#I had this thought the first time I watched the movie but I didn't have the thing memorized enough to be confident in my time calls

[thegainingdesk]

It Takes Two

Robert had hit the jackpot with Liam. They just clicked in a way that he never had with any of his previous partners, or honestly, even his friends and family. Robert wasn't a particularly romantic person, but the word “soulmate” had cropped up in his thoughts more than once.

The two had the same humour, enough shared hobbies that they could always find something to do together, but were different enough that they were constantly introducing each other to new films, music, and ideas. It helped that they were both gorgeous. Liam was a little shorter than average with the trim build of a swimmer, and his sparkling blue eyes stood out below ash blond hair; Robert was taller and bulkier, but no less fit, and with dark hair and eyes. They both had great careers, great families, great friends, great lives. Robert couldn't imagine anything that could put a dent in the trajectory of their perfect relationship.

“Sorry, you want what?” Robert said, blinking. He couldn't believe his ears.

“I want us both to gain weight,” Liam said, breathing slowly and shakily as if to calm himself.

“Like bulking?” Robert asked slowly, grasping for an explanation that made sense. “At the gym?”

Liam exhaled forcefully and sat back. “No,” he said. “I want… I want to be fat. I'd like it if you were too.”

Robert sat in silence for a while. “Right,” he said after a while. “Okay.” He furrowed his brow. “Sorry, you're going to have to- why? I just don’t- why?”

“It's a uh…” Liam closed his eyes forcefully, balled his fists, clenched his teeth. “Well it's a sex thing,” he forced out. “I have a fat fetish.” He nervously played with the napkin in front of him and looked around the restaurant. “Like, we wouldn't have to, you know, I'm not saying I'd really want us to actually gain weight.” He laughed nervously. “But I just, I don't know, like it's a thing for me and I wanted you to know and umm well.” He took a sip of the beer in front of him. “I'd like it if we could do some stuff with it. Just, you know, roleplay or whatever, not obviously, like get fat or anything.”

The two men sat in silence for a while. “Okay,” Robert said after a while. “That's umm… well it's okay, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Liam said, sitting up in his chair and smiling for the first time in the conversation. “It’s okay? You don't think I'm a freak?”

Robert forced a thin smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean no, you're not a freak, but yeah, it's okay. I uhh, I think I'll need to think about it for a while.”

“Is everything okay for you both?” their waitress boomed down at the two of them in a thick Mancunian accent. They both jumped in their seats. “Sorry!” she continued. “Didn't mean to scare you!”

Robert shook his head. “Sorry, no, it's fine, we were just in the middle of umm… Yeah. It's good. The food’s all good.” He looked down at the half eaten burger and chips in front of him.

The waitress raised her eyebrows, clearly excited to tell her colleagues about the hot gay couple who seemed to be breaking up over dinner. “You call me if you need anything then, won't you?” she said as she walked away.

“I'm sorry,” Liam said. “This is a lot to just put on you, it’s weird. I just thought maybe over a meal might be easier, you know. Not as intense.”

Robert shook his head. “It's fine, really, I just need to…” He looked at the platter of sides that Liam had insisted on ordering. He'd found it odd at the time; now he found it made all too much sense. “I just need to get my head around it. Let's eat, yeah? We can talk about it in the morning?”

For the first time since they first met, their conversation was forced. They bounced between what they thought of recent movies they'd watched, banal work gossip, even at one point resorting to commenting on the weather. Slowly, the food disappeared from the table.

-

Robert woke Liam up by putting a mug of coffee on his bedside table and kissing his forehead. “Okay.”

Liam opened one bleary eye. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Robert repeated. “I've been thinking about it, and okay. If it'll make you happy, we can try out putting on some weight.” He sat down on the bed next to Liam.

“What?” Liam said, frantically sitting up in bed, all tiredness leaving his face immediately. “You're really- I mean, we don't actually- I'd be happy if we just did some roleplay, or maybe, I don't know, maybe a threesome with a big guy or-”

“No you wouldn't,” Robert said. “I saw you last night. You started off with saying you wanted us to get fat, then backtracked. This will make you happy.” He took a long swig of his own coffee. “And you make me happy. So I guess that I'll do it.”

“Rob, this is a really big… I mean…. Why are you okay with this? This is weird, I do know that.”

Robert shrugged and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I don't know if it is that weird, you know?” he said. “I mean, yes, obviously the specific, you know, request of it all is weird but…” He brought some photos and showed them to Liam. He swiped through men with varying degrees of dad bods, plus sized models, even some men with actual, if modest, guts. “People are into it, I guess? Like I know that. And I'm not averse to it, some of these guys are hot and I always like it when guys do bulks and…” He shrugged again and put his phone away. “I guess it would be nice to not worry about going to the gym and watching what we’re eating and stuff for a while.”

Liam hugged Robert tightly and kissed him. “This is amazing. You're amazing.”

Robert laughed. “Alright, alright. You’re going to owe me a lot of blowjobs for this though,” he joked.

“Oh don't you worry,” Liam flirted back. “Once you’ve put on a couple of stone you won’t be able to keep me off you.”

Robert’s face paled, but he gave a strained smile. “Come on,” he said, standing up off the bed. “I’ve been to the shops.” He swallowed nervously. “I thought we could have bacon and egg sandwiches for breakfast.”

-

Getting fat, Robert thought to himself a month later, was actually pretty fun. No more bothering with cardio at the gym, eating whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Food just tasted so much better if you stopped caring about how much butter you were adding, and he'd never realised how good McDonald's breakfasts were, but now was having multiple a week on his days in the office; this past week he'd even started experimenting with fast food for lunch, a luxury he'd always previously avoided. There were benefits he'd not expected as well; he’d hit multiple personal bests on lifts at the gym as all the extra food acted as fuel, and he's quickly come to enjoy the satisfying warmth of an overly full and stretched out stomach. Best of all, Liam’s sexual appetite, always healthy, had positively exploded, and the two spent most of their time together naked and eating.

Of course, not everything was rosy. Robert found it disconcerting how quickly his abs had faded and how his trousers had started pinching his sides and he would occasionally panic after they'd gorged on a particularly large meal, staring at the small curve of his gut in the mirror as he wondered what he'd agreed to. Still, he reasoned, it wasn't really noticeable yet, especially with clothes on and it really was fun just cutting loose. Besides, it made Liam happy, and Robert was quickly realising that that was all that really mattered to him. Everyone gains a bit of weight in relationships anyway.

“Best start laying off the beers Robby,” Robert’s brother Dylan said, poking the small puddle of fat at his middle. “You're starting to look like me.” He slapped his own beer belly, grown since the birth of his daughter a couple of years before.

Robert choked on his beer. “What?” he said. His hand flew down to his side, feeling the thin layer of fat that had started to accumulate. He was sure that you couldn't see the gained weight through his clothes. “No, I haven't, umm…”

“Ah, I'm only taking the piss,” Dylan said, slapping Robert on the shoulder before draining his pint. “I'm hardly one to talk, am I?” He gestured down at himself. “I'm just saying, our genetics, it'll catch up to you sooner or later. You've seen dad.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Here, I saw him last week, he said he was seventeen bloody stone. I said bloody hell dad, you'll need to reinforce these chairs soon.” Robert laughed through a forced smile. “Anyway, speaking of taking the piss,” Dylan said standing up and walking to the gents.

Robert took the opportunity to survey his body. Perhaps, he thought, you could just about start to tell - sitting down anyway. His shirt fit just a tiny bit tighter than he was used to, and his torso wasn't quite as flat. He thought back to what his brother said. Would Liam want him to get as big as his dad? Seventeen stone. He tried to imagine that much weight on him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, he reasoned, he had a good base of muscle, he wouldn't look gone to seed like his dad, with his beer gut that strained all his shirts. Still, he resolved to cut back. Liam seemed happy enough with his current size, anyway.

Four hours later, Robert stumbled through his front door, chips, cheese and gravy in hand, sauce from his already devoured kebab down his shirt. He found Liam watching a film in the living room.

“Hello sexy,” Robert growled through a mouthful of cheesy chips. His cock hardened as he flopped down next to his boyfriend and began to feel up his thighs.

“Hello sexy to you too,” Liam laughed. “Did you get any for me?” he asked as he stole a chip.

Robert shook his head and pushed some more chips in his mouth. “Sorry, didn't think,” he said. “Was just really hungry.”

“That's okay,” Liam said with a smile growing alongside his erection. “You get nice and filled up.” He squeezed Robert’s middle. “I'm loving this beer bloat you've got going on,” he growled. He leaned in and kissed Robert’s neck while one hand began unbuttoning Robert’s jeans. “Did you have a good time with Dylan?”

Robert sighed as his jeans sprung open. “He said I'm getting fat,” he told Liam. His hand fell on top of Liam's as it massaged his gut. “Do you think I’m getting fat?”

Liam laughed. “Oh don't you worry about that,” he said. “You're nowhere near what I’d call fat yet.” Robert smiled before belching. Liam scrunched his nose against the smell of his breath, strong with beer. He leaned in and kissed Robert, hard and long. “How about we take those chips to the bedroom, big boy?”

-

Robert turned to the side as he looked in the mirror and sucked in. He tried to tell himself that he didn't look fat per se, but god was that getting more and more difficult. He was running out of euphemisms for his changing body; for a while he’d told himself he was looking solid, then healthy, then sturdy, burly, and husky and now he had to admit that thick was the best he could hope for. Hell, even chubby might be underselling it. He stopped sucking in and let his gut pool out, sticking out past the waistband of his new 36” waist trousers. He thought ruefully about the 38s lying in the drawer that Liam had convinced him to buy, telling him he'd be wearing them sooner rather than later. He brought his arm up and flexed. At least his muscles were growing too, but he had to admit, it was becoming less apparent as they got covered up with a layer of chub.

