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pikablu410 · 4 years

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Mix Tapes

Monday

“Yo! Robert, wassup my guy!” A boy shouted as he walked up to the high school building.

Robert turned around and saw his friend walking up, greeting him with a, “What’s good Darius?”

The two slapped hands, shook and went back to talking to their friend circle for a bit before classes started. The group of guys typically talked about their school’s sports teams, as most of them were on at least one of the teams. They also talked about how much they disliked their school since all their teachers gave them tons of work, in addition to their other responsibilities as young adults. Today, however, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

“Did you guys hear about how Jakob blimped up last week?” One of their friends brought up.

“Yeah! He looks like a whale now!” Someone else joked.

“It’s a shame. Coach said he was a good quarterback, but now he’s too big for the team.” Another commented.

While the group was never one for drama, this was news that seemed to fantastical to be true. Even still, there were photos of Jakob over the last week that saw him gain tons of pounds within days, even hundreds per day the bigger he got. It seemed impossible, but they were all looking at it so there had to be a way he got so big so fast.

On cue, Jakob walked into the school, trying to squeeze his body in between the school’s opening doorway. He had a shirt on the barely went over his gut, and his legs looked like they rubbed against each other with each step. He was like a fattened balloon of a boy! The group tried to hold back their laughter, but they couldn’t help but mock the fat boy’s misfortune. Eventually he got through, but not without making a ‘plop!’ sound as he did so. This caused even more of an outrage with the group, laughing so much they were told to quiet down by one of the teachers.

The only one who didn’t seem to be enjoying the sight as much as the others was Darius, who just was chuckling awkwardly at the sight.

“Are you feeling alright, Darius?” One of the guys asked.

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for him? He got that fat because of his own mistakes, now he’s just facing the consequences.” Robert said. He didn’t really feel guilt for people who make dumb decisions, since he was typically a pretty pragmatic person.

“No, it’s just...other stuff. I have to go, though. I’ll see you guys after class.” Darius said, walking off from the group.

If they group hadn’t immediately gone back to teasing the big boy, they would’ve noticed Darius walked off in the direction of Jakob. Not that it mattered, since Darius quickly hid himself and Jakob from the public view.

After classes had ended and school was out for the day, Robert was walking out to his car to drive home. He hadn’t seen Darius at lunch, but he just assumed he was busy with work. As he was walking to his car, though, heard his friend run up to him.

“Robert! Wait!” He shouted as Darius ran to catch up with his friend.

“Wassup?” Robert turned around, unplugging his earbuds to hear his friend.

“I made a mix tape for you. You were talking about how you were running out of artists to listen to, so I put some of my favorites on here that aren’t as popular.” Darius said, handing Robert a CD. “You can just download the songs off of that onto your phone. I made it so it’d be easy to move them from the CD to your phone.” He went on to explain.

“Thanks dude! I’ll download them all tonight.” Robert said. He was going to ask where Darius was at lunch, but his friend had already dashed off before he could ask. He could’ve sworn saw an overfed Jakob in Darius’s car, but he shrugged it off. Darius wouldn’t associate with people who don’t treat themselves well.

Once Robert was home, he went to his room go download the music Darius had given him. He loved music, and his friends were always spot-on with his taste. Music was a nice relaxation for Robert, as he was plenty stressed out from school, his part-time job and from his mother. Luckily, the store he worked at was closed for remodeling this week, so Robert was able to relax even more so while still getting paid!

Regardless, right now Robert was focused on the music Darius had given him. He quickly put the CD in his laptop and plugged his phone in too, downloading the music onto his phone as fast as he could. Eager to hear the beats, Robert plugged his earbuds into his laptop and listened to the tracks while they downloaded onto his phone.

As he expected, they were just his style. Darius was spot on in his friend’s taste; the rhythms were just his type, the rhymes, and the lyrics in general, were incredible and the beats were some of the best he had heard. He couldn’t stop listening to them!

In fact, Robert went through the entire CD before realizing they had downloaded onto his phone some time ago. Not only that, but without the music playing he could hear his stomach grumbling to eat. He figured it had been a bit since he had started listening, but it actually hadn’t been more than an hour. He usually wasn’t this hungry so soon, but Robert couldn’t deny how starved he felt. He went downstairs to the kitchen to satisfy himself, grabbing a bag of chips and a water bottle.

He turned on the TV and opened the bag of chips, grabbing a handful each time he went to feed himself. While Robert was eating, he realized he finished his water bottle quickly so he went to get himself another drink. Normally he would’ve just gotten more water, but he decided he would treat himself to a soda. One would hurt, right? He cracked open the can and started to drink it down, going back to the couch to munch on his chips as he did so. Robert felt completely relaxed, glad he didn’t have anything to stress about in the week ahead.

This stress free attitude caused Robert to eat the entire bag of chips, though, which caused him to worry a bit. “I’ll just eat less at dinner.” He thought to himself. But he still felt hungry, but he figured chips weren’t the most filling so it sorta made sense.

As if on cue, Robert’s mother walked through the front door and said, “I’m home! I’m thinking of making pasta for dinner!”

Robert’s worries of eating too much were quickly pushed to the side. He loved his mother’s pasta, and he wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to enjoy it! The cheese melted in his mouth, the sauce had the best spices in it, and the pasta blended well with all of the ingredients! It was like heaven on a plate, except in pasta form.

And Robert did overstuff himself with his mother’s pasta, struggling to get himself upstairs to go to bed. He hadn’t realized it was so late, or that he had spent his entire afternoon just eating, but the boy was so tired nothing else was that important to him. He washed up and then went to bed, whilst listening to the music Darius had offered him earlier that day.

Tuesday

Robert woke up feeling much better than he had last night, thanks to his stomach not being crammed full of pasta. He sat up, but noticed something off. His stomach seemed to puff out a bit more, whereas it was relatively flat yesterday. Robert maintained his fitness, since he played for his school’s basketball team. Though, he figured he could work this weight off in time for basketball season anyways, so he didn’t worry too much about it.

He got up and got a shower, and then went to go put his clothes on. As he did, Robert noticed his shirt looked a bit more snug around his stomach. He decided he would work the weight off after school was out, and then went downstairs to drive to school.

Robert arrived a bit late, so he wasn’t able to meet up with his friends in the morning. Luckily they were all able to meet up at lunch, which was a nice break from his classes. The group talked about the school again, as well as what happened to Jakbo too. Apparently he hadn’t shown up today, but everyone just figured he was too lazy to come to school given his weight.

The group got distracted on a topic, and Robert wasn’t too interested so he got on his phone.

“How were the songs?” Darius asked, moving over to sit next to Robert.

“They were so good! You really know my tastes dude!” Robert graciously replied. The two went on to talk about the music, and how much Robert was into it. Both boys were interested in the conversation, but it seemed like Robert was doing more of the talking.

After Robert’s gushing about the songs, Darius simply smiled and said, “I’m glad you like them so much.”

Robert was about to continue on with the conversation with more music he had found, but Darius interrupted him as if he remembered something. “I’m free today after school for once. Would you want to go out to eat and hang out?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure dude. I’m not doing much anyways.” Robert replied, and he continued on with his conversation about music afterwards. The conversation continued as before, with Darius not saying much while Robert did most of the talking.

When classes were over and done with, Robert met Darius in the parking lot of the school. “Is it cool if I drive? I can drop you back off at your car.” Darius offered.

“Yeah, sure dude. That’s fine with me.” Robert happily agreed. It was less stress on him if he wasn’t driving anyways.

On the ride to the restaurant, Robert, again did most of the talking. Darius barely said anything besides, “Yeah.” “Me too.” and “I completely agree.” Robert wasn’t sure why he was talking so much, like he was trying to get on Darius’s good side. He didn’t stop himself, though, and just went on talking to his friend.

When Darius stopped, Robert looked at the building only to realize they were at a McDonald’s.

Darius started to talk as he turned off the car, “Sorry it isn’t a nicer place. We can try to go somewhere else if-”

“No! It’s, uh. It’s fine.” Robert blurted out. He didn’t expect himself to be so volatile, but Darius didn’t seem too bothered by it.

Robert didn’t have much time to worry about it, either, as he felt his stomach let out a huge growl as he got out of Darius’s car. He didn’t think he was that hungry, but his body was telling him otherwise.

As the two entered the McDonald’s, Darius told Robert to sit down while he ordered. Robert didn’t seen a reason to object and got a table by the windows that had two seats. He waited for Darius to come sit down, which felt way longer than it actually was. Robert blamed his intense hunger, which had only gotten stronger since he had walked in, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was something else too.

After a minute or two, which felt like ten times that amount to Robert, Darius sat down across from Robert at the table.

“I thought you were hungry so I ordered a bit more for you. Hope that doesn’t mess up your diet too much.” Darius explained.

“Nah dude, it’s fine. I’m just glad we’re both free so we can hang out.” Robert said, before going on another long talk again. He didn’t even notice that he talked until their order was ready, but Darius was soon up and at the register again to get their food.

Robert’s stomach nearly roared as Darius came back with their order. Darius had gotten a chicken sandwich and iced tea for himself, while the rest of the tray was Robert’s food. It actually looked like a meal for 4 or 5 people, despite Darius’s light meal choice. Darius had gotten Robert 8 extra large Big Mac meals, since there was a buy 1 get 1 free deal on them. They included a Big Mac, an extra large fry and a large soda, all of which wreaked of calories. Despite the greasy mess the tray held, once Darius sat it down Robert dug in with gusto. He couldn’t contain his hunger any longer, and grabbed a Big Mac in each hand, taking alternating bites out of each sandwich.

Meanwhile, Darius too small bites out of his sandwich, watching Robert pig out on his order. He had never seen Robert so ravenous, as he was usually a collected guy. He decided this would be a moment to remember, and ate his sandwich while taking in the scene of his friend.

Surprisingly, not so to Darius, Robert finished all his food in record time. I had barely been 10 minutes before he had hogged down the meals that would’ve served a family. Darius, who wasn’t even halfway through his sandwich, smiled as he saw his friend sit back and take a break from eating. It wasn’t a long respite, however, as Robert’s stomach let out a monstrous growl soon after.

“I can go order more if you want, dude. No big deal to me.” Darius offered, hearing his friend’s hunger.

Robert would normally object, since he didn’t like being handed stuff for free, but decided that now wasn’t a time to hold his values in high regard. Darius had even left before he could object, so there wasn’t much point anyways.

Once again, Darius came back with a tray full of food that looked like it was for a party. This time he had ordered 10 extra large Big Mac meals, hoping this would be enough to satiate his friend. And, once again, Robert downed them all like a starved creature.

This time, however, Darius finished his sandwich before Robert had finished, leaving him free to help sooner rather than later. Once more, Darius came back with 14 extra large Big Mac meals.

“I thought you’d be hungry still, considering how much you’ve eaten.” Darius chuckled, setting the heavy tray down. Robert was going to say something about eating so much fast food, but his stomach let out another growl to prevent him from doing so.

Once Robert downed these 14 meals his stomach seemed satisfied. However, the boy was exhausted and didn’t feel like he could move at all. His stomach was so bloated it lifted his shirt up to his bellybutton, where it was comfortably loose before.

Darius decided to help his friend out and pulled a chair up next to Robert. He then put his hand on Robert’s bloated belly and started rubbing. Robert was a bit weirded out at first, but the sensation was so good he didn’t want Darius to stop. It also helped relieve the pain, which allowed him a bit more mobility.

Soon enough, Robert felt comfortable enough to get up and go to Darius’s car. He drove slowly to keep Robert from feeling sick, but eventually Robert felt good enough that Darius could drive at a typical speed.

“You sure you’ll be fine?” Darius asked, dropping Robert off at his house.

“Yeah, I think I’m even starting to feel a bit hungry again!” Robert joked, but he was a bit serious. He was starting to feel like he had to eat something now.

Darius just laughed it off, though, and said, “If you need anything let me know.” And with that, Robert was back home and just in time for dinner.

Robert’s mom had ordered takeout, since she was too tired to cook anything that day. Normally Robert would never eat fast food right after a huge fast food binge, but he normally wouldn’t have had a fast food binge in the first place. He didn’t question his appetite and stuffed his gullet some more, almost to the point he did at McDonald’s. In fact, he might’ve overdone it compared to McDonald’s!

Robert felt incredibly tired after eating so much, though, so he decided to go to bed early to rest off all the eating. As he was thinking about tomorrow, he suddenly remembered his car was still in the school parking lot! He hoped it hadn’t gotten towed yet, but he had no other way to get to school now, since his mom went to work before he even got up. Robert decided to text Darius about it, since he was so helpful earlier.

Darius was completely okay with helping Robert out, and even said he’d help for the rest of the week if Robert couldn’t get his car back. Robert felt a sensation under his bloated belly about Darius’s willingness to help, but brushed it off as him being tired. He had had a weird day anyways, so he put his headphones on and went to bed, hoping tomorrow would be better.

Wednesday

When Robert woke up he felt groggy. He didn’t want to move, and when he tried to he didn’t feel very mobile. Sitting up felt like a bit of a challenge, but he wasn’t sure why. His first thought was all the food, but he didn’t feel bloated. In fact, he actually felt heavier all around, not just in his gut.

Once he started to wake up a bit more, Robert realized what was going on. He had actually gotten fatter overnight! He looked in his bedroom mirror, and analyzed himself. His belly was hanging over his pants and lifting his shirt halfway up. His pants felt uncomfortably tight, and he also noticed his face was rounded out. If he looked down a little, he had a second chin showing.

Robert was about to panic and freak out about going to school like this, but when he placed his hand on his belly he...sorta liked it. He wasn’t sure why, but it had a nice feeling. A stirring in his pants also signified this, but Robert ignored that for the time being.

He went to go get a shower, where he felt the water run on the new curves of his body, which caused Robert to admire his body even more. He then went to eat breakfast, downing two bowls of cereal and half a gallon of milk before Darius arrived to pick him up. Darius didn’t say much about Robert’s tight clothes, which had been incredibly loose on him prior to this. They were the only thing that kept his entire stomach hidden, so he didn’t have much of a choice in what he wore.

Classes seemed to go by normally, though Robert did get more stares from people in the hallways. His group of friends seemed less eager to talk to him as well, except for Darius who Robert talked to for the entire lunch period. Robert wasn’t sure why, but he was enjoying his conversations with Darius a lot more than he had before.

“Hey, do you wanna go back to McDonald’s today after school? I really liked the last time we were there.” Darius offered.

Robert was elated, and immediately said, “Yeah, of course!” He was eager to hang out with Darius at any opportunity he had, plus he was feeling a bit peckish already, despite eating all of his own and Darius’s lunches.

Classes after lunch came and went, with Robert only thinking about going to McDonald’s with Darius. He was finding himself more tired than usual, and he wasn’t even doing anything he’d consider intense. Walking around just seemed like a more difficult task, which was starting to take a toll on Robert. He just wanted to eat and hang out with Darius.

Once the school day had ended, Robert eagerly walked to Darius’s car, where Darius was waiting for him. They drove to McDonald’s, with Robert doing most of the talking, along with his belly which let out loud growls of hunger. Neither boy seemed too surprised by it, even though Robert had essentially been snacking all day. Darius had given him some chips and other snacks from vending machines around the school to keep his hunger at bay, but they didn’t seem to affect much.

When the boys arrived at the McDonald’s, Robert eagerly hurried out of the car to the front door of the restaurant, Darius following behind him. They sat at a booth this time, which surprisingly left room for Robert’s belly so he wasn’t uncomfortable. Robert stayed at the booth while Darius went to get the food, again at Darius’s desire.

He returned with 14 extra large Big Mac meals, since the sale was still going on, and a grilled chicken salad for himself. Once he set the tray down, Robert immediately grabbed one of the cardboard boxes, ripped it open and attacked the burger. It tasted delicious despite being a greasy sandwich with little thought or preparation put into making it, and Robert finished it within a minute. He downed the accompanying fries and soda before moving on to the next burger. Darius smiled at the turn of events, delicately eating his salad and his friend bored his way through his 14 meals.

Robert finished before Darius had even gotten halfway through his salad, letting out a huge belch when he was done with the last soda.

“I guess your appetite hasn’t changed much from yesterday.” Darius joked before getting up and ordering more food for Robert.

This continued for some time, with Darius’s orders for Robert increasing each time. From 18 meals, to 20 meals to eventually 24 meals, Darius didn’t stop until Robert felt satisfied.

Robert let out a huge belch, and then said, “Oh man, that stuff is so good!” He rubbed his bloated stomach, hoping to settle it down so he could eat some more. He didn’t think about why he wanted to eat more, he just wanted to.

“You sure you’re full? I can go get more food if you want.” Darius offered, sitting next to Robert to help soothe his belly. Robert just let out a relaxed moan, not bothered by what he would do next.

“Let’s go get ice cream. I’m in the mood for some.” Darius said, and almost immediately after Robert said, “Yeah, sure!”

Once the two arrived at the ice cream parlor, which was just outside of town, Darius ordered ice cream cones for him and Robert. He took them back to the car and handed Robert his much larger cone, while he started on his own.

Despite gorging on tons of fast food earlier, Robert digs through his cone like he’s starved. Darius goes back to get more ice cream, but this time gets a sundae for Robert.

“You know, your new appetite suits you.” Darius started as he gave Robert his sundae, “You’re so relaxed, enjoying yourself and you seem happier than I’ve ever seen you before.”

Robert down his sundae, listening to Darius as he did so. “Plus...it’s kinda cute.” Darius started again, but this time Robert’s interest was especially piqued. “You just let go and don’t care. I really like that. And all this extra weight, it’s doing wonders for you body.” Darius said as he got closer to Robert.

Robert felt an incredible sensation under his stuffed belly, feeling his tool rub against the bloated form. He had to hold himself back as Darius planted a quick kiss on his cheek, nearly losing all etiquette in the moment.

“I’d love for you to just keep eating with me and growing. Would you want that, too? At least for me?” Darius pleaded.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll do it!” Robert nearly moaned out.

Darius smirked. He had Robert right were he wanted him.

Shortly after, and a few sundaes later, Darius was driving Robert home. He had eaten tons today, more than anyone could ever expect any person to eat. They said their goodbyes, though a bit more compassionate this time, and Robert went to his room.

His erection had been nagging him for some time now, so he decided the first thing he would do is relieve himself. He took off all his clothes, not like they fit well anyways, and got to work. As he was pleasuring himself, Robert started to feel up his bigger body. He was starting to like--no, love--the feeling. He squished his moobs, which almost fit perfectly in his hand. He rubbed his hand across his bloated gut, releasing moans of pleasure as he did so. He felt his chubby thighs and butt, realizing how big he had gotten there as well.

All of this was too much for Robert, and before he knew it he felt a wave of pleasure as he came. The sensation was too much for him to bear, and he fell asleep right then and there, forgetting about a shower or other hygienics in his nightly routine.

Thursday

Robert started to wake up, but he didn’t really want to get out of bed. He didn’t feel like he had the energy to get up, but if he did he felt too lazy to want to get up. His eyes groggily opened and closed, adjusting to the sunlight coming in from his window.

The sunlight was annoying, and it was enough so to make Robert want to get up and close the blinds. When he went to get up, though, he barely felt himself sit upright. Robert went to look down to see what the problem was, but even that was difficult. In fact, he still felt like he was half asleep with how difficult it was to see. He tried rolling over to get out of bed and landed on the floor with a heavy thump.

He pushed himself up, though still not without difficulties, and went to his bedroom mirror to see what the problem was. Though, once Robert saw his reflection he knew it wasn’t an issue, but something great!

Robert didn’t fit in his bedroom mirror, but he could tell he had gotten much bigger over night. He could see his face was much chubbier and his body was bigger, but he couldn’t see many specific details about his body. So, he decided to go to the bathroom which had a larger mirror.

Robert waddled his way to the bathroom, getting more and more turned on with each step, feeling his flab jiggle from such slight movements. Once he was able to see his reflection, Robert was at full mast. He’d take care of himself then and there, but he was too busy admiring his new body.

