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askkaimeilu · 1 year

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The origin of Junko or how Luka became an "Octo-mom"

WARNING! The following fic contains sensitive themes, if you have a tokophobia - I recommend you not to read. Thank you 💙❤️💖

The deep night. Luka was alone in her room, while Kaito and Meiko were busy in downhall. Pinkette rubbing her cumbersome belly, while sliding and bending her back as she faces the wall. Luka was breathing heavily, and some tear drops were falling from her eyes.

Luka: Junko, agh.. is really kicking up a fuss these days.. could it.. almost be the time? No, it can't be now; the birthing center is all booked up for the moment… I can't..

Meiko slips in, because she heard her love's grunts of pain and discomfort. She asked her:

Meiko: Hey baby, how's things? I heard you from downstairs.

She puts a warm, comforting hand on the pinkette's beach ball-like belly and gives it a reassuring rub.

Meiko: Luka...let us know, if you go into labour, we're here for you, and for now — I think you should have a little sleep.

She gets into bed with her to rest and places a hand on Luka again, easing the pinkette`s pain as they drift off to sleep for a while.

................

Several hours have passed. Megurine shot awake; pinkette felt that her belly was really kicky and firm; she squealed in discomfort at the shooting pain and a gushing feeling inside; her noise startled Meiko, but the brunette was calm.

Meiko: Darling, your water just broke; it really is time now, but don't be scared - I'll get Kaito.

Luka understood and didn't move from her bed; she sat there, conserving energy and taking deep breaths, as her belly started wriggling unpredictably; she tried to calm down her baby.

Luka: Oh-, ow, Juju, you're so impatient aren't y- you? Can't wait to meet your parents, huh?

......................................................................................

Meiko tried to get Kaito as fast as she could, so Luka wouldn't be alone in the room for a long time.

Meiko: K-Kai-kun, we need you right there, right now.

Kaito: Oh! Hi, Mei! What is it? Is something happened with Lu?

Kaito didn`t get to finish his sentences as he heard Luka's painful moans from upstairs. He was really shocked, and he could feel how his heart started beating really fast and could almost went out from the chest.

Meiko: Yeah, something happened - Luka is about to give a birth.. We need to hurry up, get ourselves together and not to go crazy.

Kaito: Oh.. Al-alright, Mei.. I will do my best to stay calm, in sake of our Lulu and JuJu...

Kaito and Meiko went upstairs together to the room, and noticed Octo mom-to-be, who was laying on the bed in the fetal position. Her eyes were wet and felt herself very horrible, but she greeted Kaito with weak smile*

Luka: KaiKai... it`s so nice to see you..Our..ah..our little one can`t wait to see you and Mei-chan..

Meiko: Oh dear, you look not well; I will go and get you some pain killers; Kaito will stay with you, and don't forget to take deep breaths, okay?

Luka: Ow-o-okay..

As Meiko went, Kaito took Luka by the armpits carefully, to get closer to himself. He began to caress her and started to talk to their unborn daughter.

Kaito: Shh… there, there.. JuJu. I know you can`t wait to see your beautiful mommy, but let her rest a bit.

......................................................................................

Then, Meiko came to tell Kaito and Luka, that she ran a warm bath for mom-to-be; brunette figured out that it would help with the pain.

Meiko: I've run a bath. Kaito, could you help move Luka and get her in here?

Kaito: Okay, Mei-chan, i got you!

Kaito bent down to kiss his daughter through Lulu's belly.

Kaito: I know, I know, little one, you'll be in your sweet mother's arms very soon. Please, try not to hurt mommy, ok?

Shion helped Luka get onto her feet and slowly make their way to the bathroom. Trio had to stop for a while because of Megurine`s painful contractions. Kaito and Meiko hugged and swayed Luka from side to side as she twitched from the growing pain.

Kaito: Ok, Lu, we're at the bathroom now. You get in the tub, dear; I'll be right behind you, we have towels and ice in case.

Megurine took her night dress off, and Mei helped to lower her into the tub.

Meiko: I'm going to check how dilated you are, is that okay?

Luka: Oh, well.. As you say, Mei-chan, you just want to make sure that JuJu and I are safe..

When Octo mom-to-be got into a comfortable for herself pose, Meiko started to check her. She tried her best to do it painless and fast.

Meiko: Uh-huh.. - mumbled Meiko.

Luka: Wha.. what is it, Mei-chan?

Meiko: *clears throat* Don't be scared, honey, but you are 7 cm dilated, which means that you are going to see your little daughter very soon..

Luka: Huh?! R-really?! Oh my...

Kaito: No worries, Lulu. You don`t need to be nervous; being nervous may harm you and our little one. And now, let's practice some deep breathing, okay?

Luka: O-okay, Kai-kun. I will try to do so.

Kaito started to lightly massage pinkette`s firm belly and let her lean against him as she started to practice breathing deeply. He looked at her tired yet beautiful eyes, and asked:

Kaito: You know what, Lulu? When i was a little, my mother used to sing an one special lullaby, she sang it especially when i felt myself bad.. And.. i want to sing it for you and Junko, you don`t mind?

Luka: O-of course, not.. I really love the way how you sang.. And I think that Junko will enjoy it too...

Shion gently hugged Luka to him and tenderly sang the lullaby from his childhood "Seven Baby Crows.. This lullaby was so sweet and relaxing that Megurine dozed off. Mei looked at her with relive, but she still knew that there is still so much to do..

......................................................................................

Meiko: Luka, it's time to push; we've got you, sweetie. - Meiko held her hand out for pinkette to squeeze.

Kaito: I have got you, love! Keep pushing and breathing!

Megurine closed her eyes and grunted, moaning while squeezing Meiko's hand as Kaito applied slight pressure to the her pregnant tummy.

Meiko: *phew* All right, I think should take a little break. Here's a drink of water, and Kaito will massage your back.

As Luka took a gulp of fresh water, Shion took some oil in his warm hands and started giving her a back massage. She started to breath intermittently.

Luka: KaiKai.. I.. I am scared.

Kaito: Wha-what is it, Lulu?

Luka: What if something... bad happens to Ju..Junko? I don't want... to lose our..baby. - Lulu started weeping and couldn't say a clear word.

Kaito noticed how Luka`s eyes began to wet, and he hugged her from behind.

Kaito: Aww, don't worry, Lulu. Everything is going to be just fine, believe me, dear. And besides, you're going to be a mom very soon!

Luka: *sob* Y-you're right.. Please forgive me for being too sensitive..

Meiko: Don't need to say sorry.. And now, my love, let's push again and take a deep breath!

...........................................................................................

Luka pushed once more again, almost screaming.

Kaito: That's it, Lu, keep going! You are a powerful and strong mommy! I believe in you!

Megurine calmed down a bit. She rubbed her pregnant belly; it was heaving up and down with contractions..

Luka: *weak giggle* Yes. I need to get used to the fact that I won't be so round and pretty.

Meiko: You were and always will be beautiful to us, my dear.

With these words, Meiko rubbed Luka's hot forehead and kissed her.

Meiko: And now, my pink beauty, let's do it again — push and don't forget to breathe!

Kaito: I believe in you, love! You can do it!

Meiko: Once more, Luka! We are almost on the finish line!

Luka tried her best; she knew that she must do her best, for the sake of her loved ones, for the sake of her little daughter...

Kaito: Oh, Lulu! You almost did it! I can see our Juju`s little shoulders already! Now, love, once again!

After these words, Luka pushed again. She whined and whimpered but breathed often, as if she had run the whole marathon.

Meiko: You've done good, Lulu! Can you believe that we are going to see our little one in more than a few minutes?

Luka: R-really..?!

Meiko noticed how baby almost went full and took a towel, just to make sure that little one and her mother won`t get a rupture.

Meiko: Get ready, Lulu! Now you need to hold yourself, so you will help the little one to let out! Kaito - you keep supporting!

...............................................................................

One more push, just one, that's all it took... And all three have heard a loud scream.

"WAAH-AH-AAAAAH!" - Finally, the baby has arrived. The scream was like a final accord to 9 months of journey carrying under heart.

Kaito + Meiko: She`s here!

Megurine Luka started crying again, but these tears were from joy; she was so exhausted, but very happy to see her long-expected baby. Meiko took a little Junko and put on her pink mommy. Kaito caressed Luka`s tousled hair and looked at a new member of their family with a smile.

Luka: Welcome home, my little fishling. You are new to the world, but I already love you with all my heart.

Megurine kissed her infant daughter on the forehead. The baby was red and warm, in nutshell - she looked like a healthy child.

Kaito: Oh my, she is so beautiful...Hello, little Junko! It is me - your papa...- Kaito tried his best not to cry, but a single tear came from his eye.

Meiko: Aww, Kaito, are you crying?

Kaito: No, it is just a little speck of dust that got into the eye, heh..

Meiko: As you say.. *giggles* Well, i can say that our Luka is officially became an Octo-mom, for sure..

And now, Four of them were cuddling, and pinkette's experience becoming a mother was just begun.

#vocaloid fiction #askkaimeilu #vocaloid #kaimeiluka #megurine luka #meiko #luka megurine #kaito #tw pregnant #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth #arc: how aisusakeoctolings are made

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carolinemillerbooks · 7 months

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New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/the-overthrow-of-reason/

The Overthrow Of Reason

When a high-speed train is barrelling down the track, a person who knows the trestle ahead has been washed away has one obligation–to run in the direction of the impending disaster in the hope of assisting survivors. Those of us who sense our country is nearing a failed state face the same obligation. Explanations may vary about how our democracy came to this pass. One reason is fear. Many of us feel our way of life is threatened by a growing number of strangers different from ourselves. Feeling alienated, some of us fall into a frenzy, hoping to preserve what’s familiar but ending up morphing into agents of chaos, ready to destroy the country in a misguided effort to save it. The philosopher Eric Hoffer once noted that the human psyche requires us to believe in the devil. Hitler depended upon our dark side. If Jews didn’t exist he once said, they would have to be invented. (The True Believer, by Eric Hoffer, Harperennial, Modern Classics, 1989, pg. 91.) Hate has its purpose, Hoffer admits. It releases us from the burden of thought and narrows freedom to a one-way street that ends in tyranny. The absolute right to bear arms, for example, absolves many from guilt when they see children murdered in their classrooms. Those who cry, “Right to Life” are similarly infected. Religious conservatives who are willing to impose their absolutes upon believers and non-believers alike seem unmoved by the reality that antiabortion laws result in women’s deaths. Fanaticism, if allowed to grow, drives a stake through the heart of reason. What flourishes in its place are lies. Donald Trump insists the 2020 Presidential election was stolen from him. His flock echoes the refrain until the lie gains the ring of truth. Oddly enough, there is a reason for this phenomenon. Scientists have proved that people accept lies more readily than truth. Why? No one knows. Yet it is a fact that robots detect falsehoods better than humans. Lies are common in politics. A majority of voters believe Democrats are spendthrifts and Republicans are better at handling the national debt. The truth is the opposite. Reagan took the deficit from $70 billion to $175 billion. Bush 41 raised it to $300 billion. Clinton got it to zero. Bush 43 took it from zero to $1.2 trillion. Obama halved it to $600 billion. Trump raised it again to a trillion. People even lie to themselves. Republican House Representative Lauren Boebert imagined she took a high moral ground when she warned Drag Queens to stay out of her district. Yet, while attending a performance of Beetlejuice, she was escorted from the theater for engaging in heavy petting with a man who owns a bar that hosts Drag Queen shows. Hypocrisy isn’t new. It has plagued human beings since recorded time. What’s changed is that shame no longer appends to it. A nation with no respect for truth isn’t choosey about its leaders. The line between private and public benefit gets blurred in the minds of the greedy and self-interest passes for the country’s welfare. A would-be tyrant like Donald Trump may exhort his followers to engage in insurrection under the guise of patriotism, but he makes dupes of them and vulnerable to rudderless malcontents who would destroy democracy for no other reason than they believe it’s possible. What are we to do, those of us who see our democracy like a train hurtling down the track to its doom? We must vote, of course, in both local and national elections. Walking a precinct or making phone calls for a candidate is important. Writing a check to support a political campaign is also a good idea. But before we take these actions, let us be resolved in this. We must choose reason and truth in the defense of our country. …thoughtful citizens can change the world. Indeed it is the only thing that ever has. (Margaret Mead.)

#Adolf Hitler #Beetlejuice #Donald Trump #Drag Queens #Eric Hoffer #Falsehoods about Republicans and Democrats #gun advocates #Lauren Boubert #Margaret Mead #misguided patriotism #People lie to themselves #people readily accept lies #Right to Life suporters #the need for thoughtful citizens #The True Believer

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bluejay1009 · 2 years

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Hello, this is very late night for me but I just wanted to write another post about the Hidden World and mainly focus on the message of the overall movie. I have been reading a lot of post both here on Tumblr and on Reddit about the message of the movie both in a positive way and a negative way. I wanted to give my own opinion of the message that the movie delivers because I find the message that movie brings about at the end shows the realism of the world that is the only part that I agree with. But, I found that the message was to cynical if it is intended for a child audience to be concerning. Also the way that Hiccup has just gave up on his goal for humans and dragons to coexist and just how close he was but one villain who wasn't even as powerful as Drago manages to just break that resolved. Also leaving nothing for other to pick up and start were he have left off in the future and armed with the knowledge to not make the same mistakes that he made. Simply just waiting for change to occur in humans to accept the dragons. In my own personal opinion change would not happened but just sitting still and waiting for people to change their viewpoint. Do you think MLK sat still waited until people of colored got their rights and equality? Do you think that LGBTQ sat still and waited for people to accept gays and same sex marriages? They didn't wait for change to happened they made moves to start changes that had a impact in our society today. They fought to make changes in our society and it was a battle with lots of up's and downs but they perceive and had the determination to continue to fight which has led us to were we are and those who they left to continue their work are still fighting to continue to promote change.

That should have been the message that the hidden world should have left off rather than such a message doesn't make sense when you have the last two movies because their is no connection whatsoever. Is this the message that younger generations should have that they should just sit still and wait for the world to get better on it's because to me that is very unrealistic.

Also just the humans that should learn to accept the dragons but the dragons as well with the human because they're also dragons who are evil such as the "Red Death" so I find the concept that humans are the only greedy creatures that very vile to be very unrealistic because we see the dragons capable of these same things if we think of them as their own people and civilization rather than just animals which is what Hiccup have always promoted that dragons are more than just beast.

Also the dragons going into hiding and waiting for humans to change their ways would achieve nothing because the humans would forget their existence and would have progress into the technology we have today as well as our economies becoming more expansive to which there won't be room for a beneficial coexistence with the dragons because humans would benefit nothing from it because we have developed technology to help carried us in so many ways and capacities than the dragons can. Also if war were to break out we have developed ways for which we can defend ourselves and kill dragons much more easily without even been present such as drones and long distance weaponry like missiles and rocket launchers.

If dragons were not made to be a myth and there was evidence humans and dragons have coexisted peacefully and that they still exists I think their would have been a large conservation to reintroduce them to their habitats and also transport them to distant lands that require more biodiversity in which we have destroyed. I feel that would have been very beneficial into keeping the planet's balance healthy and prompt the environment to thrive. Also humans in modern society wouldn't try to exploit the use of dragons because we have technologies that surpassed the abilities of the dragons themselves. But, I can see us exploiting the gronckles for the iron that they produce which would mean we have to less drill the planet to look for more minerals. But it would also mean that boulder class dragons benefit from being fed high rich ores and rocks which would be very beneficial for their health.

