten victims from past missions. Each instance follows you around at the compound, like you’re stuck trailing around blood for the rest of your life.

By the time you pull yourself out of your thoughts, the plane is already landing. You internally curse yourself for not savoring the moment, but there’s barely any time to dwell on it as the rush of passengers begin to deplane.

You drag out every moment possible, from letting those around you deplane first, stopping in the restroom to splash cold water on your face, to walking extra slow toward baggage claim. But the large moving glass doors can’t hide what’s waiting for you out in the promenade—nothing can hide that large of a group.

The entire team of Avengers stands eagerly in the open area, gaining quite a few stares from onlookers. They aren’t in costume, but they sure do look out of place. You sigh defeatedly, knowing you explicitly asked Wanda to come alone.

It’s too late to turn back as the glass doors swing open and everyone catches sight of you. All the wind is knocked out of your lungs when each member takes turns hugging you tighter than before. The only person you care about seeing right now is at the very back, giving you an ‘I know,’ expression while glancing between the cohort of team members.

“I tried to keep them home, I really did.” Wanda says, and you can’t help but chuckle. You hesitate as she leans in, but ultimately let her kiss you softly. You aren’t going to reject her in front of all your closest friends.

“It’s alright, I know they’re an insistent bunch.” You glare playfully at everyone as Wanda grabs your suitcase.

“We missed having you around. It’s weird not seeing you every night when I go to bed, and every morning when I wake up.” Wanda smiles lovingly at you, but she can see you’re not reciprocating the expression. “Hey, everything okay?”

You only nod, forcing a slight smile as the group treads toward the large van. It’s impossible not to feel Wanda’s lingering uneasiness, but thankfully she swallows it in the presence of everyone else. A part of you feels bad for not being as excited as her, but you can’t really help it.

The van ride home is quick, yet somehow seems to feel longer than your entire trip combined. Everyone asks a million questions, to which you throw out vague answers in hopes they’ll die down with the interrogation. They don’t, but your sprinkle of ‘it was great!’ and ‘my mom is doing well’ seems to hold them over.

That’s when the large white-walled concrete building comes into view, making your heart drop. The same walls that hold your past successes and failures. Wanda nudges your arm as the car is put into park, and you realize you’re not moving.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” She questions with that same concerned expression. You nod, taking a deep breath.

“We’ll talk about it later.” You answer, managing a small smile. Wanda returns it, but the worried look on her face still remains. While the team fights over who gets to take your suitcase inside, you can’t help but gawk at the tall building before you.

Not because of the incredible architecture, but because of what it means to you. Lives lost in battle, destroyed cities, all in the palm of your hand. It was all in your control, and you failed every single one of those victims.

A part of you almost feels like the break wasn’t warranted, like you needed to spend all those hours fixing everything you broke. But the team agreed with your original venture and pushed you to go home for a bit. It was obvious you were struggling, and they all knew it was best for you to take a step back—just for a couple weeks. That’s when two weeks turned into three, and three turned into eight.

But none of that matters now that you’re back. No matter how much you’ve tried to put it off, it was inevitable you’d have to face the music at some point. Whether that means breaking things off with Wanda, or attempting another vacation home, you aren’t quite sure. You try to pull yourself together while the entire team guides you inside.

Nothing has changed in two months, not like you were expecting it to—but maybe you’d hoped the feeling would. It’s hard to shake the pit in your stomach, and not even Wanda’s arm linked in yours seems to soothe it.

After the team finally leaves you to unpack in your room, you can’t help but feel the encroaching dread. You’re fine, this is your home now—remember? You can’t hurt anyone at the compound. You try to convince yourself, but it has little effect. Who’s to say you can’t hurt your friends, or worse—the person you love most?

As if right on cue, there’s a soft knock on your door. Wanda reveals herself before you respond. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know if you wanted me to wait or-“

“No, no,” You cut her off. “You’re always welcome in here, Wanda. That hasn’t changed.” She smiles, sitting on your bed while watching you put your folded clothes away.

“So, what has then?” Her question is sudden, and makes you raise a brow.

“Hm?” You’re not quite sure what she’s insinuating, although you have a hunch. One you’re hoping isn’t true.

She gives you that same worried look you’re getting sick of. “Somethings up with you, what’s going on? You can talk to me.” Wanda pastes on a sad smile. You know she means it, and a part of you feels terrible for brushing her off before. She cares, but all you know how to do is isolate yourself.

“Two months is a lot of time off, I think I’m just a little worried about getting back into the swing of things.” You lie. Wanda takes the bait though; suddenly she’s on her feet at your side, her arms caressing yours.

“I have no doubt you’ll feel back to normal in no time. Plus, I’m right here if you need absolutely anything. Okay?” She stares at you with those damned green eyes.

You nod, letting a shy smile creep on your face. “Okay.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you can start training with me again tomorrow.” You resist the urge to groan at her words, and instead nod. She kisses you once more before leaving with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen—and suddenly, you realize keeping up this facade will be a lot harder than you originally thought.

By the time your 7:00 am alarm blares, you’re already wide awake after a restless night. The recurring memories playing over and over in your head refused to rest—leaving you not only exhausted physically, but also mentally.

With a sigh, you get dressed into your usual workout attire. On your trip back home, you would spend countless hours going for runs, not thinking twice about missing combat training. The temporary feeling of freedom helped you escape from all of your problems; it gave you the agency to leave. But at the end of the day, it was just that: temporary. Now your exercise will have to consist of the usual Avengers training sessions, the ones you attended nearly four times a week two months ago. How did you put up with that? The idea of training that often sounds torturous, but it’s evident things have changed a lot in only a few months' time.

You slip into the gym discreetly, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention. Training silently for ninety minutes, then leaving without a trace. But your attempt is easily foiled as Wanda spots you in mere seconds. “Good morning love!”

Painting on a smile, you let her kiss you. “Morning.”

“How’d you sleep?” She asks with an unwavering grin. You tilt your head side to side, choosing to keep your restless night to yourself.

“I slept alright. I’m ready to train though!” Her attention is quickly taken as she moves to work on target practice with Steve. You can’t help but laugh as she waves her red orbs of energy around him, stealing his weapons or pushing him back and forth.

Eventually you find yourself in front of a punching bag, the idea slightly more appealing then standing around awkwardly. As much as you used to like training, there’s no part of you interested now. Looking at the black hanging target, your mind tries to play tricks. The bag suddenly looks like a body—a life that each punch quickly steals.

No. You can’t think of it that way, you’ll only make things worse. You can’t run, you have to face the truth. Your mind starts to contort, each thought turning against you as every punching bag shape-shifts into a human life lost.

It’s all your fault! You killed them all! How can you live with yourself? You’re not a hero. You should’ve stayed home, you should’ve never come back here.

“Love?” The sweet sound of your partner’s voice makes you flinch back into the present. You suddenly realize you’re not standing in front of the punching bag, but rather curled up on the floor… and now you can’t help but feel embarrassed. “Hey, breathe. You’re alright.”

Wanda shoos off the rest of the team, wanting to give you space yet refusing to do so herself. She kneels down beside you, placing a hand atop your knee as you fully come back to reality. The first thing you see is her bright green eyes, filled to the brim with her signature worry. “What’s really going on?”

Shit. You could try to cover your breakdown, but it’s easy to tell your excuse from earlier won’t hold up with someone as empathetic as Wanda. You glance back and forth between her and the team training, which gives her the cue you want to go somewhere more private. She nods, helping you up and leading you toward the empty living room.

You take shallow breaths as Wanda scoots close beside you, the idea of spilling the entire truth extremely daunting. Of course you want to share everything with Wanda, yet you can’t help but think she’ll find a way to blame herself—or worse—she’ll agree with you.

Even though one side of your mind pictures you as a loving partner to Wanda, the other half sees you as a heinous monster. Quite the contrast, and it’s forcing you to quickly switch between both sides to find any sign of an answer; who are you?

Sure, you’re a superhero—or were two months ago, at least. But not without tribulations. The destruction left in your path surely can’t be described as hero-like, yet no one has questioned it but yourself. Does that make you the only imposter?

“You still with me, love?” Wanda pulls you out of your thoughts again, a caring hand placed back on your knee. Finally meeting her eye contact, you see the warmth underneath the freckled green. She cares, and it’s time you let her in. If not for yourself, for her sake.

“I’m still with you…but I shouldn’t be.” You start, getting a raised eyebrow from Wanda. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Now it’s Wanda’s turn to take a hesitant breath. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?” She’s running through her mind for any possible reason right now, but is left at a blank. She knew you left for your vacation struggling, but from your various phone calls it sounded like you were doing better. Her satisfaction broke down quickly when you came back from your hiatus with such an unusual demeanor.

“I shouldn’t be an Avenger. I shouldn’t even be living at the compound. Being back here after my vacation has proved everything I feared.” You voice, Wanda’s expression fixed on yours.

In your stead of silence, she tries to get more out of you. “And what’s that?”

Another deep breath. “I’m a villain more than I’m a hero.” There’s more silence as Wanda’s eyes shift to the ground. You can almost feel her heart beating. Does she agree? Her hand remains on your knee, thumb slowly moving up and down.

“Is this about your last mission?” She asks, finally meeting your gaze again. You shrug.

“It’s about everything. Whenever I’m trying to save lives, so many others have to pay the price. Maybe a city is saved from an invading army, but all that’s left is death and destruction.” The overwhelming urge to cry rises in your throat, but only a tear is able to escape.

Wanda moves even closer, grabbing both of your hands with hers. “I know there’s so many negatives you’re telling yourself right now, but I need you to listen to me, okay?” You nod ever so slightly before she continues. “Remember when we were in France during the invasion, and there was a group of students that strayed from their school? You sat with them for hours, playing games and running around—trying to shield them from the fight a few blocks down. A villain wouldn’t do that.”

You hear her, but the words mean nothing. It was one time, one moment—and during that same fight, hundreds of civilians died. You could’ve prevented that. You should’ve. “Hey, don’t get lost in your thoughts again yet, I’m not finished.” Wanda speaks softly, and you can’t help but smile at how well she knows you.

She can tell nothing will get through to you in your current state. There’s only one thing that will benefit you right now: the truth. “The bottom line is, all of that’s in the past. You can’t change it, but you can shape your future. You don’t have to be an Avenger, but I’ll be damned if I let you work for the other side.” 

The full truth is, you’ve never thought about it this way. Nothing is stopping you from retiring as an Avenger, but what would that mean for you and Wanda? She’s the reason you came back to the compound, the reason you could never fully isolate yourself. And you’re now realizing just how grateful you are for that; there’s no way you could ever break up with her.

“I don’t know what I want to do… but I do know whatever I choose, I want to do it with you.” You voice, watching Wanda’s concerned look turn warm. “I’m sorry for all of this, I really-“

“No,” She interrupts, moving a hand to your cheek. “Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to be unsure, you’re allowed to feel.” You both wear a matching smile, and suddenly—you feel confident that everything can work out, regardless if you’re an Avenger or not. Because at the end of the day, you’ll always have Wanda.

[lilacs-honey]

For regulus x potter reader maybe write something about how regulus shows up to the potters in the middle of the night like how Sirius did and he only asks for the reader bc he’s very upset but they didn’t want to make their relationship public so James is like wtf

Name: Safety

Pairing: Regulus Black x Fem!Potter!Reader

Fluff

Warnings: secret relationship, language, written during 3 separate 12 am writing sessions, kinda bad ending, possible inaccuracy, Regulus and Sirius’ parents :(, crying, use of Y/n, running away

Notes: I love the requests you sent in they are both beautiful and make me want to burst into tears right on spot. I hope you enjoy! 💕

“Alright kiddos,” My dad groans as he gets up from his spot on the couch, “I’m gonna go to bed. You can stay up a bit longer but, please, don’t cause harm to anything, okay?”

“Yeah, James, no more fires,” I quip, jokingly scowling at my older brother.

“That was one time!” James cries, obviously offended.

“I’m talking to you too, Y/n Potter, you both bring chaos into this house and I’m not looking to put out another fire at 3 in the morning,” Dad replies as he exits the room.

I turn to James and then look towards the pile of board and card games that we’ve collected over the years, “Uno?” I ask.

“Obviously,” He answers with a smirk.

---

“Oh! You bitch!” James yells as I set down a wild draw four, forcing him to add 4 more cards to his 18 others.

knock... knock... knock... A rap sounds from the front door making both of our heads turn, who could be here at this time of night?

“I’ll get it,” James sighs as he stands up. “Grab your wand in case it’s a murderer and I need backup.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics, but grab my wand from the side table nonetheless. These days you never know who could be lurking around the corner.

In the entryway, the front door creaks, and I hear James exclaim with a strange amount of abhorrence in his tone, “What are you doing here?”

The voice that follows makes me stand up and I have to physically restrain myself from running straight toward it. I, instead, creep to the door overhearing every strained word, “I just need to see Y/n. I have to see her, please.”

I turn the corner to see Regulus Black standing on the covered porch with tear-stained cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He looks at me and his eyes light up, like a child receiving candy. He steps forward but stops himself from going any further obviously contemplating whether or not he should step in.

“Regulus? Are you okay?” I ask, rushing over to him and grabbing his face with both hands, searching for any sign of harm. He sets his hand onto one of my own and leans his forehead against mine. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, seemingly relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I just can’t do this without you,” He says as his voice quivers.

“It’s alright, lovey,” I reply, moving the hand he isn’t holding to run my fingers through his curls. “You can always come to me and I will be there, I promise.”

I lean in and kiss his lips savoring every second of the closeness. When we separate, I move to pull him into a long hug, his body is tense but melts into mine. It may be cliche but it feels like it’s only the two of us at this moment, unfortunately, it is not. James clears his throat and inquires, “What the fuck is happening?”

I separate from Regulus and step in front of him watching James shut the front door and walk back to the living room. We follow and observe him as he drops himself onto the couch and runs a hand over his face. James utters, “Well, are either of you going to explain, or do I just have to assume?”

“Well,” I begin, nervous for James’s reaction, “Regulus and I have been- well… dating for the past year or so.”

James opens his mouth as I try to speak but immediately closes it again, he repeats the cycle until he states, “Okay. Why are you here then, Black?”

“I, uh, it got really bad at Grimmauld Place earlier,” Regulus replies, looking down towards his feet. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Where’s Sirius?” James asks quickly, more worried about his best friend than anyone else.

“I don’t know, he didn’t come home last night, he only left behind a note that said, ‘later bitches’. They didn’t believe me when I told them I don’t know where he went,” Regulus answers grimly, I grab his hand when I notice his eyes start watering.

“Alright, don’t think we’re done talking about this, because we’re not, but I’m gonna go look for Sirius. Get him some tea or something and don’t be gross, I’ll be back soon,” James sighs and runs to the fireplace. Regulus and I observe as he grabs a handful of Floo powder and steps in. He slams the powder down and exclaims an address then immediately disappears leaving behind only ash and green flames.

I sit down on the couch with Regulus and bring him into a big bear hug, knowing he didn’t like initiating affection but needed some for the moment. He buries his face into my neck and breathes in deeply. I feel hot tears slowly drip onto my skin but I do nothing but move a hand up to his curls.

“Thank you for being here,” Regulus mumbles.

I respond, “I will always be here, my love for you is eternal.”

He leans back looking me in the eyes, “I will forever love you, Y/n. You are the stars in my galaxy.” I look into his red-rimmed, glossy eyes smiling at him. He chuckles, “If he wasn’t so worried about Sirius, James would be kicking my ass right about now.”

“I hope that he would keep the ass-kicking to a minimum,” I laugh, knowing the worst James would do is ignore me for a few hours until giving up because he got bored. “Besides I’d save you from him.”

“Would you now?” He entertains, life coming back to his features as we talk.

“Of course, I love you too much to let you be ended by, James, of all people.”

“Merlin, what are we going to do?” Regulus groans, “By the time they get here Sirius and James will have decided whether they will speak to us ever again.”

“We will do what we’ve been doing this entire time, this is none of their business,” I quip, “Besides, you’re staying here from now on whether they like it or not.”

“Really?” He questions, “Can I?”

“Of course, I’ll talk to my mom and we’ll sort it out. You will never have to go back there again,” I reply, strength filling my words.

I don’t ask what happened that night, but based on the past I can infer what he’s been through. If I can help it, I will never Regulus go through that again.

I never did.

[moonselune]

I love your writings so much.. I’ve never sent requests before- but may I ask for some soft Karlach with Tav? 😭😭 Or anything Karlach… you just do her justice every single time, thank you!!

I think we all need some soft Karlach in our lives <3 thank you so much for your love and support xox

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach x reader | Never again, babe!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The camp was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, the warmth of the evening light filtering through the trees and casting long shadows on the ground. The day had been unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of traveling and adventuring. You had taken the opportunity to relax at camp, organizing supplies and enjoying the rare moment of stillness.

You were sitting near the campfire, a small smile playing on your lips as you tended to some small tasks. The peace of the evening was a welcome change, and you were savoring the solitude.

Suddenly, the calm was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. Before you could react, Karlach burst into view, her expression a whirlwind of relief and frustration. Her armor was scuffed from the day's battles, and her usually fiery demeanor was now tinged with an exaggerated sense of drama.

Without a moment's hesitation, Karlach ran straight into you, tackling you to the ground with a force that left you gasping in surprise. You landed on the soft grass, her weight pinning you down as she wrapped her arms around you in an enthusiastic embrace.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of relief and exasperation. “I’ve missed you so much! You wouldn’t believe what a nightmare today was.”

You looked up at her, trying to suppress a chuckle as she clung to you.

“Karlach, what happened?” you asked, your tone a mix of concern and amusement. Karlach’s face was flushed with a combination of fatigue and emotion, her eyes wide as she began to recount her day in dramatic detail.

“Oh, where do I even start?” she began, her voice rising with each complaint. “First, Gale wouldn’t stop lecturing me about the importance of magical theory. As if I have time for that when I’m out there fighting!” You could see the frustration etched on her face as she continued. “And Lae’zel and Shadowheart were bickering non-stop! It was like two rabid animals fighting over a bone.”

She buried her face into your shoulder, her voice muffled but still filled with intensity. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I was so ready to come back to camp, and now I find you’re here alone, without me. It’s like everything fell apart without you!”

You ran your hands soothingly over her back, feeling the tension in her muscles as she clung to you.

“I’m sorry, Karlach,” you said softly trying to hide your smile. “It sounds like it was a rough day. You know, I didn’t realize how much my absence would affect you, I'm flattered.”

Karlach pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a mixture of frustration and affection.

“It was terrible!” she exclaimed, her voice rising with each word. “I missed you so much, and I can’t stand it when you’re not around. You have to promise me that you’ll never stay at camp without me again! It’s just too much to handle! Never again, babe!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her overdramatic declaration, the sound of your amusement mingling with the warmth of the evening.

“Alright, alright,” you said with a teasing grin. “I promise I’ll try not to leave you behind again. I didn’t realize my absence would be so dramatic.”

Karlach’s expression softened, her frustration melting into a tender smile as she looked down at you.

“I’m serious, though,” she said, her voice taking on a more earnest tone. “I really missed you. It’s just not the same without you by my side.”

You reached up and cupped her face gently, your thumb brushing against her cheek. “I missed you too, Karlach. And I’m here now, so let’s just enjoy this moment together.”

Karlach’s eyes softened, and she leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. The kiss was warm and full of the affection and relief that had built up throughout the day. When she pulled away, her eyes were bright with a mixture of happiness and contentment.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of sincerity. “For being here and for understanding.”

“Always,” you said, pulling her into a closer embrace. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

As the evening settled into night, the campfire flickered gently, casting a soft glow over the scene. Karlach remained close, her earlier drama giving way to a quieter, more peaceful moment between the two of you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Some soft karlach or moreso pouty karlach, to soothe out souls. Hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xoxo

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[mrskreideprinz]

| The Best Time For Sunshine |

Warnings: Not sfw, Dubcon, Cock Riding, Overstim, Mindbreak, afab reader, he/him pronouns for Albedo, no pronouns for reader, Smut, A tad selfship i’ll admit haha, begging

Albedo x  Top!Afab!Reader

A/n: Shoutout to my bestie for giving me the inspiration for the brainrot/writing (mwah ily @suyacho ) anyway enjoy some yummy albebe smut with me <3

“Y-yeah, just like that, keep going, baby.” Albedo moaned.

His hands were placed gently atop your hips and he moved you slowly to the rhythm of his lazy pumps, his hips reaching upwards to meet with yours. The feeling was sensational, something you’d never experienced before, everywhere you could feel your hairs stand at attention. His body felt good against yours, wonderful even. No feeling could compare, you were sure of that. Not a damn thing in Teyvat had felt as good as Albedo’s cock nestled inside of you. His hands, gentle and soft, had woven themselves around your plush skin like a precious promise. You hoped, prayed that the moment never ended.