His belly looked to be as wide as three men and it sank down to his thighs, almost covering his knees. Sitting above his belly were his moobs, which looked to be the size of melons. His nipples had also expanded and were pretty sensitive now, which Robert also loved. Turning to his side, Robert saw how far how his belly went out. It had to be more than a foot in length, but his focus quickly turned to his thighs which looked just as large! They were covered in cellulite, jiggling whenever Robert took a step. Robert then turned around and got a look at his huge ass. Each cheek looked to be two or three times the size of one of his moobs, and they looked just a jiggly as his thighs did!

As he admired his form in the bathroom mirror, Robert got an idea and waddled back to his room for his phone. He then went back into the bathroom and sat on the counter, his belly face away from the mirror. Robert then took a selfie where he was facing the mirror, getting his huge butt cheeks and rolls of back fat in the image.

Quickly afterwards, Robert text Darius the picture saying, “You like how big I’ve grown? 😉”

A few seconds later, Darius text Robert back, “🥵🥵🥵 Damn baby! You’re looking so sexy, but you need to get bigger.”

Robert wanted to get bigger, too. He knew he had to eat tons, and even that thought turned him on. He decided to go get dressed and head downstairs, completely forgetting about getting a shower. Robert put on a muscle shirt, which was the thing that covered his belly the most. He also put on some gym shorts that had been too big for him a month ago. Now, they completely showed off how fat his ass was, as well as how thick his thighs were.

Waddling downstairs nearly out of breath, Robert saw his mother had bought donuts, as there was a box of donuts left out. There were only 11 left, but Robert was glad there was tasty food at home at all! He started stuffing the donuts into his mouth, getting chocolate and icing all over his face and shirt. Halfway through the donuts he realized he didn’t have a drink, so Robert opened the refrigerator and pulled out a gallon of milk, drinking directly from that. He got some milk on his face that trickled down his fat body, but he was too busy eating to notice.

A few minutes later all the donuts and milk had been consumed, leaving Robert full and ready for Darius to come pick him up. As he was relaxing, he let out a deep belch just as he heard Darius beep his horn to tell Robert he was outside. Robert then waddled outside to Darius’s car, grabbing his bookbag as he left.

Once he was in Darius’s car, Darius brought him in for a long kiss, rubbing Robert’s belly as he did so. Robert and Darius talked about how big Robert had gotten on the way to school, as well as how Robert would grow bigger eventually.

Robert didn’t think of much besides himself growing bigger or Darius for the rest of the day. He didn’t pay attention in classes, trying to eat the snacks Darius had given him that morning. Once lunch rolled around, Robert couldn’t wait to see Darius.

The two met up with their usual group, but they had been distancing themselves from Robert that week. Not that Robert cared, so long as he had Darius. Darius had brought bags of fast food to lunch, and he intended to stuff all of it into Robert. As he started to do so, though, Robert was letting out moans and groans of discomfort.

“What’s wrong, Robert?” Darius asked, not wanting to blow their cover and call Robert his significant other in public.

“I...I can reach below my belly. But I’m so horny!” Robert whined, trying to stretch his fat sausage of an arm below his gut to relieve himself.

Darius smirked seeing the situation, and said, “Here, feed yourself for a bit. I’ll help you out.”

He then reached under Robert’s belly, groping Robert’s fat as he did so. Robert let out pleasureful moans the entire time, even before Darius grabbed his dick. When Darius found what he wanted, though, Robert’s moans only became louder and more frequent. They were almost starting to annoy their group of friends. Not like they cared, though.

As Darius jerked Robert off, Robert went into overdrive when eating. He finished all of the fast food, as well as his school lunch. Shortly after he finished his food, Robert finally released, with Darius rubbing Robert’s huge gut as he let out exasperated breaths.

“I...I’ve been trying to...do that all morning...thanks babe.” Robert panted, Darius just smiling as Robert was completely infatuated with him.

“What do you say we go out to eat right now. Skip the rest of our classes.” Darius suggested. He knew what Robert would say. Even before all of this, Robert was never one to say no to skipping class.

“Hell yeah! I’m still so hungry!” Robert groaned as he belly let out a big grumble.

And so the two went to McDonald’s. And the ice cream parlor. And a new buffet in town. And all of the buffets in town, in fact. Darius had driven Robert to nearly every greasy fast food place in town, and he ate all of them out. Well, the buffets had to completely refresh their stock, at least. And the ice cream parlor had to wait for their new shipment of food. McDonald’s too.

Regardless, Robert was an eating machine, and he was only full after cleaning out a few establishment’s worth of food.

“You wanna come back to my place? I can make some stuff for you to eat since you ate all the food from all the places in town.” Darius offered, laughing at Robert’s gluttony.

The stuffed boy let out a huge belch before replying. “That sounds great! I’m always down to eat more!”

Robert’s binge streak had caused him to act more like a slob, what with all the food being shoved in his face constantly. His shirt looked more like a dirty rag now, and his face was almost always covered with foot bits and sauces. He also let out more belches, and even some farts, but he didn’t seem to care that it disturb other people. Darius was fine with it, so why should he care?

Once the two arrived at Darius’s house, Darius had to help Robert out of the car. He could feel Darius’s hard abs against his flab, and got turned on by the sensation. He wanted more of that sensation, and decided getting fatter would be the best way to get more pleasure like that.

Darius helped Robert waddle inside before sitting him down at a table just outside the kitchen. It wasn’t big enough to be a dining room table, but it had a few seats around it and was big enough to have food on it which is all Robert cared about.

A few moments later, Darius came into the room with a cake and some platters of other treats. Donuts, brownies, pastries; all laid out for Robert to eat. Of course, Robert immediately started stuffing his face with the food, not bothering to make sure all of it got in his mouth. He even grabbed hunks of cakes with his bare hands, too concerned with devouring it to care about how clean he was.

It wasn’t surprising that he finished all the treats within 10 minutes, letting out a big belch afterwards to give himself more room to eat. Darius wasn’t letting up either, bringing out 2 large pizzas and some chicken wings, both of which dripped with grease. Robert tore into them, too, getting grease all over his body since his shirt had stretched up to make room for his belly. Robert’s pants had snapped off too, but he was so big his privates were hidden. It did let him show off his huge ass, though.

This cycle continued, Darius bringing out his seemingly endless amounts of delicious foods constantly. Even Robert was surprised, since he had eaten out a few buffets in town. However, he was no match for Darius and felt stuffed a few hours after arriving home with him. He let out an enormous fart, jiggling his body, once he was done.

“You ate quiet a lot fat boy.” Darius giggled, jiggling Robert’s huge thigh.

“Yeah...I was...*pant*...hungry.” Robert goofily smiled. He wanted to eat more, but he knew there wasn’t any room in his gut for that.

“Let’s get you upstairs. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day, too.” Darius whispered, exciting Robert. The big boy was too tired to think about it too much, though, so he lazily fell onto Darius’s bed once the hunk got him there. Shortly after, he felt Darius’s arms wrap around him and fall asleep shortly afterwards. He barely even noticed the headphones go on his head.

“Sleep well, baby.” Darius started, rubbing and fondling Robert’s fat, “I know you’ll love these extra special mix tapes I prepared for you.”

Friday

Robert woke up, feeling a heaviness push down on him. Instead of worrying him, however, it made his dick stand at full attention. He tried moving, but only brought ripples throughout his body. He knew he had gotten fat, but now Robert realized he was huge. He couldn’t wait for Darius to see him, though!

He tried turning to his side to see his boyfriend, but he could barely see over his chins of fat. With enough force and desire, though, he was able to flip over to his side only to see Darius wasn’t in bed with him. He was going to try and get up to see where his boyfriend had went, but his venture was shortly stopped when he hear a voice.

“Oh, you’re finally up!” Darius cheered.

Robert couldn’t see him well, but he could smell that he had food. Darius set his platters down and sat Robert up. His belly pooled out in front of him, showing off his many rolls of fat. His moobs sagged on his sides, chafing his meats sacks of arms a bit. His thighs were as thick as he was on Wednesday, and his butt cheeks were each the size of 5 basketballs.

Now that he was sitting up, Robert could see that Darius was also naked, except for his underwear. He could now admire Darius’s muscled body, including his abs he had felt yesterday. Robert was too enthralled and turned on to question Darius feeding him breakfast food from the platters he had set down. Not that he minded, since he was hungry anyways.

Donuts, bagels, pancakes, waffles, bacon and even cereal were fed to Robert, who was too big to comfortably feed himself. Though, since Darius had to press his hard Adonis body against Robert’s flabby fat, Robert didn’t mind at all.

Once Robert finished all the breakfast food, though, Darius left for a bit and came back up with lunch. Burgers replaced pancakes, pasta replaced donuts, wings replace bacon and more fattening foods were brought into Darius’s room, which had become Robert’s personal diner now. The boy got grease all over himself, distracting him from the fact he felt sweatier. It didn’t cover his gassiness, though, which had increased two-fold from yesterday. Darius didn’t mind the extra gas, and Robert loved the feeling whenever he let out a big belch or a fart, so he just kept them coming.

Soon, or at least soon to Robert, Darius had left again and Robert assumed lunch was over. However, Darius came up with more food and placed in down again.

“Hope you’re ready for your midday dessert.” Darius winked before grabbing ahold of Robert and flipping him on his belly. Darius then set the platter of food, which consistent of a amalgamation of what he was set earlier, right in front of Robert’s face. Robert knew what he was supposed to do and shoved his face into the unhealthy food.

As Robert dug in, Darius stripped himself of his only piece of clothing, that being his underwear. He then got on the bed and guided himself on top of Robert. Robert felt this, and his dick immediately got hard again. That didn’t stop him from eating, though, and decided not to question Darius about what was happening.

Shortly after, Darius took his own hardness and shoved it in between Robert’s huge ass cheeks. It took him a bit to find what he was looking for, but a yelp from Robert signaled he found what he wanted. Then, he started to fuck the fat boy, moaning in pleasure as his week’s worth of work paid off.

“Damn baby, you’re so massive!” Darius enforced, as well as remarked. He loved how huge Robert had gotten, and he knew Robert loved it too, whether it be his own love or his desire to impress Darius.

Shortly after, Darius released and came into Robert, who also let out an orgasmic moan from. The fatty released shortly after as well, continuing to stuff his face as Darius left more food out for him. Though, he passed out once there wasn’t any food left for him to eat.

Darius admired his new pig and laughed. He was eager to see what would come of Robert.

Saturday (Epilogue)

An iron door creaked as the manipulator walked down the stairs. It was dark, though not quiet. A muffled moaning sound could be heard, as could the sound of large mass squishing and moving. The smell was also atrocious, as if someone had brought back the stench of a restaurant’s bathroom to the place. To anyone else, it would be repulsive, but to this puppeteer ti was delightful.

He turned the lights on, slowly walking over to one of his latest projects. It looked like a mass amount of clay had conglomerated into sweaty, smelly pile. Though, the master really knew what it was.

“Jakob, I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself!” Darius said, jiggling the form in front of him.

The machinery under the blob shifted, giving it a slightly more human form. Or, at least, a human face. The blob let out a pleased moan, all it could do with the tube of lard in its mouth.

“I know you’re getting a bit lonely down here, but don’t worry. You’ll have a friend to play with soon enough!” Darius encouraged the blob, hearing it let out a huge fart that made the form jiggle for a good minute.

Darius smiled as the blob got more and more excited. He pushed a button and heard its excited sounds grow louder and louder before slowly quieting down and ceasing.

“Aren’t you glad I’m letting you enjoy yourself? Where else can you just be my lazy, horny boyfriend?” Darius asked the blob.

It let out pleasureful moans again, before Darius hit the button once more and caused the moans to get louder again. Once again, they slowed down before silencing and Darius saw the results of that go up a tube and into the room over.

“And just you wait. There’s going to be so many friends you’ll meet, Jakob.” Darius said devilishly. “I can’t wait for you to meet them all!”

#weight gain #male weight gain #gay weight gain #weight gain story

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

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Humans are Weird “The Cuteness Principal”

Hey guys, just wanted to get something small and fun out for this week. It isn’t very long, but I hope it’s funny, and you enjoy it :)

The Intergalactic Journal of Behavioral Psychology and Neurobiology

Humanity survives just like any other species. The Biological imperative demands that they continue their species through offspring. All species have this imperative ,though it is shown in different ways. For the Vrul, a sense of duty and logic evolved to tell them offspring was necessary; for the Rundi, the maturation of offspring is inevitable and not up to them in the first place. However, for humans the issue is a bit tougher to understand, for if you know anything about human offspring you know that they are helpless, loud, smelly, slimy, and generally unpleasant requiring years of parental care before they are capable of taking care of themselves. However, evolution created an ingenious way to not only keep humans from murdering their offspring out of frustration, but to make them WANT offspring.

This need is known as the “Cuteness Principle”. We don’t completely understand it, but we know that certain physical characteristics cause the release of the pleasure chemical “dopamine” in the human brain. Generally humans are rather bad dealing with these feelings and can react with perceived aggression, or feigned sadness. The two most common feelings include the desire to squeeze the cute thing or the over-exaggerated “awwwww” noise.

Now, only humans can accurately confirm what is cute, but we generally find things with large eyes, big heads, and small noses will do the trick. Unfortunately humans can also find inanimate objects cute. By utilizing the inverse size to width ratio, you can make an object cute to a human; that is if you make something stubby and fat a human will probably think it’s cute.

Anything that fits under this category is likely to attract human attention and the overwhelming desire to protect or take care of whatever it is.

“Alright everyone, now remember, the GA reports say the Celzex are a very proud warrior race and have easily offended honor. It is important that we remember to treat them with respect, difference, and maybe a little bit of awe or fear, you know to boost their egos.” Commander Vir said adjusting the captain’s cap atop his head and straightening out his uniform.

In deference to this new, and proud warrior race, they had all donned their most formal garb. The Commander wore his uniform complete with cords, gloves, and ribbons while Sunny had done her ceremonial Drev armor. Krill didn’t wear clothes, so he just came as is. A couple of the marines and a few members of the bridge crew trailed behind that, all dressed to impress.

The Galactic Assembly had sent them ahead of the main envoy to meet with the Celzex under the impression that the two warrior races of humans and Drev would be best equipped to deal with this new race.

Together, they stopped just outside the conference room and made a few last minute adjustments to their uniforms. Most, if not everyone, eyed the door wondering what they would find behind it. Images of six foot tall monsters stuck with spines and mouths lined with glistening teeth.

Commander Vir took a quick, deep breath, and then pressed the button at the side of the door which slid open with a hydraulic hiss. He stepped forward single eye scanning around the room, and then immediately froze, “Sweet mother of…… aw-” A hand dropped onto his shoulder squeezing painfully to cut him off before he could continue.

Commander Vir turned to look up at Sunny, who had stopped him, his eyes were wrinkled in an imploring expression. Behind him, the other humans were filing into the room only to freeze in their tracks. Together their heads tilted, their shoulders bunched, and, despite having the prudence to keep silent, mouthing long and drawn out awwwws to each other.

Sunny had only ever seen this reaction on a couple of occasions usually involving small animals, and tiny human offspring.

For the commander’s part, he was able to keep his mouth shut only with some difficulty as he fought back the desire to pick one up and hold it, to squeeze it. It was just…. Too adorable.

The proud warrior race of the Celzex where about two feet tall at most constructed out of a colorful ball of fluff, with comparatively large feet and tiny toes. On its torso, which also acted as it’s head, it had a sort of piggish snout, massive wide eyes and a floppy pair of pig-like ears atop its head.

Commander Vir looked back at Sunny with a near pleading expression.

She shook her head at him as if to warn him that it would not be prudent to cuddle the delegation party.

One of the adorable creatures stood just then and marched over to where they stood. It’s feet were so large, that it was forced to walk with a rather floppy waddle. It wasn’t slow mind you, they actually looked quite nimble, but the walk definitely did not help. Sunny kept a hand on the Commander’s shoulder as he fought tooth and claw against his own instincts to squat down and ask the creature it’s name in his sweetest baby voice, used for dogs, and small children.

The creature stopped at his feet and looked up expectantly large eyes narrowed.

The human fought down another aww face, and snapped his hand to a salute, “L-” He cleared his throat here facial muscles twitching aggressively as he tried to maintain a serious face, “Lord Celex, I am Commander Vir of the UNSC and adjunct representative to the Galactic Assembly. We welcome you aboard our ship. Is there anything we may provide you during your stay?”

Lord Celex glowered up at the commander with one eye closed slightly more than the other. The effect was….. Probably not what Lord Celex had intended. Commander Vir’s mouth twitched, and his chin trembled. Sunny commended his efforts to fight back a smile.

He was clearly fighting a losing battle.

“We require none of your frivolities human. We are here to speak business though I warn you we will not tolerate disrespect from you or any of your men.” Though his voice was relatively normal through the translating software in their implants, they could still hear the high pitched yipping noises that were its real language.

Glancing over her shoulder she found similar reactions on the other humans. One of the marine’s eyes widened and he had to turn away covering his mouth with a hand.

There was a multitude of biting lips, staring at the ceiling, and downright smiling as they failed to hold their composure.

One of the marines stared ravenously forward with a hungry expression as if she planned on gathering them up in her arms and formally adopting them as her fuzzy children.

Commander Vir walked up to the table and pulled out a chair, “Shall we begin discussions then…. my …. Lord.” He tugged at the collar of his uniform, and Sunny watched the small creature stand taller. She realized with some amusement that his Lord probably thought the human was nervous…. Intimidated by his impressive stature and soldierly bearing.

Lord Celex and his followers refused to ask for smaller chairs, and in so doing they spent at least ten minutes watching as the creatures climbed onto the chairs, with some difficulty. Commander Vir fought heroically against a smile as the warlord scooted, wormed, and inched his way onto the chair using his face to balance himself before standing up.

Another marine looked onward as if he was just aching to go over and help them, or even to just hold one for a few seconds. The reactions about the table were similar, hands were rung, faces fought against their natural inclinations. Smiles erupted only to be covered by hands.

Sunny had never seen such longing on the face of any creature before.

It was almost heartbreaking to watch.

And it only got worse once the Celzex decided to explain their war practices to the humans. Though the Celzex had, somehow, managed to build ships and travel the universe, they also had no hands, so war, or dueling involved standing about ten feet apart from each other then running headlong into each other. Whoever fell over, or was knocked out lost and was forced to forfeit. This may have been manageable to control if they hadn’t brought videos to ‘demonstrate their might’.

Krill, standing off to the side, worried that the humans might just erupt. Trying to hold back laughter like that couldn’t have been healthy. A marine at the far end of the table struggled so hard his face was red, his body shook, and tears streamed from one of his eyes hand over his mouth as he fought desperately to keep quiet.

Commander Vir utterly failed to keep the smile from his face grinning madly hands clutched tightly on his lap.

Others of the marines clasped their hands as well held up to their chests with doting expressions.

Sunny found herself grateful that the Celzex appeared not to be able to read the human facial expressions. She was, however, forced to fight off a laugh. Coming from a true warrior race these practices were more than laughable.

“You see that we are not averse to war. Our people are mighty warriors and have been for thousands of years. You would do well to respect us, human! If the Galactic Assembly wishes to ally themselves with our might they must be willing to give us the respect we deserve. Is that clear.”

“Of course…. Lord Celex, the assembly will honor you wishes to- to the best of-its-abilities.” His voice had raised a few octaves straining against the baby voice, and a fit of laughter. The muscles about his mouth worked furiously to control himself, and he stood quickly saluting the creature again, “Forgive our quick exit… m-my Lord.” his voice was so tight by the end of this Krill worried that his larynx would blow apart with the pressure

Lord Celex waved a foot dismissively at the humans who were hurriedly rushed form the room, looking over their shoulders and back towards the Celzex with expressions of longing so profound Sunny worried she would have to tackle them.

Out in the hallway the humans were silent as they hurried up the hallway and away from the conference room. Once they were at a sufficient distance, the entire group of them burst into rochus laughter. Leaning against the walls, and sinking to the ground they were practically crying.

Through tears one of the marines lifted his hand and waved it about, “I am…. Lord Celex...f-fear my wrath.”

“I will destroy you with the power of cuddles!” more laughter

“But seriously guys can we just talk about HOW CUTE THEY ARE!” The sentiment was chorused. “I just want to hold one so bad.” One of the humans pouted looking down at their empty hands sadly.

Commander Vir leaned against the wall, “That was the hardest thing I have ever done…. I just wanted to…. To squeeze it ...”

