hey guys...

Earlier this week, I accidentally deleted my @starrjoy account while trying to delete an old sideblog. I unfortunately haven't heard from support on a way to recover it yet, so I guess it's time to just start over </3 If you could help me out by reblogging this post and refollowing here and @pandoraaucomic , I'd much appreciate it. I'll be slowly working on reposting everything in the upcoming weeks if i get bad news from support. While losing a following I've been building for over a year and a half is certainly sad, I've been a little more stressed financially since I am a full time artist and run most if not all of my commissions through tumblr. With my current contract ending in a few weeks, any and all monetary help would be greatly appreciated.

ily guys, sorry i'm DUMB

A Cup of Tea and Paracetamol pt 2/?

I’m back with part 2! Sorry for the delay, last weekend was wildly busy. This part features a staunchly miserable Elijah, so I hope you guys enjoy that. Unedited, basically unread by me until I look at it later and hate myself for a random spelling/grammar mistake. Part one can be found here, if you’re interested in reading that/understanding what’s going on in this part lmao. I’m thinking this is going to be 3 parts, and the final one should be up later this week (hopefully. No promises lol). 

OH ALSO I am very much so not from England, I’ve never been outside the US so I’m sorry if I say something that sounds super weird or wrong about England. Just go ahead and pre-suspend your disbelief that basically no cold medication can be found in London while you’re at it. This is fiction and it’s at the mercy of what makes my characters the most miserable lmao. 

Enjoy!

cw: male sneezing, colds, contagion is mentioned but not explicitly in this part

A Cup of Tea and Paracetamol (pt 2)

“Stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing, I’m getting it together,” Greyson took a deep breath slowly, but it came out once again as a squawk of a laugh. Elijah elbowed him hard in the arm before snatching his bag off of the moving carousel.

“You’re an ass,” Elijah grumbled, moving towards the exit.

“Boss, hey, I’m sorry, man,” Greyson said jogging a bit to keep up with Elijah. “But I mean, come on. It is kind of funny.”

“I literally cannot think of anything less funny,” Elijah said, pulling his hand sanitizer out of his pocket for the millionth time that day and squirting the last of it on his hands. “That was a fucking nightmare.” The sick man Elijah had been sitting next to literally couldn’t have done a worse job of keeping his germs to himself; he had basically sneezed and coughed for the entire seven hours, minus maybe thirty minutes of snoring with his open mouth facing Elijah. Greyson hailed a cab as Elijah shuddered; at least it was over.

“We’re gonna have to find an English CVS or something,” Greyson mused. “Do they have Emergen-C here?”

“I have no idea,” Elijah said, massaging his temples before opening the cab door. “Let’s just get away from this godforsaken airport.”

The ride to the hotel was thankfully quick, and by some miracle, the gift shop in the lobby did stock Emergen-C. Greyson and Elijah loaded up, dropped their things in the room, and headed out to dinner. Their first day was completely blown because of the flight and the time difference, so over their meals Elijah was busy texting the contact for the event.

“What’d she say about the product we ordered?” Greyson asked, his leg bouncing nervously under the table. Elijah gave him a pointed look and showed the chef his text stream with the contact – a woman named Samantha.

“She said she has it all,” he said as Greyson read through their texts. “Stop worrying so much.”

Greyson snorted. “That’s rich coming from you,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “The king of fuckin worrying.”

“It’s a festival event, Grey. We’ve done a thousand of them. It’s not like we’re doing it in Mumbai and we don’t speak the language.” Greyson shrugged and Elijah sent off another text.

“Okay,” Elijah said, clapping his hands together. “Tomorrow: prep. It’s 1,000 portions, if we get to the kitchen at seven, it’ll probably take us ten hours to get everything done.”

“Seven?!” Greyson asked, incredulous. “Isn’t that like three in the morning our time?”

Elijah shrugged. “We have to get it done, Grey. We don’t have the team help us; I think the event provides a couple of culinary students, but that’s it. It’s gonna be a long one.”

Greyson groaned and put his head in his hands. “Fine,” he said after a moment of mourning his sleep. “But I’m gonna complain the whole time.”

Elijah chuckled as he flagged the server. “I’d expect no less.”

***

Greyson peeled his eyes open at the ass-crack of dawn to see that the bathroom light was on and the shower was running. Jesus christ, he thought, does Elijah ever fucking sleep?

The chef rolled unceremoniously out of bed and grudgingly shoved his legs into jeans and his arms into his chef coat. It was so goddamn early. He was so goddamn tired. While buttoning his chef coat, Greyson fantasized about running away, skipping the event and just enjoying London like it was a vacation; beer and fish and chips in a dark pub, strolling through museums with no schedule, taking a long ass hotel nap and then going to a Michelin-starred restaurant for dinner. Yeah… now that sounded like a trip.

Just as he was about to pound on the bathroom door and ask if Elijah had fallen in, Greyson heard his boss’s breath hitch.

“hehh...huhNGTSH-uh!”

Oh, mother fucker.

“Lij…?” Greyson called into the bathroom. When he didn’t get an answer, he knocked tentatively. “Y’okay in there?”

Greyson heard nothing for a moment, the a sudden – “HGTSHH-ue!” Greyson set his jaw in anticipation, and just as he was about to knock again, Elijah opened the door.

“I’m good,” he said, his voice slightly lower than it usually was. “You ready?”

“Uh, yeah,” Greyson said, motioning to his getup. “Are you sure you’re alright? I heard you, uh… sneezing.”

“I’m fine, Grey, just steam from the shower. C’mon, we need to meet Samantha in the lobby in five minutes.”

Greyson followed Elijah silently to the elevator, and continued his silence as they descended to the lobby. He couldn’t lie; he was worried. Worried about his boss, a bit, but mostly worried about the event - if Elijah was sick, who was going to work the booth with him tomorrow? He couldn’t do it himself, he knew that much for sure, but, to be frank, he was fairly scared of invoking Elijah’s wrath by asking if he was sick, or even offering to get him medicine. Instead, while Elijah went through the finer details of the event with Samantha, Greyson snuck off to the giftshop, bought two bottles of water, and filled them both with Emergen-C. Before Elijah could notice he’d left, Greyson breezed back to the lobby and placed a bottle in his boss’s hand.

“What’s this?” Elijah asked as he waved goodbye to Samantha. Greyson shrugged.

“Emergen-C. Long flight, long couple days; better to be safe than sorry.”

Elijah gave Greyson a pointed look, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and chugged half of it.

“Right,” he said, screwing the cap back on. “Let’s go check out the kitchen.”

***

Not to be dramatic, but Elijah really wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the weekend.

It was about seven hours into prepping the short rib nacho they were serving for tomorrow’s event, and Elijah’s eyes were drooping at even the thought of another seven hours. He’d definitely been entirely too optimistic about his and Greyson’s abilities to get this knocked out in ten hours; the culinary students he’d assumed would be helping them prep were, as it turned out, scheduled to help run the booth tomorrow, not cook with them today. Elijah and Greyson were balls-deep in chopping, searing, frying, and basting with no end in sight. And it really didn’t help that Elijah couldn’t seem to get one little thing under control.

“hehhNGTHSH-uh! HGSTH-oo!” Elijah sneezed into his elbow for what felt like the billionth time that day and sniffed as hard as he could before returning to slicing potatoes on the mandolin.

“Careful,” Greyson said, also for the billionth time. “Do you want me to take those over, boss? We really can’t have you slicing your finger off.”

“Ndo,” Elijah said, wincing at how his own voice sounded. “I’mb good.”

Whatever monster of a cold the man on the plane had had yesterday, it certainly traveled quickly. Elijah had woken up that morning with a scratchy throat and slightly runny nose, and now at just after noon he was fairly sure he was dying. “HETSSHCHH-ue!”

“Bless,” Greyson said, curt. At the beginning of the day, Greyson had been sympathetic – almost overly sympathetic, bordering on neurotic. He’d offered to buy Elijah medicine in the gift shop, which Elijah had staunchly declined until about ten am. After the third offer, Elijah had broken down and given up on the ‘I’m-not-sick-I’m-totally-fine’ charade. “Fine, yes, find me what they have.”

But Greyson had come back empty-handed, with exception of the mystery drug the man on the plane had requested yesterday – paracetamol. After a quick google search, they found out it was pretty much just tylenol.

“Tylenol??” Elijah had asked, dumbstruck. “That’s really all they have?”

Greyson had nodded. “I asked the woman at the front if there was, like, a drug store somewhere that sells dayquil and she had no idea what I was talking about.”

“You have got to be fucking shitting – HGTSHH-oo! Huhh...hehESTCHHH-ue! Snf.” Elijah wiped his face on his sleeve, defeated. “Shittigg mbe.”

He was not. A call to a local drugstore confirmed that dayquil and nyquil weren’t available in the UK, and their best bet was going to be the paracetamol. Elijah had tried to stifle a groan, and Greyson had offered his sympathy.

“I’m sorry, boss,” he said as he browned the short ribs in a huge tilt skillet. “I can ask the front desk to make you some tea?”

After Elijah had grumbled something about hating tea, Greyson had sighed and seemingly given up on the niceties. Now, several hours later, he had taken to not even mentioning Elijah’s condition.

“HRETSSHHOO!” This one caught Elijah off-guard, and he ended up doubled over his legs with his arms over his head to keep from contaminating the food. “Mbother fucker,” he mumbled, moving towards the hand washing station to blow his nose. From across the kitchen, Elijah heard Greyson sigh.

“Boss,” he called as Elijah threw away a handful of paper towels. “Go take a break.”

“Grey, we have so mbuch left to do. I’mb not leaving you.”

“Lij, please. Just go lay down for an hour or something, I literally am standing here with my stomach in my asshole freaking out that you’re not going to be able to do the event tomorrow, so please please just go and take a nap with some tea. Please.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow at Greyson and coughed lightly into his fist. “What the fugck are you talkigg about?” he asked, walking closer to the chef.

Greyson ran a nervous hand through his hair, then, noticing what he’d done, snapped the gloves off his hands and threw them in the trash with much more force than was necessary. “I’m just worried, dude, like you look like fucking hell. You look like you’re going to fuckin keel over, and I literally cannot do this event by myself. I can’t, Lij.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh that turned into a dry cough. “Greysond,” he said, as gently as he could muster, “I don’t care if I have two brokend arms and two brokend legs. I’mb going to be at the event. Okay? It’s a cold. I’mb fuckigg miserable, but it’s a cold. It’s gonna be fine.” He placed a careful hand on the chef’s shoulder and shook him lightly. “Okay?”

Greyson let out a shaky sigh. “Okay,” he said. “Good,” Elijah said, giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. “But you’re right about onde thing: we ndeed a break. And I think I mbight take you up ond – HGSTHH-oo! HRSHH-uh! Huhh…hhNGSTHH-ue!” Elijah groaned into the sleeve of his shirt and took the paper towel Greyson held out to him. “Ond the fuckigg tea.”

ushijima wakatoshi x female! reader x kageyama tobio.

summary: ushijima teaching kageyama how to please women and he uses you as an example, of course. 

warnings: dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, voyeurism, fingering, post time skip.

Ok but a Kageyama and Ushijima sandwich, please ?? Maybe something like Kageyama wants to learn how to please a girl so he goes to Ushijima for advice ?? he knows Ushijima is in a loving relationship with you and that he can satisfy all of your needs by the way the green-haired man brags about you to his teammates. He never misses an opportunity to boast about how your tiny form takes him so well, how you manage to completely lose yourself on his big, fat cock. he brags about it all- your pretty tears streaming down your face whenever you cry from overstimulation or how well your throat closes around him, your pretty tits, your perfect ass. He makes everyone else in the room jealous and by the end, they all want a taste of you but unfortunately, Ushi doesn’t share. :(( So he goes to his senpai for advice knowing full well his senpai would never say no to him, but what he does not expect is Ushijima to invite him in the bedroom. He says he knows Kageyama and that he’s always been more of a hands-on learner, it wouldn’t make sense if Ushijima just gave him some ‘advice’ and let him go make a fool of himself. he needs to see it for himself, experience it for himself, and Ushi is more than happy to let him demonstrate all of it on you !!! Kageyama doesn’t understand what’s gotten into his senpai. Maybe he’s mad at you or something because otherwise, he’d never let any man other than himself see you like this.

You’re a little clueless, wondering why Ushi had brought home Kageyama so late. “It’s time for bed already, shouldn’t Kageyama leave? or is he staying over for the night...” he can hear you speak to Ushi in the kitchen in hushed tones, You don’t want him to feel like a burden to them. Ushijima denies your claims, “It’s fine. you don’t have to bother with it...he’ll be gone in some time,” his large hands caress your cheek as you lean into his warm hold, “just go take a shower or something, get ready for bed.” And like a trained puppy, you obey him beautifully. Stripping down from your clothes and stepping into the shower unbeknownst to how two men scandalously plan your defiling. Ushijima tells Kageyama to just repeat what he does and try to give all his effort into it because soon Ushi has your wet, naked body trapped against his chest, a pair of handcuffs binding your wrists behind your back while Ushijima's large hands pry your legs open for Kageyama to stare at your dripping pussy. You squirm around in his grasp trying to free yourself. Kageyama feels sorry for you so he asks, “are you sure this is fine, senpai?” Ushi just grunts. His hands on your legs leave as it gets replaced with Kageyama abnormally huge ones, as Ushi’s start traveling up your body and nestling inside your warm mouth, shutting up your whimpers and begs for mercy. “It’s fine. She’s been a brat these days, whoring herself out to other men,” his free hand gropes your chest, pinching and pulling on your hard nipples. “I need to teach her a lesson and you need to learn a lesson,” he scoffs, “killing two birds with one stone, here.” his fingers dive deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. You can feel drool drip past your lips down to your neck. Ushijima takes turns dipping his fingers into your mouth and pawing at your chest. Sometimes the fingers of his right hand are buried deep in your throat while the other fondle with your tits and other times it's his spit-soaked fingers grazing over your hardened buds sending jitters of pleasure down your spine. You whine and beg for him to go easy on you but he doesn’t listen, instead of instructing Kageyama who hovered your cunt, his eyes glued to your gaping hole to repeat what he had done to you moments ago. Kageyama throws one pitiful look at your pathetic form before trailing his finger down to your abused cunt. He recalls how Ushi played with your pearl, rubbing his fingers tightly against the little bud watching you wither under him as your pussy started drooling and begging for more. He remembers how he made you gush around his fingers, pumping your tight cunt with his huge digits, dragging them against your velvety walls making you cry.  And then he repeats, staring his ministrations all over again until Kageyama can say he’s through. By the time Kageyama gives the heads up, your pussy is puffy, swollen, and abused. Your face stained with dried tears as you rest to calm yourself. “No more, ‘Toshi,” you beg but Ushijima turns a blind to your whimpering. He motions over Kageyama to take the lead, taking a seat behind you and steadying to his chest. “Now, your turn,” Ushijima says. Kageyama feels his cock throb in his pants as he watches you with peering eyes. Wasting no time his fingers reach towards your clit, petting over it until your pussy starts drooling with want. Your cries are muffled by Ushijima’s huge fingers, “can you feel her tighten up around you?” he asks when Kageyama slips a finger into you, “She’s wet and-” he forces another in, scissoring his fingers, stretching you out. “Surprisingly tight,” he murmurs. “We have pushed the whore past her limits,” Ushijima says. His voice sits off the edge with a crude and harsh tone, “but it’s fine. I know my princess can take it,” he peppers your forehead with gentle kisses as Kageyama destroys your cunt. He does exactly as Ushi taught him. Fingering your cunt, pressing his fingers gleefully at the spongy spot like he was told and it works. Moments later he can feel you coil around him, almost ripping his fingers off. “I can feel it!” Kageyama exclaims. The rush of your juices closing around his fingers makes him smile, he keeps pumping his fingers into your cunt as you cum around him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and tongue lapping languidly at Ushi’s fingers. “I did it. I made her cum.” Kageyama says, announcing his achievement. “That’s great, I expected that from you,” he praises the black-haired man before lifting your limping body back to his chest. “Do it again.” Kageyama looks a bit surprised, he glances at your form- you can barely keep your eyes open, shouldn’t he let you just rest? “I think she’s tired.” he thinks aloud and immediately regrets it. Ushijima’s eyes turn dark as he glares at him, “It’s fine. Her slutty cunt will still work.” he finishes and Kageyama nods going back to let his fingers widely pet your cunt. He genuinely feels sorry for you but he can’t bring himself to say no to Ushi so he stays the entire night fingering you until you’re passed out. <3

Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!

(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)

But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!

And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.

-----

Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.

When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.

But now?

He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.

“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”

They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”

He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”

“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.

“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”

“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”

Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”

The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.

Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.

He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.

It was a private fashion show, just for him.

The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.

“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.

“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”

“That’s tsundere for ‘you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”

If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.

“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”

“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”

Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"

Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.

They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?

(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)

So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.

"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."

"Gotcha."

Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.

"Yes!!"

They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.

"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"

"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.

Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.

3...2...1

Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.

Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.

Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.

"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"

Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.

Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"

Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.

"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."

"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."

They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"

Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.

A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.

"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"

"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."

"Ooh, cool!"

"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"

Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."

The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.

"Were those two bothering you guys?"

Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.

"They took care of it."

Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."

The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.

"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."

"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.

"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."

"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."

"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."

"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."

Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”

Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.

Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”

“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You usually don’t.”

“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.

Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.

Well, that and getting his own food.

“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.

“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.

“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”

Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.

“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”

For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.

“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.

“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.

“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”

“Your point?”

Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”

“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”

All I would like to request is Legend and Sky hanging out, maybe being friends. Also, love you lots Seeking! Hope you're taking care of yourself and having a good day. It's what you deserve ^u^

Linked Universe Prompt Requests #3!

First of all, I appreciate you so much, Silver! And second, here you go!

