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mindmelter · 9 months ago

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The Body Wearing Convention - Las Vegas

The BWA (Body Wearing Alliance) was formed 20 years ago when the internet was just starting to get popular. Those born with the rare ability of reducing people into wearable skins didn't knew there was more like them out there, but with the help of the internet they started to find others with the same ability, and soon it was created the BWC (Body Wearing Convention)

The Body Wearing Convention is a clandestine event that happens a few times every year, hidden from the prying eyes of the public, It is a secret event where they can gather, share stories, and find solace in the knowledge that they aren't alone in their power.

The BWC happens in a different country every time, for safety reasons, and the main two rules to participate in the convention is: To be a Skinwalker (That's how they call themselves) and to wear the body of a local from that place, that means you can't bring with yourself skins from home.

Currently the secret Alliance is made up of 130 men around the world. But among these 130 members, there are 10 men who are very close friends with each other, they all share one thing in common: They are all gay.

Surprisingly they are the only gay guys of the entire Alliance, while all the others sought power and money, these 10 friends only care about getting hard in a new sexy body, It was like a sport for them. That's why they created an online group chat, where they can talk and share pictures of their current bodies with each other.

The location of the BWC this time is: USA - Las Vegas.

The 10 friends all arrived individually at the city in an early Friday, the convention would occur during the weekend, so they had to find a new skin quickly, and so they went straight on a hunt for a random local body.

Think of the BWC as the Met Gala, but for people who can turn you into a wearable hollow fleshsuit in a blink. There was this unspoken competition among them, to see who was wearing the hottest or richest skin, and this group of friends clearly didn't care about the last one...

_______________________________________

Carl is a 46 years old married gay man, he is part of the BWA for 17 years, and there is nothing Carl love more than wearing the bodies of fit straight guys. His husband knows he's a skinwalker and is totally fine with it. But because his husband is not a skinwalker, he is not allowed to go to the conventions, so Carl always travels alone.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:19 AM) Carl Sent A Photo

Carl: I just turned this hot Latino stud in the hotel parking lot. He was walking towards his car while talking on the phone with his girlfriend. That's when I slowly walked behind him and turned him. What do you guys think? Do I wear him well?

Harold: You're looking so hot. You always pick the most hottest guys.

Elijah: Wow, you already found a body? That was fast.

Joel: He's not that impressive, I would give him a 6/10 lol

Elijah: Stop being a jerk Joel. This guy is clearly a 9/10

Carl: Don't mind him Elijah, he's just jealous of my pick.

Joel: He's not really my type, today I'm looking for a sexy tough looking guy to wear.

Peter: Hot choice of skin Carl! Show us his dick please!

Carl: You will have to wait until the Convention to see it. But i'm telling you, he's really big and thick, I know you're gonna love sucking it.

_______________________________________

David is 34 years old and he is part of the BWA for 13 years.

He first found out about his ability when his homophobic stepbrother was trying to beat him up, David closed his eyes and tried to protect his head, but when he opened his eyes, he saw his hot stepbrother lying on the floor completely deflated. David had the most fun years living the life of his douchebag of a stepbrother, until one day, his stepbrother just "disappeared"

(Friday, March 1st. 9:46 AM) David Sent A Photo:

David: I made two new bodysuits. I saw the handsome blond one at the hotel's pool, he was trying to seduce some girls by showing off his hot body, he just didn't knew he was actually seducing a skinwalker. To get him, I first had to convert this cute room service attendant, after I put him on, I got access to his room and walked inside. I think I'm going to use the attendant tonight for some fun.

Elijah: Oh, the good old room service method. It works every time.

David: It was you who taught me this method back in 2011 when I was still a new member of the BWA.

Damian: It brings back good memories from that one time where we all stayed at the same hotel in the 2011 Convention. Good times.

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Peter Is a 40 years old gay bottom who love to turn big hunky men into Bodysuits and act like a slut in their bodies. He is part of the Body Wearing Alliance for 9 years.

(Friday, March 1st. 11:28 AM) Peter Sent A Photo:

Peter: Do I look cute? This is Ramón, I turned him at an alley while he was jogging, he's a bodybuilder. I'm gonna make such a good use of his muscles. I'm sure you guys are going to love the muscles in his ass the most.

Joel: I love how you always pick the most biggest guys.

Daniel: I feel bad for this poor bastard, of all the Skinwalkers, he was picked by the most perverted one.

Peter: lol

Carl: He's huge. I'm going to enjoy burying my new thick latino dick in your bodybuilder's ass.

Harold: I really like his pecs. I want to suck on them when we meet tomorrow.

Peter: It's always the pecs for you isn't, Harold? lol

Harold: You're not lying. Actually I just saw this hot guy at the mall and he seems to have very big pecs. I'm going to follow him.

_______________________________________

Harold is a 28 years old scrawny gay man, he has no muscle definition, but he love pecs and it was what he first looked for in a body: Their huge pecs. If the guy didn't had two big meaty pecs, he wound't want them.

He went to the local LA mall to hunt for a body, he knew that the mall was always the perfect place for hunting skins. And he was proven just right when he saw this big and tall hunk walk inside a clothing store. Harold smirked as he entered the store and followed the man.

(Friday, March 1st. 1:05 PM) Harold Sent A Photo:

Harold: Who want some milk boys? Daddy got all the milkers now.

Peter: Oh my god, look at the size of these tits. I will let you suck on Ramón's tits if you let me suck yours.

Harold: This sounds like a good deal.

Carl: Very nice choice of skin! Good job, Harold.

Peter: Can you send a video of you playing with those hairy tits and pinching his nipples? Please?

(1:15 PM, Harold Sent A 20 Seconds Video To The Group Chat)

In the vídeo he was in the middle of the store, squeezing his new pair of meaty hairy pecs, he lifted one of them and let go, watching them bounce, then he pinched his left nipple and let out a deep loud moan. Without feeling any shame for being in a public space. It wasn't technically him who was being humiliated in public, so he didn't cared.

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Damian and Rashad are a black gay couple (47, 49) they have been together for 11 years and they both had met each other during a Body Wearing Convention back in 2013. It was very known to everyone that they only turned white men into Bodysuits, it was their favorite type of skins. So there was no diversity in their Bodysuit closet, only white men.

(Friday, March 1st. 3:07 PM) Damian Sent A Photo:

Damian: You guys know how Rashad and I love to hunt white boys, so what better place to find some white skins than at the LA beach? We saw this group of young frat boys surfing and we converted these two 19 years olds, they were just the most handsome ones in their group. Turns out they are twin brothers.

David: This is such a hot pair, and the fact they are brothers makes it even more hot!

Carl: I want to fuck the long haired one with my thick latino dick while I pull his hair.

Damian: I like this Idea. His long hair would be great to use as a handle for a hard fuck. I might even try It later tonight.

David: Send us a video if you do.

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Joel is the youngest one of the group, at only 19 he already has a count of 86 Bodysuits, and he's part of the Body Wearing Alliance for only 1 year. That's why, the BWA leader tasked Elijah, a veteran in the art of wearing bodies, to watch for Joel and not let the young man expose their secret society.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:14 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: My new bodysuit is still deflating. I can't wait to finally wear him and show him to you guys. He's so hot.

Carl: You gave my bodysuit a 7/10, so he better be a 10/10.

Isaac: Wow he's packing.

Harold: When he deflate, please send us a pic of you in him. I want to see if his front looks as good as his back side.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:40 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: I'm inside him now. I saw this sexy daddy at the hotel's bar. I waited for him to go to his room and then I followed him, as soon as he opened the door I converted him, right there at the door's entrance, I mean, of course he took a bit longer to deflate, so I had to drag him inside. I actually wanted to wear a scary looking soldier that I saw at the bar, but Elijah didn't let me. Still, I'm very glad with my pick.

Harold: Holly fuck!!!

Peter: He's a very sexy bodysuit. Wish I was there to give him a very special room service.

Carl: Where is Elijah by the way? Should he not be with you?

Joel: Elijah Is outside, I don't know where he went, but he said he was going to be back soon.

Carl: Did he picked a bodysuit already?

Joel: Yes he did, a young and hot fuckboy. Let me send a pic of him.

Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: This is the body Elijah picked to wear at the convention tomorrow. I think he got this one at the hotel's bathroom maybe? I'm not sure. I hope he don't mind that I'm wearing his brand new skin.

Elijah: Boy, you're in big trouble!

Joel: Shit, I'm sorry, I thought you wouldn't mind. I'm gonna take him off.

Elijah: Don't you dare taking him off, I'm not going to wear him anymore, I found a better body to wear tomorrow. wait for me, I'm getting up there right now.

(Friday, March 1st. 6:22 PM) Elijah Sent A Photo:

Elijah: You don't want to disobey me in my new body, boy, so you better be on your knees when I get inside, I'm horny and this guy have big balls full of cum.

Joel: Yes sir!

Peter: Oh yes sir indeed!

Carl: lol you're fucked Joel.

_______________________________________

Isaac is a 24 years old gay man, and like everyone else in this group, he was addicted to wearing hunky men. He is more reserved and shy, and don't talk much in the group chat. However, he enjoys jerking off while viewing the photos his friends would send to the group chat.