“So fluffy!” one of the other humans moaned.

Sunny had a feeling it might be prudent to send a different negotiating team next time. The humans had been valiant in their efforts, but they had been defeated profoundly by lord Celex. If things came to a war, she feared for their safety simply because the humans would be more likely to snuggle the creatures than to make war with them.

#humans are space orcs #humans are insane #humans are weird #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities

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zamilemzizi · 3 years

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A trip down lockdown memory lane!

A trip down memory lane

As my business steadily builds itself back up, with a new face and some Covid-influenced changes, I look back at what it was like for a few months last year as just the “Mom.” The South African lockdown, one of the strictest in the world at that time, forced most of us Marketing and PR SME owners to close our doors and focus on creating a safe and “new normal” environment for ourselves and our families.

My parents both contracted the Corona Virus and so, it was left up to me to care for ALL five grandchildren for a few months. Including my own children, I had two five-year-olds’ (one boy; Wandi and one girl; Koli), one nine-year-old girl (Thotse), a twelve-year-old girl (Lungi) and the legend himself, my two-year-old son (Bugsy) whom you will have read a lot about on my personal Facebook page. As if that was not enough, we rescued an eight-week-old puppy (Luna) too!

Being a person known for preferring the company of all the Mzizi grandchildren, I was up for the challenge of this time spent being reacquainted with the daily struggle of just-being-the-mom-with-no-work without the pressure of having to go to work.

I acknowledge that my experience of this time is grossly different to that of a majority of my fellow countrymen/women, who struggled to make ends meet. Zam’s Hive started a fund, which generously received funds donated by almost ALL of my clients, close friends and colleagues from my place of work. We used these funds to assist families who wrote in via WhatsApp and SMS stating what their urgent needs were and paired them with the correct donor. I was astounded at how the people I knew were able to look beyond their own experience of the Lockdown, and were able to give the little (or lot) that they had to keep hope alive.

However, being the stay-at-home mom yielded quite a few hilarious experiences, which naturally, I shared on social media as they happened. Here are some of these posts. I hope they make you chuckle a bit at my expense. I hope they remind you that no matter how bleak the situation, our inner circle, our families, our children, the people that matter most to us are the ones we should keep our focus on.

How the wars began…

Wandi’s benevolent fart

Raising boys is a BREEZE!

My Wandi has reached that age where every hug and cuddle is a conscious decision on his part to be with me. It says, ' I choose to be near YOU. I choose you, mommy'

So imagine my joy as I was working in my office and my big boy chose that moment to sit on my lap...

He sat facing me, flashed his special smile and said' 'Mommy, let me show you how much I love you'

He put his hands on my shoulders and closed his beautiful brown eyes. I could see him mentally reaching deep within himself in order to share what he had to say. Then...

I felt it. A persistent drill-like hammering on my sturdy thigh where his bony bum was perched.

The stench was instant and the fog it created in my mind was confusion personified. I could not immediately compute that my baby came all this way just to fart on me. As realization dawned on me, my little angel held onto me just a little bit tighter to keep me in place as the hammer-drill was still operating. My thin leggings were no barrier from the barrage of bodily functions battering my poor skin.

During this assault, Wandi did not change his facial expression at all. He looked like a little Buddha bestowing a blessing upon a lesser mortal.

When he was done, he nimbly sprang off my leg and bestowed a beguiling cherubic smile upon me. Slowly reversing from the room with his cheesy smile and eyes closed, he blessed me with his benevolent ' enjoy the smell mommy' and quietly closed the door.

Bugsy drinks shit water

I'm on my knees begging for this changeling to be taken. Return Bugsy pre-terrible twos to me please!

I went into the toilet for a teensy while. I'd been holding it in for some time chasing my kids around. To my knowledge, fake Bugsy was safely chilling on my bed.

As my empty bladder and I float out the bathroom, changeling proudly displays a cup of water he is drinking...now this is a problem because all taps and cups are beyond his reach. This cup looks like the dirty one I ignored on the floor a teensy while back- are you judging me Karen?!

I frantically urge fake son to show me if he got water from the other toilet. He proudly replies, ' I no drink here Wandi peepee here' This is good. It's great actually. Wandi has diarrhea and drinking from his toilet could kill someone. Never mind Corona.

So I drag the smirking not-really-my-son into the kitchen to wash this mysterious cup. At this stage I'm fuming at the lord thinking 'turn this crap into wine NOW'

As I wash the still alcohol free cup, I turn to find swopped-at-birth guy smacking his lips and drinking from the bucket mqobothi style.

MY HEART SKIPS A BEAT!

I used water and Jik to clean dog poop just now. I spilled the water but clearly not all of it. What's worse here? Jik poisoning or dog poop poisoning?

The terror child is ok. I gave him milk and surrendered the rest to his creator.

I'm ok. I have a new twitch in my eye and I think I might have peed my pants a little. But otherwise baaah I'm good.

No really.

Just fine.

Look- fake son took the tin of milk and smeared the stuff on himself.

I'm just FINE!

Then the tensions were rising

The stand off

In a bid to demonstrate his defiance of my authority, my two year old has taken the long life milk and some shopping bags to an undesirable corner of the house. He has boldly announced that, 'I puttinnnin me in noty cona' This is his strategy to deprive my authority of putting him in a corner myself. The standoff continues...

Sulking in the shower

I swear I don't make this stuff up...

Wandi just played with matches and his cousins came to tell on him. Naturally I gave him 'the look' times 10. He says to me,

'I know you're cross with me and wont talk to me.'

He stalks off to the shower and sits there while singing his new and spontaneously composed struggle song. The words weren't too clear but this is what I heard:

Take me away in peace, take me away in peace.

Please note he has taken to eating some of his meals in this shower.

Can someone please send me a bottle of gin??! Its for the kids.

The breaking point

Exacting revenge in small ways

My kids broke my hair clippers machine while I was cutting them. So now I'm leaving them with unfinished cuts because one needs to take revenge wherever the opportunity may present itself-even if it's your own kids. They think they know me. Mxim!

Mom flu strike

I've been in bed with flu for a week now. During this my kids haven't given me an inch of space and rest.

I'm still a horse, jungle gym, chef, personal snot cleaner and unwilling audience to dance shows and song decompositions.

Tonight was just the worst! I went to the chemist for more meds and so needed a nap from the trip. Only to realize that I'd over slept and it was supper time.

After a mad dash to cook, serve and feed the royal highnesses, I'd had enough.

Where am I now? What am I doing now? These are all relevant questions I'm happy to answer for you.

I'm in my bedroom. For the first time since I became a mother, I have done the only sensible thing a tired parent can do...

I'VE LOCKED MY BEDROOM DOOR BIYAAACHES!

The situation update is as follows:

Hostile!

1. Two year old has attempted breaking door down

I DON'T CARE!

2. Five year old has resorted to creepy body plastering against door and quietly chanting 'mooommyyyy can we have ice cream while you die?'

I DON'T CARE

3. In a rare show of solidarity the boys are now howling like wolves outside the door, throwing in the odd 'moooommmy where are youuuu'

I D O N T C A R E!

4. Nine year old niece has increased the volume and frequency of her coughing

IIIIIIIII DOOOOOOOONT CAAAAAAARE!

I'm at peace in my warm bed. Let the siege continue I have all that I need in here. A bathroom, all the toilet paper in the house, the only phone with airtime and did I mention -I'm the only person tall enough to cook. Muhahuahua!

They will know me!

The resolution?

Wandi prays for peace

So as usual the kids were acting up and driving me crazy before bedtime. This time however, the transgressions were extreme.

Someone didn't pee INSIDE the toilet but decided to mark his territory next to it instead.

Another decided to generously leave food on a dinner plate and put it in the kitchen sink for Santa maybe.

Another was dejectedly roaming the passage without pajama bottoms like a homeless person. Left to wander the night in shame and bottomlessness.

This was the last straw and I blew my top off.

EVERYONE TO BED WITHOUT A STORY NOW!

Even the little one understood that Armageddon was nigh, and scurried into bed as fast as his fat stubby legs could carry him (only half way up the bed usually).

In an unusually respectful and hesitant tone, Wandi bravely reminded me that I forgot to pray. So fine! I asked God to please help me make my children good etc.

Wandi again bravely offered to pray too and this is where he played his master plan into action (he never wants to pray):

Wandi: Dear God, please make all my dreams come true. The end.

Yes. He said the end and not AMEN. I felt a reluctant smile coming on but I was wise to the enemy.

The next morning the kids all came to greet me in that way guilty kids do hoping for a cease-fire.

'Good morning rakhali' etc.

Then the master played his Ace move.

Wandi: In the name of Jesus, good morning everyone!

How could I remain grumpy after my son evoked the name of Jesus?!

He's goooooood. One point to Wandi. None to me.

Please subscribe to my blog and follow me on social media for more insights into; what goes on in the life of a working mom building an empire. All the links are below. My women’s network as well as my courses are also available on this site.

#workingmama #workingmom #zamshive #liveyourbestlife #zamilemzizi #startsomething

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greenwaterskeeter · 4 years

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i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

#by auti #hopefully this is something good for someone :)#long post #yikes i hope this isn't just me rubbing it in that i hit the jackpot #idk i feel good about it so i'm posting it #please watch dr. gabor mate btw #that's part of this #and the untamed is part of it too #i still have problems lol don't get the wrong idea #but still everything's different now #the euphoria has worn off a bit but #it's like... it's like i'm meditating all the time?#it's not painful to be present is what i mean #i have the distinct feeling of being un-nerfed #feel free to rb!#although adding commentary might be weird #still i can imagine certain kinds that might not be so. your call!

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do-what-the-knight-tells-you · 5 years

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Elements from the Broadchurch novelization that were of particular interest::

- Ellie is a bit uncomfortable returning to work because her “suit feels strange after three weeks in a bikini and sarong”. You go get it, Ellie. Anyone wanting to write confident-and-body-positive-knows-she’s-got-dem-curves Ellie, here’s your semi-canonical backing. mother of two, rockin’ a bikini. Excellent.

- Although the division of work/responsibility between her and Joe worked for them, Ellie Worries that ppl will “think he is emasculated”, or that he will begin to feel “emasculated”, so while “the other wives are on the phone begging their husbands to come home in time to put the kids to bed, she is virtually throwing him out of the house and into the pub”, really trying to encourage him to hang with the guys or whatever, whenever the opportunity presents itself.

- Hardy is already on the edge when we first see him, talking to the farmer whose tractor has had its gas siphoned. He’s carefully staying away from the edge of the cliff, scared it’s going to induce vertigo and heart palpitations.

- The sections that are a close POV on Hardy have way more detail about the Sandbrook case than was originally clear in S1 (I assume, because the book was published after the bulk of the writing/story construction stuff was finished for S2). For instance, When Hardy is first inspecting Danny’s room, he’s struggling, trying not to think about [Pippa]’s room (she’s not named here, but it’s clear that’s the child he’s referring to). in the midst of this turmoil, he notices the height measurements on danny’s doorframe, and is overcome by the realization that there will never be any more above them. And then there are these heart-wrenching sentences: “For some people, tears dam behind the eyeballs. But when Hardy wants to cry, he has to hold them in using the back of his throat. He sometimes feels it’s the only strong muscle in his body.” yeah, c’mon, just fuck me up.

- Maggie being into women is present from the beginning here! She has a partner, Lil, whom we see/meet several times! First time she is referenced is when Rev. Paul Coates invites Maggie and everyone to that first church service about Danny. She mentions that a predecessor of his made it clear she was unwelcome there, once. He assures her that’s not him, and that she is welcome, and Lil too. She says something like “as it should be, “ and ends the convo without indicating whether or not she will come. Excellent.

- At one point the inside of Ellie’s car is compared to the inside of a bin/trash can, with empty cans and food wrappers strewn about. This further reinforces my theory that Ellie and Alec need each other to balance out their eating habits to something actually healthy. He eats very well, as far as nutrition is concerned, but he just sort of stops eating when there is work to be done. She is going to eat, goddamnit, come hell or high water, but it is plenty likely to be anything from an entire loaf of bread to whatever the vending machine has. It’s a wonder neither of them has died of malnutrition. (she also makes mention that she’s lost weight, in a probably unhealthy way, by the end of the investigation, and has a sudden realization that she’s maybe kind of, turning into Hardy).

- End of Chapter 17, Ellie offers a hand to help Hardy in or out of a boat, he has a realization “unexpectedly painful” that he cannot remember the last time he held a woman’s hand.

- In general the poor bastard really is constantly on the edge of vertigo and panic attacks.

- Reminds me again, whatever did happen with Ellie’s sister??? did we ever see any kind of furtherance or resolution of her gambling issues in the later seasons?

- Oh Shit. “I didn’t take your money.” The money Joe gave Danny, that SOCCO found taped beneath his bed, that was Ellie’s holiday money, and she assumed her sister had stolen it. Shit. What a shitbag.

- One of Hardy’s favorite things about Tess was the ability to come home, throwing last minute ideas and theories at each other, being able to pass idle thoughts back and forth, turn them over, hear them in a new light, and see what they grow into. (incidentally, exactly what he’s developing with Ellie)

- The exchange between Alec and Ellie after SOCCO Brian hits on her is great here as well. She giggles, he asks her why, she figures she needs to share this with someone, and tells him. she thinks “his face froze in another one of his Does-Not-Compute expressions”. So he seems just as weird to her as to us, does a terrible job hiding the awkward nerd within. And she totally thinks it’s cute. Bet me. Goes on to think, after they talk about SOCCO having dirty hands, “ ‘Dirty Brian’, Hardy says, with a playful roll of the ‘R’ ”. They’re totally playing with each other and it’s adorable. “She thinks to herself that it’s the first moment of genuine humor they’ve had between them, so of course she immediately messes it up.” asking about Sandbrook.

- Oh Shit, Jack’s wife shows up at his funeral. hides her identity the entire time, and Spits in Karen-the-reporter’s face before she gets in a car and disappears again.

- Hardy has a panic attack after calling Daisy and giving up for the night. “I can’t do this, Hardy hears himself say, and the words are followed by an agonizing pain, a huge fist squeezing his heart to the bursting point. He staggers back until he hits a wall, and slides helplessly down it. Hardy assumes his childhood comfort position, knees pulled up to his chest, so close that he can rest his chin there. Experience tells him that he can hold this pose for hours and hours. He remains motionless amidst the debris of his investigation until his heart rate returns to its version of normal. By the time he gets up with a low wheeze and click of joints, it is dark outside.”

- Ellie calls Joe to say she’s still stuck at her desk and she’ll be late, on the night Susan Wright is arrested. He says it’s okay, but she can hear in his voice that it is not. (So, is that the last straw? she keeps staying late, it’s clear that this shit is going to drag on forever, and his family and life are NOT going to return to normal, no matter if he keeps getting away with his crime? And this is the window, his only window maybe, where she might be too busy to intercept if he confesses? This is the opportunity to confess to Hardy, and not her?) because very shortly thereafter (and leaving his kids alone and unwatched???) they receive the call from Danny’s mobile, and they catch him out at the cabin... and holy shit, even knowing it’s her (and he must know it’s her), he slams the cabin door open into her face, probably hard enough to beak her nose, and then minutes later shoves her to the ground so hard the reader spends a moment wondering if she’s broken her wrist.

- AND THE FUCKER TENDERLY PICKS GRAVEL OUT OF THE CUTS THAT NIGHT

- (if someone wanted to write an AU, one where he is also injured that night, and his failure to hide that injury tips her off the next day, or that night, and so she is the one to put together the pieces.... and arrest him? god that would be heartbreaking. But perhaps would enable a situ where she doesn’t beat the shit out of him in custody, thereby invalidating his confession, so that shit actually sticks...)

- When Hardy gives the interview to Maggie and Ollie, the book makes it clear that he expects his confession of being cheated on is going to cause them to regard him with pity and shame. He is embarrassed to have been cheated on. He calls himself a cuckold in his head. poor bastard. so confused when they respond with empathy and admiration for him, and disapproval and dismissal toward his wife.

- Happily, an answer to the argument Jack saw, between the Postal worker and Danny. Turns out, the punk had had his truck keyed, and knew Danny on his paper route was one of the only ppl who would have been out and about at the right time of night/morning to have done it. he confronted Danny, and that’s what Jack witnessed. He comes clean to the police towards the end, insists that that is as far as it ever went, and admits that he lied because he was afraid that having had that argument, having had sort-of-a-motive, that would make him a suspect.

- Fuck, I mean, we all know Joe is dangerous, but talking Danny back off the cliff and back into the house consciously with his paramedic voice, with the kind of experience and calm honed over years of professional work... goddamn, so many ways in which he had power over young Danny.

- The moment she believes Joe could have done it. She says it can’t have been him, because the boat was burned while she was away. He would have had to leave the kids alone while he did it, and he would never take that risk. Hardy confirms that he did, that he left them, and Ellie (immediately believes Hardy, btw) finally truly understands that the moral partner she’s been building a family with no longer exists, if he ever did in the first place.

- Hardy briefly considering telling Ellie about Tess, to empathize with her pain and betrayal, and immediately knowing the situations are too different to be useful. being disappointed in himself for having thought it. pulling on every little bit of experience and training he’s ever had to try to get through the conversation.

- Oh shit. the slug trails. the slug. that little bit of symbolism didn’t feel established in the tv series, she just squishes a slug the last time she enters the house. but in the novel, her merry war trying to find the slug is a constant recurring thing, seeing the trails on the carpet, but never able to find it, the thing only coming out when they’re asleep, Joe cleaning up the slug trails after they come back from vacation. Her staring at them in despair as she cries into the carpet one night, over Danny. and then, after Joe has been revealed, she comes home and there the bastard is, big fat slug that’s been lurking in her house all this time, sitting, glistening, in plain sight. and she squishes the hell out of it. And I was so caught up in the story that, even though I BEEN KNEW how it was gonna end, I never picked up on the fucking foreshadowing until that last moment. Am I just dense, or is it just good storytelling? XD

#Broadchurch #ds ellie miller #di alec hardy #it was well worth having read the novel #orlistened to it #actally #since that's what I do #my meta #broadchurch resources

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someobscurereference · 5 years

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unfinished fic meme

I got tagged by @kimium in a writing meme!

“Rules: post your favorite parts of 3-5 fics that have been sitting abandoned in your drafts for ages. (for extra shame, throw in when you last worked on each thing.) tag 5 other writers to reflect on their life choices.”

I don’t think I have anyone else to tag, lol. So if you want to participate, just say I tagged you!

Most of my unfinished work here are things I haven’t looked at in a long, long time. I don’t even recall where I intended for some of them to go. Here are some brief previews of that unfinished work (under the cut because they’re long):

1. The one where I basically wanted to write that scene from Finding Nemo except with Leo and Odin instead (blood tw)

Leo’s heart stopped. He froze.

Odin.

Leo only had a split-second to register the sight before him, but that was unmistakably Odin, slung over the ruffian’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, horribly limp. Parts of his blond hair had been dyed shockingly red with blood, and though Leo couldn’t see his face, Odin looked awfully pale. Fat drops of crimson dripped from Odin’s hair to the floor, trailing behind him.

Dead, Leo thought before anything else. He’d dead.

He didn’t know that, not for sure, but Leo was already raising his arm again on instinct. He yelled something intelligible as he fired off the shot, some words he didn’t even recognize himself, too focused on the sudden overwhelming flood of grief and anger in his chest for self-awareness.

At the sound of his voice, Odin’s head jerked up, his eyes wide. In that same moment, Leo fire his spell.

Shocked, Leo froze.

Odin did not.

With the element of surprise apparently on his side as well, Odin twisted out of his captor’s grasp, landing flat on the floor just before Leo’s spell made contact with the ruffian’s back. With a strangled cry, the ruffian hit the floor and didn’t get up. Odin pushed himself to all fours, surprised written all over his features.

“My lord!” Odin cried, sitting up. “I hadn’t expected you so soon! It must be fate’s will that we have crossed paths like this. Are you all right?”

Leo’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Blood sluggishly trickled from a thin cut on Odin’s forehead. There was a bruise on his cheek and another just above his eyebrow. He looked dirty and worse for wear, but unmistakably, he was alive. His wounds were much more superficial than Leo had initially registered.