At least he wasn't alone in his changing body, with Liam also growing alongside him, although not nearly as fast. While Robert had recently passed two hundred and twenty pounds, Liam was lamenting how he was still fifteen pounds away from the big two-oh-oh. Robert told himself that it was just the difference in their heights, but he knew he wasn't really that much taller, and the difference in their weights really was becoming obvious. While Liam’s pudge had only just started forming a proper belly over the last five pounds, Robert’s own gut had long since reached the point of stretching out his shirts.

In a perverse way, Robert was almost beginning to enjoy how much fatter he was getting than Liam. He'd always been taller and bulkier than his boyfriend, with broader shoulders and bigger muscles, and odd as it was, he was enjoying how he was now outgrowing him in yet another way. He began to feel more masculine, more dominant, and he loved the way his new body made the smaller man go crazy and want to worship him, all while knowing that Liam would give anything to look like he did now. He'd always had a competitive streak, and this was just yet another competition to win.

Robert struggled to button up a shirt, and gritted his teeth as he felt the buttons strain around his shirt, even as his cock inexplicably swelled in his jeans. He walked downstairs and tried to ignore the sensation of his body shaking with each step to find Liam checking his hair in the mirror.

“You ready to go?” Robert asked.

Liam looked up smiling, only for his mouth to fall open upon seeing Robert. “Fuck Rob, you look massive.” He reached out to grab the bottom of Robert’s gut and gave it a small shake. “Are you sure you don't want to wear a large? It's a bit tight. There'll be loads of people there.”

Robert shrugged, the motion causing his shirt to ride up. He tugged at the hem awkwardly. “This is a large,” he explained. “I’ll need to go shopping for some extra larges this week.”

“Oh wow,” Liam whispered. “Extra large, that's, wow.” He tugged at the hem of his own shirt in a mirror of Robert’s motion. Despite being a medium, Robert knew, the shirt was barely snug. Robert struggled to hide a smug smirk, even as his annoyance at his shrinking clothes mounted.

“Well you'll be wearing this shirt soon enough, eh?” Robert said before giving Liam a kiss on the cheek. “And then we can share extra larges once you catch up.”

Liam smiled sadly. “Yeah, maybe.” His phone buzzed and he looked down at it. “Taxi’s here,” he said. “You got everything?”

Robert nodded an affirmative, before dashing to the kitchen and grabbing a couple of chocolate bars for the road.

“God did you see their faces?” Liam asked as they came back that night. His face was flushed with drink and arousal. “They couldn't believe how fat we'd gotten!”

Robert burped into his fist and began to unbutton his shirt and trousers. He gave a sigh of relief as his unconstrained belly was allowed to surge forward. Liam stared at the spectacle for a second before hurriedly mimicking the motion, despite his own clothes not being nearly so restrictive.

“Good food,” Robert said simply. His cock was rock hard, as it was more and more frequently whenever he'd stuffed himself, as he had tonight. He let out another belch.

“You ate so much,” Liam said, almost reverently. “When you went to the toilet, Olive asked if everything was okay. They're properly worried about how much weight we've gained.”

Robert gave a lopsided grin. He was sure they were mainly concerned about him, and not Liam, especially as he'd ended up finishing so many people's meals at the end of the night while Liam struggled to finish his own plate. He reached into his pants and gave his hard cock a squeeze. “You know,” he whispered to Liam, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “There's a tub of ice cream in the freezer. Maybe you could, you know, while I ate it?”

Liam's eyes widened. “You're still hungry? Oh wow. Yeah, yeah, absolutely, I mean, wow.” His smile widened and his hands explored the sides of Robert’s gut.

“Go on then,” Robert said with a small nod of his head towards the kitchen. “I'll be upstairs.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Of course, I'll just go and, yeah.” Liam dashed off towards the kitchen as Robert trudged upstairs, massaging his bloated middle.

Liam entered the bedroom to find Robert sat on the edge of the bed completely naked, with his legs spread wide to expose his thick, hard cock.

“I microwaved it for a bit,” Liam said. “So it's easier to eat."

Robert merely grunted and spread his legs wider in response as he took the tub away from Liam, making his wants clear. Liam sank down before him and dutifully swallowed as much of his prick as he could. Robert grabbed the spoon embedded in the ice cream, and sucked what was on there before tossing it to the side. Instead he simply raised the tub to his lips and began to chug. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, relishing in the twin pleasures of head and dessert.

Okay, he thought, yes, he'd lost his hot gym body he’d worked so hard for, but god, if this is what the alternative was, who gave a shit? What did he want to work out for anyway? He was in a great relationship, getting treated like a king, so it's not like he needed to attract anyone. And besides, his brother was right, with his genetics it was always going to be a losing battle. No, it was best to just lie back, taste the ice cream, and think of England.

He climaxed just as he finished the ice cream. “Thanks babe,” he grunted. “That was great.”

“That was really hot,” Liam enthused, unbuckling his belt and dropping his own trousers.

“Anything to make you happy,” Robert said as he crawled into bed and began scrolling on his phone.

“Oh. Right,” Liam said. “Yeah.” He crawled into bed next to Robert.

-

Robert burped as he brought the carton of heavy cream away from his lips. The taste was greasy and unpleasant, but he thrilled at the thought of how many calories he'd just chugged, and all before dinner.

“What are you doing?” Liam asked. “We’re leaving in a moment, you still need to get changed.”

“Just topping up the tank,” Robert grinned. He pushed his gut out to make a show of it. “What's wrong with what I'm wearing?”

Liam looked at his watch. “We’re eating in half an hour Rob,” he said. “And that shirt’s ridiculous, it's barely buttoned.”

Robert smirked and moved in close, grabbing Liam's love handles and grinding their soft bodies together. “Don't worry babes,” he said. “I'm just getting warmed up. Hey,” he added in a whisper. “I'll even let you feed me dessert later.”

Liam broke away and stepped back. “I'm being serious Rob,” he said, struggling to hide his erection. “You can't wear that shirt. Go find an extra large.”

Robert drummed his fingers against his gut. “All in the wash,” he said smugly. “Come on, don't act like this doesn't drive you wild.” He fingered his belly button through one of the gaping buttons holes. “Two-fifty pounds, eh? Did you ever imagine I'd get so big for you when you asked me to get fat for you?” He reached down and gripped Liam’s cock through his trousers. Liam whimpered involuntarily. “Did I tell you that I'm fatter than Dylan now? Dad too. Biggest guy in the family now, sounds pretty good, doesn't it?”

Liam stepped back away from Robert’s grasp. “Just put on a jumper or something,” he said. He rearranged his erection. “The one you got a couple of weeks ago will work.” Robert stepped closer again and he stepped back. “Please Rob,” he said. “It is hot how big you're getting, and I'm glad you're starting to get something out of it too, but not in front of my family, yeah?”

“I'm just joking!” Robert said. “I know I can't wear this out in public anymore. I'll go sort it now.”

“Thank you,” Liam said.

As Robert left he smacked the side of his gut. “All for you baby!”

Robert returned shortly after, his jumper managing to cover his body but doing nothing to disguise his expanded girth.

“I didn't ask you to get fat,” Liam said, sitting at the kitchen table.

Robert laughed. “What?” he asked.

“Earlier,” Liam said. “You said I'd asked you to get fat.”

“Did I? Well, you did, didn't you! Otherwise I have made a very big error of judgement.” He lifted his jumper to reveal the still straining shirt.

“No, I mean, I know I did ask you to get fat, obviously,” Liam said. “It's just. I didn’t say that. I said I'd like us both to get fat. Together. I feel like that's not been a thing for a while.”

Robert stepped closer to Liam and rubbed his buttery side. “You're getting fat too,” he said. He almost laughed at the ridiculousness of comforting someone about how they were gaining weight. “Here, you hit two hundred pounds finally, right? That's great! I'm really proud of you.” He kissed bent down to kiss Liam. “You're my chubby guy too. It's just that this is your thing I guess, so I don't know how to do all the encouragement stuff you do for me. I just want to make you happy, and I guess I got a little carried away.”

Liam shook his head. “No, I know,” he said. “I'm just being silly. I do really appreciate what you've done.” He laughed. “You know, I just kind of thought you'd put on twenty pounds and then get freaked out. I actually thought I'd end up being the fatter one.”

Robert kissed Liam again. “Funny to think about that now, eh? Here, we've still got five minutes before we need to leave,” he said. “There's another thing of cream in the fridge. Why don't I feed it to you before we go?” He leant in and whispered in Liam's ear. “I think you'll really love how two hundred and fifty pounds feels.”

Liam pulled a face and laughed. “No way,” he said. “I don't know how you chug them, it's absolutely gross.”

Robert shrugged. “Your loss is my gain. Why don't you have some chocolate or something then?” He opened the fridge and licked his lips as he looked. “You know, if you don't want it, maybe you could feed it to me? Maybe we could see if I could break my record for number of calories today?”

Liam forced a smile. “Yeah, if you want,” he said. “Sounds hot.”

Robert grinned as he passed the cream to Liam and sat down and tilted his head back to allow him to pour it down his throat. “The things I do for you, eh?”

-

Robert lifted up his t-shirt as he scratched his side. His most recent stretch marks were particularly aggravating, a fact which wasn't helped by the fact that he was just on the cusp of needing to size up his t-shirts and sweatpants, the too tight fabric irritating the more sensitive skin.

“What's for dinner babe?” he asked Liam as he walked into the kitchen. Liam was clearing away the remnants of Robert’s lunch, a small pile of McDonald’s wrappers and boxes.

Liam's eyes flicked up and down Robert’s body before turning away. “Roast lamb,” he answered. “I thought we'd have something a bit special, since I reached fifteen stone yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Robert asked with a smile. He reached out and patted Liam's small paunch. “That's amazing, well done!” He hoped the milestone might work to undo some of the tension that had developed between them ever since Robert had passed two hundred and fifty pounds, almost thirty pounds ago now. Robert sometimes almost forgot that Liam was trying to gain at all, such was the disparity in their rates of weight gain.