He might be the most shy and reserved in the group, but once he's wearing a handsome hunk, he becomes a whole new different person, a more dominant and cocky one.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:37 PM) Isaac Sent A Photo:

Isaac: Seeing you guys wearing such hot bodies is getting me so freaking hard. I can't wait for tomorrow. I got this one at the gym's lockerroom. Who wants to take care of my boner?

Peter: I do! I want to get on my knees in Ramón's body and let you use his slutty mouth.

Harold: You're looking so damn hot, Isaac, good pick.

Carl: Was you working out? Your skin looks very sweaty.

Isaac: I was. I wanted to test out my new muscles.

Carl: Great. Can't wait for the convention tomorrow, where we can finally see each other's bodies in person and have the orgy of the year.

#bodysuit

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schmergo · 3 months ago

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Today I learned a fact that kinda blew my mind, and I'm almost astonished I didn't know this before as someone whose chief interests include zoo animals, the U.S. Presidency, true crime, and D.C. history. What an opener, right? How could those topics possibly combine?

Well, buckle up and get ready to hear how negligent National Zoo leadership potentially could have killed a US President or started a local epidemic. Spoiler alert: They didn't. But only because luck was in their favor.

First, the part that I DID already know. In 2004, Lucy Spelman stepped down as the director of the National Zoo after a spate of controversial zoo incidents, including a string of unfortunate (and often preventable) animal deaths, misleading and missing zoo records, and other signs of negligence. The AZA even "tabled" renewing the National Zoo's accreditation for a year until they made some significant improvements. Spelman was also a vet and some of the cases she was accused of bungling happened at her own hands, not just under her supervision. It was a major disgrace for a zoo that was meant to represent the nation's capital.

I was in elementary school during these fraught years and I remember devouring articles about this in the newspaper, riveted with shock and dismay. Some of the deaths were just bad luck, but others were obviously negligent. The most infamous case was two red pandas killed by rat poison shallowly buried in their enclosures as a slapdash solution to the zoo's pest problem. A young zebra died of starvation and hypothermia after Spelman ordered the zebras' feed be cut in half, an orangutan was euthanized due to a recurrence of cancer that didn't exist (she actually had salmonella), a lion died after being administered over twice the usual amount of anesthetic, and more. I remember the names and details of these animals from when I first read these cases 20 years ago. But the one I'm talking about today is that of Nancy the elephant.

Nancy was a 46-year-old African elephant whose health had been steadily declining for several years. She suffered from a bone infection in her foot that seriously affected her mobility and quality of life. She had lost a lot of weight, she was fatigued, she even lay down at times. Nobody could be blamed for deciding to euthanize the obviously ill animal.

But they could be blamed for what was discovered in the necropsy after she was euthanized. While she did indeed have a diseased foot, the bone infection was only "moderate." Why, then, was she so obviously unwell? Her lungs had been destroyed by the effects of untreated tuberculosis. It was the tuberculosis, not the sore foot, that most contributed to her decline in health.

Here’s the scary part: nobody knows how long she'd had it because she hadn't been tested for tuberculosis, a known concern for zoo elephants, in TWO YEARS. All this despite the fact that it's MANDATORY for all zoo elephants to receive a tuberculosis test once per year-- and in fact, it was a National Zoo staff member who pushed for that reform in the first place. And the elephant was on Prednisone for her foot issues, which zoo staff noted in her records made her more vulnerable to illnesses like TB. In fact, none of the zoo's elephants had been tested recently, which meant any of them, including one who was pregnant, may have had tuberculosis, too.

There are documented cases of humans catching tuberculosis from elephants. Now, Nancy the elephant had bovine tuberculosis, which seems to be less contagious to humans and which elephants haven't so far spread to humans... BUT it has spread to humans from black rhinos, a fairly close relative, so it seems likely that elephants COULD spread it. It can also take a while for TB for incubate (and can also be latent without symptoms), especially for elephants, so the elephants OR keepers who were around Nancy were at serious risk for TB.

NOW HERE IS THE PART THAT I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT UNTIL TODAY:

Spelman actively tried to COVER UP the situation, potentially putting many more people at risk. The elephant house was closed to zoo guests, but they were only told it was for "renovations." (The actual renovations, incidentally, were to improve ventilation so that illness would be less likely to spread.)

A BBC news crew that came to film the elephants was asked to keep a healthy distance from the elephants for their emotional health and the crew's safety-- the explanation given was that the elephants' group dynamics had been thrown off by Nancy's death. Spelman instructed zoo staff not to mention the TB situation to the BBC crew and, if asked why Nancy died, they were to respond that it was for multiple reasons and that the official test results weren't all back yet.

And here's the most shocking part of all, the part that made me GASP out loud. Spelman still personally gave some special VIP behind-the-scenes tours of the elephant house during the months that the elephant house was closed, a time when the remaining elephant inhabitants could potentially still develop active TB.

One VIP who received an elephant house tour was PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON and five family members!!!!

BILL. CLINTON. THE GOSHDARN PRESIDENT.

While zoo staff says that the tour was deliberately distanced and nobody got close to an elephant, there are photos of Bill Clinton's nephew about a foot away from an elephant's trunk. You know, their nose. The part they can spread disease with. So, uh, definitely in the danger zone there.

Hillary Clinton's brother, Tony Rodham, was on the tour and he said that nobody in the party was warned about TB risk or asked if they had any medical conditions that might (a. make them susceptible to communicable disease, or (b. be contagious to the elephants. This is especially egregious because according to zoo guidelines, all behind-the-scenes tour participants MUST be asked these questions-- not just when there's a very real possibility of a TB outbreak at the zoo.

Fortunately, none of the zoo's other elephants OR keepers ever tested positive for tuberculosis. But it was certainly a close call! And imagine what would have happened if a US President caught TB from a close encounter with an elephant thanks to poorly managed zoo staff.

Presidents meet a lot of people. In fact, this zoo visit happened only 2 weeks before the inauguration of President George W. Bush, which Clinton attended. He very well could have started a TB outbreak there. Heck, TWO US Presidents could have been infected!

Now THAT is something I will be thinking about for a long time!

#schmergo #animals #zoos #creepy #dark history

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punkrockhistory · 8 days ago

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46 years ago today

Bob Mothersbaugh performing with Devo at the Old Waldorf in San Francisco, November 20, 1978.

Photo by Clayton Call

#punk #punks #punkrock #postpunk #newwave #devo #mark mothersbaugh #history #punkrockhistory #otd

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nova-is-a-writer-now · 4 months ago

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Hidden Embers

Series summary: You return to your home state the summer after graduating college. The relentless Texas heat, the suburban southern bubble and your treacherous relationship with your mom give you the feeling this will be a long summer. That's until Joel Miller enters the picture.

Summary: Your welcome-back party brings a re-encounter with one of your dad’s old friends, one you don’t remember looking so good.

A/N: Hello strangers, haven't seen you in a long long time. This is something that's been on the works for months now. Ideally, I wanted to put this series out when I had a good enough chunk of the story finished since I'm the most undecisive person ever. However, I wanna start posting some chapters on here as I go and then post the full completed thing on AO3. I will warn you though, it is very likely that as I write the story, I will keep on making some changes to previously posted chapters just so in the end it all makes sense and it's cohesive, I will let you guys know whenever there has been a major change. Take this as me asking the tumblr girlies to beta read this series before i publish it over on AO3. In any case, I hope the ones who decide to start reading here instead of waiting for the full thing enjoy it very much, I'm very open to suggestions, opinions and constructive critisism. :)

Warnings: Age-gap (Reader is 22, Joel is 46), Dbf!Joel, mommy issues

It was your first summer back home after graduation. The relentless Texas heat was bringing memories from your childhood that had been buried away until now, some of them felt more like dreams at this point. You had never been too good with the heat, but spending four years in chilly, gloomy New England had certainly birthed a new appreciation for it.

You weren’t sure you wanted to come back and stay for the entire summer, but your southern-to-the-core mother has a knack for getting her way. Something about “You were away for four whole years, I’m sure you can spare us a couple months before you jump right into a job in god knows where. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up moving back and finding something around here, a nice guy to settle down with and finally get your life going.”

God forbid.

Naturally, in true southern fashion, your parents had to make your graduation celebration a neighborhood affair. A big barbeque, with all the nice people your parents grew up with, went to highschool and college with, who married and had kids with each other. People who haven’t, a day in their lives, given a single thought to what might exist outside of their perfect suburban bubbles.

You weren’t trying to act ungrateful – it was a celebration of one of your most important milestones after all. People were coming together to congratulate you and your achievements. But if it were up to you, none of them would have been invited and you wouldn’t have celebrated it like this. Honestly, you missed the trips you used to take with your dad as a kid, all the way out in the countryside. Just the two of you for a week during the summer, staying in an old cabin that creaked and shook whenever your steps were too heavy. You don't remember why you stopped going, but you wished you still did. It would have been a much nicer celebration.

None of today’s guests knew you as anything other than your parent’s daughter, the shiny new thing your mother was choosing to show off. You knew that’s how it was gonna be the second your mother told you there was no point in attending your college’s graduation party, why would you when they could make you your own celebration back home with all the nice neighborhood people instead of a room full of strangers?

Your dad had good intentions, you knew that… deep, deep down. But it had always just been the three of you, and even when it was blatantly obvious your mother was in the wrong, even when there was no way of justifying her behavior, he still stood behind her, echoing her words.