Still, Leo’s hands shook. He breathed in and steadied himself.

“Lord Leo?” Odin said, a little more hesitantly.

Instinctively, Leo said, “I’m fine.” He looked at Odin, who was still very much alive. “Are you all right? Can you fight?”

“Of course!” Odin was all energy and focus, same as always. He leaped to his feet and barely wobbled. “I was merely looking for a proper opportunity before I staged my surprise attack! It seems you took care of that before me though.” He flashed a smile. “As expected of my lord.”

Leo barely resisted the urge to sigh.

(Notes: I wrote 3K of this like a year ago and could probably finish it with a handful of paragraphs. I just didn’t love it, I guess. There was something about it that made me not finish. Maybe the tone or the plot not feeling as strong as I wanted it to be? I’m not sure. I still really like the concept though, lol.)

2. The Modern Trio travel between Nohr and Ylisse via water all the time (like Inuyasha) and Inigo and Owain have a fight about going out and acting their age sometimes (maybe have shown some of this before?) (alcohol/getting drunk mention)

(snippet 1)

“You just want to go out without me,” Inigo said tearfully. “You even got Severa to go with you! You both lied to me!”

Owain bit the inside of his cheek. “Sometimes we don’t want to have to play rock-paper-scissors over who has to take your drunk self home that night.”

“Excuse me,” Inigo squawked, indignant. “I don’t get drunk every time.”

“You do,” Owain told him matter-of-factly. “And that’s fine. Have fun. But you get smashed, and then one of us has to take you home and…”

He felt his face grow warm.

“Oh, I saw,” Inigo said knowingly. “Sometimes you want other people to take you home.”

Owain looked determinedly toward the castle. They were crossing the bridge.

When Owain didn’t say anything else, Inigo said, “I’m not a child, you know. Even if I’m a bit tipsy, you don’t have to fight over who takes me home. You don’t have to take me home at all. I’m an adult.”

For all of Inigo’s whining all afternoon, this was the first time he’d sounded truly serious. He might have meant his complaints before, but he clearly meant this way more.

Owain’s frown deepened. They neared the end of the bridge. The two guards stationed at the castle gate nodded solemnly at their approach, and Owain and Inigo nodded back. They didn’t speak again until they passed the gate.

“You are an adult,” Owain agreed. “But I would feel like a bad friend if I didn’t make sure you got home safe, especially when I know that if we go out, you’re going to get drunk—"

“Not every time!”

“It is every time, and sometimes—”

“You make me sound like the worst version of myself.”

“It’s not bad! It can just be—”

Inigo scoffed.

Owain spotted a flash of blond hair in the distance. He got ready.

After a beat, Inigo started, “Am I really—”

But Owain was already jumping into action. He pointed the other way.

“Ah!” he said loudly. “Lord Xander! I didn’t see you there!”

Inigo instantly straightened and looked around wildly. Owain booked it in the other direction.

(snippet 2)

“So,” Niles said, suddenly slinking out from around the corner like a cat, “men who look like they could snap you over their knees are ‘the dream,’ are they?”

For the second time that day, Owain choked on air. Under Niles’s even gaze, Owain cursed Inigo’s big mouth and recovered as quickly as he could. It was a bit of a struggle.

“An eavesdropper, eh?” he hedged. He tried to gauge Niles’s reaction, but he was a hard man to read. “You didn’t have anything else to do but listen in on private conversations then, I see.”

“Given the volume with which Inigo likes to shout from the rooftops,” Niles said, “I wouldn’t particularly call it eavesdropping.”

(This one I like the concept for but I guess didn’t finish because it’s a version of the Trio I don’t think I’ve ever written before. Or at least rarely dabble into outside of the privacy of my own head/a close friend. I don’t like going out or getting drunk or anything, but a lot of people my age do and I kind of wanted to show that side of modern life where you go to clubs and maybe have a casual hookup sometimes. I often write the Trio as people who don’t have many (or any) romantic relationships before meeting Whoever I Ship Them With In X Fic, but part of me wants to change that default sometimes. I do think about modern Odin who has no problem meeting dudes in bars and having a brief fling or doing other, wilder stuff that his friends (especially in Nohr) maybe don’t always know about. I thought it would be a neat exercise, and I still think about it. The Modern Trio having their own lives that the Nohrians aren’t privy to and are maybe curious/romantically jealous over when they find out? Also I like the idea of characters having “types” (just like real life people do sometimes) and other characters who are romantically interested in them do hear about it (as seen above, lol.). This fic was leaning to be leo/odin/niles or at least niles/odin, I think. It’s been on my computer for at least 5 months. I just really like this concept in general but I guess I’m a little embarrassed because it’s so different from what I normally write. Maybe I’ll go back to it, one way or another, someday? Also Inigo and Odin do make up, yes.)

3. The college AU Severa/Owain fic where Severa propositions Owain about getting it on (Nothing actually happens, it’s all talking)

“I can get your character sheet drawn up in no time,” Owain continued. “In fact, I think I have some extras—"

“We should have sex,” Severa said.

Owain, suddenly red-faced and wide-eyed, choked on his never-ending list of nerdy suggestions about why he thought Severa had appeared outside his window. He looked at her in disbelief. Severa took the opportunity to roughly shove Owain’s upper body back through the window and crawled in after him.

He stumbled back, too surprised to protest, and Severa fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap. She plucked a leaf from her hair with a pout, grateful to finally be on solid ground again and hoping Owain’s mother hadn’t noticed Severa sitting in the tree outside her son’s room for the past several minutes.

“Uh, I don’t,” Owain stuttered as Severa climbed to her feet. “I mean, you—”

“Seriously?” Severa said, cocking her hip in a way she hoped was sexy.

What was she talking about? She was definitely sexy, childishly climbing trees or not. So what if she’d been too embarrassed to knock on Owain’s front door and risk the chance of one of his parents answering when Severa had come with a request like this? Nobody else knew that.

She continued, “That’s all you have to say?”

Owain sputtered out several more unintelligible phrases until he finally said, “You don’t… feel obligated or something, right?”

The tips of his ears were very, very red.

Severa crossed her arms, scowling. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Owain held up his hands defensively, looking like he was regretting his words already. “I just meant—You don’t. Like. This isn’t a peer pressure thing, right?”

“What are we, fifteen?”

Owain stared. Severa’s scowl deepened.

“No,” she said. “It’s not a ‘peer-pressure’ thing or whatever.”

She used air quotes.

“Okay,” Owain said slowly. “Then… why do you want to…”

He couldn’t even say the words have sex. Severa was suddenly very doubtful she had come to the right person at all. But who else was she supposed to go to about this? Lucina? Kjelle? Inigo?

Absolutely not. Owain would have to do.

He’d always put up with her enough that she’d thought… Well, maybe he wouldn’t say no outright.

Not that things were off to a great start already.

Feigning indifference, Severa shrugged and looked at the wall beside Owain’s head. “Do I need a reason?”

“Yes,” Owain said bluntly. His hands were still raised. As though just realizing this, they fell to his side.

Severa couldn’t help but make a face. She didn’t want to explain herself. She didn’t want to say anything about what she was thinking or why she wanted to have sex, as sudden as it must have seemed to Owain. But she knew it wouldn’t have exactly have been fair of her to ask without him at least knowing something.

Because the thing of it was—

Embarrassing, she mentally chided herself with a grimace.

The thing of it was that at twenty-one years old, Severa was still a virgin.

There was nothing wrong with being a virgin. Severa knew that. Logically, she knew that.

But it was hard to convince herself that it was true.

(This one is also a modern au exploring a lot of pressures that young adults might feel when comparing their own experiences to people around them.Severa goes on to explain a lot of her reasoning to the reader about why she’s propositioning Owain, but it was getting really long so I didn’t include that here. Mostly it was about controlling the experience of your first time and when you want to have it. I never got to the actual sex part, lol. It would definitely be awkward and slow if I did. Purposely, of course. Also Severa has always lowkey liked Owain like that.)

4. The AU where royals and their retainers have a telepathic link

Niles stands at his side, impassive as any proper retainer should be at public events, and Leo does his best to appear the same when Odin’s voice rings through his mind, laughing and giddy with the exhilaration of a fight.

That was so cool! That explosion was like BOOM! And that fire! Like pfft! I wish somebody else was around to see that. Oh well, I can describe it for everyone later.

Odin’s inner voice never sounds the same as his speaking voice. Not unless he knows Leo is listening and wants to put on a show. Odin’s inner voice lacks the extravagant dressings he layers upon his words aloud. Occasionally, Odin still narrates in his mind, still writes long novels with every adjective and made up noun under the sun. But more often than not Leo finds Odin’s inner voice to be much freer and more easily understandable than he would have first expected before he’d experienced Odin’s thoughts firsthand.

Odin, Leo projects, pretending he is paying more attention to Xander’s speech than he really is. Some of us are trying to focus on our own missions.

Not that attending a meeting is a mission, per say, but it’s an important duty nonetheless. It gets the point across, anyway.

Oops! Odin accidentally projects more than Niles ever did, even after having years to get used to it. Now that he knows Leo can hear him, Odin makes it a point to use his narrative speech instead. My sincerest apologies, my lord! I’m afraid I was overcome for a moment, my mental barrier weakened through some villain’s curse. But fret not! My mental shield—

Odin, Leo projects, aiming for serious and fearing his true feelings may betray him. He knows there is no curse or attack, though there may have been minutes ago. Odin is simply too excited and eager to share, just as he always is. Leo is trying very hard not to be distracted right now, but it’s difficult when Odin’s bluff and bravado are still somehow more interesting than running the same tactical drills Leo has run a hundred times over already, necessary as they may be.

Leo also knows Niles should be hearing their exchange as well. Niles’ face betrays nothing. If Leo didn’t know any better, he could have mistaken Nile’s tiny exhale of breath as one not so amused at all. But Leo always knows.

(Note: I’d definitely rewrite this now if I ever started it again, but the core concept is still a little neat, I think.)

I have a few other fics, but they’re not that old just yet. These are all about 6 months or more old. Maybe one day I’ll finish them? Or at least use their core concepts again, lol. I hope you enjoyed these snippets anyway!

#my text #writing meme #my fic #snippets #fic snippet #long post #blood tw #implied character death tw #alcohol mention tw #telepathy au

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thorvaenn · 6 years

Note

Hi I hope this isn't a bother! I was scrolling through your fic rec posts and everything was so specific I was a tad overwhelmed cause I was hoping for a more General selection? So! I was wondering if you could recommend any favorite long/multi-chap thorki fics? I really need some more long fics to read and I am 100% okay with the fics being of any setting/rating, if that makes sense? Thank you so much if you get the chance to get around to this!!

Excellent thorki fics with 50k+ wordcount. Summaries under the cut because there’s a lot.

Number One Contender For My Heart by guardianinthesky

Dog inside the heart by thebookhunter

Facing the Vast by needleyecandy

The Unnamed Days by Clarice Chiara Sorcha

Wild Ambition Fortune’s Ice Prefers by amberfox17

Make It Go Away, Or Make It Better by rayemars

Shelter by Rynfinity

A Message Too Intimate for the Ear by Hermaline75

Side Projects by Laydee_Liesmith

Find a Home by Aria, filiabelialis

In the Grip of Grace by proantagonist

Wergeld by rayemars

Waiting for the Moon to Rise by cavaleira

You’re All I Want, so Bring Me the Dawn by thisdorkyficthing

shall we take a spin again (no witnesses) by miikkaa_xx

Fall at your feet by illwynd

…and all because of a joke in Student Housing by needleyecandy

Take the Long Way Home by cavaleira

A Poison that Never Stung by thisdorkyficthing

Cavemen Thor and Loki by Icemaidenstory

Mind-Forg’d Manacles by needleyecandy

Don’t Leave Me the Way I Am by glayish

Mad Man by griseldajane

God of Lies by izazov

These Idiots Are Going to Be Together Forever Because I Say So: Christmas Edition by thisdorkyficthing

Easily by proantagonist

Number One Contender For My Heart by guardianintheskyLoki has never been into sports, but one day Amora drags him to a pro wrestling event, promising him lots of hot, sweaty guys. He finds himself less than impressed until a particular wrestler named Thor shows up.

Dog inside the heart by thebookhunterThor and Loki are the children of a dynasty of great actors. Their mother Frigga is a grande dame of the stage and muse of the finest European movie directors, their father Odin is going down in history as the Lawrence Olivier of his time.Thor and Loki are following on their steps, with everything to prove, to themselves and to the world.But as they become dragged under the public eye, so does their past, full of secrets and lies.There are things that not even Thor can protect Loki from.

Facing the Vast by needleyecandyEngland has just declared war on Napoleon, Naval captains are winning their laurels on a daily basis, and Thor’s ship is ordered to the South Seas to seek out a lost scientific vessel. It is an assignment for an old man, but the Admiralty will hear no reason. All hope of glory lost, he takes to sea in a foul temper.Loki is an artist employed by the naturalist who accompanies HMS Hope on the expedition of rescue and research. He is to make quick and accurate sketches of those plants that catch his employer’s eye. For the first time in his life, the rest of his time is his own.

The Unnamed Days by Clarice Chiara SorchaFollowing the events of Thor: The Dark World, Jane opens her home to Thor in the hopes that now he will have time enough to at last come to terms with everything that has happened to him in the past two years.As it turns out, Loki has plans of his own for his erstwhile elder brother and the mortal astrophysicist.

Wild Ambition Fortune’s Ice Prefers by amberfox17When Thor went storming into Jotunheim he was looking to start a fight, but accidently winds up a pawn in Odin and Laufey’s plans for a permanent peace between the realms; namely, in exchange for the return of the Casket of Ancient Winters, Laufey is offering his firstborn child Loki, the Aesir-sized sorcerer, in marriage to Thor. Such a momentous decision is not to be taken lightly, so Odin sends Thor to live on Jotunheim - without Mjolnir - for a season with Loki, to get to know his prospective consort and to teach the wilful prince some diplomatic sense. Thor is horrified, his parents are insistent and no-one really knows what Loki is thinking, but he hasn’t stopped smiling…

Make It Go Away, Or Make It Better by rayemarsIt was a normal summer vacation until Thor spotted Loki in his bedroom when his cousin thought he was alone. Then it turned into something else completely; something that upends more than a few family secrets, and changes quite a few things for them both.

Shelter by Rynfinity“You really need to get a life, you know,” his editor tells him over coffee, when he loses track of himself and spends far too much time gushing over the splendid house and its amazing stonework. “Not only is it weird, it’s kind of like stalking. Don’t think I’m going to come bail you out of jail.”“No one stalks pools,” he tells her, laughing. He makes a mental note never to mention it again.

A Message Too Intimate for the Ear by Hermaline75Thor doesn’t mind being a trucker, but the long hours of empty highway can get a little lonely and using a voice modulator to pretend to be “Roxy” on a premium rate sex line does while away the time and boost his income.Until he gets a call from a young man named Loki and somehow ends up agreeing to meet him…Time to call in a favour from a friend.

Side Projects by Laydee_LiesmithIt’s summer-break and Loki’s dad has hired a team of contractors to work on their new house. New as in just-moved in; there’s nothing new about the old, rickety Victorian he’s forced them to move into. And Loki’s bitter—bitter about the move, not knowing anyone in this new town, and having to leave his few (but important) friends. But his father said they needed a fresh start and that was that, all of Loki’s protests falling on deaf ears.Now, Loki tries to ignore the team of workers who have taken over his back-yard as they embark on a much-needed reno project. But, the one with the long blonde hair and the boming voice has taken a special liking to him. He flirts, he winks; he goes out of his way to tease Loki. Loki finds himself spending more time talking to “Thor” than he would like. He also finds himself blushing around Thor more than he would like. One day, Thor stumbles across Loki doing something he really shouldn’t be… and suddenly Thor has decided to make Loki his after-work “project.”

Find a Home by Aria, filiabelialisLoki lets his head fall back, a despairing smile baring his teeth. “What do you mean by home?”

In the Grip of Grace by proantagonistWhen Loki learns the truth of his heritage, he quietly leaves Asgard behind. The search for the lost prince continues for nearly a year until Odin hires a professional tracker to find him, sending Thor along on the hunt to ensure Loki’s safe return. They locate him on Midgard, living on his own in a run down apartment—depressed, weakened, and trying very hard to disappear.

Wergeld by rayemarsIt was springtime, and Thor had taken his men war-faring to seek goods for themselves; but raiding a foreign temple brought him far more than he’d ever imagined–in either goods or trouble.

Waiting for the Moon to Rise by cavaleiraAs the newly crowned king of Asgard, Thor’s life is filled with stress as he as he navigates political intrigue and struggles to figure out what kind of king he wants to be. Desperately in need of a night of relaxation, he finds himself at a brothel he used to frequent in his youth. It’s there that Thor spends an evening in the arms of beautiful courtesan named Loki, and his whole world changes in ways he never could have imagined.

You’re All I Want, so Bring Me the Dawn by thisdorkyficthing Loki grew up being told that the bond between an omega and an alpha was unbreakable.Well, that’s a lie. A big fat lie.

shall we take a spin again (no witnesses) by miikkaa_xxWhen Thor is need of money to help a friend, he turns to a less-than-legal source. However, what should have been a simple borrow-and-pay-back arrangement gets turned upside down when loanshark!Loki decides he wants something more than simply money in return.In only a matter of days, Loki draws Thor into a dark, violent underworld, and it soon becomes clear that he has no intention of letting go.

Fall at your feet by illwyndWhen Thor confronts the Destroyer, offering himself up for the sake of the humans, Loki has a better idea: he won’t take Thor’s life. He’ll take him back to Asgard, as a mortal, with a promise to serve Loki and obey him completely. Thor, eager to heal the rift between them, is only too happy to agree. But he has no idea how damaged his brother truly is or what he really wants from him—and when he finds out, everything between them is going to change.

…and all because of a joke in Student Housing by needleyecandyThor and Loki are total opposites, stuck rooming together because someone in Student Housing thought it would be cute to place them together because they shared a birthday. They’re pleasantly surprised to find that they actually get along.The surprise when they fall in love is even more pleasant.

Take the Long Way Home by cavaleiraThor strikes a deal with Loki: each month, he will trade half of his golden apple for one day spent together in a temporary truce. Both brothers find themselves getting more than they bargained for.

A Poison that Never Stung by thisdorkyficthing Loki is a seventeen year old runaway that gets taken in by Thor. (Thor’s probably gonna regret it)

Cavemen Thor and Loki by IcemaidenstoryPrompt:Yes, I want a prehistoric AU with those two. I mean living in caves, having a simpler speech, stone tools, fleas, etc.Thor’s tribe destroys another tribe because they couldn’t agree about their territories. Loki, a son of the leader of that tribe, survives, but he gets captured and enslaved.People of Thor’s tribe dislike Loki, who’s scared and all alone among them; he’s an alien to them. But very soon Thor becomes possessive and protective of him (also, he claims him). And those who challenge his choices get roared at and also get a stone hammer to their heads. He’s their leader and he won’t tolerate his decisions being questioned (I don’t mind if Odin is in the story, but he’s no longer a leader, because he’s too old).

Mind-Forg’d Manacles by needleyecandyThe Roman Republic demands new lands, and the army, led by Caesar, is eager for glory. It is customary for them to take slaves from newly conquered peoples, which is how Loki, a Celt, and Thor, a German, find themselves torn away from everything they’ve known and loved.As slaves of Rome, the two boys respond to their captivity in strikingly different ways. As free men, their old ways of surviving become fetters.When they find each other, freedom finally begins.

Don’t Leave Me the Way I Am by glayishHe wished he could use Mjölnir as a blacksmith would, hammer himself out until he was shining and straight.

Mad Man by griseldajaneWhen Loki discovers that Thor has seemingly vanished from the nine realms, he uses all the tricks at his disposal to find his missing brother, including teaming up with the Avengers.In the meantime, Thor is pushed past his breaking point and may have forever lost his way.A story about love, obsession and the mysteries of the heart and mind.

God of Lies by izazovThere are lines no one in Asgard should cross. Not even Asgard’s two princes.