“Yeah, I did actually tell you yesterday,” Liam said icily.

“Oh sorry!” Robert said, as he opened a cupboard and pulled out a pack of biscuits. “I must have forgotten.” He began to eat the biscuits three at a time.

“Yeah, well, you were eating, so…” Liam muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you said something,” Robert insisted.

Liam shrugged. “I said that you were eating,” he repeated. “So it's not surprising that you didn't pay any attention to me.”

“Where's this come from?” Robert asked, incredulous. Biscuit crumbs showered from his mouth as he spoke.

“Where's it… How about the last two years of you doing nothing but eating all the time, only caring about yourself?” Liam snapped.

“Excuse me?” Robert said. “Can I remind you that all of this,” he gestured down at his body, his soft overhang hanging out the bottom of his shirt, the way his sides bulged out, the outline of his tits pushing out and down, the beard he'd grown to hide his double chin, “is because you wanted it?”

“Oh, don't put this on me!” Liam replied. “You want this.”

“You're the one with the fat fetish!” Robert pointed out. “I’m just going along for the ride because I love you!”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “Well when was the last time I encouraged you then, if you're just doing it for me?”

“Yeah, actually!” Robert retorted. “I'm doing this for you and when was the last time you encou-”

“More to the point!” Liam interrupted. “When have you ever, ever, encouraged me?”

“What?” Robert asked, blinking. The question had genuinely thrown him.

“This was supposed to be about me!” Liam snapped. His voice shook a little. “I was the one who asked you to do it and at every fucking stage you've used it as an opportunity for me to wait on you hand and foot.”

“Oh, I've not done anything for you have I?” Robert grabbed the side of his gut and shook it. “Me gaining over a hundred pounds, just because you asked me to, doesn't count as me doing anything, does it?” A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of Robert forcing biscuits into his mouth. “I knew you were jealous,” Robert muttered eventually, crumbs spraying from his mouth.

“I am not fucking jealous of you,” Liam fumed. “How dare you? Fucking jealous.”

“Yeah, you know what?” Robert said. “That's exactly what this is. You wanted to get fat and you can't stand how much bigger I am than you.”

“Can you hear yourself?” Liam scoffed. “And you act like you don't want this at all.” He turned away and began to pull food from the fridge to make dinner. “No, what I wanted was for us to gain weight together. You had to take it all way too far.”

“I took it too far?” Robert asked.

“Yes,” Liam replied. “Yeah, you know what, you did take it too far.” He spun around and gestured down at his body. “I'm quite happy with where I am. I wanted us both to get dad bods, hot ex-jock vibes. Not obese middle aged dad.”

Robert’s face grew red. “That’s a lie and you know it,” he spat. “You still worship this gut every chance you get.”

Liam’s nostrils flared. He turned away, back to the chopping board, and busied himself with vegetables for a minute. Robert could hear him trying to slow his breathing. Eventually, he turned back around. “I just think we should both slow down,” he said. His voice was measured, slow and calm. His fists were clenched and shaking with white knuckles. “We've both,” he put special emphasis on the word, “maybe taken this too far, and it's probably best if we both take a break from the idea of gaining for a bit.”

“Yeah, why don't you slow down your gains,” Robert mumbled.

“What was that?”

Robert bit his tongue. He was being offered an opportunity to end this argument. “Yeah, you're probably right,” he agreed. “Whatever makes you happy. It was your idea after all. If you want to stop, no reason to carry on.” He shoved a fistful of biscuits into his mouth.

“Yeah, right, well,” Liam said. He sighed and turned back towards the food he was preparing. “Why don't you go watch something? I'll call you when dinner's ready. It'll be a while.”

Robert shrugged. “Sure,” he agreed.

“And Robert?” Liam called just as he'd left the room.

“Yeah?” Robert replied.

“Why don't you set up the spare room for tonight,” Liam said. “Your snoring’s gotten really bad the past twenty pounds or so, and I need to be up early.”

Robert hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, can do.”

-

“”What the fuck is this?” Liam sighed. Robert couldn't help but admire the way his partner's newly blossomed love handles were framed by the hallway light behind him. He felt oddly proud of his boyfriend's recent weight gain, even as it paled against his own.

“I uh… well,” Robert began. He looked down at himself in the light streaming in from the door. Clad only in too tight underwear, crumbs had fallen down to litter his body hair. His fingers were thick with chocolate icing where he'd dug them into the cake in front of him, and he knew that it must be all around his mouth as well. “I got hungry,” he finished lamely.

Liam entered the dark kitchen and sat in a chair opposite Robert. “Dinner was plenty,” he said. “I was full.”

“Yeah, well, I'm bigger than you, aren't I?” Robert pointed out. “I can't help it if I get hungry, can I?”

Liam shrugged. “I guess, yeah,” he said. “Could you help buying a-” he picked up the packaging and peered at it in the dim light. “Party-sized triple chocolate fudge birthday cake, serves twenty, I'm assuming earlier today?” he asked. “Because this didn't magically appear in the kitchen. Could you help hiding it? And suggesting that you sleep in the spare room so I wouldn't notice when you snuck downstairs?”

Robert slumped in his chair. The wood groaned in protest. “I am trying,” he said after a while.

Liam sighed and put his head in his hands. “I know this isn't the first time this week,” he said. “I know that it's at least two or three nights most weeks, and if it's not,” he gestured at the mess of chocolate on the table and on Robert, “this, you sneak out and go to a drive through.”

The kitchen was silent for a while.

“We said we'd both stop gaining,” Liam said eventually. “We said we'd try and lose weight.”

“You've put on weight too,” Robert said. He felt like a child arguing about missing out on play time. He couldn't stop thinking about the rest of the cake in front of him. He wanted to lick the chocolate off his fingers.

“I've put on fifteen, maybe twenty pounds,” Liam said. “I'm not saying I've been great,” he admitted. “But I've cut down. That's not crazy for a year.” He paused for a while. “How much do you think you've put on?” he asked.

Robert shrugged. “Yeah, probably the same,” he said. He could feel his cheeks redden, and hoped it was dark enough that Liam couldn't see. “It's not like I weigh myself very often.”

Liam put his face in his hands and leant on the table. “I found your grommr account,” he said.

Robert squirmed in his seat. “Well what were you doing on grommr then?” He winced even as he said it.

“I've got a fat fetish,” Liam replied. “What are you doing on there?” When he got no reply, he continued. “It said you're three hundred and forty pounds.” He picked up a small fragment of the leftover destroyed cake and ate it slowly. “Is that right?”

“I guess,” Robert said.

“I don't think this is working,” Liam said.

“I know,” Robert said. “I'll do better. I'll try and lose some weight, I know I've taken it too far now, I’ll join a gym and-”

“No,” Liam cut him off. “I don't think this is working. Us. I think… I think we should break up.”

-

“You okay buddy?” Dylan asked.

Robert shrugged and took a swig of his beer. He belched. “Why wouldn't I be okay?”

Dylan sighed. “Rob, I… I mean look at yourself. This isn't okay.”

Robert scratched his beard. He'd maybe let it grow a bit too long, and he'd not had a chance to buy any clothes that fit in the past couple of months, but what was he supposed to do? He'd been busy, and it's not like he could just walk into shops and pick up his size anymore. “It's just work and stuff,” he said. “And with the move, my appearance hasn't been my top priority.”

“Yep, and I completely get that,” Dylan placated. His voice was bright and soft and his hands were spread open like he'd presumably heard in some how to handle difficult conversations podcast. “But I don't think we’re talking about just your appearance here. You have… fuck me Rob, you've gotten really fucking big.”

Robert scratched his gut and tried to pull his t-shirt down. “It's just the break-up,” he said. “And you've said it before, we've got shit genetics for getting fat.”

“Look, I'm not trying to have a go,” Dylan said. He slapped his own gut. “I'll be the first to admit that I'm not exactly in my prime. I don't think I've been to the gym since Livy’s been born, probably not great. Shit happens, and I get that the break-up hasn't helped, and work, and yep, absolutely, we did not win the genetic lottery in our family for twenty-eight inch waists but… I mean this isn't exactly the break-up, is it? It's been going on a lot longer than that, but at least, fuck, at least I used to think you were happy with it. Happy with Li-” Robert shot him a dirty glare. “Well, whatever, happy, anyway.”

“Who says I'm not happy?” Robert asked. He drained his beer bottle and stood to get another. When he returned he collapsed back into his seat and Dylan winced. “Yeah, I put on relationship weight with Liam too, but that wasn't, you know, that wasn't anything to do with… We just weren't, I don't know, compatible anymore. I know I'm fat, I know I’m stressed, and that I've been doing better, but I'm fine. You can drop it.”

“Look, let's…” Dylan looked around the room as if searching for something to help him. “I weighed myself the other day, eighteen stone. Not proud to be fatter than dad these days, but you know, there it is. How much are you weighing?” He looked Robert up and down. “Over twenty stone?” He hesitated. “Twenty-five?” He said it as if he couldn't believe anyone could weigh so much.

Robert shrugged. “Twenty-seven maybe.” He actually thought it might be a bit more.

“Jesus fucking Christ Robby,” Dylan exclaimed. “No, sorry, I don't mean- that's not, you know, it's fine, bodies come in all different- but fucking hell Rob that's… Twenty seven stone!” he cried. “That's not just relationship weight, is it? That's not break-up weight or stress weight or shit genetics that’s…” He took a deep breath and clasped his knee. “Do you like it?”

Robert stared at him. “Like what?”