And that's how you ended up here, prepping food for your own graduation barbeque, decorating your own garden, cleaning up your own house so it would be squeaky clean for people you hadn’t seen in well over a decade. It’s what a “Do it for me, i’ll make it up to you I promise. The community is just really important to your mom” from your dad gets out of you.

You had probably been looking at yourself for a good twenty minutes now. Nothing you tried on felt quite right. It was either too formal, too casual, too revealing or too childish. This was a direct consequence of moving out of the south at the ripe age of 10; No one in Virginia taught you how to dress for a neighborhood barbeque.

Last minute you land on a blue sundress, delicate white flowers scattered around, long enough to cover your knees but not enough to make you look like you just walked out of Sunday school. You took that as a win.

At the sound of your mother loudly complaining about no one in the house ever helping (a comment undoubtedly directed at you), you decide to drag yourself downstairs. The sooner you get this party started, the sooner you could be done with it.

Rushing down the stairs, distractedly gathering your hair up with a tie, you unexpectedly bump into something – or rather someone.

"Easy, there. Where's the fire?"

That familiar voice… same old Joel Miller. A few more grays overpowering the darkness of his hair, a couple more wrinkles here and there and a deeper tan painting his skin a more caramel-y shade. But it was still him.

You knew very little about Joel, just that he was your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember. The periodic phone calls they filled with hour-long football discussions, the christmas cards exchanged and birthday wishes texted. You remember him being around the house a lot before moving out of Texas, although the specifics of it escape your memory.

Now he’s standing right in front of you, firm hands holding you by your arms to make sure you won't lose your balance, and you’re faced with the fact that twenty-two-year-old you might be seeing Joel Miller through a different lens.

Your brain isn’t really doing what it’s meant to do, which in this exact moment would be produce an acceptable response for the six-foot-something man with broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes and a musky, woody scent that made you wanna… No. Focus.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t even see you there… I didn’t think anyone would arrive until five.” you finally reply to his expectant stare.

“No need to be sorry.” He says back, letting go of your arms once he’s sure you’re able to stand on your own. “Well, welcome home. Haven’t seen you since you were running around in mermaid tees”

Yeah, now seemed like the right time to look for a hole in the ground to crawl into.

“Oh, that’s not fair, I grew out of my mermaid phase long before we moved. I was well into boyband territory last time you saw me” you try to joke your way through the conversation, hoping the burning sensation crawling up to your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels.

The embarrassment of the moment would have churned your insides for much longer if Joel's mouth hadn't quirked up in a charming smirk, so captivating it was hard to believe he wasn't aware of its effect.

That on its own was already causing some conflicting feelings to boil up inside you, but then he had the nerve to let out a small chuckle he seemed to have been trying to hold back. He was chuckling... Texas’ resident grump was chuckling at your joke, which wasn't even that funny if we’re being fully earnest. Why did you like that thought so much?

You were about to say something, anything really, in a shameless attempt to see if you could earn one more of those, when your mother's approaching voice snapped you out of the haze.

“Are you gonna make me drag you in here, or will you do me the courtesy of helping out... Oh, goodness me! Joel! I didn’t hear you come in, you’re here early.” She switched gears faster than a professional racer. Suddenly, she was back to being the neighborhood’s sweetheart, her voice dripping with that sickly sweet drawl.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the intrusion,” Joel replies, slipping back into his usual, almost stiff demeanor. Whatever new side you had seen of him a second ago was quickly gone. “Hank asked me to drop by a bit earlier to bring him the grill. Said mine’s better suited for the amount of meat he’s buying.”

“Oh, how that man refuses to listen. I told him we didn’t need that much meat. I'm making a whole lotta side dishes,” she whines, waving her hand dismissively. “Well, I guess everyone will be taking leftovers home then. Hank went over to the store to grab me some stuff I was missing. He should be back in a heartbeat.” She glances back at you and, in that passive-aggressive tone that almost anybody else would miss, said, “Well, sweetheart, don’t just stand there. Go help Joel unload his grill and show him what a good host you are.”

It was only your third day back home. Somehow, four years of freedom had made living in this household even more unbearable.

Smile, turn around, walk away. Choose your peace, choose your peace, choose your peace.

Heavy footsteps echo yours all the way to the garage, where Joel's truck waited. You let him walk past you to unlock the tailgate. “Your mom hasn’t changed one bit, has she?” Joel says distractedly while grabbing some metal pieces that looked like parts of his grill.

“Oh, if you only knew.” you say back, trying your best to conceal the sharpness of your tone.

He hands you the cold metal parts, surprisingly lighter than you anticipated. You were convinced he only made you carry them to let you feel useful. “Believe me, I know. Known your mom since way before you were even a thought runnin’ through her mind.”

Right. Because Joel happens to be your parents’ age and over twice your senior. One of the many reasons why getting distracted by the way his muscles flexed while picking up the grill was so beyond wrong.

“You uh… you still live a few houses up the street?” You asked, trying your best to redirect your reckless thoughts.

“Same old house.” He replies with a slightly strained voice from carrying the weight. Once he set it down in the backyard, he turned around to take the pieces you were holding onto. “Renovated some of it, built a new pool out back.”

“That sounds nice, might have to check it out sometime.” You said it without even thinking much. What compelled you to think it was acceptable to tell a man you haven't seen in over a decade you would like to ‘check out’ his pool, was beyond you.

You thought Joel would chuckle it off or maybe not even acknowledge it, which he would’ve been well within his right to do, but he looked up to you from his leaning position next to the grill and said “Yeah, I think you might.”

You couldn’t shake off Joel’s words throughout the whole afternoon.

First chance you got to zone out in between introductions, awkward small talk and getting asked the same thing for the thousandth time, your mind drifted back to Joel’s words.

He was just being polite, right? He has always been a gentleman after all. Maybe it was just the southern hospitality in him, maybe he didn’t even mean it and was just trying to be nice.

Yeah, I think you might

You were probably just reading too much into it, but the way he said it seemed like a lot more than just being polite. Or, and this is a very big possibility, it’s been way too long since you’ve let anyone take you to bed and you’re latching onto the first man who looks your way.

You try to distract your brain with the old lady in front of you instead, who’s been chatting you up about her four cats for over fifteen minutes. She’s surprisingly nice but you think you’d be enjoying her chatter a lot more if your mind wasn’t so distracted.

She notices as much. “You doin’ alright there, sweetheart?”

You brush it off as best as you can. “Oh, I'm alright. I just think the trip and the unpacking is finally catching up to me.” You stand up from the lawn chair you’d been lounging on. “I’ll go grab myself a drink, can I grab you anything?”

She smiles sweetly up at you and replies “No, sweetness, you go ahead.”

The chatter outside dulls out as you close the glass doors behind you. You don’t bother turning on the kitchen overhead lights, relying only on light seeping in from the back yard.

The chill from the fridge hits your chest as you crack the door open to grab a can of coke. Just as you pop the tab, a shadow leaning against the door frame makes you jump.

“Jesus, give a girl a warning.” you say bringing your hand to your chest trying to slow your heartbeat back down.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you.” Joel's voice comes from the shadow

Darlin’ ? Lord, were you screwed.

You hoped the dim lighting was doing enough to hide the burning red that was probably staining your cheeks already, especially since Joel was pushing off of the door frame and walking over to you.

“Needed a break from the crowd too?” you ask softly, cutting through the quiet.

The corner of his lips curves up in one of his killer smirks and you can already tell that’s gonna be one of your favorite things about him. “You readin’ me like a book.”

You give him a tiny smile and take a sip of your Coke, the cold liquid a welcome distraction. “I thought you’d be manning the grill.”

He grumbles softly, the sound reverberating in his chest. “Hank’s got it covered for now. Figured I’d come check on you.”

You look up at him confused. “Check on me? Why?”

He shrugged, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright. This can’t be easy, coming back after all this time.”

More than the charming smirks or the pet names or the indecipherable jabs, this knocked the air out of your chest. You were so used to everyone telling you how lucky you were, how wonderful your parents were and how great it was they could put you through college, how perfect of a life you had and how easy it seemed for you to deal with it all. You get it, that’s how it looked from the outside and you didn’t blame people for thinking that. But the truth was you had just become shockingly skilled at hiding your struggles, pretending you had everything under control and plastering a big, dazzling smile on your face.

Somehow, in the few hours that Joel has been around you, at least in this past decade, he managed to see right through this smoke screen you’ve been building your entire life to keep people from seeing what’s going on inside.

It leaves you speechless for a second. “Oh, um…” you can’t take your eyes off of him now, far too unconcerned to notice if you’re staring. “It’s been… exhausting and a bit hectic but, you know... I’m alright. Thank you for asking, Joel.” His name slips out of your lips so easily, like you could picture yourself saying it over and over again without ever burning out.

He looks down, almost like he isn’t used to doing this either, like he’s searching for something else to say. Then his hoarse voice breaks through the silence “Well, if you’re not, you know where to find me.”

With one last glance, a lingering one at that, Joel turns back and leaves where he came from. Like he didn’t just tip your entire world out of balance.

And you’re left there in the dark, trying to figure out what the hell this feeling on your chest is and why, on god's green earth, your father’s best friend won’t leave your head.