Taking your hands you reached for the alchemist’s hair and spread your fingers through it, getting a good feel for it seconds before you gripped it tightly in your fist and pulled hard. He let out a pained whimper, and you watched with lust blown eyes as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he humped up into you faster and faster, until the fuse broke and he released himself inside of you. His nails dug into the skin of your hips, leaving red crescents in their path as he pumped himself in and out of you at an unforgiving pace. 

He was even more desperate and horny than the usual amount you were accustomed to and it riled you up even more than before. Taking him by his wrists you pinned his hands above his head and leaned your head down to give him a slow and passionate kiss. 

“Be a good boy for me, mkay?” You purred, and the second he nodded was the moment you began to hop up and down on his cock.

He continued to nod and nod, the harder you jumped up and down on him, rendering him into a pile of mush. His brain became nothing but a combination of yeses and pleases, until he was inevitably coming inside of you, again, but not before he could be rendered weak by your constant bouncing once more. You were insatiable, an unstoppable force even in the literal sense. Your body seemed to move on its own, sticking your ass out you rode him nice and slow, making sure to savor every moment that Albedo moaned and whimpered out for more of you and your body.

“Please, baby, ‘s too much.” Albedo begged, but you only continued to break his mind with your body.

You knew, and so did he deep down, that this is what he truly wanted. He wanted to be immobilized from the sheer intense pleasure coursing through his veins. He works so hard day and night on his research that it was only fair that you offer the only thank you that you could offer. And so what if you show him with your body? Showing him just how smoothly and easily you could move against him, how you could pleasure him with sheer ease; so what if that’s the one way you knew how to do that? And so what if it worked? It was worth it to see Albedo squirm and cry underneath you like the pathetic man he was, no one would ever get to see this perfect sight and you were more than alright with that. 

If it were up to you you’d keep Albedo all to yourself, but you knew that just wasn’t fair in the slightest. So, you’d keep this for yourself at the very least. And as he came for the umpteenth time, you weren’t sure of the specifics because it had been so many times already, and why keep count? You were focused on much more important things anyway, things like Albedo and his face twisted in agonizing euphoria. One that only you could truly satisfy.  

His moans which caressed your skin encouraged you to go on and on, till he could hold out no longer and his head fell to the pillow in exhaustion and he begged you to stop. And after a few more good orgasms on both your ends you did, but only after he held out for just a little bit longer. Then you pulled yourself off of him and rested your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist as you gave him a small and tender kiss before you uttered those three pretty words against his lips, and the two of you fell into a blissful sleep. 

[trashbag-baby666]

Your Blood is Washed Away and all you did will be Undone-Clegan Casper fd au

Dedicated to @umika :3

Summary: John knows exactly how to get Gale to relax after a long day.

WC: 1,060

C/W: Brief mentions of blood (Gale talking about his workday)

mota masterlist! | ao3 link

Gale’s glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, the laptop screen In front of him reflecting off. He stared blankly at the electricity bill to keep himself, to keep himself a reason to not go up to bed. John would fall asleep and he’d be left with his wandering thoughts, unable to catch a single moment of peaceful sleep. 

Today, there had been multiple people airlifted to the hospital after a particularly nasty bus crash. The ER had been packed, every bed full. Gale ran rampant through the open space, swishing curtains back to ask questions or hold a bloodied wad of gauze to someone while they nearly bled out on him. 

His thoughts came to a stop as he felt Scooby’s wet nose nuzzling at his elbow. It wasn’t just John who wanted to come to bed, even their great dance was pleading with his dad to come lay down. 

“Will you come lay down if Scooby asks you?” John came down the stairs after reading Flynn her last bedtime story. Gale felt his warm hand rub a circle on the center of his back before resting on his shoulder, “What kinda business does the electricity bill have at nearly ten pm, Buck?”

“Just checking the finances.” Gale closed the tab and closed his laptop but remained seated at the breakfast bar. His head going down into his hands, his glasses being pushed up into his blonde locks as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Your day still bothering you?” John rested his chin on the top of Gale's head wrapping his arms around him. Gale instinctively leaned into John’s warm touch, every part of him would never fail to provide comforting heat. 

“No, I’m just tired.” Gale lied letting his glasses fall back into place, he crossed his arms over John’s holding the man’s muscular arms. His index finger begins to trace the winding vines and flowers down John’s left arm. 

“Will you come up to bed?” He could feel the vibration of John’s voice against him. Scooby returns to nuzzling him and throwing in the occasional sigh and whine, “I’ll rub your back.”

That was enough for Gale to agree, he gingerly nodded. John set him free from his grasp, he stood up off the bar stool pushing it back in.

Gale folded the ear pieces of his glasses in and set them back in their designated case. He pulled off his shirt in one slick movement tossing it aside next to the bed. He tended to run cold at night and probably would put it back "Lay down," John instructed, grabbing their eucalyptus mint lotion from Gale's side of the vanity in the adjoining bathroom. Gale obeyed, letting Scooby find his spot sprawled at the end of the bed first. He stretched out horizontally, resting his cheek on his intertwined hands and closing his eyes. He felt John climb onto the bed, balancing his weight carefully on Gale's lower back and butt. "This alright, baby?"

Gale nodded silently, listening to the familiar sound of John squeezing the nearly empty lotion bottle. He made a mental note to watch for another sale at Bath and Body Works. As John’s warm hands began working circles into his lower back, Gale let his mind drift to the couples retreat they had attended last year. He had initially scoffed at the idea, but soon found himself in a beachside hut, lulled by the sound of waves and the salty breeze in his hair. The massage class had been particularly memorable. John's massages had always been pleasant but a little rough and karate choppy... Now, after the class, John’s touch was professional-grade, blending perfect pressure with soothing strokes.

As John’s hands moved up his back, Gale's tension melted away. He kept his breathing steady, savoring each moment, every touch, feeling an almost meditative peace wash over him. For a while, the harrowing events of the day faded, replaced by the simple, profound comfort of being loved.

“Talk to me, Buck,” John’s voice broke the silence, gentle yet insistent. “I know it was a rough day.”

Gale sighed, burying his face deeper into his hands. “It’s just… everything. The crash, the blood, the chaos. I can’t shake it off…feeling like my dads right.”

John's hands paused momentarily, then continued their soothing rhythm. “You don’t have to carry it all alone, you know. I’m here.”

Gale’s throat tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I know. It’s just hard. Sometimes it feels like if I let go for even a second, I’ll fall apart. Maybe he was right, John? I’ll end up just like him.”

John leaned down, his breath warm against Gale’s ear. “You know that’s not true, baby. You have so much to be proud of that you know he couldn’t even be bothered to do himself. You’re a doctor for pete's sake. So let me catch you. We’re a team, remember?”

The sincerity in John's words broke something open inside Gale. He turned his head slightly, looking up at John with glistening eyes. “I’m scared, John. Scared of what’s happening, scared of losing control.”

John’s face softened with understanding. He climbed off Gale’s back, lying down beside him and pulling him into a tight embrace. “It’s okay to be scared. But you don’t have to face it alone. I’ve got you.” 

Gale felt the dam inside him break, tears spilling over as he clung to John. The weight of the day, the weeks, the months, seemed to pour out in those tears. John held him, whispering soothing words, his hands never ceasing their comforting touch. He knew it was healthy he was getting it out. It’s what he had worked on all these years in therapy.

“I love you,” John murmured, pressing a kiss to Gale’s temple. “And I’m not going anywhere and I assure you, you’re the best dad in the world.”

Gale nodded against John’s chest, his breathing slowly evening out. “I love you too,” he whispered back, the words a lifeline in the dark.

As they lay there, the room filled with a quiet, profound peace. Gale could feel the tension slipping away, replaced by the warmth of John’s presence and the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in what felt like forever, Gale allowed himself to truly relax, knowing he was safe, loved, and not alone.

- - Taglist: @austeenbootler @storysimp @executethyself35 @coastiewife465 @slowsweetlove Reply to be added to the Casper fd au tallest <3

[earthry]

Affirmations For Papa | Secondo x Reader

Content / Warnings: Papa Emeritus II/Reader, SFW, 1.1k words, Secondo Angst

Author’s Note: Much thanks and love to @angelohspeak who encouraged me to post this <3 this is also definitely heavily influenced by our talks about Secondo <3

You introduce affirmations to Secondo and he has trouble accepting them.

“You’re not even trying, are you?” You’re sorely unimpressed with Secondo’s first few attempts; like a school boy blurting out whatever apology he was forced to give without any self reflection. You prop yourself up with an elbow, turning in bed to give him a leveled stare. He doesn’t look even remotely sorry, but he does scowl.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He looks frankly, a little insulted under the candlelight, his brow pronounced and furrowed in a furious manner. You do your best to soothe his ego with a sweet voice, brushing your thumb against his angry little wrinkles. You love the feeling of his skin against yours; some nights you’re content to just map out his body, traveling hands warm to the touch as you explore your lover.  

“It’s not that I think you’re lying, mio caro. I just mean, you have to take it seriously. You have to think it and say it at the same time, you can’t just spit it out like it’s a rotten tomato.”

“Might as well be–” He mutters, eyes cast elsewhere before wincing when you give him a little kick under the blankets. “Satanas, woman, alright I’ll do it!” 

He curses and rubs his leg with a wounded huff and the night echoes with soft petals of your laughter. You continue to gently massage his forehead and cheeks of wrinkles from his scowl. A few moments of silence pass as you settle, before you nudge him. “Well?”

“I’m… I am.. enough.” He mumbles so quietly you have to strain your ears. His body is still tense against yours, rigid as a board. Like he doesn’t understand why you’re doing this, like he doesn’t understand why it’s so hard to say something so simple with confidence. In front of anyone else, he knows he can shoulder it, knows he can announce it to the whole ministry if they asked. But with you he crumbles, with you he can’t lie. It’s not only because he knows you’d see through the lie within a heartbeat, but also because he cannot bring himself to. 

Even in the dim lighting, you can see the turmoil warring across his features and reward him with a kiss to his nose for his troubles, which scrunches despite the pleased hum it draws from him. His shoulders are still tense, a violin string taunt against it’s foundation.

“Again,” You coax, voice soft. Your fingers trail down his cheek and he leans into your hand only marginally more relaxed. 

“I am enough.” It’s louder, but you know him well enough to hear the hesitancy in his voice. This time you place a kiss to his temple. 

“Again.”

“Cazzo, haven’t I said it enough?” He speaks harshly but you hear it for what it is: a plea. You can feel him begin to pull away but you don’t let him. “Per favore amore mio, why are you doing this,” he says roughly. He’s sat completely up now, and you push yourself off the bed as well, leaning against the headboard as you regard your lover.

“Because I love you, and you deserve to, too.” Your answer draws a sharp inhale from him, and he lets his head fall onto you, forehead resting against your shoulder. 

“This is stupido but fine. I am enough.” 

“Thank you.” He receives a soft kiss to his lips that he chases until you pull too far out of reach. Your grouchy lover swears up and down that he never pouts but right now? He is definitely pouting. “Mm, we’re not finished yet. Next one, okay? I am doing my best.” There’s a heavy sigh against you before he mutters it back to you. You know how hard this is for him, so you let that one slide and reward him with his kiss. Slowly, you begin cycling through your list, your kisses traveling between his cheeks to his forehead to his hand to his lips again. He savors each one, and with each phrase, you try to paint him the way you see him. You wish he could see it too. 

I am worthy of love. I am more than a body. I can accept love from myself. Everything that I am is enough. I am allowed to choose myself.

It’s that last one that does it. He’s gotten quieter and quieter but that last one he can’t even finish– he just can’t do it no matter how hard he tries to shape his lips around the words, no sound comes out and before he knows it, his cheeks are wet. 

Papa Emeritus II is not a crier.

But tonight, he is laid bare in more ways than one. His voice strangled, tapering off as he shuts himself down. You can see wide shoulders curling in on itself protectively, little tremors making themselves known. He’s not a crier, he doesn’t sob or sniffle or wail. He’s quiet and you pull him into your arms. He’s no longer alone, and you wrap your arms around him and for a second his body is stiff before it practically melts and he collapses into you. He’s still silent, but you can feel the wetness against your neck and you hold him together. 

He doesn’t talk about it often; doesn’t even like it being mentioned most days, but sometimes when he looks into a mirror he doesn’t recognize himself. Doesn’t recognize the shape the church has push and pulled him into.

“I feel a little... used,” He admitted one night in the safety of your bedroom, in the safety of the darkness that swallowed the two of you. You hold him close and he buries his face in your shoulder. “Everything I’ve been taught has been by the church, for the church and this message they want to send the world. I don’t really know anything outside of what they’ve given me.”

It wasn’t as if he hated it. He had his own visions for the church, he loved his followers, his people. He enjoyed partying up to the early hours of the morning, loved indulging in the carnal pleasures of papacy.

But the mornings, the comedown?

It was like it was another man in that hotel bathroom mirror staring back at him with smudged paint and lipstick marks. They might as well have been tattooed to his skin with how hot they burned.

“I feel so detached sometimes, that I don’t know what to do.”

The room is still except for Secondo’s shaking shoulders and your comforting murmurs. You tell him to take as much time as he needs, you tell him you will always be here, you are always on his side. (His side. His side and not the church’s, isn’t that a wild thought?)

But most of all, you tell him what he cannot bring himself to say just yet, you tell him the one thing he's never been told before by anyone. Not his mother, not his father, not the church or sister imperator. Not a single soul until now.

He's allowed to choose himself.

And maybe, just maybe-- maybe he begins to believe it.

[aalissy]

Lullaby

Anddd here is day 22 :). Another sleepy lil bit of Marichat cuddles hehe. I hope you like it <3.

AO3

Night had settled over Paris, casting a serene blanket of stars across the sky. Perched on Marinette’s balcony, Chat found solace in the gentle night breeze. The city was quiet tonight, a rare break from the usual akuma attacks. He was tired, and yet, he hadn’t been ready to head home yet which is why he had found himself here. Marinette’s home always brought him comfort.

Slowly, he poked his head inside her room through her trapdoor. Marinette was seated at her desk, the glow of her lamp casting a warm light over her workspace. She was sketching something, her hand moving gracefully across the paper.

Chat couldn’t help but smile. She was so focused, so passionate. He gently knocked on her wall, not wanting to startle her too much. She whirled around, her eyes wide with surprise before her face lit up with a radiant smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Chaton!” she exclaimed softly, gesturing him inside with a wave of her hand. He flopped onto her bed, springing up to slide down her bedside ladder. “What brings you here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a playful grin. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not,” she said, scooting her chair ever so slightly to let him stand closer to her. “I was just working on some designs. It’s been a peaceful night.”

He nodded, resting his head on her shoulder as he leaned down to look at her sketches. “A rare but welcome change.”

Marinette’s cheeks turned pink before she turned back to her designs. Every so often, though, she kept glancing his way. He could tell that she wanted desperately to say something but wasn’t entirely certain on how to start. So, as per usual, he took the initiative.

“Everything alright, purrincess?” he asked gently.

Marinette sighed, putting down her pencil. She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m just a bit tired, I guess. It’s been a long week. Those akuma attacks were really keeping me up.”

Chat frowned down at her. That wasn’t good. He couldn’t leave Marinette tired. It was his job to make certain that she was always alright. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing it softly. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working too hard.”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude. “Maybe you’re right.”

He led her to the chaise and sat down beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. The silence was comfortable, the noises of the city outside a distant murmur.

“Chaton, can I ask you something?” she said after a while, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything, Marinette.”

“Could you sing me a lullaby? My parents used to sing to me when I was little, and I could really use a little bit of comfort right about now.”

Honestly, he was taken aback by the request, but slowly he nodded. “Of course.”

He thought for a moment, then began to sing softly, a lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was a child.

“Sleep, my darling, rest your head, dream sweet dreams in your bed. Stars above are shining bright, guiding you through the night. Close your eyes, little one, the day is done, and the night’s begun. I will guard you, keep you safe, in your dreams, find your place.”

Marinette’s breathing slowed, and Chat could feel her relax against him. Her eyes fluttered closed, a peaceful expression settling on her face. He continued to sing, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet of the room.

“Rest now, darling, do not fear, for your Chat Noir is very near. In your dreams, you’ll fly away, to a place where we can play. Sleep, my purrincess, till morning’s light, I’ll be with you through the night. Safe and sound, you’ll always be, in your dreams, come back to me.”

As he finished the lullaby, Marinette was fast asleep, a serene smile on her lips. Chat held her for a while longer, savoring the moment. The girl who was always so strong, so brave, needed someone to lean on tonight, and he was honored to be that someone.

Carefully, he lifted her and carried her to her bed, tucking her in gently. He brushed a stray hair from her face and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Goodnight, my Marinette,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

Chat quietly made his way back to her balcony, casting one last glance at her sleeping form before he leaped into the night. His heart was full, and he couldn’t wait for the next peaceful night when he could sing her another lullaby.

[kfkr1ze]

[002-A24] Eat, Laugh, Launch

Summary — ✈︎The egg-rocket launched by Akuta and the others ate up all the rain clouds, and now the sky is cleared up. The stalls at the festivals are flourishing, and the club members work together to provide hospitality to the guests.

Characters— ✈︎ Ushio, Nanaki, Kiroku, Akuta, Muneuji

Location: Tomioka Hachiman Shrine in Shodoshima

Kaede: Uwah〜 There's so many people! All the tourists seem to be gathering around!

(Everyone started to gather around right in time for the festival… I’m glad everything ended up working out.)

…Hm?

Customer A: Excuse me, I’d like the 3 pack of your baby castellas that come with the special syrup.

Ushio: Alright, please give me a moment…!

Customer B: I’d like a 5 pack over here!

Ushio: O-Okay, right away…!

Customer C: OMG! I’m so happy! This special syrup tastes super good! I wanna take a couple as a souvenir! Hey mister, could I get a 10 pack please〜?

Ushio: Gh…! Uh…! Okay!

Kaede: Wow. The crowd's growing so fast…

Nanaki: Right? It's been like that ever since the start of the festival. 

Kaede: Nanaki-kun and Kiroku-kun! Good work today!

Kiroku: ……You…too……。

Nanaki: Umm, Chief. If you want… If you don't mind… We could lend a hand.

I was thinking of helping out with Kurama’s stall. At this rate, the customers will get bored having to wait around. 

Will that be okay in terms of our points?

Kiroku: ……I’ll……do my……best.

Kaede: Eh!?

(Nanaki-kun and Kiroku-kun both offered to help out by themselves…)

…Of course it's fine! If you need any help, feel free to ask me anything! Let’s do our best giving hospitality!

「OMOTENASHI BATTLE」

Kaede: Thank you both for helping us give hospitality! The customers looked really satisfied too! Right, Ushio-kun?

Ushio: …Well, it went way faster than it could've if I was by myself. It's only natural for that to happen with more people…

………

…Thanks for helping me out. Here, it's something for the trouble.

It's the baby castella we were selling at the stall. 

Kiroku: ……He’s giving……A gift……

Nanaki: Let's hope it doesn't magically start raining again. … Thank you for the food. 

Munch munch……!?

It's delicious…

Ushio: … Hm.

Nanaki: The moment it entered my mouth, the aroma flooded my senses. The mellow taste of the syrup felt like I was in the middle of a meadow…

Before you can even savor the taste, the sweet sponge of the cake lightly touches on your tongue. It feels like flowers starting to bloom…

Both feelings are in a wondrous state of harmony; one which you can't achieve without the perfect proportion of the otherーー It’s an amazing combination of both sweet and salty flavors that evoke an almost nostalgic feeling…

What the hell… I could hear Jim Hen’s[1] guitar solo start playing in my head before I could even swallow the first bite…

Kaede: Wow, amazing! Nanaki-kun, you’re really good at doing food reviews!

Nanaki: Ah, no, it just… tasted too good…

Kiroku: ………

Kaede: (Kiroku looks really focused while he's eating… Cute.)

Oh right, Ushio-kun.

Ushio: What.

Kaede: The ladies who set up the baby castella machine were praising you. They were saying that if you bought all the ingredients but only forgot the syrup you should've just told them.

They said that it was the first time they ever had such delicious sweets. They wanted to say thank you.

Ushio: … I was just doing my job.

Kaede: (He says that, but his cheeks are turning red. He's getting embarrassed.)

ーーEveryone did a really good job today. The fireworks were amazing, and both the tourists and the locals were super happy with the result. The festival was a big success!

Nanaki: And the music?

Kaede: Of course it was amazing too! They said that it was far better than any sound they ever used before, and the music was popular amongst both younger and older people!

Nanaki: Really!?

Kaede: Yes really. The video of the performance already got uploaded. The sync with the fireworks was really amazing. The view count is really good too.

Nanaki: I see!

Ah, I mean. …I did my best. Yes.

Kaede: Kiroku-kun’s lantern is also really popular too. Since it's cute, but also a bit frightening, it's naturally attracting a lot of attentionーー

Kiroku: ……Eh……?

Kaede: The place in front of the lantern is a really popular photo spot. A lot of people seem to be posting pictures they've taken with it on social media.

Kiroku: R……Really…? But… it's… not…… finished……

Kaede: Being unfinished isn't as bad as you think it is.