This is how I would have liked for the hidden world to have been different and I am actually considering in writting a story but with a U.S soldier been transported in HTTYD universe before the first movie by a very strange storm in a middle of a training exercise. Let me know what you guys thinks and what your opinions are.

Also I wanted to add a bit more to the movie that is not about the message but on how toothless was acting when the light fury attacked hiccup because he should have reacted negatively to that instead he just lets it happened without a second thought. The movie manage to under developed the bond that hiccup and toothless have that made it the post star of the entire franchise and it just gets dissolve into nothing as if a soul bond was never ever required to happened in the first place which I find irritating and annoying. I just wanted to get that out of the way since I wanted to add more but I do not want to make this post super long.

#httyd movies #the hidden world #2022 #hiccup #toothless #light fury

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mha-platonic-yanderes · 3 years

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Settling In: Parentals

Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Clan AU

The room is pink. Well, it’s mostly pink. It’s pink with white furniture and embellishments. The closet doors are white and so is the windowsill. The floor is hardwood brown. But everything else is a bubblegum pink.

You’d prefer another color, one that wasn’t so bright and grating to the eyes. But you don’t say that. You just fiddle with your one dufflebag’s handle. This is all you have left, after bouncing around from group home to group home. A year ago—when your parents died—you had thrice as much. Now this and the backpack for schoolwork is all you have left.

“Do you like it?” The mother of this house and wife to the current number one hero, asks you a question. He’s not here; nobody’s here except you two. The house seems too big for three people, but there are pictures on the wall of others. It doesn’t look lived in; there is no semblance of a family. Though, the pictures on the wall show a six person family. It shows that there are four more people here and you get your own room. In a house with now seven people, you get your own room and you aren’t giving it up.

Despite the pink color and the vast emptiness, you answer honestly, “Yeah, I do.” You do like it, even if it's not for the right reasons

Her hands are on your shoulder. You can feel the increased pressure on one side lift up, almost as if she’d been purposefully holding onto you too tight.

“Good. Now, let’s unpack.” She gracefully takes the bag out of your hand, setting it atop the bed. You sit down alongside it, opening your backpack. A couple of notebooks, pencils, and two textbooks sit inside.

You start to stand, heading to take the materials to the desk they’ve provided. Though, whilst holding a pair of pajamas—slightly too little but in [y/f/c]—she takes the books out of your hand.

“Just relax, [Y/N].” Rei replies, “Let me handle it.”

You sit on the bed twiddling with your blouse’s edge. You wore your best outfit, even though it was just your school uniform, without the frumpy sweater.

The bed is insanely soft. With satin sheets, a thick, fluffy comforter, and a healthy amount of pillows, it's easily the softest place you’ve been.

“I’ll have a driver return your school books back to your former school.” Rei replies, on the other side of the room. You shift to look at her, but she has her back turned to you. “I’ll discuss with my husband what school to place you at.”

“Alright.” You’ve had to transfer schools about three times since last year. Moving again isn’t a hassle anymore. You know not to hope you won’t move again. Though. you know not to get attached to anything in case you have to—in case this doesn’t work out.

“We’ll get you a better education than the one you were definitely receiving.” You can hear the gentle thump of one of your textbooks. She heads back to your duffle bag; it’s now half empty. “My eldest three all went to Somei Private Academy for junior high. Two ended up continuing through highschool as well. My eldest went to Shiketsu and my youngest is in Yuuei now.”

You know those schools. They’re expensive, private academies. You’ve only ever been in public schools. The wealth was obvious when you were picked up in a blackened car with a driver. You just didn’t expect them to spend that money on you, a lowly orphan.

“Or we’ll just hire a set of tutors like we did for our youngest before he went to Yuuei.” She decides what to hang up or fold. You’ll have to go through it all later to find everything. Luckily, you don’t own much—or unluckily, depends on how you look at it. But you don’t dwell on the issue long, responding quickly to the lady, “Alright.”

She smiles at you. It’s sincere, motherly. It’s what your mother would’ve done, before the accident. It’s something you sorely missed since then.

“You’re extremely agreeable, aren’t you?” She finishes out the bag, pressing it into the top of your closet. Your backpack gets sat beside the desk. This room is large and your things are set in its appropriate places across from it.

“I guess.”

“That’s a good thing, darling.” She goes to mess with your hair, “Now, for dinner tonight, let's change you into something a bit nicer, yes?”

You pause, looking at your toes in their pristine white socks. You can see her legs as well, considering how close she is to you, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just have to go shopping for some new things.” Rei replies, taking her other hand to your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “Enji and I know what we are getting ourselves into, buying you a whole new wardrobe will be nothing.”

She takes her hands from your head and into your hands, helping you up.

“Where are we going?” She leads you back from your room to the rest of the house.

“Shopping, darling.” Rei replies, “We have five hours to do so, before I must start dinner, that is. Is there anything you want?”

“No, not really.” She’s already planning to drop a substantial amount of money on you and she’s already being incredibly maternal. You aren’t going to stretch that patience thin and have her snap already. You aren’t going to ruin this for yourself.

She smiles at you, “I’ll figure out what you like soon enough.”

===

The shopping mall standing in front of you was not where you usually would’ve gone. A basic department store, maybe a strip mall if you’re lucky would be where you usually shopped. This place however, is at least four stories high standing stark white and black against the almost colorless blue-grey sky. Though, you don’t get to admire it long. Rei quickly pulls you out of the cold outdoors and into the perfectly heated building.

“Now, I say we head to clothing stores first and then to more home goods type stores, so we don’t have to pack the heavy stuff around. Though, if we get too much to carry, we can send it back to the car and then continue shopping.” Rei replies, “Is that alright?”

You nod, still reluctantly going along this whole situation. The car is actually a limo and you have your own room in a massive estate. You have an impossibly nice and maternal caretaker who’s insanely rich. This is your “Annie” moment; this is your fairytale scenario. The shoe has to drop at some point. You aren’t going to be blindsided when it does.

“Good.” She locks arms with you, holding you close. It’s weird, but not entirely uncomfortable. You want to trust her. Your sense of judgement is clouded, knowing that she can’t really be this nice, but you want her to be like this

She leads you into a clothing store, taking you to the brightly colored section. Rei silently holds a peach colored sweater up to you. She grabs an orange skirt, looking at them both together.

“What do you think of this?” She asks, holding them up together. The sweater is thick,

assumedly warm. The skirt however, isn’t,. You tell her that.

“That’s what some white stockings are for [y/n].” She laughs lightly, “and please call me Rei. You don’t have to be so formal.”

“Alright... Rei.” Acclimating to her is easy. At the moment, you don’t care what the rest of her family is like, she’s nice and maternal and everything you miss from your own mother.

She grabs multiple sweater and skirt combinations, not grabbing a single pair of pants for you. This store doesn’t sell tee shirts or blouses, sticking to a younger, but put together catalog. You briefly entertain the idea of them being traditionalists, but you don’t mind that. You’ve lived in worse houses than one with conservative ideals.

And besides, the outfits are cute. You hope you can keep them if everything goes south.

“Put these on.” She hands you the clothing, “and I want to see every outfit you try on. I want to see if it looks good.”

The fitting rooms are nicer than any you’ve ever been to. When checking the price of the items she’s handed to you, you can see why. The least expensive thing is a 10,000 yen skirt. It’s plain blue, just like the 1,500 yen one you have on now. It's obviously of higher quality, but guilt pangs in your chest at the thought of her spending so much money on you. This is at least a dozen items in here.

You slip it on, alongside the white sweater, filled with gold stars. You look at yourself in the mirror, before heading out the door. Rei sits in a chair, looking at you.

“You look absolutely adorable.” Rei comments, “We’re keeping it.”

She doesn’t let you put your input in. But she’s paying for it, so you don’t complain.

Five more times, you come out in sweater and skirt combinations. She has nothing but praise for each outfit. It’s refreshing. Your last home was less than pleasant.

Rei leaves you to change back into your uniform. All six outfits are bought and placed into two bags, both on her arm away from you. She wraps her other arm into the crook of your arm.

“Onto the next store we go.”

As you all head to a different floor of the mall, you voice concerns you originally had back in the dressing room, “You know… you don’t have to spend so much money on me.” You tell her, then backtrack, “Not that I’m not grateful! I am really! It’s just that I don’t need stuff this fancy, you know?”

“[Y/N], I am your mother now. It’s my duty to get you clothes and stuff.” She says it with a certainty that is oddly comforting. Everything about her is that way, from her soft, smooth skin to her warm, grey eyes to her bright, white smile. She’s intensely maternal, something that you didn’t realize you wanted anymore, until today, “and we must keep you up to the Todoroki standard. After all, you’re going to be one of us for now on.”

Being one of them. You don’t know of any Todorokis; you’ve never been a huge fan of heroes like some of your peers. But belonging, that’s something you’ve craved since it was ripped away from you. A family—that’s what you’ve always wanted.

“All right.”

“Chin up, shoulders back.” She tells you, “You’re new life begins tonight.”

===

Rei never let you carry a single bag throughout your trip. She also wouldn’t let you see any of the receipts or let you have a final word on anything you got. But, you got all nice things—all things you like. So, you don’t mind.

“Change into the white dress with the red and pink roses.” She instructs, “And redo your hair. First impressions are important, after all.”

You haven’t met her husband, nor any of her children. But, as the pictures on the wall show, her husband is Endeavor, the number one hero. Usually you’d meet the person fostering you beforehand, but with his affluence, there needed to be no meetings beforehand.

Following her instructions, you rifle through the bags, finding the dress she wanted you to wear. Slipping out of your old clothes and into the cold, expensive dress is a quick process. Doing your hair to a standard that would make her proud, is not. Eventually you get it right.

Unlike earlier, you take the time to unbag your stuff. You mimic what Rei did in your closet. Shirts, sweaters and dresses are hung up. Skirts, leggings, and stockings are folded in the dresser. The shoes are placed on the inside of your closet. The few decorations you got are placed so that they don’t move what Rei and her husband already got you. She’s extremely peculiar about order. You won’t break that order.

“[Y/N].” She knocks on the door that doesn’t lock, “What’s taking you so long. Do you need help?”

You open the door for her, “I was just putting everything away, Rei.”

She comes in, looking at the room. She pulls the draws out and reopens the closet door, looking inside them. It’s an inspection, to see if everything is up to code.

Rei pinches your cheek, “ It’s perfect, exactly how I imagined it.”

Perfect. She’s praising your work. The word warms your heart, bringing a smile to your face. You haven’t gotten enough praise in your life, clearly.

“Thank you.”

“Now come on.” She tugs at your wrist, “Enji will be here any moment and I need help plating the table. Usually Fuyumi would do it, but you’ll meet my other children at a later date. Tonight is just about you, me, and Enji.”

“Alright.” Relief settles from your scrunched up soldiers. You only have to meet one new person, not five like you assumed. One person is better than five people—even if he is the #1 Hero.

You’re led back through the sitting room and into the dining room. It’s nice, well lit. It’s low to the ground and cushioned. You’ve expected this from this house. Every room besides your own is extremely traditional. You expected the whole house to be like this, once you walked through the doors.

“The plates and cups are in the left cabinet, do be careful with them.” Rei points to a side room, at the back of the dining room, “I’ll bring in the cutlery. Enji should be here soon.”

As if on cue, you hear the front door being opened. A low voice calls out, “Rei, darling? [Y/N]?”

You freeze, plates and cups in hand. Something about the number one hero calling out of your name unsettles you. Though, somehow immediately aware of your apprehension, Rei places a cold hand against your back. You can feel it through the dress, which isn’t surprising, considering how thin it is.

“We’re in the dining room, honey.” Rei takes the plates and cups from your hands, placing them down and simultaneously leading you to your seat. You sit, legs together and bent to the side. You sit currently in the seat to the left of the table’s end.

The number one hero—Rei’s husband—kisses her cheek. He towers over her. She was waiting for him at the entrance. You try not to make any noise; you try not to interrupt them.

She heads to the seat across from you, leaving Endeavor to sit at the head of the table. You aren’t surprised; this family gives of very traditional vibes. He radiates heat to your right, still aflame, showing off his powerful quirk.

The food is already on the table. It’s more than enough for the three people here, possibly more than enough for the six people in the photos—plus yourself. You make your own plate, only getting what you know you’ll eat. You don’t want to take too much, you don’t want to be greedy.

“Make sure you actually get full, [Y/N].” Rei smiles at you. It’s warm and soft.

“I am, Miss.” You can feel Endeavor staring at you, but you don’t look at him. You shift your head down, looking at the plate in front of you. You don’t grab more; you don’t want to ruin their hospitality with your selfishness.

Rei and Endeavor talk to themselves, mostly about work. They occasionally talk about three other people—Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo. There are four children in the photos on the wall; it’s a family of six. Though, you don’t ask about the unnamed child, it isn’t your place to do so.

You finish your food fairly quickly, but so do the other two. You look up at Endeavor for the first time tonight, asking, “Can I be excused, sir.”

“No.” He replies, “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh… alright.” You fiddle with the hem of your dress underneath the table, “What do you want to discuss, sir?”

“I’ll take the dirty dishes and excess food.” Rei smiles at you, “You’ll be fine, [Y/N]. Pass me your plate.”

Endeavor waits for Rei to leave to start talking. You are acutely aware of how hot it is now, without Rei’s cooling, calming effect.

“How was your day today?” He starts the conversation off decently well. You look him in the eye, “Good.” You were taught manners growing up; you know how to hold a conversation, no matter how intimidating the person you’re talking to is.

“That is a pretty dress on you, [Y/N].”

“Thank you.”

“Now then. While you are here, there shall be rules you will follow. Rei and I have devised a fair list and she’ll go over them with you extensively in the morning.” He tells you, “Though, the ones concerning you tonight are: no technology post-dinner and that you shall be in bed by ten o’clock. Rei shall wake you up at seven am tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Those aren’t too harsh rules; other homes have had worst lists. Though, you won’t make a final decision on that until tomorrow. You tentatively ask another question, “Uhhh, sir. Rei mentioned other children. If you don’t mind me asking, where are they?”

“Shoto goes to U.A. They have dorms now and are forced to stay there. Fuyumi and Natsuo have since moved out, but visit occasionally. You’ll meet them when it is appropriate.” Endeavor tells you, “And [Y/N], call me Enji. You are now dismissed.”

“Alright, Enji.” As you stand to leave, you use his name, “Thank you.”

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #mha #bnha #platonic yandere #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #enji todoroki #rei todoroki #canon? what canon?#who was going to tell me that my line breaks dont transfer over to tumblr like they do to ao3

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑈𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑛 𝑈𝑠 (𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜) 𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐶𝐸𝑂! 𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/𝐸𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝐷𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝑁𝑜𝑛! 𝐼𝑑𝑜𝑙 𝐴𝑈

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝐶𝐸𝑂 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑. 𝐻𝑒'𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑝ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒........𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑜'𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑦.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡:6K

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑏𝑠/𝑒𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑙𝑎𝑝 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑑𝑟𝑦 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 (𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑦), 𝑎𝑠𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑥𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝑠𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑒, 𝑢𝑛𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥 (𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛).

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

"In behalf of all of us present here, I'd like to congratulate our dear friend Yunho on finally settling down, on finding someone who truly makes him happy and promising to spend the rest of his life with her."

Lifting the glass cup up, Seonghwa finished with a loud:

"To Yunho and his lovely bride."

The rest of the groomsmen let out a bunch of hollers and whistling, signaling their approval of the speech given by the oldest male.

Yunho couldn't keep the happy grin off his face.