(You can also read the fic here on Ao3)

~~~~~~

Legend leaned against his kitchen counter, chin in his palm and nose scrunched against the breeze leaking through the window.

"Foul ball, that was a foul ball!"

"Wha- no it wasn't! You can't call a foul ball whenever we score!"

Warriors and Twilight glowered at each other. On the far side of the backyard, Wind dribbled a spotted ball between his ankles and made small talk with Wild, who was trying to wipe away the sweat pooling under his arms with the end of his ponytail.  Legend scrunched his nose in disgust. Apparently the champion's bright idea to host a ball game in the hottest hour of the afternoon had come back to bite him.

His focus drifted over to the other side of his backyard, where Hyrule stood forlornly between two wooden posts. His team's poor excuse for a goal, most likely.

"You tried to trip me!"

"I did not! Stop whining, would you? If you wanted to win you should have learned the rules of the game beforehand."

"Cut me some slack, Twi. It's my first time playing!"

"Not an excuse. If you wanted to learn you could have just stayed inside with Sky and Legend or gone to the market with Four!"

Warriors took a few quick steps forward. Twilight stood his ground and puffed up his chest.

"That's enough, you two." Time said, voice snapping from his spot on a nearby bench. Legend grunted. What kind of referee watched from a bench? This was why there was an argument happening in the first place.

Behind him, the kettle began to whistle. Legend pushed himself off his elbows and turned to shut off the stove top, only partially ignoring the sounds of athletic revelry from the backyard. Porcelain clinked as Legend pulled a cup off the drying rack, then, glancing across the room, pulled off another.

If Sky was bothered by any of the commotion outside or the domestic ambience inside, he didn't show it. Instead, he sat at a table by the porch window, filing idly through the mounds of miscellaneous letters and trinkets piled around him. An overhead cuckoo clock wheedled out a dinky tune as Sky scrutinized an oddly-shaped mask.

"Coffee?" Legend asked.

Sky looked up from the table, then smiled.

"Yes, please!"

"Wrong, it's tea. What kind do you want?"

Sky's eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he caught on.

"Oh, haha! You got me. Uh, I don't really know. Surprise me."

Legend nodded to himself as he poured the kettle into the two cups. "You like sweet stuff?"

"Yeah, big fan. Can't drink anything too hot, though. Hurts my face. You got any iced tea or something?"

Steam plumed from the cups. Legend let out a small snort.

"Would have been nice to know that earlier."

Sky scratched the back of his neck and had the decency to offer up an apologetic smile. With a roll of his eyes, Legend set the kettle down and hoisted himself onto the kitchen counter.

He knew he stored the ice cubes in one of the overhead cabinets, but which one? Cabinets opened and closed as Legend balanced precariously on the countertop. Where was it? Had he really been gone so long that he didn't know where his own things were?

"Hey Legend, what's this?"

Paper rustled. The legs of Sky's chair squeaked as he leaned back, and in the corner of his eye Legend saw his companion hold something up to his face.

"Little busy here," Legend mumbled, closing yet another cabinet full of pots and pans. Maybe he should give some to Ravio; the guy needed some things for his new place, anyway. "Can you describe it to me?"

A snicker, then a stifled sound of agreement. Legend would have turned around to glare at Sky if he wasn't busy gloating over his find; the ice, at last! The countertop groaned as Legend plopped the bag of ice atop it and hopped onto the floor.

"It's a letter," Sky began, his voice uncharacteristically suave. Legend's eyes narrowed. "It's in this little pink envelope, and there's a little heart sticker on it. Says on the back....'from Elise.' Oh ho ho! Who's Elise? And there's another one here! This one's white, and it has a flower sticker on the lip. Very, very cute. Is this from Elise, too? Let me see...oh goddesses! 'From Carmen!' Carmen! Now tell me, does Elise know about this Carmen?"

Sky looked up at him with an impossibly smug grin. Legend pressed the corners of his lips down as he pulled out the rest of the ingredients for the tea.

"They're just girls," Legend began. "Just-"

"Just girls? What kind of philosophy is that? And to think you criticize Warriors for his womanizing tendencies..."

"You didn't let me finish! They're just girls who work at the bakery in Castle Town. I don't know how they got my address, but one day they all started sending me letters like that."

Sky's eyebrows piqued upwards. It might have looked innocent if not for the devious smile on his face.

"Oh, I see. So why did you keep them? Elise and Carmen must have been very sorry to have not received any response," Sky said, rifling through the stack of pink and red and crème colored letters and flipping them over to read the names on the back. Legend pretended he didn't see Sky's grin widen. "And I'm guessing the same is true for poor Lisa...and Donatella...and Trish..."

It was a good thing that Legend was preoccupied with measuring out sugar and honey, because if he had been any closer to the ice cubes, they might have melted from the heat radiating off Legend's face.

"I'm serious, Sky! I don't know any of them. I don't know why they kept sending the letters -- I never even gave them my address! I mean, I'm sure they're all really nice girls, but I'm just not, you know, in the position to be in a relationship right now...with the traveling and heroics and all that..."

Silverware clattered as Legend pulled open a drawer and retrieved a fruit knife. The sound of shouting and running echoed from outside. Light streamed through the kitchen window, and the breeze pushed along dust bunnies on the floor. Sky studied Legend, watching with unusual intensity as the latter skinned and diced a peach, then folded his hands behind his head.

"Fine, fine. But one more question, then."

Legend made a vague sound that could have been read as either grateful or irritated; most likely, it was a combination of both. Sky pushed forward anyway.

"Why'd you keep them?"

"What?"

"The cards. Why did you keep them? Did you just not have a chance to throw them away or something?"

"Throw them away? Of course not! Did you see the paper they're made of? That sort of high quality cardstock doesn't come from just anywhere! If I can find a way to bleach the paper without damaging it, I can use it for all sorts of things!"

Sky snorted, smiled, and tossed a handful of pink cards back onto the table. Hoarder, indeed.

"I think that Ravio friend of yours is starting to rub off on you."

"He is not," Legend insisted, placing a spoon and straw in both cups before walking over to the table. Only after Sky brushed away the cards in front of him did Legend hand him his tea. "He would have tried to sell them off as antiques or something. Guy wouldn't know what a real antique was even if it was staring him in the face."

Sky hummed. The sound bubbled into his tea and set little capsules of air drifting across the frothy surface. "Hey, did you put peaches in this?"

"Yeah, you like it?"

Outside, Warriors cried foul and Hyrule said something about headshots. Sky sipped his drink again, then grinned. "Mmmm, delicious. Yeah, I love it! Give me the recipe sometime, huh?"

"Heh, will do. Glad you like it."

"And speaking of Ravio, where is he? Didn't you say he used to squat here?"

Legend nodded, hands cupped around his drink and goosebumps flaring from its soothing coolness. "He did, but he just moved out. Got his own shop by the castle, with a big nice sign out in front. Professionally made. It looks pretty good, honestly. I haven't seen him in a while, but I might drop by sometime to say hi."

"Ah, I see," Sky said, absently threading one of the love letters through his fingers. Legend shot him a dirty glare, but he paid it no mind. "Hey, you said that these girls somehow figured your address, right? Do you think Ravio might have given it out? Maybe while you were gone or something?"

"Ravio? That's ridiculous. He's not the sort of guy to do that. For the longest time he's been telling me to...to..."

Legend's eyes widened. The goosebumps along his arms grew more pronounced, and this time it wasn't from his chilly drink.

"He what?" Sky prompted.

"He's been telling me to get a girlfriend for the longest time and...he...he set me up. He set me up! He gave out my address to those girls. I know it! He...this is his fault!"

Sky burst into laughter. Tea sprayed across the table, splattering across rose-colored envelopes and sparkling cardstock. Legend punched him in the shoulder, hard, but Sky didn't stop.

"Ravio! Ravio as your wingman, I would have never thought! Doing the goddesses' work, he is!"

"Oh, shut up, would you? I'm not going to make you tea again!"

Their punching and tousling cooled when the front door swung open. A moment later, Four stepped inside, arms laden with groceries and a peculiar grin on his face.

"You're back!" Sky said. Legend mumbled something about Sky stating the obvious before placing his cup to his cheek, trying to smother his burning blush.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever was going on here," Four said. That odd smile was still on his face. "I’m just about to put all these groceries away, but there's something I need to give to Legend first."

"Me?" Legend asked. Four's grin widened; it looked unnervingly similar to the one Sky had worn just minutes ago.

"Yes, special delivery. From a certain 'Amelia'. It's the red box, yeah, that one."

Legend picked up the box gently, sandwiching it between his forearm and bicep, and shuddered. Sky and Four traded a sidelong look before the latter darted off into the kitchen.

"Well? What do you think it is?" Sky asked.

"I don't want to know," Legend whispered. He took a seat by the table before tossing the box by his cup. Something rustled inside.

"Open it..."

"Open it!" Four chimed from the kitchen. His voice was unusually high.

With a world weary sigh, Legend edged his fingers under the box cover and slowly lifted it upwards.

"Well? What is it?"

"Wait, would you? I can't tell..."

Legend leaned forward, squinting.

His eyes widened.

With an undignified BANG, he slammed the box shut and launched it across the room. His face was stained a dangerous color of scarlet.

"...well?" Sky repeated, "what was it?"

Legend let out a short breath, then leaned over to cradle his head in his hands.

"...remind me to kill Ravio the next time I see him," he growled.

Sky and Four burst into laughter, and even Legend couldn't fully stifle a smile.

~~ Fine ~~ I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading! [Previous Request] - [Next Request]

Stuffing Story: “Daniel Gets His Fill”

Hieee 👋presenting my first kink fiction story, just a couple college guys getting stuffed.

Features stuffing, overeating, tummy rumbles, burps, and tummy rubs.

SOOOO um hope y’all like it 👉👈🥺

“

“And that about wraps it up for today! Don’t forget chapter four homework due Monday.” the professor said, dismissing the class.

Daniel grinned, hopped from his seat and headed toward the lecture hall door. He was an active type, and hated to sit still for long periods. As he waited for the crowd of his classmates to shuffle through the door ahead of him, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the nearby glass bookcase. He was average height, with tan skin, broad shoulders and large thighs. He was muscular and lean, save for a bit of a belly protruding from the very bottom of his abdomen, which he could never quite seem to work off, or even to tuck away completely when he wanted to hide his pudge.

Daniel didn’t care though. His main passions were eating, and working it off with strenuous exercise. His energy seemed boundless, but none more than his appetite was bottomless. At the time he wanted nothing more than a full rack of ribs and some buffalo wings. But at the same time he already had energy to expend as well. He wavered about how he’d spend the afternoon when his friend Nick called to him from across the hall, settling his silent debate.

“Yo Danny! We hitting the gym or what?” Nick said with a toothy grin.

“Sure, bro.” Daniel replied. “Leg day today, right?”

“Think so.”

“Sweet. I’ll meet you downstairs in five.” Daniel said, and headed to his car.

He grabbed his athletic clothes. He smiled to himself in anticipation of the coming activity. Soon they’d squat, lunge, press and strain their legs until they were nearly too sore to walk. He turned his thigh to the mirror he’d mounted on the inside of his locker door. His quads were already looking huge - they were getting that chiseled teardrop shape as well. As he lifted his shirt for a better view, he felt a sudden rumbling from down below. It had been nearly four hours since lunch - which was never enough for Daniel in the first place - and he was filled with nearly child-like excitement for what was to come. He thought of his favorite part of lifting - gorging himself afterward. Such a strenuous, calorie-intensive session as leg day meant he could pack it in with no shame.

He arrived at the basement gym, which was open to all resident students, but was surprisingly empty at the time. Nick was already at the squat rack - he had already set them up with a soul-crushing 315 pound squat rack.

“Alright then.” Daniel said, pumped. “Let’s hit it.”

And so they did. They grunted their way through 5 sets of squats, followed by lunges and leg presses. Then Daniel did some calf raises in the squat rack, his belly jiggling every time he descended. Some of it slipped out from under his shirt occasionally, and glistened with sweat. Daniel just rolled his eyes and tucked it back in.

When they finished, Nick lifted his shirt to wipe his sweat, exposing his ab muscles. Nick looked at Daniel’s partially exposed abdominal region and smirked. “You can never seem to lose that chubby little gut, can you?” he said, poking Daniel’s flab, which was still beaded with sweat. “Nah, don’t have the willpower I guess. But I don’t care. Let’s go eat.” Daniel said.

“Sure, maybe just a salad, Danny? If you - “

Nick was cut off by a deep audible growl from Daniel’s belly. Daniel squeezed it with both hands and looked up at Nick.

“Uh, okay bro, how does Wendy’s sound?” Nick said, silenced by Daniel’s rumblings.

“I’m not feeling it. Let’s hit that new buffet instead.” Daniel said, already headed for the door. Nick followed, knowing his friend was now less of a freshman undergrad and more of a beast in search of prey.

They showered down, got back into school clothes and jumped into Daniel’s car. Daniel usually offered Nick a ride back to his apartment whenever he needed it after their afternoon lifting sessions. They headed a few blocks away from the main campus building, towards a new all-you-can-eat buffet. Daniel’s hungry stomach continued to growl louder, but he simply turned up the car stereo to drown it out.

After what seemed like an eternity, Daniel and Nick pulled into the buffet. They walked in and the greeter happily showed them a booth, but the restaurant owner behind her pursed his lips upon seeing Daniel and Nick, visibly ravenous. They had already twice visited the fairly-new establishment. This kid’s gonna drive me out of business, he thought to himself. That orifice must eat his weight in food once a week.

They claimed their booth seats, and beelined to the buffet area. Daniel grabbed a plate and loaded it with buffalo wings (honey barbecue AND blue cheese), meat loaf, a bacon cheeseburger, quesadillas and a pepperoni calzone. The plate must’ve weighed nearly a pound, and Daniel was practically drooling on the way back to the table.

“Jeez, got enough there, bro?” Nick asked as they sat down, but Daniel was already stuffing his face.

“Nnnf, mm!” Daniel forced a reply.

“Never, huh?” Nick asked. 

He watched as Daniel tore into the bacon cheeseburger, engulfing nearly a third of it in one bite. In well under a minute he’d downed the whole thing. Daniel grinned wordlessly at Nick while chewing the last bite, and quickly swallowed before promptly moving on to the meat loaf, followed by the chicken wings.

Jeez, does he ever slow down to breathe? Nick thought to himself. And I feel like he’s just getting started. Nick ate a few bites of his ham slices, and mac and cheese on the side. When he looked back up, Daniel’s buffalo wings had been reduced to six picked-clean bones piled up on the plate, being drenched with grease dripping from Daniel’s calzone. Nick watched as Daniel’s eyes rolled back slightly and closed with pleasure every time he swallowed. He’s enjoying it. It’s like sex on a plate to him! he thought.

Daniel finished the 3 quesadilla slices, and pressed a napkin to his mouth. And then he burped. He tried to quiet it, but his hand and the napkin did little to muffle the rumbling gas that burbled up and out of him. It lasted nearly 5 seconds in all, and Nick could even feel the vibration through the table.

“You good, dude?” Nick asked.

“Uh, ‘scuse me, heh heh.” Daniel wiped his mouth and rolled his eyes, trying and failing to play off his prior eruption.

“Damn dude, you really put that shit away.” Nick gestured to the now empty plate before him.

“What can I say? I’m hungry as fuck.”

“You mean you were hungry as fuck.”

“I dunno man, that belch freed up some room.” Daniel said, patting his stomach. His belly had always been a little large, or at least proportionally big compared to the rest of his body, but now it was visibly distended. More? How could he possibly still be hungry? Nick wondered, and watched as he purposefully strolled back to the buffet line. He had just packed away more than 3000 calories as if it were nothing. Nick couldn’t help but feel intimidated, yet drawn to Daniel’s ability to consume like some kind of alpha male. 

By the end of it, Daniel had downed a second plate. And a third. And a shish-kabob. And not one, but two bowls of ice cream for dessert.

Daniel polished off the second bowl, and released another burp, not even trying to muzzle it this time. Nick sat in awe. He himself had managed two plates and a scoop of ice cream, but his dishes were nowhere near as heavily packed as Daniel’s.

“Oof, I think I’m about ready to put a cork in it, bro.” Daniel said, fiddling with his pants belt.

He stood up, revealing his overstuffed abdomen. In the past hour it had taken them to eat, it had grown from a miniscule, doughy bump to a basketball-sized food baby. They headed out to the parking lot, and Daniel lifted his shirt to give his belly a little massage. Nick couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“So that’s where you put it all.” Nick said, blank-faced, and finding himself weirdly intrigued by this bodily transformation.

Daniel turned to face Nick. He burped again, managing to muffle it into a low hiss this time, and replied, “I’m not a bottomless pit after all, haha. It’s gotta go somewhere, y’know.” He looked down at Nick, grinning, and gently patted the underside of his bloat to make it jiggle.

“Uh, yeah, heh heh.” Nick replied, watching his friend’s flab bounce.

“Hey, you want to come over and hang for a while? That anime you like came out on Netflix.” Daniel offered.

“Yeah, sure! I’d love to let it hang out with you. Er, hang out with you.” Nick said. An unexplainable chill ran through him.

They hopped back in Daniel’s car and headed off to his apartment. Nick kept glancing over toward Daniel, still in disbelief at the size of his stomach. In the intermittent illumination from passing streetlamps, he saw it bulging and spilling out in between the seat belt straps. He also saw the physique of the rest of Daniel’s body - his arms and chest were defined, and his quads were still bulging from the prior workout. His left arm was fully extended, lazily gripping the top of the steering wheel, his other resting sandwiched between his thigh and his belly flab.

When they arrived at Daniel’s apartment, they went to his couch, turned on the TV, and waited for the streaming service to connect.

“Whoof!” Daniel exhaled, as he collapsed onto the couch. He reclined in the corner with the armrest and the back cushion, and extended one hand behind his head, the other poking his abdomen again. “Heh heh, maybe I overdid it.”

“Nahhh,” Nick said absentmindedly, staring at Daniel’s gut.

“Uh, don’t you think so?” Daniel grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Nick realized what he’d responded with, and simply blushed. 

“Yo, I’m about to burst, jeez.” Daniel lifted his shirt further and fumbled with his belt. “I gotta undo this, I’m dying. You’re cool with that, right?” Daniel said, popping his belt buckle open.

Nick paused, still staring, and said, “D-Do what you gotta do, man.”

Daniel’s exposed belly shone in the soft light of the television. He gripped the button of his jeans, pulled with a grunt, “Unnnh!” and popped open the waist of his pants, sinking backward into the cushions as he did so, as if overcome with relief. He pulled down his zipper, and the lower part of his abdomen spilled out, and rested upon his thighs ever so slightly. Then he lifted his belly to grab the waistband of his underwear, and tuck it downward, so that his gut now hung out completely, unrestricted. His stomach gurgled audibly. Daniel put a hand on his chest and belched loudly. Good lord, he has no shame about this at all, he’s just sprawled out, digesting and not giving a fuck. Nick thought. He’d never experienced anything quite like this before.

“Damn, ‘scuse me, heh heh. Sorry about that.” Daniel said, his abdomen continuing to rumble periodically.

“Don’t be.” Nick said quickly, unsure of why he had received such a feeling of satisfaction from someone else’s burp.

Just then, the streaming service loaded, and Daniel leaned forward to pick up the TV remote, and let out a slight groan, the sides of his belly folding into rolls as he did so. Daniel gripped the remote with both hands and said, “This dumb thing doesn’t work right, I need to get it fixed. The show won’t play unless you hold the On-Demand and Play buttons at the same time, for the first few minutes.”

Daniel reclined again and held the two buttons, extending both hands toward the TV, further exposing his belly in his lap. The theme song of the aging anime started on the screen. The catchy, angelic tune emanated from the TV, but wasn’t enough to muffle further rumbling from Daniel’s stomach.

Daniel looked down at it between his arms. “Ugh, it’s sitting in me like a rock. I really gotta burp again.”

Nick was fixated on Daniel, not paying a moment of attention to the anime on the TV. “H-heh, bet you could use a belly rub right now.”

“Ugh, you know it, bro.” Daniel replied.

Nick paused for a long while, staring at Daniel’s plump gut, resting in his lap. “You know… I guess, maybe, if you wanted to, I could rub your belly for you.”

Daniel looked over at Nick, and let out a soft chuckle.

Nick stuttered, nervous he’d made things weird. “I-I mean, uh, since your hands are full, and like-”

“Sure, bro. Come on over.” Daniel said smiling.

“Uh, seriously? I mean, okay.” Nick said warily.

“Yeah man, what else are bros for? Also I’m dying over here, I’ve never been this bloated.” Daniel reassured him, as Nick slid toward his end of the couch. “If I could get a quick massage down there that would be great.” Daniel reclined, and turned his body toward Nick slightly.

Nick rubbed his hands together to warm them, and gazed upon Daniel’s rumbling, distended tummy. In the low light from the television, he could see that it had bulged from under his ribcage, giving the top an almost triangular shape, but became sublimely rounded closer to his navel, and at the underbelly, which spilled between the zipper of his jeans and onto his thighs. There was almost no hair on his tummy, save for a light sprinkling of peach fuzz surrounding his navel, and trailing downward towards his manhood. His belly button, which Nick had earlier seen to protrude slightly outward, had all but disappeared into the newly chubbier, squishy mass of belly.

Nick hesitated to take in the sight up close. “Y-you ready?” he looked up at Daniel.

“Go ahead, bro.” Daniel replied with a smile.

Gingerly, Nick placed a hand - starting with the fingertips - atop Daniel’s belly, and he could feel the warmth and softness of his exposed skin. He placed his other hand on it as well - the fingers wrapped around the side of his belly, while the thumb lightly gripped in Daniel’s sunken navel. He slowly pressed into the soft skin until it reached a point and became firmer, the bloat caused by all the food. Nick blushed and remembered that he was giving a massage, not just feeling his friend for pleasure.

Nick began to press more firmly and move his hands in a slow, rhythmic motion surrounding Daniel’s navel. 

“Like this?”

“Almost.” Daniel replied, his eyes closing in bliss.

Nick continued, pressing firmer still, and re-orienting himself on the couch to press and knead from different angles. Nick could still feel Daniel’s stomach rumbling about, working away at the mass of food. Periodically Daniel would let out a small burp, and Nick could feel the vibrations starting deep within his friend’s body, and burbling up and out. Nick wondered what kind of relief he was bringing his friend, if Daniel’s tummy was faring any better due to the massages and release of gas.

“Move your right hand down a little.” Daniel instructed. Nick slid his hand down below the navel, closer to Daniel’s left leg.

“Unh, down more. And press.” Daniel said, sounding almost desperate.

Nick obeyed, his hand now brushing against the front of Daniel’s jeans, and the waist of his underwear. He pressed harder in this lower area, under the stomach, and felt something shift, as if he’d freed up some mass deep within Daniel’s swollen gut.

“Right there, that’s it -” Daniel started, before he was cut off by a sudden, intense rumble, followed by the loudest burp Nick had ever heard. Nick’s head was positioned right near the top of Daniel’s abdominal area, and he could hear the massive expulsion of gas, and feel the tummy deflating. The burp lasted nearly a full ten seconds, and Nick looked up at Daniel, chuckling.

“Man, you feel any better after that?” he asked.

Daniel hesitated to catch his breath, “Yes, oh my God, I needed that.” he said, groaning. Daniel set down the remote, as the show was playing properly now.