#joel miller #joel x reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #tlou #tlou joel #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #Hidden embers

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mesetacadre · 2 months ago

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The Soviet Revolution of October 1934

The Second Spanish Republic is a figure in history which tends to be overly glorified by the contemporary Spanish left, including some excessively folklorist communists, as a desire to look through history for any instance when opposition to the monarchy and reactionaries was the hegemonic position. After 40 years of a fascist dictatorship, and 46 years of a liberal democracy that has exposed social-democracy's bankruptcy, the Second Republic is a time when the PCE (Communist Party of Spain) was a force to be reckoned with, at least compared to today, with a few hundred thousands along its lines. Despite the Second Republic lasting from 1931 to 1936, the aspects that tend to be glorified are the times of the Popular Front, the electoral alliance from the PSOE to the PCE that won the February 1936 elections, and ruled until the coup d'etat of July 1936. Perhaps unconsciously, perhaps consciously, the years of 1932-1935 tend to be not forgotten, but minimized.

This is because the Second Republic was not a "popular" state, it wasn't even nominally progressive for half its history. And again, in an exercise of willful ignorance, when its repressive episodes are discussed, most tend to focus on the Black Biennium, as historiography knows it, the two years (1933-1935) when the right governed under the CEDA coalition, which included falangists, monarchists, even Carlists. But the history of repression in the Second Republic begins not even a month after its constitution was ratified. The Castiblanco incidents of December 1931 saw a few day workers killed by the police during a peaceful demonstration asking for work, afterwards it turned violent and 4 policemen were lynched by the workers. That same week, in the Arnedo incidents, the 5th of January 1932, the police shot into a crowd of striking workers in the town's square, renamed recently to Republic Square. 11 people were killed, two of them a mother and his 4 year old son, another a 70 year old woman. 5 others were permanently left unable to work. Just a year later, in January of 1933, 19 men, 2 women and a child were massacred in the Casas Viejas Incident, after an attempted uprising and occupation of the police quarters.

The Second Republic was always an anti-worker state, from its very beginnings. Regardless of what its constitution said, the social advances of the republic were lubricated with worker's blood.

Let's set some context for the subject of this post: The PCE, section of the Third International, found itself at risk of dissappearence at the end of the 1923-1930 dictatorship. It only really began to recover after José Diaz was elected General Secretary in 1932, it had about 1.000 members at this time, and by 1934 it had risen to 15.000 members, without counting the members of its youth wing. Internationally, the meteoric rise of fascism was unignorable. Nazi-fascism and fascism had seized power in Germany and Italy, and similar tendencies in Portugal and Austria were also in power, in the form of Salazar's Estado Novo in the former and Dollfuß' austrofascism in the latter, himself killed by outright nazi-fascists. Spain had its supposedly progressive Republic, of course, but it did not prevent the JONS to be founded in 1931 and the Falange in 1932, which during the civil war would merge into the infamous FE de las JONS, the Spanish Falange of the National-Syndicalist Offensive Juntas (The Falange is still a legal party now!). The leader of the CEDA, which would later govern during that Black Biennium I mentioned earlier, attended the Nürnberg Congess of 1932, where the pictures of those massive nazi-fascist rallies come from.

The 4th of October, 1934, 3 CEDA ministers had been chosen to enter the government, and in response, a strike, called the Revolutionary General Strike, was called for the following day, the 5th of October, 90 years ago today. The organization of this strike was done between the PCE, CNT (national confederation of workers, an anarcho-syndicalist union) and PSOE. The will to call the strike was not equal, however. The meeting minutes of the evening and night of the 4th show that the CNT was not very convinced of the strike and flip-flopped a lot, while the PSOE only decided to support the strike once it became impossible for them not to. The PCE, on the other hand, had already spent a few months warning of this, and preparing.

Barely a month before October, the police found a shipment of weapons going from the port of Gijón to Mieres, the future epicenter of the revolution. There were three armed shipments, and while the other two reached their destination, the third one being found almost lead to Indalecio Prieto, of the PSOE, being arrested. As a result, the weapon stashes in various places in Madrid (Casa del Pueblo, Ciudad Universitaria, Cuatro Caminos). These weapon stashes were supposed to supply the revolutionary strike in Madrid, and since they were found, the nascent revolutionary center was stillborn, since it was unable to arm itself. These same weapon stashes would later be replenished and used by the first militias of Madrid in the July 1936 coup d'etat

Nevertheless, the call for a strike was distributed at 6:00 of the 5th, but it was only heeded in Asturias, Madrid, Vizcaya, Cataluña, plus a few weak points (Cantabria, Aragón, Alicante, León, Palencia, Málaga). The reason the call was not heeded in broader parts of the country was because the agricultural day workers, predominant throughout the central meseta and south had already carried out their own strike that same year. They were recovering, they feared the repression that was still fresh in their minds, and it did not help that the predominant political organization among them, the CNT, took too long to support the strike, they simply were not prepared. It is impossible to understate how crucial this point is. The greatest worker strata in Spain were unable to be reached by the call to a revolutionary strike, for reasons related to the situation, but because of the inability of the PCE of this time to truly penetrate the social majority.

At any rate, the Revolutionary General Strike was not ignored everywhere, from these days comes this picture of Madrid's very center devoid of people, withholding their work, but impotent to do anything more:

The Second Republic did not hesitate to stifle this strike, using planes and naval and land artillery. Once again, Spanish capital required trails of this country's reddest blood to line the streets, not shying away from employing the help of fascists such as the up-and-coming General Franco, sent to repress the workers of Asturias, where the strike was incandescent with revolutionary impetus. Before talking about Asturias, I won't ignore the other places where the strike was also popular. In Guipúzcoa and Vizcaya, The Basque Country, repression was just as bloody, executed by the Guardias de Asalto (Assault Guards), killing 40 workers in Vizcaya. There, the "Revolutionary Committee of Vizcaya", led by the UGT, was quickly dissolved. In Cataluña, a Catalan state was quickly declared, lead by the bourgeois Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya (Catalonian Republican Left), but was just as quickly put down with another 40 dead.

Asturias is another story, one that lasted for two weeks. It isn't much, but in those two weeks, the Spanish proletariat came the closest to holding political power, closer than any other time in its history. There, the strike did have a pre-existing entity capable of organizing the strike: the Worker and Peasant Alliance formed the 1st of April of that year, an armed force influenced by UGT, CNT (only present in the Asturias alliance), the Asturian Socialist Federation, and the PCE, whose militants often represented the most advanced elements of these alliances, but simultaneously relatively few. These alliances were heavily inspired by the Soviets, and often talked about the Sovietization of industry and of opposing colonialism. While this is evidence that it really was an attempted revolution, and that they were inspired by the Bolshevik revolution, their attempt to imitate the USSR's Soviets instead of learning from them was one of the many factors that provoked its defeat. Despite the name, the Worker and Peasant alliances were never as strong among peasants, not a lot of effort was put into it.

Another organization that was relevant during the October Revolutionary Strike were the Workers and Peasant's Antifascist Militias (MAOC in Spanish), a paramilitary militia, founded by Antonio Modesto, a member of the PCE educated in the USSR, he'd later become famous within the republican side of the Civil war. These militias were few but competent, they counted 150 members in Madrid and Asturias each, and while the Asturias militias participated in the revolution, the ones in Madrid sabotaged the roads and railways leading north, to avoid reinforcements getting to Asturias. These militias would later be the base from which the Fifth Regiment was created, in July 1936, to commence the defense of Madrid from the coup d'etat and fascist assault.

In Asturias itself, the proletariat lunged forwards as fast as it could, growing from the town of Mieres and the Nalón basin, to every other mining basin, taking the cities of Oviedo and Gijón by force. The National Guard's many stations were occupied and raided for arms and ammunition, they already had access to explosives from mining equipment. At one point, they felt strong enough to consider a march on Madrid, and even proclaimed the Asturian Socialist Republic. In what sometimes was called the Asturian Commune, a reference to the Paris Commune of 1871, production was controlled by workers, protected by a combatant force of up to 30.000 strong. Production in the metallurgical and mining industry was organized through attempts at imitation of the Soviets, as I mentioned. The Asturias branch of the Central Bank of Spain was expropriated as well, substituting money for a system based on coupon-like vouchers. However, the Revolutionary Committee leading the revolution was dissolved and reformed 2 times in those weeks, without counting the third dissolution that came with capitulation, although that committee did begin to plan the region's economy, the short span of time not really being enough to judge its efficiency.

The revolutionaries' retreat only began once the Republican government, as anti-worker as ever, followed the advice of generals Franco and Godet to deploy the Tercios de Regulares and the African Legion, two battle-hardened groups of the military not afraid to be brutal against the workers. While they advanced, for instance, they executed every wounded solider or civilian found in captured hospitals. In Asturias, more than a thousand workers were killed in combat or executed, and in total throughout Spain, the strike concluded with 2.000 dead, 7.000 wounded, and 40.000 imprisoned, for the crime and sin of daring to govern oneself and to end the exploitation of man by man. One of these dead workers stands out among the rest in popular culture nowadays, a member of the PCE's youth wing: Aida de la Fuente. She was only 19 when she joined the revolution in motion, the daughter of the PCE's founder in Oviedo, and she was known to be an exceptionally brave and dedicated communist. The 13th of October, a few hours after being seen distributing leaflets to civilians urging them to join the revolution, she found herself almost alone in Oviedo, trying to hold off the Legion's advance by manning a machine gun, and she managed to do so for a few hours. She was reached nevertheless and when a Legion commander asked her to surrender, she only responded by shooting back. Seconds later she was killed, and later found in a common grave. The counter-revolutionary press attempted to paint her murder as one committed by her own comrades, even claiming rape, but this was disproved by a journalist who risked his own life, and the testimony of the very legionary who executed Asturias' reddest rose.