"Thanks so much guys. It really means a lot to me that you guys would do this for me."

"What kind of friends would we be if we weren't happy for you?" Hongjoong nudged him gently.

"And what kind of groomsmen would we be if we didn't throw you a super cool and totally expensive bachelor party." Wooyoung clinked glasses with San, both giving each other a not so subtle look that they were up to something.

The rest decided to ignore them, figuring they were just messing around like they usually did. They began to talk about their own married lives, funny stories that happened to them while they were on the honeymoon, their first fights as couples, and how they tended to deal with their in laws. Seonghwa was also more than happy to talk about how his wife and him were already trying for a baby, which came to no surprise to the others, considering how much he adored kids. The two single men though, were quickly becoming bored with the subject, either rolling their eyes at them or just downing more shots just to kill time.

"Ok! If you pansies are done, I think it's time to bring out the real entertainment." San got up and went over to the door.

Yunho tensed up noticeably.

"San.....remember I said no strippers or anything like that."

"Oh lighten up Yunho! It'll only be one night! One night before you're forever tied down to 1 woman! 1!" Wooyoung argued.

"Unsurprised you'd be in on this sort of shenanigans as well." Yeosang rolled his eyes at him.

"Ok so can I open the door and let the fine ladies on?" San tapped his foot impatiently.

Yunho lowered himself on his seat.

"I p-promised Jieun...."

"Have a little respect you assholes." Hongjoong piped up, sensing how uncomfortable his friend was getting.

"Ok fine! I'll tell you what."

Going over to him, San made Yunho get up and pointed him towards another door at the end of the hallway.

"See that room there? Why don't you be a good little obedient puppy to your new master and watch tv or something while we enjoy ourselves here. Does that sound like a plan?" San asked him with a totally innocent smile.

"Ok!" Yunho didn't even hesitate to get out of the situation, already walking away as rapidly as he could.

"I wanna go too-"

"No you don't!" Wooyoung grabbed Yeosang, nearly choke holding him, the poor man struggling to breathe.

The rest of the boys watched as Yunho left, oblivious to what was happening behind him. It was Seonghwa who knew something was up.

"What did you do?" He questioned them, eyeing them suspiciously.

San and Wooyoung released a series of laughs that only made the rest of them worry.

"Let's just say Yunho might just have the best time of his life if he'd let loose a little." San hinted.

The other boys looked at them in disbelief.

"You didn't." Mingi's mouth dropped.

"Ok, that's low even for you two. I'm going over there and getting him out if it."

Hongjoong was stopped in his tracks by San.

"Listen, Yunho is old enough to decide for himself. If he's really uncomfortable, he'll leave as soon as the girl gets there. If not....well....he's one lucky guy." He snorted.

Wooyoung shook his head.

"I'm still mad at you for letting him have her. I wanted her!"

"It was only fair he got the best one don't you think? This is his party." San explained.

"Who? Who exactly did you get for him?"

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

Yunho shifted awkwardly in the dimly lit room. He could hardly make out any of the furniture surrounding him, which resulted in him tripping or hitting his thigh or hip on the corner of somethings.

"Light light. Where's the light?" He tried feeling around, hoping to find something somewhere.

Instead, the room itself lit up a light lavender color, slow and sensual music playing in the background. Yunho froze as he realized what he just walked into.

"Fuck you San." He ran his hand down his face, already getting nervous at whatever was going to happen now.

Soon enough, he heard the door behind him open. The clatter of heels resonated in the room. Still not turning around, Yunho nervously said:

"Listen, th-this was all a misunderstanding....so if-if you could please just go back, I'd really appreciate it."

The footsteps halted themselves, and all was silent for a moment, until the figure started walking once again, this time emanating a subtle giggle.

"A little shy aren't we? Don't worry honey. I'll make sure to ease your mind."

Yunho could hear them approaching him even more.

"N-no! That's ok! I don't- I mean! I have a fiancee." He blurted out.

The person now stood right behind him and Yunho felt a shudder down his body, as well as an overly familiar thrill when they rested their hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah I know. A lot of soon to be married men always say that........ don't worry."

Leaning in, they whispered in his ear:

"It'll be our little secret."

Delicate hands wrapped themselves around his waist. Yunho pried their hands off and began turning.

"No! Seriously I don't-"

Yunho cut himself off when he stared at the person standing right in front of him, who was equally shocked to see him.

"Y/N?"

"Yunho?"

They both stared in disbelief at each other, both wondering if it was their imagination or if this was reality. Yunho was extremely stunned. Here right in front of him, was none other than his very first love, looking at him with the same angelic eyes that he had fallen madly in love with years ago. His eyes couldn't help but start trailing down, scanning down every inch of her body. He blushed as he took in her attire: an ivory white lingerie set with glittery silver adornments meticulously stitched into it. It consisted of a push up bra that made her cleavage look more rounded, a corset that highlighted her waist and made her hips look wider, lace cheeky panties made specifically to show off just enough of her ass, and long thigh high stockings that had an intricate lace trimming with 2 bows at the center.

Yunho gulped slowly as he took all of her in. Her glamorous body dressed so provocatively as well as memories of the past, memories that were not so pure, memories of their bodies intertwined together, all were becoming too much for him and he felt himself start to grow a little problem in his pants. Y/N on the other hand noticed how he was staring at her and she started to become a little self-conscious. She wrapped her arms across her chest in a protective manner.

"Well isn't this suddenly awkward." She was the first to speak up.

"Huh? Oh right!" Yunho snapped out of his trance, now looking at anywhere but her, hoping not to think about her in that way anymore.

The silence from before returned once again, only the music playing to keep it from being totally mute. Yunho scratched the back of his head, trying to think of what to say.

"It's nice to see you.....it's been so long." He started.

"Y-yeah it has been. A couple of years." She continued.

"6 actually." Yunho surprised himself that he remembered that fact.

Y/N let out a small 'oh' at that, nodding at nothing in particular.

"So uh.......is this what you do now?" He questioned her, curious to know why she'd even be in such a position in the first place.

"Ummm....yeah..." She answered rather embarrassed.

Yunho decided not to further that topic anymore, it was obvious she didn't want to talk about it.

"Still at your dad's company?"

Yunho was surprised and touched she even remembered that.

"Oh yeah....I actually took over 2 years ago." He smiled proudly.

"Oh really? That's great. I'm sure your family must be proud." She congratulated him.

She swayed back and forth awkwardly, wanting to ask another questions but afraid of his response.

"So......you're getting married?" She finally asked.

Yunho looked confused for a second, then he realized what she meant.

"Ummm.....yeah....I am."

"Well then congratulations. She really is a lucky girl." She forced a smile on her features.

"Oh I wouldn't say that......you know she's just really nice....and she's like that... and yeah..." at this point Yunho was just rambling on, he himself not even sure of what he was talking about.

Y/N sighed softly.

"Ok I have to know. If you're getting married, what are you doing in a place like this? You were always more on the....conservative side of things." She had to know.

Yunho now covered his face with his large hands.

"I don't know. I swear there were supposed to be no wild or crazy antics at this bachelor party, but I got these 2 friends, and they're single and you can figure out the rest." He tried to explain.

"Oh yeah. There's always that couple of friends that just never take things seriously." She chuckled, having seeing that situation too many times.

Yunho groaned slightly.

"Well....I guess this was the easiest gig I've had to do." She decided to lighten up the situation.

"What do you mean?"

She let out a laugh at Yunho's question.

"I mean, I'm practically getting paid to just sit here since obviously you won't want me to do my job." She rolled her eyes.

"No! I mean yes! I mean.....ugh!" Yunho mentally slapped himself.

"Won't you get in trouble?"

She shrugged.

"Considering the fact your friends specifically paid for 'no rules', I really won't."

"Oh...." Yunho breathed out, not realizing he sounded a little too disappointed.

Y/N turned and smirked at him.

"What? Were you expecting me to give you something?" She teased him.

"What?! I- No!" Yunho's red ears was a huge indication of his lie.

Y/N let out a small laugh as she came closer to him, making him back away from her.

"Oh? I think you're lying Yunho. I think you actually want me to give you a little show. Is that what you want?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Yunho stumbled back on the couch, falling into a sitting position as Y/N placed her arms on opposite sides of his body, effectively trapping him. Yunho couldn't help it as he looked back down at her chest and then down her legs. He bit his lip as he imagined them wrapped around his waist, as they had been many times in the past. He looked back up at her face. He knew she was only messing with him, she wouldn't actually do anything to him, especially if he asked her not to. And he really shouldn't allow anything to happen.... but he decided to ignore his gut for the first time in years and not think about the consequences.

Yunho let out a small scoff as he leaned in and challenged her:

"Can you even do anything doll?"

He watched as Y/N momentarily felt dazed at his use of the old pet name he had for her, knowing the impact it had on her.

"I bet you're not even that good." He continued his taunting, wanting to rile her up as much as he could.

It definitely worked as Y/N grabbed his collar and pushed his face against hers.

"I'm actually the best around here baby. Trust me when I say before I'm done, you'll already be cumming inside your pants." She whispered, her lips dangerously close to his, their noses practically touching.

Yunho released a small grunt when she pushed him back in the chair. He watched her as she went over to a keypad on the wall, changing the music to a completely different song. His eyes lingered on her butt cheeks that were poking out of the lace material. His hand twitched, feeling the urge to bend her over his lap and spank them like he used to do when she misbehaved. He watched in fascination as she turned her attention back to him, her face suddenly turning more confident and seductive.

Y/N's body began swaying to the music, every wave of her arms, every roll of her hips and every flirty wink were so mesmerizing and hypnotic to Yunho. He always had a hidden passion for dancing, so this was quite a spectacle for him, especially coming from his dearly beloved ex. An ex that he had cried and yearned for long after he let her go, someone that it took a long time for him to forget and erase completely from his heart.

But now she was here again and she was stirring emotions inside him he had thought he'd gotten over, had buried away. And reactions from his body that he had thought he had under control. But as he watched her crawl over to him, placing herself in between his thighs, he couldn't help but hard as he recalled the last time he had her in that position. He shuddered when she ran her hands across his thighs, her perfectly manicured nails raking over his dress pants. From this angle, he could see an even better view of her breasts that were covered by her bra.

Noticing where his eyes were placed, Y/N's hands swooped up and caressed her torso.

"Oh? Is this what got your attention?"

Yunho's stare went back to her face, now getting shy at the realization that he got caught staring. But Y/N didn't mind. Instead she merely turned around as she began unbuttoning the front part of her corset.

"Want to have a better look?" She turned her head slightly to see his reaction.

Yunho was already whispering out a 'yes' before she even finished her sentence. Satisfied by the answer, she took off the corset and threw it across the room, letting it land on the floor. As she said back up, she made sure to push her ass out when she got back out. Yunho tilted his head back when it came to close to his face that it would have pressed against it had he not moved. Y/N turned around and one by one, her legs sat themselves by Yunho's side, straddling him in the process. Her hands began fiddling with his tie, loosening it up.

"This what you wanted to see?" She cooed as she rose her chest up, almost brushing them against his chin.

"Fuck yes.."

Without thinking, Yunho's large hands cupped her ass, kneading the soft skin as he grinded his hips against hers. Y/N let out a small whimper at his touch, the familiarity sending a spark down her body. Yunho couldn't help the smug smile when he began to feel the wet spot that was soaking through her underwear.

"Look at that, the little slut is enjoying this as much as I am."

Slapping her ass, he gripped her hips harshly as he forced her to grind down harder on him. Y/N moaned as she felt his huge bulge pressing up against her drenched core, and threw her head back when Yunho's lips began attacking her neck, nearly startling her.

"Let's see who cums first."

Yunho's mouth sucked and bit down expertly at all her sensitive spots, remembering perfectly well how to push her closer to the edge. He felt a sense of pride and satisfaction when he heard her moans and whimpers grow louder. Even after years, he could still get her riled up. And that fact kind of bothered Y/N which prompted her to push Yunho down on the couch and hold his arms in place as she decided to take control of the movements of their hips.

Yunho hissed softly as he looked at her with fire in his eyes.

"Don't try to take control doll. You know how that will end for you."

Knowing how to break him, she simply laughed mockingly at him and rolled her eyes. Yanking his hands off her grip rather easily, Yunho flipped their positions so he was hovering above her, his mouth clashing with hers in a heated and sloppy kiss. He wasted no time in slipping his hand inside her now ruined underwear, his thumb circling around her clit in harsh motions.

"Why must you be such a brat?" He asked in between their heated makeout session.

Chuckling softly, her hand undid his belt and zipper, pulling it down enough to let her palm him through his briefs before pulling those down as well, letting his cock spring free so she could stroke him, eliciting the most sinful moans from him.

Both of them pulled away to look into each other's eyes, determined to make the other break first, but it was so hard when they were both lost in their lust, reminiscing about the familiarity of their movements and fantasizing about taking it further. The grinding of their hips and their mutual pleasuring of each other had them both coming in seconds at the same time. They let out a sputter of curses and chants of each other's names as they covered their hands with the other's cum, a telltale sign of what had just taken place in that room.

They both layed still for a few minutes, trying to catch their breath and calm down from the high they just had. It was Yunho who composed himself first as he realized what he had just done and how serious it was.

"Oh my god!" He cursed himself as he quickly got up and began fixing himself.

"Yunho? Are you-"

"Please don't! Let's just pretend this didn't happen! I can't believe I-....... I'm so sorry."

Without another glance or word, he ran out the door, ignoring the worried looks of his other companions who were still in the other room and leaving Y/N alone, feeling just as confused, guilty and ashamed just like him.

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

"Yunho."

Mingi nudged him once again, waking him up from his thoughts.

"Uh..sorry what?" He shifted his focus back on his friend.

"I was telling you that the hotel sent your confirmation number." He repeated himself.

"Hotel? Hotel for what?"

Mingi widened his eyes. Sure his friend had been really zoned out all day, but to not even remember what he was there for.

"Your wedding? Yunho, you're getting married?" He reminded him.

"Oh...yeah..." Yunho looked down, staring at the floor anxiously.

Mingi closed the laptop and turned his body so he could look at Yunho directly.

"Listen, even if something happened on the bachelor party a few days ago, I doubt it was that serious that you're like this." Mingi pointed out.

Yunho looked back up, unsure if he should tell Mingi about it. But then again, no one else but his long time best friend would understand why it had such an impact on him.

"It wasn't so much what happened....it was...with whom it happened...."

Mingi furrowed his eyebrows.

"Who? Who are you talking about?"

Yunho took a deep breath before answering:

"Y/N..."

Mingi nearly fell off his chair when he heard her name again. He actually had to steady himself on the sides of it.

"Y/N? As in........?"

Yunho nodded, knowing full well what Mingi was asking.

"Well fuck man! Holy shit! This is- oh my God! Your ex!" Mingi shook his head, trying to process all the information.

"You know she isn't just an ex Mingi." Yunho admitted rather solemnly.

"I know Yunho. I remember how head over heels you were for her. You two were so much in love, it was actually kind of sickening." Mingi made a face which caused Yunho to chuckle slightly.

Mingi looked at Yunho, noticing how he had a faint smile painted across his face. By the way his eyes were staring off, he knew he was thinking about her.

"Did you....did you feel anything? I mean, while you were with her?" He had to ask.

The slight red tint on Yunho's cheeks was a dead giveaway and Mingi could immediately notice how Yunho's eyes lit up when he mentioned her.