Kiroku: ………

Kaede: Luckily, thanks to the sunny weather, a lot of people came to the festival, so the organizers were happy. Everyone looked like they were really enjoying themselves and Iーー I… I was really… moved…

Ushio: … Surprisingly, for an adult, you're a real crybaby y’know.

Kaede: S-Sorry. I think a bit of the sea breeze got in my eye.

(Anyways, everyone’s hard work finally paid off. And it’s all thanks to that kidーー)

Akuta: ‘Sup! I’m here to win all the Kurodemy Director’s Awards! [1]

Muneuji: Good work, everyone.

Kaede: Akuta-kun and Muneuji-kun! Good work today!

Akuta: Ah〜 Those takoyaki were super good! The okonomiyaki is cooked perfectly, and the oden is packed full of flavor〜! Street food is just the best!

Nanaki: Sigh… Saku-chan-sensei even told us that we were gonna be eating at the afterparty, yet you still filled yourself up on food… Did you forget?

Akuta: Nah〜 I remember pre・tty・well〜　I didn't buy anything! Every time I passed a stall, the owners were just giving stuff to me free of charge!

Ushio: You must've been staring with big ass eyes, like a starving puppy begging for food.

Kiroku: Isotake… definitely has…… a face that…… makes me want…… to give him…… food…

Muneuji: Everyone was very kind, so we didn’t want to refuse any offerings given to us. I did tell Isotake that he should’ve saved the food for later though.

Kaede: He just couldn’t resist huh…

Akuta: It’s ALLL good! My stomach is infinite, like a black hole! I’ve only filled like 10% of it!

Sakujiro: Ah, so everyone is gathered up. It’s about time we head off to the restaurant. The one we visited when we first came here that served delicious Hishio-don.

Kaede: Since we’re leaving Shodoshima tomorrow, let’s all eat together this time.

Akuta: Hi・Shi・O!! Hi・Shi・O!!

Kiroku: ………

Nanaki ＆ Ushio: ……… (Nods)

Muneuji: So, everyone is coming?

Kiroku: …… It looks… like it… but...

Muneuji: ………

Ushio: ………

Kiroku: …… Are you two… ok…ay…?

…… You shouldn’t… fight……

Akuta: What’s up what’s up? You’re gonna give me half of your Hishio-don, Kiroku?

Seriously? YAYY! Thanks a bunch!

Kiroku: ……!? That’s wroーー

Akuta: Ehh, you said you’re gonna give me your side of miso soup too? You’re seriously the best Kiroku! Thanks thanks～～～！ 

Kiroku: ……I didn’t… say……

Kaede: (Those two don’t seem to be on the same wavelength at all but…)

Anyways, let’s go!

Nanaki: When you say you launched itーー you mean you launched that egg!?

Akuta: Yeah! It went off like BOOM!

Kaede: Hm? What did?

Nanaki: Oh nothing, we’re talking about a movie.

Keep your voice down.

Muneuji: We negotiated these terms with the egg.

Nanaki: You managed to communicate with it? That egg… It didn’t seem  like it was a living thing though. 

Muneuji: I don’t believe it had any biological reactions. But, it did feel like it had its own will. 

Akuta: Maybe it’s like a communication thingy from the aliens? Maybe they’re controlling it with a remote or something, like a toy car〜!

Nanaki: So where’s the egg now?

Akuta: We searched for it around the mountain buuut… We couldn’t find it at all!

Muneuji: I believe it might’ve exploded into bits and pieces.

Nanaki: Uwah… Seriously…?

Akuta: Weeell! I don’t think that’s true! If it’s that egg, I’m sure that we’ll meet it again. 

At leastーー That’s the kinda feeling I get.

Nanaki: That’s some confidence you got there from only your gut feeling… but whatever. In any case, let’s not tell Kinugawa-kun about any of this.

He got really attached to that egg. He’d probably get super upset if we told him it exploded or something.

Muneuji: Agreed. Let’s just tell him that it returned back to the sea on its own.

Previous — ✈︎ Masterlist — ✈︎ Next

Notes — ✈︎

A reference to Jimi Hendrix!

[arisewanekosuki]

In another’s shoes | Chapter 3

(Genshin School AU x Fem! Reader)

previous | next

Sorry that paragraphs look weird this time, this was the only way tumblr would let me post… otherwise I was getting an error that didn't even let me save this as a draft. :(

When it was lunch break I quickly managed to get out from the classroom, before someone would ask me to eat with them. I went to my regular place that I go when I'm not eating with Yoimiya, I could finally have some time for myself. -“When I think about it, I didn’t saw Yoimiya today in her regular places… I wonder how she is doing…” I said aloud to myself. I really want to see her but I’m afraid that I’ll start just be myself and she will know that something is wrong with Lumine.I sighed and opened my lunch, it seems Aether prepared bento today. “Hm this is first time for me to try bento! I always only eat sandwiches for lunch.” I took the first bite and -“Ummm!~ That’s delicious!” I started to savor the taste and enjoy every bite. “Good looking, kind, caring and he can even prepare such delicious lunch! I’m so jealous of his future wife!~” I smiled to myself, continuing to enjoy tasty food. -“LUMINE!” Someone shouted, making me choke on food. - „Ah! I’ll help you!” that person hit my back with too much strength, that I fell on the ground. -“Boss! What are you doing?!” the other person helped me get up and started checking me. It was girl with black mask, light green hair and narrow reddish-violet eyes. -“You supposed to come here and apologies, not kill her!” the light green haired girl was sending glares towards “boss”. He said that he tried to save me, the girl was fuming and before she could scold him, I coughed, bringing their attention to me. -“I’m fine, my back hurts a bit but I’ll live!” I said looking at rest of my food that ended up on the ground, feeling a bit sad that such great food went to waste. -“I’m so sorry Lumine!” I finally looked at person who ‘helped’ me. “This guy is huge!!” I felt suddenly intimidated by presence of big guy with red horns. “Wait, red horns, white hair, this is the same guy I saw with Lumine back then.” -“I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll do anything to make it up! Please forgive me!” He bowed, spitting apologies. -„You don’t have to apologize for something like this, it happens.” he and the girl looked at me with surprise on their faces. -“But! Because of me you had to go to hospital!” The Oni shouted. “Oh…I thought he was apologizing for hitting me so hard and for fallen food.” -“We heard from Aether that you went to hospital yesterday, Boss was messaging and calling you but you never responded, so we were worried that the hit in the head did something serious to you.” She glared at the ‘Boss’ again, when she said ‘hit in the head’. -“Aah well…you see… I lost my phone! Sorry that I couldn’t respond! But I’m fine. Nothing happened to me, like you see!” I smiled. I couldn't come up with any other excuse why I was ignoring their messages and calls, so I lied about the phone. -“Hm? You lost your phone? When did you lost it?! If it was at school, then me and the boys can go look for it!!”  The Oni said with excitement, like he’s going to search for treasure. -“Ah, there’s no need! I think I lost it somewhere at home! And you know, I turned sound off, so calling it won’t’ help! I’ll find it eventually! Haha…“ The girl looked at me deep in thought, meanwhile the Oni was saying that I should find it soon because there is something he wants me to show. -“Are you really alright?” she asked. I got surprised by her question that I hesitated for moment. -“Of course!” I said with false enthusiasm. The girl looked like she wanted to say something more but the big guy interrupted her. -“Of course she’s alright Shinobu! Lumine is Second to One with Aether! Some ball in the head won't defeat her! Haha!” he said loudly and then started to laugh. The girl put her hand on her forehead and sighed, looking tired to deal with her ‘Boss’. “At least I know what’s her name but I still don’t know his na-“ -“After all! All homies of Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto are unbeatable!” “Oh, there, he said it. Lumine has really interesting friends.” Then Shinobu glared at Itto, telling him to clean the mess on the floor that was my lunch not long ago.

She wanted to buy me another one but even if I still felt a bit hungry I declined.

After that I went back to school building. “I don’t think, I’ll be able to avoid Lumine's friends…there is nowhere to hide from them!” suddenly I bumped into someone. I immediately apologized, hoping this person is not another friend of Lumine. They chuckled. -“What happened Lumine? It’s not like you to have your head in the clouds~” the guy with navy-blue hair chuckled again. Even if his bangs mostly covers it, I can still see black eye patch on his right eye. “Is his right eye blind? Or this is something he just wears for fun?” I could see diamond-shaped pupil in his left eye, his eye is really pretty. -“Oh? Are you finally falling in love with me?” he smirked. “Wait, what?” I felt my face getting warmer. -“Oh my, do I see blush on your face? That’s surprising~!” -“S-stop! I’m not blushing!” I covered ‘my’ face, trying to hide the heat in ‘my’ cheeks from this person. -„Hmm~” He hummed, deep in thought. “Who would thought, that hit by ball will bring on your cute side~” he patted ‘my’ head. I slapped his hand, not liking for him to just pet me like that. He wasn't surprised by this action, he only smiled and said. -“Alright, alright, don’t get angry now… to think we all were worried about you but it seems it was nothing after all.” He was watching me, waiting for some reply. I sighed, already tired of all of those interactions with Lumine’s friends. -“Sorry for worrying you all.” I mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. “But I would like to have some alone time for myself before the end of the break, so excuse me.” I passed him without looking back at the guy.

I watched the clock on the wall, waiting for last class to end. When I heard the bell I gathered all Lumine’s things into backpack and quickly went to lockers. This time I didn’t made a mistake and immediately went toward Lumine’s locker. Before any of her friends would talk to me I left school, going towards local library. “I hope I’ll be able to find some clues about this weird situation.” After reaching the library I noticed that there’s not that many people “Great!” I smiled, going toward PC that nobody was using. -“Let’s see..” I murmured under my nose. I tried to search anything that would confirm if things like that are even possible, sadly I only found some made up stories, or sites that wanted to redirect me to other suspicious sites. “I knew it, this is impossible! If something like this happened then there would be some article about it! Or maybe… if something like this happened to someone, they too never told anyone about it…” I sighed, disappointed that I was unable to find anything that could be useful. -“It is possible to change bodies with someone?” Someone said beside me, I jumped, closing all tabs and looking at the girl with short, wavy light green hair and with magenta eyes. -“O-oh! I’m sorry Lumine! I… You were so engrossed into reading it, that the curiosity got best of me! I’m sorry!” The girl panicked, she was avoiding my eyes, she probably felt shameful for reading what I was searching. -“It…it’s okay! Don’t worry!” I looked at the monitor, not knowing what else to say “Those Lumine’s friends really have to be everywhere?! Give me a break.” -“Um…” the girl was looking at me, like she wanted to say something, probably ask why I was searching something like this -“Ah! This!” I was looking everywhere and then I noticed the book the girl was holding ‘The Boar Princess’. “That’s it!” -„You know! I was searching something for my book!” I said with a smile. -„A book?” The girl looked at me with curiosity in her eyes. -“Yes! I wanted to write a story where two girls woke up in each other bodies! So I was searching for.. um… any information if something like this could be even possible or if I have to add some magic to it!” I said, hoping that this will be enough to not be suspicions of Lumine’s weird behavior. -“Oh! That interesting! I never knew you are writing stories!” she said with a smile. “When you finish it, can I read it?” she asked with excitement in her eyes. -“Well, if I finish then sure! But! Don’t tell anyone, okay?” -„O-of course! I won’t!” After she said that, I smiled to her and got up from the chair. -„I finished for today so I’ll be going! Bye!” The girl waved back, saying goodbyes. I left the library, feeling tired, I walked slowly toward Lumine’s home.

“Good that I started to write the names of some Lumine’s friends on the paper, I should learn them because I won’t be able to came up with any excuse why Lumine suddenly doesn’t remember her friends names. But ugh.. I didn't get a chance to hear the names of ‘pirate guy’ and that girl from library...” I sighed nth time for the day. I thought about visiting hospital to learn if maybe ‘I’ woke up but I felt too tired, the only thoughts in my head were about going to bed and sleep. “Ah, I need to do homework too… ugh but what about MY homework?! Why I’m the only one who have to do homework for her?! What about my school work?!” -“I don’t want to talk with you! Leave me alone!” -“But! Klee is very sorry!” I stopped in my tracks after hearing some children shouting, I realized that I walked along the road that leads to my little sister's school. “Ah, today it's my turn to pick her up from school…” I noticed that the children that were shouting are my little sister and “Isn't that the child I saved?” -“Klee didn’t wanted (little sister name)’s sister to get hurt!” the little girl with blond pigtails and red cap was crying. -“But she is! Give back my sister-“ -“Hey, hey don’t yell at each other! You two are friends, aren’t you? Friends shouldn’t shout at each other.” I stepped between them, trying to calm them down. -“She’s not my friend! Not anymore! Because of her my sister…my sister…” Now two girls were crying. I crouched down, looking at two girls. -“Do you think your sister would blame your friend for what happened?” I asked my little sister. -“…no…” -“So why are you blaming your friend? I know your sister and I know she would be sad, knowing that you’re angry at your friend.” Both of the little girls stopped crying. And I continued. “You sister saved someone’s life! Isn't that amazing? I’m sure she will be even happier when she hear that she saved YOUR friend from accident!” My little sister wiped her tears with her hand. “After all, we, the elders have a responsibility to always protect the younger ones!” I smiled to both them, hoping that this make my little sister stop being angry at her friend. -“I'm sorry Klee…” Klee shook her head, she held onto my sister’s hands. -“Klee is sorry too! Klee promise to be more careful to not make any more problems to others!” I was happy to see that they made up. The girl with red cap looked at me. -“Thank you Lumine!” She said with bright smile. “Wait, she knows Lumine too?!” I was shocked but still I replied -“No problem, just don’t get into trouble and don’t fight with each other okay?” Both girls shouted “Okay!”. -“Are you two waiting for someone to pick you up? Or maybe would you like me take you home?” I asked. My sister shook her head. -“I’m waiting for dad!” she replied. -“I’m waiting for my brother with Dodoco!” Klee showed me her fluffy toy. “I should go now, It’s better to not risk staying here any longer if happens that Klee’s brother is another friend of Lumine.” -“Alright! Then be good and wait here, don’t go with any strangers! I’ll be going, bye bye!” I waved and started heading back to Lumine’s house, the girls waved back and shouted goodbyes. They both are waiting by school's gate so I don't have to worry about them.

While going back to twins’ home I couldn’t stop thinking about my little sister. “It must be hard for her… I need to come back to my body. I can’t worry my family any longer… but how? Should I just hit myself in the head? Will that really help?!” I sighed, feeling depressed with this whole situation. Looking around I realized that there is no one on the street. “Hm? That’s weird, there always someone going to shop or going back on this street. Well at least I can enjoy the silence.” I could only hear my steps but then -“Lumine.” I heard some child's voice whispering to ‘my’ ear. I turned around immediately but I didn’t saw anyone. -“…Great… Am I losing my mind already?!” I mumbled. I stood in place a bit longer, looking around if someone is hiding and trying to prank me, but there was clearly no one. There was no one, yet I started to feel like someone is watching me. “Suddenly I don’t feel safe.” I ran back to Lumine’s place, looking behind me from time to time.

After reaching home, I ate dinner and then went to room just to lay down on bed. I thought about taking a nap before doing homework but before I could even close ‘my’ eyes, someone knocked on the door. -“Come in…” The door opened, revealing Aether. -“Can you finally reply to Ajax? This guy is bothering me because you’re ignoring him.” He said a bit angry probably with getting too many messages from that guy. -“Tell him I lost my phone.” I turned to lie down on my stomach. Aether looked at me and then at his phone, not even minute passed and we could hear the bell of Lumine’phone “Did he just called me?!” Aether approached desk and opened the drawer, finding the phone. -“You should just be honest that you don’t want talk with him…. Or with anyone” He was looking through Lumine’s phone and then I realized. “Wait a minute, did he just unlocked it?!” I got up quickly from the bed and rushed towards Aether. I took the phone from his grasp and turned off the option of putting the password to unlock it. -“ Oh gosh, thank you! You don’t have any idea how much tro-“ I stopped talking, looking at surprising Aether. “Oops I almost said I couldn't unlock it.” -“I mean... you don’t have any idea how long I was searching for it!” I smiled. The boy just looked at me with face that was saying 'Are you serious?' then he sighed and started heading to the door. -“If you can’t handle Ajax, just tell me and I’ll take care of it.” -“Huh? Ah no! I … I can handle him!” Aether didn’t say anything and he just left the room, closing door behind him. I went back to bed. -“Well, time to check this phone!”

--- Thank you so much for reading until end. Like always sorry for any mistakes. I had small writing block for this one… I tried to write short things hoping that it will help be go back to finish this chapter >.<

[eddieslittleslutmuffin]

✿Hi! I hope you enjoy this fic! Please remember to reblog, like, and leave a nice comment. Follow me, and maybe you’ll see more nice stuff, idk I can’t tell you what to do. But I’d appreciate it! More stuff pinned to my page! Kay bye!

Show you off Pt. 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Sinclair!sister

Word count: 2k

a/n: ask and you shall receive @e0509 you gave me the extra boost to finish this, and as this is a series for Eddie and my oc Devina, there will be a pt.3 in the future. 🫶🏽

Eddie, and I got to the venue early before doors opened to the public; his team, and production showed up an hour before that.

“Madison Square Garden, not bad for a kid from a small town.” I beamed up at him, Eddie bumps his hip into mine, wraps an arm round my neck, and pulls me close. As we both stand there looking at the imaginary crowd, an overwhelming sensation washes over me; Eddie has pulled through a lot, we both did. Surviving Hawkins, Indiana is no easy feat, but somehow we did.

“Kids like us, we aren’t supposed to make it this far. I’m so proud of you.” Tears from at the bottom of my eyes, they threaten to fall, but the second they do he caught them with his thumb.

“I’m so proud of us, your art gallery is opening soon, and I just know you’re gonna do great Angel.” He kissed me on my forehead, his lips felt warm, and soft. The feeling of butterflies rushed up from the pit of my stomach at the mention of my new gallery. I spent every last dime I had from working, and college tuition on it. Of course Eddie funded everything else I couldn’t pay for, even when I told him no, he refused to listen to me.

“Thank you baby, I love you.” My voice cracked at the end, the memories of the past flashing by in my mind, and I couldn’t have imagined any of them without Eddie in the picture.

“Hey guys, sorry to ruin your moment, but we gotta get a move on with sound check.” Alison, the production manager, called to us from down below the stage on the floor where the pit section would be.

Eddie pulled me in close for one last kiss, at least the last one for now, but he savored the flavor of me making sure to take all my gloss with him.

“Alright, calm down, I’ll see you in a few.” I had to pry him off me, if it were up to him, he’d kiss me till my lips fell off. Eddie’s love, and affection knew no bounds. Even if we’re in public together, he finds a way to intimately touch me; I used to be shy about the pda at first, but then along the way it somehow boosted my confidence.

I kindly ask one of the security guards to escort me back to Eddie’s dressing room, “Thanks.” The large burraly man nodded his head in response, and left me alone.

The room was a simple enough design, nicely furnished with a red sofa, an end table next to it. A coffee stable sat in the center with a stack of magazines, and a large charcuterie board. A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket with ice, I so badly wanted a glass, but I decided against it since I was talked into singing tonight.

At the front of the room is the makeup chair, with mirrors with lights bordering each one. I smiled at myself in the mirror, Eddie wanted me to get all dressed up. I think he went a bit overboard with his style of outfit, making sure to put me in something that is damn near naked, while also highlighting my breast.

After I did a few warm up exercises, I decided that I should probably take a nap, it would be a few hours before Eddie brings me out. I settled down on the sofa, tucking my legs underneath me. Soon I’m drifting off to sleep.

A few hours later

Eddie is doused in sweat, the microphone dangling around his neck, and his guitar sitting carefully nestled in its stand a few feet away from him. Off stage he could see Devina shifting her weight from one hip to the other, a nervous habit he noticed she has. He threw her a wink, and a dazzling smile. This seems to put her at ease a little, her body visibly relaxing.

“Alright quiet down my little hellraisers, quiet down.” He commanded the crowd, at the sound of his voice the stadium calmed down to a low simmer. Devina is always amazed by how well Eddie could control his crowds, they hang on his every word. He’s always been naturally charismatic, that was the first thing to grab her attention when they first met in High School.

“I’ve got someone really special for you all.” Excitement shone brightly in his brown eyes, it’s the only thing he could think about all night. Finally he gets to show his baby off on the grandest stage of them all.

The crowd began to buzz a little, whispering amongst each other, this is an unexpected turn of events. Usually Eddie sticks to the script, when it came to performances, going off page was unlike him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the beautiful, talented, and future wife, Devina Sinclair!” He shouted, his arm outstretched towards the curtains where she appeared from. On cue a bright spotlight shines onto her, the stadium roars to life at the site of Eddie Munson’s infamous girlfriend. Though there were a few of his “fans” that treated her like shit, the majority of the fanbase absolutely adored Devina.