The Asturias revolution was, for all its merits and promise, a stillborn revolution. The Communist Party did not have effective direction over the mass of proletarians involved in the revolution, let alone the even greater mass who, for one reason or another, did not meet the conditions necessary for attempting to seize power. The strike's organization was insufficient and thwarted in part, and militarily, the objective Indalecio Prieto was tasked with of securing support among the military officials, along with the general inferiority of the Asturian revolutionaries compared with the elite bodies of the military, meant there was no realistic chance of success. The strike was not even fully effective within Asturias, for instance, the livestock peasants known as vaqueiros, of the southwest, did not ever really have their influence. The PSOE militants who did exist in the region got into trucks and left for Oviedo, while a column of revolutionaries from León, the other side of the mountain range, tried to take Cangas del Narcea, the main town of the region, but they were routed by the National Guard.

After the defeat, 121 revolutionaries exiled themselves to the USSR, mostly communists but also accompanied by a handful of anarchists. There, they received education as cadres, who later returned to Spain before and during the civil war, providing invaluable expertise. Others chose to exile in Portugal or France, but both those countries repatriated them to be imprisoned in Spain.

During the negotiations between the Popular Front and the PCE for the 1936 elections, the main requisite they demanded in order to join was the amnisty of these tens of thousands of imprisoned workers, from the October Revolution and from the myriad of episodes of repression during the Black Biennium. To achieve this amnisty, they were also helped by International Red Aid, a political Red Cross founded by the International in 1922. They, along with the PCE, also provided a pension for the families of the many imprisoned. During the civil war, the Red Aid played an important role in the republican side's medical centers.

This episode is often forgotten when talking about the civil war, but it was one of the many reasons fascists were allowed to take power. Spain's risk of sovietization was an internationally recognized risk, so when the opportunity came, Spanish, English, French, and US capital very gladly did everything they could to hamper the Republic

The lesson from the October Revolution of 1934 is clear. Without country-wide preparation, without a proper analysis of your own conditions, and without achieving social alliances, any revolutionary struggle is bound to fail. The lack of support in the much greater agricultural areas, the rushed planning and failed planning everywhere but Asturias, partially, the PCE's still weak influence in most organizations or regions, all of this meant that, whatever the Spanish proletariat learnt in that Revolutionary General Strike, was bound to be written in sweat and blood. The point of commemorating this bittersweet memory is not to dwell on what could have been, nor to recreate the MAOCs. It's to remember that a revolution is always a couple of bad decades away, and that not building consciousness and preparing structures for it will only mean more unnecessarily murdered workers. It's to ensure that, next time red October is around the corner, it will not be premature. The strength of the working class, our class, the social majority, lies not in the number of victories and defeats, but in the very fact of our fight, explicit and implicit. It lies in the fact that, for as long as classes based on exploitation exist, class conflict is unavoidable.

Many political forces nowadays, which one might call opportunist, will try to draw parallels between that autumn of 1934 and today, exhorting "unity of the left". The only unity that's truly revolutionary, the only unity that will not cause the subordination of our class interests to electoral or immediatist growth objectives, is the unity of the entire working class under a single Communist Party. The PSOE, even with its very involved marxist wing, characterized by the likes of Largo Caballero or Indalecio Prieto, only ever concieved of the Revolutionary General Strike as a means to the end of preventing those CEDA ministers from being appointed and in turn, gain more electoral and institutional strength. They also happened to be a relevant force because of their sheer number of members.

#seriousposting

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treesbian · 21 days ago

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my friends yousef and mona (vetted) are fundraising using swedish krona. it's a weak currency, 10kr is only 94 cents in usd. but, there's a benefit in that there fundraiser doesn't have a $5 minimum!! maybe if everyone that sees this post can send 11kr (that's $1.02), we can help their campaign grow more quickly! i have seen a 5kr donation on this fundraiser, do you know how much that is? it is 46 cents. if the obstacle keeping you from donating was that you couldn't afford the minimum donation, that obstacle doesn't exist in their campaign. but please, it can't be only a few people. if you have a dollar to give, then give it. most of you should have at least that much. you can do something. don't be a bystander, please.

they really need it, mona just got out of lung surgery, and they have a one year old baby to take care of, and they need to treat his skin infection. if enough people give a single dollar, i really do think we can make more progress in their campaign. i really really hope this works, please help it to. you can do something. you are not helpless.

#talk tag #polls

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conkreetmonkey · 2 months ago

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So Jack Marston was 4 in 1899. He was 19 in 1914. This has some truly crazy implications about the time periods Jack could reasonably live to see. Despite the low likelihood of it given his lifestyle, let's assume he lives to die of old age.

(it's a long one under the cut)

Jack Marston would be 25 in 1920, meaning he would be in the prime of his life during the roaring twenties. He would be 34 on Black Tuesday in 1929, and live through the Great Depression, coming out the other side at 46 years old.

He would live through both world wars, so if we're assuming he's somehow cleaned up his name and is no longer n outlaw, perhaps existing under another identity, he would be drafted into at least one world war, as he would live through both WWI and WWII. Let's assume he either dodges the draft or survives the battlefield; likely the former, as he'd still hate the federal government with a burning passion, and is no stranger to evading their grasp.

When WWII ended in 1945, Jack would have been about 50. He'd have seen both gunslingers and nukes in his lifetime. He'd have watched horses be replaced by cars, and airplanes become a mainstream technology.

Jack Marston would be 55-65 in the 1950s. He'd witness the development and popularization of plastic, TVs pop up in every home, and hyperconsumerism become the norm as wrinkles set in and his hair started falling out. At this point, especially for the time, he'd truly be getting old. Maybe he'd have kids, or even grandkids by thus point. Would he be happy, having experienced the best and worst of America? He was probably too old to serve in Vietnam; there's no way he wouldn't have some sort of disability by this point.

Jack Marston would be 75 in 1970. At this point, death of old age becomes exponentially more likely with every passing year, but let's be hyper-optimistic just to push this to its limits. Jack would witness hippies. Would he like or dislike them, these men who despise the government-mandated bloodshed he'd lived through, yet resisted through bright colours, bongoes and weed?

Old Man Marston, if still kicking, would be 85 in 1980. Probably going senile by this point, but if still mentally sharp and with nimble enough fingers, Jack could have played Donkey Kong at 86. He could have set foot in an arcade, assuming he can still walk.

Now, as egregiously unlikely as it is, let's assume Jack lives to 100. An obscenely old age, especially given all the things he's lived through. The stress, the bullets, the cigarette smoke and lead paint... let's assume his body remains functional despite it all, some defiant force deep in his soul refusing to let him die.

If he lived to 100, Jack would have died in 1995.

Think about how insane that would be. A man raised by the last remnants of the wild west, fading out as the internet begins. He'd have seen the moon landing, and eaten at McDonald's.

Six more years, and he would have witnessed 9/11.

Jack's great grandchildren, assuming he and every child afterwards reproduced at age 30, would have been about 10 in '95. They'd have been millennials. They'd be 35 during the beginning of the Covid lockdowns. They'd be alive today, and remember their great grandfather. Perhaps they inherited a few hats and antique guns. Perhaps they now live in sprawling urban environments like Saint Denis or Blackwater, watching electronic billboards and anti-homeless architecture go up, rent go up 20% per year, and a sandwich go from $5 to $15. Maybe they'd watch Jack's now-senile firstborn lose money that used to, long ago, belong to the Van Der Linde Gang, falling for a Nigerian prince or Google gift card scam.

Or maybe Jack Marston's kid(s) died to Covid. It's entirely possible, nay plausible given the timeline as it exists. Jack was one generation away from possibly living to read Homestuck or watch Space Jam in the old folks home.

What do you think Arthur, John and Jack would think if there was an afterlife, looking down upon what America had become in 12 short decades? Would they relate to John's great-great-grandchildren, to living in a time and place that doesn't want you? To the impossibility of making an honest living, of escaping America's newest model of the Orphan Crushing Machine? Would they see Dutch echoed in Trump, Cornwall in Bezos or Musk? An empire they watched grow up begin to slow down from age, never ceasing in its quest to ruin as many lives as possible?

How would they feel, watching Jack's 9 year old great-great-grandchild, still bearing the Marston name, do active shooter drills in her classroom as the air turned to poison and the summer to a kiln? As men like Dutch prod her along into a life of miserable servitude to a gang of thieves, elevated to untouchable American royalty with Pinkertons and the law as their knights?

Personally, I think they'd be quite upset.

#rdr #rdr2 #jack marston #john marston #red dead #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption two

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woman-of-many-fandoms · 4 months ago

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The thing that is kind of hilarious in Wrath of Khan is how Kirk is having a mid life crisis when people live to 120. Like I get this was made in a time when 50 was old but I did that math. 50 is roughly 46 percent of 120 so if you use current life spans, that's like a 35 year old today feeling old and washed up.