"I felt everything all over again. It was like the first day I bumped into her at the university. Oh you should have seen her Mingi, she looked just as beautiful." Yunho sighed blissfully.

"I mean.....if she was dressed like the other exotic dancers we got, I get why you'd say it." Mingi snickered.

Yunho reached over and slapped his arm.

"That wasn't what I meant you idiot!"

Mingi pouted as he rubbed his now aching arm.

"But still.......being with her in that moment...it was as if nothing changed between us. Like our passion, our relationship...our love never faded. And now.... I can't stop thinking about her..." Yunho confessed.

"Have you kept in contact since that day?" Mingi asked.

Yunho groaned as he banged his head on the table.

"I just ran out without even saying a goodbye."

Mingi rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face.

"No offense....but once again, history repeats itself."

Yunho suddenly banged the table with his fist, eyes darting to Mingi.

"Do you think I don't know that?! Do you think it doesn't bother me knowing that I left her there, not just at the party? But 6 years ago?! Do you think I haven't been tormented these past days, regretting that I chose to please my parents and abandon her?!"

Yunho got up. His hands flew up to his hair, tugging at them slightly before letting them fall to his sides. He started taking deep breaths to calm down, trying not to get anymore agitated than he already was. Mingi looked at his friend with sorrow and pity. He knew how much Yunho suffered and tortured himself months after he broke up with Y/N, and he also know that deep down, he had never really gotten over her.

Getting up, he went to his friend's side, resting a comforting hand on his back.

"Yunho.....you can't change the past. None of us can.....but you can decide your future, for yourself. Answer yourself: these past years, everything that you've done, was it really for you? Was it because you wanted to?.....or was it because you wanted to please others? Live up to an image you felt burdened to show?......and really ask yourself:

What is it you want now?"

Yunho knew what the answer was for a fleeting moment, but then the answer vanished when he heard the door open and close.

"Baby! I'm home! And I could really use your help!"

The high pitched voice of his fiancee echoed through the room, her tiny legs rushing over with a folder in hand.

"My cue to leave." Mingi patted Yunho on the back, but before he could leave, he whispered in his ear:

"Think about what I said."

Mingi made sure to smile and politely say goodbye to Jieun before he made his way out the door, hoping his friend would come to his senses soon enough.

"So Jieun what's this about?" Yunho asked.

The girl giggled happily as she opened the folder and began displaying an array of different photos.

"Well I was thinking, that we could pick out the new apartment we would want to move in to once we come back from our honeymoon. I mean, this place is great, but I think some change would be benefit us both."

The girl began pointing to all the different options, talking her heart out enthusiastically about the wonders of each place and what she particular loved about it, but it fell upon deaf ears. Yunho was not paying any attention at all, instead he just looked right through all the pictures, his mind going over the words Mingi had made him ponder about.

"Yunho?" Jieun's annoyed voice brought him back.

"Hmm?" He nodded his head to her.

"You're not paying attention to me....again." She huffed rather annoyed.

"I'm sorry....I'm just really tired and stressed out." He excused himself.

"Yeah I know. You've been saying that these past days." She accused him.

"I'm sorry. But I just really am."

She let out an indignant scoff.

"And you think I'm not stressed? For months we've been preparing for this moment, and now that we're literally 2 days away from tying the knot, you're suddenly being cold? What's wrong with you Yunho?"

He couldn't answer her, he didn't have the strength to. He was being a coward at that very moment, he knew that very well.

"Jieun....do you think maybe we should postpone it or-"

"Absolutely not!" She stated firmly, refusing to let him finish the sentence. Lifting a finger, she warned him:

"Listen to me very carefully Jeong Yunho. You asked me to be marry you and I'm not letting you go back on your word. Tomorrow at the rehearsal dinner, you better be on your best behavior and on the day after.....you better be ready to walk down the aisle because I'm not going to let you humiliate me in front of our friends and family."

Putting on a sweet smile as if nothing happened, she tiptoed and pecked his lips.

"Ok love you honey. See you tomorrow!" She waved at him as if nothing was the matter, like she wasn't just angry at him 2 seconds ago.

Yunho paced around the living room, hands in his pocket, his foot occasionally kicking at the air. He let out long sighs every minute or so, head hung low as he thought about what to do now.

"What is it you want now?"

He repeated what Mingi asked him.

Yunho knew what he wanted.....he also knew all the risks he was taking in order to obtain it, for all he knew, he might not even get it at the end....

But he had to try. Or at least get some closure from it.

Pulling out his phone, his finger began dialing a number he had never erased from his memory, hoping it still belonged to the person he had once cherished so much and would often fall asleep while talking to them on the phone.

He could feel his heartbeat quicken with every ring that passed. His hand began clenching and unclenching as he prayed that it would be picked up soon.

"Hello?"

He stilled at the voice that sent chills down his body. He was grateful they had kept the same number all these years.

"We need to talk."

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

Y/N cautiously opened the door. Although she knew he was coming, she still wasn't quite prepared to see him, not after everything that happened a few days ago. She gestured for him to come in. Closing the door behind them, she led him to her living room, where she already had coffee waiting for him. It was actually warming to him that she remembered how he liked his coffee, and although he was very tempted to drink it, he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"I'm getting married in two days..." He started off.

Y/N nodded, although his words pained her, she refused to show any emotion.

"And I wanted to know how you felt."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why should my opinion matter at this point? You made your decision and as far as I'm concerned, right now we're just two strangers." She coldly replied.

"That's not true Y/N and you know it. You know....that there's a lot more to us." He insisted.

She held her hand up in an effort to get him to stop going down the path he was going.

"Correction. There was a lot to us. If I remember correctly, you were the one who decided to run out, both literally and figuratively."

Yunho didn't deny it, he was fully prepared to take responsibility.

"Yes I did. Ok? I admit it and I accept it. I walked away from our relationship when I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have abandoned you..."

He inhaled before he confessed:

"I shouldn't have left the one person I've ever loved and will always love."

Y/N immediately got up and crossed her arms.

"Don't say that Yunho. You're engaged, you're about to get married. It's bad enough with what happened at your bachelor party, but I'm not letting you cross the line again. You have a perfect life ahead of you, you were always destined to have one. A life surrounded by your parents and friends, with a beautiful wife and kids and that Welsh Corgi you always wanted..."

Y/N couldn't help but tear up as she said those words.

"I get why you had to leave me at that time, I do. Your parents didn't like me and they never will. They'll never accept us...... so please just make it easier on yourself and go have the perfect life you deserve."

Yunho slowly got up and began walking to her.

"You don't get it Y/N. I don't want a perfect life. I want you, I love you. I'll always love you. I want a happy, normal life with you. I want to raise that Welsh Corgi with you, even though you were always more of a cat person."

Y/N let out an involuntary laugh at that. He still knew her so well. Taking her hands in his, he added:

"Please tell me you still love me......just say it and I'll stay by your side."

Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, her tears now flowing non-stop. She was about to say no, but Yunho stopped her.

"Don't lie to me. You know I'll be able to tell. Just be completely honest with me."

His large hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs gently wiping away the tears that were trickling down.

"I'm not rich and I don't exactly have anything to offer someone like you." She admitted.

Yunho smiled. "All I want is your heart. Can't I at least have that?"

Y/N thought about it. But then she realized there was nothing to really think about when her answer 6 years ago would still be the same now.

"I love you Jeong Yunho, my heart is all yours."

As soon as the words were out, there was no more holding back. Their feelings had been locked away for far too long and needed to be released. Yunho wasted no time in finally kissing her after so long, his hands easily hoisting her up, wrapping them around his waist as he carried her to her bedroom, kicking the door open and laying her down on the bed. Their touches were eager and desperate, almost as much as the first time they were intimate together. Clothes were soon discarded all over the floor, hands began roaming and caressing their most intimate parts of their bodies and soon enough, the sound of skin slapping, heavy breathing and panting were the only things that could be heard in those 4 walls.

Yunho pulled Y/N up against him, her back now pressed against his sweaty chest as he continued to slam his hips against hers. One of his hands that was busy groping her breast trailed down her abdomen and stopped when they felt the prominent bulge that was on her lower stomach. Taking one of her hands, he made her press down against it.

"Feel that doll? Feel my huge cock deep inside you?"

Y/N whimpered loudly as he spoke and as he sped his movements up. Yunho couldn't help the teasing giggle that escaped his lips.

"You always were my tiny little doll...so small and fragile, yet always taking my cock like a champ."

His praise made her clench her walls around his thick length, making Yunho temporarily lose the pace he was going at.

"F-fuck doll. Clench around me like that and I might not last any longer."

Always up for testing him, she purposefully clenched harder around him, her eyes looking back at him teasingly. Yunho knew she always loved defying him just to see how far he'll go and he truthfully loved it. That unruly, free spirit in her that manifested itself even in the littlest of things, just made him fall even more for her.

His hand snaked up and wrapped itself around her neck, squeezing lightly for the time being but it was still enough to have her gasping. His other hand, went down to work on her clit, fingers rubbing expertly on it so that it'd have her cumming in a few moments.

"Y-Yunho-" tried saying but he gripped her neck tighter, effectively cutting off what she was going to say.

"Go ahead, cum all over my cock. I want to feel you all over me again. Fuck! I can't wait to fill this pussy up with my cum again. Can you do that for me doll? Hmm? Can you be a good little, tiny doll and cum all over this huge cock of mine?"

Not being able to hold back anymore, Y/N's body shuddered against Yunho's, quivering and spasming as an overwhelming orgasm ripped through her, shouting Yunho's name as if it was a mantra. Yunho let go of her neck, his hands gripping her hips as he fucked himself into his own orgasm, his face buried in the back of her neck as her tight walls milked him out of his cum, some of it already pouring down her inner thighs.

"Shit..." Yunho stammered once he calmed down.

Pulling out of Y/N, he made sure she didn't collapse on the bed, instead he turned her around and helped her to lay down. Her hands rubbed at her lower stomach.

"I'm definitely feeling that tomorrow." She joked, making both of them laugh.

After making sure they were both cleaned up, they ended up just laying down on the bed, holding onto each other, casually talking about everything and nothing.

"Do you remember our first night together?"

Yunho couldn't help but smile fondly at the memory.

"How can I forget? You were so nervous and so adorable." He remembered.

"How was I not supposed to be nervous? You and your size intimidated me."

Yunho laughed at that.

"I know. I remember when you looked down in between my legs and asked 'how is that gonna fit inside me'?"

"Shut up! I was an innocent baby back then." She huffed, her lips forming a small pout.

"You may not be so innocent anymore...but you're still my cute little baby."

Leaning in, he kissed her forehead as he adjusted them into a spooning position, his legs tangling around hers as well. He drew circles around her arm, his head full of thoughts and worries, but he didn't hesitate to say:

"Y/N? Can I ask you something?"

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

The whole party was in turmoil. It was already 15 minutes past the time to start the rehearsal and the groom was nowhere to be seen. The bride and her party looked agitated and pissed off, while the groomsmen just looked at each other, trying to decipher what was going on.

"Do you think he got in an accident?" Yeosang immediately thought the worse.

"Don't say those things you idiot. That's how you catch bad luck." Seonghwa told him.

"Superstitious nonsense." Wooyoung shook his head.

Just then, Mingi walked in the room, all eyes immediately upon him since he was the groom's best man. He bowed to everyone before stating:

"Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming here and attending this rehearsal, I'm sure it took dedication and arrangements on your part to be able to be here...

But I regret to inform you all that there will be no wedding."

A collective gasp was heard from more than half of the attendants. The bride and her parents paled in horror at Mingi's words. Jieun stormed up to him, her pretty features contorted into rage as she confronted Mingi.

"What do you mean Song Mingi? Where is Yunho?"

Mingi merely smirked and turned around, not bothering to stay another minute and ignoring the chaos that was about to ensue in that hall.

"Besides.... I have a friend I promised to join soon."

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

The couple stared at the glittering lights of the city as they finished their ice cream bars on the hood of the car. It was almost midnight, but they were far from being tired even though they had only arrived there by plane a few hours ago.

"Is this anything like what you had planned?"

Yunho quickly shook his head.

"Nope. But trust me, I love this way more."

Taking her hand in his, he ran his thumb across the silver band that now adorned the third finger on her left hand.

"And I love you my darling wife."

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

498 notes · View notes

greatbigbellies · 3 years

Text

Another continuation of THESE TWO stories. In part three, Leo finds himself even MORE pregnant than last time. Will he still fit in his living room? Find out! Contains allusions to sex, (basically) rapid preg, hyperpregnancy, weight gain, and belly worship. Enjoy!

Leo looked himself over in his full length mirror, in awe at just how much his body had changed over the last two and a half years. It had been about six months since he had successfully delivered he and Marko’s 50 beautiful kids, and as much as his body had recovered, it had also changed as well. His chest was noticeably larger, but even more so was his hips, widened by his extraordinary pregnancy. Some of the pregnancy weight had stuck too, giving him much thicker thighs and a squishier booty. Overall, he was significantly more pear shaped than when he’d started, and overall, he was okay with that. Marko certainly didn’t mind…

Leo smirked. “I can feel you staring,” he said, able to sense when Marko was ogling him. Marko stepped through te door with a playful sigh, “I still don’t know how you do that. I didn’t make a sound!” he said, stepping up next to Leo, pulling him in by his waist. Marko kissed the top of Leo’s head, causing Leo to smooch him on the cheek, in turn. “What’s going through your mind hon? You’ve been checking yourself out in the mirror for almost ten minutes now,” asked Marko. Leo sighed, “I dunno babe… I’m just… is it weird that I really, REALLY miss being pregnant?” he asked.

Marko shook his head, placing a hand on Leo’s flat, empty tummy. “You carried those little guys for two years, you kinda got used to it…” he smiled, “Besides, we both really enjoyed ourselves with it...” Their gazes met in a loving, slightly charged eye contact, and Leo began picking up on the signals Marko was sending. “Would you… be up for doing it again?” Marko finally asked. Leo’s mouth curled into a mischievous grin, “Only if we can go bigger this time?” he asked. Now it was Marko’s turn to smile, “Like… time and a half?” he asked. Leo shook his head, “Bigger,” “...double?” “A LOT bigger,” Markos eyes went wide.

“Babe you were full of 50 last time, how much bigger do you want to go!?” asked Marko incredulously. “Why don’t we set ourselves up with fertility treatments, and see where life takes us? Numbers and quotas aren’t sexy, chance is sexy,” Marko’s breath grew a little shaky, “Are you sure you can handle going bigger this time?” Leo smiled, “I’m excited to push my boundaries!” he replied.

Marko pulled him in for a deep kiss, “Your ambition is also sexy,” he whispered. Leo stood on his tiptoes and whispered back into Marko’s ear, “Then what say you we get to work tonight?” he offered. Marko scooped him up in his strong arms, carrying him bride style and turning toward their bed, “I thought you’d never ask!”

And get to work they did. Frequent trips to the local fertility clinic and regular “sessions” in bed quickly showed that Leo’s ability to conceive mid-pregnancy had not waned, but actually increased, much to the surprise of medical experts everywhere. As the two experimented, hey found that Leo was growing SO pregnant that one could actually see him slowly grow larger by the second after the couple had fooled around, a fact Leo would take some time to adjust to…

2 months later

“Are you sure you don’t want to just… email the guy?” asked Marko, a little worriedly, in the drivers seat of the couple’s van. “I want to at least attend ONE class in person, even if I’m too big for the desks!” replied Leo from the passengers seat, squeezed between the back of the chair and the glove compartment. His belly, while still in the first trimester, had ballooned to look quintuplet heavy, and that was a conservative estimate. In order to maintain some modesty at his size, he wore a sleek, black, belly support belt, which covered his underbelly. Over that were dress slacks, which paired well with his maternity button-up dress shirt. The shirt only BARELY reached to the hem of the support belt, but overall, he looked sharp, and it was clear an attempt was made.