Eddie met her halfway on stage, grabbed her by the hand, and brought her right over to the microphone. At the moment the stage lights were down giving her view of all the people in the pit. It warmed her heart to see them blowing her kisses, making hearts with their hands, and shouting compliments at her.

“Here’s how this is gonna go, my beautiful baby here is going to sing a cover for you, and yall are gonna be the kind hearted supportive people I know you can be. Sounds good?” The stadium erupted again in response, Eddie grinned, and nodded his head satisfied by their enthusiasm.

“What about you honey, all good?” He covers the mic with his hand, he leaned forward a bit so he could hear her better.

“Yea, but can we turn the stage lights up please.” No seeing the crowd would help a lot, a seed of self doubt grew inside her. Before she could start to spiral about rather or not this would go awful, Eddie grabbed her by the hands.

“Hey, you got this, and even if you still get nervous, just close your eyes and pretend like it’s you and me.” Bending a bit lower to her, they touched foreheads, and the crowd went insane.

“They like me, they really like me.” Devina giggled to Eddie, squeezing her hands he pulled back and turned to the one of the production people off stage.

“Hey is there a chance we can get these lights back up?” He flashed the young woman a sweet smile, her cheeks turned a deep red as she talked into her head set.

“They’re ready when she is.” She confirmed, Eddie bowed to her in thanks, turning back to Devina, his heart pounding. She looked stunning, though she could be completely dressed down in sweatpants and a t-shirt and still look beautiful.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” Eddie kissed her on the temple, pats her on the head, and steps back by his drummer.

“Hi everyone, um, sorry if I’m awkward Eddie is the true natural born star.” Devina chuckled dryly, one girl in the very front shouted out at her. “YOU GOT THIS QUEEN!” And then another voice, “WE LOVE YOU!”

“Oh wow, thanks guys. Uh, well the song I’ll be singing is a classic. Hope you all know Creep by Radiohead.” The crowd buzzed with excitement as the music started up, she requested that Eddie have the production team play her mixed version of the song instead of the original.

“When you were here before, Couldn't look you in the eye.” Her voice was hauntingly soft, it really added to the dark overtone of the song, Eddie was shocked. He knew his girl could sing, but this is clearly something she’s worked in before. He wondered why she never shared this with him before, maybe it’s something she’s mentioned, and maybe he forgot?

The crowd is in awe of Devina, the voices of the people become the background singers as they quietly sing along with her. The girl in the front row from earlier, seemingly in tears now, found it heart-swelling to see another Black girl being treasured like this. She took her phone out to record, though Devina had all her comments blocked on social media, the young woman wanted to share this moment with her anyway. Her hope was that Devina could see herself the way they all saw her.

Devina hadn’t noticed her eyes were wet until she was done singing, Eddie is immediately by her side again pulling her into a tight hug. The stadium came back to life, the sound of thousands of people cheering is deafening. Overwhelmed by their positive energy, she stepped back from the microphone stand, and took a moment to breathe.

“That was a stellar performance if I do say so myself baby.” He spoke in a hushed voice only they could hear, his eyes sparkled, and his lips stretched into a dazzling smile. He’s never been so proud of someone before.

“I was inspired by your confidence, Eddie freakin Munson.” Devina beamed up at him, her words were true, she thought about how carefree he looked on stage, and tried to follow his lead.

“Aw of course you look up to daddy.” He said smugly, his hand reaching for her round booty, but before he could get any further than her lower back, she grabbed onto his hand.

“Thousands watching, remember?”

“Actually I’m glad you mentioned that.” Eddie’s face suddenly got serious, turning back to the crowd he brought his fingers to his lips.

“Children, daddy is speaking now.” As if his words were made of magic, the crowd settled down, and they all looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Now, I know there are hundreds of people here already, but I hope some of you out there are recording so that the whole world can hear me.” He took a breath to gather his thoughts, Devina, and the way people treated her is not something he took lightly.

“I've been seeing all the nasty little comments some of you have been making about Devina. Let me tell you little shits something, this woman, this gorgeous woman, and my future wife. She’s not going anywhere, so if you think you can bully her online…harass her in public, well you and me got a problem. I don’t care if you stop buying tickets to my shows, I don’t care if you stop listening to my music. The sole reason I’m here in this stage today for you little pricks online to obsess over is because of her. There’s no Eddie Munson without Devina Sinclair.”

The crowd erupted when he turned to Devina and pulled her in for a big kiss, he didn’t hood back either. One hand held her against him, and the other grabbed a handful of her ass. Gently he pulled away, there was breathing heavy, and hearts hammering. Devina wrapped her arms around Eddie’s neck, she got up on her tiptoes to plant another sweet kiss on his lips.

“I love you.” She whispered, Eddie’s eyes brimming with tears, he never feels happier than when he’s with Devina. He pecks her in the forehead one last time, and addresses the crowd.

“Okay, I’m done ranting, ha, I’m starting to feel like my old man. Yall ready for one more song, or are you tired?” The crowd cheered in response, he squinted his eyes looking out into the sea of people.

“Is anybody alive out there? I said…is anybody alive out there!” He shouted, the lights went up to show the crowd, the people in the pit were the loudest ever.

“One last time give it up for my lovely Devina Sinclair!” She bowed in response to the claps and cheers, and ran off stage, back to the dressing room. She kicked off her shoes, and collapsed onto the couch. She didn’t even bother trying to fight the tiredness, Devina’s eyes slid shut, and immediately fell asleep.

Much later that night.

The feeling of something wet swiping across my face woke me, I opened my eyes to see Eddie’s face above me. A wet makeup wipe in hand, and a tiny smile on his lips.

“I figured you were too exhausted to remove the makeup so I did it for you, but I’m not sure I got everything.” He continued to swipe at my eyebrows making sure he got everything. My head is in his lap in the back seat of his car, Marcus, Eddie’s driver, is nice enough to drive slowly.

“I slept that long? Oh god you didn’t have to carry me did you?” An impending embarrassment rushing in as the thought of my poor Eddie struggling to lift me, or worse than that, him not being able to lift me at all.

“Relax babe, you were awake enough to walk on your own, but still too sleepy to be aware of it happening. When we made it to the car you passed out again.” He chuckled, I sat upright, and switched to leaning against his shoulder. Automatically, Eddie brought his arm around me, pulling me in close, and peppering kisses over my face until I giggled. My hand rested on his chest, my fingers drew circles over his bare skin, the top four buttons were left undone.

The rest of our night was quiet, we both ran a bath, and did our nightly routine together. We snuggled into bed, and passed out. I’m sure Eddie is going to want my pov of last night in the morning.

[wario-speedwagon]

Dave and Old Sport Adopt a Kid: Chapter 4

Hi ho cheerio, friendos, I got another chapter here for ya! You know the drill, full text under the cut, and hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The hum of the car’s motor filled the silence between a discontented Jack and the short passenger beside him.

“...”

“...”

The young girl’s legs could barely reach past the edge of her car seat, nor did her eye level reach far over the side car window, but she was entranced nonetheless by the passing scenery around her.

Jack had a bad feeling about all this, but what could he do? He was resigned to the position Dave had forced him into.

Fredbear have mercy on that eggplant’s soul the moment Jack next laid his eyes on him.

“...”

Jack thought of striking up some banter, but nothing seemed natural to bring up. She wouldn’t be able to respond verbally anyway.

“...Roll down the window if you want. Handle’s over by you.”

He looked over.

No response from the hypnotized girl.

“...”

He turned his eyes back to the road.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack locked the front door behind them, letting Pruny enter the house before him. She stood there in the middle of his living room, taking in her surroundings with interest.

“Stay here, I’m gonna bring out some blankets.”

He left her to her fascination with the grandfather clock as he headed for his room down the hallway.

As he reached the hallway though, Pruny ran over to catch up to him.

Jack hid a sigh and let her stick to his side.

He entered his room. There was only the one comforter on his bed; and when he checked his closet, he saw it was empty of all but clothes. Relocating so often, he never kept much stuff beyond the stingy necessities.

…Jeez.

He went to the bathroom and pulled some folded towels from under the sink; they’d have to be better than nothing at this rate.

“Here’s the bathroom if you need it by the way.”

But then he stopped and considered:

“Do you– How about this: why don’t you shower up, and I’ll go make us dinner?”

With a moment of consideration, she shyly consented.

“You’re… good on your own, right? Just use the bar soap, dry off when you’re done, put on that new shirt…?”

She nodded.

Thank god.

He started the shower for her.

“Alright, uhh, if you need me– I don’t know, scream at the top of your lungs or something.”

And with her acknowledgement, he closed the bathroom door behind him, leaving her to it.

...And then he collapsed against the hallway wall and sighed out the conflicted tension he’d been ignoring in front of her.

…Fuck…

He stayed against that wall, reviewing his thoughts for a savored minute of privacy.

“...”

But then with a concluding sigh, he finally pushed himself back on his feet.

“Alright… grilled cheese…”

So to the kitchen he went. There’s no way he wouldn’t have the ingredients on hand.

Jack entered the room, and then time suddenly stopped.

“...”

The motherfucker sat there across the kitchen, leaning against the counter, smiling knowingly back at him.

Jack made a mad scramble for his ridiculous neck.

Yet Dave casually intercepted both of his struggling wrists and held them at bay in front of him as he cheerfully greeted:

“Why hello there, old sport!”

“–the FUCK’d you leave her behind with me!?”

“Chillax, pal, I think you’re overreactin’ just a bit.”

“–gonna skin you ALIVE, Aubergine–!”

“Jeez, aren’t you a piece o’ work tonight! Listen, old–”

“–Get out of my house, and take her with you!”

“Oh come on, don’t be fuckin’ stupid! I already told you I ain’t got anywhere to take her to!”

He let go of a slightly less feral Jack.

“‘Sides, look how much she’s warmed up to ya! You really gonna just dump her off outta the blue like that after inviting her into your home!?”

“You’re the one who dumped her off onto me, scumbag!

Now take her and leave, or I walk.”

“Old sport, I don’t understand. Why’re you so sore about this? Don’t tell me you hate Pruny that much?”

“This has nothing to do with her.”

“R-Really? Then why–”

“I’m not taking care of another kid and that’s final.”

“‘–a-another’...?”

Jack winced at his Freudian slip.

“Sportsy, you’re not… a father–?”

“Drop it.

“But–”

“Get your ass off my oven so I can make dinner.”

“S-Sure, but– I already took care o’ that for ya! Least I could do!”

“What.”

“Even set the table and everything!”

Jack turned around to see the table with three plates of dark brown rectangles accompanied by glasses of what he presumed to be tap water.

“Y-You…”

Closer inspection of their “dinner” disconcerted Jack.

“What the hell did you DO to–!? Why Pop-Tarts!?”

“Heh heh! Not bad, eh–”

“–They’re CHARRED!”

“Yeah, ‘xactly!”

“WHAT D’YOU MEAN, ‘XACTLY’!?”

“Everything’s tastiest well-done!”

“Who raised you like this!?”

“Ah, no one in particular! Now quit yer belly-aching and just–”

“No no nosiree, you’re gonna take that so-called ‘dinner’ and go while I make us something that’s actually edible!”

“...Wait, so you– you’ll let her stay then?”

“Leave.”

“Son of a gun, you do have a heart rattlin’ around in there!”

“Tch–!”

Jack threw a Pop-Tart at him in lieu of a retort as he turned around for the fridge.

“Well, alright, if you reeeaallly don’t want me here t’ help out, then I supposed I’ll just be on m–

OH– Pruny, that shirt looks GREAT on you!~”

Jack looked back to see Dave looking down at the wet child who was leaned up against the wall corner in her horribly oversized shirt. Jack feared how long she might have been eavesdropping, although–

“Sw– Sweetie, you need to turn the shower off when you’re done–!”

“...Sweetie.”

Jack resisted the urge to commit a crime of passion as he walked past Dave’s insufferable grin.

(Chapter 5) ->

[dang-itshauntedinhere]

I Don't Love You, But I Always Will - Chapter 3

Summary:            

I watched The Exorcist with a friend and spent the entire time staring at Father Karras, so of course we crafted an elaborate story surrounding his and reader's life together. Falling in love with a Jesuit priest and watching his faith fall apart in front of you is not problematic at all actually, and your life in this story will proceed in abject simplicity. (Lies, slander) Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 (You are here) - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Find also on my Ao3

Divider by @racingairplanes

Word Count: 11k

When your life takes an unexpected turn, your world comes crashing down around you - so you find your way home.

TW: Emotional abuse, Miscarriage

Explaining it had been simple, and you’d asked Claire for a reason: you knew she could keep a secret. When she stopped by the house that afternoon to drop it off, she’d been smiling ear to ear - you tried your best to copy her excitement. She handed you the bag, the items concealed thoughtfully under a bag of brown sugar. 

“Thank you so much Claire, I really owe you one,” you said groggily, taking the bag from her outstretched hand. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” You hoped she would accept, you’d been brewing coffee all morning. The smell helped your nausea, but the pots on the stove boiling would seem excessive if you didn’t get rid of some of it. 

“No, no - I’d really love to, but I’ve got to get home, I’ve got ice cream in the car.” She said with a look of disappointment. “How are you feeling though, dear? Do you need anything else?” You shook your head with a smile.

“I’ll be alright,” you said. “I’ll call you.” She nodded, beaming with the joy of holding your secret. “I really don’t know anything yet - not a word, Claire.” She made a motion like she was zipping her mouth shut and turned to walk away, nearly bouncing with every step. 

You started toward the house, clutching the bag against your abdomen, anxiety and nausea rippling through you in cold waves. You listened as her tires crackled against the driveway.

“Oh Y/n?” She shouted from her window, and you looked at her, panicked at her shouting. Please don’t say anything obvious, you prayed, smiling across the lawn at her. “Ginger helps honey - ginger tea!” You nodded, waving as she rolled away. 

Finally in the safety of your home, you leaned against the door, relieved. You’d been sleeping most of the day - throwing up when you had the energy to be up. It had started a couple of days ago - you thought nothing of it at first, assuming it to be flu and moving on with your day. When it seemed to linger, however, you started to get nervous. Something was different. 

You pushed yourself from the door, dizzy for a moment before you could make your way to the kitchen. You set the bag on the counter and reached up to a cabinet. Ginger, huh? You opened the cabinet to search, pushing your way through boxes of tea. When you couldn’t find anything, you settled for peppermint. Mint is supposed to settle your stomach, right? 

You set the kettle on the stove, lifting the nearly empty pots of boiling coffee from the stove, holding your face over the steam for a moment before dumping them into the sink. With a moment of hesitation, you reached into the bag and retrieved two rectangular boxes, turning one over in your hand. With a sigh, you sank to the floor. You read the instructions for the pregnancy test, listening to the kettle rumble quietly behind you. Seems simple enough.

You stayed down there for a while, savoring the cool floor against your bare legs and closing your eyes. I’m sure most women are scared when it happens, you thought. The kettle started to whistle behind you. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound and hoped that it would drown everything out.

—

After wandering the house nervously for the first hour of the test, the nausea creeped back in - enough to drive you back to bed. You crawled under the covers, propping yourself against the headboard. You reached for the book on your side table, opening it to a worn page. Damien had mailed it to you a few weeks ago.

You’d already read through it - in fact it had been a gift to Damien, one where you left notes in the margins in blue ink. You’d been a little surprised when it arrived, but upon opening it, you found the margins were no longer just yours. Your questions and prompts were accompanied now by notes in black, and sometimes pencil, responding. You loved it. It was like a long-distance conversation that you could start at any time. 

The book was a relatively thin paperback copy of Their Eyes Were Watching God, a story that had astounded and captivated you. You weren’t sure how much Damien would enjoy it when you gave it to him - maybe that’s why he found parting with it so easy, you thought with a smile and an eye roll. 

Reading it again however, you found that the notes in the margins increased from a few scattered underlines and responses in the beginning chapters to sentences squeezed between lines, paragraphs wrapping around corners, cluttering any open space. All things considered, the book was nearly illegible in its last pages, but you found you were most excited to reach them. 

Continuing where you had left off, you reached the scene where Logan demands Janie work on the farm along with her work in the house. You’d enjoyed the painful comparison of her role to that of his mule: 

At least a mule can’t resent her place in the world. What an ass.

Haha

Interesting how such a cruel man has such little regard for gender roles. Or more regard?

More. He seems to enjoy the benefits of manhood enough. Perhaps all women are simply doomed

I wonder why a 15-year-old has such limited knowledge of keeping a home? :0

You mean women aren't genetically destined for the kitchen? Someone should have said something

Breaks my heart

Funny how it doesn't break his

An arrow pointed here with the message: Obviously not funny

You breathed a laugh. 

As the book continued, some of the messages were original, crowding around chapter numbers for room. 

I believe she is lucky he is not initially good to her. It might be harder to leave - I consider now that to love is to be held hostage - Too preachy?

I wish I could say men of the church were above all of this, but unfortunately it demands a separation of faith from institution -

The church does not speak on its past in the owning of people - one has to wonder 

Kidney failure: now that is an act of God I can appreciate

The shrill ring of the egg timer echoed in the master bathroom, and you swung your legs over the side of the bed, rushing to stop the noise. You snatched it from the vanity, intentionally keeping your eyes from the tests that were ready on the other side. You set the timer down shakily, and picked one up. 

A dark ring appeared around the bottom of the small tube. You swallowed thickly. You reached for the next one. Another positive. The room seemed to lurch as you sunk to the floor, bringing your knees up to your chest and holding yourself together as your world fell apart.

You’d told Claire that you weren’t sure, but that if it ended up being positive, you wanted to surprise Chris with the news, so you figured that bought you some time. Besides, you could wait to call her - maybe even tell her they were negative - these were a pretty new invention, after all. 

But you couldn’t fight the panic that set in with reason for long. Your thoughts ran out of control at the thought of having a baby. Of course you’d considered the possibility, it always felt like something that was on the horizon - but that had always been something for later. I guess it’s later now. Your head felt heavy and your throat constricted. What am I going to do? 

You took deep breaths and tried to stay calm. I’m married - this isn’t some crime of passion, it’s what married women are supposed to do. This is what I’m supposed to do. The panic cooled as you pulled together thoughts of your friends with children, thoughts of your students, all the times you’d watched the children during mass - children were wonderful. Of course, children were difficult, dirty, and life-consuming, but they were wonderful. I can work with wonderful, you thought.

A sweet numbness, not quite joy, but not panic either, settled over you. Raising from the floor, you busied yourself with disposing of the evidence, grateful that this bathroom was “yours,” and that Chris used the one down the hall. You would tell Jo at dinner next week, she would know what to do next. Until then, you would convince yourself of the idea. 

A pang of guilt resonated in your mind - Why not tell Chris? He’s my husband, he should be the first to know. You knew already that you couldn’t tell him. Something held you back, and prodding at the feeling sent a shock of fear through you. Not yet. I’ll tell him eventually, you reasoned, pushing the feeling away. Just… not yet.

You wandered back to bed, enjoying a quiet breeze through the open window and sighing in the heat of the afternoon. You sat there for a moment, letting your thoughts go blank. You opened the book again.

He hurts her if she stays, someone new hurts her if she leaves. What would you tell her? 

I submit to the idea that everything happens for a reason - but I think “God’s plan” is often misunderstood. I think God obliges us to the ones we love. This is not love.

—

You were grateful the Martins had agreed to have dinner at your house tonight, it gave you a chance to choose a menu you could stomach. That meant chicken and dumplings. Your recipe was good enough and the heat had subdued with the evening- no one had noticed. It was just as likely no one had questioned your choice at all, despite its simplicity for a family meal. Were you being paranoid? Maybe.

Keeping the secret was surprisingly easy, but nerve-wracking. You wished it wasn’t summer break - going back to work might have helped, but thinking of your students now… also made the secret harder to keep. It had only been about a week since the positive tests. It just didn't feel real yet. It may have been the denial fading, then, that made your heart race as you thought about this recipe. Your mother would make this for you when you were sick. The wave of warmth and nostalgia washed over you as you made quiet conversation. Maybe being a mother wouldn’t be so bad.

Your mind drifted through possible names, through halloween costumes, through swim lessons and birthday parties and singing, through childrens’ books and screaming laughs and splashing in puddles. You thought about all the pictures you’d take, the height marks against the wall, the bright eyes. 

This feeling always left you awash with joy - I guess this is what people are talking about when they say someone’s *glowing.* Lost in thought, you tried to hold on to the feeling, chasing memories you had yet to make.

“Dear?” You felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at Jo, who looked at you with concerned eyes. You shook your head slightly as the feeling flitted away. 

“Sorry, lost in thought,” you said with a smile. Your heart sank slightly as you looked around, suddenly aware. “I’m sorry, did anyone need anything? Oh the jell-o!” You rose slowly at first, then all at once struck by the memory of the orange jell-o setting in the fridge - hopefully not frozen.

You hurried to the fridge, pulling out the mold and slowly turning it onto a plate. The orange surface was maybe a little too stiff, but glassy and cool nonetheless. You sighed with relief. 

“It’s alright,” you called to the dining room, carrying the platter shakily to the table. Chris watched from the table, with a puzzled look on his face. 