#star trek #jim kirk #star trek tos #the wrath of khan #star trek wrath of khan #tos kirk #james t kirk #captain kirk #star trek the original series

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laviefantasie · 4 months ago

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“Just A Girl” : 01

“ GOJO SATORU X PRESIDENT’S DAUGHTER READER ”

SYNOPSIS: After insisting so much, you’re finally given the opportunity to attend college away from home and feel like a normal girl. It is there that you meet Gojo Satoru, another undergraduate student, and for the first time in your life are shown what having a true connection feels like. Or at least that’s what you think…

SERIES MASTERLIST

| next >

I never thought my life was anything but ordinary. Never did I ever think it was weird that most of my birthday parties were mostly full of adults, nor did I question why unless I was at a tea party organized by one of my mother’s friends my friends were mostly my stuff animals

It was what I had always known as a child. Even as a teenager my world were only my parents, my teacher, my nanny, and the staff that constantly followed me around.

What I never got used to? The flashes.

I roll my eyes and turn off the TV abruptly, throwing myself backwards in my king bed. Another day, another news reporter judging my image. Tale as old as time.

Grabbing the nearest pillow, I cover my face and scream.

“Miss,” a knock on the door makes me stop self- pitying, “your breakfast is served”

Inhaling, I stand up and grab my phone from my nightstand before leaving my bedroom. Outside stood Yuki Tsukumo, father’s trusting secretary that has also worked as a bridge for us whenever we are president and first daughter instead of father and daughter.

“Not ready for the day yet?”

“It’s 5:26 in the morning” I smile softly, “I’m just in time for breakfast from 5:30 to 5:50, digesting from 5:50 to 6:00, running from 6:00 to 6:30, and then showering before the real schedule begins”

“That’s my girl” smiles Yuki.

As soon as we arrive at the dining room I sit down besides my father, whose already reading through the notes sent to his iPad. My mother at his other side is reviewing her schedule for the day.

Another normal day for the Y/L/N family.

“Good morning, mom, dad”

“Morning pumpkin” smiles my father, turning off his iPad, “Ready for today?”

I nod smiling before taking a bite of the waffle in front of me. What was in schedule for today anyways?

My mom laughs softly before snapping her fingers, which makes Yuki leave my own iPad beside my plate of food. Schedule for the day already opened.

Fitting at 7:30: Alexander McQueen

Family interview at 9:00

Father’s speech at 10:00

Lunch with the vice president’s family at 12:00…

A sigh escaped my lips as I keep on reading the never ending list of things to do for the day. Most of which consisted of me smiling perfectly for pictures without moving a muscle, or speaking for the matter.

No surprise there. This had been my life the last four years and even before that, it had been all I’ve known.

The price to pay for having parents in politics.

“Do we really have to have lunch with the Zenin’s?” You groan.

Your father sighs, “They may not be the best company, but the matriarch is the best vice president I could’ve wished for. So, yes, we have to”

Your father was right and you knew that. Mrs. Zenin was probably the only good thing of that family that had only been known for corruption. She turned it all around, she even went against their sexist claims and became the matriarch.

She was someone to look up to. Her son though? Not so much. He was 100% his father, maybe only getting his mother’s looks.

“It’s the time for appearances, honey” your mother reminds you, “Reelections are soon. Once that’s over things will go back to normal”

Normal, you sigh.

Normal means new schedules to be followed to build your image. Normal means attending different events and parties according to convenience.

Normal means not normal at all.

“Miss Y/L/N” Yuki calls.

You turn to ask hear her only to see her pointing at her watch. You look at your iPad to see the time.

5:46 a.m.

You curse in your head realizing you had only four minutes to finish your still full plate of food, that if you wanted to stay on time. Which you had to.

Sighing, you clean your mouth before excusing yourself from the table.

Just four more days, you remind yourself, four more days and your new life starts. With that thought a smile graces your features and you run upstairs to start the rest of your day.

⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊

You sighed for the millionth time as you say on your bed, ordered to sit still and watch as your staff packed your belongings. One of the fantasies you had when imagining the start of your normal life was packing by yourself.

I guess that was too greedy of you.

A knock on your door snaps you out of your boredom, your father soon entering making a smile grow on your face.

“Dad!”

You run towards your father and hug him, feeling a warm envelop your chest as you feel him kiss the top of your head.

“Ready for the big day?”

“Oh, God, please don’t” you groan, “I’m starting at Magus Pugnate University tomorrow like a normal girl. Which means no grand parade!”

Your father sighs, “Do you know your mom, honey? Impossible. It’s go big or go home”

You groan out loud making your father laugh and his hold on you tighten.

“I swear I’ll scream if they play ‘Hail to the Chief’, dad” he laughs.

“Come on, let’s go” he starts guiding me to the Oval Office, “Tomorrow is a big day. Law school isn’t easy, munchkin”

“I’m ready” you assure him.

He smile, proud, “I know”

“There you are! Finally”

You both turn with guilty looks towards your mother, in her all First Lady glory, as she glares at you both.

“We don’t have all day, i thought you knew that already” she shakes her head, “Yuki start with the itinerary”

Yuki nods, smiling softly towards you before starting to list the absolutely ridiculous schedule that you had ahead of you—flying on Air Force 1, driving up to Magus Pugnate University where a parade would lead all of you to a quad for a press conference, and then, dropping you off in your university’s private dorm suite after securing it.

You were slightly annoyed as you listened. You dreamt of getting on a commercial flight and driving yourself to university where you’d settle in your dorm with a roommate as normal people do.

But you weren’t normal, and lately that was a really tough pill to swallow.

“They won't ask you about policy. They'll probably ask you about…” you zone out, “…Yaga will accompany you there to make sure everything is secured before leaving you with Sukuna, Higuruma, Nanami and Nitta with you at all times”

“W-wait, what?” You stuttered, “Not only is the Head of Security going but also the four of them? With me? And what you mean at all times? You mean the four of them?”

Your father nods, “Of course, as usual”

“Usual is me going out to events or public spaces” you continue, “I’m going to university, a private one even. A university that is very strict on who they accept. Why do I need that many security?”

“Because you’re my daughter”

That sentence is meat to make you understand. That sentence is enough for him to consider the conversation over and continue with the next subject.

The heavy weight that being the First Daughter carries is one that makes you shake under it, hoping soon you’ll crumble.

Inhale, exhale, you remind yourself.

You’re going to university. For the first time in forever you’re doing something you want. Take it a step at a time.

That night, you tiptoe all through the White House until you make it to the main kitchen. There you open the fridge and get out the Blueberry Cheesecake the Head Chef had made. With no hesitation you grab two plates, cut two pieces and serve them, before grabbing two forks.

Grabbing one of the cakes, you start eating. Moaning in delight at the flavor.

“Ugh, I lost?” You hear your father groan behind you.

“Not blaming you, mom is hard to trick”

“She’d have my head for sure if she saw us right now” he grabs his own cake and takes a bite, “totally worth it though”

“Who would’ve thought Mr. President’s weakness would be Blueberry Cheesecake?” You gasp with humor, “Have I uncovered one of the country’s top secrets?!”

You father laughs with a roll of his eyes, taking another bite off his cake.

“Excited for tomorrow?”

You nod while eating, “I really hope it all goes well”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

You play around with the piece of cheesecake you had cut, debating whether you should voice your feelings or not.

“It’s just… I’m the First Daughter, you know?” You sigh, “Loved by many, hated by many more. Hard to approach, yet never ignored. I’m anxious to see how that’ll work out at university”

“You’ll be fine”

“I know… I hope” you sigh again, “I just really want it to be fun. I want to make friend who like me for me. I want to go out, maybe drink—”

“Excuse me?!”

You laugh, “Kidding. I just want to feel like a teenager for once”

“You will, sweetheart” he kisses the top of your head lovingly, hugging you from your side, “I promise you will”

You wanted to believe he was right. You hoped he was.

⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊

“So, remember, you're just like any other American family. Whose daughter is heading off to college” you repeat again inside the limo, “Remember, today you're not just the First Lady, but you're also a mom”

Your mom frowns slightly, “I'd like to think I'm both women every day”

You sigh, “In short, you're just a proud dad. Like every other dad…watching his little girl head off to University in another state”

Your father groans, “Ugh, don’t remind me. Why did you have to choose somewhere so far away?”

“The distance did influence my decision” you accept, “But MPU is the University for law”

Your father opens his mouth to possibly fight your argument, but the limo stops and soon enough Hail to the Chief starts being played by the band.

“Show time” you mutter to yourself.

Soon enough you’re being blinded by flashes as questions are being screamed at your family.

“Mr. President, how do you feel about your only child going to school so far away?” One says.

“Well, I’m suggesting moving the nation’s capitol”

Your father’s joke makes all of them laugh, even bringing a sincere smile to your face.

“Y/N, will you miss the capital?” Another asks, “Better yet, what will you miss the least?”

Your practices polite smile is once again on.

“Uh, tough question” you laugh politely, “Not sure on what I would miss least, so I can’t answer that… but I can answer what I’ll miss the most: my friends and family. But I’m very excited to experience life as everybody else, and have the famous college experience I’ve read so much about”

Thankfully soon after that the interviews are over and your family is being guided to the place you’ll be staying.

“Nitta is at the end of the hall, Higuruma in the middle, and Sukuna and Nanami will stay at your door” Yuki explains.

It’s the third time she’s said it in the last ten minutes since you’ve arrived.