At this point Nick was in acceptance that he was aroused by all this, and continued softly massaging Daniel’s gut, which was finally settled, more or less. Nick prodded experimentally around Daniel’s belly button, curious if he could help his friend release additional pressure. Daniel rewarded his friend’s work with several more burps, each bringing him blissful relief as the pressure in his gut gradually decreased. Finally, Daniel’s stomach was settled, and Nick felt the mass beginning to move downward into the lower intestines.

“Thank you, bro. That felt amazing.” Daniel said, grinning as he looked down at Nick, whose hands were still feeling his belly.

“My pleasure!” Nick replied with a toothy grin. He realized that seeing his friend stuffed, and helping him through tummy trouble, made him feel a delight he’d never experienced before. He stayed still, save for his hands, waiting for Daniel to say he’d done enough. But it seemed to Nick that his friend was just letting him stay there, his hands on his tummy, for as long as he wanted.

Eventually Nick fell asleep, his head on Daniel’s lap, and he listened to the last remaining soft gurgles from deep within his friend’s tummy as he drifted off. Daniel soon found himself nodding off as well, in an irresistible food coma, his hand resting on Nick’s back. He fell asleep, happily dreaming of tomorrow’s breakfast.

“

And that’s that, hope y’all enjoyed 😅

The First Step - Chapter IV

Omg hi! I am so sorry this took so long to get out. It took me a lot longer than expected to write but anyways, it’s here now!

This chapter is a lot longer than the others I’ve written in this mini series. I had a lot that I wanted to include and didn’t realize how much it was until I re-read this so I hope you like this huge chapter of pure fluff. :)

Finally, this is the last chapter of this story. I had so much fun writing it and it makes me very happy to see that you guys enjoyed it as much as you did. (I may write a mini Sequel with one or two parts. Maybe write the wedding I don’t know yet.) but moving on, as I’ve said before, thank you for all the love, and enjoy. <3

The First Step Masterlist & Full Masterlist

Characters and universe belong to, @lumosinlove

CW: mentions of food.

—

The team had finished practice and were now skating off the ice, tired, sweaty and ready to cool down in the gym and head to the showers. Well, maybe just the Cubs planned on doing that. The rest of the team however, unbeknownst to them, had other things in mind.

Walking into the locker room Finn, Logan and Leo were all grabbed by the shoulders and sat down in whoever’s stall was closest.

“Alright boys, sit the fuck down and tells us how this happened. Details. Go.” James prodded.

“You just sat us down” Logan deadpanned, smirk playing at his lips.

Finn huffed, though he was smiling—still. “Can we at least get out of our gear first? Get a shower-“

“No!” The entire team shouted back.

Finn put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay we’ll tell you.” He then looked to Logan. “Lo?”

Logan stood up and walked over to join Leo; who had been sat down at the other side of the room— in, from what Logan could see, looked like kuny’s stall— sitting down next to him and intertwining their fingers. Finn wasn’t long joining the two and then Logan took a deep breath, “It wasn’t anything special-“

He was cut off by Leo smacking his arm. Logan rolled his eyes playfully and continued, “Fine. It wasn’t anything big and fancy.”

One week earlier

The sun was streaming trough the blinds of their bedroom window when Logan woke up, sandwiched between his boys. Opening his eyes, squinting slightly from both sleep and the brightness of the room, he looked at Leo and Finn. In the morning sun he could see every little detail of them— every little detail that he loved. Hundreds of freckles adorned Finn’s face, fanning over his cheekbones and nose going all the way down to his shoulders; resembling the thousands of stars in the sky. Careful not to wake him Logan turned over to get a better look at Leo, who had his arm loosely around his waist. He noticed that, in the sun, the younger boy’s hair looked more like the sun than the sun itself. The blonde and white strands glistening and glowing in the light. Logan had to hold himself back from running his fingers through it. He loved these boys so so much and today was the day they would learn just how much.

Today was the day.

Logan peeked over Leo’s shoulder to look at the clock on the nightstand, it read ‘6:15 am’. That was good. Leo and Finn wouldn’t be up for at least another three hours, four if he was lucky— it was Saturday after all and they had nothing they needed to do today. Logan had gotten unbelievably lucky by coach giving them the day off.— he had time.

Sighing to himself he removed Leo’s arm, carefully climbed over Finn and got out off bed. He padded around the house for a little, toothbrush in one hand phone in the other, sending texts and making preparations for the day. After he was finally dressed and ready to go he gave his boys one last kiss on the cheek and he was gone.

—

“Thank you, Celeste, for doing this on such short notice,” Logan said as he sat down at the Dumais’ kitchen island.

“De rien, Logan. You know I don’t mind. But are you going to tell me why I had to cook all this food last night?”

“Well... I can... but you can’t tell anyone, not even Dumo.”

Celeste furrowed her eyebrows but motioned for him to continue.

“...I’m proposing today.” Logan said, his voice barely above a whisper. The rest of the Dumais’ were still asleep but he couldn’t risk anything.

Though his efforts were probably in vain because Celeste let out a very loud gasp at that, quickly covering her mouth and looking towards the stairs, listening for any sign someone had woken up. After the house stayed quiet she looked back at Logan.

“Logan... that’s amazing.” Celeste walked over to Logan and placed a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth, Logan couldn’t describe how it made him feel. But he decided on happy for the time being. He was proposing today. “Moi aussi....”

Celeste stepped back and Logan met her eyes, “My lips are sealed.” She said, he just smiled at her.

“Now. You should get going, I don’t know when those boys of yours will be up but I know mine will be soon, so” Celeste pushed the dishes of food towards Logan and poked him in the arm. “Go. Get.”

Logan chuckled. “d'accord, d'accord I’m going.”

—

On second thought maybe Logan had gotten up to early.

He’d wanted to make sure he had enough time to do everything it was he needed get done. And he had gotten everything done, which was good. But it was still only 8:30 am, and Logan was just standing in his kitchen unsure of what to do next. He could wake them up... but he didn’t wanna do that, it was their day off. But at the same time, being here alone and just waiting for them to wake up was driving him crazy.

So Logan decided he wouldn’t wait alone. Taking one last look at the array of food before him, he set off for the bedroom.

Finn and Leo were exactly where they were when Logan left a few hours before, except now Finn was rolled over onto his back and had his arm thrown over his face, Leo laying a bit closer to him than before.

He smiled at how cute they looked and tiptoed over to the bed, dropping himself down beside Leo and waited. Letting his mind run wild with what was about to happen.

—

Leo woke up about an hour later, after rubbing his eyes and stretching he felt a hand on his back and a kiss to his shoulder. Leo smiled softly and turned over. “Hmm, morning.” He said, nuzzling into Logan’s chest.

“Bon matin, mon amour.” Logan greeted him, just as Finn started to stir. He groaned and his eyes meet Logan’s as they opened.

“I’m the sleepyhead s’morning I see.” He said, upon seeing his boyfriends next to him already awake.

Logan huffed out a laugh. “Morning to you too, Harz.”

Finn just smiled and got up on an elbow, leaning over Leo he gave Logan a quick kiss on the lips. “Morning.” He said, pulling away.

He then moved from Logan to Leo, bending down and kissing his jaw, the only part of the boy’s face that was exposed. “Morning Peanut.”

“Hmm.” Was the only response he got.

Finn laughed into Leo’s neck. “You awake yet?”

“Mm’no” Leo replied, word muffled my Logan’s chest.

“Well you can go back to sleep for a little bit, okay?”

“M’kay” Leo mumbled, Finn did not have to tell him twice.

They stayed quiet for another few minutes, enjoying each other’s company before Finn asked, “So what’s on the schedule for today?”

“Nothing.” Leo, who had finally decided to wake up said, rolling onto his back. “I’m staying here. All day.”

“Well as much as I’d love to do that mon chéri, I have something planned.” Logan chimed in.

“And what would that be?” Finn challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see.” Logan smirked. “C’mon.” He said, standing up and grabbing one of their hands each.

“Ugh fine.” Leo groaned though he was now curious as to what Logan had in store for them.

“So moody in the morning, Peanut.” Finn said teasingly.

“Oh hush you.” Leo playfully smacked his arm.

That only made Finn smile.

“C’mon,” Logan singsonged, pulling them forward. “you’re so slow.”

Despite all his previous nerves about this day, now that it was here Logan was surprised to find out that those feelings had miraculously disappeared and he felt completely fine. The only emotion flowing through him being pure euphoria. He was everything but nervous and he thanked whatever was responsible for that.

Finn and Leo were finally up and smiling brightly, Logan immediately stared dragging them out of the bedroom, walking backwards so he could catch their reactions.

They had just reached the living room when Leo and Finn froze. From here they could see the arrangement of food that sat in the kitchen. There were trays of cinnamon rolls, fruits and berries and well, anything you could thing of. Logan might have gone overboard, but he really didn’t care at the moment.

“Oh.” Leo broke the silence, staring over Logan’s shoulder.

“What’s the occasion?” Finn asked.

“No occasion.” Logan replied. “I just love you.”

Logan dropped their hands and walked the rest of the way to the kitchen. “Hello? Are you just going to stand there all day or do you want some breakfast?”

The two other boys were moving again and in no time had two plates of food in front of them.

“So, Lo” Leo started, after three had been eating in silence for a while. “Where did all this food come from? Because you certainly didn’t cook it.”

Logan let out a mock gasp at that. “How dare you underestimate my cooking skills!”

“What!? Am I lying?”

“No.” Finn said around a mouthful of eggs.

Logan flicked a blueberry at him.

“Hey!”

Next to them, Leo laughed, “Alright, alright don’t waste the food.”

Finn jerked his head at Leo, “The chef in that one is coming out.” He said to Logan, who laughed.

Finn got another blueberry flicked at him, this time by Leo.

—

Logan had to get the rings.

After the three had eaten breakfast they had all made their way to the couch and were now tangled around each other, relaxing and watching a movie. It was the perfect moment. But of course, Logan didn’t have the rings on him. They were at the end of the hallway, stashed in the back of a closet. The only place Logan could think of where they wouldn’t be found accidentally. He had to get them.

“Finn?” Logan tried to get Finns attention.

Finn hummed showing he was listening, though his eyes were fixed on the tv.

“Can you let me up for a second?” Logan asked. Like always, he was squished between the two of them.

“Mhmm.” Finn replied and stood up to let Logan go.

“Wait!” Leo said Suddenly, arms outstretched. “where are you going? Come back.”

“I’ll be back Knutty, don’t worry.” Logan laughed, walking away. “I’m just getting blankets.”

And in no time Logan was back, with a blanket in one hand and two rings in his back pocket.

“You’re the best.” Finn said as Logan handed him the blanket.

Leo sat up, taking the blanket from Finn and putting his feet in his lap. He motioned for Logan to sit next to him and then put the blanket over them.

“Je t’aime.” Logan whispered pecking Leo on the lips, he reached out and grabbed Finn’s hand. “You too, Fish.”

‘Here goes nothing’ Logan thought. He picked up the remote and turned the tv off.

“Lo, what are you doing?” Confusion laced Finn’s voice

“Do you know how much I love you?Both of you?” Logan was now gripping both of their hands like his life depended on it. The next thing that came out of his mouth even surprised him, “épouse-moi?”

Leo froze.

“W- what?” Finn asked, heart rate picking up.

Logan reached into his back pocket; when his hand reappeared he was holding three identical sliver bands in his palm. “Marry me?” He said again, firmer this time.

When no one said anything Logan continued, “I could get started on all that, ‘oh we’re to young and I don’t know if we’re ready’ shit, but I won’t. If you’re ready I’m ready. And if you’re not, then I’ll be here when you are; Because I love you both so much and I’d wait eternity for you. So... marry me?”

Logan looked back and forth between the two. Leo was first to break the silence, “Yes.” He breathed and Logan finally let his smile show.

He turned to Finn who was still staring at the rings in his hand. “Fish?”

Finn finally tore his eyes away from the rings and when he looked up Logan noticed a tear making it’s way down his face. Logan smiled softly at him.

“Yes. Oh my god, yes!” He beamed and tackled Logan in a hug, only breaking away to pull Leo in as well.

They fell into the couch again, in a puddle of happy tears, kisses and whispered I love you’s. Fully ready to start the next chapter of their lives, being with each other every step of the way.

As Logan placed the rings on their fingers the last thing Finn said before he was tacked by two boys and a bunch of pillows was, “Fuck, I love my life.”

Present day

Logan finished his story and looked around at his teammates, Dumo spoke up first. “Wait. Celeste knew and I didn’t!? Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Because I wanted it to be a surp- hmff” Logan was hit Square in the stomach by a hockey glove— thrown by Dumo of course.

“Rude.” Logan mumbled.

Leo looked to his left, hoping to find Finn. Instead, something else caught his eye and he burst out laughing, “Potts are you crying?” He asked.

“No!”

Honolulu: Pearl Harbor, Punchbowl

July 24, 2021

We were to meet our driver at 8am this morning for our day at Pearl Harbor and the Punchbowl. There was much confusion about what to pack, since Pearl Harbor doesn’t allow bags at all – except maybe a small clear sandwich bag. I brought my home made wristlet – made out of a clear sandwich bag and some duck tape. We all packed things in my little wristlet for the day.

We got down to the little sitting area next to the pull-through driveway and our group was congregated with our guide for the day, Olav. Olav told us that we didn’t actually have anywhere to be until 1:30pm, so we had some time to make sure that we all had what we needed. And also that he would be with us all day and we’d be in the same car all day. He also strongly recommended hats and water bottles. We made several trips back up to the room to grab things. We also learned that Olav is unvaccinated, doesn’t believe in COVID-19, and is a staunch Republican who believes in his “Constitutional rights.” He is also an incredible font of knowledge about Pearl Harbor, and only occasionally threw in some of his slanted views. There is no way I’m going to be able to capture, or remember, all the information he told us – it was a continuous stream of knowledge for about 8 hours.

Eventually, we had all of our stuff, and we walked to the 15-passenger van, parked on the street behind the hotel. After we got settled, Olav took off through the city to the Punchbowl. The Punchbowl is a volcanic crater in the hills surrounding Honolulu. The center is a bowl – the crater – and they punched a hole through one of the crater’s rims to allow entry into the bowl. Hence the name – Punchbowl. Inside the Punchbowl is a national cemetery. There’s a monument at the end of it, and on the steps up to the monument is where Hawai’i holds memorial services for Veteran’s Day and Dec. 7. We’re not allowed to get out inside the Punchbowl, but we can drive through. Lining the driveway in the Punchbowl are Banyan trees donated to the US from China. China was our ally during World War II, and we helped to defeat the Japanese who had invaded and were conquering China. There are 48 trees, which represent the 48 states at the time of World War II. They’re beautiful trees that have been groomed to prevent additional roots from taking root.

The area is quiet and calm, and beautiful. There are no traditional white headstones like in Arlington. Instead, the headstones are flat. They used to be white wooden crosses but were changed to flat stone headstones to respect other religions – and allow for easier maintenance.

From the Punchbowl, we drove to Pearl Harbor, and to the USS Missouri BB 63, which is now a museum. As we drove through the city, Olav pointed out a neighborhood that burned when a bomb went astray on Dec. 7, 1941. He also described in detail what happened on Dec. 7, 1941 – the day Pearl Harbor was attacked. We learned about the SS Cynthia Olson which was sank en route from the mainland and Honolulu by a Japanese submarine on the morning of Dec. 7, 1941. The passenger ship was carrying two soldiers to Honolulu but was a passenger ship. There’s a photo of the Cynthia Olson as it was sinking taken by a Japanese soldier on the submarine. The Cynthia Olson got a may day call out, and another passenger ship heard the call. That second passenger ship confiscated all the passenger’s binoculars and assigned watch duty to the passengers. When that ship landed, the USA government confiscated all of their radio records and logs. Olav believes the records were confiscated because they show the time of the Cynthia Olson’s may day call. If that call happened before the bombing at Pearl Harbor, but was ignored, it would look very bad for the US military command.

As we entered the Pearl Harbor base, we drove to a parking lot and Olav left us to get an officer who cam back and searched our van for bags. Once that was done, we drove over the bridge to Ford Island and the USS Missouri BB-63. BB-63 stands for Battle Boat 63 – the 63rd battleship the US built. This is necessary because there have been four USS Missouri’s. The current USS Missouri is a submarine that was also docked at Pearl Harbor today. Of course you can’t call it BS-63 (battleship 63) – so battle boat 63 it is. The BB-63 was the last battleship built in the world, the most powerful, and the last one to retire. It was launched during World War II, saw battle in the Battle of Okinawa, was where the Instrument of Surrender was signed by the Japanese to officially end World War II, served in the Korean War, was decommissioned in the 60s, then refitted in the 80s, saw duty in Desert Storm, before finally being retired in the early 90s, then being made into a museum. Its parked in Battleship Row – where all the Battleships were anchored on Dec. 7.

Olav told us a lot about how the Pacific Fleet came to be in Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7 – but then he seemed to contradict himself. The first story was that FDR ordered the Pacific Fleet to all be at Pearl Harbor as a “show of strength” to deter the Japanese. The Admiral of the Pacific Fleet thought this was stupid, because normally the Pacific Fleet rotated between several locations, and there was not enough of a supply chain, let alone docking berths, to allow the entire fleet to be in Pearl Harbor. He resisted, basically told FDR he was dumb, and lost his job. He had worked on the supply line, though, and worked on the docking situation too – which is how Battleship Row came to be.

As he told this story, I gathered that the next Admiral did as FDR wished and assembled the entire Pacific Fleet in Pearl Harbor. Olav made a point to say that FDR ignored the military advisors, and his Admiral, and all their knowledge to demand the fleet be in Pearl Harbor. Later, he told us that every year, the Admiral of the Pacific Fleet was required to inspect the fleet in Pearl Harbor. This always occurred on the Monday after the first Sunday in December. In 1941, that was Dec. 8. The Fleet was required to report to Pearl Harbor 24 -48 hours in advance of the inspection. Which then means that the fleet was assembled in Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7 in preparation for the inspection on Dec. 8 – which doesn’t seem to have a lot to do with FDR.

The deck of the Mighty Mo is covered in teak, which they did to preserve the steel deck, to lower the temperature inside the boat, and to provide a natural nonslip surface. The teak on the deck has been replaced three times, all using different processes. One time they messed up trying to save money by putting 1 inch of Douglas Fir below 1 inch of team (instead of 2 inches of teak) – not realizing that Douglas Fir rots faster than teak.

During WWII, the Missouri was attacked by a Kamikaze, which was captured perfectly on camera. We saw the place where the Kamikaze’s wing impacted with the Missouri. We also saw footprints on the deck where our personnel stood as they buried the Kamikaze pilot at sea as directed by the Missouri’s captain.

We toured the inside of the ship, which was interesting. They had several displays with stuff from the Missouri, the history of the Missouri, remnants from the Kamikaze attack, etc. We walked through the galley, the kitchens, the offices – including the dental office – the food lines, including the donut shop, the fast food line, and the Truman line, so called because the Truman family visited and used that food line. There were crew quarters everywhere – berths stacked 3 high, and each sailor’s locker. The kitchens were crazy – the appliances were huge, and they had everything you could want! Well, all the kitchen toys you could want. The Missouri was the first ship to have a network of interconnected computers which they called MO-Net. This was all before the internet was created. The inside of the Missouri was extensive – it seemed to go on and on. We saw throughout the ship ammunition chutes. And a couple of places that would be vulnerable to armor piercing rounds which can pierce through 16” of steel – so these areas were outfitted with 17” think steel. The guns on the ship were huge and could take out a target 25 miles away. The guns had to be fired over the water, because the rounds were fired at twice the speed of sound, and the concussion would tear the ship apart if the guns were fired over the ship. Missouri, the state, was responsible for providing the fancy silverware and place settings – which is interesting. There was a great map that showed where all of the different USS Missouris served. We saw the Chief’s lounge, and the Captain’s lounge, which was also used as a war room, and the tables can be used as operating tables in a pinch. It was a great insight into what the ship would have looked like while it was in service.

When we were finished touring the inside of the boat, we went to the deck, and then to the Quarter Deck. On the Mighty Mo, the Quarter Deck has been renamed the Surrender Deck, because it was where the Japanese surrendered to the Allied Forces to end World War II. Olav told a story about how MacArthur stepped out of the navigation bridge to walk down to the Quarter Deck but noticed that the Japanese contingent hadn’t arrived yet. So he went back inside, saying, “I’m not going to wait for them. They will wait for me.” He also told us that the British brought a fancy table they wanted to use for the signing, but the papers they were signing were too large to fit on the table. The Missouri’s Captain ordered a seaman to grab a folding table from the ship, and they used that. One of the Japanese had a false leg, and as he was coming up to sign the papers, he stumbled and hit one of the legs of the folding table. The crew, who knew it was a folding table, held their breath for the rest of the ceremony – hoping that the table didn’t collapse. (It didn’t.)

On the Surrender Deck, there is a plaque where the table was and the documents were signed. There’s also a display with replicas of the documents. On the replicas, you can see that the Canadian representative signed on the wrong line on the first document. There’s a picture of someone making sure that he signed on the correct line on the second copy!

They’ve positioned the Missouri so that the bow of the battleship points to the bow of the USS Arizona. The ship that started the US involvement in WWII and the ship where WWII ended pointing to each other.

We finished on the Missouri, went to the gift shop, got some Dole Whip, and then drove to the Pearl Harbor Memorial area for lunch. Lunch was at a permanent food truck outside, and was decent, although Meg and Marie didn’t like their nachos or hot dog. After lunch, we went to watch a 20-minute movie about the attack on Pearl Harbor, before making our way to the ferry to the USS Arizona Memorial.

Olav detailed how the attack happened but of course I’m not going to remember everything. There were three waves of attacks – the dive bombers, the torpedoes, and the other type of bombers. Eek. They came from different directions, and in two separate waves. There were about… or over?... 300 planes in total. The battle lasted for 2 hours. Most all of the ships that were sunk were eventually retrieved and put back into service, except for the Arizona, the Oklahoma, and the Utah. The Japanese adjusted bombs? Or torpedoes? With an additional fin that allowed them to fun in the shallow waters of Pearl Harbor and hit Battleship row. I think Olav also indicated that the aerial bombers were not the ones that caused the most damage, generally – it was the torpedoes.

The ride out to the memorial was quick – the warnings about not misbehaving on an active Navy boat were almost as long as the ride itself. Once the ferry docks, we disembarked, and headed back to the back room. The memorial itself is a white concrete building. The architect was a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps and wanted to build the memorial to remember the lives that were spent to save and free so many across the world, including in the concentration camps. The structure is a loose U-shape. The low point in the middle represents initial defeat at Pearl Harbor. The inclines on either side represent the slow climb to victory in Europe and the slow climb to victory in the Pacific. There are seven cut outs along either side and the top, which were for structural integrity, but have later been said to represent a 21-gun salute. The structure is situated across the middle of the sunken USS Arizona – the ship heaviest hit by the attack on Dec. 7. 1,177 seamen were lost with the Arizona and never recovered. Another 41 of the survivors, or relatives of those lost, have chosen to be interred in the Arizona.