“Look, no judgement,” Dylan said. “Vanessa says she likes, you know,” he shook his own gut for emphasis. “The belly. She even feeds me up a bit sometimes, I think, and I'm not exactly turning down bigger portions. I know it's a thing. I even get it a bit. But, I mean Rob. You can tell me.” He reached out and grasped Robert's knee. “Is it intentional? Even just a little bit? At least if, fuck, if I knew you were doing it on purpose, that you liked how fucking big you'd gotten I could… I could stop worrying about you fucking losing it. Like, I'm going to worry about your heart giving way, yeah, fine, but I can't be dealing with worrying about you being depressed or needing help and… And if something happened and I'd not done anything. Not after mum.” He started fidgeting with his collar, a nervous habit he'd had since school.

“Yeah,” Robert said quietly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I'm into it. It's been, you know, on purpose. Mostly. You don't have to worry about that stuff. I'm not going to, you know.”

“Thank fuck,” Dylan sighed. “I mean, not thank fuck. It's still pretty fucking weird if I'm being honest, but I'm glad that you're, I don't know, not happy I guess, I know you've got other, whatever. I'm glad this isn't some insane compulsive episode or… I mean I've been imagining loads of stuff.” He downed his beer and breathed shakily. “So Liam was into it too? That's how you two met? Some freaky gay kink club?”

“What? No. Fuck off,” Robert said laughing. “Liam was into it, yeah, but he uhh, well he actually introduced me to it. I went along with it for a bit and then… I don't know, at some point I started liking it.”

Dylan nodded. “I get it. Like, I know I'm not supposed to be liking how fat I've gotten but there's something about it, I guess,” he said. “So what happened with you and Liam? You realised you only had the fat thing in common?”

Robert sighed. “No, we were… fuck. We were fairly perfect for each other. He got, I don't know, jealous about how big I was…” He took a drink and closed his eyes. “No. It wasn't just him. I turned into a knobhead about it.”

“Turned into a knobhead?” Dylan asked with a laugh.

“Oh fuck off,” Robert said. “I got, I don't know. There was a lot going on. I felt like I was doing this huge thing for him, but then I started to like it, and… At some point I managed to make it all about me. And if I pretended I still didn't like it I could still make out I was making this noble sacrifice, but really I was just completely ignoring him. And I think, you know, he did get pretty jealous at one point, but I didn't help. Made it into this weird competition.”

“Well you've got me beat at least,” Dylan said. He reached over to pat Robert's arm. “Here, I've got to go to town tomorrow. I'm not exactly fitting into my work shirts myself these days, how about we go together? Get you some stuff that actually covers that gut.”

“Fuck off,” Robert said, laughing.

“No, I'm serious, Vanessa's actually said she won't let you back round if you're not covered up again,” Dylan said. “You're scaring Livy. And the dog. Come on, we’ll make a day of it.”

“You do know I can't exactly just pop into Marks and Sparks and pick up a jumper, don't you? Most places stop at three XL if you're lucky.”

“No, come on,” Dylan insisted. “There's that plus size place in the Arndale, and Go Outdoors has a sale on, they'll have a tent that'll fit you.”

“Oh fuck off!” Robert laughed. “Yeah, go on then, I'll come along.” He drained his beer bottle. “Thanks, Dyl. Seriously. This has been… It's been good.”

Dylan shrugged. “What am I here for, eh? I'm just sorry I didn't mention it ten fucking stone ago.”

-

Robert huffed as he found his seat and squeezed himself into it. He hated how cinemas made you pay extra for supposedly premium seats, only for them to still not be big enough. He settled himself in, sorting his collection of drinks and snacks.

“Robert? Is that you?” Robert looked up to see a man significantly smaller than him, but still undeniably fat.

“Liam?” he replied.

“Oh god,” Liam said. “I’ll find another seat, don't worry, it doesn't matter.”

Robert patted the seat next to him. “Don't be silly,” he insisted. “It'll be nice to catch up during the trailers. Besides,” he looked around at the rapidly filling seats around them. “It's the opening weekend of Paddington vs Barbie 2: Paddington's Revenge, I'm not sure there’ll be any spare seats to move to.”

Liam looked around, sighed and sat down.

“You here with anyone?” Robert asked.

Liam shook his head. “The first one went right over my head the first time I watched it, I decided to come without any distractions.”

“Same,” Robert agreed. “And after it won all those Oscars I knew I should come see this one quick before anyone spoiled it for me.” He surveyed Liam for a bit. “How've you been, anyway?”

Liam smiled. “Good, yeah. Lots of the same, you know,” he said. “Not much to report.” He hesitated for a moment. “Still very much on the gain train.”

“I noticed!” Robert laughed. He reached over and poked Liam's gut where it spilled out over his belt. “How much are you clocking in at these days?”

“Two-seventy,” he said proudly. “I'm wanting to put a bit of a push on before Christmas, get over twenty stone, maybe.”

“Nice!” Robert said, slapping Liam's side. “Well, it suits you. Always did.”

“How about you?” Liam asked. “I noticed you've lost all the weight I forced onto you.”

Robert laughed and shook his own gut that spilled out towards his knees. “Yeah, I couldn't stand it, you know, who'd be fat?” he joked. “I'm about four-seventy, maybe four-eighty these days.”

Liam whistled. “Wow,” he said. “That's incredible. Like, I thought I was fat but you're another two hundred pounds on top of that.”

“You are fat,” Robert said warmly. “I'm just a lot fatter.”

“A whole decently chubby person fatter, in fact,” Liam pointed out.

“I like that,” Robert said laughing; his whole body shook with the action. “You know, I eventually admitted to myself that I probably am a gainer after all.”

“Probably a gainer, wow,” Liam said. “That must have been a difficult conclusion to come to.” He put a finger underneath one of Robert’s moobs and lifted it before letting it drop and watching the ripples spread across the larger man's body.

“Yeah, well, you know, a pretty great guy introduced me to the whole thing,” Robert said.

Liam smiled sadly. “So have you been seeing anyone or…?”

“Not really,” Robert replied. “I meet up with some feeders occasionally but, they're not, you know. It's not the same.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Liam agreed.

“So are you?” Robert asked. “Seeing anyone or anything?”

Liam shook his head. “Some dates and umm… no. No. Not seeing anyone.”

“I'm sorry,” Robert said. “For everything. For… I got selfish. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I turned it into this selfish fucking…”

“I'm sorry too,” Liam said. “It wasn't just you. I asked you to do it for me then didn't like it when it turned out you actually enjoyed it, which is pretty fucked up of me. We could have talked about it more. Properly I mean.” He looked around. “Listen, all these people listening in are clearly finding our conversation very fucking weird, and I can't really be bothered with all this art-house stuff anyway. Do you want to just go get something to eat?”

Robert looked down the full row. “Getting out might be a bit of an ordeal. I'm not really built for squeezing past people these days,” he said.

“Sounds hot,” Liam replied. “You in?”

Robert laughed. “Yeah, okay. Dinner sounds nice.”

-

Liam licked the last of the chocolate off of his fingers as Robert lapped up his cum.

“Happy three hundred pounds babes,” Robert said as he leant up.

Liam struggled to sit up. “Your turn now,” he said.

Robert shook his head. “This is your night. Big celebration,” he said. “You don't have to do anything.”

“I want to,” Liam insisted. “Besides, we've got a whole other cake and I’m stuffed.”

“Oh I'll eat the cake,” Robert said. “But you don't have to suck me off.

“You're sure?” Liam asked.

Robert smiled. “It's fine, you take a nap to digest everything, I'll go clean up,” he said. “As long as you're happy, I'm happy.”

[muwapsturniolo]

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 ᥫ᭡. c sturniolo

“I just-she left…”

✗ Angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut, cliffhanger

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

Love was a tricky thing - Bittersweet.

It could make you feel so whole and warm, like your life has meaning. On the other hand, it could break you down completely, as if you weren't worth anything.

This was something that scared Chris. He told everyone he had commitment issues, but they took it as he couldn't settle for one girl specifically, or he was scared of women. In reality, it was the idea of not knowing how your love with someone could end.

So when he dove head first into a relationship only for it to crumble right in his hands, he was distraught. It was so sudden, he thought everything was fine. He was happy, she was happy.

At least he thought she was.

"You're love is just too much Chris...I can't do this."

Her words hurt, they broke him.

He didn't understand how him showing how much he loved her was too much. Isn't that what girls want, for their partners to be open and loving?

After that night it was like she never existed, and it wasn't Chris's doing. The girl had deleted her socials, moved away from LA, and cut everyone off. He could only feel what was left of her, but he wasn't able to feel her.

He wished he knew where she went, what she was doing. He wished he knew how the hell she managed to make him fall in love with her, only to break him.

Did she ever love him?

He refused to be the type to marinate in his emotions, so he threw himself into his work. He forced Nick and Matt to film videos back to back, the brothers quickly becoming exhausted. He decided it was finally time to get his license and a car, hoping that if he betters himself she would come back to him.

But she didn't.

Everyone could see the change in him. He started going out more without his brothers, partying with Sam and Gnar. He'd come home with a different girl on his arm every night, and a bunch of money being spent from the joint account he shares.

That phase only lasted a month or so before Nick finally put his foot down, yelling at Chris and telling him to "Get the fuck over the breakup, she's not coming back."

"I know Nick I just....She left. She fucking left and said my love was too much! What does that mean? I-I did my best!"

He broke down, crying harder than he ever had in his brothers' arms.

"Why did she have to leave? Why won't she just come back?"

It seemed like after that, his whole personality and life did a 180. He grew quiet, no longer being the loud one. He was more snappy, staying in his room and locking himself away from the world.

When questioned about it, he told Matt and Nick that everything reminds him of her. The couch where they watched movies all night, the coffee shop she would force him to go to, and the overall energy of LA.

After a long talk, the three of them decided to leave LA. It seemed like a drastic change, but none of them were happy.