“Sorry about that,” you said with a laugh.

“Seems like you’ve been lost in thought a lot lately,” He put a hand on your arm. “What’s going on with you?” You stood there for a moment, face hot in the spotlight. A chill prickled over your skin and you swallowed thickly. You hated being put on the spot, and this was not the time. 

“It’s just that flu lingering.” You smiled and patted his hand. “I always seem to get sick in the summer - good thing work was keeping you out of the house, you might’ve caught it.” You deflected the question, starting to gather empty plates. 

You caught Chris’ expression in the corner of your eye. He seems convinced. Jo joined you in clearing the plates as your husband delved into the gelatin. Retreating to the kitchen with the plates, you wondered if you imagined the sigh you shared, the facade falling. Something about holding a smile like that… It felt like speaking to a particularly anxious student - like trying to get ahead of something. You looked at Jo in the moment you shared in the kitchen, her face blank, eyes tired. What must it be like, staying ahead of him? You returned to the dining room, resolved to keep your joy buried a little deeper.

“-is a pretty broad topic, so there’s a lot to consider. Feels like each time I’m close to completing it, something happens that proves my point just a little bit more, and then I just have to add it.” Chris spoke with serious excitement about his book. You were pretty sure you could pass a philosophy exam with all he’d told you at this point - and that look he would get in his eye, that furrowed brow, that deep patience for questions and discussion - you always thought he was at his best when he was talking about his work. 

“I think it’ll make some waves with the current political climate, I’ve just got to finish it in this lifetime.” He smiled. “Actually, the women’s movement is my current inspiration.”

“Oh?” You asked, genuinely intrigued. Chris had never been one to spend much time outside of his own head, maybe this was a sign of change? He straightened, his eyes bright with the thrill of an audience. 

“Make your speech,” You prompted, scooting forward and shooting him a curious smile. 

“Well, women’s issues and inequalities have been the subject of philosophical debate since men learned to think,” He smiled a little at that. “And what we’re seeing as the women’s movement is a product of everything that has been thought of, decided, and enacted upon women for years. But I would argue that what we perceive as an independent movement of collective thought is rather the work of fate.”

“I think, then, if we work backwards from this conclusion, we find that all of the things these women are protesting, and saying ‘should never have happened,’ were always going to happen. And, that whatever outcome is reached from the movement, if change occurs at all, will have been destined to happen as well,” He continued, gesturing following his words in clear movements. You looked at him with a degree of confusion, nodding for him to go on.

“So, I don’t think we can blame them for questioning it all, but I also think that if change occurs, will it be anything more than the re-packaging of every other social movement that has ever occurred? And to that extent, will it prove to actually change anything? Women are biologically destined for certain events in their lives - and collectively, until now, have never objected to that.” He said it as if it was a fact, but you suddenly found him very opinionated, and a little cold-blooded to reduce the movement to a personal marketing decision, and a futile one at that. Your skin crawled. 

“If we see change, it will have been the product of everything women have never objected to before - think childcare, marriage, preparation of food - ” He looked at his father expectantly. 

“Do we see women, on a mass scale, demanding to be put on the front lines?” he replied, amused.

“Socially, I'd argue that it was always going to happen, but biologically, it was never meant to be. Simple as that. We’ll have to see where it goes, but it’s just another layer of a repeating pattern, and choosing a side is pointless. The pattern was decided on a long time ago - all we can ever do is catch up to it.” He seemed satisfied with that, smiling as he returned to his dessert. Your face flushed with rage, and you watched as your parents-in-law nodded along, understanding. Even Jo seemed convinced. The conversation continued, muffled by a ringing in your ears. Your stomach turned and the room swam around you, like the air above a car on a hot summer day. 

“Excuse me,” you blurted quietly, pushing yourself away from the table and forcing yourself to walk, rather than run to the bathroom. You shut the door with careful silence, breathing ragged breaths through clenched teeth as you crumpled onto the floor. You backed away from the door, your back finding the cool side of the bathtub, mind reeling with a crashing realization. Cold tears dripped silently from your chin.

The feeling at the back of your mind revealed itself in all its snarling glory, the same one that had you hesitating with the thought of having this baby. If I have a daughter, she will grow up to be just like me. Your breaths were tight and fast. He’ll teach her to be a slave to responsibility, to be perfect and quiet, to marry a man who takes everything from her. You pressed a cold hand to your mouth, quieting your broken breaths. If I have a son, he’ll be just like him. He will take him far, far away from me and everything I can teach him. Whoever you are, you are doomed.

All at once, you could see what it had all done to you. Your mind was silent as you rose, slowly turning to the mirror, looking at a person you didn’t recognize. Clothes you didn’t own, hair longer and straighter than yours, dull eyes full of tears and surrounded in dark rings. I am doomed.

—

Big TW for miscarriage here, regulate your reading and proceed with caution.

—

You faced into the fan perched next to your window, relishing in the cool breeze on your brow. The school didn’t have air conditioning, and your room was on the second floor, so the heat was overbearing. The tinny clatter of the highest setting filled the room, white noise you welcomed, drowning out your thoughts. You sighed. It had been two weeks since your realization in the bathroom. Home hadn’t felt right since - you were grateful for the upcoming school year, you could bury yourself in work in the classroom, refusing to think about anything other than ordering finger paints and writing lesson plans.

There were a few other teachers here relatively early, and you had the occasional quick conversation with them as they passed your open door. You wonder if anyone could tell.

You were sorting through slides of animals and places, holding them up to the sun through the blinds and labeling them, when you felt it. Your back slowly tensed, a deep ache spreading through your abdomen. The pain wasn’t so bad, but it made you stop for a moment, and breathe slowly through your nose. The pain subsided. 

You pressed a hand to your back and straightened. This chair is finally catching up to me, you thought. You decided to move to the lounge - where the couches are. You smiled at the thought - and where the ac unit is. You collected the slides, a few piles of work, and your keys, feeling the ache seep in again. You gritted your teeth and left for the lounge, walking slowly. 

Entering the lounge, you sighed in the cool air. Two other women had the same idea, Mrs. Farrow and Claire sat at the round table in the middle of the room, chatting over their work, papers strewn between them. 

“Mind if I join you?” You asked with a smile, unloading your pile on a side table next to a sinking orange couch. You collapsed carefully into the deep cushions, the springs creaking under your weight. “It’s got to be almost 100 degrees up there.” They laughed with you, and you marveled at how Mrs. Farrow’s salt and pepper hair somehow managed to keep its height in the heat, thinking of your own frizzy bun. 

“Dehlia, you’ve got to tell me how you keep your hair looking that good,” you said. She chuckled.

“Honey, I’ve been up on the second floor a lot longer than you have,” she said with a smile. “What took you so long? We’ve been down here for hours.” 

“I have no idea,” you said, leaning your head back onto the arm of the chair, swinging your legs across the couch. “Ah-” You gasped at this new wave, the pain gripping around to your entire abdomen, stealing your breath away. You shut your eyes hard, mouth open in a silent wail. It felt like it held on like that for minutes before it finally let go. You breathed a shaky gasp, static filling your mind as you tried to catch your breath. Panic was starting to set in as the color drained from the room. With a jolt, you felt a cool hand on your shoulder.

“Honey, are you okay?” Claire’s voice ebbed in, ringing. You wanted to nod, to look over and tell her you were fine, that it was just your back hurting, but you were frozen, waiting for the pain to return. Your thoughts were spinning out of control - you barely heard her next words. “Y/n look at me, what’s going on?”

Mrs. Farrow’s face joined Claire’s now, and you pushed out a response.

“M’ okay, just need the bathroom-” You swung your legs over gingerly. I just need to be alone, you thought, trying to put thoughts to words and failing embarrassingly, only stammering. Claire crouched in front of you, hands on your shoulders, keeping you down. Mrs. Farrow pressed a cool hand to your forehead.

“I think you need to lay down,” she said. “You have no color at all!” You shook your head, bracing yourself before standing shakily, the two women moving to support you. They helped drag you to the small attached bathroom while you tried to say something. 

You sunk to the floor, Claire holding your hand as Mrs. Farrow looked down at you, a hand over her mouth. 

“Call Christian, Dehlia, she needs to go to a hospital,” Claire said. Mrs. Farrow nodded, turning to leave the small room, but you reached out, catching the edge of her skirt and holding on as tightly as you could, awake enough now to a single thought, no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NONONO-

“No!” you croaked, looking up at her, pleading with every fiber of your being. “No, no, no, he can’t know-” you stopped with a strangled yelp, the pain flooding back around you. All you could do was curl up on the floor, holding your breath and sweating against the dirty green tile. 

You heard her leave the room in a rush, and panic buzzed through you, static filling your ears - I can’t - she can’t- 

You blacked out.

—

You weren’t sure how long those two women stayed with you - hours? All night? You breathed slowly and sipped metallic tap water from a mug, shivering, but conscious. You felt empty with exhaustion. 

Mrs. Farrow leaned against the door frame - the lounge was dark behind her, the yellow glow of a light overhead projecting a halo over her. You almost smiled at the image. You’d gotten to know these women well in the last few hours. She knew what you were going through - the cool dark of her eyes were profoundly sad behind the brave face she wore. She assured you it wasn’t your fault, that sometimes these things happen, but she didn’t tell you to smile. She didn’t tell you to feel better. She didn’t tell you not to cry. 

Claire had been by your side the whole time - your life line. She held onto you and coached you through the worst cramps. She held your hair away from your face when you vomited, listened to your stammering, and distracted you by telling you all about the play she had been to see a few weeks ago - Applause with Lauren Bacall. 

You had all aged a millennia tonight - their eyes were deep and bloodshot, hair frizzy, clothes rumpled and jackets ruined. You almost laughed at the thought of how you probably looked. How can I ever repay them?

You were feeling relatively well for everything that had happened, but the shaky, cold feeling still worried you. You knew you had to go to the hospital - but the idea of leaving the small green bathroom, of leaving Claire and Mrs. Farrow, of telling a doctor everything that had happened, of them seeing- You couldn’t do it. 

“Is-” Claire hesitated to ask you, looking askance before meeting your hollow stare, resolute. “Dear, is there someone we can call?” You looked away and swallowed. You knew you should call Chris. You also knew you wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Maybe…

“You need to go to a doctor, honey.” Mrs. Farrow’s tired voice joined Claire’s pleading look. You nodded slowly.

“Yes,” You said, voice quiet. You had someone you could call.

—

The sun was rising by the time you left the hospital. You were lucky - it was a complete miscarriage, and the doctor let you go with some light pain medicine. Part of you was nervous about some kind of complication, and the pain still radiated through you, but you were grateful to get out of the hospital so quickly. 

Jo helped you into the car carefully, her tidy beige coat draped over your slumped shoulders. She’d been at the school in mere moments - eyes glassy. She only asked a few questions - Claire and Mrs. Farrow helped you answer as you stood slowly. You thought you’d cried every tear in your body - but falling into her tight embrace had you sobbing silently again. She said she was glad you called her. Told you you were so brave. 

You didn’t need to tell her to lie to the doctor when you shuffled into the hospital at around 2am - she drove a little ways out of the city to the next closest emergency room and signed you in as her daughter, explaining that her son-in-law was out of town, and had been informed. You stared ahead blankly through swollen eyes. 

Now, as she drove you home through the rising sun, she asked you if you wanted to go home. 

The question struck you dumb - and remembering your husband lit a violent strike through you. Yes, you begged internally. I want to go home. Away from here. Back to the city. Back to my small apartment, back to my parents, back to smoke and shade and noise and painting and safety. I want to go home. Please. 

“Yes,” you answered. The thought of being in that big, hot house all alone scared you though, and in your streak of relying on her, you asked one more favor. “Jo, I know I’ve asked you for a lot tonight- but…” She looked over at you, expectant. “Could you- would you stay with me? Just for a little while?”

She looked ahead at the road and smiled.

“Of course.” She sniffed. You sighed. 

“Thank you.” You said. 

—

Jo hadn't lied on one account: Chris really was out of town, as he so often was in the summer. Conferences, research, and binge-writing sessions kept him out of the house often. Sometimes he worked from his office, the shrill clunking of the typewriter resonating through the house into the early hours. You were grateful this was not one of those times. 

When you crawled into bed that morning, you wanted to sleep forever. Just… close your eyes and slip away. All you knew was that you didn’t want to do what you had to do next. Your thoughts blurred as you sank into a deep sleep, only barely registering that Jo had crept through to close the blinds. 

When you awoke, sweat clung to you in an oppressive sheen, your sheets sticky. You laid there for a while, thoughts swimming in the heat. You could hear Jo on the phone downstairs, the tall ceilings and ajar door carrying a few words to you. She was talking to Dr. Martin. Telling him you were sick - the flu had come back worse, and you needed to be alone. She was taking care of it. She’d be home later to fix his dinner. 

You pushed yourself away from the cling of the sheets and swung your legs over the side of the bed slowly. The pain had faded now to nothing more than a dull throb, and your hands had stopped their shaking. You looked at the clock on the wall - 6:23pm. 

Jo had placed your medicine next to your bed with a glass of water, the outside dewy in the humid air. You gulped a couple of pills down and finished the glass, gasping. Combing your hands through your hair, you found it tangled and dirty. You stayed like that for a few moments, head in your hands, stealing a moment to enjoy the lack of pain before it washed over you again every few moments.

When Jo walked in with a tray, you looked up, blinking through swollen eyes. 

“You’re awake,” she said with some shock, setting the tray down at the end of the bed and pressing the back of her hand to your temple. “You look a lot better.” You breathed a small smile. 

“Do you think you convinced him? Was he too upset?” you asked suddenly, previously unspoken words now spoken. Something about the last several hours had your mind feeling clear, and frankly, a little blunt. She hesitated for only a moment - you could almost hear the wall come down between you as she sat down on the bed next to you. 

“No… he believed me easily enough,” she answered, quietly. You sat there in silence for a minute. “He- he’s a good man-”

“Jo,” you squeezed her hand. She looked down. 

“It’s my life dear,” she said with a sad smile, sniffing. “He’s my husband. I love him.” You nodded as she turned for the tray by her side, handing you a warm mug of savory-smelling soup. You breathed the salty steam for a moment, your nose running and head loosening a bit with the heat. 

“Oh thank you,” you said, smiling at her over the edge as you took a sip. She watched you, expression lightening. “I think this is the best soup I’ve ever had in my life.”

You stayed like that for a while, making easy conversation and drinking beef and barley soup from a mug, ignoring everything that hurt.

—

You didn’t leave the house for a few days. Jo visited you a few times a day, bringing you meals and passing a few hours by reading, or mindlessly watching television. You couldn’t hold up a conversation very well. Claire and Mrs. Farrow visited once too. They brought you cookies, but you didn’t feel like eating.

You enjoyed the company while it lasted, but it was only a matter of time before they were gone again, a sad look and a gentle touch lingering as they left. The rest of the time you spent in bed, all the shades drawn and a fan pointed in from the window. 

Sometimes you would wander the house, stopping to clean a surface mindlessly until your hands were raw and red. Sometimes you would just… lay on the floor, trying to quiet your mind. Nothing seemed to work. 

Biologically, it was never meant to be. Simple as that. Simple as that, simple as that, simple as that, his words rang in your mind. You felt… hollow. Empty. You didn’t even feel like crying anymore. You didn’t know what to do. It was easier to just sleep.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, you found yourself on the floor of your room, sweating through your clothes. You weren’t sure what time it was - what day is it? Pushing yourself up slowly, you blinked in a stripe of pale sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains. 

Rising slowly to your feet, you crept to your unmade bed in the dark and sat on the edge. Biologically it was never meant to be. Simple as that. You looked down at the table. Down at the clock that read 6:31pm. Down at the book you started- before it all. Turning on the bedside lamp with a wince, you opened the worn book to the marked page. 

He hurts her if she stays, someone new hurts her if she leaves. What would you tell her? 

I submit to the idea that everything happens for a reason - but I think “God’s plan” is often misunderstood. I think God obliges us to the ones we love. This is not love.

You looked up from the page - this is not love. And just like that, you decided. It was time to leave. You’d go home. You let your head fall back with a sigh, a few cool tears falling silently. Resolute, you rolled your shoulders around stiffly, cracking your back and taking a quick breath. With your mission clear in mind, you rose to your feet - a bright, flaring will fueling your every move. I have so much work to do, you thought.

With that, you carried yourself to the shower, turning the hot water on before walking back to the bedroom to make the bed. With each step, you told yourself you were a terrible wife. A terrible daughter. A terrible friend. Deceiving, distrustful, guarded, cowardly - a grieving, overreacting mess of a woman. 

As you scrubbed your skin in the scalding water, the thoughts faded to the low, desperate blaze of your fury. You unburied every memory of his condescending speeches, his raised voice, his candy-sweet, biting comments, his lingering, empty touches, his excuses - your fear, your complacency, your blindness - I’ve wasted so much time. 

The cool tile felt like ice through the rolling steam as you stepped out. The relief of your decision had settled easily over you - but each moment you stayed in the house was worse than the last, like realizing you were drowning at the bottom of the ocean, clawing through miles of black, praying that it wasn’t too late. 

Every movement was frantic. The house contorted neatly to its pristine coldness, your two-week notice lay neatly folded in a stark white envelope on the desk, and deep, golden light fell over the house by the late evening. Like you were never there. 

You hadn’t known how to start a letter to Chris - what could you say? You stared at the paper for a long time, lost for words. Everything with him had always been so easy for you before - you always knew what to do, what to say. You’d gladly siphoned away your life and your personhood to him, it just felt like what you were supposed to do. Now - tearing away - you didn’t know where to start.

Cold fear swept in around you then - what will he do when he finds out?

You scribbled out a few weak sentences - I’m going home for a while… Not sure when I’ll be back… I’ll call…I’ll write… You figured that you would at some point, and until then, he would survive. He’s a smart man - he’ll be alright. You couldn’t bear to think about him for another moment - his furrowed brow as he’d read your note, his confusion, his heartbreak. So you folded the note into a peak, and set it squarely on the desk. I refuse to spend another moment on his heart. He never could spare a moment for mine. 

With that, fiery urgency filled you once more, the dark sky like a ticking clock, reminding you he would be back in the morning. You packed in silence, working single-mindedly by the dim light of the lamp. You took only what you needed- only what was beloved. 

Your favorite clothes, most of which were old and dusty at the back of your closet, pushed there years ago. Some money you'd tucked away in a cigar box, your jewelry, some hygiene essentials. The silence of the house echoed, and you worked faster. Important papers, another pair of shoes, drawings and notes from your students. You made sure to bring the book, nestling it among Damien’s letters. Pictures of your family. Scribbled phone numbers and addresses on the back of an empty envelope. A few recipe cards of your mother's. Your two bags were almost full. It was like a bad dream - this is all I have. 

“Y/n?” A small voice called from the dark of the hallway, freezing you in place. Your blood was icy cold as you stared like a deer in headlights, watching with bated breath as Jo stepped into the room, wide-eyed. You didn’t hear her come in. 

She’s here to stop me. She’ll tell Chris, she’ll tell everybody- 

“Please,” was all you managed to say. A tear fell from her eye, a deep frown clear on her face. “I’m sorry-” you choked. I can’t leave her with them, you realized. She’d be all alone. This was the worst doubt you’d felt in hours - you’d stay if it meant she’d be safe. You’d stay if it meant she’d have someone. You’d stay if she asked you to. 

But she didn’t. She let out a shaky sigh and began to help you pack. The relief, the gratitude, the guilt washed over you as you followed suit, tears flooding your vision. 

“You don’t have much time,” she said as she zipped your suitcase closed. You looked up. “The latest bus leaves in an hour. From there you can catch the midnight train out of state.” 

“What-” You sniffed, astounded. “How did you know?”

“I look at the bus schedule every day.” She smiled. “I think about leaving here - every day. Every day.” She shook her head with a broken laugh, smearing a tear away with the back of her hand. You noticed the red bruise forming underneath, barely noticeable under her thick makeup. You were at her side in a moment, gathering her in your arms and sinking to the floor. She shook with quiet, laughing sobs, clinging to you for dear life. 

“Come with me,” You asked, looking bleary-eyed over her. “Please, Jo. You can get out. You can stay with me. You can be free. Please.”  You knew what she would say. She stayed like that for a moment, face buried in your shoulder, not saying a word. Then she drew away from you, smiling with her hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. You thought it was the saddest thing you’d ever seen. She sighed heavily.

“I’m too old, and too old-fashioned, dear.” She said, slipping back into her familiar resignation. “He can’t go without me- and I can’t go without him.” She sniffed.

“I won’t leave you-” you started to protest.

“You have to. Or you’ll never do it,” she said, gripping you and looking into your eyes with determination. “It’s time.” She smiled again - this one was real. Her face was bright in the deep shadows of the room as she stood. You nodded. 

—

Jo drove you to the bus station in the dark, and you spent the time in terrified silence, watching the red taillights float along outside the window. It had been years since you were alone - what will I do? Where will I go? 