These Idiots Are Going to Be Together Forever Because I Say So: Christmas Edition by thisdorkyficthing“I know the divorce has been hard on you - it’s been hard on everyone - but you two need to stop acting like the other doesn’t exist when you’re in the same room because you’re breaking that poor girl’s heart. Alyssa and Riley are just so used to it they don’t even notice - or maybe they’re just able to ignore it - but it isn’t healthy.“Thor resisted the urge to fidget, his mouth still hanging open. Frigga took a deep breath, looking down for a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose."I know you guys have both been trying. But you have to try harder now."Thor slumped back, leaning on to the edge of the counter. "I… don’t know if I can."Frigga crossed her arms, lips taut. "That’s not the correct answer.”

Easily by proantagonistIt’s not until Jane dies that Loki finally comes to Thor.

#thorki #thorkiedit #fic rec post #rec:au #rec:canon #rec:human au #rec:jotun au #rec:smut #rec:dark world #Anonymous #dunaasks #rec:long

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impala-dreamer · 6 years

Text

The Last Straw

SPN FanFic

~Sam takes things a little too serious, and all you really want out of life is a freakin’ cookie.~

Sam x Reader, Dean, surprise OC

3,495 Words

Warnings: Supremely Fluffy with a hint of spicy Angst. But mostly disgustingly fluffy. Please brush your teeth afterwards.

A/N: This is another gem for my ‘Give Em A Merry Christmas’ treasure chest. A shout out to @fandom-queen-of-wonderland who submitted an idea for a Dean x Reader with the line “All I want is Christmas is a gingerbread man and some peace and quiet!”. As you can see, it’s not Dean x Reader, but trust me, Dean is as sweet as a freshly baked blueberry pie in this. I hope you like it. Also, there is a surprise for one of my favorite followers in here. I’m not going to call her out, but I’m pretty sure she’ll pick up on it when it gets to that bit. ;) Hope you all enjoy!

Feedback is GOLD ~ My Masterlist ~ Christmas 2017 Fic Corral

Like many things in your crazy life, getting pregnant was not planned. Well, honestly, if you took it a bit further back, meeting and falling in love with Sam Winchester wasn’t planned either. Neither was getting into Hunting, or even being aware that all the things that went bump in the night actually did go bump in the night, but hey, it happened, but that’s a story for another day.

While you and Sam had no plan to officially marry, the unexpected news of the bun now occupying your oven was nonetheless welcomed. From the moment Sam had thoroughly absorbed the news, he went a little bit off the deep end helping you to prepare. Like the true nerd he was, Sam read every single baby book in the Lebanon Library, scoured the internet for information, even joined babycenter.com as Soon2BPapaWin2017. He stalked the message boards, chatted with expectant mothers, and dove headfirst into taking care of you and his future bundle of joy.

He was so adorable when researching baby gear, often spending late nights reading every review of his chosen product only to write it off in favor of something that looked just a tiny bit safer. He filled up his online shopping carts on Amazon and BabiesRUs with the best of the best, never buying anything, because he knew he could find better. He only wanted the best for his child, and in turn, you.

While Sam couldn’t protect you with rubber bumpers on table corners, or wrap you in bubble wrap, he could try to protect you in another, rather annoying way. Sam took it upon himself to get you healthy, and while he meant for the best, and you loved him for it, it was driving you nuts.

He had tried to insist that you stop hunting, but you slapped him so hard upon the first mention, that he didn’t bring it up again. It wasn’t until well into your seventh month that you voluntarily stayed back, not wanting to slow the guys down. The worst part, though, was that during the entire nine months of your pregnancy, Sam insisted you follow a strict diet that he concocted, filling you up with more vegetables and random vegan proteins than you had ever seen in your life. Add to that Sam guilting you into joining him in prenatal yoga, and taking no less than three walks a day while you were home, by your third trimester, you were done.

Through all your whining and discomfort, Sam was by your side, never letting you drink a single kale smoothie by yourself. He was getting you both healthy, and he practiced what he preached. While he was pushing every last one of your buttons, you did appreciate the love he put into every annoying thing he did.

Dean was another story altogether, and the soon to be uncle slowly became your best friend and savior, often sneaking you chocolate when you needed it most, and letting you fall asleep on him when Sam had pushed you an extra mile.

Both Winchesters were excited and happy for the next generation to arrive, but they went about showing their joy in rather opposite ways. Sam answered your complaints with offers of cocoa butter lotion and random science facts, while Dean would tuck a pillow under your back, flip on Netflix, and rub your tired feet. When watching you choke down green leafy things, Dean often jokingly promised to take you out for a steak dinner before the baby arrived, and it always pissed Sam off. He would throw his hands up and stalk away, mumbling to himself about how he was just trying to help and make sure everyone was healthy.

Sure, he was over the top and the food was disgusting, but he was just trying to help.

As Christmas rolled around, you found, much to your dismay, that you were rolling around too. Your ankles were swollen, your back ached, and your stomach shot out so far in front of you that it looked like you were having triplets.

Waddling through the Bunker in search of something to do that wouldn’t get you in trouble with the father to be, your nose picked up a deliciously warm, spicy scent and your feet turned towards the kitchen.

Nutmeg and ginger filled the air, making your stomach grumble as you floated towards the oven. Sam turned around to greet you with a kiss and a smile as he set a freshly cooled plate of cookies down on the counter.

“Hey, Baby,” he said, kissing your nose. “And Baby…” he smiled and bent down to kiss your giant belly.

Laughing at his goofy smile, you shook your head. “You’re gonna have to come up with a new pet name for at least one of us or it’ll be confusing.”

“Well that will depend on what Little Baby is,” he told you, gently rubbing a huge hand over the apex of your stomach. “Still don’t want to find out?”

“Nah,” you said with a tiny laugh. “I’m only doing this once, might as well keep the surprise.” Your smile faded to a deep grimace as the baby kicked hard, and Sam jumped in shock. His face lit up with such a smile as he felt his child press against his hand, that you couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s so cool,” he said under his breath.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, maybe for you. Little Winchester’s been kicking the shit out of me all day. He’s very aggressive. I think he takes after his uncle.”

“He?”

“Just a guess,” you shrugged and then licked your lips as you looked around Sam to the cookies not being eaten. “And, like his uncle, Baby is also hungry.”

“I made you a treat,” Sam grinned and went to grab the plate.

“I’m starving, thank you!” Happiness filled your soul as you looked down to see what appeared to be a plate of real, legitimate gingerbread men cookies. With an excited grin, you picked up the top cookie and lifted it to your nose, taking a sniff. It smelled right… but…

Sam watched carefully and without comment as you opened your mouth, but something in his eyes made you stop before the treat hit your tongue.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s in this cookie?”

An innocent laugh left his pink lips and Sam shook his head in shock. “What? Nothing.”

“Sam…”

“It’s good, trust me.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked from the cookie to your boyfriend, not for one second believing his lie. Nine months of quinoa and spinach cakes had made you more than suspicious. Even being Christmas, there was no way that Sam was suddenly going to let you have a normal cookie.

“What’s in this cookie, Sam?”

“Just taste it.”

“Not until you tell me what it’s made of.”

“I’ll tell you after you taste it.”

The baby kicked again, clearly wanting some food, and so, after a deep breath, you closed your eyes, took a bite, and instantly spit it back out. “Oh good God, what is this?”

“Flax seed,” Sam laughed.

“What?” You wiped your mouth with your sleeve and stared up at him in pained shock.

“Flax seed. It’s good for you.”

A deep, burning anger rolled through your gut and pushed out from your lips with a screeching wail that echoed through the Bunker. “Dean!”

Boots pounded the hard floor as Dean flew through the hall, and he jumped down the kitchen steps, out of breath and panicked.

“Y/N! What is it? You gonna have the baby?”

“We’re gonna have a funeral!” you yelled, fists clenched as you stepped forward, scaring Sam enough so that he backed away slowly.

Dean gripped the wall, catching his breath as he assessed the situation. “What?”

“I’m about to murder your brother.”

Sam held his palms up in surrender as you came closer and closer. “Y/N/N, I’m just trying…”

“Don’t!” you shouted and shook a fist up at him. “Don’t you ‘Y/N/N’ me, Sam! This is all your fault! I’m fat and tired and starving and you won’t let me eat! I hate seeds! I hate salad! I want Indian food, goddammit! The baby wants pizza and Hostess cupcakes! You’re trying to kill me is what you’re doing! And now? This cookie?” You threw the offending gingerbread man at his head, barely missing him. Sam ducked and looked to his brother for help, but Dean stood in the doorway, smartly keeping his mouth shut. “How dare you! All I want for Christmas is a motherfucking Gingerbread Man and you gave me this! I hate you!”

Sam’s lips quivered in shock, struggling to find something to say that would soothe you, but there was nothing. He watched with sad puppy eyes as your rage turned to tears and your knees gave out. He tried to catch you as you sank to the floor, but you pushed him away, angry and tired.

“No! Leave me alone, Sam! This is the last straw! I can't...I can't…”

Finally, Dean moved from his place by the door and hurried to your side. He scooped you up without a word, and you gratefully fell into his flannel covered arms.

Ten minutes later, you were out cold on the couch, having passed out with your head on Dean's shoulder. Carefully, and with the finesse of a cat burglar, Dean slid out from underneath you and stretched.

Sam was in the doorway, watching with a frown. “She hates me,” he said as Dean pushed himself up from the sofa.

Dean shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh!” Waving Sam out of the room he went on, “She doesn't hate you, Sam. It's like...hormones and shit. And the poor girl...dude, you gotta let her eat; she's starving.”

“She eats!”

“Rabbit food, man. She's eating for two and neither one of them likes tomatoes. And you know that and still you put tomatoes on everything. Also, seed cookies?” Dean hung his head in disgust. “It's Christmas, Sammy. How could you?”

Sam’s jaw twitched. “I'm just trying to do what's best. You don't know, Dean. You haven't read all the books, you don't know what could go wrong. Gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, placenta previa...You just don’t know!”

“Sam…”

“The baby could be breech! Do you have any idea what that means, Dean!” Sam’s hands swam through his hair as his eyes grew wide with worry. “Peripartum cardiomyopathy...she… she could have a friggin’ heart attack at any time!”

“Sammy…” Dean tried to snap Sam out of his rant, but the taller brother began to spin as his eyes darted about the room, seeming to read all the horrible things he’d seen on the air.

“That’s not even what could happen during labor! She could get an infection, she could bleed out! Just… die. You don’t understand, Dean. I have to keep her safe. I have to!”

“Damn it, Sammy, stop!” Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulder and jerked him to a halt. “Listen to me! You have to calm down. That’s all worst case stuff. Y/N is healthy, so is the baby. You’re the only one causing any problems.” Sam stared at him, silent and pained, but Dean sighed and went on. “Now, just relax. Nothing that could go wrong is gonna be fixed by force feeding your girlfriend plexiglass seeds or whatevers.”

“Flax.”

“What?”

“Flax. Flax seed.”

“Whatever,” Dean cringed. “The point is, you have got to let up. She’s miserable, can’t you see that?”

Sam pulled away enough to look over his shoulder at you. Your cheek was smushed against the seat, your hair a mess of sweat and tears. “She’s fine,” Sam argued. “Besides, we’ve only got a few weeks left.”

“Exactly, so why not let her enjoy it?”

Sam shook his head sternly and turned back to Dean. “No. I have to protect her, and this is the best way I can right now. This baby is…” He paused, not sure how to explain himself.

Dean filled the empty space. “It’s just a baby, Sam. People have them everyday. Sometimes more than one at a time.”

“No. You just don’t get it.” Sam gave up, and after a last look at your snoring face, he pushed passed Dean and set off in a huff. “And you can stop sneaking her Snickers when you think I’m not around, Dean.”

“Well, screw you too,” Dean muttered under his breath. “I’ll give her a damn Snickers if I want. This ain’t prison.”

You stirred on the couch, and Dean popped his head in the room to check on you. He would have attempted to carry you to bed, but you always hated that, and he was afraid he’d drop you now anyway.

“Dean?” You blinked into the dim light, woken by a ridiculously loud grumble in your tummy.

“Hey, Sweetheart, you want to go to bed?” Dean extended a hand, which you took, but shook your head, declining his offer.

“No,” you told him as you tugged his arm, pulling him down close to you. “What I want… what I need… is meat.”

Dean laughed and bent closer to kiss your forehead. “I know, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

“No, Dean, I’m serious.” You lifted your chin to look him straight in the eyes and took a fistful of his shirt between your fingers. “I need you to break me out of here. You’ve been saying for months you’re gonna take me to a steakhouse. Come on, El Chapo, Today’s the day!”

“Y/N/N…” Dean’s hand closed around your fist and he patted your fingers gently. “We can’t. Sam’s just being…”

“Nuts,” you cut in. “He’s insane. Do you know he makes me take this giant vitamin every morning? It’s the size of a golf ball, Dean.” Tears were springing up behind your eyes as you begged him to help you. “And I have to wash it down with… he calls it milk, but goddammit, Dean, it didn’t come from no cow. You gotta help. If I smell another blade of wheatgrass I’m gonna cut my nose off. Please. You gotta help me.”

You could tell you’d won in the way his shoulders dropped. Dean sighed and bit his lip, looking down at you with such sympathy it tugged at your heart. Sure, you were pathetic, but that was your card to play right now. It wasn’t as if you were milking it, Sam was literally torturing you with all the health food. For the last three weeks you’d been dreaming of oreos; that couldn’t be normal.

With one last pitiful pout, you whispered your prayer to the green-eyed superhero you called friend. “Please, Dean.”

“If he finds out, he’s gonna kill me.”

“It’s just a burger, Dean. What could go wrong?”

The steakhouse was not open, as it was nearly one in the morning on Christmas Eve, but Millie’s Diner was open all night.

You sat sideways in the booth because your belly wouldn’t fit, but you couldn’t care less about how you looked. Dean ordered a giant meal for you both, and you matched him bite for bite. The fries were overdone and deliciously crispy. The milkshake was cold and divine. The burger… you couldn’t find a word for it. Your brain frizzled when the rare meat and melted cheese hit your tongue, and all you could do was close your eyes and sigh happily. Dean watched you with a smile as you devoured your dinner, and even gave you a strip of bacon right off his burger. “For the baby,” he said with a wink. You didn’t care if it was for the baby, or your hips, you needed it all.

Smacking your lips, you sat back with a satisfied grin and rubbed your belly. “Thank you, dude. That was amazing.”

Dean mirrored your pose, right down to the belly rub. “It was. Good idea, Y/N/N.”

A flash of pain wrapped around your middle and you cringed as it stopped your breath. “Ow.”

Dean’s head snapped up from his plate where he’d been eyeing a drop of cheese that had been left behind. “You OK?”

You nodded quickly and shifted a bit in the seat. “Yeah, this table is just uncomfortable.”

“Well,” Dean laughed. “We could have sat at the counter, but you’re a little off balance lately.”

“Shut up,” you laughed and then tensed up as another wave of pain circled your belly. “Ouch!”

“Y/N/N…”

Dean sat forward, eyeing you suspiciously, but you waved him off. “Just indigestion,” you assured him. “I’m good.” You hissed at another stabbing pain, this one harder and coming up from below. “Gaah!”

“OK, that’s not OK, Y/N.” Dean scooted to the end of his seat and moved to stand up.

“No! No! Sit.” You took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’m good.” Another crackle of daggers around your sides. “Fuck!” You gasped but kept your lips lifted in a smile that was nothing short of creepy now. “Pie? They have pie. Let’s get pie.”

“Sweetheart, the only thing we’re getting is you to the hospital.” Dean finally stood up and had your elbow in his hand, trying to urge you up.

“No, no hospital. I’m fine.” The last word came out on the end of a scream that turned every head in the brightly lit diner. “Dean! I think I’m in labor.”

“Yeah, Y/N/N, I know.” Dean picked you up and slung your arm around his shoulder, carefully guiding you to the exit. He paused to hand the waitress some cash, who basically pushed you both out of the door.

“Dean!”

“Oh, Sam is gonna kill me.”

Sam probably would have killed you both, but all of his anger, fear, and months of worry faded away when he held his daughter in his arms. Tessa Rose was born on Christmas Eve after an exhausting seventeen hours of labor. She was soft and squirming, already a loud and feisty Winchester as she cried as Sam tried to adjust her against his chest. He’d read every book ever written on infants, but holding the newborn, his newborn, was something he was not prepared for.

You lay in bed, slipping in and out of sleep, watching with a pain-killer induced smile as Sam struggled in the chair next to your bed. His face was twisted with nerves, but his eyes were calm and happy. Finally, Tessa found a spot that she seemed to like, and fell asleep against her daddy’s chest. Sam rocked gently side to side and looked over at you with a truly contented smile.

“You did a great job, Mommy,” he said.

“Well, I had help.”

Sam frowned and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I went a little…”

“Psycho Father To Be?” you laughed. “Yeah, I noticed.” Sam nodded sadly and looked away, but you sat up and reached for his hand. “Hey, Sam, I get it. It’s OK. I love you. You’re gonna be an amazing dad. You just have to learn to go with the flow.”

Sam smiled and fit his fingers through yours. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Dean appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat. “OK, can we roll the credits on this RomCom? I want to see my niece.”

“Come on in.” Sam sat up and gently lifted Tessa from her spot, showing her off to Dean.

“Oh, she is… awesome.” Dean grinned and took the baby in his arms, smiling down at the perfectly chubby cheeks and dusting of brown hair. Tessa popped open her eyes and batted her delicate lashes, instantly wrapping her uncle around her finger. Dean kissed her forehead and then set her down on the bed. “I got a you a present, Tessa.”

Sam climbed into bed with you and you snuggled together as Dean pulled a red velvet Christmas stocking from his jacket. Before you could stop him, Dean pulled the sock up over Tessa’s legs, and the baby sank down into it, her chin popping up over the white faux fur.

“Dean, what are you doing to my baby?” you asked from your spot under Sam’s arm.

Dean laughed to himself and snapped a picture of your festively swaddled daughter. “That one’s going on the fridge.”

“Take it off,” Sam said with a laugh.

“Why?” Dean picked Tessa up and held her aloft. “She’s the best Christmas present ever.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Sam echoed, and pulled you close. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Sam.” You looked up and placed a warm kiss on his lips. “Merry Christmas, Dean,” you added, looking over at the giddy man holding a stocking full of baby.

Dean shifted Tessa to lay in the crook of his arm, and kissed the tip of her tiny nose. “God bless us,” he said softly. “Every one.”

FOREVERS (closed): @akshi8278 @allinhishands @amanda-teaches @atc74 @autopistaaningunaparte @because-imma-lady-assface @blanketmadeofstar @blushingdean @brewsthespirit-blog @brooke-supernatural16 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @cassieraider @charliebradbury1104 @charred-angelwings @chelsea072498 @chrisevansisdaddy04 @chumi-la-chula @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @crispychrissy @daughterleftbehind @docharleythegeekqueen @dustycelt @dylanosprayberry03 @emoryhemsworth @emptywithout @erin654 @evansrogerskitten @evyiione @faithfullpanicmoon @fallenangelsneverfade @fandomismyspiritanimal @fandom-queen-of-wonderland @fangirlofeverythingme @fatalcrossbow @feelmyroarrrr @findingfitnessforme @flormolero @frenchybell @fuckyeahfeysand @geekgirl1213 @ginasmith @grace-for-sale @growningupgeek @hair-dresses @hexparker @icequeen6666 @idreamofhazel @ilsawasanacrobat @imascreamerbabymakemeamute @impalaimagining @im-super-potter-locked @jayankles @jessilliam-caronday @jesspfly @jocelyn-of-the-jellyfish @jpadjackles @just-another-winchester @katelynbkool @katymacsupernatural @kdfrqqg @lauren-novak @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @lefthologramdeer @lipstickandwhiskey @luciisthebest @mandilion76 @meganwinchester1999 @mery-magizoologist @michellethetvaddict @milkymilky-cocopuff @missselinakitty @mistressofallthingsgeeky @mjdoc90 @mrsbatesmotel53 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @musicgleenerd @myfand0msandm0re @naviwhite @newtospnfandom @nichtlisax @notesfromalabprincess @obsessivecompulsivespn @ohmychuckitssamanddean @percussiongirl2017 @pinknerdpanda @poukothenerd @purrculiar @queen-of-deans-booty @ridingmoxley @riversong-sam @roxy-davenport @roxyspearing @samisimportant @saxxxology @sgarrett49 @sireennotsiren @skadi-winterfell @snarkpunsandsarcasm @sofreddie @sophiebobzz @spn-fan-girl-173 @spnjunky @super100012 @supernaturaldean67 @supernatural-girl97 @supernaturallymarvellous @super-not-naturall @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @theoutlinez @there-must-be-a-lock @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @thinkwritexpress-official @tmccarney @trexrambling @turnttover @typicalweirdbookworm @walkingkhaleesi @waiting-to-find-myshadows @wayward-marvel-sommer1196 @winchesterprincessbride @wordstothewisereaders @wotinspntarnation @xxmizzlexx

Sammy Lovers:

@akoya-pearls @bambi95-blog @blackfandomtrashandproud @blue-heaven-winchestergirl83 @french-the-llama @frickfracklesackles @jealousbitxh @jenwritesfiction @lavieenlex @melodyhiddleston @m0ther-of-drag0ns @niamandthings @nerdwholikesword ofloveandlonging @oneshoeshort @paleogamrgrl @pilaxia @sammy-moo @samwinjarpad @spnwoman @spontaneousam @winchester-writes @winter-in-wakanda

#spn fanfic #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester #fluff #angst #all the fluff #sam winchester fluff #oh lord did i mention fluff #i cant believe it #fluffy fluff fluff #give em a merry christmas

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fireflydunes · 4 years

Text

2020 Reflection: I basically come back to tumblr annually just to reflect.

Here’s something I wrote in 2017, I’ve answered this every year since.