Matt never wanted to come to LA, Chris couldn't handle the memories, and Nick just wanted his brothers to be happy. So after a month of dealing with their management and trying to find a place back home, they finally were back in Boston.

Matt was happier, Nick was happier, and Chris was slowly doing better. He was eating more, laughing again, and even hanging out with friends. He still had trouble sleeping at night, his dreams filled with the memories he shared with her.

He'd wake up wishing that he spent more time savoring those moments instead of taking them for granted. He knew nothing lasted forever and yet he was naive enough to believe they would.

There was a specific night when he couldn't sleep, his mind silent as he stared at the wall. It irritated him, he was tired but something was keeping him awake. He dragged himself out of bed and went to the kitchen to find tea, hoping it would put him in a tranquil state, but there was no tea to be found.

With a sigh he slipped on his shoes and grabbed the car keys, sending a quick text to Nick and Matt, letting them know that if they woke up and he was still gone, he was just grabbing something from the store.

He planned on going to Walgreens, but on the way there, he saw a 24-hour coffee shop. It was small, the lighting giving up a warm glow that was already lulling him to sleep.

He parked the car and walked inside, the smell of the coffee grounds and lavender infiltrating his nose.

It reminded him of the coffee shop they would go to.

He stepped up to the register, looking at the menu for a second before ordering a large chamomile and lavender tea. It only took a second for the barista to hand him his drink, wishing him a 'good night' and telling him to 'be safe'.

With a brief smile he turns around, immediately locking eyes with her.

He could feel his heart fall to the pits of his stomach, his tea long forgotten and dropped to the ground.

"Hey Chris...."

[lizzieolseniskinda]

LOGAN HOWLETT - furrgiveness

x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

SUMMARY: a furry animal gets your plans cancelled.

WORD COUNT: ?

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: english is not my first language and i absolutely hate this

it was a friday night at the mansion, and it was unnervingly quiet for a school. logan leaned against his doorframe, and stared at the clock, waiting for you but you never came. the two of you had planned to grab a drink at his favorite bar - nothing fancy, but it was at least something. something you both enjoyed.

except, you once again, cancelled. no reason or explanation, just a short, “sorry, can’t make it tonight.” and with that you were gone.

this was the third time that week. heck, the seventh time in two weeks that you'd bailed and logan started to notice a pattern. you weren't just ditching him, jean, storm, even scott had mentioned your sudden disappearances. but logan took it a little more personally. you didn't have to spend every waking minute with him, but the lack of explanation? that ate him from the inside out. he wasn't even sure why he kept making plans for the both of you.

now, instead of staying at the mansion like a love sick fool, waiting for another canceled plan. logan grabbed his jacket and headed out. the bar in the next upcoming town had become his escape for nights like this - when things didn't make sense, and whiskey could at least dull a smart part of his irritation.

saturday morning passed, and logan still hadn't returned.

you hadn't meant for things to happen like this, guilt had been gnawing at you for weeks, but it come to a point where it was almost unbearable. you knew logan was frustrated, just like your friends. he never did say much, but the way hs expression tightened with each cancellation told you enough.

you didn't want to cancel - not on logan, or on girl's day with jean or storm, and certainly not on scott - who always made you watch scary movies with him. scott started giving you side eyes and stern look during your training together. there was something you couldn't tell them, not yet anyway.

besides, it wasn’t even that bad.

and logan… well, he hadn't come home last night. when you canceled on him for the millionth time. not that it was unusual for him to disappear every now and then to blow off steam. but something about this time felt different. it wasn't just frustration on his part. you could see it - the hurt beneath his facade that he put up.

you decided to put the facts straight.

by saturday afternoon, you decided to make up your mind and find him. you knew where he'd be. the bar wasn't far from the mansion, a ten minute drive and 30 minutes if you walked. it was a place logan went when he needed space.

walking into the bar, you spotted him immediately, he was hunched over the counter, nursing a glass of whiskey. he didn't seem as tense as the night before, but there was still a slight shadow of frustration hanging over him.

you walked up to him quietly, sliding onto the stool next to him, he reeked of liquor and cigarettes. "logan?"

he didn't look at you right away, just took another sip from his glass. on the bar was a cigar that was halfway done. "what're you doin' here?" his voice low, gruff.

you fiddled with your fingers. "i came to talk, i thought i'd owe you an explanation."

logan finally turned to look at you, his eyes scanning your face. "yeah, you do. been bailin' on everyone, 'specially me. kinda makes a guy wonder what the hell's goin' on."

"yeah.." you replied softly, biting the inside of your cheek. "i'm sorry logan. i didn't mean to keep canceling like that. i just.. i didn't know how to explain it to you."

logan raised his eyebrow, waiting to hear your explanation.

you sighed, feeling the weight of the past few weeks pressing down on you. "there's a reason i've been avoiding plans. not that i don’t want to hang out with you - or jean or scott or anyone.”

“then what the hell is goin’ on?” logan asked, his voice laced with confusion.

you swallowed, “i’ve been taking care of something.”

logan frowned. his brows knitting together. “takin’ care of what? don’t tell me you’re dealin’-“

“no! oh my gosh, no!” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “it’s a kitten,” you admitted. “i found her outside the mansion a few weeks ago. she was sick and alone, and i couldn’t just leave her out there.”

logan blinked, i mean it was better than what he thought at first. “a kitten?”

you nodded. “yeah, she’s been needing a lot of attention- feeding, medicine, litter box you know. that’s why i’ve been cancelling everything. i didn’t mean to blow you off, logan, i just had to take care of her.”

logan stared at you, his expression softened just a bit. "why didn't you tell anyone? why keep it a secret?"

you sighed, "because animals aren't allowed in the mansion, logan. you know how strict xavier is about that. the furniture, the old wood - they don't want anything getting ruined. and i don't want anyone to get in trouble because of me."

logan let out a breath, setting his glass down with a soft thud on the bar. "so you've been sneaking around, just to take care a kitten?"

you nodded, "yeah. i thought if i could just keep it a secret it’d be okay. but… i didn’t think about how it would look for you. i didn’t mean for it to come off like i was avoiding you.”

logan was quiet for a long moment, his eyes still on you. then, after what felt like an eternity, he shook his head, a small, dry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you’re an idiot, y’know that?”

you blinked, surprised. “what?”

logan let out a low chuckle, the tension finally breaking. “you think i give a damn about some furniture or old wood? if you’ve got somethin’ goin’ on, you tell me. i can handle it- i can handle charles. you hidin’ stuff — that’s what pisses me off.”

you felt the relief wash over you, your shoulders finally relaxing. “i’m sorry, logan. i really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

logan grunted, taking another sip of his drink. “yeah, well. you did. but i get it now.”

you nodded, giving him a small, apologetic smile. “i’ll make it up to you. no more secrets, i swear.”

logan’s smirk widened slightly. “damn right, no more secrets.”

for a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting. logan’s frustration had faded, replaced by the familiar ease you usually shared.

“so,” he said, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. “what’re you gonna do with the kitten?”

you smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through you. “i don’t know yet. i’ll figure something out. maybe i should find her a home. but… for now, i’ll keep her out of trouble. away from the furniture.”

logan chuckled again, shaking his head. “you’re somethin’ else, kid.”

as the two of you sat in the bar, the tension and frustration finally fading. no more secrets, no more cancellations.

just you, logan, and maybe a kitten (or two).

“also, i’m pretty sure charles already knows. being a mindreader and all.”

[loracarol]

Went and saw Wicked pt 1 today and I just. Loved it so much.

(Somehow I managed to miss all the marketing / if there were any cast shenanigans, so this is SOLELY based on the movie itself and NOTHING else.) My thoughts, in no particular order (and with some spoilers ahead.)

My biggest fear was that the two leads would seem too old for the part, but they didn't.

I don't really listen to Ariana Grande that much? But her Glinda was PERFECT. She brought such lovely orange cat energy to the role; Glinda was so perfectly bitchy and stupid that it worked for me and I couldn't hate her, even when she was being The Worst (TM).

Also, both actresses have the "desperately trying not to cry" face down to perfection; Glinda in the opening song, trying to put on a brave face about "yes!! the witch is dead!!" but she looked like she was on the verge of tears the whole time? 10/10 no notes.

Whoever was in charge of doing the green skin did an excellent job. I don't know if it was CGI, practical, or a combo, but it looked really good IMO. They even gave her green freckles!!

THE DESERT FROM THE BOOKS.

BOQ IS FUCKING SPONGEBOB???

THE CHOREOGRAPHY. Parts of it were weird in a perfectly Ozian way! But others were gorgeous! Two scenes that got me were the ~Mysterious Stranger~ and Elphaba's mom and then Dancing Through Life esp. with the library. IYKYK.

Speaking of the library, I also liked the architecture.

It didn't feel too long to me? I was immersed the whole time, but that could just be me.

Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenowith have a cameo that is just beautiful.

There were several scenes that were shot where, if Elphie and Glinda kissed, I would have thought that was the natural progression of the scene BUT I also thought that Elphie had a spark with Fiyero which is good because 1. I'm an "Elphie has two hands" truther and 2. because if Elphie and Fiyero had no spark, that would be a problem in part 2. 🤣

(Like, they didn't fall in love which I wasn't expecting, but there was a spark. When they first meet, and she's going through her "yes, I know I'm green" checklist, "no, I didn't eat grass as a kid" is one of the things, and he's just like, "...I ate grass as a kid." Perfect. 10/10 no notes.)

I want to hold off my thoughts on Nessarose until part 2 and I see how they handle her, but there were several scenes were I thought, "you know, if she decided to go evil because people keep disrespecting her autonomy, I'd understand. I wish she'd focus on the people who were being disrespectful instead of being a despot, but like... I get it."

STOP GRABBING HER WHEELCHAIR.