You thought of all of your friends here, the other teachers, the other wives. You thought of Mrs. Farrow and Claire - you thought of Jo. You’d never been alone here, they’d made sure of that. So you thought of your friends who were still in the city, the people who had gotten you through the long nights at school, who had helped you move into your first apartment, who had been there at your wedding. 

You thought of Damien and his mother. No, I can’t - they’ve already done so much for me. You thought about the letters stacked in your suitcase. You knew they would help you, he wouldn’t think twice about it. But you knew his mother was - well, to put it lightly, not doing well. You refused to be a burden to them. I can find something. But… the thought of seeing Damien again was comforting. He was your best friend, and though you felt abysmally guilty for it, you were a little excited. 

You thought of your parents. Of course I could go home - god, I’d love to go home, you thought. Christmas two years ago had been wonderful - everything felt right in that moment, however short it had been. Your parents are retired now, though, and your father spends most of his time taking care of your mother, who had started going blind a few years ago. Regardless, they were in good spirits when you saw them, though you remembered their silence as you told them about Chris and his work - as you told them about the party. They’d been insinuating that they wanted you to come live at home in their letters since. 

But they were on a slim fixed income now. And worse, I hate to even imagine - Chris knew where they lived. If he did come looking for you, he’d look there first. You wanted to avoid that at all costs. You needed somewhere to hide for a few months - somewhere you could restart, where you could heal. 

You thought of Sharon. You hadn’t written to her for a few months now, but from what you remembered, she was living in Georgetown, working as a personal secretary and tutor for a rich Hollywood family living there. She had a boyfriend - but he was in California. She didn’t know anything about what had happened in the last few weeks - and she hated living alone. So, you elected to call Sharon on the first phone you found in the morning. I still don’t like the idea of relying on her until I can find a job, but… I can’t do this alone. 

Having a plan, however uncertain, helped you steady yourself as you stepped out of the car next to the station, hot exhaust collecting in the street as the bus idled in the cool night air. You rushed to load your luggage - the bus would only stay another few minutes.

Reality sunk in fast as you approached the open door, Jo pressing a worn ticket into your hand. Her ticket. You hugged her one more time. Your heart beat fast as your chest grew tight.

“I’ll write-” you said over the engine. “If you ever need me, if you decide to go - I’ll come get you, just say the word- promise you’ll tell me?” She was quiet.

“Promise me!” You looked at her eyes. She looked away for a moment and nodded. 

“Okay.” She took your hands in hers. “Take care of yourself. Please.” She smiled at you. 

“I will.” You stepped back. “I love you. God I don’t know how I can ever thank you-”

“Don’t look back.” She said, holding your gaze, resolute. “I’ll look for your letter - even if you don’t write your name on it, I’ll find it.” You nodded as the brakes hissed - you had to go now. With one last look, you kissed her cheek and rushed to board the bus, avoiding the bloodshot eyes peering over their seats at you, waiting for you to sit down. You found a seat far in the back, and the bus lurched as it began to speed away. You watched her headlights get smaller and smaller as you moved, until they were nothing but pinpricks in the dark. And then you were gone. 

— 

The day was overcast, and a thick fog blanketed the track as Damien ran. With each step, new pavement revealed itself through the mist. Good for losing track of time, he thought. Days like this, he’d run until he couldn’t anymore, and as his steps grew shaky and his breaths stung in the cold air, he decided this lap would be his last. 

Rounding the last corner, he ran a little faster as the steely shine of the bleachers appeared through the fog, along with the distinct form of a person sitting at the far end, watching him. As he got closer, he could make out the soft brown of her long coat and the color of the scarf wrapped casually over her hair. He slowed to a stop with a huff as she stepped down from the bleachers, two paper take away coffee cups in hand. 

It had been about a month since he’d started seeing her in Georgetown again. At first he thought he’d been seeing things - her face among a crowd, a flash of her distinct hair color on the floor of Carol’s station at the salon when he visited, her laugh floating over a sea of voices while he waited in line. Of course he’d always brushed it off - it seemed to be in his nature to see her everywhere, it wasn't the first time.

But when she had appeared in the church, struggling alongside Sister Tallis to lift a long-faded painting from the wall of the south hall, he had frozen in his tracks. Her hair was cut much shorter than he remembered, regaining some of its original shape after having been straightened when he saw her last, a bandana holding it away from her face. 

She wore a tattered, olive green smock with the sleeves rolled up to the bend of her elbows and a pair of boxy jeans rolled up at the cuffs. She’s painting again. As she spoke, her voice was clear and light, and her movements were steady, if a bit hesitant. She seemed like she’d returned to the land of the living, in a manner of speaking. And when she’d looked down the hall to where he stood, she smiled, and despite all her energy and color, he’d noticed a shadow in her eyes - a deep sadness that lurked quietly under her joy. 

After that, you’d started taking walks, getting coffee, eating, and reading together often. You saw each other almost every day - if she didn’t find him, he’d find her. She told him a little about the last few months, but not much. Only that she’d left Chris, and stayed with Sharon for a few weeks before the church hired her to do some restoration work. Along with a few other projects and a slot lecturing art history at the university, she’d made enough for a small apartment nearby. He didn’t push for anymore details - he knew there were things she wasn’t telling him, but he also knew that they hurt enough to have her looking away, knuckles white and voice growing quiet. He didn’t mind. He was just glad to have his friend back. 

He did find however, that he hit a lot harder in practice when he imagined the bag with Christian Martin’s face.

“Almost didn’t see you in the fog. Good run?” She asked, handing him one of the cups. He looked down at it. 

“Is this water?” He asked, a little disappointed. She laughed.

“I read somewhere that coffee dehydrates you!” she said. He took a long drink, emptying the cup quickly. 

“I know that,” he said as you started to walk. I needed that - but she doesn’t need to know. He feigned a deep frown. 

“Pfff-” She set the full cup into the empty one he held, the familiar bitter smell of black coffee drifting up from the dark drink. “You know I don’t like coffee.” She smiled. 

“Hm.” his frown broke into a small smile as he took a short drink. She took his arm, as usual. “If this was a scheme to get me to buy you a tea, it’s working.” She smiled mischievously, not meeting his eyes. He drank the coffee slowly as you walked, listening as she talked about her work on the towering painting that hung in the sanctuary, and her anxiety in working on such a tall ladder. 

“I can hold it for you if you like,” Damien offered. She sighed. 

“Not for hours at a time you can’t,” she said with a laugh, looking up at him. “I’d appreciate it if you made sure I have white flowers at my funeral, though.” He knew it was a joke, but he pulled her a little closer nonetheless. 

He hadn’t told her this, but those two years since seeing her at Christmas had been… terrifying. He kept thinking of how miserable she looked, of how ragged her voice was, how tattered and calloused her hands had been. He didn’t know if Chris had ever hit her, but he knew enough to gather that he was something of a narcissist, and that he was, at the least, emotionally abusive.

The thought of letting her go back to him, once he’d held her in his arms at the station - he almost couldn’t let go. But she loved him. And she could take care of herself. So he resigned himself to writing her letters whenever he could, and praying. When he stopped hearing from her out of the blue two months ago, he'd assumed the worst. 

He’d sit awake in his room, imagining that Chris had forbidden her from writing to him, that Chris had taken her somewhere farther away where he’d never see you again, that Chris had finally hurt her- he didn’t know what to do. 

So he waited, and prayed that she was safe. Somewhere along the line, he started to pray that she would leave him. That she would come home. He knew that God didn’t work that way - but asked all the same. And here she was.

—

Damien loved to watch her paint. Restore, he could hear her say, telling him for the 100th time - she was painting all the same. She stuck out her tongue when she was really focused, and wore thick glasses that he assumed gave her a closer look at the finer details. Every movement was so slow and controlled, it barely looked like she was moving at all. But gradually, she could bring a painting back from the dead - push new life and color into once dusty faces, and bring out details that were once unnoticeable. It was like magic.

“Father Karras.” A voice called behind him. He turned to find Father Hale walking towards him, hands behind his back.

“Father Hale,” Damien greeted him in a civil tone. Some part of him found it strange that she would have an audience of anyone other than him - besides, Father Hale carried with him everywhere an obtrusive piousness that seemed to drown any interesting conversation. He was pretty sure the man had no inkling of his dislike, however, and preferred to keep it that way. “Good to see St. Michael is getting a makeover, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He stopped beside him, watching her work for a moment, before looking over at Damien. “May I… have a word with you, Father?” 

Damien looked over at him, puzzled, but nodded. Father Hale turned to walk down the hall as Damien followed. They walked until they reached the far end of the hall, turning into an office. Father Hale shut the door behind them.

“What can I do for you?” Damien asked, trying to hide his annoyance. Father Hale’s voice was condescending in tone as he spoke. 

“I’m worried about you Karras, that’s all,” his face showed genuine concern. Damien held back a scoff.

“Go on,” Damien said.

“It’s been good to see you in better spirits since Mrs. Martin joined us,” He said. Damien shot him a dark look. Don’t call her that, he thought. He suddenly didn’t care about whatever Hale said next, but he stayed silent despite himself.

“But I’ve noticed you together outside this church-” he said, looking out the window to the street. “It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Karras.” He looked at him, all at once serious. Damien was furious - what is he insinuating?

“She’s a friend - what are you trying to say?” Damien raised his voice. Hale stepped toward him, undeterred.

“You’re young,” he said, stern. “She’s married, and you have taken an oath to serve our lord in poverty, obedience, and chastity. What else is the church meant to assume, with her parading you about like a-” Damien closed the distance between them in a moment, towering over Hale and gripping his collar in his fist.

“What? Like what, Hale?” He wanted him to say it. To call her whatever he was going to call her so he could make sure he knew he couldn’t get away with saying it. All he could hear was his pulse roaring in his ears, grateful now for the closed door. Hale paled - stammering. He held his gaze like that for a moment, daring him to say something. The man seemed to steel himself then, pushing Damien away in a huff, a bead of sweat formed on his broad forehead. 

As the roaring in his ears died down, he watched as Hale straightened his collar with a huff. 

“I won’t listen to this for another moment. How dare you doubt my vows?” Damien shook as he spoke, breathing even. He knew, deep down, he couldn’t do anything. Hale always had the Bishop’s ear - and she’d despise him if he ever hurt anyone in her name. He took a deep breath. “Good day, Father Hale.” 

Hale held his eyes, furious, but too intimidated to stop him as he slammed the door behind him. 

Damien had never made an enemy like that before in the church - he wasn’t sure if it would mean anything - but Hale's words had found their target. He thought of his vows for a moment, and of her-

He stopped. He could see the ladder standing empty in the sanctuary, and as he walked closer, her palate and the thick glasses lay on the floor - paint splattered as if she’d dropped it. He walked faster.

“Y/n?” He called, fear rising in his chest.

She’d stepped in the paint - a trail of yellow-tan paint leading a patchy trail to the side hall. Snatching his coat from where it lay over a pew, he rushed to follow it to the courtyard door. 

—

You were focused on a shadow. The shadow under St. Michael’s chin to be exact - it had long since lost its darkness, and you needed to bring it out - softly. Times like these, you wondered how Raphael managed such soft shadows with such clear contrast. All the same, the challenge was wonderful. You missed restoration with all your heart, and getting to return to it now, and on a Raphael, too. Well, at least a damn good copy. You knew it wasn’t the real thing - it had been in the Louvre since 1667, after all. I’m going to make it a better copy, you thought, smiling to yourself as you dabbed on the smallest speck of the deep yellow-black-

“Y/N.” You froze completely, breath hitching and blood running ice cold. You knew that voice. You prayed you’d imagined it. No, this isn’t happening-

“Y/N!” Chris yelled again. You dropped the palate, the loud clattering echoing over Chris’ deep bellowing. You shook, gripping the ladder with all your strength as you pulled the glasses from your face, setting them on the table of the ladder with a clatter. You turned your head slowly to look down at him. 

He stood about 20 feet away from the base of the ladder, eyes blazing and mouth open in shock. 

The few other people in the sanctuary looked on in confusion, some staring, some averting their eyes with obvious effort. You didn’t want to go down there. 

“Please-” He choked. His strangled voice struck you as his gaze softened. You watched his face, now noticing the thick stubble and dark shadows under his eyes - his hair unkempt. He looked… miserable. “I just want to talk- can we just talk? Please?” You hesitated for another moment, white noise filling your ears in the dead silence of the room. You nodded, and descended the ladder slowly, hands trembling. 

Panic distracted you as your feet found the floor, and you missed the last step, the ladder jumping with a clatter. Your glasses fell with an echoing ‘clack,' Chris’ hands biting into your shoulder and arm, steadying you. Too tight, you thought, fear spiking through you. You looked down the hall, searching for Damien. Please, please, please, you begged for him to appear. You didn’t see him. 

Chris released you after a moment, hands hovering near you, afraid you might bolt. 

“Follow me,” you said, walking slowly to the side hallway - I won't do this here, you thought. But you made sure to smear your foot in the paint before you turned, trailing a pattern of light-colored paint as you walked. Please find me, please. 

You didn’t think he’d hurt you - but you didn’t know what he would do like this, his eyes bloodshot and tear-stained. Your thoughts spun, screaming that this was a bad idea, that you should stay where the people are- but your feet carried you to the courtyard door all the same.

You held the door for him and closed it behind you, stepping out onto the stone landing. Steps fell away from the landing about eight feet away from the double doors, and Chris stood in the sun a few feet away from the edge. Though the sun had seemingly emerged, the day was still bitingly cold, and you shivered in the realization that you had left your coat inside. Can I even get back in this way? You wanted to check, but Chris’ gaze had you locked in place. You held your arms at the elbows, steadying yourself in the cold.

“How are you?” he asked. It surprised you. 

“I’m alright,” you said. That soft tone in his voice - you weren’t prepared for it. It broke your resolve. Maybe he’s here to listen, you thought hopefully. “How have you been?” He snorted.

“I’ve been better,” he said, looking down. “How could- do you know how worried I’ve been?” His voice rose.

“I’m sorry-” You started. You looked up. “I just couldn’t stay - I had to leave.” 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me what was going on with you?” He said, voice strained. “Nobody would tell me anything, it feels like everyone’s hiding something from me.” You were quiet for a moment.

“I didn’t feel like I could talk to you. You were always gone- away at a conference or working, I didn’t want to interfere-” Your voice shook. “I tried to be everything you wanted from me. I thought being a good wife would make us happy… but it was never enough.” He was quiet for a moment.

“I’m not a bad husband,” He insisted. “I work so, so hard to build you a nice home, a nice life - the book was for us-”

“The book was for you, Chris," you said. “Everything was for you. I know you tried - I tried too, but it just wasn’t enough-” 

“You’re not telling me everything,” he said, anger rising in his voice. “Why are you still lying to me? Have I ever known you?” He was yelling now, and he took a step towards you. You shrank back. What? He-he can't know- Your silence seemed to make him more upset. “What aren’t you telling me-” You winced as he hissed in your face, backing up.

The door opened behind you, and you turned to see Damien step through quickly, standing behind you. Relief flooded over you.

“Damien,” you whispered as you gripped the cuff of his coat, clinging to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You nodded, letting him go as you looked back to Chris, who stood motionless, eyes dark with realization.

“Was it because of him?” he demanded, eyes darting. His voice shook with rage. “You left me for a priest?” 

“No.” You tried to explain. “Chris, it wasn’t-” 

“No, I see now. You’re here for him - after everything we’ve been through, after everything I did for you, our life- you’re here fucking a Priest?” He smiled as he spoke, incredulous. You wished he would stop. You tried to say something - tried to defend yourself - 

“Stop.”

“How long have you been seeing him? Is he-” he laughed now, looking away before smiling up at Damien. “You know she’s pregnant, right?” All the air left your body, your stomach sinking.

“-no.” you could barely get the word out, recoiling away. 

“I kept waiting for you to tell me after I found the tests- I was so excited for us, y/n.” His voice broke. “And now I know why you never said anything-” His words were drowning in static, the floor pitching beneath you. Damien was yelling now too- it’s too much-

“I had a miscarriage.” You blurted out, forcing yourself to look up at Chris. The courtyard was silent, the static roared. Tears fell from your eyes, but you didn’t feel them. You felt a firm hand on your shoulder as Damien braced you. You took a shaky breath. The static quieted.

“I had a miscarriage,” You said it again. “And I-I couldn't tell you, because I didn’t - I couldn’t imagine raising a child with you.” You paused between sentences, taking a deep breath. Chris’ face fell, his eyes empty as he listened.

“And I should’ve said something. Years ago. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, because I knew it would break your heart like it was breaking mine-” Your voice cracked. You continued. “So I came home.” 

His face was set in stone, a tear falling from his face. “You’re not leaving me.” He seemed to be losing his grip on anger, and it fell away in pieces as it was replaced by despair.

“No, you’re right,” you ventured, concentrating on keeping your voice steady as you met his eyes. “You’re leaving me.” He looked at you, incredulous.

“I won’t-” he started, quiet now. “I’ve been a terrible husband-” 

“I’ve been a terrible wife.” you held his gaze. Make your speech.

“Despite it all - despite everything I think what you hate is that you do love me,” he said, his voice wavering, but with a weak note of hope. “I think you stayed all this time because you love me, and it was real. I think this - this was meant to happen. We’re supposed to be broken and terrible together, and despite it all, I love you, and I’m not leaving you until you get down on your knees and beg me.” He looked into your eyes then, seething. 

You looked at him, and kneeled - cold pavement stinging your knuckles as you steadied yourself. 

“Please leave me.” You said, as clearly as you could. He looked truly lost now, mouth slightly open in surprise.

“I didn’t think you’d do that,” he said plainly. He waited for a moment more, as if waiting for you to take it back. You didn’t. “Fuck,” he said with an empty laugh. Then he inhaled deeply and with a sigh, turned and left. Descending the stairs, walking down the sidewalk beside the building, and turning at the front of the building, he disappeared.

When you were sure he was gone, you fell back onto your legs and breathed a shaky laugh that descended into a broken sob. The tears wouldn’t stop - you couldn't see or get a breath in - but crying was all you could do.

Something heavy and warm fell over you like a blanket as Damien’s coat wrapped around your shoulders. You couldn't see him, but you felt his strong arms encircle your waist and hold your head gentle against him as you collapsed into his shoulder, surrendering to the shaking sobs.

He held you and rocked you gently as you wept, whispering quiet ‘I’m sorry's' and ‘I’ve got you’s’ into your hair. You stayed like that for a long time. 

[all54321]

A “Chance” Encounter Part 3

This is a lot shorter then I initially intended it to be, so there might be a part 4 at a later date! Just for some timeline info, part 1 takes place at the end of the day, as Grian is heading home. Part 2 takes place after he wakes up, during the night after, just a few hours later. Part 3 takes place a little later during that night/morning after before skipping to the complete next day, over 24 hours later. Might write something during those 24 hours, which would just be complete Scarian fluff.

Also, this is really early on, so the HEP is just at its infant stage, it’s not as big as it is later on.

—————

Grian stares at his sweater, an idea slowly forming in his head. He pulls it on again, adjusting it as it presses uncomfortably on the mushrooms on his neck. He runs a finger along the top of the turtleneck, finding nothing. Grian dips them down past the collar, finding the mushrooms a bit farther down. They’re completely and easily covered by his sweater.

“What are you doing?” Scar asks, watching him, confusion in his eyes.

“I had an idea,” he murmurs, pulling his hand back.

“Which is?” The other prompts.

“I can hide the mushrooms, even if it’s uncomfortable, which means no one will realize immediately.” He pauses, “they trust me completely. I can return to them and they wouldn’t bay an eye.” Scar frowns so he quickly continues, “I can act as a spy. I’ll be able to learn every step the HEP takes, each plan they have. And, it’ll be easier to get them to join us. I can slowly persuade them that Connecting is the better choice.”

Scar is still frowning, but he slowly nods, “that… does make sense, but I don’t want to lose you again, not so soon.”

Grian closes the distance between them, grabbing Scar’s hands, “I’m not leaving completely. I’ll just play my part and return here when it’s safe to.” That gets Scar to let out a small smile. Grian squeezes his hands, “besides, we can’t truly be apart now, can we?”

“Yeah,” Scar murmurs. “Can you at least stay the day?” he asks, a little louder. “I just want to spend time with you without worrying.”

Grian only hesitates a moment before nodding, he can always come up with an excuse to the others. He’s rather convincing, after all. “Alright, I’ll stay for the day.”

“Great!” Scar leans down and kisses him. “We should get you more comfortable clothes to wear while you’re here. And maybe some gloves as well, for when you go back, so you don’t ruin your cover.”

Grian glances down at his hands, “ah, right.”

~

Grian turns around as he reaches the edge of the forest, the sun is just beginning to rise. He gentle cradles Scar’s face in both his hands, “I’ll be back before you know it, darling.” He pulls Scar down into a kiss. It’s slow and sweet, and Grian savors it.