As soon as I set foot on the dock, I smelled the oil or gasoline from the wreck. You could see it on the water, too. There is oil still leaking from the ship and will continue to leak for decades more. There were a lot of people at the memorial, but it was mostly quiet, as is fitting. We walked right back to the room where the names of those buried here are displayed. It’s made of the same marble as the headstones in Arlington. The room is beautiful but somber.

Just outside of that room is a hole in the floor of the structure that is situated over a part of the ship. I didn’t see much there. Outside, on either end of the structure, there are two white buoys that represent where the bow and the stern of the ship are. There are also pieces of the ship, like the gun turrets, and the flag staff, that are still sticking out above the water. It was a moving experience.

After the ferry back to the main site, we went and toured the USS Bowfin – a retired submarine that is only 27’ in circumference. It was tiny, and holy cow does it seem miserable to have served on it. They call it the Silent Service – the work of the submarines. The Bowfin was launched on Dec. 7, 1942, and was therefore nicknamed The Pearl Harbor Avenger. The kitchen was tiny, and only had minimal toys. Olav tells us that the food was cooked on the mainland, frozen, and placed in the submarine’s freezers.

The worst thing was hot bunking. There were only 36 bunks on board the submarine, but about 86 sailors on board. So they rotated beds – multiple people shared a bed. With the temperatures on the submarine running in the 90s or 100s, the beds were wet with the other guy’s sweat. Yuck.

The doorways between the areas of the ship were so small and short too! It was a workout to squat and contort myself through the doorways.

After the Bowfin, we drove back to the city Olav was kind enough to drive us to Costco. This Costco is the busiest on in America. I didn’t go in, but the parking lot was crazy! Anne, Aimee, and Marie went in to get food for the next few days, and they did a great job! Then, it was back to the hotel, and our time with Olav was over. He is a knowledgeable, talkative tour guide to be sure!

Back in the room, some of us split up for naps and downtime until dinner at 6:30. Rileys, Drew, and Todd stayed at our place to watch the Olympics and drink the 5th of rum we bought the night before. Todd made us a whole series of frozen drinks that were great, and did the job! We had a raucous good time watching Men’s Street Skateboarding, where the athletes wiped out more than they landed tricks. It was brutal!

We had tacos for dinner, and continued watching the Olympics, and the activity on the ocean. From our view from the living room and our balcony, we can see all the hundreds of surfers always hanging out on the water, and the couple that actually make surfing runs. There’s a lot of boat traffic, including a lot of boats that go out to watch the sunset. There’s also a surprising number of large cargo ships that travel pretty close to this beach. It was a great time tonight!

Richard Siken - You Are Jeff

1 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which twin you are in love with at the time. Do not choose sides yet. It is still to your advan- tage to remain impartial. Both motorbikes are shiny red and both boys have perfect teeth, dark hair, soft hands. The one in front will want to take you apart, and slowly. His deft and stubby fingers searching every shank and lock for weaknesses. You could love this boy with all your heart. The other brother only wants to stitch you back together. The sun shines down. It’s a beautiful day. Consider the hairpin turn. Do not choose sides yet.

2 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road. Let’s call them Jeff. And because the first Jeff is in front we’ll consider him the older, and therefore responsible for lending money and the occa- sional punch in the shoulder. World-wise, world-weary, and not his mother’s favorite, this Jeff will always win when it all comes down to fisticuffs. Unfortunately for him, it doesn’t always all come down to fisticuffs. Jeff is thinking about his brother down the winding road be- hind him. He is thinking that if only he could cut him open and peel him back and crawl inside this second skin, then he could relive that last mile again: reborn, wild-eyed, free.

3 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which Jeff you are. It could have been so beautiful—you scout out the road ahead and I will watch your back, how it was and how it will be, memory and fantasy— but each Jeff wants to be the other one. My name is Jeff and I’m tired of looking at the back of your head. My name is Jeff and I’m tired of seeing my hand me down clothes. Look, Jeff, I’m telling you, for the last time, I mean it, etcetera. They are the same and they are not the same. They are the same and they hate each other for it.

4 Your name is Jeff and somewhere up ahead of you your brother has pulled to the side of the road and he is waiting for you with a lug wrench clutched in his greasy fist. O how he loves you, darling boy. O how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night. When he throws the wrench into the air it will catch the light as it spins toward you. Look—it looks like a star. You had expected something else, anything else, but the wrench never reaches you. It hangs in the air like that, spinning in the air like that. It’s beautiful.

5 Let’s say God in his High Heaven is hungry and has decided to make himself some tuna fish sandwiches. He’s already finished making two of them, on sourdough, before he realizes that the fish is bad. What is he going to do with these sandwiches? They’re already made, but he doesn’t want to eat them.

Let’s say the Devil is played by two men. We’ll call them Jeff. Dark hair, green eyes, white teeth, pink tongues—they’re twins. The one on the left has gone bad in the middle, and the other one on the left is about to. As they wrestle, you can tell that they have forgotten about God, and they are very hungry.

6 You are playing cards with three men named Jeff. Two of the Jeffs seem somewhat familiar, but the Jeff across from you keeps staring at your hands, your mouth, and you’re certain that you’ve never seen this Jeff before. But he’s on your team, and you’re ahead, you’re winning big, and yet the other Jeffs keep smiling at you like there’s no tomorrow. They all have perfect teeth: white, square, clean, even. And, for some reason, the lighting in the room makes their teeth seem closer than they should be, as if each mouth was a place, a living room with pink carpet and the window’s open. Come back from the window, Jefferson. Take off those wet clothes and come over here, by the fire.

7 You are playing cards with three Jeffs. One is your father, one is your brother, and the other is your current boyfriend. All of them have seen you naked and heard you talking in your sleep. Your boyfriend Jeff gets up to answer the phone. To them he is a mirror, but to you he is a room. Phone’s for you, Jeff says. Hey! It’s Uncle Jeff, who isn’t really your uncle, but you can’t talk right now, one of the Jeffs has put his tongue in your mouth. Please let it be the right one.

8 Two brothers are fighting by the side of the road. Two motorbikes have fallen over on the shoulder, leaking oil into the dirt, while the interlocking brothers grapple and swing. You see them through the backseat window as you and your parents drive past. You are twelve years old. You do not have a brother. You have never experienced anything this ferocious or intentional with another person. Your mother is pretending that she hasn’t seen anything. Your father is fiddling with the knobs of the radio. There is an empty space next to you in the backseat of the station wagon. Make it the shape of everything you need. Now say hello.

9 You are in an ordinary suburban bedroom with bunk beds, a bookshelf, two wooden desks and chairs. You are lying on your back, on the top bunk, very close to the textured ceiling, staring straight at it in fact, and the room is still dark except for a wedge of powdery light that spills in from the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom is covered in mint green tile and someone is in there, singing very softly. Is he singing to you? For you? Black cherries in chocolate, the ring around the moon, a bee- tle underneath a glass—you cannot make out all the words, but you’re sure he knows you’re in there, and he’s singing to you, even though you don’t know who he is.

10 You see it as a room, a tabernacle, the dark hotel. You’re in the hallway again, and you open the door, and if you’re ready you’ll see it, but maybe one part of your mind decides that the other parts aren’t ready, and then you don’t remember where you’ve been, and you find yourself down the hall again, the lights gone dim as the left hand sings the right hand back to sleep. It’s a puzzle: each piece, each room, each time you put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, your ear to the wound that whispers.

You’re in the hallway again. The radio is playing your favorite song. You’re in the hallway. Open the door again. Open the door.

11 Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. Can the heart escape? Does love even care? Snow falls as we dump the booth in the bay.

Suppose for a moment we are crowded around a pier, waiting for something to ripple the water. We believe in you. There is no danger. It is not getting dark, we want to say.

12 Consider the hairpin turn. It is waiting for you like a red door or the broken leg of a dog. The sun is shining, O how the sun shines down! Your speedometer and your handgrips and the feel of the road below you, how it knows you, the black ribbon spread out on the greens be- tween these lines that suddenly don’t reach to the horizon. It is waiting, like a broken door, like the red dog that chases its tail and eats your rose- bushes and then must be forgiven. Who do you love, Jeff? Who do you love? You were driving toward something and then, well, then you found yourself driving the other way. The dog is asleep. The road is be- hind you. O how the sun shines down.

13 This time everyone has the best intentions. You have cancer. Let’s say you have cancer. Let’s say you’ve swallowed a bad thing and now it’s got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you’re happy anyway, and that’s okay, it’s a love story after all, a lasting love, a wonderful adventure with lots of action, where the mirror says mirror and the hand says hand and the front door never says Sorry Charlie. So the doctor says you need more stitches and the bruise cream isn’t working. So much for the facts. Let’s say you’re still completely in the dark but we love you anyway. We love you. We really do.

14 After work you go to the grocery store to get some milk and a carton of cigarettes. Where did you get those bruises? You don’t remember. Work was boring. You find a jar of bruise cream and a can of stewed tomatoes. Maybe a salad? Spinach, walnuts, blue cheese, apples, and you can’t decide between the Extra Large or Jumbo black olives. Which is bigger anyway? Extra Large has a blue label, Jumbo has a purple label. Both cans cost $1.29. While you’re deciding, the afternoon light is streaming through the windows behind the bank of checkout coun- ters. Take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest, holding onto it and not letting it go. Now let it go.

15 Like sandpaper, the light, or a blessing, or a bruise. Blood everywhere, he said, the red light hemorrhaging from everywhere at once. The train station blue, your lips blue, hands cold and the blue wind. Or a horse, your favorite horse now raised up again out of the mud and galloping galloping always toward you. In your ruined shirt, on the last day, while the bruise won’t heal, and the stain stays put, the red light streaming in from everywhere at once. Your broken ribs, the back of your head, your hand to mouth or hand to now, right now, like you mean it, like it’s split- ting you in two. Now look at the lights, the lights.

16 You and your lover are making out in the corner booth of a seedy bar. The booths are plush and the drinks are cheap and in this dim and smoky light you can barely tell whose hands are whose. Someone raises their glass for a toast. Is that the Hand of Judgment or the Hand of Mercy? The bartender smiles, running a rag across the burnished wood of the bar. The drink in front of you has already been paid for. Drink it, the bartender says. It’s yours, you deserve it. It’s already been paid for. Somebody’s paid for it already. There’s no mistake, he says. It’s your drink, the one you asked for, just the way you like it. How can you refuse Hands of fire, hands of air, hands of water, hands of dirt. Someone’s doing all the talking but no one’s lips move. Consider the hairpin turn.

17 The motorbikes are neck and neck but where’s the checkered flag we all expected, waving in the distance, telling you you’re home again, home? He’s next to you, right next to you in fact, so close, or. . . he isn’t. Imagine a room. Yes, imagine a room: two chairs facing the window but nobody moves. Don’t move. Keep staring straight into my eyes. It feels like you’re not moving, the way when, dancing, the room will suddenly fall away. You’re dancing: you’re neck and neck or cheek to cheek, he’s there or he isn’t, the open road. Imagine a room. Imagine you’re danc- ing. Imagine the room now falling away. Don’t move.

18 Two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart. Two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together. It’s time to choose sides now. The stitches or the devouring mouth? You want an alibi? You don’t get an alibi, you get two brothers. Here are two Jeffs. Pick one. This is how you make the meaning, you take two things and try to define the space between them. Jeff or Jeff? Who do you want to be? You just wanted to play in your own backyard, but you don’t know where your own yard is, exactly. You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet. You are here. You are here. You’re still right here.

19 Here are your names and here is the list and here are the things you left behind: The mark on the floor from pushing your chair back, your un- derwear, one half brick of cheese, the kind I don’t like, wrapped up, and poorly, and abandoned on the second shelf next to the poppyseed dress- ing, which is also yours. Here’s the champagne on the floor, and here are your house keys, and here are the curtains that your cat peed on. And here is your cat, who keeps eating grass and vomiting in the hall- way. Here is the list with all of your names, Jeff. They’re not the same name, Jeff. They’re not the same at all.

20 There are two twins on motorbikes but they are not on motorbikes, they’re in a garden where the flowers are as big as thumbs. Imagine you are in a field of daisies. What are you doing in a field of daisies? Get up! Let’s say you’re not in the field anymore. Let’s say they’re not brothers anymore. That’s right, they’re not brothers, they’re just one guy, and he knows you, and he’s talking to you, but you’re in pain and you can- not understand him. What are you still doing in this field? Get out of the field! You should be in the hotel room! You should, at least, be try- ing to get back into the hotel room. Ah! Now the field is empty.

21 Hold onto your voice. Hold onto your breath. Don’t make a noise, don’t leave the room until I come back from the dead for you. I will come back from the dead for you. This could be a city. This could be a graveyard. This could be the basket of a big balloon. Leave the lights on. Leave a trail of letters like those little knots of bread we used to dream about. We used to dream about them. We used to do a lot of things. Put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, pick up the bread and devour it. I’m in the hallway again, I’m in the hallway. The radio’s playing my favorite song. Leave the lights on. Keep talking. I’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.

22 Someone had a party while you were sleeping but you weren’t really sleeping, you were sick, and parts of you were burning, and you couldn’t move. Perhaps the party was in your honor. You can’t remem- ber. It seems the phone was ringing in the dream you were having but there’s no proof. A dish in the sink that might be yours, some clothes on the floor that might belong to someone else. When was the last time you found yourself looking out of this window. Hey! This is a beautiful window! This is a beautiful view! Those trees lined up like that, and the way the stars are spinning over them like that, spinning in the air like that, like wrenches.

23 Let’s say that God is the space between two men and the Devil is the space between two men. Here: I’ll be all of them-Jeff and Jeff and Jeff and Jeff are standing on the shoulder of the highway, four motorbikes knocked over, two wrenches spinning in the ordinary air. Two of these Jeffs are windows, and two of these Jeffs are doors, and all of these Jeffs are trying to tell you something. Come closer. We’ll whisper it in your ear. It’s like seeing your face in a bowl of soup, cream of potato, and the eyes shining back like spoons. If we wanted to tell you everything, we would leave more footprints in the snow or kiss you harder. One thing. Come closer. Listen . . .

24 You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terr- ible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

- You Are Jeff by Richard Siken

The Princess of Light Chapter 4: Heart of the World

~2290 words. Angst, Romance, Fluff, Fairy Tales. For SoKai Week 2021, Day 4.

Summary: Princess Kairi is cursed to be without love when she is a baby. She grows up cold and without a heart to help her understand other people’s feelings, no matter how hard her parents try to help her. One day, however, she meets a mysterious prince from a faraway world, and he just might hold the key to breaking her curse.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Prince Sora met with Princess Kairi the next night, and the next, and the next. She thought it was because he liked the light pool too, and he’d also said something about his ship needing repairing. Though all of that played a role, she was blind to the real reason he wanted to see her. This continued for over a month with Kairi none the wiser as to his true intentions, for a girl without a heart cannot understand things the rest of us take for granted.

One pleasant evening in early autumn, the moon shone down on the two of them and the light from the pool shone all around them. Sora thought Kairi looked like an angel as she floated on her back, and she caught him staring at her.

“What is it?” she asked, searching his face. She thought he had a rather pleasant face, all things considered. “I keep catching you staring at me.”

“Don’t you know why?” he replied.

She tilted her head. “Could you explain, please?” 

Sora figured her curse would make any direct confession on his end fall flat. It is also entirely too easy to overdo a romantic confession, resulting in one’s beloved running for the hills, so Sora decided a different approach might be best. Though the thought of Princess Kairi taking off running and creating a miles-long trail of ice behind her after hearing an overplayed, overwrought declaration of passion made him chuckle.

“You’re laughing?” she asked, her face one whole puzzle of perplexion.

“Not at you, at my own silly brain,” he reassured her. “Sometimes I get these really vivid images in my mind, and they make me laugh.”

Kairi gently drifted in the light. “Like stories?” she asked. Not much caught her interest, but stories did. Sora had told her many stories about Destiny Islands, and she always listened quietly and asked him questions afterwards.

“You could call them that, yeah,” he replied. “But I’m getting sidetracked. You asked me why I keep staring at you.” He took a deep breath. “Princess, have you ever… had feelings for someone?”

“Feelings?” She frowned and touched the hole in her chest. “Without a heart, I’m not really sure.” 

“Then let me tell you how it feels.” Sora smiled and rested a hand over his heart. “Like you can’t wait to see that person. Your whole day improves when they’re there. Your heart speeds up when they approach. You feel like you can do anything if you have them by your side. And you would do anything to be with them.” He sighed happily and studied Kairi’s face. “Have you ever felt anything like that at all, Princess?”

“No,” Kairi said after a moment. None of those things sounded like the strange fluttering she sometimes got in her stomach. And none of the rest of it was anything she’d ever experienced.

“Oh,” Sora said, his head drooping. He sank deeper into the light pool. “I’m… sorry to hear that.”

She floated downwards to catch up to him till at last they were both at the bottom of the pool. “Why?” she asked. From here little trickles of light bubbled up from between the rocks, for the pool was some distance above the Heart of the World. 

Sora stared at Kairi, at her face surrounded by light, and despaired over her being so in the dark about what he was trying to tell her.

“Love is the most powerful magic there is,” he finally said, at a loss as to how else to explain it, for it impacted the entire way he experienced the world. “It’s like a light in a dark room that illuminates everything else for me.”

She reached for where her heart should be, but instead the usual empty hole greeted her. Sora’s heart went out to her. She was trying so hard to understand what he meant, but she just couldn’t grasp it. The whole thing reminded him of trying in vain to hold sand in his hand and watching it slip through his fingers.

“I’d like to experience it someday for myself,” she said at last, and he thought he detected a hint of wistfulness in her voice.

“I hope you will,” he replied, his voice breaking on the final word. 

She studied him for a few moments, then said, “Can we fall in again?”

He smiled sadly. This at least was familiar territory. He offered his hand, and she took it. 

“Of course, Princess,” he told her. They fell in several times together, and hearing her laughter, seeing her smile… poor Prince Sora became even more smitten with her. He resolved to help her however he could. It was clear her parents had tried everything they could here on Radiant Garden. But maybe his parents on Destiny Islands could offer their assistance. Maybe there would be some clue or hint as to how to help Princess Kairi. The repairs on his ship had been completed, so he could go back and ask.

When it was time to go home, Sora bowed and said goodbye. Kairi tilted her head, as normally he simply told her goodnight. She looked radiant in the moonlight, with the wind playing with her hair and rippling through the grass beneath her feet, and his heart fluttered in his chest.

“Princess, I’m going home to see if I can find something that might help you,” he said. 

“Oh, okay,” she replied, her voice sounding as if he’d told her he was having a sandwich for lunch tomorrow. He tried not to feel a little stung over her lack of sadness at their parting, but it hurt nonetheless. Still, it drove his resolve to find a way to help her.

“I don’t know when I’ll return,” he said, “but I’ll come back to you, I promise.” His hand curled into an upright fist, a gesture on Destiny Islands that meant you were determined to follow through on your promises. 

Kairi hesitated for a moment, then said, “Okay. Goodnight.” He wondered if she’d understood him at all. What if, in his absence, she thought he’d left her for good and forgot all about him? The truth was that she didn’t have much experience with saying goodbye. The people in her sheltered existence were just always there, and she supposed they always would be.

As she and Sora parted ways, they didn’t notice the strange black bird perched in a nearby tree. Despite what the stories say, spooky black birds can hide in the shadows perfectly well, thank you very much. And this one did its job splendidly and returned to its mistress in her creepy castle and reported what it had seen.

“Diablo, thank you,” Maleficent said, petting its head as it perched on her shoulder. “This is very grave news indeed. You say this foreign prince was flirting with my pathetic excuse for a niece? That he’s searching for a way to help her?” Maleficent shuddered. “That’s not good. That’s not good at all. Suppose she starts to regain her heart. We can’t have that, now can we?” 

Cursing Kairi further would be too obvious. No, Maleficent needed to do something more wicked and depraved than what she’d already done. That’s another problem with being evil. You soon acclimate to lesser evils and need greater and greater ones to give you the same twisted rush of delight.

“You say the princess is always playing in that light pool?” Maleficent said. “And now with that prince too? Well, we’ll have to do something about that, now won’t we?”

She cloaked herself in darkness and used it to travel quickly to the Heart of the World, which was in a cavern deep underground. Now, the Heart of the World is not a heart like you or I have; it is physical, but it is in the shape of a heart that children like to draw on scraps of paper, not the shape of an actual physical heart. At the time of our story, it was not as magnificent as it had been in olden days, but it was still big and red and bright. A single stream of golden light flowed out of it, and from there winded and curved through a series of tunnels and caverns up, up, up to the light pool guarded by the royal family. The whole thing was very beautiful, but to someone like Maleficent, who was twisted by the darkness, it was horrifying. 

Reaching into her cloak, she pulled out a tainted dagger. Tainted objects like this one leave no mark on their victims, who die slowly and in great agony. It was how she had killed her own father, the former king, without getting caught. 

With a cruel glint in her eye, she drew the dagger, strode to her next victim, and plunged her weapon into the Heart of the World. The poor Heart shuddered at the wound, for it is very much a living thing. Maleficent smiled wickedly and yanked the dagger out of the Heart, doing even further damage to it, then tucked it back into her cloak. While she could have used a single curse or spell to completely obliterate the Heart, that would not have satisfied her desire for revenge and petty evil in the slightest. 

No, she wanted the Heart to slowly die and the light pool to slowly dry up. Her smile got bigger as she thought about what would happen next, and that smile turned into a cackle and then into a roaring laugh. 