“I know you want to take some classes and eventually earn a degree, but… aren’t you making it a little hard for yourself like this?” asked Marko. Leo shook his head, “Naw hon, it’s all part of my master plan. See, I waddle in like THIS,” he gave his belly a hearty pat, “and gain instant sympathy, then I tell the instructor I’m growing too large to get around, and he’ll switch me to his online course, AND grade everything I do with a curve! Because clearly the tired, hugely pregnant guy is doing his best!” Leo grinned a troublesome grin, “meanwhile I’m stuffing my face, getting foot rubs, and half-assing all of my assignments for easy college credits!” Marko shook his head, a little exasperated. “You’re such a little slytherin,” he said, getting out of the car.

He circled around and opened the door for Leo, helping him get to his feet. He gave him a little smooch on the head for luck, “You don’t think our little escapade before you got dressed for this is going to be a problem, do you?” he asked. Leo shrugged, “more belly, more sympathy,” he replied with a little smirk, before turning to waddle away. Marko turned on his heel, and shifted back into the divers seat. He wondered if Leo could make it through the whole class. “He’s grown to love the attention though,” he said to himself, “So maybe he’ll be okay…”

Leo DID love the attention. Compared to his outing at the mall so very long ago, the pregnant man had come to revel in the stares he received. Sure, some were stares of confusion, but more so there were stares of admiration, and curiosity. In some rarer cases, he even noticed a couple stares of jealousy, and a little lust. Leo knew full well that Marko wasn’t the only person into sizable midriffs, he just wasn’t expecting to see so many others. And he could certainly tell who was who in this case. The stolen glances and subdued blushes were all the proof he needed.

When he reached the classroom and stepped through the door, his sizable belly entered before the rest of him, and immediately he was the center of attention. The space was set up like a theatre, with rows of seats lined up, bolted to the floor, with little folding desks built into the arm rests. Cautiously, Leo made his way down the shallow steps toward a middle row, his tummy blocking his view of his feet, making each step a little more treacherous than he liked. He squeezed into a spot toward the right side of the room, close to the door so he could leave easily.

Leo’s wide hips and ass meant he filled the WHOLE seat, with a little overflow, and the front of his tummy brushed against the back of the seat in front of him. He was really starting to feel his size. The other students were clearly trying to be polite, but it wasn’t a secret they were all eyeing him, all secretly wondering if he’d go into labor right then and there. If only they knew… thought Leo with a smirk.

He tried unfolding the desk to write on, but… his oversized belly just got in the way. He tried everything short of brute force to try to get it to unfold for use, but alas, he took up too much space. He shrugged, and grabbed his notebook from his bag, resigned to use his belly shelf as a table. That was when he felt something shift deep within his body. “Oh no,” he whispered.

He’d started growing again. Marko had been right.

Leo realized that maybe sex right before class wasn’t such a great idea, but it was too late now. Leo felt his button up shirt grow increasingly tight, and the stitches on his slacks and belly belt strain as his body stretched for new occupants. He fought against the friction of is own thighs against the arm rests as he tried to get up, the slowly increasing weight of his belly not doing him any favors. He felt something rip, and jerked up rapidly in response, which just caused a button on his shirt to pop off. PING! It bounced off of the whiteboard, and Leo felt a blush of embarrassment roll across his face.

Everyone was actively staring now, and Leo needed to vacate, quickly. Turning with a wide breadth, he started waddling back up the steps. PING! Another button popped off as his belly belt rode down, exposing more of his bare, pale tummy. He threw his notebook back in his bag and dug for his phone, needing to get ahold of Marko. He could feel his pregnant belly slowly stretch itself bigger, and for the first time, Leo wondered if they overdid it on the fertility drugs.

He burst through the door with surprising speed for a man in his condition, and finally found his cell. Speed dialing Marko, he heard his belly belt pop a little with each step, the elastic failing as he continued to grow. “C’mon, c’mon, pick up!” he pleaded. Leo felt his belly start to widen out, and realized that his belly belt was just growing too tight to be safe. Taking a deep breath, he yanked the belt down, causing his huge and heavy tummy to flop downward form the lack of support.

“Hello? Is everything okay?” Marko finally picked up. “No! This was a mistake! I started growing in class and I’m too big for everything now! Come pick me up!” Leo hissed into the receiver, trying not to make any more of a scene. “Alright, just, go to where I dropped you off, I’ll be right there!” Leo hung up and began waddling toward the exit, his tummy swaying a little more with each heavy step. He could feel his weight increasing as he moved, and swore his midriff wasn’t the only thing swelling up.

He left the college building just in time to watch Marko pull up, getting out to open the car door for his poor husband. Marko’s eyes grew wide when he saw how much Leo had grown in such a short span of time. He ran to meet him halfway and help Leo back to the van. Right as Leo sat down fully, he felt his slacks split open at the seams on the side, letting out a resounding RRRRRIIIP! As his thighs became exposed. Marko quickly shut the door to preserve any privacy Leo still had, and scurried back to the drivers side, hopping in and driving away.

Leo’s hands covered his face as his cheeks burned with a vibrant blush. He couldn’t believe he’d let that happen. “Are… you okay hon?” asked Marko. Leo nodded, his hands not leaving his face. “Yeah… I’m just going to switch to online classes and never show my face there again. It’s fine,” he whimpered. Marko felt bad for him, that had to be embarrassing. “Would… some ice cream make you feel better?” he offered. Leo slid his hands down, giving Marko the cutest look. “A gallon of sherbet would be nice…” he replied. Marko smirked, “...and some tummy rubs while you eat it?” he sweetened the deal.

“Mhmmm…” “...and… maybe a little more than just a tummy rub?” Marko offered. Leo smiled for the first time since he got in the car. “You know that’s what got us into this mess,” said Leo. “I know… but we’re out of this mess, and you said it yourself, you’re going to switch to online right away. What’s the harm?” Leo, without breaking eye contact, firmly gripped the sides of his shirt, and pulled them apart, popping the rest of the buttons. “You just wanna get your hands on this tummy, don’t’cha?” he teased. Marko turned bright red, and sped up the car. He had ice cream to get.

5 months later

“You think it was a bit much to rent out an entire theatre for just us?” asked Leo, his massive, gravid form slowly squeezing through the double doors. “Not at all, we’re sneaking in 95 extra people, I’d say we’re getting our money’s worth!” joked Marko, helping Leo navigate the tight confines of the wide movie theatre halls. Leo’s belly, now the size of a small car, was supported by a makeshift frame with rotatable wheels, with a soft pillowy top to make it more comfortable. It creaked under the massive weight of Leo’s pregnant belly, which audibly sloshed with amniotic fluid. Thankfully, the ramp down to the center seats was wide, though Leo could still feel the walls brush against the sides of his tummy.

“Alright, gonna turn you left now,” warned Marko as he walked to the side of Leo’s belly, squeezing between it and the wall. With more grunting than he was proud of, he turned Leo 90 degrees to the side, meaning he could now move forward down to their spot, smack in the center of the empty theatre, the perfect view. “I’m not TOO pregnant, am I?” asked Leo, seeing how out of breath Marko was after the effort. “Nonsense -HUFF- honey, in fact, I intend to make you -HUFF- even more so tonight!” he teased in response.

Leo’s footfalls were slow, but heavy, as his gravid body had swelled pretty much everywhere but his face. His ass and hips were wide enough for two seats, and his breasts had expanded considerably in order to ramp up milk production for later. Really, even with his mammoth midriff, he was still a sight to behold. After what felt like ages, they had finally reached the center-most seats. Leo noticed an extra wide one had been installed at a 90 degree angle, allowing him to sit comfortably and watch the film without being blocked by his belly.

“How did you pull this off?” Asked Leo. Marko winked. “I have my ways,” he answered. Leo slowly lowered himself into the seat, the soft cushions feeling good on his aching, pregnant body. He sighed in relief, happy to get off of his feet, and just reveled in being pampered by his husband to the point of theatre remodeling. He felt special. “This whole experience would really go well with some carmel corn… OH or some red vines!” Leo began feeling the pangs of pregnancy cravings.

Marko’s proud smile grew into a smug grin as he slid past Leo’s gargantuan belly, shuffling around in some bags. “What’s you doing hon?” asked Leo. Marko quickly made his way back to a place Leo could reach, before handing him a bag of caramel corn, and a drum of red vines. “I had a feeling you would want these,” Leo took the candy and gestured for Marko to lean forward, which he did, before placing a playful little peck of a kiss on his nose. “You’re adorable. Now sit down, the lights are dimming!

Marko took his seat next to his massive husband, a hand idly resting on the pregnant belly as the lights went out and the film began, kicking off a lovely evening.

8 months later

Leo was glad they had such an open floor plan in their house. Not only did it add a lot of brightness to the space, but it gave him a place within the house where he could FIT. Now carrying somewhere in the neighborhood of 270 to 300 babies, the doctors aren’t sure on specifics, his astoundingly large belly had the volume of a city bus, though retained a vaguely orbular shape. He’d been immobile for a while now, though aside from some cabin fever, Marko was able to provide everything he needed to be happy. Marko was now a stellar cook, and was great at getting what Leo wanted before the man even had to ask for it.

Right now though, Marko was relaxing, playing on his switch and lounging, where else, but atop Leo’s gigantic belly. At this point the widened apex of tummy skin was less of a shelf and more of a mattress, and the large curve of skin was so warm and inviting to Marko. He’d seen every inch of this belly countless times, but he as still amazed at it. Marko’s nightly cocoa butter rubs had been doing their job, as Leo didn’t have a single stretchmark on his person, even when carrying around 300 babies.

“How’s you town coming?” asked Leo, resting on the couch. His butt took up two cushions, and was now wide enough that it would impede passage through doorways if his tummy didn’t do that already. “Really good! I just got Audie to move in! And my garden looks so cute!” Leo pursed his lips in thought, “Which one is Audie? Is she the fox one?” he asked. “I mean… she’s ‘supposed’ to be a wolf but she looks like a fox…” replied Marko. He gently sat up, scooting to the left broadside of Leo’s tummy, and sliding down, nintendo switch in hand. He landed with a solid THUNK and walked over to Leo’s side. “You know that’s got to be hell on your knees,” advised Leo. Marko shrugged, “You’re not wrong, but like… it’s so fun to do that,”

Leo jokingly rolled his eyes and looked at the handheld screen, taking in Marko’s painstakingly curated garden. “Are those… trans pride colors?” asked Leo, pointing to a strip of blue, pink, and white along the right side of the flower beds. Marko grinned. “Yeah, that section is for you! And if you count, I have 52 total flowers in place, two for us, and 50 for the kids!” The pair smiled warmly. “You’re going to need a MUCH bigger garden here in about a week…” said Leo, his hands resting on his massive boobs, pushed to the sides by his even more massive tummy.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve already started stockpiling more...” Marko trailed off. “Something on your mind, honey?” asked Leo. Marko shook his head slowly, before changing his tune. “I’m just… really, REALLY, going to miss this tummy of yours. And I’m trying to think of how to make the most of these last few days without seeming too needy, y’know?” he explained. Leo sighed and smiled. “Honey you’re NOT needy for wanting some extra tummy time before I pop. If anything I’M the needy one in this relationship. You do all the work! I just sit here and gestate!” Marko blushed. “I mean yeah but being pregnant is work in and of itself, especially THIS pregnant! Like I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Leo placed a hand on Marko’s shoulder. He would have used both hands, but he couldn’t reach past his own chest.

“Marko. My love. You have my full, complete, and enthusiastic permission do to whatever you would like to with my belly, for the next seven days. Whether is be painting again, massaging, dressing up, touching, lotioning… whatever. Go absolutely nuts babe. Consider it a gift for taking such good care of me!” said Leo. Marko’s eyes glittered and cheeks flushed bright red at the possibilities. He giddily bounced in place, “Are you sure?! You can rescind that offer at any point, it’s okay!” Marko said in a fast, excited tempo. Leo nodded. “I know, but I don’t plan to. This is your week babe, starting right now!”

The first thing Marko did was plant a firm, deep kiss onto Leo’s lips, which Leo leaned into passionately in turn. “You’re the best babe!” Marko said, bolting around to the front of Leo’s gargantuan belly. “What are you doing?” laughed Leo, having to shout so his voice would carry to the far end of his tum. “This!” Marko pressed his whole body into Leo’s belly, his hand working its way to his popped navel. He began rubbing tiny circles around it, occasionally stopping to poke it. Leo was sensitive there, and Marko knew it.

At the same time, he began planting kisses of increasing duration over Leo’s taught skin, which riled up some movement from inside. “Oohhh, they seem to like that…” said Leo. “do you?” asked Marko. Leo paused, “...Yeah,” Marko began alternating between kissing and licking Leo’s distended, hyperpregnant midriff, eliciting groans and coos of pleasure from Leo. Marko then did something he never had before, and left a delightful little hickey on the aft of Leo’s tummy. He stopped, waiting for a response. A few long seconds passed before Leo asked “did you just… give me a hickey?” Marko blushed so hard you could hear it in his voice. “Maybe… I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to. I know you pride yourself on your blemishless tumm-” “Do it again,”

Now Marko paused. “You sure? Cause I’m gonna get really into it…” “That felt like nothing I’ve ever had before. Please do it again,” Leo responded. Marko didn’t hesitate to fulfill his request, and left three more in semi-rapid succession, before retuning to kissing and affectionately worshipping the belly. It was going to be a good week for Marko.

#commissions #writing #not bellies #anonymous

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politijohn · 3 years

Note

I find this interesting. I’m a social science major myself (history) with interest in the other similar topics (political science, economics and sociology.) While we do share similarities, we also are vastly different in opinions.

I’m independent and according to most sources, more left leaning independent. So while I have my criticisms against Republican and many right leaning individuals, I believe that the whole system is corrupt. Democrats, Republicans, independents, every politician is against the good of the people. So to see that you will defend some of the politicians is a major divide in our views. I don’t think that pure leftist believes are the solution to the world’s problems and a pure conserve mindset will leave us in a stalemate of a society.

Instead of progressing and accomplishing anything in a political sense, we’re in a cold civil war where instead of gun shots we’ll find ourselves trapped in a technological warfare. Instead of coming together, I find everyone prepare themselves for the insults and childish antics of opposition. I myself have been called a Russian bot for simply correcting someone about false information that they were spreading.

So while I can see we share some similarities in interests, we differ greatly in terms of ideology. I find this bit to be quite interesting.

The entire political system is corrupt, I agree. But I can’t maintain the nihilistic view that every single politician or political candidate is equally bad and therefore no one is worth supporting. I’d rather have 100 Bernie Sanders than 100 Ted Cruz’s in Office, and I recognize that even that wouldn’t resolve all our problems. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make substantial progress by uplifting those politicians who are at least trying to reconstruct the system to be more equitable so better progress can be made in the future. Changes such as publicly funded elections/media, criminal justice reform, and a more just tax code all level the playing field for a true democratic system. There are politicians fighting for those things, despite the system they’re working in being deeply flawed and making change very difficult.

I must force the question - what’s the tangible alternative? Because an armed revolution against the biggest police state in the world is much less feasible

#asks #politics

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Text

Closets & Wendy’s.