I loved how they really put thought into how a goat would teach, with various foot pedals to operate his teaching equipment.

My Mom got actually sad about the lion cub. :(

Fiyero brought some "Chris Pines in Into the Woods" sluttiness. 10/10 no notes.

We need more Chris Pines in Into the Woods sluttiness.

The costuming in general made me Very Happy. I want the Shiz uniform, honestly.

Maybe I'll watch it again later and have Other Thoughts / more objective thoughts, but my first thought coming out of the theater was, "damn, this fucks."

I liked it a lot.

[pearpap-ponders]

CAN WE TALK ABOUT ORION PAX'S (optimus prime's) LOYALTY AND DEDICATION HELLO???

Orion said this when he had first met D-16 and yet he took that seriously and never went back on his word. All he asked of D was to watch his back, D didn't have to make any deep promise to that. However Orion did, he promised to help this man no matter what.

He always jumped in and help his best friend without ever having a second thought. He immediately saved him from falling off the Iacon 5000 track, he jumped to save him from sentinel's guards and checked if he was okay. He had done so much prior as well that I didn't screenshot.

But even though he had saved him countless times from death physically, he's always had his back metaphorically. He always had D's best interest in mind, he could tell that D had changed after he found out sentinel was actually a villain, and he didn't want this anger to take over his best friend. So he tried to stop him from actually getting to a point where he knew D would never come back. Orion would do anything to save D, in any way possible. He tried talking to him over and over, yet D always let his emotions get in the way of understanding what Orion was trying to convey. So when his words stopped working he had to show him in a way that D would never forget. As a final attempt to stop D from becoming evil he jumped in front of D's blast to save sentinel to prove to him that violence isn't the answer. He promised to always watch out for him, even if it took getting shot to make him realize that he was doing this to save him. He sacrificed so much to help his best friend over and over and over again. Yet in the end D chose to fulfill his desires and let his best friend die to get what he wants and become exactly what Orion was trying to stop him from being. GUYS PLEASE WATCH TRANSFORMERS ONE IN THEATERS OR ON PARAMOUNT+ WE NEED ANOTHER MOVIE!!! IT IS A CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE PLEASE WATCH!!!!

[simp-ly-writes]

Rat Boyfriend

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You hated Charles Spencer Agnew. Well... maybe hate was too strong of a word, severely dislike would be a better descriptor. But what happens when Spencer dresses up as your number one type, a rat boyfriend?

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, enemies (strong dislike) to lovers, slow burn, miscommunication but cute 💕, kinda cheesy, jealous!Spencer, rat boyfriends, attempt at humour, suggestive themes, part social-media au.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,677

─ · · A/N: might retire after this one fellas 😮‍💨 (no like seriously, I feel like I cooked on this one and am worried to burn others- 😬) also these screenshots I took have me in the FEELS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

─────── · ·

You hated Charles Spencer Agnew. Well... maybe hate was too strong of a word, severely dislike would be a better descriptor. It would be too childish to say that you didn't like him after your first meeting but from hearing your name in multiple snippet conversations he had with others, you stood by your thoughts.

Your first meeting stung, it was your first day in the office and you already were feeling overwhelmed. You had never worked in an environment like this but had always wanted a more casual experience than the typical 9 to 5 office jobs you had worked in the past. You did not want to ask for help, already feeling like a burden to the productions and that further didn't help when you did get the courage to ask someone closest to you, a certain Spencer Agnew that just looked your over quickly before diverting his eyes to anything or anyone else in the room without another word.

It would be another crew member that had come up to you for help a few minutes later after noticing your anxious pacing before you were being thrown onto camera and trying to understand a game as you played it for the first time... lets just say after the crying bathroom was your vacation for the next hour.

This theme of not standing to have conversations with him would continue for your first few weeks and into your first month working for Smosh as a cast member. Everyone else had warmed up to you easily, was affectionate and friendly yet Spencer always had to have someone else in the room before even speaking to you.

He always was like this you thought to yourself before becoming even more discouraged seeing how closely he interacted with your work-best-friends Courtney and Amanda and it stung- hard. So much so that you thought he just didn't like you.

You would often feel his stare when you were in conversations with other guest stars or staff members yet when you would look back over at him, he never even took a second glance nor mentioned it when you tried to sneak it into the minimal conversations you held.

And the worst part of it all? When you would bring it up at the bar outside of work to your fellow co-workers, all they could do is laugh, smile, pat you on the shoulder or order you another drink as if talking down to you not understanding something oblivious. But what could be more obvious than the answer you gathered yourself. Spencer Agnew hated you, and subsequently you hated him for not giving you a fair chance.

─────── · ·

Eventually, once you thought he realized that you were staying for good. You found a way to get into conversations with him, or at least, a form of conversation since you both were competitive as well and the cameras did well to pick up on this as you both shouted and argued with one another over arbitrary games rules to who could name the most movies with talking frogs in them (you won that debate and was still something you brought up in every argument just to watch his expression change).

You loved getting reactions out of him, seeing his eyes light up in a debate or the way he would stress, toying with his hair and glasses yet you would never admit this to anyone... not even yourself. And it would be in these moments that even when you would catch and hold his stare once realizing he was looking at you, he would keep it and his eyes would offer a hint of a smile.

These moments would happen more frequently since the infamous frog event during Bored AF, the most substantial of these during a Shayne guesses where the whole cast and crew sat in for the episode. You sat beside Courtney and Amanda like usually with Spencer sitting in front of you with Alex and Ian.

You could barley keep the smile off your face as Shayne went through everyone's celebrity crush, you laughed and even at times cried from laughing so hard up until your choices came up and you suddenly had shut up. Spencer turned around with a raised brow, his eyes curious as to why your emotions had shifted so suddenly.

You glared at him back, thinking him to be judging your choices of "rodent boyfriends" that you had been gossiping to the entire office about, even holding pictures of them up by your desk on a bulletin board. Spencer held his hands up, turning back around to watch Shayne's reaction as you did the same.

"Ah yes, someone seems to be having a hella rat-boy summer over here so that narrows it down to a few people in the office. But if I've already guessed some of the others... it would have to be (name)," Shayne explains himself with a confident smile, looking over the monitor to gauge your reaction as you offer him a deadpanned stare before shooting Courtney a wink that has her bumping your shoulder.

"And why do you think its (name)?" Alex Tran asks, directing todays video, you knew this question was for the content but you were worried about how it could be cut in the final video.

"Well, how could I not think it to be them? Spencer glares at that bulletin board of these pictures of Barry, Timothée, and Jeremy every time he goes by the (name)'s desk!" Shayne says dryly as if commenting on the weather, as if this is something everyone already knew, and that annoys you must. Yet again you are feeling all of those past emotions come flooding back on the process you made as you fall back into your seat with a huff.

"And let's see if I'm correct... Yes! Let's freakin' go!" Shayne celebrates, pumping his fist as Amanda grabs your hand. "You doing alright?" you asks warmly, head tipped closer to your own making the conversation feel more private.

"Yeah just annoyed that everyone seems to be dancing around something I don't and its really tiring like- yes I know I'm still the "new guy" around here but if its an "in-joke..." I still want to know what exactly it is even if I will not understand it," you explain and Amanda can only offer you a sigh, wrapping an arm around your chair for comfort.

"Its nothing I can explain to you since it's not my space to do so... but I think that it'll all get explained to since someone else also appears to be anxious about it," Amanda does not look you in the eyes, instead watching as Spencer's knee bounces as he sits in front of you and you none-the-wiser to him overhearing your conversation as a que for, 'enough-is-enough'.

─────── · ·

Suddenly you felt like it was your first day at Smosh and in a way it was. It would be your first time preforming in a video for the main channel, the original channel as past of their new series 'bit-city.'

You would be doing a small background role as a bodyguard in the audience, only stepping in for a scene to remove one of your cast mates off the couch but it was a large moment in your Smosh career nevertheless.

Pacing around the set as members rushed around with lights, microphones and props. You were already in your suit and glasses, all ready and kitted-up. You had yet to see Spencer or Trevor even though they were listed on the shoot for today and it was getting closer and closer to the starting time and when that time came and past.

Worry ate up your insides as you rushed over to Angela to ask where the hell everyone was after the first section got filmed and the second was nearly completed. "Hey Angela, do you have a minute, I promise it'll be quick?"

"Yeah of course, whatsup?" Angela responds, taking a sip from her sticker-covered water bottle while offering you a reassuring smile.

"Where's Spencer and Trevor? I saw them on the document but haven't seem them all day, did something happen?" you do your best to level your concern, not wanting to stress her out before you all both have to get back to work.

Angela waved a hand in your face, offering you part of her snack that you graciously took, "Yeah they are off into studio C filming a side-bit for this production. Only here in the morning before continuing on a project for the Games channel, something to do with truck driving? I'm not too sure honestly..." Angela trails off, getting distracted by an email on her phone. "Thanks for letting me know," you smile as she throws you one back before returning to your positions.

─────── · ·

You never usually watch the videos your in, a rule to not embarrass yourself over something you said or did for the bit yet as you quickly skip through the video (as to not traumatize yourself) the audio catching you off guard and you force yourself to pause before hitting replay.

"Tired of straight guys ruining your dating pool? Introducing Straight OS 2025 in three new models. The rat boyfriend..." and the gasp you emitted within the comfort of your own apartment watching as Spencer was spun around 360 degrees in an outfit you swore to only have pinned to your infamous bulletin board.

"No. fucking. way." you whisper-shouted to yourself before letting the video continue. A guitar. A cigarette. And that stupid. fucking. beanie. You were going to- really you did not know what you were going to do the next time you saw him the office. Torn between wrapping your hands around his neck and strangling the man for good or doing that while pulling him in for a kiss...