~~~

When Princess Kairi went to the light pool the next evening, she had two surprises. The first was that Prince Sora was not there to greet her like he usually was. She frowned, but the light pool was too enticing to leave alone for long, so she sat next to it and began removing her shoes and socks.

Now, Kairi had been visiting this pool every evening since her thirteenth birthday. She knew it better than anything else in the worlds. So when she was about to step in, she noticed there was slightly less light in it than there should be. She shrieked and raced the short way to the castle barefoot, leaving a trail of frozen grass behind her. 

“Aqua! Mom! Dad!” she cried as soon as she arrived, panting for breath. 

“Kairi?” Aqua called from a window a few floors above. She spotted the trail of frozen grass behind Kairi that was continuing to spread and yelped. “My lady, your feet!” 

Kairi gasped as she realized what she’d done. Aqua was already to the rescue; she grabbed another pair of enchanted shoes and socks for Kairi and tossed them down. Kairi hurriedly put them on, and by the time she was done, Aqua had joined her and sent for Kairi’s parents.

“What’s wrong?” Aqua asked, for she could tell Kairi was very distressed. 

“The light pool is drying up!” Kairi cried, her eyes wild. “It’s drying up! What am I gonna do?” 

Aqua’s heart thudded in her chest, for if Kairi was right about this, then… 

“Are you sure?” she asked, searching Kairi’s face. 

Kairi nodded and fidgeted with a strand of her hair. “There’s less light than there was before. Aqua, what’s gonna happen to me? If it dries up, will I freeze?”

Aqua didn’t know what to say. They needed to investigate the issue further. But if the light pool dried up, then Kairi would very likely freeze to death. Right now it kept her warm and kept the curse in check, but if it was gone… The light enchanting her clothes would stop working too, and—

Before Aqua could say anything else, however, Kairi’s parents and a few guards arrived. After a brief explanation, Aqua went with her father and the guards to investigate the light pool, leaving Kairi with her mother to await the verdict.

This was any mother’s worst nightmare come true: her daughter in imminent danger. Especially because the queen partly blamed herself for the curse. If only she’d taken her husband's concerns about Maleficent seriously instead of insisting he try to reconcile with her, their daughter might not be in this situation. So while she did her best to soothe Kairi and reassure her, she was very scared herself. Especially when Kairi’s breath caught and she clutched her chest.

“Mom, I think the hole’s getting bigger,” she said. All of the queen’s careful composure fled at Kairi’s words, and tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. What if the hole consumed Kairi? What if it devoured her daughter till there was nothing left? 

This was all her fault. If only she’d protected her daughter better.

Kairi frowned and touched the queen’s face. “Water’s leaking out of your eyes again.”

That just made the queen cry harder. Her poor daughter couldn’t even cry for herself and her fate. All she could do was purse her lips and tilt her head to the side as the queen shed the tears her daughter could not. 

When Aqua, the king, and the guards returned, they confirmed that the light pool did appear to have a little less light in it. The next day, the difference was definitely noticeable. By the third day, the light pool had lost a good foot of depth, and Kairi felt ill. The hole in her chest kept getting bigger, and the enchantments for her clothes had weakened, leaving her colder than usual. 

If the light pool drained completely, everyone feared the worst. While the royal family initially tried to keep what was happening under wraps, word soon spread, and the king and queen knew they would have to take action.

It was time to consult outside help.

A.N : One of my ideas pile that i managed to write down at 1 AM. My brain is rotting at this hour so I'm sorry if this does not make sense. Ah, and I never experienced acid-reflux before so I just go with things I know and my .. imagination. If any of you ever experienced it and wants to .. maybe share ur story, feel free to let me know :) This helps me expand my ideas other than morning sickness, motion sickness, and stomach bug shdhshdjsn. Okay i'm rambling, i hope you like this story and i'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes !!

P.S : i didn't expect this to turn out to be this long....... sorry T.T

TW : emeto, graphic descriptions of vomiting

-------

Seokjin huffed for an nth times before pushed away his plates that still mostly full with his bulgogi. Namjoon looks over him. He knows that something is up with his boyfriend, the older has whined that he felt a little off today. It seems like it just got worse as the day goes by. They are currently in the Bangtan room, enjoying their lunch before going to their run-through meeting for the next album.

"Hey, what's wrong?", Namjoon asks as his hand reached the older's arms, giving a light rubs to it. Seokjin loves meat more than anything else, even more than Namjoon, maybe. So there's no way he would let meat goes to waste if its not because something is off with his body.

"'M okay, just feel bad. Stomach hurts. I think it's acid-reflux again", Jin mumbled, leaning his head against the table and buried it into his arms. Now he wants to catch a quick sleep, maybe when he wakes up he will feel a little bit better. His one hands going through under his sweater he wears today, placing it there in hope that warmth from his hand might lessen the nausea that come and goes like a wave.

"Have you take medicine? I think we have antacid somewhere here"

Seokjin sits up, the sudden move jostled his stomach a bit, sending a little splash of acid in the back of his throat. Seokjin winced, "No I haven't taken anything. I didn't know that we have antacid here .. It might help though. Where is it?". Seokjin just got up from his seat before Namjoon held his hand back, " No let me get it for you"

Seokjin settled back, grateful for his caring and perfect boyfriend, "Thankyou"

A few minutes later, Namjoon comes back with an antacid, a glass of water, and a hot pack. He sets it in front of Seokjin, that brings his head up again and shoots up a questioned look at his boyfriend, "Um ... Namjoon sweetie, why ... the antacid comes with a lot of things?"

Namjoon chuckles, "Put the hot pack to your stomach baby, it might help to lessen whatever your stomach is going through right now. Well the antacid as your request and water so you can stay hydrated". Seokjin mouthed an " O" before do as Namjoon told. He dived back into his arms, "Please wake me up when its the time for meeting"

Namjoon ruffles his hair and mustered an okay before he goes back to his lunch. Seokjin did fall into sleep until he felt someone shakes his arms, "Hey, Jinnie, wake up. Meeting now. Do you want to come or just stay here?"

Namjoon voices entered his ears. He sits up slowly. The sleep didn't help at all, it's just making him feel more like shit than he already is.

"I will come", Seokjin says as he gets up from his seat. He snatched the water and take a few gulps before walks to his boyfriend at the door.

"Are you sure? Have you felt better? I could tell the manager if you're sick though, so you can rest here", Namjoon goes full concerned now, seeing how his boyfriend just goes paler and the older hands still not moving from his stomach.

"Its just a few hours, not even 3 hours long. I could manage. Let's go"

Well, Namjoon couldn't go against that. He just makes a mental note to keep a strict eye on his boyfriend.

One hour into a meeting, everything is fine —for everyone else but Namjoon. He's on the edge looking at how stubborn is Seokjin. He didn't want more anything than drag his boyfriend out of this room and tucked him in bed. Namjoon really keeps an eye on Seokjin, not even on the meeting. He didn't know what's going on in the meeting —he could ask Yoongi later.

Namjoon already lost count of how many times Seokjin has been stifled a quiet burp into his fist, how many times he coughed and winced after, how Seokjin hands never leave his stomach because he's too busy rubbing it to lessen nausea, and how many times Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut every time he felt an acid on his mouth. The older condition just got worse and worse every second and Namjoon is way more than worried. Sitting right across the table from your boyfriend, which caused you can't reach his hand, is a bad idea.

Namjoon diverts his attention to his notepad, he will go crazy if he looks over Seokjin again —not because he does not care but he's sure he will leave this meeting that second if he sees Seokjin's pained expression one more. It works, for 10 minutes, before he heard Seokjin's "Excuse me".

He shots his head up as he catches Seokjin pushed his chair and hurriedly walkout from the meeting room. He also catches how the older clamps his hands over his mouth. Namjoon immediately excuses himself too and goes after Seokjin. He sets his feet to go to the nearest bathroom stall. He could see only one of the doors locked and he's sure that his boyfriend in there.

He knocks once, "Hyung ... You in there?"

A hum that followed by pained hiss is Namjoon's answer.

"Are you okay there Hyung? Can I go in?", Namjoon pleaded again. He can't just stay outside the door while his boyfriend suffering in there. He was worried that Seokjin might not let him in since this happened before and the older really locked him out the bathroom door. Lucky him, he sees the lock stumbled, and then the door opened a little. He catches off guard when Seokjin immediately took his hand and interlaced it with one of his free hands —that not currently clenching his stomach.

"Fuck, Joon .. this hurts so much", Seokjin whined with his eyes squeezed shut. Namjoon could feel his hand got squeezed—it hurts a bit— but Namjoon just tightens the hold, it's his way to send some strength to his boyfriend. Namjoon's heart breaks at the sight. " I'm sorry baby, do you want to go to the doctor after this?"

Seokjin managed to let out a "No" before his stomach clenched, sending his body lurched forward and a stream of yellow watery vomit splash into the water below. Seokjin winced at the acid aftertaste in his mouth. He hasn't managed to get rid of the acid taste before another liquid already rushing out. It seems like his stomach eager to let out the bile and all the water he drank earlier. As his stomach revolts, he unconsciously tightens his hand with Namjoon, and Namjoon just silently rubs his back.

Seokjin coughed and spits the saliva a few times. He coughed again and groans, "Ugh .. it burns", before flushed the toilet. It hasn't fully flushed yet as another gag making his mouth open wider, followed by a beige thick vomit spills from his mouth. Now Seokjin could see his half-digested few spoons of bulgogi rice he took earlier, his sandwich for breakfast, and his coffee in the murky water below. The sight just making his stomach twists again and sending more vomit up to his mouth. He could feel Namjoon now holding his waist, it seems like he puts too much energy into vomiting that he is swaying on his feet right now.

"Hyung .. "

If it's not because Seokjin is too busy letting out his food, he would be giggling right now hearing Namjoon's scared voices. He forgot that Namjoon never deals with his acid-reflux episode like this. He only got this like 2 times in 6 months or more, or when he's way too busy, and he rarely got it when he's on his schedule just like right now. He feels sorry for Namjoon, actually.

Seokjin coughed few times to dislodge vomit that stuck in his throat. His body let out few dry heaves before it ended. Seokjin finally can catch a breath. He flushed the toilet, wipes his runny nose and teary eyes —side effects from all the energy he let out during his vomiting episode— and turned his body to Namjoon. He chuckles when he meets with Namjoon worried expressions.

"Hey, I'm fine now. I'm feeling better after that, remove that frown from your face", Seokjin says as he pushed Namjoon aside, so he could walk to the sink and rinse his mouth. Acid still lingering on his tongue, making everything bitter in his mouth. Namjoon following behind, " Are you sure? You really don't want to go to the doctor?", his voices still full of concern. How can he not when he sees how bad Seokjin's vomiting was? Namjoon is surprised the older hasn't passed out yet looking at the amount of things he let out and how tense he was.