“Dear future me,

Are you happy?

Do you have someone you love?

Can you drive yet?

Are you one step closer to achieving your goals?

I bet you’re still fat :p work on that yeah?

Oh and please love yourself bc i certainly love the idea of you”. Its November 2019 now. Its been over a year since my last update. Am I happy? The answer is a bit complicated. If you were to ask how my mood was, I’d say everyday it fluctuates between “Okay” and “Content”. I may have placed too high of a bar on happiness there. What does that mean too high of a bar. Do I need to have no negative emotions in order for me to be truly happy. Thats certainly not true; I feel a collective swarm of emotions and all throughout they hit me like a whirlwind. Either a cold breeze or warm fuzziness, it’s constantly washing over me. What’s important is that I hold onto the good stuff, reflect on the bad stuff but let myself feel everything fully and then let them go. This is also much easier written than done; this is my first time reflecting in a long while, I’ve been going to counselling and it’s alright–sometimes I feel amazing sometimes I don’t. I forget that that’s okay. But yeah, I think collectively as a whole, I’m doing really well, I’m no where near unhappy–I was terribly miserable as I’d just started uni and found out too much of my identity was tied to Physics and I’m letting go of Physics because the course just isn’t for me. I still feel disoriented, like an empty slate–not really, I’ve got my values and traits very unique to me, yes, but I feel like something veryy important to me has been taken away. And I do want to evaluate why that is?

Why was physics so important. I’ll explore that in a separate document. But hey, am I happy? Yes, but not how I’d thought I’d be happy when I was younger. I might actually prefer this–being able to take in all the emotions that aggregate something that feels…good. Do you have someone you love?

I nailed this last time and I continue to nail this aspect. Afu, Naani and my sister have continued to remain very strong foundations of constant love and support. I have lovely friends that I love dearly and miss, I met my boyfriend at possibly the best time–it was when I really didn’t need one nor was I looking. My life was so full and rich with love, the thrill of the next step, loads of travelling, love even from my mother and the extended family (an unexpected source). But I was so so full and I had an amazing relationship with myself as well. To then meet someone, that still, added to this was amazing. I was able to fully open myself upto a new type of love and be comfortable with my vulnerability and I love him so much for that. Can you drive yet?

I’m in Canada right now, so I can’t drive here yet ;-; This is terribly sad, I was already an awful driver and now it’d gonna be worse. Are you one step closer to achieving your goals?

In a way, yes. In another way, no. I’ve gotten closer in the sense that the rug has been ripped out from underneath and everything I believe in, has changed. I am in a forest, vast and dense. I am pretty lost–but I am trying to figure it all out. In a way, I feel like this is me looking at what I truly want, without any underlying desire to gain my parent’s approval and prove my worth.

The next part is on Body issues.

Lately, my relationship with food and my body hasn’t been great. It was really amazing the majority of the year bc I exercised daily, I ran everyday, did a couple of marathons, but I did kind of grow endurance and also did some extreme stuff like running 7k after 2 hours or badminton. By then I was at my fittest condition but my relationship with my body, and eating, was still no where near healthy. I’m more aware of it now, and do continue to work on this. But at the same time, I’d like to mention, my relationship with food is not amazing, but my body remains loved and cared for–the extent of it is just something I wish to deepen. I’m gonna skip the next questions and go right to the very last one bc that’s what I want to talk about. I chose to study. I’m in university now, but 2019 was not at all about university. 2019 was about, isolation, finding a way to grow in that isolation. Being surrounded by the loveliest sweetest kids, learing how to live with mom, learning that I’ve so much work to do. I learned how to comfort my mother, I learned what it was like to fully feel good in my own body–which was amazing but always came with an awareness and knowing the danger of feeling so good in a body that looked really good. “Does this mean my fall will be even deeper?” I do want to reach a point in my life where my value and worth are no longer so dependent on image and shallow opinions of others or how I am to be of service to others. We’re gonna work on that. Question for 2020 zuha. Are you living off-campus now? How has that been? It’s End of November 2020 Are you happy?

I agree with me from a year ago, it’s very much not a bad thing and quite normal to be feeling a swarm. I feel varying degrees of happy, sad, upset, hungry throughout the days. I’ve just broken up with my ex after a year and a couple of months in, so I’m learning how to just be okay with this new norm of feeling heartbroken, sad, missing him, and almost each time going through the waves of grief. With COVID happening I think, since March, there’s been a lot of heartbreak, emotional strain, isolation like never before, loneliness...really feeling so alone. I’m really struggling now because that still, helped so much with making me feel not-alone. So I’m also struggling in general right now, haha. This one’s not as well-worded as the others, everything still feels fresh even though its only been a month since. I’m struggling most with my urge and want to immediately be better, immediately be resilient and not really give myself a chance to be in pain, be heartbroken, just be devastated. I’ve said this a lot throughout this post but I think, I’m struggling with this one, haha. I’m trying to find joy in small things now, I think that’s what give you happiness, sustainable happiness. The daily tasks, small things, the interactions with people. Just trying to focus on one day at a time, and small things that might give me warm fuzzy feelings.

Do you have someone you love?

Yes, I’ve also lost two relationshipsthis past year. I’ve lost my first real “I love you” person and I’ve lost what was an incredibly close and loving relationship with my sister. But in this time, my friends have been my family, my utmost support, they banded together really to come lift me up. I feel very loved, and grateful to have them. I’m learning to find peace with how things are with my sister. I’m trying to actively reach out to my friends--I tend to self-isolate and feel like a burden in my relationships. Which is a bit unfair, because it’s alright to admit that some of our actions can be burdensome to others, but people help you regardless and in spite of the inconvenience because they love you. So I’m trying to have a habit of thanking them rather than apologising. Also, yes, myself. A thought that brings me so much comfort is knowing every version of me that existed and will exist, loves and cares for me so much. Looking back at the past me’s I only feel love and kindness and I know a year from now, older me is giving me a hug and telling me everything going to be alright.

Can you drive yet?

I can, and I drive on Sundays or when I’m off to get an errand. It’s really rare though since I’m so cooped up and swamped with uni. UM, big change though, I’m a very calm driver now, I drive very slowly. The reckless driving really was not cute and endangered many lives at one point and I really learned from that. And I think as you grow used to your surroundings as well, and have a shift in I guess, maturity, things just naturally slow down.

Are you one step closer to achieving your goals?

Yes. I’ve also really made peace with Physics: It’s the novelty of it and wanting something absolutely without a doubt amazing. A mix of, i want to do something grand and amazing so I am deserving of my parents’ love, as well as this is definitely unambiguously amazing and so I will undeniably be amazing, special, and seen as such by my pare--you get the point. So the thing now to watch out for, isn’t what profession I choose or careers I want togo for, it’s making sure I’m choosing it not to make up, yet again, for this lack of love and attention as a child.

I had an amazing year exploring my subjects, I’m a complete humanities baby, I love anthropology out of all of them at the moment for the freedom and range within the discipline. It was also really lovely meeting professionals in the Creative Arts, also very wonderful being told that taking that leap of faith last year was brave. I’d realised that this was something perceived by many and also I’d internalised, as something cowardly, so it was extra meaningful to have so many people see courage instead.

I’m also still allowed to love physics, ofcourse, and astronomy and be amazed and awed but also--be sulky and sad and every now and then grieve the loss of that childhood to early twenties dream.

So far the most important thing I’ve learned is, you don’t just have one career, you have multiple, and neither of them are your identity.

I bet you’re still fat :p work on that yeah?

I’m honestly surprised that in 2017 I was so harsh on myself but then remember it was later that year I started therapy for the first time ever. I’m also, not surprised that last year by this time already I’d noticed that my relationship with health in general is a bit strained. It’s not diagnosed or anything in case anyone’s reading, just a general notice of when I’m mentally doing not ok, I eat in a way that I don’t really feel good and this brings about a lot of shame. I also had tied way too much of my identity to running and being healthy. This year, I haven’t done a lot of either, so naturally my weight has changed. I’m struggling with it right now, moreso because of how isolated I am, and the actual comments from the outside I’m getting on it. It helped to, instead of getting sad, to get angry at them. I’ve said things back, retaliated a bit, drawn the line at inappropriate (but not perceived as such in my community) comments. that’s been extremely good. However, it’s been a challenge ever since my dad made such a point of it. This might be something worthy to think on, the relevance of him. But, I think for now, I really am trying to remind myself at every weight I’ve always been weary and cautious of health, internally i’ve been the same person, same qualities, same amazing fun loving all that jazz, I’ve always been worthwhile. That being said, my knee ache is back, my PCOS is worse, my hairfall is terrible--I need to lmao build some muscle, be more active, but in a way that elevates my mood and I don’t tie so much of myself to it.

Question for 2020 zuha. Are you living off-campus now? How has that been? So this was meant for Off-campus in CANADA. I’m not there b, I’m back home, same as every transitionary moment in my life haha. It’s a mixed bag honestly. With COVID, male’ isn’t any better. No where seems any better honestly. Some days are tough, but I feel really touched by my friends, the checking up, the gaming together. It’s quite lovely. Univevrsity has also been quite =, nice but HARSH. Universities have really proven themselves as institutions for profit, it’s really disturbing and saddening, but individuals within have been so lovely and understanding and you really love these subjects and these people far more than anything in Physics kek. 2021 Zu, Nice to meet you. I’m really curious to see where you are a year from now. What would you want me right now to know. :)

#personal #fireflydunes

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sopewriters · 7 years

Text

First and Last | 02

First and Last: 01

Pairing: Hoseok X Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut; Business!AU

Word Count: 7.3K

Warning (s): Hints of emotional abuse, child neglect, self-worth issues; dirty talk, slight degradation, light D/s (praise kink returns), squirting (?) but overall pretty casual.

Note: This series is a trainwreck waiting to happen. On the bright side, there definitely is a part 3 coming out, tho I don’t know how long it’ll be :)

“Hoseok.” He straightens up to face the man at the desk with cool eyes, “You’ve disappointed me, once again.”

His neck prickles in discomfort as he tugs lightly at the collar of his shirt, but he offers nothing more than that. The dismissal stings, of course it does, but Hoseok has gotten to the point where he’s, in fact, used to not being good enough.

The stigma follows him wherever he goes; his own personal raincloud. It doesn’t help that he sees the very same things he struggles to do being exuberantly completed by his brothers. He loves them very much, even though they don’t have the same mother, and he knows that they, too, love him, but still. It hurts, aches inside of him, when he can’t reach their level, when his Father doesn’t find him to be worth it.

Jung Hoseok. The middle child. It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be, being one of the heirs to the biggest manufacturer in the country. Especially not when he’s plucked aside in favor of Yoongi and Jungkook; the formidable eldest, and the zealously talented youngest. He sometimes sees their point too; what’s to like about Jung Hoseok, boring middle child?

And when he found you, so eager and so willing to please, so soft and kind…even you were like the rest. And that has hurt him more than he could ever tell. He knows that Yoongi’s noticed it, his elder brother being unusually soft on him, but it hurts that he needs his pity now, among everything else. Useless.

“—Are you even listening to me?” His father’s voice cuts in through his thoughts, and Hoseok jolts slightly, before whispering a small ’yes, sir’ that the man probably doesn’t like anyway.

Sure enough, the man sighs, annoyance poking at his normally hard, masked features.

“You should learn from your brothers,” He spits out, walking to the door, before firing his parting shot, “Sometimes, I wonder if I chose the wrong woman.”

The door drifts shut, and only the silence remains.

Hoseok can feel the tears springing forth, the premature stinging at his eyes a dead giveaway, but he bites his lip, forcing himself to hold them back. He can’t prevent a small sob from escaping his throat, as what he said sinks in. He…really hates himself sometimes.

At the door, Jung Jungkook watches with sad eyes, a steely resolve beginning to form in him at the sight. He’s going to fix this…and who better to figure out the problem from, than Yoongi?

“I messed up, Jimin.” You say dully into the phone, a couple of days later, taking in a shuddering breath, “I…I messed up so bad.”

“Y/N, you’re not making any sense.” Jimin’s voice sounds strained over the line, “You’ve got to work with me…what happened? What did you mess up?”

“I met Jung Hoseok.” You whisper, and he makes a sound of confusion.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Did you get your interview?”

“Jimin, I,” You shake your head, “I can’t explain this over the phone.”

You’re sitting on the tattered couch in your tiny little apartment, clutching at your phone with shaking, trembling fingers. Jimin sighs through the phone, and the worry is evident in his voice, even as he says, “Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

“You…had sex with him.” Jimin deadpans, and you nod sadly, “And you decided to…not write the article, but Hoseok found out about your profession and cut things off even before they started.”

You’ve been holding back tears this entire time, but when Jimin says it like that, it sounds pitiful. You sniffle, as the waterworks begin, and Jimin freezes, before softening and holding out his arms. You burrow yourself into them, fingers grasping weakly at his knitted sweater as he rubs your back soothingly.

“I messed up.” You sob, not for the first time, “I should’ve told him in the first place!”

“You were only doing your job,” Jimin reminds you gently, “You know that. Besides, Boss accepted the write-up you gave him about the general event.”

That’s true. You spent the past few days writing and re-writing an article, pieced together entirely from your shady memory. The Boss, in one his kinder moments, assured you that your name won’t be on the by-line—it’ll be anonymous, instead—but it doesn’t do much to quell the guilt inside you.

“But that doesn’t matter!” You snap, before sighing at the surprised look in his eyes, “Sorry, it’s…it’s just…I miss him, so much.”

“But you literally just met him!” Jimin exclaims, shock aggravated on his usually docile features, “It’s not like you’ve even had a single date!”

“Which is why it makes no sense, I know.” You wipe some of the tears from your eyes, “And I’ve been crying non-stop for the past few days or so, because it feels like I’m missing something.”

You look at Jimin, placing a hand to your chest, “Something here.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He sighs, making you start crying all over again, and pulls you into a tighter embrace, “He’s just another guy, right? You need to pull yourself together, find someone else.”

You nod to him but, deep down inside, know that he’s not just another guy. That it might as well be impossible to find someone better in your entire lifetime.

But all of that goes unsaid.

Hoseok is at his desk.

The furnishings are simple, not elaborate how he knows Jungkook likes them, and not overtly modern like Yoongi’s. His appears more like a classic study, with the cherry wood desk, two chairs across it, and rows of files behind him. Being the Director of the HR department, he has access to the files of every employee, though most of them are protected in the computer system. It’s only the higher ups who have physical files to their names.

Even as he works, though, Hoseok’s mind drifts, as it has been wont to for the past few days. His chest still aches with phantom pangs of hurt, as he wonders why on earth he gets attached so quickly. It’s always been a weakness, and it seems it will never change. He wishes he never met you, then immediately backtracks. He doesn’t regret meeting you. He just…wishes things were different, Wishes that he were stronger. Better.

He looks up in surprise when Jungkook enters, eyebrows instinctively flying up. Jungkook hardly ever visits him at the office, nor does Yoongi. In fact, the three of them make it a point not to see each other at work because of how weird it would be.

“Jungkook, what’re you doing here?” He asks, frowning in concern, “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, hyung.” Jungkook reassures, shutting the door behind him, leaving just the two of them privy to the conversation at hand, “It’s something more…personal.”

“Oh.” Hoseok eyes the way the youngest is flushing and fidgeting awkwardly, and feels something fond stir in his chest, “What is it Kookie? Is it a girl?”

He ignores the way it stings when he thinks of his own love life.

Jungkook immediately turns beet red, eyes widening as he stutters, “N-No! Don’t even get that idea into your head! I just…girls aren’t…I mean…”

He huffs at Hoseok’s laughter, but ends up smiling at him with soft eyes instead.

“When I said it’s personal, hyung,” He takes a deep breath, crossing the room in giant steps, before slamming his hands on Hoseok’s desk, “I was talking about you.”

“About me?” Hoseok frowns in surprise, “What about me?”

“You’re clearly distracted at work,” Jungkook recites, “Not to mention any time I see you around the house, you’re either moping or sulking or both. I…”

He shakes his head, “I can’t stand seeing you like that, Hobi hyung.”

“Kook-ah…” Hoseok stares at him, and he knows that Jungkook knows what he’s been so upset about lately, “Don’t do it, whatever it is that you’ve got in mind. Please.”

He sighs, closing his eyes to bite back tears, “You know Father won’t allow it.”

“Forget Father, for once!” Jungkook cries, “Think of yourself, damn it!”

“I can’t, Jungkook.” Hoseok smiles, but there’s a sadness to it that Jungkook has never seen before, “Even…even if he hates me, I’ll never be able to hate him. He’s our Father, after all.”

Jungkook stares at the brunette in shock, before pursing his lips, and turning tail.

“I’m going to set your life back on track, hyung, if it’s the last thing I do.” He vows, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I doubt there’s anything you can do about that.” Hoseok chuckles lowly, tears finally springing forth, as he looks outside his window, “My life went wrong a long time ago.”

It’s been a long day at work, for you. With your boss yelling and literally hammering away at you, it’s actually surprising that you haven’t returned home in a terrible mood except—wait, you have. The day, so far, has been going terribly, and it all gets worse when you see a stranger sitting on your couch by the time you walk in. He looks terribly polished, with a crisp black suit on, and dark hair slicked back neatly.

Of course, your first reaction is to panic and scream, before chucking the nearest thing at him—which happens to be a fat Charles Dickens collection that you’ve never actually read before—never pausing to even think.

Eventually though, you get tired of throwing things, though you’re sure that the stranger is tired of dodging them as well, and huff lightly, before clearing your throat to get his attention.

“Considering you haven’t already killed me,” You say as casually as you can, “I assume you’re not a serial killer. So, answer this: who are you, how did you get in, and why the actual fuck are you here?”

“Are you done throwing things at me?” He asks tiredly, and at your reluctant nod, slumps over on your now-ruined couch, “Thank you.”

He shifts uncomfortably, as you take a seat from across him.

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard of me, but,” He takes in a deep breath, “My name’s Jung Jungkook. I’m—”

“Hoseok��s brother!” You blurt out with wide eyes, heart hammering against your chest, “If you came here to sue me, I would first like to say—”

“Relax, I’m not even into law. I’m in charge of Marketing.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, before muttering to himself, “How does hyung even like her, ugh.”

“Excuse me?” Your face scrunches in annoyance, “Look here, you little worm—”

“Anyway,” Jungkook continues speaking, running a hand through his dark hair like you haven’t just spoken, “You did something to make Hobi hyung weird, so you need to fix him.”

You stare at him. Is this guy for real?

“You want me to…” Your eye twitches, “You want me to ‘fix’ Hoseok?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” He hums confidently, “Look, Hoseok hyung’s been sad ever since I heard he met you, so obviously it’s something serious he’s got going with you.”