“Last day of Pride!”

Dean projects himself onto Cas’s bed, ending up sprawled on his front, with an arm slung over Cas’s lap.

On receiving no more greeting than Cas’s hand landing in his hair and starting to card through it, he lifts his face from the comforter, props himself up on his elbows - chin tucked in a palm - and stares at his boyfriend.

Cas looks upset.

The corners of his lips tilt passively downwards, eyebrows carrying most of the weight of his frown.

“Cas?” Dean asks, neutrally - already regretting his overhyped entrance.

“I’m sorry- I don't feel -”

Words fade out, and Cas pauses. Then he turns to actually look at Dean, the sadness seeped into his eyes, and Dean doesn’t waste a moment getting up, knee-waddling over into Cas’s space and pulling him close.

Cas comes easily, planting his head on Dean’s shoulder, and exhaling a tired breath when Dean runs a hand over his back.

“What are you feeling?” Dean asks, after a beat, now trying to soothe Cas’s tense shoulders, rubbing gently over the cotton. Cas leans into his touch.

About three years of therapy, and nearly six years of being roommates - undergrads, and then actual friggin’ grad school - with Cas, basically Dean’s personal mascot for healthy communication, has led him to definitely know that it’s always a better alternative to talk about what you are going through, instead of what you aren’t.

(Or, you know, what you think you should be, just because your dumb, insensitive boyfriend who’s been obsessed with Pride since finally coming out and-slash-or best-friending up with Charlie Bradbury, is. And rather loudly, at that, because Dean Winchester’s a goddamn idiot.)

“Disappointment.” Cas says, morosely, but almost as soon as he hears his own words, he rephrases. “Uh. I’m the disappointment.”

“Well, did you secretly sneak out and mark yourself absent for the entire semester in all your 4.0 GPA classes when I wasn’t looking?”

“Dean.”

“Fine, 3.7.” Dean throws back. “Big friggin’ deal, nerd.” Cas lets out a huff of breath which almost resembles a chuckle, and Dean squeezes his arm around Cas. “You know that would’ve totally been a four if I’d been less distracting.”

“Interesting.” Cas corrects.

“Hot.” Dean throws back, just because he knows it’ll make Cas crinkle into one of his fond ‘what-do-I-do-with-you’ smiles. It does.

“Perfect.” And Cas throws in a sigh, as if to solidify his point, and leans in to nuzzle Dean’s neck in a way so intensely Cas, that if anyone else had ever tried it, he’d either end up being tickled to death, or running the hell out of dodge.

“We’re on you right now, Cheesy McCheesington.” Dean smiles back, and goes on.

He’s not willing to let Cas close up into a ball of repressed emotions with happy only on the outside. That’s way more Dean’s thing - or rather, used to be. He knows he’s bettered his coping mechanisms. Mostly because every part of his life involves Cas now, and anything with Cas is good.

They’ve grown a lot together - grown through a lot as well, and this is how they’ve done it. By talking through, the Castiel way. It still throws Dean off sometimes, how far they’ve gotten.

So when Cas whines in protest into Dean’s shirt, he knows exactly how to turn it into a side-hug. One of those, where they end up staring at each other from a three-inch distance.

Staring hard, Dean says it. “You’re the farthest thing from a disappointment, Cas. To anyone.”

The lecturers all adored him, their friends made it a point to keep proclaiming their affection out loud (thank god for Charlie Bradbury and co.), and Dean doesn’t think he could be more proud of Cas if he tried.

He was a goddamn wonder.

He’d gone from a lanky, private-schooled, what’s-a-Star-War schmuck to one of Dean’s favorite people in the world. He was hilarious, and a genius, and kind. He’d grown into his shoulders, and into a stubbly kind of an age, and into this awesome, intelligent, pancake-making man of Dean’s dreams, and into his bee obsessions and organizational neatness - and complete, total perfection.

(Dean needs him, appreciates him, and (not that subtly - to his credit), loves him in a forever sort of way.)

But before Dean’s properly began to remind Cas of any of it, he’s interrupted.

“I’m disappointing me, Dean.”

There’s resignation in his tone, and evidence in every word he says.

“June’s over. Again. And for all the marching with painted cheeks and the megaphones? For all the parades, and the celebrations of our identities, the togetherness, the being proud of being ourselves?” Cas lets out, bitterly, and Dean realizes he knows where Cas is going with this. “And I still haven’t come out to my family.”

Dean waits, sure that Cas isn’t finished.

“How have I not done it yet?” Cas hisses, and it almost startles him - he’s swapped the upset for angry. It’s rarer. “I’ve known since I was a teenager - and we’ll have been together for five years in three months, Dean, and I just - I cannot believe I still can’t do it.”

He sounds helpless, and Dean wants to jump in, but he needs Cas to get the words out first.

“What’s the matter with me? Am I not brave enough, or strong enough - or am I still hanging onto the hope that they’ll suddenly become better human beings and not disown me when I tell them?” Cas scoffs.

He’s pissed at himself.

“Maybe I still lack, as you say, free will.”

Dean has to step in at that. “That was six years ago, and you know I wouldn’t say it now.”

“Why not?” Cas challenges. “I couldn’t tell them then, either. I clearly haven’t changed.”

“Other things, Cas.” Dean says, and grits his teeth. This isn’t supposed to be them yelling. Cas is frustrated, and Dean’s listening - he can’t be frustrated back at him for the way he expresses it. “Other things have changed.”

Cas gives him a look, but Dean holds his end of it until it crumbles. Cas changes his offense. Mellows down - probably when he sees Dean’s restraint. “This is important to me. I want to do it. Then why can’t I tell them?”

He’s asking himself, but he’s also asking the only person who knows him as well as he knows himself, yet he’s also not asking at all - simultaneously, it’s also rhetorical.

Dean licks his lips.

“Whatever be the answer to that, Cas, first things first. This doesn’t imply you’re not proud enough.”

Cas looks away.

“Or, for that matter, not panromantic or demisexual enough.”

Sigh. Shuffle, shift. And then he looks back up at Dean. The tears weren’t there before. “How do you know, Dean?”

“‘Cause I know this doesn’t decide that.”

“Why not?” Cas says, quietly.

“‘Cause,” He repeats. “How queer you are isn’t measured on a scale of how soon you come out once you know.” He pauses, judges the air. “It usually isn’t measured at all, unless we’re talking about a magical thing known as the Kinsey Scale.”

He judged right.

Cas coughs, and it’s definitely to disguise a reluctant snicker.

“And you know, even if it were measured on the weird first thing,” Dean adds, serious again. “There’d totally be a different clause, and a separate key, mind you, for the people with douchebag families.”

“They prefer conservative, I think.” Cas says, smally, after an entire minute, as if he’d actually been rerunning Dean’s speech in his head for that long.

Dean shrugs.

Cas almost smiles. He’s calmed down.

“The strange thing is that it makes no sense.” He begins, heavy, albeit less severe on himself. “I’m twenty six. We co-own this apartment, and we pay our bills. We’re completely independent.” It never stops sounding surreal. That’s for another time. “Mother calls me on third Sundays, Gabriel sends Christmas cards. Other than that, I only spend Thanksgiving lunches with them, each year more horrible than the last. I know I wouldn’t miss any of them, nor regret being written out of the will. Or have my Novak cemetery spot passed onto Michael’s oldest. Or the gardener.”

Dean snorts at that. The Novaks are truly something else.

“There is no reason I can’t just come out. I just -” Cas cuts into his own sentence with a sigh, one signifying that he’s finally done speaking, and he reclaims Dean’s shoulder once more.

What’s important right now, is to make him feel better. A resolution to this isn’t within grasp at the moment, and Cas sounds drained. Dean - well, he does what he does best. He segues.

“Wait.” Cas lifts his head. “You didn’t actually say you’re not out, did you?”

Cas squints at him.

“Dude. Being out doesn’t just mean telling your family. And getting subjected to toxicity and trauma, by means of it.” Dean points out, earnest. By that logic, courtesy of a long-dead mom, and a relatively-shorter-dead dad, he’s in the closet as well. “Hell, you put your hand in my back pocket at KFC, yesterday.”

“Oh.” Cas blinks.

Dean grins, and Cas’s surprise makes it easy to do so. “You bet my publicly grabbed ass, it counts.”

Cas knows it counts. He knows everything that counts. But he indulges himself, and he indulges Dean - his bad mood slowly dissipating. “What else?”

“You kissed me at Wendy’s last week.” Dean informs him, eyebrows raised. “Held my hand for a really long time in a Starbucks queue on Saturday. Oh, and all the gay bars count, buddy. Especially the bits where we grind on the dance floor, and then I blow you in the stall.”

Cas opens his mouth to protest that has only happened once, but Dean meets his eyes with a pointed look. He’s got to bring it up.

“Every time I’ve ever taken you to a steak joint counts too. ‘Cause trust me, those are always dates, whether you know it or not.”

“Long drives are a date to you.” Cas deadpans.

“Yeah, and Baby will never say you’re not out.” Dean throws back, and Cas actually makes it to a smile this time. Dean’s left feeling accomplished. (And sort of dazed, because it’s going to take a lot more than six years for him to get used to Cas being so easily beautiful, and being it right next to him.)

“You said you loved me for the first time at the Roadhouse.” Cas says.

Dean blushes.

“And then you ran away before I could react, got really drunk and karaoke’d I’m Too Sexy on the stage, and passed out on my lap right as I tried to say it back to you.”

This is definitely not his favorite story, but it always lights Cas up, and that’s all that matters, really - so he rolls his eyes half-heartedly and Cas smiles wider.

Silence prevails for a moment.

“Look.” Dean ends up being the one to break it. Cas listens, hanging onto each word. “You’re the only one who knows why you can’t do it, okay? My best guess would be an internalized decision to avoid conflict. Maybe you call your old therapist tomorrow - like, I dunno, a cameo from Castiel, unresolved coming-out issues sorta thing. Of course, we can talk about it too. Get six cheeseburgers and twelve beers, and figure things out on your own. But it’s up to you.” Cas exhales into a little smile. “All I know is, it doesn’t matter to anyone that you haven’t told your family, if it doesn’t matter to you.

Cas nods, a couple of times, and there’s the barest hint of tears again, but this time doesn’t make Dean want to punch God.

It makes him want to hug Cas, so he goes for it.

“Even if you were in the closet, Cas? I’d say the same.” Dean adds, as an afterthought, about a minute into a hug which doesn’t seem to be nearing an end. Not really. No one minds, so there’s that. “This community, this month - everything about Pride is about all of us, and if Charlie’s ever called me handmaiden, trust me she’s said this a million times. It means everyone. Includes people in the closet, every bit as those who’re out.”

Cas hums in agreement, and tilts his head against Dean’s.

“In any case,” Dean teases. “Your family’s over in Illinois, anyways. Here, where it counts? You’re as out as you can be.”

“I could kiss you in more Wendy’s.” Cas contemplates, because he’s awesome like that.

“What has Burger King ever done to you?”

Dean listens to him considering it with a thoughtful note, and mutters a “Dork.” It helps keep him grounded for he feels like he’s floating right now - ‘cause there’s something about the way Cas holds onto him. Tighter.

Like somehow, even after all this time, they managed to fall a little more in love today.

And somehow, they’ll keep doing it forever.

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crawlingtowardchrist · 3 years

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Hello. What advice do you have for a 25 year old woman who is trying to get into religion as a whole? I don’t come from church goers, don’t believe I’ve ever been baptized either and am leaving all pagan connections behind. I have 6 tattoos, all of which I can comfortably hide with clothing, but like I have what could be turned into a half sleeve.

Spirituality has been nothing but emptiness. The more I tried to find a group that would accept me the more alone and empty I felt. I was not one comfortable with practicing magic so that left me as an outcast to most and because I’m conservative the rest all but want me dead (liberal witches are kinda insane). The in fighting is mind boggling at times and no one can agree on holidays or important history that is genuinely important and not some made up junk used by a sex cultist.

I feel so lost at times. I was a sick kid growing up and was so angry with god for making me sick. So I denounced religion and god and decided to be as rebellious as I could.

First of all, I'm glad you decided to pursue religion and reject paganism. I can only really speak on Catholic specific advice, but I'm sure some of these points will apply to other Christian religions. I wasn't sure what you meant by religion as a whole, because there are many different religions out there, but since you mentioned Baptism and God, and since I really do believe Catholicism is the correct religion, I will speak to that.

The first thing to remember is that God loves you very much. He has this incredible love that no other being could match, and He loves each and every one of us so incredibly profoundly. So as you're feeling this pull to learn more about Christianity, I want you to realize that God is pulling you toward His loving arms.

The next thing you need to know is that you do really need to reject everything to do with paganism. Christians do not and cannot serve any other gods, because there is only one God. He has three persons, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but all three persons are one being. The Bible and our teaching tells us that every pagan god is not actually a god, but a demon masquerading as something more than they actually are. That's awesome that you weren't comfortable practicing magic, because Christians cannot do this either.

I know that your suffering has put you at odds with God in the past, this is the case with many people. I have certainly been angry with God when I was younger and incredibly lonely. One thing I have learned is that God is there with us in every suffering, feeling everything with us and helping us through it. There's a complicated answer for why suffering exists, and I'm not the best at explaining it. I can say that suffering is a part of life and is necessary, because otherwise Jesus would not have had to suffer so much for us. Jesus also did not try to mince words or beat around the bush with this, He told us we would suffer in this life. He didn't lie and say we would have perfect lives full of happiness. Christ doesn't lie, and is all truth. That may be a small comfort when you take a look at your sickness in the past, but it is important to consider and think about.

I can attest that Catholic spirituality is very fulfilling. It helps us understand how and why we are here. When you learn how important you are to the greatest and most powerful being, who created the expansive and massive universe, you really understand that you are important. What other god dies for you, no matter how many terrible things you might do? What other god makes demons tremble in fear at the mere mention of His name, Jesus? I think what makes Catholicism so fulfilling is it forces us to take a look at ourselves and ask why we reject God. He is all loving and desperately wants us to be with Him. So if we don't feel close it's because of some attachment we have to worldly things, or some vice or sin that is actually bringing us down and destroying us. Catholicism is a realization that we are indeed human, and because of that we have flaws, flaws that need to be worked on. The thing is, since we are so flawed, we really can't do it on our own. We need Christ to make us better, and to bring us closer. So we find ourselves figuring out what is keeping us from God, and asking God to help us with those, and also choosing to do better. Catholic spirituality is deeply personal and intimate with God, a constant conversation with someone who deeply loves you, and that is precisely why I find it so fulfilling.

As far as Baptism goes, you need to speak with a priest to go through a program called RCIA. This is a program that teaches converts about Catholicism. I was a cradle Catholic, so I don't really know what this program was like, but there are certainly some people on this site that can tell you more. Baptism is a part of this program. Baptism is also very important, and is considered an initiation into Christianity. Through Baptism you are marked forever as a child of God, which is a beautiful thing.

I wouldn't worry too much about the tattoos, it's not like you can erase them. And tattoos in general are not necessarily wrong, unless they are specifically pagan or a different religion than Christianity. But even if they're just secular tattoos, they're not really a problem. Just remember they were a part of your past, not your present. They can even serve as a reminder of where you came from and where you are now.

Here's some bad news. You will find in fighting in Christianity as well. There's a reason there's thousands of different denominations, Catholicism being one of them. It's a part of our fallen and broken nature, to bicker and fight, to put ourselves above others. Wherever you find a large group of people, you will find this. Any religion you go to will have fights, because every religion will have people in it. I will say that in my own denomination, while there are some fights amongst the different groups of Catholics, we do know we are all Catholic and there is family there. I think any Trad Catholic would stick up for any Novus Ordo Catholic who's attacked and vice versa. We may like to argue, but we love each other.