You roll your eyes and focus once again on looking over your private suite. It was stunning. Big enough for one person, already with all the furniture one may need (although that probably was Yuki’s doing since it was decorated just as you’d wish for).

“Shining Star on site” you hear Nanami murmur into his microphone yet decide to ignore it.

“Not to late to turn back” you mother reminds you softly.

“I love it” you smile, “I’m so excited! Have any of the neighbors arrived?”

“Who are the neighbors?” Your father asks.

“Ieiri Shoko across, Geto Suguru at the end, and Gojo Satoru across from him” Nanami answers, “Miss Ieri is a senior in Psychology, parents still together and strong supporters in the polls; Geto Suguru senior in Law, divorced parents who also are strong supporters, childhood friend with Gojo Satoru who is also a senior in Law. Widowed mother, well-known law firm soon-to-be heir. All of them have been born and raised here, went to the same high school together”

Your eyes widen at the amount of information given. You feel slightly uncomfortable at knowing so much from the people sharing floor with you when they don’t even know you’re here yet.

“Have they arrived yet?”

“All of them have already settled down and are currently eating at the cafeteria across the street” Nanami continues checking his phone, “E.T.A. is 15 minutes”

Okay, scratch slightly uncomfortable, this was an invasion of privacy! It’s illegal!

Well, it was information given to the president…

You shake your head, deciding to focus on anything other than the guilt swallowing you whole.

“Did you check your itinerary with Yuki?”

You frown, “why?”

“Well, there are just a few small functions…”, your mother starts, “your father and I thought you might enjoy attending”

“Uh… do I have a choice?” Your parents shake their head, “Great”

Yaga comes inside, signaling to your parents that it’s time to leave.

“Already?” You ask with a slight pout.

“As if you aren’t dying to see us get out of here” your father jokes.

“Well, the President and the First Lady, totally” you nod, “Mom and dad? Not at all”

With teary eyes your mom holds your hand, guiding you outside your building where the cars are waiting for them to escort them.

You were really doing this, you were really leaving your perfect life behind and achieving one of your dreams. You’d have a normal experience just like everybody else.

“Okay” you mom takes a deep breath, trying to stop her tears, “Remember, a full load of laundry dries faster than half a load. Always take the stairs. Don't sweat the petty things”

“Yes, mom”

“Your father will be here all week campaigning in case…” her voice breaks “If you need anything, anything, call Yuki”

You nod softly, “I will, mom. But I’ll be okay”

Your mom hugs you tightly, letting some tears fall as she kisses your head, then letting go. Next comes your father, who holds your face in his hands softly as he stares at you as if trying to engrave your face in his memories.

“I…”

You sigh, smiling at the way your father blinks faster than normally as he tries to stop his eyes from getting teary.

“Just say you’ll miss me, dad”

“I’ll miss you, munchkin” he hugs you tightly, “As soon as elections are over, we’ll have a father-daughter day. And I mean the 24 whole hours”

“In a row?” You ask laughing.

“It’s a promise. If you dare try to reject my offer I’ll just kidnap you, I can do that” you laugh at his words, “Be good and have fun, okay?

You nod and stay there as they get inside the limo. Drying the tears that had fallen from your eyes as you watch them go.

“Are you guys gonna at least talk to me?” You ask them once you start making your way back inside, “I mean, since you’ll be following 24/7”

Sukuna stays quiet, barely even reacting to your voice, while Nanamo gives you a small nod of acknowledgment with what appears to be a fond look.

“Maybe as a thank you for not choosing to major in something like premed”

You let out a laugh as you arrive to the floor of your studio, although your laugh fades as your eyes connect to the prettiest shade of blue you’d ever seen at the end of the hall.

TAG LIST: @aishies-stuff @kouyoumarryme @mikyapixie @simbaaas-stuff @ichikanu

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x oc #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen

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queenshelby · 6 months ago

Text

An Illicit Affair

Part 42: Big News

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Life, however, had other plans for you and it was a Monday afternoon, exactly four days before your trip to Los Angeles, that you received some life changing news.

You had just finished yet another treatment session with your therapist who informed you that you were ready to walk unaided again, albeit slowly. No high heels and no strenuous activities for at least another week, but progress, nonetheless.

Exiting the therapy room with a smile on your face, life seemed to be looking up and, without your crutches, you made your way to the day-clinic adjacent to the therapy canter on campus to see your friend Lucy.

You had been catching up with her every week for a coffee, following your sessions, but today, you were actually meeting her for something else. You had a medical appointment with her that day to get back on track with your general health.

Since the accident, you had been neglecting your iron levels for which, until then, you had been taking tablets every day. On top of that, you needed and wanted to get back on to some form of birth control, sensing Cillian's growing frustration of having to pull out whenever you were intimate with one another.

As a medical student yourself, you knew that this wasn't even an appropriate method of preventing pregnancy and whilst Cillian had fantastic self-control, you knew not to push your luck.

Having children was not on your radar right now. Your life was way too complicated to start a family , and there were still so many things you wanted to do and achieve. However, the idea of growing old with Cillian was a comforting thought, and the possibility of having a child together one day was not entirely off the table. One day, in about five years or so, this would be a possibility.

As you walked in the day-clinic, there was a line of people waiting to check-in and the atmosphere buzzed with activity as nurses hurriedly called out names and directed patients to the correct rooms.

Seating arrangements were limited, but there was a spare seat available by the window, not far from Lucy's consultancy room.

Fellow students and nurses you knew quickly came to greet you, some even lingering a moment longer just to ask about your recovery, expressing their concerns and support. You exchanged pleasantries and politely nodded along as they peppered you with questions you had grown accustomed to answering.

Finally, catching sight of your best friend Lucy, you greeted her excitedly and she quickly asked one of the nurses for your file before calling you into her consultancy room.

She gave you a warm hug as always before asking you to follow her.

"How is the treatment going, babe? I can see the crutches are gone!" exclaimed Lucy, a wide smile spreading across her face as she stepped back from the doorway.

"It's going good, and I won't be needing the crutches for the Academy Awards it seems," you told her , returning her smile with a bright one of your own.

"That's fantastic news, Y/N! I'm so fucking proud of you," Lucy said, beaming at you while she opened the medical cabinet and retrieved a few ampules and a syringe.

"And how is Cillian? Is he getting nervous yet?" Lucy asked as you sat next to her on an exam table in her consultation room.

"Oh, he's a mess. But he won't admit it," you replied, chuckling softly. "He's definitely nervous and hopeful," you continued, your tone sincere and genuine. "But I know he is going to win that Oscar. He has to win," you said emphatically, your voice filled with confidence and conviction.

Lucy nodded her head in agreement. "He's a shoo-in for the award this year. It's about damn time!" she exclaimed with a grin, injecting some humor into the situation.

You chuckled, still amazed by how different your life had become in just a few short months. "It still feels surreal to me. Like it hasn't fully sunk in yet," you continued, running your fingers along the barrel of the ampule Lucy had placed next to you before taking a deep breath and rolling up your sleeve. "You know, he asked me to move to the suburbs with him?" you said, smiling slightly as you looked up at Lucy, your eyes sparkling with hope and excitement.

Lucy's face lit up with surprise and excitement. "Oh my god, Y/N, that's amazing news! Are you going to do it?"

You nodded your head, your smile widening. "Yes. I mean, I love him and I think that I want to build a life with him. And I'm excited to see where that takes us," you answered Lucy enthusiastically, feeling your heart race at the thought of building a life with Cillian.

"That's fantastic, Y/N! I'm so happy for you," Lucy beamed, before moving on to discuss your medical issues. You went over your iron levels and Lucy took a few blood tests for you to be sent to the lab.

"We should have them back in a few days but you already know that, don't you?" she chuckled as she labelled the blood vials and placed them in the appropriate container.

"Yeah, I do," you replied, still grinning from ear to ear. "I actually can't wait to come back to work either, which will happen a week or so after we come back from LA," you exclaimed while Lucy examined your files.

"So, birth control was another thing you wanted to get sorted, right?" Lucy then asked with a smile and you nodded.

"Yeah, I was thinking the depo shot," you said, knowing that it was a reliable and convenient method.

"That's a practical choice, but what have you been using until now? There aren't any prescriptions on your file since the accident," Lucy inquired, her brows furrowed in concern as she flipped through your medical file.

You looked away, feeling a little embarrassed at the truth you were about to reveal.

"We have been using anything, just self-control measures really," you stammered out, cheeks heating as you avoided Lucy's gaze.

"Really Y/N?" Lucy laughed out loud. "Because, as a med student yourself, you should know better than that," she chided, but there was a playful tone in her voice.

"I know, I know and that's why I am here," you admitted, blushing at your previous response. "I just... things have been hectic and whilst we didn't have any accidents yet, I don't really want to push my luck," you confessed, feeling a surge of embarrassment at being so open about your sex life with Lucy, but knowing that she was your best friend and would always have your back.

Lucy let out a chuckle, understanding your predicament. "Go and pee in the cup then while I get the depo shot ready," she chuckled, handing you a sample cup and gesturing towards the bathroom.

"Why do you need a urine sample?" you asked , confusion flooding your visage as you walked towards the bathroom door.

"Well, before I give you the shot, I just want to rule out that you are not, -" Lucy began to say but you interrupted her.