You shake your head, confused as to where all these thoughts are suddenly coming from as you play the clips on repeat. The ways his rings climb up the neck of the guitar, the way he fixes his hair and tips his cigarette. You hate how suddenly hot the room feels as you rush for a cold shower that does little to calm your thoughts, feelings, or shame flooding your system and before you knew it, it was time to drive back to the office and lucky you... Spencer was directed the next Games video you would be starring in.

─────── · ·

It was harder than you thought not to stare at him and suddenly the roles were revered. You looked away every time he looked over, pretending as if nothing happened.

You did your best to mention your opinions on the recent video while you thought no one else to be looking or listening while lunch break was going on and even when inevitably you and Spencer had to speak, it was you who refused to make eye contact before he said something purposely outlandish just to catch your attention.

"I think I should start wearing this hat more if it gets you this worked up, will make it easy to win this time around," Spencer comments, knowing that you will have not heard a word he had said, and he would stand to be correct.

"Sorry, Spence-er, um what did you say?" you ask for clarification, a brow raised as he brightly smiles, head tilted every so slightly. "I just said that I am determined to win today."

"oh, I didn't know you were playing today?"

"Oh. I was always going to play."

"Okay then..."

─────── · ·

You struggle to get through the video and swear that Spencer knew he was dong something by the grin that fails to be swept off his face no matter how many insults or wins you gain only for him to loose yet he acts as though he has won only making your anger spike.

You storm off set in a whirlwind of emotions, no man you had ever dated has made you this much of a mess and had played with your emotions so well, it was extremely off-putting as you stomped your way to the parking lot before being stopped by the door.

"Hey (name)! wait!" Spencer jogged to keep up with you, failing to pause as you continued your steps towards your car- determined. "Wait, hey!"

"What. Spencer. Whatever could you want?" you question, quickly turning around, baring your teeth as you grip your car keys just about ready to quit and pull out all your hair already.

"Are you doing okay?" Spencer asks with utmost concern, while panting and hanging over his knees, he looks up, sweat dripping from his forehead and curls- your finger twitches yet you hold up your resolve.

"Am I doing okay? What sorta question is that, Spencer? Am I doing okay? Why would you even care to know? You have never in the past. fuck can't even make eye-contact with me, what the hell is your issue man? Because from what I've heard from everyone, its not me so its certainly something to do with you!" you argue as Spencer takes a step back, hands held up once more.

"Yes. It's me, I know I fucked up about doing this the right way. Fuck Spencer, he's a bitch, the absolute worst, yes. I know that. But I also know, even though this is the worst possible moment to say this-"

"To say what Spencer? Look I want to-"

"I love you.... okay? I fucking love you and was too scared to tell you it before. I have loved you since the day you walked into the office and since you could name more talking frogs in cinema than me."

You are left in silence, not even noticing as Spencer picks up the keys that have dropped from your hand as he presses them back into your palm. Holding your touch, intertwining your fingers for a brief moment before pulling away.

You can feel the sparks, the heat of his skin against yours in this California heat as you can feel the gravity of his words circling around your head, the answers you had looked so hard for stumbling into your lap just when you were looking to be done with it all.

"I-I can't- I don't believe you," is all you can say, eyes wide as he fixes his glasses, his cheeks red hot as he reaches out before letting his arm fall, deciding not. You can feel the way your heart drops, already expecting the spark of his touch once more.

"Then let me show you, please. I only ask for this one chance to show you and if you realize this isn't for you I will ask nothing of you because of it," Spencer pleads, you could see his knees ready to give out and beg.

You hold your hands out, not wanting to create a further scene than you already both probably have. "Spencer I-"

"Please, (name). Just this once and I promise to explain everything- it all."

"Fine."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)_(last/name) just posted to instagram!

─────── · ·

Liked by spennser, co_mill, bffs_username and others

(name)_(last/name) me + 🐀 = 💞

View all 7,342 comments

spennser I'm burning that fucking bulletin board

↳ (name)_(last/name) ummm sir? this is a wendys? ↳ spennser I'm being serious! ↳ (name)_(last/name) besties help-! ↳ co_mill don't worry bestie ❤️ I already have it saved for your wedding ↳ (name)_(last/name) I hate you all ↳ spennser I love you too 💞 ↳ (name)_(last/name) 😳 fuck off, all of you /kindly

ianhecox psst! what the fuck do these emoji's mean???

shayne_topp so unbelievably happy for you both!

username01 RAHHHH!!! what is life???

anthonypadilla I feel like I missed twenty episodes or somethin'

username24 I. am. living. for ianthony's combined confusion 🤣

trevorevarts Can you both get back to hating one another? its a bit too cute in here 🤢 /with love

olivia_sui so happy for you both!!

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: no pt.2's to this one!

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

okay disjointed thoughts about the wicked movie 1 day after watching it lets go

-first of all, my movie theater put speakers outside and was just blasting the entire soundtrack on repeat. we could hear it down the street as we were driving up. that's just simply insane

-the opening establishing shots of the land were great but honestly. the very clearly animated dorothy and gang really annoyed me lmfao like I'm sorry it cannot have possibly been too hard to get a few extras to stand in front of a screen for point 5 seconds lol. it was so fast that I Know I'm being dramatic about it but they looked more cartoon than the flying monkey's did

-baby elphie and baby nessa are the cutest things I've ever seen in my life...

-I kinda...like the more human/animal hybrids that the stage show and the original movie had. sorry. like I Get they were only like that bc you can't make a real life goat sing and dance but they're just more interesting to look at than normal-looking animals who happen to talk!

-jeff goldblum's face being hidden every time he had a dance number...I have a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't really dancing lmfao

-whoever decided to bleach ariana's eyebrows deserves jail time

-when jonathan bailey first showed up on screen my mother leaned over to me and whispered 'he's HANDSOME...'

-when cynthia finished the 'wizard and I' I had to actually stop myself from applauding. it felt so weird and rude for there to be dead silence after that performance my GOD.

-also omg the part where she's singing about the wizard de-green-ifying her and the colors in the suncatchers were canceling out the green so she looked normal....inspired!

-madame morrible had these HUGE crystal ball looking rings and I just want them so much lmao

-glinda's friends were really funny the bit were she was like 'I need to lie down' and they immediately picked her up like a plank of wood and carried her off while the one was screaming 'WE NEED A PASTRY!!! IT'S AN EMERGENCY WE NEED A PASTRY!!!' had me cackling

-I wish there was more time between them moving in and 'what is this feeling' starting? like I wanted more time to see them bickering and then also more time seeing them getting along after the ball??

-'dancing through life' was BEAUTIFUL however two complaints 1) why would they cut the line 'what's the most swankified place around?' I Quote That Often and 2) at the end when glinda and elphie dance together like...it's beautiful and everything but from what I remember after their solo moment fieryo joins them?? and they have a cute three way dance moment??? and I'm very pro "they're all in love with each other" so I missed that lol

-also just in general would of liked to see more of fieryo with the girls! like it felt like ball->lion cub->emerald city, in the course of a couple days, and idk I just feel like they could have slowed it down a bit?? especially since they broke it into two movies?? like I don't think that Actually all happened in the span of a week, but they didn't do a good enough job establishing how much time was passing so it Felt like it. which is dumb bc then it just doesn't seem realistic that elphie and glinda are THAT attached to each other by defying gravity like it feels like not enough time has passed for them to really know each other

-boq felt very mild tbh I know ethan can be more unhinged than that

-would've liked to see glinda in magic class!!

-I was a little underwhelmed by elphaba's costumes? like there were clearly patterns on the material but it was all the same shade of black so you couldn't make anything out. it felt a bit flat. and I love the idea behind the freckles I agree with freckles I am pro freckles HOWEVER her's looked very obviously drawn on. like, I have seen way more realistic fake freckles before. so that was a bit annoying

-other than the lunchmeat dress glinda's costumes were good! especially loved the flower shaped one she wore to the ball

-the whole trying to escape in the hot air ballon scene was cool as hell but as the flaming remains of it fell to the ground I couldn't help but be like wow...she really just killed all those guards huh!

-also lmfao the bit in the woods with the lion club and fieryo has like a scratch on his temple. genuinely thought to myself 'is that his lobotomy scar' lmfao

-still trying to get over the part in dancing through life where people were dancing on the spinning gears in the clock tower...bitch

-the flying monkeys were correctly horrifying

-when I saw the broomstick I was like 'won't that be really uncomfortable between your legs' but then she just held it next to her like they do in the stage show and I was like....okay I guess you win that one? lmfao like I don't mind it for when she's hovering but when they had her like supersonic zooming on the broom it was weird that she wasn't actually riding it

-overall I just don't understand how it's an adaptation of act 1 but it's the length of the entire stage show?? lmao like I wish they took advantage of the split and added so much more but really really it was still just such a solid great movie. 5 stars. I can't keep talking about it right now I'm gonna start screaming.

[maddiethedogstories]

The Glasses - The Dark Side

Author's Note: I'm trying something a little bit different with this story. I'm calling it a mirror story. I am going to write a story with the same basic prompt and ideas in two different ways. One wholesome and one dark. This is the dark story. I hope you all enjoy it! Read the wholesome version here.

Greg fancied himself an intellectual. He had a PhD, was the top of his field, and respected by all of his colleagues. He spent all of his free time reading books and papers, absorbing knowledge like a sponge.

Or at least he did, until he met Daddy.

Daddy was everything Greg desired. Daddy was tall, strong, assertive, and brilliant. Greg found himself immediately under the other man's spell.

The first day Daddy brought Greg home, Daddy sat Greg on the couch and pulled the glasses off of Greg's face.

"That's much better," Daddy growled confidently as he watched Greg's panic set in.

Greg, in contrast, found all of his self-confidence leave him as his corrective lenses were removed. Without his glasses, all Greg could see was a soft blur where Daddy's face should be. Greg was almost completely blind. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, and he hated it.