Seokjin spits out the water he just gargled before facing Namjoon, "I am, Joon-ah. I'm really fine right now, maybe i will take antacid again since i just throw up the one I took earlier, but after that, I will be healthy again. This is not new for me, you know that", he says as he caressed Namjoon's cheeks. He hates making Namjoon worried like this.

"Are you sure? That was ... ", Namjoon trailed, unsure of what words he needs to choose. He catches Seokjin's hand and engulfed it with his, "That was bad, Hyung. I was afraid you might pass out earlier"

Seokjin smiles fondly, his heart swells at the thought how much Namjoon cared for him.

"I'm sorry you need to witness that. But that's normal for me. I know that was bad, but again, that's how usually it is. Just you being in there with me, it helps a lot and lessens the pain, thank you", he planted a soft kiss on Namjoon's cheeks. The younger smiles at that.

"Do you want to go home now, hyung? You must still feel bad", Namjoon asks. Seokjin contemplates, actually, Namjoon is not wrong. He might feel a bit lighter after vomiting, but he still feel weak. There's nothing more tempting than the image of his bed right now. " Can we?"

"Of course, i will talk to the manager. We didnt have anything after the meeting though"

"Oh right .. the meeting. I kinda feel bad leaving in the middle of it", Seokjin says as he and Namjoon walk down the hall.

"Um hyung, in case you forget, I am the leader ... and here i am also ditching the meeting. If there's one that should feel bad about that, i think that's me", Namjoon scratches the back of his head. Seokjin laughs at the remarks.

"Well, how about you go back in there until the meeting is finished, while i wait for you in Bangtan room? I don't think I can bear sitting through meeting again, I still feel bad, is that okay? You can pick me after you done and then we go home"

Namjoon smile at the idea, he ruffles the older hair before walks back to the meeting room, "Okay hyung, wait for me"

Seokjin nods slightly before set his feet to the Bangtan room, can't wait to lay down on the couch until it's time for Namjoon to wake him up.

Charlie

Chapter 11 - Together - Adam & Ellie.

A/N: This chapter is from both M!MC & F!MC POV. I cried at this chapter, you would think for someone who’s given birth 4 times I shouldn’t have to Google what labour is like but my only “normal” labour was over 10 years ago now and the other 3 have been very very fast labours. It is a fast forward chapter sorry but I like doing this series like this but this is also why I haven’t added a DOB because of the fast forward timeline haha. I hope you like it! 😘

If you like it let me know or if you don’t still tell me why I won’t be offended!

I am only tagging those who have asked to be tagged in this series from now on as I don’t want to annoying people with tags. So Let me know if you would like to be tagged and if I missed anyone sorry just let  me know! 

Find previous chapters HERE under Together - Adam & Ellie.

Word count: 1803

WARNINGS: ⚠️ Fluffy fluff, Mild NSFW & adult language.

Pairings: Adam x Ellie.

Enjoy!

M!MC POV

15 Weeks later.

"You can do this Ellie"

Tears are streaming down her face "I can't! It hurts..AHHHHHH!"

"Ellie, look at me, you can do this just breathe. You got this beautiful"

She takes deep breaths on the gas and air, "Now Ellie, I just need to check if we are there yet so after this contraction I'll see how we are doing" April the midwife tells her.

(Her water broke at half 7 this morning just as I got up for work. The contractions started lunch time. It's 2 days until Charlie's due date. I wish I could take the pain away)

I move out the way for April "Has that one gone?" she nods.

"Right, let's have a look" the midwife checks Ellie over "Well, good news you've hit 10 centimeters"

"Another one is com.....Ahhhh!"

I take her hand "Right, now Ellie. I need you to put all your energy into pushing. With your next contraction can you give me a small gentle push. Put your chin to your chest as you push"

She pants while she waits for the next contraction, it isn't long before it's here. Instead of screaming Ellie puts all her effort into pushing "Ellie, that is brilliant! Remember to breathe, small, gentle pushes"

Her grip on my hand tightens, she gasps "That one has gone. How much longer until he's here"

"I think with a few more pushes we'll have the head"

I kiss her knuckles "You're doing amazing beautiful"

"What? Even though I'm nearly breaking your hand?" she smiles.

"Break it! Squeeze as hard as you can if that's what you need"

"Here com..."

"That's it! That's it Ellie, small pushes. I can see the head"April tells her.

A few more pushes later "That's the head out Ellie" She started panting "Next contraction and he'll be here!"

"Oh god here it..." she starts pushing again.

"Here he is" April looks up at the clock "8:05 PM"

"Ellie, You did it, he's here!!" I well up.

"Would you like skin to skin contact?" Ellie nods tears streaming down her face as April places him against her chest under her hospital grown.

"Adam, he's here. He's really here!"

I kiss her forehead "He is!! I'm so proud of you beautiful"

"Would Daddy like to cut the cord?"

"Yeah, I'll give it ago" lifting the grown she turns Charlie (He's so tiny! He's sucking his fingers. He's gorgeous)

"Right, just cut here" the scissors cut through the cord.

Ellie's smiling at me, my heart has never felt so full.

A little while later, after Ellie delivers the afterbirth, vitamin K, stitches, April places Charlie on the weighing scales "Lets see how much you weigh you little beaut.....7lbs 7oz. Now let's give you daddy, so he can dress you, then is mummy breast feeding?"

"I think I'm going to do a bit of both?"

"Great while daddy is getting him dressed why don't you grab a shower or bath and I'll grab you a hot drink and some toast"

Later we are taken up to the neonatal unit where, I get up onto the bed with her, I pull her to me, kiss the top of her head "Ellie, Thank you" I whisper.

She looks up at me, she looks absolutely shattered "Thank you? For what?" she whispers back.

"For giving me a baby. Making me a dad"

She lets out small laugh "I think you'll find you gave me him first. So, thank you!"

I laugh, "True, but you grew him and did the hardest part"

"And I couldn't have done it without you! Adam, we're parents!!"

We both drift off.

1:38 AM

I hear Charlie stirring I pick him up out of the cot bed, I look over to Ellie who is still asleep.

"Hey little man, we need to be quiet. Mummy needs her rest" not wanting to wake her, I give Charlie a bottle, burp him and change his nappy.

Luckily April helped me do it downstairs "Right, we need to remember, we wipe what we see. That's what she told us, isn't it?" after I've changed him, place him on my chest he soon asleep again, I place him in his cot again.

~*~*~*~

4:23 AM

"Such a good boy! Well done!" I hear Ellie whisper. I wake to see her breastfeeding Charlie, she spots me "Hey, go back to sleep. We have this don't we!"

"I didn't hear him stir"

She smiles "I got up to use the toilet when I came back, he was just starting to wake. His nappy isn't full. It's weird!"

I laugh, sit up to kiss her cheek "Weird!" I pull out my phone.

*9 New Messages*

The first one is from Mum.

11:47 PM

[Oh, Adam he's beautiful. My first grandchild 😍 Congratulations to you both and well done to that superstar daughter inlaw. We are at the airport our flight leaves in 20 minutes. We'll see you when you all get home. Well done Adam! We are proud of you both. We love you x]

The next is from Mel.

11:48 PM

[Congratulations!! He is absolutely gorgeous! I can't wait for cuddles with my new grandson 🥰 Well done both of you. Saving that photo as my screen saver. I can't believe I'm a nanna. Thank you so much for sending that. Tell Ellie I've been shopping for you guys all packed and put away. See you guys soon 😊]

Tom.

11:49 PM

[Well done El's and well done Adam....do you have an x-ray booked to make sure she hasn't broken any bones in your hand! Haha. Seriously I'm so happy for you two! Congratulations. My nephew is going to be a little heart breaker that's for sure. Can't wait to meet him]

Nan.

11:50 PM

[How much does he look like you as a baby Adam. He's beautiful. Congratulations mummy and daddy and well done mummy! I saw Mel at yours earlier so I popped in a lasagna in the fridge for you both. You just need to heat it in the oven. I've also done a few batch meals and stuck them in the freezer, there is chilli which Mel got a couple of packets of that ping rice for. There is also bolognese in there you will have to cook the spaghetti and there's a few other bits all labelled for you. So no need cook for a while. Xxx]

There is a few more from other friends.

F!MC POV

"Are you ready beautiful?"

I look up at him "This is it! We get to go home"

"As a family of 3" he places a soft kiss on my lips.

I go to pick up my bag "Don't even think about it Ellie," I hear Adam over my shoulder, I roll my eyes.

"OK, hulk but you can't carry Charlie in his car seat and this bag"

He takes it off me "I can! Now let's get you two home"

We walk down to the car Adam clips Charlie's seat onto the Isofix, I get into the passengers seat.

20 Minutes later we pull up to the house once inside Adam ushers me upstairs to have a bath. I hear Charlie and my breast start to leak "Adam! I'll be down in a second" I quickly brush my hair and head down.

In the living room Adam is on the sofa with Charlie, he passes him over, but Charlie doesn't want to latch on. "Here I got one of the formula ready made bottles out for him" Adam hands me a bottle.

I look at the coffee table and spot them, there are flowers and chocolates on the table. "Who's that from?"

I look at him confused "have a look," he smirks.

He picks up the card out of the flowers. The front of the card reads BEAUTIFUL!

"They are from you!" I melt.

"I got Lisa to make them up for me and Nan to bring them round early this morning"

"They are beautiful! Thank you"

He leans in, his lips brush against mine "No! Thank you!" Adam kisses the top of Charlies head "I love his smell"

"New baby smell"

"I had a text from Mum and your mum they wanted to come round today, but I've told them maybe it best to leave it until tomorrow"

"Give us a chance to settle in first" I smile.

"Yeah, that and I wanted my little family to myself a little while longer" he grins.

~*~*~*~

The next day

Mum, Tom, Nina, Al and Elaine are over for lunch.

Elaine made a platter of sandwiches and snacky bits, "He has your nose Ellie" Nina is cuddling Charlie.

"I hope his eyes change to Adams" Adam squeezes my hand.

"They can change up to a year old" mum says.

"How did he sleep last night?" Tom asks.

"He only woke once!"

I hear a low chuckle coming from Adam, I turn, and he's smiling "Twice actually"

"He did? Why didn't you wake me?"

He smiles, "You looked so peace sleeping. Plus that's what I'm here for"

"Adam & Ellie, your dad and I got something for Charlie. Al go and grab it" Al gets up and walks to the hallway before bringing in a big box.

"I know you have a cot and a moses basket but Sophie's daughter had one for her little boy and swears by it"

"What is it?" Adam asks.

"Next to you crib"

"Oh, wow thank you both" I smile.

~*~*~*~

4 Weeks later I've finished Charlies night feed and put him back down.

I slip back into bed Adams arms come around me, pulling me tight against him "Did someone have a naughty dream?" I whisper as I feel his hard member against the curves of my arse.

"Maybe...its torture not doing anything about it"

I laugh "Just because we can't do that doesn't mean I can't do anything!"

I feel his body tease up "What?" he whispers against my neck.

I turn to face him "There are other ways I can help you scratch a certain itch" I start kissing his neck and push him onto his back.

I trail down his chest until I reach his inner thigh "Ellie, you don't have to"

I smile against him "I want to," I pull down his boxer springing him free, he gasps as I wet the tip.

"Fuck!"

"Shhh! You'll wake Charlie!"

~*~*~*~

The next morning "Ellie, your mum is here!" Adam calls up from downstairs.

"OK, I'll be down in a bit" I make my way downstairs, Adam is at the bottom.

"She in the living room cuddling up to Charlie. Are you excited?"

"Aww, bless her! Super excited!" I smile.

"I find it funny you own a bridal shop but you're going to another to get your wedding dress!"

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 12.

@lem-20​ @aussieez​ @khoicesbyk​ @shewillreadyou​ @txemrn​ @irisofpurple​

Gender Reveal

*** GIF CREDIT TO @angels-reyes ***

@rebel-without-cause-x requested -  Can I get Chibs request please - reader is heavily pregnant and throughout the whole pregnancy Chibs has not felt his child move or kick and he finally feels the baby kick in the middle of the club house just something cute and fully please and maybe throw in a bit of fluff for Jax and old lady when they ask them to be god parents.

Taglist - @agirllovespasta @everyhowlmarksthedead @naytraydr @rebel-without-cause-x

Word Count - 1458.

Authors Comment - This is just pure fluff and kinda made me a bit broody lmao.

You were awoken by a fierce kick to the belly. The sun was streaming in through the blinds, and you had no idea what time it was. You didn’t go to bed until late as your husband had just gotten back from a 2 week run, and he wanted to know everything about your last 2 weeks, and how the baby was, and if there was any more movement. He has yet to feel the baby kick, as he was doing more and more runs to earn some money for the baby coming. You were nearly 6 months along. 

You knew it broke Chibs’ heart every time you told him that he missed yet another baby kick or punch. But yet he insisted that you tell him. He didn’t know that tonight, you had planned a gender reveal party at the club house. With the help from the rest of the Sons, especially Jax, who was just as invested in this pregnancy as you and your husband.  When Chibs wasn’t there, Jax was. He has been a blessing to you, and you and Chibs owe him a lot. You had everything you needed, and you couldn’t wait to see the look on your old man’s face when he arrived at the party.

The slight pain in your tummy when the baby kicked was worth it because you had a mini you growing in your stomach. You turned around to wake your husband up so he could feel the kicks but he wasn’t there. There was a note on his pillow. “Darling, I needed to nip out to the club house for a last minute meeting, I’ll be back as soon as I can – Chibs x”.

With a sigh you pushed yourself out of bed with some struggle. You were only 5 and a bit months along, but boy this pregnancy was hard. You looked like you were about to pop at any second, and everyone who saw you told you it would be twins. You knew it was just 1 child, and the doctors said it would be a very big baby.

When you revealed to Chibs he was going to be a dad, he was ecstatic. You took him some lunch over to the clubhouse in a box. Underneath his haggis sandwiches, you had put another little box. Inside the box was a mini kutte, with the words “baby” on the back. You had also bought Chibs a patch that said “daddy” for him to wear on his kutte too. His reaction was full of pure love and adoration that you melted on the spot. You went on to celebrate the pregnancy with him, and the rest of the Sons family.

You got dressed and looked at the time. 11am. The party was at 6pm. You told Chibs you were both going to the club house tonight for a dinner with everyone, and Jax was going to get Chibs out your house at 3pm so you could go to the club house and make sure everything was ready for 6. You had the help of Lyla, Gemma, and Hannah, Jax’s old lady who has been around for a few years now. When you first met her, you instantly clicked and have been pretty inseparable since.

Chibs came home at 1pm. You had some lunch that he brought back for you, but not before he kissed and rubbed your belly for a few minutes first, talking to your  not so little peanut. Your pregnancy cravings were hard to keep up with, but he managed it. Your weird combination of food recently was a hummus and coleslaw sandwich, which Chibs couldn’t stand, but he loved you unconditionally which meant he put up with the disgusting choice of sandwich. You watched some TV and you dosed off together.

An annoying buzz woke you up from your nap. Chibs was lying on your lap, with his mouth hanging open snoring away. You knew the extra runs had taken it out of him, but he was reluctant to show it. Carefully you nudged him awake and asked him to get the door. It was Jax. “Brother, I need a bit of help, can I borrow you for a couple of hours?”

Chibs turned around to look at you. You nodded at him and gave him a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back soon lass” and gave you and your belly a final kiss before leaving. You waited until you heard their bikes take off before getting into your car and driving the short drive to Teller Morrow.

Everyone was already there and waiting for your instructions. You had asked Hannah to keep all the balloons, cakes and other resources at her and Jax’s house so Chibs wouldn’t see. You all started putting the food on the tables, setting up the bar with alcohol and of course blackcurrant juice for you. You ordered white balloons, to stay gender neutral, but inside was either pink or blue confetti. You knew the sex of the baby, but of course you hadn’t told your husband. It was so hard keeping it a secret, and you felt horrible for lying to him when he asked if you could both find out, but you always told him you wanted it to be a surprise.

You ordered food from all the local food shops, there was a mix of Indian, Chinese, Italian and Thai. There was something for everyone attending.  Your phone gave off a loud PING. It was a text from Jax saying he and Chibs were 5 minutes away. “Everyone, get to your places, they’re nearly here!”.

The club house doors opened 5 minutes later and you jumped out from behind the bar shouting “SURPRISE!!”. Chibs’ face was priceless, and you could tell you had truly surprised him. You wandered over to him to give him a kiss. “I know how hard you’ve been pushing yourself these last couple of months, to earn more money for us and the baby, and I wanted to throw you a surprise party, well actually it’s a gender reveal party”.

Chibs’ face lit up even more if that was possible. “A cannot wait to find out what gender this baby is gonne be love”.

You both headed over towards the balloons, and you handed Chibs the nerf gun you especially bought for him to shoot the balloon with. All the Sons family gathered round you both and gave you a countdown. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” Chibs shot the balloon and blue confetti fluttered all around the clubhouse. Your husband turned to you and scooped you up into his arms planting a big kiss on your cheek. “It’s a lad, It’s a bloody lad Y/N”.

He put you down and bent down to talk to your tummy. Just as he put his hand on it, your son kicked. Chibs looked up at you with tears in his big brown eyes. He turned around to his brothers and shouted “Ma son just kicked ma hand!”.

The rest of the party went smoothly, you were happy with your blackcurrant juice, and Chibs decided to drink it too and not have any of his beloved whisky. “A want to have a fresh and clear mind when a get ye hame later Darlin” was his excuse.

You and Chibs had spoken about who you want to be god parents to your baby. He of course wanted Jax to be god father. The bond him and Jax have could never be broken, and sometimes you thought Chibs loved that man more than you. But you also loved Jax, and he was always there for you when Chibs couldn’t be for any reason. And you wanted Hannah to be god mother. You had only known her a couple of years, but she really was your best friend, and her and Jax were perfect for each other, and perfect to be godparents.

“Should we go and ask Jax and Hannah to be the godparents then?” you whispered to Chibs who was talking to Tig and Opie.

“Aye love”. Chibs walked over to the bar and jumped up onto it. He then offered you his hand and pulled you up, and held you tightly against him. “Attention lads and lassies, we have an announcement ti make” he shouted.

“Jackie boy, Hannah, we wid be honoured if you would be the godparents to baby Telford”. You looked over at Jax who was crying, and Hannah was hugging him crying too.

“Of course we will brother”. Jax and Chibs engulfed each other in a man hug, and you and Hannah had a hug too.

“Right enough bloody tears for one day, let’s get on wi the party!” your husband addressed everyone.

The Days We Defend (Will Turn To Gold)- Chapter 3

Everything is perfect, until it isn’t. Killian and Emma have spent months building a life together after finally defeating Neal and Gold, but when the Dark One dies and his power becomes untethered, everyone in Storybrooke is at risk, and some decisions may have lasting consequences.

Sequel to Walk With Me (I Think We’ll Find A Way)

Prologue, 1, 2

Read on Ao3

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook​

Belle is overwhelmed with responsibilities, both as newfound official owner of the shop, and with settling the Crocodile’s assets. They weren’t even bound together by law, but for whatever reason, she felt compelled to take care of these things.