"I am not pregnant, Lu!" you interrupted her, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "We have been careful, I promise," you explained, feeling slightly annoyed at the implication that you wouldn't know if you were pregnant or not.

Lucy held her hands up in a defensive gesture. "I know that, Y/N. But this is the protocol now, and it's better to rule out any possibilities," she told you, her voice gentle as she smiled reassuringly.

"Now hurry up and give me the sample," she said, her tone light and playful.

You rolled your eyes again, chuckling to yourself, but you did as she asked and grabbed a clean urine container from the rack.

You knew that she was just doing her job and were aware of some rare cases where women fell pregnant from intercourse even where their partner did not finish inside. It was uncommon, but not impossible.

Upon returning to the examination room and handing the sample to Lucy, she nodded and took the container from you. "Thanks, babe," she said, her voice warm and understanding.

She then put on some gloves and opened the container to check the sample, dipping a dip-stick into it, before turning to you again.

"Now tell me, have you found a house yet?" she asked as she began to prepare the injection.

"We have been looking at a few houses actually, yes," you replied, your voice filled with excitement. "It's a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but also really exciting," you continued, relishing in the thought of starting this new chapter in your life with Cillian.

"I bet it is!" Lucy exclaimed before turning back to the sample while you kept on talking about the house-hunting experience.

"There is one place, though, that I think we both really like, but god I think it is way too expensive," you said with a chuckle while Lucy turned silent and pale.

"Uh-huh," she simply murmured before putting another dip -stick into the sample.

"What, Lu?" you asked, seeing how your friend had become rather quiet and when she did not immediately respond and put yet another stick into your sample, you became concerned.

"Lucy?" you probed further.

"Y/N, I, uhm," she began to say, her voice barely audible as she moved the chair next to the exam bed and sat down. There was a serious expression on her face that unnerved you, and she took a deep breath before speaking again.

"I am so sorry, I don't know how to say this but, babe, you are pregnant," Lucy blurted out, her voice trembling as she revealed the results from your urine sample.

At first, you didn't understand what Lucy had just said and then, almost instinctually, your chin dropped.

"That can't be right, Lu. We had no accidents and the chances of falling pregnant are -," you stammered, unable to finish your sentence, your mind reeling from the news.

Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. "I am sorry, babe, but I just checked three times. You are definitely pregnant," she confirmed, her voice still trembling slightly.

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. The news was too much to process, and you sat there, frozen in shock.

"No, no, no," you muttered, shaking your head as you tried to wrap your mind around the unexpected turn of events.

Lucy reached out and placed a comforting hand on your arm. "I know this isn't what you were expecting, but it's not the end of the world," she reassured you, her voice gentle. "There are options and you know that already," she said, not needing to remind you of your medical studies.

You nodded numbly, still not able to completely process the news. Your mind was racing with thoughts and questions, but none of them felt clear or rational. You simply felt overwhelmed.

"Can you give me a script for mifeprestone?" you asked Lucy, your voice almost robotic as you tried to process the news. Your mind was still reeling, and you found it hard to believe that you were actually pregnant.

Lucy nodded. "Of course, I will write it up for you, but we need to get an ultrasound first before the gynecologist on call will sign off on it," she explained, her voice soft and soothing.

"Can we do it now? I can walk over to the maternity ward," you told Lucy, trying to stay calm as the reality of the situation sank in.

"Sure, I will come with you. I am due for my break anyway," Lucy agreed, her voice still gentle as she stood up and walked over to her computer to write the prescription and necessary referrals.

As you waited for Lucy to print out the script and referrals, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. You were surprised, scared, and a little disappointed, but you also knew that you had options. And you were grateful for that.

After Lucy handed you the script, you both walked over to the maternity ward in silence. It was a short walk, but it felt like an eternity.

You kept up a brisk pace, your hand clenched tight around the prescription slip. Lucy walked alongside you, her arm linked in yours, offering comfort and support.

Inside the maternity ward, you found yourself waiting in a crowded reception area. A nursing assistant called out names, directing patients to the various stations and clinics. You glanced around, your eyes scanning the crowd, feeling both overwhelmed and self-conscious.

Minutes ticked by, and you wondered if they would need to wait much longer before someone could assist you. But then, a woman with a warm smile approached you.

"Y/N, right?" she asked, her voice friendly and welcoming and you nodded, relieved that your turn had finally come.

The nurse led you both to a private consulting room where she quickly scanned your documents and checked your vitals. After a brief discussion about your issue, she nodded sagely, understandably nodding her head at your request.

"Alright Love, jump up on the table for me. I'm just going to take a quick scan, just to confirm the dates and then we can get one of the doctors to sign off on your prescription," the woman said and it took every ounce of energy and self-restraint you could muster not to cry.

You laid down as indicated and lifted up your jumper slightly to reveal your belly as the nurse carefully applied gel to the transducer and began swirling it around, taking measurements of the embryo growing inside you.

The images she projected onto the screen hung above the bed were black and white, but to you, they seemed more vivid and impactful than any colorful picture could ever be. You could clearly see the tiny developing limbs and torso, akin to a tiny alien who had somehow managed to taken root in your womb. The movements were minute and almost imperceptible, the size scarcely larger than you had expected.

"Holy shit," you said almost as at the same time as Lucy as you realized from seeing the pictures along that you were much further along than you had anticipated.

"I am sorry to ask, but when was your last period?" the nurse inquired gently, her voice not judgmental, but full of concern, as she cleaned the transducer.

"About four months ago, before the accident," you admitted, still staring intently at the images on the screen, your mind struggling to comprehend the reality of the situation. "But when I asked the surgeon about it during one of my follow up appointments, he said that not having a period for a while was normal, especially after an accident like mine," you continued, feeling an eerie sense of confusion settle over you.

The nurse nodded understandingly. "It's true that sometimes women experience temporary amenorrhoea after a traumatic incident or surgery, but it's unusual for it to last for this long," she explained gently. "You are about 19 weeks pregnant , honey," the nurse said softly, patting your hand gently.

You felt a sudden wave of emotions overtake you, a mixture of confusion, fear and disbelief. How had this happened? You had always been so careful, taking every precaution to avoid an unplanned pregnancy, especially before the accident. And yet, here you were, sitting on a cold exam table, staring at the ultrasound images of a baby that you had never expected to have.

"Are you sure there are no mistakes?" Lucy asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she squeezed your other hand, trying to offer you comfort. "I mean, she would have been pregnant before the accident, so why wasn't it picked up then?" Lucy asked, her voice a mix of confusion and concern while the nurse called in one of the head gynecologists who, later, explained that you could have fallen pregnant just before the accident, which is why it wasn't picked up in the tests. It was simply too early to tell.

But as the doctor went over the results in detail, explaining the situation to you both, one thing became abundantly clear: there could be no mistaking it. You were definitely pregnant.

The room seemed to spin around you. You couldn't believe it. You hadn't thought it was possible. You blinked hard, trying to push back the tears that were threatening to spill over. " I... I can't have a baby. Not now," you whispered, your voice shaking as you tried to hold it together. "I don't know if I can do this."

Lucy leaned in closer to you, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "Hey, it's going to be okay," she said soothingly. "And maybe it's a sign, babe. Maybe this was meant to be because, for a fetus to survive what your body went through in those last three or four months, is pretty remarkable," Lucy said, her voice gentle and soothing, her eyes filled with encouragement and hope.

You nodded, understanding where Lucy was coming from. And she was right, it was a miracle that the baby had survived the accident and the subsequent surgeries and treatments. But still, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events.

"With the medication and treatments I had those last few months, what are the chances of damage to the baby?" you asked, your voice now shaking as fear gripped your chest.

"The risk is minimal, with all the medications you have received being either A Class or B Class medicines, and the fetus looks well developed, so I wouldn't worry, but let's have a closer look at the organs for any abnormalities, " the doctor reassured you, smiling warmly before conducting a more detailed ultrasound, carefully examining every organ of the growing fetus.

Minutes passed, and Lucy kept squeezing your hand, maintaining eye contact to reassure you as you watched, in utter amazement and disbelief, as the doctor pointed out the different organs and limbs on the screen.

The little being inside you was kicking and moving, a testimony to its vibrant health and development.

Finally, the doctor nodded and turned off the machine. "All is well in there, and the baby is healthy and growing perfectly," he then finally said, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over you, even though you were by no means ready for this.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" you asked almost as if you were in a trance , still not quite able to comprehend the enormity of the news.

The doctor nodded and gestured to the ultrasound screen. "Well, this area here would indicate that your baby is a boy," he said softly, pointing to a slightly wider section in the grainy, black and white picture.

You kept staring at the ultrasound screen, unable to tear your gaze away from the small, wriggling figure. "A boy," you murmured softly, almost to yourself before breaking out in tears.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of fear and uncertainty in that moment.

You had never dreamt of becoming a mother, at least not this soon, not under these circumstances. And although you knew that you could rely on Cillian to support you, you were still hesitant to bring a child into the world so abruptly.

With everything that was going on in your lives, the timing was absolutely terrible and you were unsure whether or not motherhood would break you. You weren't ready for this and not to mention the fact that your relationship was still very new and complicated.

You had no idea how you would explain this to Cillian and the thought of telling him made you sick to your stomach.

NOTE: Yes I know I am predictable. I cannot help myself! I love writing pregnancies into my fics, so no judgment please.

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#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x y/n

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