One last thing I would say is don't be afraid to pray to God right now. You may not be a part of a Church yet, but God still wants to talk to you and you talk to Him. He will bring you comfort and love.

Hopefully this helps! You can certainly ask more questions if you need to know more. I will pray for you that you find your way home to Christ.

#catholic #catholic church #catholicism #catholic strength #roman catholic #catholic blog #christ #christian blog #christian

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sevendeadlyvices · 3 years

Text

Poker Buddies AU: Max and Memories Notes

Something I compiled for @i-cant-thinkof-anything-new Poker Buddies AU they have going. Now I used the Poker Night wiki to get this and I thought this would be helpful for any Sam and Max or Poker Night at the Inventory Fans in general. That and I have my own Poker Night At The Inventory AU and headcannons that I need to work on too. The first information is generally Max’s poker strategy in Poker Night At The Inventory:

When it comes to reading the opponent's strategies, Max's will prove to be a big problem. Due to his lack of knowledge on the subject, his poker strategy seems non-existent. His choice of whether to call, raise, or fold tends to come out of nowhere. Sometimes, Max will or will not have a good hand, so he will be very hard to read. His strategies are completely random; he might bluff, be cautious, or be aggressive. Sometimes he will just keep on betting or keep on folding.

I would call Max an unpredictable poker player at times. There’s this tell he has that if his left hand quivers, he’s bluffing, but other than that, you’re on your own with him.

Next is his relationships with the characters of both Poker Nights:

Heavy: Max seems to have a good strong friendship with the Heavy, asking him about how his career is going and what kind of weapon he could recommend.

Strong Bad: Mostly casual, having the odd talk with Strong Bad when Max is compelled to tell some sort of story.

Tycho: His relationship with Tycho seems to be, again, a casual friendship. They share many of the same interests, although from time to time Max will be slightly put off by Tycho's odd behavior.

The Player: Max often thinks The Player plays too conservatively, especially when not calling a huge bet of Max's.

Sam: Max very much loves the big guy. Max is Sam's long-time partner, best friend, husband, and sidekick.

Brock Samson: Brock finds Max annoying like Claptrap, but also finds it much easier to ignore him, even when Max is physically attacking him. He also has some level of respect for the lagomorph for everything he and Sam overcame as members of the Freelance Police.

Claptrap: Much like Sam, Claptrap is a fan of Max for their games and comics. He seems closer to Max than Sam due to the fact that Max isn't as annoyed by him as Sam is. Max's love for violence makes the robot think he would fit in very well on Pandora. If Claptrap is knocked out before Sam, he will often sit next to Max for a while. Also, during a Showdown, Max will stand right next to Claptrap, wondering what the next card will be.

Ash Williams: Ash has considerable respect for Max and Sam's career and is otherwise "okay" with the lagomorph. However, Ash also displays a few moments of apprehension and even downright concern when Max' insanity acts up, usually in his theme eliminations.

GLaDOS: Max doesn't seem to mind the murderous AI as much as the other characters and occasionally joins in when she insults or annoys the other characters (primarily Sam).

This is from the wiki, so take this with a grain of salt.

And finally, with spoilers in the cut:

The Memories I would focus on for the Epic Texas Hold Em Matches! Note that it’s not all the conversations from both games, but here’s the ones I found so far that might be interesting to incorporate for the AU. I’ll bold the ones that would seem more angsty for the AU:

Max: I don't know a lot about card games, truth be told. But, I take it you're a little bit of a beginner, yes? Strong Bad: Are you talking to (pronounces it as moy) moi? Max: You betcha. You're as green as the bologna in Sam's mini-fridge. Strong Bad: (angrily) Shut up, Stitch. Max: (cheerily) It's OK. It just means you have to adopt a wanton strategy of wild deception. Strong Bad: Hmm... Not the woist idea I ever hoid. Max: (furrows brow) Get into their heads.

Max: You know what I love? Tycho: What's that? Max: Destroying wave after wave of the undead. Tycho: WORD UP! How do you roll? Max: With my trusty side arm of course. Tycho: I'm more of an auto-shotgun guy. Max: Oooh! Heavy: This is good weapon no? Max: Sam and I had to resign ourselves to pistols when our cleaning bill started going through the roof. Tycho: Yeah, its like ichor? Oxyclean ain't cuttin' it. Max: This pelt is dry clean only.

Tycho: Max, how'd you learn to play cards? Max: Funny you should ask! This one time, Sam and I were busting up a crime syndicate down in Atlantic City. A road job. Tycho: Indeed. Max: Yeah! So we're tailing this low level mafia bum for an hour and he pulls up outside a casino and before he can go in Sam says, "Well little buddy, we better nab this guy quicker than a Pittsburgh driver taking a left on a green in rush hour." I couldn't have agreed more. So I grab a tire iron out of the back seat, right, hop out of the Desoto, and pummel this guy like a piñata. Tycho: Yow! Max: Blindfold and all! Tycho: ...That doesn't really answer my question. Max: You asked me a question?

Tycho: Hey Max, how do you like being a freelance police officer? Max: It's the best. Tycho: I bet it is. Max: Oh, but that's not all I do. I'm also available for babysitting, bat mitzvahs and general shakedowns. You know anybody who needs work? Tycho: See, this why I think we get along. You're a Renaissance man. Max: You need anybody roughed up? Tycho: There's a bird at the pet store that's been giving me a little beak, yeah. Max: Oh ho, putting a wise acre in his place is my specialty!

Heavy: I will make hat from you, little bunny. Max: How 'bout I just sit on your head and shoot people? Heavy: (thinks about this) ...This is good idea.

Heavy: Tiny Heavy, who is your favorite to kill in war? Strong Bad: Hmm, in WAR? Probably those Green Helmets. You know, the guys who don't have any cool weapons or gimmicks, and come in a discount three-pack. Heavy: To kill spy is glorious thing! How about you, Max? You are killing type. Max: My favorite enemy? {gasps} That's like asking me to choose between my children! Heavy: {laughs heartily} You crack me up, little bunny!

Heavy: You look very familiar, bunny. Max: How closely do you follow the Manhattan crime blotter? Wait, you didn't go the Spiro Agnew School of the Arts, did you? Tycho: You attended? Didn't take you for the book learnin' type. Max: No, but Sam and I pinched their gym teacher in a black market jock strap ring in the 80's. I'd be surprised if any student didn't remember a dog choking out a large man with a unibrow.

Strong Bad: I don't trust you one bit, ra-bbit. Max: It's ok, I don't trust myself. Strong Bad: How do we know that you don't have a never ending stack of aces wherever you put your gun? Max: Well, you don't, but you're welcome to look!

Strong Bad: So... Max. You're like one of those (pronounces as poke mons) poke-mons, right? Max: (narrows eyes) My genus and phylum is a mystery to all mankind. Strong Bad: Because I'd love to see some prepubescent pointy-haired kid run in here and stick you inside of a baseball (laughs). (in a high pitched voice, with a smile) That would be hilarious. Max: Are you talking about the red-capped kidnapper who terrorized the fauna on the Upper West Side for months? Strong Bad: Maybe. Max: Because Sam, Flint, and I caught him trying to stuff a chimpanzee into his knapsack, and made him cry for his mommy.

Strong Bad: I wonder if this dump is haunted? Max: (cheerily) Ooh, I hope so. There's something about being able to terrorize a spectral being without it up and dying on you that (furrows eyebrows) I just love. Heavy: (sadly, lowers his head) I do not like ghost. Max: It's OK Mr. Weapons. I've got extensive experience with zombies and vampires. (points toward himself) I can handle a little ghost. Heavy: (with large eyes) You will take care of ghost for me? Max: (cheerily) You betcha. Heavy: (cheerily, nods his head) I like you, tiny rabbit.

(Brock) GLaDOS: Brock Samson is eliminated. Max: GERONIMO! (lands on Brock's head and starts to gnaw on it, to no effect) Die, die, die! Brock: (gets up) I'll be at the bar.

(Claptrap) GLaDOS: Claptrap is eliminated due to lack of funds. Max: Wet willy, wet willy! (sticks a finger in his mouth and inserts it into a hole in Claptrap's side) Claptrap: Hey! That's not my ear, it's my... (both are electrified and fall from chair)

(Ash) GLaDOS: Ashley Williams is eliminated. Ash gets up and reaches for his chainsaw, only to realize it's not there. Max is holding it, standing a foot or so behind him. Max: (grinning maliciously) Looking for something? (looks at Sam normally) Hey, check it out, Sam! I'm a tree surgeon! Sam: (whispering to Ash) He's not really a tree surgeon...! Ash looks worried. Max: (revs up chainsaw) Open wide and say "ah!" (chases Ash away)

#Sam and Max #Sam and Max AU #Poker Buddies AU #Poker Night At The Inventory #Poker Night 2 #Max #tycho brahe #strong bad #Heavy #Ash Williams #Brock Samson #Claptrap #just wanted to share some interesting things that would make your AU better #now I'm obsessed #but Jessica you have your own Poker AU to worry about #but I like this one a lot #I hope this is okay

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cruisingthedemimonde · 3 years

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America’s Gay Men in WW2

World War Two was a “National Coming Out” for queer Americans.

I don’t think any other event in history changed the lives of so many of us since Rome became Christian.

For European queers the war brought tragedy.

The queer movement began in Germany in the 1860s when trans activist Karl Ulrichs spoke before the courts to repeal Anti-Sodomy laws. From his first act of bravery the movement grew and by the 1920s Berlin had more gay bars than Manhattan did in the 1980s. Magnus Hirschfeld’s “Scientific Humanitarian Committee” fought valiantly in politics for LGBT rights and performed the first gender affirmation surgeries. They were a century ahead of the rest of the world.

The Nazis made Hirschfeld - Socialist, Homosexual and Jew - public enemy number one.

The famous image of the Nazis burning books? Those were the books of the Scientific Humanitarian Committee. Case studies of the first openly queer Europeans, histories, diaries - the first treasure trove of our history was destroyed that day.

100,000 of us were charged with felonies. As many as 15,000 were sent to the camps, about 60% were murdered.

But in America the war brought liberation.

In a country where most people never even heard the word “homosexual” , historian John D’emilio wrote the war was “conducive both to the articulation of a homosexual identity and to the more rapid evolution of a gay subculture. (24)” The war years were “a Watershed (Eaklor 68)”

Now before we begin I need to give a caveat. The focus of this first post is not lesbians, transfolk or others in our community. Those stories have additional complexity the story of cisgender homosexual men does not. Starting with gay men lets me begin in the simplest way I can, in subsequent posts I’ll look at the rest of our community.

Twilight Aristocracy: Being Queer Before the War

I want us to go back in time and imagine the life of the typical queer American before the war. Odds are you lived on a farm and simply accepted the basic fact that you would marry and raise children as surely as you were born or would die. You would have never seen someone Out or Proud. If you did see your sexuality or gender in contrary ways you had no words to express it, odds are even your doctor had never heard the term “Homosexual. In your mind it was just a quirk, without a name or possible expression.

In the city the “Twilight Aristocracy” lived hidden, on the margins and exposed their queerness only in the most coded ways. Gay men “Dropping pins” with a handkerchief in a specific pocket. Butch women with key chains heavy enough to show she didn’t need a man to carry anything for her. A secret language of “Jockers” and “Nances” “Playing Checkers” during a night out. There is a really good article on the queer vernacular here

And these were “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”

In public one must act as straight as possible. Two people of the same gender dancing could be prosecuted. Cross dressing, even with something as trivial as a woman wearing pants, would run afoul of obscenity laws.

The only spaces we had for ourselves were dive bars, run by organized crime. But even then one must be sure to be circumspect, and act straight. Anyone could be an undercover cop. If a gaze was held to long, or lovers kissed in a corner the bar would be raided. Police saw us as worthy candidates for abuse so beatings were common and the judge would do all he could to humiliate you.

Now Michael Foucault, the big swinging french dick of queer theory, laid out this whole theory about how the real policing in a society happens inside our heads. Ideas about sin, shame, normalcy, mental illness can all be made to control people, and the Twilight Aristocracy was no different.

While cruising a park at night, or settled on the sofa with a lifelong lover, the thoughts of Priests and Doctors haunted them. “Am I living in Sin? Am I someone God could love?” “Is this healthy? Have I gone mad? Is this a true love or a medical condition which requires cure?”

There was no voice in America yet healing our self doubt, or demanding the world accept us as we are. And that voice, the socialist Harry Hay, did not come during the war, but it would come shortly after directly because of it.

Johnny Get Your Gun… And are you now or ever been a Homosexual?

For the first time in their lives millions of young men crossed thousands of miles from their home to the front.

But before they made that brave journey they had another, unexpected and often torturous journey. The one across the doctor’s office at a recruiting station.

In the nineteenth century queerness moved from an act, “Forgive me Father I have sinned, I kissed another man” to something you are, “The homosexual subspecies can be identified by certain physical and psychological signs.”

These were the glory days of patriarchy and white supremacy, those who transgressed the line between masculine and feminine called the whole culture into question. So doctors obsessed themselves with queerness, its origins, its signs, its so called catastrophic racial consequences and its cure.

“Are you a homosexual?” doctors asked stunned recruits.

If you were closeted but patriotic, you would of course deny the accusation. But the doctor would continue his examination by checking if you were a “Real Man.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Did you like playing sports as a kid?”

If you passed that, the doctor would often try and trip you up by asking about your culture.

“Do you ever go basketeering?” he would ask, remembering to check if there was any lisp or effeminacy in your voice.

Finally if the doctor felt like it he could examine your body to see if you were a member of the homosexual subspecies.

Your gag reflex would be tested with a tongue depressor. Another hole could be carefully examined as well.

Humiliating enough for a straight man. But for a gay recruit the consequences could be life threatening.

Medical authorities knew homosexuals were weak, criminal and mad. To place them among the troops would weaken unit cohesion at the very least, result in treachery at the worst. In civilian life doctors had much the same thing to say.

The recruit needed a cure. And a doctor was always ready. With talk therapy, hypnosis, drugs, electroshock and forced surgeries of the worst kinds there was always a cure ready at hand.

Thankfully the doctors were not successful in their task, one doctor wrote “for every homosexual who was referred or came to the Medical Department, there were five or ten who never were detected. (d’Emilio 25)”

Here’s the irony though, by asking such pointed and direct questions to people closeted to themselves it forced them to confront their sexuality for the first time.

Hegarty writes, “As a result of the screening policies, homosexuality became part of wartime discourse. Questions about homosexual desire and behavior ensured that every man inducted into the armed forces had to confront the possibility of homosexual feelings or experiences. This was a kind of massive public education about homosexuality. Despite—and be-cause of—the attempts to eliminate homosexuals from the military, men with same-sex desires learned that there were many people like themselves (Hegarty 180)”

And then it gave them a golden opportunity to have fun.

The 101st Airborn - Homosocial and Homosexual

“Homosocial” refers to a gender segregated space. And they were often havens for gay men. The YMCA for example really was a place for young gay men to meet.

Now the government was already aware of the kind of scandalous sexual behaviour young men can get up to when left to themselves. Two major government programs before the war, the Federal Transient Program and the Civilian Conservation Corps focused on unattached young men, but over time these spaces became highly suspect and the focus shifted to helping family men so as to avoid giving government aid to ‘sexual perversion’ in these homosocial spaces.