“I suppose we should bury him,” she says over her coffee mug as she pours over pages of financial documents at Killian and Emma’s dining table.

Killian shrugs. “I suppose that’s a good way to prevent any foul odors,” he agrees, and she gives him a look that tells him he may have said the wrong thing. “And… of course, it’s the respectful thing to do.”

“Of course,” she says through a laugh and rolls her eyes. “I mean, I probably should've taken care of this already. It’s been a week since he passed, I just… it’s been strange.”

“I understand, love. You weren’t together but you still had feelings towards him. And as big a bastard as he was, he did love you.”

She presses her mouth together thoughtfully, nodding as she looks back down at her pages and takes another sip from her mug and he finishes up the dishes from their lunch. It’s perhaps the first time that he’s realized what this means: his enemy is dead. His life’s mission is complete.

He has a feeling that, were this to happen three years ago, he would have felt lost. He’s lived an unnaturally long life with one goal in mind, and with that goal met, he’s unsure what else he may have had to live for. Now, he has everything he needs.

It isn’t long before he hears the bounding steps of his toddler stomping down the stairs, one step at a time, and a nervous Emma behind her reminding her to be cautious.

During the last week, he’s noticed a new trend: Emma is constantly anxious about Corrine’s safety. She’s far more nervous about her being hurt while exploring her environment and learning new skills, and is always helicoptering over the child, hardly taking an eye off of her. It isn’t that he suspects that she distrusts him, but he’s certainly noticed that she almost never leaves their daughter alone, not even with her father.

“Hello my little love,” Killian says as she reaches the landing.

“Hi Captain,” she says, her tiny voice pronouncing her new word without a T.

“Who the blazes is teaching you these terms, my dear?” he asks, picking her up once his hand is dry and placing a kiss on her forehead.

“No know,” she responds with a shrug, although he doubts that to be true. One can only trust a two-year-old as far as one can throw them, especially when that child’s father is Captain Hook, and he’s nearly completely certain that she does know that Prince Charming is trying to mess with him.

“You’re far too smart for your own good, sweetheart.”

“Thank.”

Emma smiles softly as she rounds the corner, placing a hand on their daughter’s back and glancing up at Killian before moving towards the refrigerator.

“What would you like for lunch, smarty pants?” Emma asks Corrine, and she shrugs.

“Cheese,” she tells her mother, smiling a toothy grin at Killian and then poking his nose with her chubby finger.

“A grilled cheese? For Emma Swan’s daughter? Preposterous.”

Emma laughs, barely, and bumps his shoulder with her own, moving throughout the kitchen to get started on cooking as Killian continues to entertain the lass.

“Corrine, did you say hello to Belle?” Killian asks, and she turns in his arms and smiles sweetly.

“Hi.”

“Hello there,” Belle says with a smile, standing and gathering her files. “I actually think I should be going. I’ve got to make the arrangements for the burial.”

“Aye, lass.”

“Would you guys, um, are you planning on coming?”

Emma drops something behind him with a clatter, then lets out a hissed curse. When he turns, he sees her shoving a frying pan to the back of the stove and forcing the burner into the off position, holding her hand in front of her.

“Uh,” he says, placing Corrine down and moving towards Emma. “I’ll let you know,” he tells Belle as she makes her way out the door to leave.

“Momma’s okay?” Corrine asks, toddling over towards her.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles back, looking down and plastering on a fake smile. “Baby, go play in the living room while I make your lunch, okay?”

Corrine runs clumsily towards her small chest, opening it up and exclaiming excitedly when she sees some of her favorite stuffed toys. “Emma,” Killian finally says, moving in front of her and taking her burned hand.

“I’m fine,” she spits out, yanking her hand back and reaching for the pan again, replacing it on the burner and moving towards the refrigerator.

“You’re clearly not.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Did you forget the conversation we had last week? I told you I’m here for you, love. You don’t have to bear—”

“Hook, I’m fine! Just leave it, would you?”

She hadn’t called him that since the curse was broken, but lately it’s been slipping from her lips far more frequently than he prefers. “Don't do that, Swan. Don’t put your walls back up; don’t shut me out.”

“I”m not.”

“You are. You’re scared about what’s going to happen with Regina and you’re trying to protect yourself, but in doing so, you’re closing yourself off from me.” She refuses to look him in the eye as she lets a pat of butter slide into the pan and tilts it so that it melts across the surface. “You’re doing it now.”

“What do you want me to say?” she mumbles as she places a slice of bread in the pan.

He takes her hand once she places a slice of cheese over the bread and covers it with another, pulling her away and forcing her to turn and face him. “You don't have to say anything. Just… I just want you to trust me like I trust you.”

She sighs, wriggling out of his hold and grabbing for a tool that she uses to flip the sandwich over. “Of course I trust you,” she says softly as he hands her Corrine’s plastic plate. She slides the hot sandwich onto it, slices it down the middle, and hands it back to him, turning away once again and taking the pan towards the sink.

He stands there expectantly, foolishly, for a moment before turning and walking towards the table, calling for Corrine as he places the plate in front of her chair. “Come, love,” he calls, and he hears her tumbling towards him. He hoists her into her chair and kisses the top of her head as she starts munching away.

Emma holds her burnt hand out of the running stream of water as she washes the pan vigorously. She isn’t one for cleaning, well, anything, so to see her so passionately doing so is throwing him for a loop.

Rather than trying to talk any more sense into her, he walks up behind her, resting his prosthetic on her hip and taking the pan from her hand to place it down in the sink so that he can hold her. He feels tension leaving her quickly as she settles her back against his chest before turning around and wrapping her arms around his middle, sighing.

He holds her tight, attempting to squeeze the anxiety and fear out of her but knowing it likely isn’t going to work like that. Instead he settles for telling her, “I’m here, love, always. We’ll get through this, I swear it.”

He hopes beyond hope that he’s being truthful to her.

~~~~

Later that night, when Corrine is safely tucked into her crib only after David helped Emma to lower the platform in an attempt to prevent her from escaping, Emma and Killian sit quietly on the loveseat as Henry takes up the entire couch. They had a film on, and although Killian finds them difficult to follow, he guesses that Henry is having a far worse time focusing  based on the way he stares off at the ceiling for almost the entire picture. Eventually, he sits back up, his spine so straight that it looks uncomfortable, and announces, “I don’t wanna see my mom.”

Emma straightens too. “I know that, Henry. I told you I’m not gonna make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“I know she’s been asking for me.”

Emma squeezes Killian’s hand but won’t turn his way. He sighs and steps in. “Aye, lad, she has. But your mother has been very clear that that won't happen.”

“Hook’s right,” she says. “We aren't letting anything happen to you. You're old enough to make your own decisions about this stuff.”

The lad sighs, relaxing back into the couch a bit before speaking up again. “I feel bad, though. If she’s saying she wants to see me, maybe that would help her to fight the darkness.”

“Well, maybe that’s true, but it’s okay for you to set your own limits. Isn’t that what Dr. Hopper used to say?”

“Yeah. It’s just… why would she do this?” he asks softly, staring down at his hands resting on his knees. “Why would she let herself go back to being dark, after everything that happened when I was a kid?”

“The darkness came to her, Henry. She didn’t really have that much control over it,” Emma says, trailing off weakly at the end of her statement. He knows she’s blaming herself now for the position that Regina is in, and for Henry’s emotional turmoil.

“She’s gonna do something stupid. And dangerous.”

“Henry…”

“Mom, she did some really terrible stuff when she was the Evil Queen, and now she’s gone dark again. How can I trust that she won't try to hurt you like she did last time? Or me or Corrine?”

He feels her tense some more. “Kid, you shouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“But I do! It’s all I can think about!”

“We’re gonna take care of this! I told you that you don’t have to see her and I meant it. Nothing is gonna happen to you,” she tells him urgently, standing from the couch so quickly that Killian starts to tip over.

“But what about you? And everyone else I care about?”

“I’m gonna fix this,” she promises, her voice cracking. She moves towards Henry and pulls him into a tight hug which he returns in kind, the two of them standing still in the middle of the living room and seemingly blocking out the rest of the world.

Killian feels so helpless.

~~~~

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Swan,” he starts, moving towards the bed that she sits on heavily.

“If you tell me everything's gonna be okay, I think I’ll scream.”

He stops in his tracks, sighing as she flops backwards until her back hits the mattress and groans.

“Emma.”

“Hook, I can’t have this fight with you again!” she nearly shouts, thrusting her fingers into her hair.

“Who said we were fighting?”

She rolls over onto her stomach and presses herself up so that she’s sitting on her knees, staring him down with angry eyes. “You're going to tell me that this isn’t my fault and that we’ll get through this,” she says, irritation clear in her voice.

He steps towards the bed, standing closer to her and narrowing his eyes. “Suppose I am. Suppose I mean it.”

“It doesn’t help!” she says. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t just sit around doing nothing while we wait for something to go wrong.”

“Swan, you're not doing nothing.”

“Why do you keep saying that?!”

“Why are you so upset with me?”

“I’m not!”

“Clearly you—” he’s interrupted. Her hands are around his neck and her mouth is on his with a forceful pressure that nearly knocks him off his feet. “Swan,” he tries, but she continues her attack on his lips.

“Stop talking,” she mumbles against him. “I don't want to hear anymore.”

“What do you want?”

She slows her movements of her lips along his only slightly, as if she’s considering his question, and in her pause, he leans them forward so that she falls back onto the mattress with him on top of them. She grunts, biting his lip fiercely in an angry response, and before he can steady himself on top of her, she’s pushing his shoulders and flipping them.

“You,” she growls at him before kissing him again. “I want to fuck you.”

Her words shoot through him as quickly as his blood does, coursing through his body in an icy heat. His hand finds her hip immediately, squeezing before he slaps her ass covered by her tight leggings. “You want it rough, love?”

“Yes,” she answers immediately.

“Well,” he murmurs as her mouth trails down his stubble covered chin and finds the juncture of his neck, sucking what he knows will become a bruise. “I’m happy to oblige.”

He knows what this is. He knows she’s seeking out control where she can and while she has so little of it. He normally takes the reins and revels in his ability to make her fall apart, so tonight, he’ll sit back and enjoy as she flips the script.

She’s quick in her work of undoing the buttons of his top, ripping it open forcefully and fully exposing his chest so that she can slide her lips down the expanse of flesh. She sucks another bruise into the skin just beside his nipple as her hands make quick work of the zip of his trousers. She pulls them down promptly once they’re undone, continuing the wet trail that her mouth leaves down his torso until she’s blowing hot breath against the fabric of his boxers just above his already-hard cock. She slides onto her knees on the floor before him, pulling the garment away, and takes him in her mouth almost immediately, never breaking eye from his. It’s perhaps the longest their eyes have maintained contact all week.

She sucks him expertly, swirling her tongue as her cheeks hollow and taking him down nearly to the base. He groans at her enthusiasm and she hums in response, the back of her throat vibrating against his throbbing tip. “Fuck, Emma,” he says, pulling at her hair lightly and iliciting a moan from her. He nearly loses himself at her response. “Come here, love.”

She hums again to question him, looking up as her tongue trails a thick line up his shaft and she sucks his tip once more. “Where?”

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to finish, and I won’t be able to fuck you.”

Releasing him with a pop, she presses herself up from her knees and begins to slide her leggings and knickers down her shapely legs. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” she asks as she pulls her top above her head and moves back towards him. She’s straddling his hips, his erection trapped between his stomach and her core, and the heat of her against him driving his mad. “I’m fucking you.”

“Bloody hell,” he breathes out as she grasps him and tucks him inside her. She moans, her hands sliding up his chest and taking his hand to place it on her breast still covered by her bra. He moves the fabric away as best he can through the distraction of having her around him, but he must be moving too slowly because she reaches around her back and unhooks it herself. As he squeezes again and runs his thumb along her nipple, she moans, tossing her head back so that her long hair almost tickles the tops of his thighs.

She rides him mercilessly, bouncing and and thrusting hard against him as she takes what she needs from him. He hopes it helps her; he could see her fear all week, her lack of control driving her to a state he hasn’t seen her in in quite some time. Her walls are coming back up, and watching it happen before him and being unable to prevent it hurts more than he knows what to do with.

“Fuck,” Emma says, reaching her hand to rub tight circles along her clit as she continues to squeeze him. “God, yes.”

“That’s it, darling. Take what you need from me,” he chokes out. He’s hardly even coherent, barely holding himself together as he prays for her quick release after the work she has put in on him moments ago. “I’m here, love, take what you need.”

“I need you,” she whimpers. Her voice is high and breathy as she collapses against him, one hand still trapped between them on her clit and the other wrapping around his neck. “I need,” she breathes, following it with nothing.

He chooses now to bend his knees and thrust his hips up into her finally, feeling her squeeze her arm harder around his neck and her core tighter against his cock. He groans into her neck, holding her hips so she can continue to move above him as he meets her with each thrust. “That’s so good, love, you feel so perfect. Such a good job for me, that’s it.”

“Killian,” she chokes out. “I— I lo—”

He thinks for sure that she’ll say it— he would’ve loved to hear it— but instead, she squeezes once more, choking out a cry that tells him she’s cascading off the cliff they worked towards together. As soon as she gives him permission through her own orgasm, he’s spilling himself inside her. She lets out a keening whimper as she comes down, her lips biting and kissing against his neck as she collapses.

He turns his head towards her’s, kissing her forehead and rubbing his bare arm up and down along her back as she comes back down. He hasn’t been with her with her walls this high since Neverland, and he isn’t sure how she’ll react to his attempts to hold her after such animalistic sex, but he chances it.

After he rolls them onto their sides, she holds on tightly to him but won’t move her head from its spot under his chin. He feels her shallow breaths hitting the skin of his collarbone, tickling the hairs gently as he runs his fingers along her spine. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispers, and he feels his heart squeezing painfully in his chest.

He pulls her impossibly closer to him and responds, “there isn’t anything wrong with you, my love,” and kisses the crown of her head once more.

“I don’t know why I can’t just…” she shrugs.

He thinks— he hopes— he knows what she means. She feels love for him, but can’t say the words and stay for the aftermath. Assuming this is correct, he says, “it’s okay. I love you enough for the both of us.”

He feels her burying her face further into his chest and she tightens her grip on his torso. “I feel it, I do. I just…”

“I know.”

He does know. He only hopes that he doesn’t soon get to a place where that isn’t enough anymore.

~~~~

They meet again at Granny’s in the morning, Ruby and Tink staying with Henry and Corrine despite the lass’s protests. She wants desperately to come with her parents, and her increased clinginess to the both of them worries Killian. He thinks it worries Emma more. Just one more straw that threatens to break the camel’s back that is Emma, he thinks.

Regina can hardly focus. She’s still going back and forth between talking to them as herself and the Dark One, and her quick flip from one personality to another startles them all. Today, she can’t seem to think about anything aside from Henry, and he can feel Emma’s tension from across the diner.

“Regina, we need a real plan.”

“I have a plan! It’s to see my son!”

“We need a plan for getting the darkness out of you. Have you found anything in your books or your vault?”

“Emma, I have to see him,” she pleads. “He’s the only thing that can keep me sane right now. Being the Dark One is so hard… I’m trying so hard not to give in, and he gives me strength to fight it.”

He watches as Emma blinks, sighing and letting her head fall forward at Regina’s words. She’s trying to appeal to Emma’s motherhood, and it isn’t fair. He wants to step in, but they asked to talk privately and he’s trying to respect that.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Emma says softly. “It’s just not a good idea right now.”

“So Emma Swan finally has something over me and she’s milking it for all it’s worth, is that it?”

“Regina, it isn’t that. You know I want what’s best for Henry.”

“Then why the hell won’t you let him see me? Is it revenge over what happened last year that you want?”

“No!”

“You finally have a say in this and you can’t seem to let go.”

“Regina, Henry doesn’t want to see you,” Emma practically shouts. Killian’s blood runs cold.

“What?” Regina spits, leaning towards Emma threateningly. He stands from his stool at the counter and starts to make his way over to them.

“He’s scared! He spent so much of his life frightened of his mother being the Evil Queen and now he’s scared that you’re going to hurt someone he loves again!”

He places his hand on Emma’s shoulder and feels her tense up in response. Regina stands slowly, leering over Emma and smiling maliciously. “We’ll see.”

“What does that mean…?” Emma asks softly, leaning back against his hand and seemingly taking comfort in his presence.

“Well, Miss Swan, I suppose you’ll see.”

“Regina—”

“Just you wait, Miss Swan. You can’t keep my son from me forever.”

Before Emma can argue, she vanishes.

~~~~

“I need your help.”

“With what?”

“A plan. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your little scheme to get what you wanted last year.”

“So the new Dark One needs help from the old Dark One’s son?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Your plan to make everyone forget and keep your family to yourself was perfect, aside from the fact that it may have taken Henry from me. I need your help to make that happen now.”

“How will you do it?”