“Wait, since you heard?” You ask, before narrowing your eyes, “Does Hoseok even know you’re here?”

Jungkook’s guilty flush gives him away, and you sigh in exasperation.

“Look man, it’s nice of you to care for your brother so much, but Hoseok probably doesn’t even want to look at me right now.” You mutter to yourself, “Not that I can blame him.”

“Hoseok doesn’t know what he wants.” Jungkook states plainly, “He used to hold our Father in high regard, and did anything he asked, but we finally got him out of it. I don’t know what you’ve done to make him revert back to that, so fix it.”

“He’s not a fucking toy, Jungkook!” You yell, startling him, “He can’t be fixed! He needs to make his own decisions!”

“Please,” Jungkook speaks softly, making your eyes widen at how sad he sounds, “Please, just…meet him?”

You eye him skeptically, “Does your brother know about this?”

“And I’m not talking about Hoseok.” You add, when Jungkook opens his mouth, “Does Yoongi know you’re here?”

“…No.” Jungkook admits, making you sigh in frustration, “Yoongi hyung cares about Hoseok hyung a lot, but he doesn’t…he doesn’t understand hyung’s feelings very well.”

“Well, if Yoongi isn’t okay with this, I don’t see how it could work.” You sigh, before something strikes you, “And how did you find me, anyway?”

“I…did some things.” Jungkook’s mouth twitches upwards, and you decide it’s best if you don’t know.

You think about what he’s saying, before slumping over in defeat. You do miss Hoseok, and…and you need to apologize properly, at the very least.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask tiredly, “I want to help, but…I don’t know how.”

“Just leave it to me.” Jungkook smiles wickedly, and your gut sinks, along with any shred of hope you might’ve had.

“Jungkook, this is a bad idea.” You whisper to him, as he pushes you into a café he has designated to be an acceptable meeting point, “This is…this is a really, really bad idea.”

“Shut up and get in, Y/N,” He hisses, shoving you harder, “It’s almost time for Hobi hyung to come, so you’d best be inside before then.”

You let him push you in defeat, and sadly walk to the counter, where an entirely-too-cheerful barista greets you with a beam. You order your default drink, before making your way to a free seat, near one of the windows.

Jungkook’s plan…isn’t even a plan, really. What he told you over the phone yesterday, was that he would send you to a café, and ask Hobi to meet him there. Except, Jungkook wouldn’t be there at all, it’d be you instead.

Which is why it’s a terrible idea, of course, and you can’t help but wonder how this guy is in charge of marketing.

You take a sip of your drink awkwardly, before glancing over at your watch. It’s a quarter to five. Hoseok should be here, by now.

Almost on cue, the door chimes gently, signaling the arrival of another customer. There aren’t that many people in the café, so avoiding him is going to be near impossible anyway. You chance a glance over your shoulder, seeing, in a mix of happiness and anxiety, the brunette that you’ve been dying to meet. He doesn’t look over at you, though, instead craning his head to look for Jungkook, undoubtedly.

When he turns towards you, though, he freezes, eyes wide and disbelieving. You smile sadly at him, holding up his coffee in a greeting. When he reaches you, he takes the cup with trembling hands.

“We need to talk.” You say simply, and he looks at you inscrutably.

“Not here.” He says finally, “I’ve got a place in mind.”

You nod.

The ‘place in mind’ ends up being a penthouse suit.

“Holy shit.” You breathe, as you travel upward in a glass elevator, “Holy shit, you’re loaded.”

“Yes, well,” He says tightly, uncomfortably, and there’s something so wrong about the way he’s cutting himself off, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

You recoil at the sharp jab, before sighing.

“Look, Hoseok, I wanted to apologize—”

“Not here.” He cuts in, looking straight ahead, but not at you, never at you, “Not now.”

You stay silent the entire way there, and only speak up when you’re inside his room.

“I know I owe you an explanation for what happened at the party.” You say, biting your lip anxiously, as Hoseok takes a seat, rushing to do so when he gestures at you.

“Yes, you do.” He stares hard at you, and you can’t help but wonder what happened to the softer lines of his face, the gentleness in his eyes that had made you get attracted to him so quickly.

But you take a deep breath, and begin telling him everything.

By the end of it, Hoseok is staring at you, teary eyes matching your own.

“So this entire time,” He starts, in a cracked whisper, “This entire time I could have been with you, but wasn’t because of a misunderstanding?”

He shakes his head, whimpering, “I’m sorry.”

“No.” You refute firmly, unable to believe he’s actually blaming himself, “Hoseok, it’s not your fault. It was still wrong of me to have done that.”

“Even after I pushed you away, though,” He looks at you sadly, “Even after I hurt you, you left my privacy intact. Even after…”

His voice breaks, and you’re by his side in an instant, wiping the tear trails from his cool cheeks.

“Can I…” You whisper, just as he wonders, “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

You look at each other for a moment, before giggling slightly, even through your tears, and leaning forward, lips meeting halfway.

You originally were going to keep it safe, to a bare minimum, but with the softness of Hoseok’s lips on your own again, surge forward, nipping at his lips. He coaxes your own open, and you willingly part them for him, sighing as he explores as much of your mouth as he can, and do the same in return.

“I missed you.” Hoseok confesses, once you’ve separated for air, “So, so, much. Could I…?”

He pauses, looking you in the eye, “Could I show you just how much?”

And you’re no idiot, you weren’t born yesterday; you know what he means. You nod lightly, body still trembling from your tears, and squeak lightly when he picks you up bridal style, carrying you to his bedroom with gusto.

“Hoseok!” You whine, as he sets you down on the bed gently, “Warn a girl next time, would you?”

“Next time?” He grins at you and your breath freezes in your lungs because, even with his red-rimmed eyes, he looks beautiful, “I’ll take you up on that, princess.”

“We’ll see.” You huff, cheeks coloring, “But I thought you were supposed to be showing me something…?”

His eyes darken, and he pins your unsuspecting body down onto the bed, caging you with his body. You gasp in surprise when he lowers his mouth to suck harshly at the juncture between your neck and shoulders, body tensing up and arching under his careful bites.

“I didn’t get to fuck you last time, since you were so drunk.” He whispers to you, in the dim light, “But since you’re sober now, I think it’d be okay.”

Looking into his eyes you realize, with a jolt, that he’s silently asking for permission. Is this okay?

You grin at him with whatever confidence you’ve got left, and teasingly stretch your neck.

“I guess I’ll have to wait and see if you can make it worth my while.” You wink obnoxiously, making him flick you lightly, “Ow!”

“Stop ruining the mood.” He grumps, before losing the façade and smiling, “Okay, that was cute.”

You sit up, tired of how much he’s delaying the process. You quickly shimmy out of your pants, and slip off your shirt, leaving you only in your mismatched panties and bra. You would feel more embarrassed, though, if Hoseok weren’t staring at you with open-mouthed awe.

Your cheeks flush. He’s staring at you, with that love-struck expression. You.

“Well?” You ask playfully, raising an eyebrow at the brunette, “Are you going to fuck me, or am I going to have to come over there and do it myself?”

“You’re so beautiful.” He blurts out, making you freeze, blush covering your cheeks.

“Uh, thanks.” You mumble awkwardly, making him smile in amusement.

“Aw, are you shy now?” He teases you, grasping your chin with his fingers, and angling your face towards him, “What happened to fucking me?”

“Shut up.” You mutter embarrassedly, “I don’t like you.”

“Aw, princess, don’t be like that.” Hoseok hums, tugging you onto his lap, so that you can feel the bulge hidden under his trousers against the curve of your ass, “You said you were sorry, weren’t you?”

“Then,” His voice lowers, as he slips the strap of your bra off one shoulder, leaving the other one still on, “Why don’t you show me just how much?”

It’s hard to think with his cock pressing into you like that, his slender fingers pinching and rubbing at your stiffened nub. You can’t keep your head up, as he teases your nipple with his practiced digits, slumping against his shoulder.

“W-What would you have me do?” You ask submissively, panties growing steadily damp.

“For starters,” He hums, sucking a hard mark into your collar bone, “Why don’t you admit how much of a slut you are for my cock? I can feel you leaking here, princess.”

He presses his fingers against the damp spot on your underwear, making your cheeks flush brighter.

“H-Hoseok, I—”

“Yes?” He prompts you patiently, fingers never moving an inch, “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

“Yes, I…” You tilt your head to meet his eyes, “I want you to f-fuck me Hoseok.”

The words make your cheeks burn, but Hoseok is unmoved, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And?”

“And,” You swallow heavily, eyes stinging, “I-I’m a slut for your cock.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that.” Hoseok tuts, “I’m disappointed. And you know you’re not going to get what you want until I’m satisfied.”

You sigh in annoyance, giving up.

“Okay, Hoseok.” You say aggravatedly, “I want your big, fucking cock inside me now, or else I’ll actually go crazy from it! I’m your fucking slut, so just fuck me already!”

He stares at you for a beat, frozen in surprise, before he grins and slips his hand into your underwear, brushing against your dripping core gently.

“Why don’t we get this out of the way, hm?” He doesn’t say it in askance, and tugs at it until it’s slipped off your legs, “There you go.”

He makes you lie down, head on a pillow, and spreads your leg as his eyes your slit hungrily.

“I want to be able to see your slutty little pussy,” He informs you coolly, dragging a finger along your folds and holding it up, so that you can see it glisten in the light, “Look how wet you are.”

“I’ll bet you’ve been waiting for this ever since we saw each other.” He smirks, before latching onto your core with his mouth and oh, god, the wet heat feels so good.

“H-Hobi!” You moan, hands fisting the sheets as you struggle to stay coherent; Hoseok’s tongue is delving inside you, getting deeper and deeper, and please, please, please.

You gasp, and arch your back when a finger slips in alongside his tongue, and shiver as he continues to eat you out and pleasure you at once.

When you finally, finally, feel like you’re going to cum, Hoseok stops, making you whine in loss.

“Hobi, please!” You cry in dismay, as he lies on top of you, the rough fabric of his clothes dragging against your sensitive skin, “I was going to cum!”

“Not just yet, princess.” He chuckles, making something stir inside you, “Spread your legs for me, babe. I want you to cum on my cock, like the slutty little bitch you are.”

Your mouth dries, but you do as he asks, spreading your legs as far as they’ll go. Your cheeks burn at how lewd you might look, with your hair a mess, bra half undone, and dripping pussy entirely exposed.

“Stay like that for me, sweetheart.” He tells you, and you want to protest, want to say hell no, but something in you makes you stay silent, makes you want to please him.

He shrugs off his suit jacket, undoing his belt and trousers; his shirt is soon unbuttoned and thrown away carelessly, and his boxers are shucked off. You were too drunk to see it last time, but holy hell is he hung.

Your mouth waters for reasons unknown, and your face heats up in shame.

“You look like you have something to say.” Hoseok observes, climbing onto the bed, “What is it?”

You debate internally over whether you should tell him or not but, eventually, the stupid side of you wins out.

“H-Hoseok…” You stutter out, “C-Can I…can I suck you, please?”

His hazel brown eyes widen in shock, before he smirks at you, patting his thigh in invitation.

“You really are a cockslut, aren’t you?” He says affectionately, making you kneel on the soft carpet, facing his throbbing member, “So eager.”

You cast your eyes away in embarrassment, only to cry out in shock when he tugs at your hair.

“Well?” He asks, pulling you forward, so that you’re at eye-level with his shaft, “Get to it, then.”

You quickly engulf his cock in your mouth, making him groan in pleasure. Hollowing your cheeks around it, you begin to bob your head up and down, only to gag when he loses his patience and thrusts in deeply. Tears spring into your eyes at the rough treatment, though you make no move to stop him; there’s something about how he manhandles you, moves you around at his own will, that makes your heat positively ache.

It’s as though Hoseok knows exactly what you’re thinking, because he bends forward, cock curling deliciously in your mouth.

“The best part about this,” He whispers to you, and the words send a jolt down your spine, “Is how you won’t even deny it.”

He cums down your throat then, your only warning being a slightly harsher tug to your hair that leaves you unprepared; and you choke uselessly around his length, trying to swallow it down. Some of it drips out your mouth, off your cheek, and when you look at Hoseok with wide teary eyes, he swears, pulling your mouth off his cock.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He repeats for the billionth time, though you don’t have the strength in you to blush, at this point, “Beautiful, and all mine.”

He wipes the cum off your chin with a careful finger, and your mouth parts obediently for him when he presses it against your lips. You quietly suck at the digit, eyes drooping and throat scratchy; but you can’t fall asleep, not when your core still throbs with want.

“And you’re all mine?” You don’t mean to phrase it like a question, but it comes out that way; Hoseok’s hazel eyes connect with yours, before they soften.

“And I’m all yours.” He confirms, before lying you down on the pillow, hitching a leg on his shoulder as he kneels before your parted thighs, “I’ll remind you of that every day. But first, I have a promise to keep.”

You feel twice as exposed now, as Hoseok carefully peels apart your outer lips with his fingers, blowing out a puff of hot air against your clenching hole. There’s only silence, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, until something so warm and so wet latches to your exposed hole.

You cry out in pleasure, as Hoseok nibbles at your clit, before it turns into a shuddering moan at the swipe of his tongue against your entrance.

“H-Hoseok,” You manage to rasp out shakily, “N-Need it deeper—”

You don’t even need to complete the sentence, as his tongue suddenly delves inside you, searching deep. You breathe shakily, chest heaving, as Hoseok slowly takes you apart, layer by crumbling layer. And then comes the torrent of the rush; something euphoric just biding its time by the edge.

“I’m…” You find yourself choking out, hands finding their way to Hoseok’s hair, “Gonna come…!”

Of course, he decides to move away right then, right when you’re about to cum, but he only smiles teasingly at your frown.

“I’ll give you what you want soon,” He promises, hand coming to stroke at his length, “But I want you to cum on my cock.”

When he pats his lap, eyebrow raised, you understand what he wants. And, damn it, you want to come—no, need to—so you do what he wants, crawling over to him and settling on his lap. The tip of his length presses against your eagerly awaiting hole, but goes no further.

“Are you on the pill?” The question totally ruins the mood, but you understand why he’s asked.

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes in impatience, even through your understanding, “Now please just fuck me already.”

“Your wish is my command.” He grins charmingly, and you want to scoff, but can only gasp as the head of his cock finally slips inside, as he buries himself, inch by inch, into your hole.

“This pussy can’t get enough of me.” He murmurs observationally, making you flush, “See how it’s twitching around my cock?”

He looks up at you then, eyes dark, “It means it needs more, doesn’t it?”

You can only nod breathlessly, as he guides your hips up, and lets you slam back down. You throw your head back in pleasure, as white spots dance behind your shut eyelids. Hoseok manages to find the right spot, again and again and again, thrusting deep into you, while controlling the movement of your hips against his.

He whispers how much he’s missed you, how much he’s missed this pussy, how much he loves it. Loves you.

Tears trail from your eyes as he rubs at your clit with a thumb, and you’re unable to stop yourself from slumping forward, semi-nude chest brushing against his. He notices too, finger lifting from your twitching button to completely undo your bra, flinging it off to the side.

“Close to cumming?” He asks you huskily, and you give a shaky nod, too scared to speak, “It’s alright if you moan, sweetheart; no one can hear you here.”

His voice drops, as he continues, “I can fuck you anywhere I want. In the kitchen, on the couch, over the table, against the wall…and you’ll take it all gladly, won’t you; be a good little slut, ready for me?”

“Y-Yes!” You cry out, as he tugs your hair in warning, eyes watering, “Yes, I’ll let you fuck me wherever you want! I’m yours!”

And that’s when the relief courses through you, pleasure crashing through you in a massive wave; your back arches, body only kept in place by Hoseok’s grip, and you slump against him as a liquid drips tantalizingly down your thighs, staining Hoseok’s. Your cheeks turn red, as you realize you’ve done something weird; oh gosh, did you pee on him?

“Wow.” He breathes, though his thrusts don’t cease, don’t even stutter, as you flush in shame, “I didn’t think you’d be a squirter.”

“A…A…” You know what he means, but you never thought you could do it; you can’t focus on that though, not when Hoseok’s melding your lips together, coaxing little mewls out of your puffy lips.

“It’s perfect.” He stares at you, as he pushes you onto the bed, sending you sprawling, before he corrects himself, “You’re perfect.”

Tears spring into your eyes, as you pull Hoseok closer to you, legs trembling and twitching from the overstimulation. He looks at you, with his soft eyes and soft mouth and soft smile, as he nips gently at your ear; it’s a soft moment, with soft messages and soft assurances.

But when Hoseok’s eyes grow wide, and his breath catches in his throat, you know he’s going to cum.

“Cum i-inside me,” You tell him softly, smiling weakly at his surprised features, “It’s okay.”

So he nods, lets himself go as he unravels before your awed eyes, shoulder slumping forward and hips quivering against yours. You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes you at the rush of hot cum that shoots inside you, coating your velvety walls a stark white.

You’re surprised though, when Hoseok doesn’t pull out from you and instead rolls you over, so that you’re settled against his chest, soft cock probing deeper into you. He doesn’t move again, though, just cards his hand through your damp hair, as he breathes in deeply.

You end up breaking the silence.

“I hope you know,” You rasp out quietly, eyes meeting Hoseok’s, “That we still need to talk.”

You end up talking after a short nap. And, by short nap, you mean, of course, 2 hours later.

“So…where does…all this leave us?” You ask, gesticulating helplessly. Your stomach is churning, either from nervousness or hunger. Maybe even both.

“I…” Hoseok pauses, before tapping his thumbs anxiously against the armrest of his couch, “This isn’t exactly how I expected anything to go, but… I’d like to get to know you better.”

He raises his head to look you in the eye, and as you scan his open face for any kind of deceit, you find none: only honesty and earnest.

“You…want to know me better?” You raise an eyebrow, awkwardly, and at his nod, do the one thing you’ve always done in situations like this, “You mean fucking me wasn’t enough?”

The look on his face when you say that is priceless. Brilliant, even. You mentally pat yourself on the back as he splutters and chokes, face beet-red, wondering if you should possibly help him, but ultimately deciding this is too funny to pass up.

“What’s wrong?” You ask innocently, “We’ve done it twice, Hoseok; surely, you should be used to this?”

“It’s…” He makes some vague motions in the air that you pretend to understand, before he huffs resignedly, “I want to know you. Like, your personality.”

He glares slightly at your smirk, “Apart from the fact that you enjoy making me choke.”

The connotation registers in both of your heads at the same time, and you share equally troubled looks.

“Uh…” He says, floundering for words, but is saved by the timely arrival of a loud grumble.

From your stomach.

It’s your turn to flush in embarrassment as he cracks a sympathetic smile.

“Rough day?” He asks in fake compassion, dimples showing, “I totally get it.”

“I hate you.” Your voice is small, but the words hold no venom, “So, so much.”

“C’mon.” He gets up, laughing quietly to himself, “Let’s get something to eat.”

“Alright.” You say all of a sudden, no doubt confusing the brunette across you, “Let’s do it.”

If there were any doubt in your mind that Hoseok’s now very befuddled, it’s confirmed at the sight of his blank face.

“Do…what, exactly?” He takes another lick from his ice cream cone—coffee, ugh—as he stares at you curiously.

You roll your eyes at the need to explain it to him.

“We can try this…’getting to know each other thing.’” You emphasize, using air quotes and everything, “Is that better?”

“Really?” Even your slight irritation dissolves at the sight of Hoseok’s gleeful expression, as he grasps your free hands, “Oh my god, thank you for giving this a chance.”

“Of course.” Your eyes glint mischievously, though Hoseok misses that, “I’ll need to ask you for a favor though.”

“Yes, of course!” He agrees quickly, eyes wide and concerned, “Anything!”

“Anything?” You smirk at his paling face, before pointing to your right, at the counter, “Buy me some more ice cream.”

He stares at you, before his eyes crinkle and he bursts out laughing. It’s a chain reaction, like the two of you are linked, because you start to giggle to yourself too.

Eventually though, Hoseok does get you another scoop of your favorite ice cream. And it wouldn’t be the last time, either.

“I think you’re the first person I’ve ever dated.” Hoseok confesses to you one evening, as the two of you sit atop a grassy hill overlooking the suburbs.