But with the war on there was no choice but to put hundreds of thousands of young men in their own world. All male boot camps, all male bases, all male front lines.

The emotional intensity broke down the barriers between men and the strict enforcement of gendered norms.

On the front the men had no girlfriend, wife or mother to confide in. The soldier’s body was strong and heroic but also fragile. Straight men held each other in foxholes and shared their emotional vulnerability to each other. Gender lines began to blur as straight men danced together in bars an action that would result in arrest in many American cities.

Bronski writes, “Men were now more able to be emotional, express their feelings, and even cry. The stereotypical “strong, silent type,” quintessentially heterosexual, that had characterized the American Man had been replaced with a new, sensitive man who had many of the qualities of the homosexual male. (Bronski 152)”

Homosexual men discovered in this environment new freedoms to get close to one another without arousing suspicion.

“Though the military officially maintained an anti-homosexual stance, wartime conditions nonetheless offered a protective covering that facilitated interaction among gay men (d’Emilio 26)”

Bob Ruffing, a chief petty officer in the Navy described this freedom as follows, ‘When I first got into the navy—in the recreation hall, for instance— there’d be eye contact, and pretty soon you’d get to know one or two people and kept branching out. All of a sudden you had a vast network of friends, usually through this eye contact thing, some through outright cruising. They could get away with it in that atmosphere. (d’Emilio 26) ”

Another wrote about their experience serving in the navy in San Diego, “‘Oh, these are more my kind of people.’ We became very chummy, quite close, very fraternal, very protective of each other. (Hegarty 180)”

Some spaces within the army became queer as well. The USO put on shows for soldiers, and since they could not find women to play parts, the men often dressed in drag. “impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. (Bronski 148)”

“Here you see three lovely “girls”

With their plastic shapes and curls.

Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?

We’ve got glamour and that’s no lie;

Can’t you tell when we swish by?

Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?”

The words camp and swish being used in the gay subculture and connected to effeminate gay men.

I would have to assume, more than a few transwomen gravitated to these spaces as well.

Even the battlefield itself provided opportunities for gay fraternization. A beach in Guam for example became a secret just for the gay troops, they called it Purple Beach Number 2, after a perfume brand.

This homoerotic space was not confined to the military, but spilled out into civilian life as well.

Donald Vining was a pacifist who stated bluntly his homosexuality to the recruitment board as his mother needed his work earnings, and if you wanted be a conscientious objector you had to apply to go to an objector’s camp. He became something of a soldier chaser, working in the local YMCA and volunteering at the soldier’s canteen in New York he hooked up with soldiers still closeted for a night of passion but many more who were open about who they were.

After the war he was left with a network of gay friends and a strong sense of belonging to a community. It was dangerous tho, he was victim of robberies he could not report because they happened during hook ups, but police were always ready to raid gay bars when they were bored. “It was obvious that [the police] just had to make a few arrests to look busy,” he protested in his diary. “It was a travesty of justice and the workings of the police department (d’Emilio 30).״

Now it might seem odd he was able to plug into a community like that, but over the war underground gay bars appeared across the country for their new clientele. Even the isolated Worcester Mass got a gay bar.

African American men, barred from combat on the front lines, were not entirely barred from the gay subculture in the cities. For example in Harlem the jazz bar Lucky Rendevous was reported in Ebony as whites and blacks “steeped in the swish jargon of its many lavender costumers. (Bronski 149)”

The Other War: Facing Homophobia

“For homosexual soldiers, induction into the military forced a sudden confrontation with their sexuality that highlighted the stigma attached to it and kept it a matter of special concern (d’Emilio 25)”

“They were fighting two wars: one for America, democracy, and freedom; the other for their own survival as homosexuals within the military organization. (Eaklor 68)”

Once they were in, they fell under Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: “Any person subject to this chapter who engages in unnatural carnal copulation with another person of the same or opposite sex or with an animal is guilty of sodomy. Penetration, however slight, is sufficient to complete the offense.”

Penalties could include five years hard labour, forced institutionalization or fall under the dreaded Section 8 discharge, a stamp of mental instability that would prevent you from finding meaningful employment in civilian life.

Even if one wanted nothing to do with fulfilling their desires it was still essential to become hyper aware of your presentation and behaviour in order to avoid suspicion.

Coming Home to Gay Ghettos

“The veterans of World War II were the first generation of gay men and women to experience such rapid, dramatic, and widespread changes in their lives as homosexuals. Bronski 154”

After the war many queer servicemen went on to live conventionally heterosexual lives. But many more returned to a much queerer life stateside.

Bob Ruffing would settle down in San Francisco. The city has always been a safe harbour for queer Americans, made more so as ex servicemen gravitated to its liberated atmosphere. The port cities of New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles became the prime destinations to settle. Vining’s partner joined him in New York, where they both immersed themselves in the gay culture.

Other soldiers moved to specific neighborhoods known for having small gay communities. San Francisco’s North Beach, the west side of Boston’s Beacon Hill, or New York’s Greenwich Village. Following the war the gay populations of these cities increased dramatically.

The cities offered parks, coffee houses and bars which became queer spaces. And drag performance, music and comedy became features of this culture.

These veterans also founded organizations just for the queer soldiers. In Los Angeles the Knights of the Clock provided a space for same sex inter racial couples. In New York the Veterans Benevolent Association would often see 400-500 homosexuals appear at its events.

A number of books bluntly explored homosexuality following the war, such as The Invisible Glass which tells the story of an inter racial couple in Italy,

“With a slight moan Chick rolled onto his left side, toward the Lieutenant. His finger sought those of the officer’s as they entwined their legs. Their faces met. The breaths, smelling sweet from wine, came in heavy drawn sighs. La Cava grasped the soldier by his waist and drew him tightly to his body. His mouth pressed down until he felt Chick’s lips part. For a moment they lay quietly, holding one another with strained arms.”

Others like Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar (1948), Fritz Peters’s The World Next Door (1949), and James Barr’s Quatrefoil (1950) explored similar themes.

In 1948 the Kinsey Report would create a public firestorm by arguing that homosexuality is shockingly common. In 1950 The Mattachine Society, a secretive group of homosexual Stalinists launched America’s LGBT movement.

References:

Michael Bronski “A Queer History of the United States”

John D’emilio “Coming Out Under Fire”

Vivki L Eaklor “Queer America: A GLBT History of America”

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

The Lesbians

In 1947 General Eisenhower told a purple heart winning Sargeant Johhnie Phelps, “It's come to my attention that there are lesbians in the WACs, we need to ferret them out”.

Phelps replied, “"If the General pleases, sir, I'll be happy to do that, but the first name on the list will be mine."

Eisenhower’s secretary added “"If the General pleases, sir, my name will be first and hers will be second."

Join me again May 17 to hear the story of America’s Lesbians during the war.

#gay history #world war two #queer history #gay #lgbt

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randomoranges · 3 years

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the first half of this is like haha oupsee and the second half is like But Also

Dress Shirt

Étienne mindlessly tugs on the sleeve of his sweater, as his second group of the day trickles in. It’s Edward’s class and he’s always privately amused when he has his boyfriend’s group. They don’t know, obviously, but he does and the knowledge amuses him.

He’s busy giving out instructions when one of the students’ comes up to him and says, “Hen, M Étienne, vous avez le même chandail que M Édouard?!”

He pauses, mid sentence and looks down to the shirt he’s wearing underneath the sweater and feels a split second of anxiety.

It is, indeed, Edward’s shirt. Kids can be so – observant when they want to.

There’s a perfectly good reason for the shirt.

Kind of.

Not one he’s about to share with the kids, who’ve now noticed that their art teacher has the same shirt as their teacher and who are making a Big Deal out of it.

Last afternoon, like every other afternoon, at the end of the school day, Edward had set out to drive him home, like he does nearly every afternoon and as he’s been doing for the past year and a half. However, halfway through the ride, after their discussion on what they were each making for supper, Étienne had made a comment about how much better Edward’s supper sounded, and his boyfriend had asked him if he wanted to stay for supper.

Étienne had said yes, obviously, and supper had turned into watching some television together, which had turned into making-out on the sofa, which had led Edward to pull Étienne to his bedroom, which had turned into more fooling around, which had culminated in Étienne spending the night on a weekday night.

It had been a really good night, though. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex on a school night.

Therefore, seeing as he hadn’t been prepared to spend the night and seeing as they’d gone to bed past their normal bedtime and had rushed in the morning, Étienne hadn’t really thought anything when he’d asked Edward if he could borrow a shirt for the day. He’d picked his favourite one, Edward had driven them to school, and all the while Étienne had thought that maybe he should leave a change of clothes at Edward’s – in case this happened again. He’d like for it to happen again. Especially the impromptu version.

“Ah oui?” He plays dumb. Thankfully, the shirt is a simple button down in powder blue. “J’imagine qu’on a du l’acheter au même magasin. C’est drôle, hein?” He laughs and the students giggle as well, before he ushers them to their seats so that they can start the lesson.

No one else brings it up and the rest of the period goes off without further incidents.

There’s half an hour left before lunch, when he happens to see the light blinking on his cell phone, alerting him of a message. His third group is busy working on their projects, and so, even though he’s not supposed to, he checks his phone and sees that Edward has sent him a text. Curious, he opens it up, wondering what it says.

“Can we do lunch?”

They hadn’t discussed eating together, but Étienne is never one to say no, unless he legitimately can’t.

“Sure : )”

He doesn’t bother to wait for an answer and goes back to his lesson.

Edward shows up to the art room ten minutes after lunch started, after he’s brought his own kids to the cafeteria, and knocks on the door as he always does. Étienne looks up from the paint pucks he’s been setting up and grins, before he motions him in. He walks over to the door and makes sure to lock it behind Edward, before he pecks his boyfriend’s cheek in greeting.

“Nice shirt,” Edward offers and Étienne lets out a semi-embarrassed laugh.

“I guess you heard?”

“It’s all the kids were talking about.”

There’s a point of seriousness to Edward’s voice and Étienne wonders if maybe his boyfriend is bothered by this. If he hasn’t had a change of heart.

“I’m sorry if I made things weird – I promise I didn’t tell them anything – just that we must have gotten it at the same store.”

They both take a seat on the couch at the back of the room and Edward lets himself slump over with a deep sigh.

“No – it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I played along as well and it’s fine, but – is it stupid that I got scared for a moment? That they’d figure it out and react?”

Étienne blinks, confused for only a second and then it hits him. What it could mean. What it could look like. What it could lead to.

“It’s not stupid,” Étienne says after a moment, a quiet little admission of defeat. “This is still school. People like us have been fired for less.”

It’s a sobering fact to remember. It leaves a chill in the room that even the coziest of sweaters can’t whisk away.

“I don’t know – maybe it would be easier if there was a precedent. Some queer kid in the school. Queer parents. Something that would let us know it’s okay,” Sure, the union has an ally branch – but for the kids. There’s never really anything mentioned for staff. Even when he tried to look, he’s found nothing.

Edward picks up, “Yet, in all my years here, I’ve never heard of a student having queer parents. Or even mentioning a queer family member or friend. I mean, I get we’re in elementary. Kids coming out happens more frequently in high school, but still. It would help. Would ease the tension and the anxiety.”

He remembers hearing stories growing up. He remembers the fear he had felt, even then, without knowing. The sleepless nights afterwards. Wondering, always, how would it impact him, even though this was a new millennium. It’s always easier to say that one is tolerant, another to apply it when faced with the facts. Would the school accept two queer teachers? Would the parents turn on them? Would the school ask them to leave, politely, before they caused more damage? Because parents would talk? Would they even?

Étienne reaches out and gives his knee a squeeze. “I hate that I get what you mean,” He sighs out and spares him a glance, “And that we have to choose – between being ourselves or going back into some proverbial closet. Potentially losing a job and causing a scene, or keeping our heads down and passing by.”

“Yeah...” He’s relieved Étienne gets it. He would, obviously, but he’s relieved regardless. If anything, at least, he’s not alone. He’s not going back home to some other boyfriend who doesn’t have to worry about this one issue and who won’t understand. He’s been there before.

“I know it’s not ideal, but I’m not – I don’t think I’m ready. To be out. Here.” He casts a worried glance around the room and then to Étienne, afraid his boyfriend will get annoyed. They’ve only been dating for a few short months and he knows he should have brought this up over summer, but – he’d forgotten. “I know you’re more – out than me. In your style and way of dressing... and I know it’s asking a lot.”

“Hey, no, I get it – I really do.” Étienne says and tugs at Edward’s body until his boyfriend is leaning on him, using his chest as a pillow, “The school institution in itself is still a very conservative place full of archaic rules. I’m fine with playing it safe and testing the waters. Not rocking the boat and all. I might be the art teacher and get away with some things, but believe it or not there are still things I keep to myself as well.”

They’ve spoken some about this over the summer, once they’d started dating. Of certain things they both enjoy doing that wouldn’t be accepted by the school’s dress code. Certain hobbies that might be frowned upon by more conservative minded people. It’s exhausting, really and they both hate it. Yet, even if they decided to take up arms to fight the stigma, it would take a lot of time and they’re both uncertain they have the drive in them for it.

“Sometimes, I wish I had a different job. One where I could – dress the way I wanted and just be me. No one would question it.” Edward admits, his head on Étienne’s shoulder where it’s nice and safe. “I mean, I know that there are issues everywhere and that even if I worked at a bank a client could decide not to touch money I handled because I’m gay, or something, but I feel that there’s an extra layer in a school. Because of the kids.”

He’s heard stories – on the news, online, of parents accusing teachers – hell, even more open-minded straight teachers of turning their kids “gay” because of class discussions or certain books they’d make their kids read or some other stupid thing. He knows they live in a pretty tolerant and open-minded city, but it doesn’t mean everyone is on board and there’s no way of knowing which parents would be on their side and which ones would want them out. Unfortunately, there is no survey that’s sent out at the start of the year along with photo authorisations.

“I hate that I always have to fucking lie and pretend.” Edward concludes with another frustrated sigh.

“Me too,” Étienne adds.

They fall quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts, imagining what their lives could be like if there wasn’t this constant stress, simmering in the back of their minds, dictating their every move – watching and waiting for them to tumble and fall.

“I don’t know if it makes things easier or harder that we work in the same place and that we’re together, but I know I’m glad I’m not alone – that if anything, we can at least get support from one another and maybe, hopefully, with time, we’ll find out who the allies are.”

Edward looks at him and scrubs a hand over his face, before he offers him the smallest of smiles. It’s not much, but Étienne will take it.

“I guess you’re right,” He pauses and then looks over to Étienne, “Okay, but what were the actual odds that in a job composed mostly of women, the only two male teachers would not only be queer but end up together?” He huffs a laugh and Étienne grins, joining him.

“Probably very little, but I don’t regret it.”

He means it, truly. He’d obviously enjoyed being friends with Edward, but he likes where their relationship has been going and he hopes that – even if it’s a little unconventional, that they’ll manage to overcome whatever hardships and insecurities will come their way.

“Me neither.” They might have to make concessions because of their work, but Edward has vowed to himself, years ago, that he wouldn’t stop himself from being happy and living his life because of what others might think of him. He might not be willing to go to battle over every issue, but he’ll find ways to make this work. They both will.

“For the record, you can keep the shirt – it looks really good on you.”

Étienne laughs, this time for real, and it’s closer to his usual carefree laugh, before he playfully hits Edward on the shoulder.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #fic #teacher au

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