Eventually, Scar pulls back slightly, just a hair’s breadth away, murmuring against Grian’s lips, “I’ll be watching, songbird. Ask for help and I’ll come immediately.”

The avian nods, reluctantly stepping back, “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Soon?”

Grian nods again, “soon.” With one final loving look, he turns around, leaving the forest. He pulls on his gloves, securing them as he covers the last part of himself that he can cover without being impractical or draw attention. He spreads his wings out, before jumping and taking flight. Grian flies towards the center of the city, towards city hall. He’ll make it there on time, but he’s still missed an entire day. At least he already has an excuse planned, which is just a stretched version of the truth, in a way.

Grian lands just outside the door, hurrying through them and to Mumbo’s office. He doesn’t knock and just enters his friend’s office. Mumbo looks up in shock before sagging in relief, “Grian! You’re okay! I was so worried.”

Grian gives him a small smile, he’s better then okay, “I’m sorry for my absence. A family matter suddenly came up and I couldn’t contact anyone about it.” He pretends to try to hide his worry, in an attempt to be more convincing. It probably helps since he is genuinely nervous.

Mumbo waves a hand dismissively, “don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Of course I am,” Grian says, confidence growing as his nerves fade. He walks over and takes a seat across from Mumbo.

The other slowly shakes his head, “there’s a lot going on right now, Grian, being worried over your safety at a sudden disappearance is justified.”

“I guess,” he mutters. “How much paperwork do we have? We probably stacked up on more from my absence.”

Mumbo nods, sagging in exhaustion this time, “we have a lot, unfortunately.”

Grian nods, “I’ll stay late to help you get through it, to make it up to you.”

“I appreciate it,” Mumbo replies with a small smile.

Grian takes a stack of the paper, turning it around so he can read it. He can feel Scar’s growing interest as he grabs a pen. What kind of paperwork is this?

Mostly mayoral stuff, Grian replies as he begins working, not anything too useful for us. Occasionally there’s HEP stuff, but it’s uncommon.

Scar hums, there’s still a chance it can be useful.

Grian hums back, he supposes it’s possible, but, from experience, it’s rather unlikely for anything non-HEP related to be important with what’s happening. He lets out a breath as he goes through the papers, it’s going to be a long day today. At least he has Scar for company now.

[theluckyr]

New Routine

What day to day looks like now that there's (y/n) in HQ

Jett

Will take you to Chinatown. It's a must, no question asked and it's her treat.

Whether it’s for just a casual walk or eating out at one of k-bbq places, she wouldn't mind at all.

After she done training, immediately she ran to you.

"Did you see what I did there?"

"Yep, that was amazing

Always makes sure to put her knives and firearms away when talking to you. Because she's really afraid that you might get hurt.

Surprise her with a pillow fort and movies after a long day of work, her fatigue would go away.

Viper

You're now her assistant. Whenever she needs a pair of hands or second opinion, she always ask you.

She enjoys your presence, because every day she deals with just chaos on top of chaos from sage trying to keep up with Jett who has low Hp, Skye accidentally blind her sight, to Kay/o just being his own self. So whenever you're around she feels calm.

Really likes listening to your ramblings about anything while drinking her cup of coffee.

You can talk for hours about bugs or dinosaurs in her lab and she would reply "Oh, I never knew they would do that. Care to elaborate?"

Because of this, she will give you a replica of your favorite moth or dinosaur's fossil as a present.

Chamber

Well, this man is quite the character.

Seeing you idling around the HQ, really made him more motivated with his work and not having artblock very often.

To him, your voice was like a sweet melody and he could never get enough of it. So it’s not a surprise for you two to have some late night talks with a glass of wine or sparkling cider (he’ll cater to your preferences, no worries).

Occasionally, he would listen to your conversation so he’ll know what to get for you.

(Y/n) : *sigh heavily* I failed….

Raze : What’s wrong?

Neon : There’s a bakery around the HQ and they’re famous for their fresh pastries. Whenever (Y/n) pays a visit, it already sold out

(Y/n) : Freshly baked croissants dipped in hot coffee would be perfect for this evening. Alright then I’ll set my alarm early tonight. Hope i’ll be there before the store open

KJ : That’s the spirit! I’ll convince brim if we can borrow his jeep tomorrow.

But alas, you woke up late and just right when you’re about to get your jacket, you saw a pink box from the same bakery wrapped in gold ribbon with a note that says “Enjoy.”

If you have something that are bothering you, please just ask for his help. Please 🥺 financially? Emotionally? Get rid of a body? He'll do anything. Just ask, Mon Cheri.

Every bit of physical gesture you made to him, he will savor it every moment. Even as simple as dusting off the sands on his shoulders after his work in Bind or accidentally holding his hand when you handed him something.

Sova

I'm obsessed with him, ik it's a problem

This man is the definition of dreamy when you see him in person.

Because of this, you apologized to him for not mastering his lineups very well.

No worries, he understands your struggles. It’s okay <3

Instead of worrying about your past actions, why don't you enjoy the time with him, please?

(Y/n) : hey Sova

Sova : Hm?

(Y/n) : Knock knock

Sova : Who’s there?

(Y/n) : Mike Weaver

Sova : Mike Weaver who?

(Y/n) : Mike Weaver is never full

That cheesy joke really made him burst out laughing. Even everyone in the HQ never heard him laugh so happily like that.

Because of this, he really treasure that moment and if cypher try to recreate it, rest assured he would savor sova’s knuckle sandwich as his tea time snack.

Yoru

Definitely not a Tsundere, what are you talking about? (¬/////¬)

He always wants to talk with you the same way you talk with others, but his pride wouldn’t let him.

One thing that he loves hates is how you could be very nonchalant towards his actions.

One time, he did the infamous kabedon on you instead of being mesmerized, you pull him for a tight hug.

“You know, you can always ask for a hug. I wouldn’t mind at all :) “ then they walked away

The man dropped on his knees, too stunned to speak and stayed in his room for days to recover from the interactions.

But that doesn’t mean he’s giving his rivals a chance, no way.

Now whenever (y/n) taking a photo, there would be a familiar blue figure with a scowl on his face in the background.

Wouldn't admit that the hug felt really warm and (y/n) smelled really sweet yet very…. addicting.

One of the culprits of taking some of (y/n)'s perfume/cologne into a spray bottle. So whenever he is in a grumpy mood, he'll spray some on his pillow and hug it really tight, pretending that it's you.

[moraygrotto]

commission! :3

For a lovely patron who wished to remain anonymous, here is a Mаdagascar 2 fic, in which Glоria and Mоto Mоto live together. Contains weight gain, body worship, and a bit of vore and stuffing :)

~🦛~

0 Years, 0 Months, 0 Days / Gloria: 2,532lbs / Moto Moto: 3,972lbs

As much as Gloria had yearned for the opposite, her date with Moto Moto was not going well. After hearing the large hippopotamus speak at length about himself, she was not sure how many more compliments about her curvaceous body she could handle. Sure, his words were sweet, and it was nice to be admired, but she wasn’t sure Moto Moto had considered yet that it was an entire woman he was dancing with, not just a beautiful body.

So, she interrupted him. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but if you really want a piece of this, uh, chunky, plumpy hugeness, you’re gonna have to try a little harder than this.”

To her surprise, Moto Moto stopped. Cocking an eyebrow, he leaned toward her, lips puckered as if going in for a silent kiss, then shook his head, and backed away. 

Apprehensively, Gloria slowed her movements, but continued to dance. She wanted to give him a second chance– after all, he was attractive, and had been able to speak of his own ‘zestiness’, in addition to his heftiness.

A moment later, Moto Moto looked back at her. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll admit, I don’t know a lot about you.”

“M-hm,” Gloria said wryly.

“But I’m liking what I’m seeing,” he pressed, and began to shake his hips again. “You move like a goddess. You’ve got a gorgeous voice, and your attitude–” He shook his shoulders, and gave a little ‘Mm!’, as if savoring the moment. “You’re striking me as sweet, but confident. Even though you’re new here, you know what you’re doing.” He took both of Gloria’s hands, and fixed her with a seductive smile. “You’re seeming to me,” he said, “like the type of girl I’ve been looking for my whole life.”

Gloria looked up at him, and, hands falling from his, kept dancing in the water. Splash by splash through the shallow pool, she felt her annoyance toward Moto Moto dissipate. “You’re sweet,” she said softly.

“Not to mention,” he said, “how outwardly, you are just my plumpy-chunky-wonderful type.” He smirked. “You’ll forgive a guy for looking at you and taking notice of those curves first and foremost, won’t you, now?”

Gloria smiled. “Can’t fault you for it, I guess. You do know I’m more than just my body, though.”

“Baby girl,” Moto Moto said, “I can tell there is much, much more to you–” He spun her around, a cool spray whirling out beneath her feet. Then, he pulled her in close, dipped her low, and spoke deeply into her ear. “–And I’ve got a craving to find out every last juicy bit.”

Giggling, Gloria swooped back up, and continued to move her feet. “Alright,” she said, “you know how to flirt. Why don’t you tell me a little bit more about you? What’s life like here for you; what do you do every day?”

“Heh.” Moto Moto eyed himself up and down. “I guess you could say,” he said, “I’m pretty popular ‘round these parts. Not sure what it’s like where you’re from, but we savanna hippos…” He looked around to the other hippos, who were quietly swimming and lounging around the pool. “We like to have a good time. And I, Moto Moto, make it my life’s mission to have the best time of all.” He wiggled his hips, jiggling his hefty butt. Gradually, the dance slowed, and as he came to a stop, he winked.

“Gloria,” he said, “if you stick with me, I’ll make sure you have the sweetest time there is to be had.”

Blushing, Gloria looked down, then looked shyly back up at him. “Sounds like quite an offer,” she said.

“What do you say?”

Gloria looked all around her, to the hippos enjoying themselves, many of them surreptitiously watching Moto Moto. Moto Moto, however, only seemed to have eyes for her.

“Alright,” she replied, and took one of his hands in her own. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind sticking with you for a bit.” She gently swung her hand, and shot him a teasing look. “You need to treat me well, though,” she said. “If you know how to love me, all of me, then, well–” She blinked her eyelashes. “I’ll stick with you for as long as you like.”

Moto Moto squeezed her hand. “If you really are as sweet as you are chunky, then–” He chuckled. “We might just be mates for the rest of our lives.”

~🦛~

0 Years, 3 Months, 18 Days / Gloria: 3,206lbs/ Moto Moto: 4,126lbs

As the days stretched on, Gloria’s old friends quickly grew anxious for their old life in New York. While Gloria missed her home as well, she could hardly fathom going back, as she established a life for herself in Africa, and got to know her new boyfriend better and better. So, when her friends suggested they attempt to fly home, Gloria bade them a bittersweet goodbye, along with wishes that they might have a smooth journey back.

For Gloria’s own part, however, she knew she had made the right choice. In the coming few months, she discovered a sort of bounty in her new home that she never would have expected of the unforgiving wild– She could eat to her heart’s content, all delicious fruits, crisp vegetables, and clear, drinkable water. Each day brought a new serving of paradise, and as she spent more time lounging in repose by Moto Moto’s side, she in turn found her body growing steadily bigger, and heavier.

The growing weight of soft flesh atop her bones felt natural, a product of the blissful way she spent her days, but she could not deny a certain few... other causes.

On nights she and Moto Moto did not spend sequestered away by themselves, the pair was practically assaulted by worship from all sides.

“Oh, Moto Moto,” came a young hippopotamus, approaching the soft, straw-laden clearing where they sat, her arms laden with bananas. “I gathered these just for you and your mate. I hope you’ll find them scrumptious~”

“Thank you,” Gloria said on Moto Moto’s account. “Would you leave ‘em right there? We appreciate it, really.”

“Of course, dear! You two promise not to get hungry, now!” Fluttering her eyelashes, she set the bananas down atop a growing pile of food from similar admirers, and tiptoed shyly away.

“All these hippos are awfully nice,” Gloria remarked, picking up a banana and offering it to Moto Moto.

He took it, and in turn offered her a shiny, full-bodied mango from his end of the pile. “That’s just what happens when you’ve got a bod chunky enough to cause a sensation,” he said, then chuckled. “I’m surprised you haven’t gotten used to it yet, yourself.”

Mouth full of the most fantastic mango she had ever tasted, Gloria could barely reply. “–’M gettin’ chunkier, tha’s for –glp– sure,” she said, and dabbed her mouth on a dried leaf.

Moto Moto, for his part, wiped the banana residue off his mouth with the back of his hand, and shot her a salacious grin. “And I love it,” he said, reaching out to squeeze a roll of her voluptuous hips. “You better keep getting plumper and plumper, like the queen you are.”

Gloria smiled, reveling for a moment in the absolutely adoring gaze her even bigger mate was fixing on her. Moonlight streamed through their thin nest of trees, onto the dried grass of the ground below, onto the two of them and their feast. Somewhere in the distance, a wild dog yapped and howled at the moon.

“Say,” Moto Moto said, “if you could put any food at all into that pretty body of yours right now, what would it be?”

Munching on a banana, Gloria looked up at the night sky. New York, it was true, had a higher variety of foods, including her favorite human-made specialties. She was not quite sure how to answer his question whilst assuring him she was happy here, with all the exciting things he and Africa had to offer.

“Something rich, I guess,” she replied, looking back down at her boyfriend. “I’ve always loved fatty foods, y’know, the stuff people like to call guilty pleasures.” She chuckled softly, and placed her banana peel by her side, atop a small pile of mango pits, melon rinds, and the like.

“Hmm…” Moto Moto said, surveying the land outside of the circle of trees. “I could make it work. How would you feel about a nice, fatty, fattening meal, my lady love?”

“Huh?” She looked upon the vast pile of fruit offerings. “We got so much food already, though!”

Moto Moto smirked, and stood, chucking his banana peel nonchalantly over his shoulder as he rose to his full, impressive height. “Consider this,” he said smoothly, “just an appetizer.”

As he trudged out of the little grove, the boom of his steps almost covered up a little squeak.

In the path of Moto Moto’s tread, Gloria realized, was a small rodent, fur ruffled and looking very flattened.

“Oh!” she said, standing up to approach the creature. “Dear, are you okay?”

The little beast looked up at Gloria’s towering mass, its black eyes fierce. “Absolutely not!” it squeaked. “That no good, lumbering jerk of a hippopotamus can’t watch his step, and now just look at my fur! I smell like hippo feet, and–”

“You know,” Gloria said, quiet voice interrupting its shrill one. “Moto Moto could eat you.”

It trembled for a moment, indignance in its face meeting her calm scowl, before scampering off.

With a sigh, Gloria resumed her spot by the fruit, nibbling idly as she waited for her boyfriend to return. All the while, a dog barked in the distance.

Another doe-eyed young hippo approached her with a present of fruit, which she graciously accepted. While she was far from hungry after grazing the offerings for so long, she was still very excited to see what Moto Moto had to offer. She would not waste time missing the foods of her old life now– The lap of luxury was hers to delight in.

She was almost too distracted by the barking of the wild dog to notice the weighty silhouette returning across the grass.

“Hey, darling!” she called out.

“My lady love,” Moto Moto’s voice rang out in her direction. Several shapes of animals scampered away from the sound, but the dog, which Gloria could just now make out atop a distant rock, only yelped louder.

“I return with a feast!” Moto Moto cheered. As he approached the grove, he came into the moonlight, the shape in his arms growing clear.

Several mangoes lay cut cleanly open atop a platter of wood, along with a towering mass of round nuts and glittering honeycomb. Atop it all shimmered a hefty drizzle of creamy milk.

Gloria gulped, realizing her mouth had begun to water. “Moto Moto!” she blurted out, “where did you get all that?”

He smiled. “I’ll admit,” he said, “I had a little help. Plenty of people simply adore me, and would swiftly fall all over themselves to help me feed my queen. And those who were not my fans already…” He balanced the platter on one hand, and flexed the other arm, bicep popping. “I just gave ‘em one of these, and got ‘em bewitched in no time. Now, here–” He rejoined Gloria atop the grass, setting the food gently down as he lounged beside her and caressed her face. “All yours.”

“This looks… more than amazing,” Gloria said, looking down at the meal, then up at Moto Moto, then down again.

“Go on, now,” he said. “Dig in.”

She gave him a grin that she hoped looked thankful, but probably just looked dazed. “Don’t mind if I do,” she said, and picked up one of the juicy mangoes.

Merely moments after biting in, juice dribbled down her skin, and she felt as if her whole body was sticky. She could not bring herself to care; the creamy drizzle and the fruit’s sweet flesh were mind-numbingly delicious.

“Mmm!” she said, as, mouth full, she picked up a handful of the nuts and honeycomb.

“Heh,” Moto Moto said, himself cracking open a melon on a nearby rock. “In heaven?”

“Mm-hm!” This was better than anything Gloria could have asked for.

“Good.”

Under the moonlight, Gloria gobbled up the rich, sweet food without any reservation, knowing her hips might feel heavier in the morning, knowing Moto Moto would love that, knowing she had no reason to hold back, because this was how her life would always be from now on.

Casting her manners aside, after the last nibble of food had dropped into her tummy, she licked the platter clean, savoring every taste.

“That’s my girl,” Moto Moto said, giving her belly a pat. “You know I love to watch you eat.”

Setting the platter down, Gloria sighed, relishing the way her belly shifted and churned under Moto Moto’s touch. “Thank you sooo –hic– much,” she said, and flopped onto her side facing him. “You really know how to treat a girl right, huh?”

Moto Moto grabbed her hip with a seductive smile, massaging the side of her backside. “Anything for a body like yours,” he said, before giving her a pat, and watching the fat jiggle. “Just joking, of course. Anything for a body like yours, and even more for the lady inside it.” His eyes, then, lifted from her, up to the distance. “That dog,” he said, “will not shut up. How’s a man supposed to have a moment with his mate like this?”

Weighed down by the delicious meal inside her, part of Gloria did not want to stand up. The greater part, however, knew exactly what to do.

She rose, and stretched, a little burp rumbling up her throat as her stomach expanded. “You wait right here,” she said. “I’ve got it.”

“Aw, now, I’d hate to see–”

“It’s fine,” she chided, “You know how you said the fruit could be my appetizer?” She smiled. “Well, I’ve got an idea about dessert.”

Gloria marched across the grass to where the wild dog stood, gazing intently up at the moon. It did not stop barking loudly, even as she approached.

“Hey,” she snapped, “would you mind piping down?”

The dog looked at her, but did not reply, only looked back at the sky, and continued to yip and howl.

“Excuse me,” she said, “we want quiet.”

Again, it gave no response.

“Fine,” she said, and grabbed the dog around its middle.

“Hey!” it barked at last. “Let me go!”

“I tried,” she said, trudging back to the trees, “to ask politely!”

“I’ll stop; please, I promise–”

“No,” she said firmly. “You had your chance.”

When she returned to Moto Moto, she shut the dog’s snout, allowing it only to growl and grunt, and she smiled at him.

“You said,” she cooed, “that you like watching me eat?”

From his lounging position upon the straw, Moto Moto looked up at her in avid interest.

“Time for dessert,” she said sweetly, and lifted the dog up by its hind legs.

Opening her jaw, she lowered it carefully in, as deep as it could go with her arm still holding its mouth shut. Her jaws were as huge as any hippo’s; she was built to bite and swallow masses of food. She had never swallowed a creature whole before, but trusted herself to be able. Removing her arm, she took one leg in each hand, and gulped hard.

The furry frame of the dog was nowhere near as smooth a swallow as the succulent meal Moto Moto had given her. However, having increased her intake so much in the last few months, it proved no challenge for her to swallow it down.

The bulky beast inched steadily down her throat; no matter how much it kicked and squirmed, it was no match for her hungry jaws. Her throat squeezed around it, as she patiently swallowed, and swallowed, thinking only of how good her tummy would feel once she was full.

Finally came the satisfying feeling of the creature sinking fully into her stomach. It bulged outward, and she could feel the added mass weighing her down. “There,” she said, pressing a burp into one hand. “A lot more quiet now, huh?”

Moto Moto clapped as she approached, and as she lay down once more by his side, belly up this time. Her insides squirmed painfully, but just as quickly triumphed over the dog’s struggling.

“Well done,” he said. “I am one lucky guy.”

“You’re… sweet,” Gloria said, swooning from the rich meal now filling her stomach to the brim. “But… –urp– I think… I’m full now.”

~🦛~

2 Years, 7 Months, 20 Days / Gloria: 4,583lbs / Moto Moto: 5,549lbs

Reeds swayed in a cool wind by the riverside, and from all around came the sound of music. The river’s ripples glittered alluringly in the evening sun, down a bend to a low, marshy bluff where a throng of animals had gathered. At their center lay a raised platform made of driftwood logs, decorated everywhere with bright flowers. From a nearby tree hung streamers of woven reed leaves and flower petals, drifting dreamily in the gentle wind.

Atop the platform sat Moto Moto, and a pair of hippopotami on his either side, who fanned him slowly with large leaves.