“Allow me to show you.”

~~~~

~~~~

Thoughts????? :)

Read Chapter 4

You Are Jeff

1 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which twin you are in love with at the time. Do not choose sides yet. It is still to your advan- tage to remain impartial. Both motorbikes are shiny red and both boys have perfect teeth, dark hair, soft hands. The one in front will want to take you apart, and slowly. His deft and stubby fingers searching every shank and lock for weaknesses. You could love this boy with all your heart. The other brother only wants to stitch you back together. The sun shines down. It's a beautiful day. Consider the hairpin turn. Do not choose sides yet. 2 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road. Let's call them Jeff. And because the first Jeff is in front we'll consider him the older, and therefore responsible for lending money and the occa- sional punch in the shoulder. World-wise, world-weary, and not his mother's favorite, this Jeff will always win when it all comes down to fisticuffs. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't always all come down to fisticuffs. Jeff is thinking about his brother down the winding road be- hind him. He is thinking that if only he could cut him open and peel him back and crawl inside this second skin, then he could relive that last mile again: reborn, wild-eyed, free. 3 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which Jeff you are. It could have been so beautiful—you scout out the road ahead and I will watch your back, how it was and how it will be, memory and fantasy— but each Jeff wants to be the other one. My name is Jeff and I'm tired of looking at the back of your head. My name is Jeff and I'm tired of seeing my hand me down clothes. Look, Jeff, I'm telling you, for the last time, I mean it, etcetera. They are the same and they are not the same. They are the same and they hate each other for it. 4 Your name is Jeff and somewhere up ahead of you your brother has pulled to the side of the road and he is waiting for you with a lug wrench clutched in his greasy fist. 0 how he loves you, darling boy. 0 how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night. When he throws the wrench into the air it will catch the light as it spins toward you. Look—it looks like a star. You had expected something else, anything else, but the wrench never reaches you. It hangs in the air like that, spinning in the air like that. It's beautiful. 5 Let's say God in his High Heaven is hungry and has decided to make himself some tuna fish sandwiches. He's already finished making two of them, on sourdough, before he realizes that the fish is bad. What is he going to do with these sandwiches? They're already made, but he doesn't want to eat them. Let's say the Devil is played by two men. We'll call them Jeff. Dark hair, green eyes, white teeth, pink tongues—they're twins. The one on the left has gone bad in the middle, and the other one on the left is about to. As they wrestle, you can tell that they have forgotten about God, and they are very hungry. 6 You are playing cards with three men named Jeff. Two of the Jeffs seem somewhat familiar, but the Jeff across from you keeps staring at your hands, your mouth, and you're certain that you've never seen this Jeff before. But he's on your team, and you're ahead, you're winning big, and yet the other Jeffs keep smiling at you like there's no tomorrow. They all have perfect teeth: white, square, clean, even. And, for some reason, the lighting in the room makes their teeth seem closer than they should be, as if each mouth was a place, a living room with pink carpet and the window's open. Come back from the window, Jefferson. Take off those wet clothes and come over here, by the fire. 7 You are playing cards with three Jeffs. One is your father, one is your brother, and the other is your current boyfriend. All of them have seen you naked and heard you talking in your sleep. Your boyfriend Jeff gets up to answer the phone. To them he is a mirror, but to you he is a room. Phone's for you, Jeff says. Hey! It's Uncle Jeff, who isn't really your uncle, but you can't talk right now, one of the Jeffs has put his tongue in your mouth. Please let it be the right one. 8 Two brothers are fighting by the side of the road. Two motorbikes have fallen over on the shoulder, leaking oil into the dirt, while the interlocking brothers grapple and swing. You see them through the backseat window as you and your parents drive past. You are twelve years old. You do not have a brother. You have never experienced anything this ferocious or intentional with another person. Your mother is pretending that she hasn't seen anything. Your father is fiddling with the knobs of the radio. There is an empty space next to you in the backseat of the station wagon. Make it the shape of everything you need. Now say hello. 9 You are in an ordinary suburban bedroom with bunk beds, a bookshelf, two wooden desks and chairs. You are lying on your back, on the top bunk, very close to the textured ceiling, staring straight at it in fact, and the room is still dark except for a wedge of powdery light that spills in from the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom is covered in mint green tile and someone is in there, singing very softly. Is he singing to you? For you? Black cherries in chocolate, the ring around the moon, a bee- tle underneath a glass—you cannot make out all the words, but you're sure he knows you're in there, and he's singing to you, even though you don't know who he is. 10 You see it as a room, a tabernacle, the dark hotel. You're in the hallway again, and you open the door, and if you're ready you'll see it, but maybe one part of your mind decides that the other parts aren't ready, and then you don't remember where you've been, and you find yourself down the hall again, the lights gone dim as the left hand sings the right hand back to sleep. It's a puzzle: each piece, each room, each time you put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, your ear to the wound that whispers. You're in the hallway again. The radio is playing your favorite song. You're in the hallway. Open the door again. Open the door. 11 Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. Can the heart escape? Does love even care? Snow falls as we dump the booth in the bay. Suppose for a moment we are crowded around a pier, waiting for something to ripple the water. We believe in you. There is no danger. It is not getting dark, we want to say. 12 Consider the hairpin turn. It is waiting for you like a red door or the broken leg of a dog. The sun is shining, O how the sun shines down! Your speedometer and your handgrips and the feel of the road below you, how it knows you, the black ribbon spread out on the greens be- tween these lines that suddenly don't reach to the horizon. It is waiting, like a broken door, like the red dog that chases its tail and eats your rose- bushes and then must be forgiven. Who do you love, Jeff? Who do you love? You were driving toward something and then, well, then you found yourself driving the other way. The dog is asleep. The road is be- hind you. O how the sun shines down. 13 This time everyone has the best intentions. You have cancer. Let's say you have cancer. Let's say you've swallowed a bad thing and now it's got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you're happy anyway, and that's okay, it's a love story after all, a lasting love, a wonderful adventure with lots of action, where the mirror says mirror and the hand says hand and the front door never says Sorry Charlie. So the doctor says you need more stitches and the bruise cream isn't working. So much for the facts. Let's say you're still completely in the dark but we love you anyway. We love you. We really do. 14 After work you go to the grocery store to get some milk and a carton of cigarettes. Where did you get those bruises? You don't remember. Work was boring. You find a jar of bruise cream and a can of stewed tomatoes. Maybe a salad? Spinach, walnuts, blue cheese, apples, and you can't decide between the Extra Large or Jumbo black olives. Which is bigger anyway? Extra Large has a blue label, Jumbo has a purple label. Both cans cost $1.29. While you're deciding, the afternoon light is streaming through the windows behind the bank of checkout coun- ters. Take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest, holding onto it and not letting it go. Now let it go. 15 Like sandpaper, the light, or a blessing, or a bruise. Blood everywhere, he said, the red light hemorrhaging from everywhere at once. The train station blue, your lips blue, hands cold and the blue wind. Or a horse, your favorite horse now raised up again out of the mud and galloping galloping always toward you. In your ruined shirt, on the last day, while the bruise won't heal, and the stain stays put, the red light streaming in from everywhere at once. Your broken ribs, the back of your head, your hand to mouth or hand to now, right now, like you mean it, like it's split- ting you in two. Now look at the lights, the lights. 16 You and your lover are making out in the corner booth of a seedy bar. The booths are plush and the drinks are cheap and in this dim and smoky light you can barely tell whose hands are whose. Someone raises their glass for a toast. Is that the Hand of Judgment or the Hand of Mercy? The bartender smiles, running a rag across the burnished wood of the bar. The drink in front of you has already been paid for. Drink it, the bartender says. It's yours, you deserve it. It's already been paid for. Somebody's paid for it already. There's no mistake, he says. It's your drink, the one you asked for, just the way you like it. How can you refuse Hands of fire, hands of air, hands of water, hands of dirt. Someone's doing all the talking but no one's lips move. Consider the hairpin turn. 17 The motorbikes are neck and neck but where's the checkered flag we all expected, waving in the distance, telling you you're home again, home? He's next to you, right next to you in fact, so close, or. . . he isn't. Imagine a room. Yes, imagine a room: two chairs facing the window but nobody moves. Don't move. Keep staring straight into my eyes. It feels like you're not moving, the way when, dancing, the room will suddenly fall away. You're dancing: you're neck and neck or cheek to cheek, he's there or he isn't, the open road. Imagine a room. Imagine you're danc- ing. Imagine the room now falling away. Don't move. 18 Two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart. Two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together. It's time to choose sides now. The stitches or the devouring mouth? You want an alibi? You don't get an alibi, you get two brothers. Here are two Jeffs. Pick one. This is how you make the meaning, you take two things and try to define the space between them. Jeff or Jeff? Who do you want to be? You just wanted to play in your own backyard, but you don't know where your own yard is, exactly. You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet. You are here. You are here. You're still right here. 19 Here are your names and here is the list and here are the things you left behind: The mark on the floor from pushing your chair back, your un- derwear, one half brick of cheese, the kind I don't like, wrapped up, and poorly, and abandoned on the second shelf next to the poppyseed dress- ing, which is also yours. Here's the champagne on the floor, and here are your house keys, and here are the curtains that your cat peed on. And here is your cat, who keeps eating grass and vomiting in the hall- way. Here is the list with all of your names, Jeff. They're not the same name, Jeff. They're not the same at all. 20 There are two twins on motorbikes but they are not on motorbikes, they're in a garden where the flowers are as big as thumbs. Imagine you are in a field of daisies. What are you doing in a field of daisies? Get up! Let's say you're not in the field anymore. Let's say they're not brothers anymore. That's right, they're not brothers, they're just one guy, and he knows you, and he's talking to you, but you're in pain and you can- not understand him. What are you still doing in this field? Get out of the field! You should be in the hotel room! You should, at least, be try- ing to get back into the hotel room. Ah! Now the field is empty. 21 Hold onto your voice. Hold onto your breath. Don't make a noise, don't leave the room until I come back from the dead for you. I will come back from the dead for you. This could be a city. This could be a graveyard. This could be the basket of a big balloon. Leave the lights on. Leave a trail of letters like those little knots of bread we used to dream about. We used to dream about them. We used to do a lot of things. Put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, pick up the bread and devour it. I'm in the hallway again, I'm in the hallway. The radio's playing my favorite song. Leave the lights on. Keep talking. I'll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. 22 Someone had a party while you were sleeping but you weren't really sleeping, you were sick, and parts of you were burning, and you couldn't move. Perhaps the party was in your honor. You can't remem- ber. It seems the phone was ringing in the dream you were having but there's no proof. A dish in the sink that might be yours, some clothes on the floor that might belong to someone else. When was the last time you found yourself looking out of this window. Hey! This is a beautiful window! This is a beautiful view! 1 hose trees lined up like that, and the way the stars are spinning over them like that, spinning in the air like that, like wrenches. 23 Let's say that God is the space between two men and the Devil is the space between two men. Here: I'll be all of them-Jeff and Jeff and Jeff and Jeff are standing on the shoulder of the highway, four motorbikes knocked over, two wrenches spinning in the ordinary air. Two of these Jeffs are windows, and two of these Jeffs are doors, and all of these Jeffs are trying to tell you something. Come closer. We'll whisper it in your ear. It's like seeing your face in a bowl of soup, cream of potato, and the eyes shining back like spoons. If we wanted to tell you everything, we would leave more footprints in the snow or kiss you harder. One thing. Come closer. Listen . . . 24 You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terr- ible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired. You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.

julie’s ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to refind the magic in music. luke’s about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run hight. now they’ve just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter)

trigger warnings!! alcohol and swearing and mentions of blood via food

also on ao3 –– [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | extras 1 & 2 ]

spring

“I still can’t believe you didn’t kiss him,” Flynn’s voice echoes through her phone where it’s propped against a book of Shakespeare’s poems and being stopped from sliding down her desk by her half eaten sandwich. Which hadn't been her best plan, because she was starving and now her sandwich was employed elsewhere.

“I’m not just going to kiss a random guy a met once,” she can see Flynn opening her mouth with a retort so jumps in to add, “I like him, yes, but I’d rather have him as a friend then an awkward one night stand situation that’s made even more awkward when I eventually run into him again because one of his bandmates is Carrie’s cousin.”

It all seems perfectly logical to her. Luke was cute, yes. And sure, she’d wanted to kiss him, but if it came down to one kiss or a new friendship? She was going to choose friendship. They’d connected more in one night then she’d connected with anyone in years. They got each other.

(What Julie hadn’t told Flynn or Carrie or anyone, was about the deal they had made. About how if by December, when she was wrapping up her year in England and they were finishing with their album and they were still talking, still felt the same, they’d try.

Julie didn’t mention it to anyone, barely even liked to think about it herself because she didn’t want to jinx it, didn’t want to spend time wondering what might happen when they tried. What trying even meant.)

“So you’re going to be friends?”

It’s pretty impressive, Julie thinks, how Flynn can convey her utter disbelief and amusement via a single eyebrow raise on a slightly blurry and pixelated facetime call. Maybe it’s the years of friendship that means Julie knows what she’s not saying or maybe it’s just Flynn’s power. Either way it has her pushing her laptop away with a sigh and picking up her phone. Scooping her sandwich up with her other hand. 

“Yes, we’re going to be friends. We can be friends. Do you not think we can be friends?” Julie furrows her brows, both in concern and how many times she’s said the word ‘friends’ in one breath.

“Of course I think you can be friends! He’d be lucky to be your friend, you’re amazing,” Flynn is quick with her reassurance, but Julie can tell there’s a ‘but’ coming and braces herself for impact. “But. The two of you spent practically the whole night together and have spent pretty much every day since talking. Plus, you’d have to be pretty blind to miss the way he was looking at you in the least friend way possible.”

Julie really hoped that the wifi connection was bad enough to hide the blush she could feel heating her cheeks at the reminder of the way Luke had looked at her. She had never really understood what books meant by ‘intensity of their stare’ before, but she was pretty sure it was whatever Luke was doing with his face and his eyes, somehow he could even do it through a facetime call. Personally, she thinks it should be illegal. His whole face. Banned. Fined every time he looked like he looked.

“Yeah, well,” Julie swallowed, tucking hair behind her ear for something to do while she tried to gather her thoughts and control her face. “We’re still going to be friends. And anyway, we’ll probably slowly stop talking before we ever meet again and he’ll find some extremely pretty girl on tour and fall madly in love and forget all about me.”

As long as she was telling herself that it meant she couldn’t be too disappointed when it came true. No point getting her hopes up.

“If you say so,” Flynn didn’t sound convinced and Julie rolled her eyes at her friend, sticking her tongue out childishly, to be rewarded with Flynn laughing.

“Now come on, enough about me and my awful love life. Tell me about this thing you're working on!”

// 

//

“Ow, crap.”

It’s not really the first thing you want to hear when you accept a phone call at 8am. Julie blinks at her phone as she pulls it away from her ear to double check the caller id and that she hadn’t imagined it ringing. But there’s Luke’s name and his slightly blurry photo staring back at her.

“Luke?” She asks, hears the sounds of a scuffle on the other end like someone juggling too many objects at once.

“Julie! Hey! Sorry, just spilt one of my coffees. Is black pudding made with blood?” Luke’s question catches her off guard. Her mind is still trying to process the mention of multiple coffees that it takes her a moment to register what he’s asking her. And it just causes more confusion to her half asleep mind.

“Are you really calling me at 8am to ask about black pudding? Why are you even awake?” She groans, collapsing back against her pillows and pulling the covers back up to her chin. It was Friday, she didn’t have class until 1pm, she was supposed to get to sleep late and he’d woken her up.

To talk about black pudding. Idly, she wondered if it was too early in their friendship to just hang up without it seeming too rude.

“Last night Reg said it was like haggis, but that doesn’t make sense, does it? Because I swear haggis is like, sheep. And you’d think blood pudding would be, y’know, blood. Given its name.” He kept talking away, apparently not at all discouraged by her lack of response.

Julie let her eyes fall shut as she listened to him talk, to his voice and not really what he was saying. He had a very nice voice, it was kind of soothing, letting his excitement and enthusiasm wash over her. How could someone be so enthused about a random food at 8am? Julie struggles to follow his train of thought and why she was his chosen person to call about the matter. But she doesn't think he really wants her input anyway. Just an excuse to call her.

She’d been guilty of a similar thing. Calling him for no real reason other than the fact she’d wanted to talk to him. At least when she’d called it had been at a reasonable hour and about something more interesting than a weird food dish.

“How long have you been up?” Julie cuts through his rant on weird British dishes, stifling a yawn against her covers.

“Er…” there’s a pause, phone line crackling as he seems to think, “Like an hour? I went out to get the boys coffee, because I’m super nice like that, but they were still asleep when I got back and I tried to wake ‘em up but Alex threatened to throw my guitar out the window so I wandered around the hotel for a while, drank my coffee, then I drank Alex’s as revenge, and then I got bored of walking around so now I’m sat in a park and talking to you. And drinking Reggie’s coffee. It’s the worst one. I hate oat milk.”

Julie can almost picture him, sitting on a random bench in a random park somewhere in Edinburgh, notebook and tangled headphones and three empty coffee cups next to him, all jittery caffeinated energy. It makes her smile and huff out a small laugh.

“You’re going to be so insufferable after all that coffee. They might kick you out of the band, abandon you somewhere in the highlands,” she teases.

“I’d just keep showing back up. Every time they tried to lose me I’d just show up again at the next venue with no explanation,” there’s a smile in his voice and Julie takes a moment to appreciate that she can tell. That they’ve talked enough now that she knows what he sounds like when he’s smiling, when he’s joking.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Go eat something with your fourth coffee please. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Shit, did I wake you up again? I thought you had a 9am on Thursdays.” He sounds so genuinely confused and concerned that Julie tries really hard not to laugh.

“I do. But it’s actually Friday, not Thursday.”

There’s a silence on the other end of the line and for a moment Julie thinks that maybe he’s hung up on her, but then he’s letting out a breathy laugh and she relaxes back against her mattress.

“Well fuck. That explains why they guys are still asleep and got pissed when I tried to wake ‘em up then.”

“Tour life is really messing with your days of the week, huh?”

“You’ve no idea,” There’s another pause and she hears rustling and footsteps and then, “I’ll let you go back to sleep. Talk later?”

There’s a note of hesitation in his voice and it makes Julie want to smile, so she does. “Yeah, talk later. Bye Luke.”

//

Julie spins around and around underneath a streetlight, her eyes locked above her as she watches the streams of light turn with her and make stars dance across her vision. A slight breeze blows her hair around her face and Julie lets out a laugh, light and airy like how she pictures all the bubbles in the drinks she's had tonight. 

She closes her eyes against a wave of dizziness and tries to imagine the stars.

There’s too many clouds in the sky for her to see the actual stars when she opens her eyes and it makes her pout, just a little. She likes to see the stars, to try and find constellations, and when she couldn’t do that, to make up her own.

Her phone makes a chiming sound in her hands and she whips her head down to look at it, Luke’s face filling her screen with a small frown, his eyebrows drawn together and a hair sticking up. A wide smile breaks out across her face and Julie raises her phone so it’s level with her face, even as she still spins around.

“Luke! Why are you on my phone?” Distantly, Julie knows she must be almost shouting, but she’s too happy and too drunk to really care.

“Er, you called me?” Luke sounds confused, but as Julie blows hair out of her face a small understanding smile tugs at Luke’s lips and Julie’s momentarily distracted by watching as the smile spreads across his face, reaching his eyes, one of his hands appearing in frame to push his hair out of his face. She stumbles to a stop, feeling a little dizzy from all her spinning and pounding heart.

“I did?” She doesn’t remember doing that, for a moment Julie frowns, lips pulling to the side as her eyes look at the ground before she blows out a breath and shrugs, looking back at Luke’s face on her phone. “Well, hi! We went out for drinks!"

Julie watches as Luke sits up in his bed, a light flicking on next to him and lighting up the room.

(In the morning, when she remembers this, she’ll probably feel bad about waking him, knowing his sleep schedule is already a mess. But right now, standing in the street halfway back to her dorm, two of her friends chatting a short distance away and a cute guy looking at her from her phone, she can’t really find it in her to feel bad. Just a giddy type of happiness.)

“You having a good night?” His voice is a little rough with sleep she notices, adds a gravely note to it that’s not normally there. Julie really wishes she could hear him talk like this all the time, first thing in the morning, in the middle of the night when one of them wakes up, after a nap in the middle of the day.

“The best! It would be more fun if you were here, though,” the words stumble past her lips without her even realising what she’s said. And she doesn’t notice the way Luke’s breath seems to catch through the speaker or the way his eyes widen a fraction or the way his smile turns more into a smirk. Whatever he’s about to respond with is cut off by Julie’s mind returning to her original disappointment of the night.

“You can’t see the stars here.”

Luke frowns a little and Julie tilts her phone so the camera is facing up and only the top of her head and her curls are in frame.

“See? No stars, only streetlights.” She pouts, tilting the phone back towards her with an exaggerated pout on her face that makes Luke laugh and Julie pout more. “Why are you laughing!? That’s mean! I miss the stars and you’re laughing!”

“Jules, it’s not like you can really see the stars all that much back home either,” he says it gently, but there’s still that teasing tone in his voice and hearing him call her ‘Jules’ makes butterflies form in her stomach.

“I still miss them.” She mutters, blowing out a breath and conceding the point. She’s honestly too drunk to even fight it and for a moment she sways slightly in place, her eyes staring just above her phone as she gets lost in her thoughts.

About stars and cute boys with calloused fingers and her friends who made her laugh and her mom who had taught her about constellations and how tired she suddenly feels.

“When we’re both back in LA I’ll take you somewhere you can see all the stars,” Luke says softly, so softly she almost misses it, but her eyes flicker down to the screen and lets a soft smile pull at her lips.

“I’d like that.”