“You think?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“W-Well,” He stutters, not expecting that, before shrugging, “I only ever technically dated one person before…but it was because my Dad asked, for business and stuff.”

“Wow.” You breathe out. You want to ask him more questions about it, but the uncomfortable line of his mouth, and the tenseness of his shoulders, tells you enough for you to know that you shouldn’t probe. He doesn’t need to tell you, not yet.

“Well.” You add quickly, seeing his disheartened look, and catch his hands with yours, giving him a brilliant smile, “I’m honored to be your first, my prince.”

His expression immediately clears up, brightening perceptibly, “Why, thank you, my princess.”

He pulls you into his lap so that you can enjoy the steady thump of his heart under your ear, and feel his warmth. He also does that, to convince himself you’re real, the only unknown variable in his life of constants.

But it’s also to make sure he never forgets you.

“Y/N.” Hoseok asks, eyes wide and hopeful, as the two of you are cuddled close at night, watching movies together, “I’ve got this movie premier to attend, and I’m allowed to bring a plus-one…”

He trails off, letting you fit in the missing pieces yourself, and when you finally wrap your head around it, a smile threatens to split your face in two.

“No way!” You gasp to yourself, lips stretched wide, “Are you asking me to be your plus-one, my prince?”

“Well, I’d always like you to be mine.” Hoseok laughs. Slips his fingers through yours. “But yes, my princess, I am.”

“Then, how could I ever say no?” You beam sweetly at him, catching his lips to yours in happiness. But the kiss soon turns heated, and he pushes you down and takes you right there, on the couch, as Bad Moms plays in the background. Makes sure you never forget the taste of his lips against yours, the imprint of his fingers burning through your skin in a pleasant haze.

Needless to say, Jimin is horrified when he comes home to find you two spooning on your couch together. Naked.

“Please.” Jimin pleads the two of you, when you finally get dressed and sit a suitable distance apart with matching faces of shame, “Please don’t ever come to my house again.”

“Uh,” You croak hesitantly, drawing into yourself when you see his crazed eyes turn to you, “Th-this is m-my house, though?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Jimin interrupts, deadly calm, “That I adopted you because you can’t look after yourself like a normal human being—” He voices over your protest, “So, this is very much my house too, thanks.”

You shut your mouth, knowing when you’re dealing with a lost case, and instead look at Hoseok with apologetic eyes. He, luckily, seems to understand, because he grimaces back at you in a failed attempt at assurance.

“And please, for the love of god!” Jimin snaps, making the two of you snap your attentions back to him, “Stop making those ridiculous faces at each other! Hoseok, I’m sorry, but you need to leave.”

And so, Park Jimin kicked out the Director of HR of Jung & Co. from your apartment.

Of course, it can’t always be sunshine and daisies. There has to be a raincloud in there somewhere, lurking and waiting for an opportune moment. A partner of Fate. Works with it, hand in hand, to get back at you with a vengeance.

And it all starts on one of your dates.

“So, what are we gonna do here?” You crack out a yawn, eyes drooping as Hoseok leads you into his apartment; a different one from last time, his actual staying quarters, “Movies, again?”

“I was going to order for you, and stuff.” Hoseok nods in agreement, settling on the couch, and holding out his arms for you to cuddle into, “But it looks like you’re tired?”

“Take out sounds great.” You mumble tiredly into his chest, relaxing as he wraps his arms around you, “Just a bit too sleepy for your romance flicks.”

“Hey!” Hoseok’s chest rumbles as he speaks in mock affront, “Excuse you, I don’t watch romance! I…don’t really like horror, or action, or suspense, but…”

He pouts sadly as you giggle up at him, and you can hardly resist pecking his perfect lips sweetly.

“Alright, my prince.” You roll your eyes, even as you let loose a tiny grin, “Whatever you say.”

“I resent that.” He says, honestly, before asking, “So, what would you like? French? Turkish? Greek?”

You can’t help the tiny twitch of your eyebrow at the growing list of unacceptable options, and you finally snap.

“Jung Hoseok.” He immediately stops speaking at the sound of your menacing voice, “I want. Takeout.”

“Yes, but—”

“Jesus, just get me Chinese! No exotic cuisine!”

“But I want it to taste—”

“Jung Hoseok, don’t you dare complete that sentence, Chinese tastes brilliant—”

The two of you don’t notice the slight creak of the door, till a new voice breaks in.

“…Am I interrupting something?”

The both of you freeze in horror, the voice ringing in your ears awfully familiar. You see Hoseok pale, even in the dim lighting, and you can completely understand why.

“Yoongi.” He murmurs shakily, and you quickly gather your wits about yourself, sliding quickly off his lap to face the eldest of the brothers, “You’re here?”

You’re sure Hoseok doesn’t mean it as a question, but it might have slipped out like that anyway. You cautiously eye Yoongi, expecting to see a hard rage in his eyes, or an extreme chilliness, like the last few times you’ve met him.

What you don’t expect is a soft, yet sad smile.

“Yeah.” He answers Hoseok’s question-statement, flicking on the light switches, “And chill, Y/N, I know you two are dating.”

He rolls his eyes, muttering something to himself that sounds suspiciously like, “Not that this could show me otherwise.”

Your cheeks flush at the fact that Yoongi just saw you straddling his brother’s lap. In the middle of an argument. About what food to order. Christ, like it isn’t getting any more domestic.

“You knew?” You can’t help but blurt out anyway and, at your side, Hoseok looks near hysterical in his agreement, “How?”

Yoongi pulls at the sleeves of his shirt, under his blazer, as he gives the two of you a private grin, one that neither of you are expecting. But Hoseok seems to understand.

“Jungkook told you, didn’t he?” His voice is flat and disbelieving.

Yoongi chuckles (chuckles!!) at his deadpan, and shakes his head.

“He didn’t need to.” He elaborates in a drawl, at your confused faces, “He asked me why you were so upset, after the Gala.”

“Oh.” Hoseok sounds quiet, and you hate it, taking his hand and squeezing it lightly. The two of you have had to work so hard for this relationship, and you’ll be damned if you let a smirking millionare take everything away from you.

“So?” You ask defiantly, facing him head on even as you inwardly quake in terror, “Are you going to tell us to break up or what?”

That sends alarm bells ringing in Hoseok’s head, and he nearly leaps up, eyes wide.

“Hyung—!” His voice cracks.

“Don’t worry.” Yoongi shakes his head with a long-suffering sigh, “Even though I don’t approve of her, I guess…I’ll approve of this relationship. She makes you happy Hobi, I’d have to be an idiot not to see that.”

Your heart stops at the slight grin he sports on his lips, the warmth of his eyes when he looks at the brunette sitting next to you.

“Even if I don’t always show it,” Yoongi murmurs, “I only want what’s best for you. And if that’s what she is, then so be it. But…”

“But…?” The look on Hoseok’s face screams of anxiety, and a little bit of fear, “But what?”

“I’m not the only one who knows.”

At Yoongi’s next words, you’re sure your expression must match Hoseok’s, and your heart hammers against your chest.

“Father knows too, and…he wants to meet Y/N.”

Written By: Midnight^^

Next Part: 03

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childrencryinncoffee-blog · 7 years

Text

When Baby is Akin to Sin…We’re Not Educated in Responding to This

“Motherhood is quite beautiful, but the beautiful quiet in motherhood is where the pain tests you the most.”

I wrote this this morning, as a status on my blog’s Facebook page.

I’ve never had such a beautiful sentence makes such sense for me. I get surprised by my mind sometimes, when throughout all the chaos and racing thoughts, a profound thought just hits me, stops me and I thoroughly feel it throughout my whole body.

I’ve been thinking about my pregnancy, labour and delivery with Ivy a lot lately. She’s nearly 3 months old and I still haven’t done anything about my trauma I experienced. This pregnancy was far from easy. It was a shock and surprise pregnancy. It was a result of both failed birth control (once again) and a failed Plan B over-the-counter medication. I was 31, already a mother to 4 kids, struggling to find my footing, having my most recent baby nearly 4 years before. And yet, I fully accepted the double blue lines on the test when I look at the stick 3 minutes after pissing on it.

I found out early, as I am very attuned to my body; I have to be, as birth control failure was the result of all my other children. My oldest was the failure of the Low-Dose Pill I was put on for hormone regulation thanks to Endometriosis. My second child was the result of a failed Depo-shot therapy. My third child was with the NuVa Ring. My 4th child was with the Mirena IUD, not even 7 months after insertion. This is why I was, and am, still adamant to having (at least) a partial Hysterectomy. Besides the Endo, the PCOS and the Fibroids that make my months and periods a living hell. I’m the lucky one who bleeds through both a Super+ sized tampon AND an overnight sized pad in less than 2 hours, sometimes less than an hour. I’ve learned to NEVER have any light colored pants, let alone white panties.

I was not in a good place, both figuratively and literally, when I found out I was expecting number 5. My excitement of having a new baby quickly wore off when I realized just how shitty our situation was. We live in a 4 bedroom rental, with a shit-head as a “landlord”. It’s me, my husband, our 4 kids and at the time; my little sister, her two daughters, my mother and little brother all living with us–on Derrick’s paycheck. And even though, at the time, Derrick was bringing in around $1000-$1200 per week, we were struggling and now we were adding another little person to the party. I began to rapid cycle, and I’m not normally a rapid-cycler, but my hormones were so out of whack, I couldn’t keep up mentally.

I don’t know what’s worse; actually physically throwing up with morning sickness during the first trimester early on, OR always on the verge of throwing up and gagging at EVERYTHING. I know what was worse–the fact that smoking a cigarette was the only thing that stopped the nausea. Mind you, this nausea and smoking was BEFORE I took the test and I assumed I just ate something bad, so I continued smoking–until I took the test and then, I’ll be honest, that morning, after I took the test and it was positive, Derrick was at work and I didn’t tell anyone and I continued to smoke the rest of that day. Part of me registered there was a baby in there, but another part of me didn’t want to believe it and the smoking kept the vomit at bay, for at least a little while.

By September, I was such a psychotic, hormonal, raving bitch, that I chased EVERYONE away. My sister and her kids went back to her husband and son in Las Vegas, my brother found an apartment, and my mother and her boyfriend moved in with my grandparents. But then it was just me. Pregnant, sad, lonely AF, angry me, with 4 kids and a husband who worked 6, sometimes 7 days a week, just so we could stay afloat.

I was angry. I was lonely. I was sad. I was a wreck. I was suicidal.

I had no support.

At least I thought I had no support. I never reached out to my mom because our relationship had been turbulent the last month or so she was at my house. I was pissed off at my little sister, because she moved out and left us with a $660 electric bill and hasn’t sent back one red cent to pay us back for living here, rent free, eating, using our wifi and electricity, Netflix account, Hulu account and flat screens, hulling up on our couch for months. It even caused a huge rift between me and Derrick, exacerbating my depression, when he’d throw it in my face, that’d we would have already been in a much better place for this baby, had I NOT been the one to “take in all the strays” of the family and offer OUR roof over their heads. And now, now I get his frustration.

During the lowest part of my Antepartum Depression I wrote a suicide note…an email…to Derrick while he was at work.

Probably not the smartest thing to do when your husband is hundreds of miles away, navigating a huge truck on the hellish Los Angeles freeways.

I was at a breaking point. Seriously, no one can TRULY understand just how lonely depression can make you, unless you’ve lived it. I saw no point in living. I wasn’t getting along with my mom, my sister, my brothers didn’t understand so they kept their distance and that distance was FELT and it hurt, my kids were constantly fighting, arguing and not listening to me, my grandparents are from another generation so they didn’t comprehend boundaries and depression so they were no help. I had (have) no friends. And I completely stopped going to therapy, group and visiting my Psychiatrist. I gave up.

I found my (original) OB/GYN August 1 and had my first visit on August 10th. I chose him because my sister-in-law was pregnant too and he was her doctor and I went to her first appointment with her and I liked him (and the female doctor with him, and here I thought I’d be getting them as a team too. Boy was I wrong). My first appointment was just quick formalities and Derrick was there. Blood pressure reading, weight, height, blood work and numerous forms to fill out about me and my previous pregnancies, miscarriages, deliveries, etc. I was automatically deemed “high risk” and was sent to a second doctor because I was an “older” mother with numerous health issues; overweight, hypertension, fibroids, Endo, PCOS, progesterone allergy, asthma…and mental health “issues”. Not to mention Derrick’s heart condition and family history of cancer.

I saw this OB a total of 3 times. The first meeting mentioned above. A second appointment in September to go over everything from August. And one more time in early October, where I poured my heart out to him, expressing my concern and worry about my depression; how I’d become recluse and stopped therapy, group and seeing my psychiatrist BUT I was STILL continuing my Latuda, secretly praying this would help with my depression. But my OB demanded, to Derrick (he didn’t even acknowledge me laying on the examination bed, tears streaming) that I stop my psychiatric medications because I wasn’t “depressed” I was just “sad” and I didn’t need medications for that. He told Derrick that I was “choosing” to be sad and that if I chose to be happy, I’d be happy.

I was in utter disbelief and my depression hit tenfold what it was before.

I cancelled my 26th week appointment with him.

The nurses called numerous times and left voicemails demanding I call and reschedule immediately or he’d give my place to another mother.

I laid in bed, crying, listening to the voicemails, not ready to reschedule yet, deleting the voicemails, turning over and crying myself to sleep. Over and over again, for days.

My 28th week I received a certified letter in the mail, from my OB. He had dropped me as a patient.

I spent my 28th and 29th week in bed.

Around the end of my 29th week, I fell. I ended up in the hospital. I told the head nurse, who, luckily, was MY nurse, that I didn’t have an OB and she took time out of her busy schedule to hand-write a list of high-risk OB’s from here to Corona to Hemet to San Bernardino, who took my insurance and I cried happy tears when I hugged her and thanked her for looking out for me.

I spent the following Monday calling every name on that list. No takers. I called my insurance company and asked them for a list. I called everyone on their list. No takers. I Googled every OB and called EVERY single OB within 25 miles in each direction; in ALL counties within the Inland Empire. And still, not one taker.

No one wanted me as a patient, who was an “older” patient, at 30 weeks already AND high-risk. I was too much of a liability.

My depression kicked my ass even harder and this time, I had guilt added to it because I blamed myself for my original OB dropping me as a patient, because, maybe, maybe he was right. Maybe I was CHOOSING to be depressed. And now, here I was 33 weeks along with a baby and I had no idea what was happening with her. That was the only solace I had to hold on to–I found out around 30 weeks she was a she, because I had to pay out of pocket, to go to one of those 4D Ultrasound techs, because I HAD to make sure she was still alive. Mind you, I couldn’t careless if I died, but I wanted to make sure the baby was okay.

And when I had that ultrasound done, even though it wasn’t a medical one, I was ECSTATIC when I saw her up on that projector screen; all her fingers, all her toes, long limbs, fully developed lungs and a hummingbird heart that was fluttering about. I had something to hold on to. I wasn’t just getting fat and throwing up for the hell of it, there was a little person in there.

Early March I slipped and fell again, landing on the side of my belly and really hurting my wrist and knee. I went back to the hospital and that’s where I met my attending OB. She ordered ALL the tests I missed during my pregnancy and I had ultrasounds and everything and she sat there and listened to my cries and how I lost my original OB and she patted my hand and said those magical words: “You’re my patient now.”

I was (what I assumed to be) 36, nearly 37 weeks when I walked into her office for my first appointment. I didn’t even last 5 minutes. She told me that I needed to head to the hospital; my liver was failing to sustain me and the baby because my blood pressure was way too high and I looked like hell.

I didn’t think I’d be having a baby, I thought I was only going to the hospital to be monitored, medicated and sent home on bed rest until her (what I assumed to be) EDD of April 5th, 2017.

Nope. I was stuck to a bed. I WAS medicated. With 6 different kinds of medication; to lower my blood pressure, to hydrate me, to replenish her amnio fluid, to thin my cervix and kick start labour. I was having a baby, that day, at 37 weeks. I freaked. I was stuck in bed for 3 days. I had a catheter, of which I HATE, and that totally played into my PTSD too because I do not like inanimate objects forced into my neither region, NOR do I like that un-numbed PAIN included–it’s fucking traumatic and I’m hella sensitive down there, after having my area burned with a cigarette when I was 9.

SO I was forced into labor early and I laboured for 3 whole days before I started pushing and it was just before my epidural, that my doctor informed me that I was truly more around 34 weeks and 5 or 6 days along in my pregnancy–so I began to freak the fuck out again.

Once my epidural kicked in, it kicked in a little too well and my stats nearly flat-lined. I remember becoming super lethargic, sleepy and weak. My blood pressure was what Derrick’s was when he was dying of kidney failure with the Rhabdomyolisis. My brain was freaking out, but my body was barely moving. My eyes were open and I was able to see everything happening. It went from me in the bed, Derrick to my right, the Anesthesiologist at the foot of my bed, and the nurse to my left overlooking my vitals…to the room becoming over-crowded with at least 6, 7, or 8 nurses, the Anesthesiologist, his supervisor, the hospital’s head officials and a couple other people who introduced themselves, but I was so out of it. The last thing I remember saying to Derrick before I blacked out was “I don’t wanna die.”

I woke up 3 hours later. My epidural had completely worn off and holy-fucking-hell did I FEEL everything. My body wasn’t ready. My brain wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. But they were making this baby come. I cervix was being checked, with the catheter still inside me, every 5 minutes and I was in PAIN. I was already freaking out with the trauma at this point, I couldn’t stop crying. And then my rapes (yes rapeS) came flooding back into my mind because THE sole male nurse just walked in and announced he was going to check my cervix for dilation and I FREAKED LOUDLY, but I couldn’t get it out, I couldn’t verbalize WHY I was freaking out, I felt 9 years old all over again. I couldn’t fight back. I just laid there, gripping painfully to the bed’s arm rests, sobbing and screaming “No, no no no no no no” over and over again, looking at Derrick to save me from this and I screamed when the man’s hands went inside me, but I couldn’t respond to Derrick when he asked me what was wrong.

How does one lay there, who’s body is TRYING it’s damnedest to birth a baby, while your brain is SCREAMING at you to make it stop, while visions of my rapists’ play through my mind over and over and over again; being pinned down, in pain, searing pain, while he forces his huge hands deep inside me and I can’t kick, I can’t fight, I have to literally lay there and take it because there’s a baby in the balance.

And it was so hard to bond with her once she came out, because this male nurse was still inside my delivery room and I’m sitting there, numb, but shaking and all I see and hear is Leon’s, Joey’s and Eli’s voices. All I FEEL is their hands on me. And I’m trying so hard to find the joy in the moment because my daughter was there, she was my reward for not giving up, when all I wanted to do was give up and I wasted my Golden Hour in the L&D room.

And my husband is gunna read this.

And he, even to this day, has no idea that this was the narrative that was playing in my head that day. The amount of panic attacks I was having wasn’t because I was birthing a child. It was because the whole time I was relating the pain and trauma to the trauma I experienced as a child and young teenager.

And it’s not like I look at Ivy and think about the trauma and rape every single time–but there are times, that my brain is a complete and utter asshole and says, Hey you know what, birthing Ivy was like being molested and raped, wasn’t it, and it fucks me over for the day and I have trouble holding onto her, feeding her, bonding with her and all I want to do is run away, drink or smoke an entire pack of cigarettes.

But how do I say this to my husband? “Here, take your daughter, she’s exacerbating my PTSD and if I don’t numb myself RIGHT NOW I’m gunna freak out and lord knows that outcome”?

We don’t talk about my triggers much, mostly because I feel they’re MY responsibility and that’s what I have a psychiatrist and therapist for. But there are times I wish I could articulate it in my brain, well enough, to articulate it to my husband, that when I need breaks of overwhelment from the baby, isn’t BECAUSE of the baby all the time, it’s because my brain is a motherfucker and I’m dying inside and I need a fucking minute.

I desperately NEED postpartum support, but I am SO scared of reaching out for it, because how do you open up to a group of strangers and equate your labour and delivery to molestation and rape?

So I sit here, nearly 13 weeks postpartum and I still haven’t found my footing. I don’t have a tribe. And I am medicated again, but probably not as medicated as I should be…but I am determined to breastfeed my daughter.

But at what cost to me?

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