Gloria had trouble making her way through the throng of the party, but reached the lip of her mate’s vast throne eventually. Around her neck hung a lei of flowers she had gathered, and all over her lower half glistened river water she had waded through while gathering them.

“Honey!” she called.

Lounging on the platform, munching on some chopped fruit out of a coconut shell, Moto Moto perked up, and caught her eye. He raised the shell up high, and thundered, “Moto Moto’s mate has arrived!”

All eyes turned to Gloria, who blushed, and scratched her ear. “Um,” she began, “happy birthday, honey.”

“Thank you, my love,” Moto Moto replied. “You look outstanding.” He snorted. “It’s almost as if you put on a pound or two just for my birthday.”

“Aw, stop,” Gloria said, fidgeting bashfully under everyone’s gaze. “I, uh, have a bit of a present for you. Because–” She straightened up as best she could, and blew him a kiss. “–you are worth it.”

Moto Moto only smiled. “Alright,” he said, “lay it on me.”

Gloria cleared her throat, and turned to a scrappy little meerkat playing the drums. “Would you fellas mind striking up something quicker? With a steady rhythm, too.”

The meerkat nodded, and began an upbeat drumbeat, which its fellows quickly joined in.

“A little space, please,” said Gloria, gesturing to the animals around her, who all scurried away. Then, she turned away from Moto Moto, and began to rhythmically shake her hips.

At first, water drops slid down her hefty thighs, before she deepened the movements, leaning into the rhythm, and the remaining drops began to flick off her sides and into the evening air.

As she raised her arms above her head, her ass began to tangibly jiggle, followed by her thighs, tummy, arms, and the folds of her back. While Gloria could not dance as acrobatically as she once could, due to all the weight her body had acquired, she thought it was worth it for effects such as this– and believed Moto Moto would agree.

The music quickened, and she ran her hands down her sides, hips, backside, teasing him by grabbing herself in front of everyone– everyone who knew she was his woman.

Finally, she nodded to one of the drummers, who in turn gestured to his ensemble. The beat came to a dramatic finish, and she struck a pose. After she was still, ripples of motion yet jiggled through her body, displaying to him just how big she had become in her life by his side.

A moment later, the crowd burst out in applause. Gloria turned around to see Moto Moto clapping slowly, a hungry smile on his face. When he caught her eye, he beckoned.

Breaths heavy from the slight workout, Gloria lumbered through the crowd, back up to the platform. From beneath her feet, she heard a small squeak, and looked down to see a small squirrel, eyes bulging as it lay squished beneath her foot in the damp grass.

“Oh! So sorry,” she said, and, lifting her foot, reached down to help it to its feet.

“I’ll forgive you,” it said, “because that was an amazing dance.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “Now, I’m off to see the birthday boy~”

She stepped carefully, then, onto Moto Moto’s wide throne, and pantomimed a cute little curtsey. “Happy birthday again, sweetie.”

He reached out one arm, beckoning closer, and when she took it, pulled her down into an embrace.

She giggled. “Hey~”

“That,” Moto Moto said, “was exquisite.” He was touching all over Gloria, not in a way that didn’t tickle, making her laugh and snort.

“I am,” he continued, “without a doubt, the luckiest guy on this savanna.”

“You deserve it,” Gloria countered, holding his meaty sides, and pressing a kiss to his nose.

“Now,” he said, “I think I might just have some birthday wishes in mind.”

“Birthday wishes?” said Gloria. “I don’t remember any of those from last year.”

“Well,” he said, whispering in her ear, “how about you and I start a tradition now?”

“Okay,” she said, one hand on his large backside. “Let me hear ‘em.”

Moto Moto gave a hum of satisfaction. “First,” he said, “once we get outta here and find somewhere a little more private–” He laid one hand atop hers on his rump. “–Keep doing what you’re doing back here. It feels so good, and I wanna loosen out a little more.” He smirked. “Which brings me to the next birthday wish. Let me get a feel of those glorious assets you just showed off.”

Gloria chuckled. “You don’t have to ask that!” She glanced around her, saw the two hippos still fanning them both, and moved his hand to a chaste spot on her hip. “Especially,” she said, “not tonight.” She nuzzled against him, relishing his touch at her side. “My special birthday boy~”

Moto Moto squeezed her side, and gave her forehead a kiss. “How ‘bout getting out of here with this big boy, then, huh?”

“Sounds good,” she said, and slowly rose up.

As the pair walked away from the party, they were followed by goodbye cheers from countless voices, many of them young and female. Even after these years, hippos were still infatuated with Moto Moto, and often, by extension, with Gloria. Although she still missed her old friends, there was something uniquely fun about being here, paired with the most revered hunk on the savanna.

Soon, they arrived at a small waterfall, where grass and rocks surrounded a burbling swimming hole. In the cooler, shaded air beside the rushing water, they lay down side by side.

“Now,” said Gloria, “I believe you, sir, had wished for a massage?”

“Yes, please,” said Moto Moto, wiggling up to her and turning over.

With all the thick curves of his back on display to her, Gloria really did feel like the happiest hippo in the world. She pressed one palm into the upper part of his hefty buttcheek, and pushed in deep. The meat was harder than she expected.

“You’re a little bit tense, darling!” she said, and began to knead. “Gee, I was looking at how big your butt was getting, thinking it was all fat! Lemme rub some of that stiffness away, okay?”

Moto Moto flexed the muscles in his butt, then tried to loosen them. He shimmied a little into Gloria’s tough. “Mmm… You’re right. I’d like that a lot.”

Gloria smiled. “Just relax for me, now.”

As she worked her way over and over the expanse of Moto Moto’s massive ass, the muscle slowly began to soften. Moto Moto himself looked blissed out, head lying atop his folded arms.

Eventually, after much exertion on Gloria’s part, his glutes grew almost as soft as the squishy, jiggling fat all around them. “How’s that feel?” Gloria said, giving his cheek a tender pat.

“Absolutely divine,” Moto Moto hummed, and cracked one eye open to look at her. “You might as well be an angel right now.” Giving his own butt a rub, he propped himself up on one arm. “So much so,” he said, “that I’m beginning to have a real clear picture of my next birthday wish.”

“Ready for it so soon?”

“Turn over for me, just for a second.”

Obeying, Gloria lay down on her stomach, butt sticking prominently up in the air. At once, Moto Moto was upon her, caressing and squeezing every inch of her ass.

“Eek!” Gloria said, kicking her legs as she tried not to feel ticklish beneath his playful touch.

There was something hungry, almost predatory, in the way he touched her, as if she were a sweet morsel belonging only to him. Gloria let herself soak in the bold admiration, content to be an offering upon Moto Moto’s proverbial platter. After all, he loved being hers, too. Come her birthday, she would have a handful of requests loaded and ready upon her own tongue, which she already was sure Moto Moto would be eager to oblige.

Besides, it felt good. Gloria was no stranger to massages; her hippopotamus friends exchanged them on cool nights all the time. Being loved this way by her very own mate, however, was special.

“You are so sexy, y’know?” Moto Moto said, giving her butt a light spank and letting it jiggle. “Getting sexier every day, too. I am beyond impressed by how chunky you’ve become.” He squished his hands into the soft flesh. “You’re almost twice as big as when I first met you. If I’d known last year that I‘d be able to spend a birthday with a you who looks like this…” He gave a whistle, and slapped her butt again.

Gloria laughed, and turned her head to look up at him. “I’m just glad I could help make this a happy birthday for you, sweetie.”

“Believe me,” he said, “this is one happy birthday indeed.”

~🦛~

9 Years, 2 Months, 30 Days / Gloria: 4,993lbs / Moto Moto: 8,038lbs

As the time passed, Gloria grew into a hippopotamus who would be unrecognizable to her past self. Years upon years of sweet, relaxing life under the warm sun, beside a boyfriend who loved her, had brought a heavy weight to her every curve, and a pleasant indolence to her every motion.

Moto Moto, too, had become much bigger than he was the day she had met him. Under Gloria’s constant love and encouragement, he spent his days eating and relaxing with her, not to mention relishing his status as the most handsome hippo in all the land. With all the weight on their bones, he and Gloria were now practically the god and goddess of the savanna.

One bright summer day, the pair were relaxing in the dappled shade of a tall, branching tree, nearly the pale color of beached driftwood for how gnarled and dry it was to its last twig.

Moto Moto, in all his massiveness, had wrapped Gloria in his arms, and was brazenly showing his appreciation for what was undoubtedly his favorite of Gloria’s many positive traits.

“All this lazing around,” he said, “is doing you so good.” He squeezed her bulky arms as he kissed down her stomach, lips pressing into the soft fat. “I could spend all day with my face buried in this chunk.”

“Heheh, coming from you,” Gloria said. “Heck, I didn’t even know hippos could get as big as you’ve become.” She tried to squeeze his side, but was caught off guard by a kiss to her belly. “It’s sexy,” she said. “You’re sexy.”

Moto Moto evidently liked the praise, because he nuzzled hard into her tummy, and gave it a loving squish.

“Oh!” Gloria said as the bulk of food she had eaten earlier that day shifted around inside her. “...That feels so good.” Over the years, she had learned that he liked to know when he was doing something right, so she gave hums of satisfaction as he squeezed and kissed her, and blindly caressed the back of his head.

“You like that,” he said into the fat of her belly.

“I do~”

“Then how about this?” he said, and scooped her entirely up into his arms, lifting her whole body with ease; two soft, fat masses squishing into each other; and rolling her over.

“Whoah!” said Gloria, alighting gently down on her back thanks to the strength of Moto Moto’s embrace. “Jeez, you’re strong.”

“You knew that,” said Moto Moto, fixing her with a roguish smirk.

“I did, I did,” Gloria assured him. “I’m just easily impressed, as you know.” She poked playfully into one of his massive pectorals.

“Say,” he said, “care to be impressed a little more?”

He sat up, flexed his biceps, looking with the feigned fire of determination out into the distance.

“You look like a statue!” Gloria said. “Uh– That’s a thing they have in New York. It’s a big compliment, I promise.”

Grinning, Moto Moto stood, and continued to show off every chunk of his tremendous frame, muscles bulging and fat rippling. He really was the ideal hippo, thought Gloria, as she let out a dreamy sigh.

“You wanna touch ‘em?” Moto Moto asked, making his biceps pop.

“You bet!” Gloria said, and leapt up. As her feet landed steadily on the ground, a thud resounded through the earth below.

Moto Moto looked at her feet in adoration– He adored all signs of Gloria’s burgeoning weight, including the thundering of her footsteps.

She blushed, smiling sweetly, and took another step toward him. This one was much softer, and more graceful, and barely made any sound at all, but still agitated the ground beneath her feet.

So subtle she barely noticed, there came a creak.

The next few moments flashed in one great rush; she hardly knew what was happening. Moto Moto’s eyes had gone wide, and the shadows on the ground were shifting inexplicably, and the creaking rapidly amplified, until Moto Moto rushed to her side, and all was still.

Gloria whipped her head around to look at him, and was met with a fierce expression on his face. Both arms were over his head, biceps bulging, as he supported the weight of the old tree, all of which leaned against him.

If he had not rushed to her side right then, she realized, the thick trunk would have landed right atop her skull.

“You saved me,” she blurted out, resisting the urge to rush forth and kiss him for his heroism. “Oh my gosh; I can’t believe I– Uh, lemme get out of your way.”

She sidestepped out of the path of the falling tree, and Moto Moto set the trunk down.

“Anything,” he said, “for my lady love.” He flicked a sheen of sweat off his forehead, cupped her face in his hands, and gave her a long kiss. “Glad you’re alright,” he said after breaking away.

Gloria was still dazed. “But,” she said, “I was the one who made it fall–”

Moto Moto shook his head. “You of all people should not have to suffer from being chunky,” he said, “much less get hit on the head for it.” He moved his hands down, and squeezed her shoulders. “You are the perfect mate for me, and don’t you forget it.”

Gloria took a few more moments to catch her breath and let her heartbeat settle, leading to a brief, awkward pause, before she said, “Aw, you know it’s an honor.”

“That honor goes both ways,” Moto Moto said, then smirked. “Though… you haven’t yet taken up my offer of touching my muscles. Still interested?”

“Oh, you better believe it,” Gloria said.

“Good,” Moto Moto replied. “Remember, you’re always safe so long as you’re with Moto Moto. Now… I’m all yours. I’ve got lots of muscles. Don’t forget about those glutes.”

“Never in a million years!” said Gloria, and she threw her arms around him.

Gloria relished any chance she could get to admire her mate, just as he admired her. As she ran teasing hands all over him in the sun, whispering flirtatious words into his ear, she was grateful for the moment, the time for her nerves to settle back down and her mind to come to terms with what happened, all while doing something that he loved.

Moto Moto, as he flexed, posed, and showed off for her, seemed to think very little of his heroic feat at all. She wondered if he would remember, and brag about it later, or if he would brush it aside as just another day in his life, preferring to live in the moment.

She sighed, and Moto Moto caught her: “What’s wrong, girl?”

Leaving off squeezing his back muscles, she gave his shoulder blades a soft caress. “I dunno,” she said softly. “It’s just, if I had stayed in New York, I’d probably never have had a tree almost fall on me, but I’d also never have gotten to see you save me. I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

Moto Moto took a few seconds to respond, instead wrapping an arm around her waist. “Nothing wrong with being sad,” he said slowly. “But you got me here. Plenty of other friends, too.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Might even have kids someday. As long as you don’t forget all that you got to be happy about, I’ll be here for you when you’re sad.”

Gloria smiled, and gave his back a pat. “You’re right,” she said, “and I promise. Now, how about making those muscles pop some more for me, huh?”

~🦛~

29 Years, 10 Months, 8 Days / Gloria: 5,729lbs / Moto Moto: 9,851lbs

Over the years, Moto Moto and Gloria grew older, softer, and slower, but always plumper. Their love for each other never diminished, but rather blossomed alongside their weight. Two children had sprung from their bountiful partnerhood, whom, being boys, Moto Moto had suggested be named after him. 

Tamu Moto, the elder of the two, was dark brown, with lovely pink cheeks and a cloyingly sweet smile. Chachu Moto, his younger brother, was smaller, lighter brown, and quicker, with a mischievous streak that kept the whole family on its toes. Both of them were loud and confident, and knew their places as the heritors of their parents’ popularity among the river hippos. 

As the calves grew up on the savanna, Gloria and Moto Moto took attentive care of them. They taught them how to play, how to dance, and most importantly, how to eat well and enjoy life.

It was during one of such natural lessons one day when Moto Moto and Gloria were batting compliments back and forth, a favorite sport between the two which they had lost no interest in after having children.

“Mom,” groaned Tamu Moto, “you already talked about how strong Dad is.”

“Nothing wrong with repeating something once or twice if it’s the truth,” Gloria countered, taking a melon slice from the pile the family was sharing. “Your daddy is strong, and all of us ought to know it.”

Chachu Moto, lying on his stomach, kicked his legs, idly nibbling on a chunk of melon. “Really,” he said between bites, “all you guys ever talk about is how great you think each other are.”

“Your mother,” interrupted Moto Moto, “has a way with words.” He then devoured a melon slice in one bite, and cleanly spat out the rind. He gulped. “Both of you boys should listen to her.”

Gloria swatted his shoulder lovingly. “Oh, you…”

“I want,” declared Chachu Moto, “to talk about something else.”

“Like what?” said Gloria.

Moto Moto smirked. “Ain’t nothing better to talk about than–”

“Like something interesting!” burst out Chachu Moto. “Like, I dunno, why don’t you tell us a story or something?”

Gloria licked some sweet, cool melon juice off her finger. “Like a fairy tale?”

Chachu Moto frowned. “Only if you have any new ones. You can’t just repeat old stories over and over, and expect us to be interested.”

Gloria sighed, and patted him on the shoulder. “That worked when you were little,” she said. “It’s fine if you don’t want the same old stories, but you’ve gotta be okay with us making conversation instead.”

Chachu Moto rolled his eyes. “Conversation, sure.”

Tamu Moto piped up. “It doesn’t have to be a fairy tale,” he said. “Like, what about something from your life? That could be interesting.”

“Our life,” interjected Chachu Moto, “is just lying around all the time.”

“Not true!” said Tamu Moto valiantly. “There’s lotsa stuff, like, uhh, how Mom grew up in New York, and, uh–”

“We’ve heard that,” grumbled Chachu Moto.

“Boys,” Gloria said warningly, “y’all better not start arguing about this.” She glanced down at the pile of uneaten food. “I’ve, uh, got plenty of stories. I can think of one.” Mind going blank, she looked up to Moto Moto, who only raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ooh, I know!” came Tamu Moto. “How about when you two first met? I don’t think I’ve heard about that before!” He glanced at Chachu Moto. “That sound good with you?”

Another eyeroll. “Sure.”

In theory, it would be easy and fun to tell such a tale. However, at the memory of Moto Moto sauntering up to her, passion in his eyes as he looked up and down Gloria’s impressive, on-display curves, the latter found herself unable to speak.

Desperately, she tried to formulate a way she could communicate the story to the children. Moto Moto had called Gloria ‘chunky’, ‘plump’, and words like ‘gorgeous’ in front of them before. However, there was no child-friendly way to describe the hunger in his eyes, the sureness in his stride, the salacious appreciation radiating from Moto Moto as he first walked up to Gloria. ‘He thought I was pretty’ wouldn’t make for a good story at all.

Moto Moto, too, had gone silent, contemplating the question with a subtle blush on his face that only Gloria could have noticed.

“C’mon,” said Tamu Moto, “don’t tell me you guys don’t remember.”

“No, I do,” said Gloria. “It’s just… a little complicated, that’s all.”

“A lot happened that night,” Moto Moto added.

Chachu Moto grimaced. “Eeeeww, like–”

“No, no,” Gloria said. “No. And watch your mouth, young man.”

“It’s just…” began Moto Moto.

“Your daddy and I…” said Gloria.

She looked at Moto Moto, and they locked eyes. Slowly, both of their faces broke into devious smiles.

“A-HEM!” Gloria cleared her throat. “The night your father and I met, I had just arrived here from New York.” 

I was sitting with some other hippos, new friends of mine, all of us just as sexy as could be, every inch of me on display– She couldn’t say that. She began to silently panic. What could she say?

“There was a rainstorm,” Moto Moto interjected smoothly.

“Exactly!” said Gloria. “I was struggling hard to find somewhere dry to wait out the rain, ‘cause, you know, I was a city girl, not really used to it like the other hippos were. And then, well, along came your daddy–” 

He sauntered up to me with love in his eyes, and everybody knew how badly he wanted a piece of me. 

“Uh…”

Moto Moto picked up the story once again. “I looked at your mommy, standing there shivering, and I said, ‘I’ll take you somewhere dry, little lady. You not from around here?’”

Gloria smiled in gratitude.

“I said,” said Moto Moto, “‘I’ll show you a spot.’ So I took her to this nice little rocky area, with a dry overhang juuust big enough for her wonderfully plump self to lie down in.”

“But you didn’t leave her there,” Tamu Moto said eagerly.

“He didn’t leave me there,” continued Gloria. “No, he was a gentleman, he sat next to me, halfway out in the rain, and we talked, and, y’know, introduced ourselves, and–” 

We danced, and he told me just how hot he thought I was. He sang my praises until I made him admit that he wanted to get to know me better.

“Then,” Moto Moto cut in, “it started thundering. You see, there was this little old tree on top of those rocks, and before long, BOOM!” He clapped his hands together, and both children jumped in their places.

“Lightning hit the tree!” said Gloria, in a much more convincing voice, now that the story was in full swing. “Those rocks I was under, they crumbled, and rolled, and eventually started falling down all around me! And your daddy, well, he–”

“I pulled her out,” Moto Moto said smugly.

“Wowww!” both boys said in unison.

“And I was in love,” said Gloria, a fact which was true in both the real and invented versions of the story. “So we started dating! And here we are.”

“Mom, that’s amazing!” said Chachu Moto. “I can’t believe your story has, like, life and death–”

Gloria shrugged at Moto Moto. That much was true, too.

Tamu Moto sighed. “That’s so cool,” he said. “To be honest, I had always assumed it was something boring.”

“Yeah,” snorted Chachu Moto. “Like Dad saw Mom and liked her big butt.”

Gloria’s eyes snapped open wide.

“That’s enough!” said Moto Moto. “We just told you the story. You gonna respect your parents, or not?”

“Yes, Dad,” groaned both boys in unison.

“Good,” purred Moto Moto. Slowly, the calves began to giggle. Instead of stopping them, Moto Moto allowed himself a low chuckle, which eased the tension among the whole family.

Eventually, even Gloria could not help but laugh, her shock dissipating.

She looked up at Moto Moto, and slowly took another slice of melon to gratefully nibble on. As she ate, she realized that it did not matter to her whether they had met in a thunder-shaken mythscape, or in the selfsame twilit savanna where they now sat, with Moto Moto’s eyes drinking in Gloria’s burgeoning assets just as they still so often did. 

No matter what the story truly was, Moto Moto would always be her hero. And her memories of the night, the ones she would never share, were more precious to her than anything else in the world.