"Um, could I please have my glasses back?" Greg asked timidly, butterflies fluttering in his stomach from the fear of being left without his glasses for any expanse of time, "I can't see anything without them."

Daddy laughed in response.

"Oh, my pet, you only get to see when Daddy says so."

Horrified, Greg dives for where he thought his glasses were, only to find himself perfectly draped over Daddy's lap.

"Oh, Greggy, you need to learn whose in charge!" Daddy said before Greg felt his pants pulled down to his knees and blows begin to rain down on his bottom.

Daddy never returned Greg's glasses that night, and, despite his horror at being effectively blind, all Greg made no attempt to get them back. With a sore bottom, Greg didn't dare cross Daddy again, especially once he realized that he was entirely reliant on the dominant man to care for him.

Over the course of the night, Greg struggled to care for himself. He sat frustrated through the whole movie, unable to tell what was going on.

He stumbled through Daddy's unfamiliar apartment, unable to tell where he was going. He made a mess of himself eating dinner, unable to see the food he attempted to shovel into his mouth or the utensil he was using to feed himself. And worst of all, Greg eventually ended up wetting himself when he couldn't find the restroom in time to relieve himself.

The whole time, Daddy looked on and teased him.

"Careful, big boy! If you're having this much trouble walking, maybe you should crawl?"

"What a messy boy! Looks like a certain someone could use a big!"

"Oh no! Did the big, smarty-pants professor go potty in his pants?"

Over the course of the night, Greg felt more embarrassed and humiliated than he had ever felt before. By removing just one of his possessions, Daddy has functionally reduced him to a small child.

When they parted that night, Daddy gave Greg his glasses back before showing Greg some pictures and videos on his phone. Greg, able to see again, looked on in horror at images of himself covered in food like a toddler, crawling on the floor after tripping, and, worst of all, wetting his pants.

"What do you think all of those smart colleagues you have would think of you if these ever hit the internet?" Daddy asked like a spider who knew it's pretty was now stuck in its web.

"Please, no…" was all Greg could say in response.

After some 'negotiation,' Greg was able to convince Daddy to keep the images private in exchange for Greg's future cooperation.

As Greg left Daddy's house that night, he felt a strange since of dread set in at the prospect of what the beautiful man had in store for him next. He couldn't imagine giving in and losing his personal autonomy like that again.

Pursuant to their deal, Greg kept seeing Daddy after that night. Their dates took on a common form. At the start of each one, Daddy would remove Greg's glasses and take control over the other man. In turn, Greg would find himself fully submitting to Daddy and all of the humiliations he had devised for him. The few times Greg balked at his treatment, a quick trip over Daddy's lap, a reminder of the photos in Daddy's possession, and a threat to set Greg free without his glasses was all that was needed to remind the submissive man of his place in their relationship.

Over time, Greg--the PhD, the intellectual, and the brain--found Daddy taking more and more autonomy from him each time they met. It was painful for Greg, a struggle and hit to his ego each time he lost a part of himself. However, with Daddy's power over him he could do nothing to stop each relinquishment of freedom.

Over time, Daddy started picking the food Greg ate. He found his mature diet replaced with bland Cheerios, dino nuggets, and other foods designed for the picky palates of toddlers. When he complained, Daddy just pointed out it was easier to eat those foods with his fingers, since he couldn't see well enough to use utensils without his glasses.

He began drinking all of his drinks, which had predominantly become milk, out of baby bottles. Daddy told Greg it was to keep him from spilling given his lack of depth perception, but Greg could help but fill like an infant everytime the rubber teat was pressed between his lips.

Having his pants and underwear removed and replaced with pull-ups and, eventually, diapers each time he entered Daddy's apartment was similarly mortifying. Daddy made sure to emphasize the importance of the extra protection each time he dressed Greg in the infantile garments, given Greg's proven inability to make it to the toilet on time (something made worse each time Daddy changed him out of his soggy padding after Greg repeatedly failed to locate the bathroom in Daddy's home).

Daddy also stopped letting Greg pick out his own clothes. Daddy pointed out that the artificially blind man couldn't see them, and Daddy was the one who had to worry about getting Greg's clothes off to change him anyway, so giving Greg the freedom to dress himself just didn't make sense.

However, no matter how much control Daddy took from Greg, at the end of every 'date,' be it for a few hours or a weekend, Daddy would hand Greg his glasses back, returning Greg to the adult world of academia and filling Greg with a sense of hope that maybe, this would be the last time Daddy would call him over to play.

That pattern continued until one day, Daddy finally made the declaration that Greg had been dreading to hear for months.

"Baby boy, I think it's time you moved in with Daddy full time."

Greg started to cry in his place on the floor where he sat on a soft blanket dressed in only a diaper and onesie while failing to stack wooden blocks due to his poor vision.

Greg immediately crawled (walking haven been forbidden after a particularly nasty trip) over to the Daddy shaped blur sitting on the couch and stared up at him with pleading eyes.

"Please no, Daddy? Please! I hate it here! I hate being your stupid little baby!"

Daddy beant down, wrapped his large hand around Greg's cheek and chin before shoving a pacifier between Greg's lips.

"Hush, pet," Daddy growled softly, his face menacingly close to Greg's, "I've made it very clear who is in charge in this relationship. It seems like you need a reminder."

Daddy then harshly pulled Greg over his lap before proceeding to deliver the worst spanking Greg had ever experienced. At the end of it, the apartment was filled with nothing but the sound of Greg's soft sobs and the crinkling of his diaper, as he thought about the ramifications of daring to question Daddy's judgment.

The next few months passed in a blur. After moving into Daddy's house, Greg found himself wearing his glasses less and less.

Deprived of his ability to see, Greg spent more time forced to participate in infantile activities like playing with blocks or trucks or futilely trying to color in a coloring book instead of reviewing the latest literature in his field like he used to.

Greg's coworkers started to notice how the once brilliant, workaholic man's performance had dropped off. Greg was pulled into his boss' office and lectured on his need to improve, but, Greg, who once prided himself on his career success and independence, found himself unable to improve his performance at work given Daddy's humiliating restrictions at home.

After six-months of living together, Greg's boss had had enough and fired his once best employee.

Sitting in Daddy's lap in nothing but a soggy diaper, Greg cried as he told his tormentor about his lose of a job.

"Daddy," he began softly, hesitant for fear of judgment at what was coming next.

"Yes, pet?" Daddy asked Greg, his ever predatory tone dripping from his every word.

"I was, was, was fired today," Greg chokes out between sobs.

Daddy smiled, although Greg couldn't see it. He rubbed Greg's back possessively.

"Oh, did someone's boss finally realize what a soggy little pants wetter he really is? I can't say I'm surprised, but I am ~very~ excited for what that means. You can finally be my diapered little pet full time!" Daddy said triumphantly.

Greg's sobs redoubled at his sudden understanding of the truth in Daddy's words. He tucked his thumb in his mouth, a soothing habit Daddy had long ago trained in him, and continued to cry in his tormentors arms.

Daddy brushed Greg's hair with his fingers, relishing this moment of absolute victory.

"Daddy is so excited for you to be my soggy little pet forever."

Daddy laughed a little as Greg continued to cry before grabbing a small object that Greg couldn't quite make out off the table.

"I guess you won't be needing these anymore. Maybe we should get them mounted for posterity?"

Greg frowned.

"What, Daddy?"

Daddy responded with a guffaw.

"Your glasses!"

Greg felt his heart drop in sudden realization. Daddy was right. As Daddy's permanent pet, he would probably never wear be allowed to wear glasses again. His world was now fated to forever be a blur.

[starboykel]

an artist and his muse ⭑⚝²

pt1

artist! König x chubby!F!reader

!!content warnings: König is younger than canon, pistol mentioning, idk this is just fluff. Chubby reader. Extensive description of how to make a condensed milk cake. Maybe a bit out of character.

3,7k words — English isn't my first language, i apologize for any mistakes.

Since that day, you and König have been talking practically every day through the cellphone, König would often talk about his day and his new projects, sending you photos of the new paintings he was working on and recently, he started a new hobby: learn digital art. He would send you screenshots of his drawings, they were... Certainly something, it wasn't as great because he was used to work on a canvas with paint and such but, he was trying at least.

If he disappeared for 3-4 hours, you were sure he was just working on whatever his mind was thinking of, painting, digital art or even ceramic, yeah, he also started ceramic. He was trying to occupy his mind with something and it was obvious... You just didn't know he was trying to occupy his brain because you were everything in his mind.

König was having trouble painting because he couldn't focus on anything but you, his happiness was texting you everyday and looking at the selfies you send him anytime you were doing something mildly interesting, watching a movie, cooking, baking, oh god, baking, he could kill someone to taste those brownies you baked practically every weekend. He really wanted to ask you out on a date but he didn't have the guts to, you were such a pretty girl, who was he to think he had a chance with such a beautiful girl?

On your side... Well, it was the same. You were too shy to ask him out on a date, he was such a busy guy, he was painting and when he wasn't painting he was training his digital art and when he wasn't training he was doing ceramic, you didn't want to bother him. Your heart skips a beat every time he sends a photo of what he was working on, his face wasn't even on the photos but you were so in love it didn't even take too much to make you kick your feet and smile like a fool...

"Who are you talking to?" Suddenly, your father kicked you out of your thoughts, he was frowning and trying to peek on your phone as you were eating. You were already an adult but old habits never die to your father.

"M...my friend, his name is König." You reply, showing him the conversation, Anton takes a look and nods. "Your boyfriend?" He asks, you blushes slightly and shakes your head, "N-no, he's just a friend." You stutter. He gives you a look like 'yeah, sure' and then goes back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen to finish your lunch.

You didn't have anything to do that day. You wanted to go out with your friends but they were all busy, you didn't have a photoshoot today, no modeling or something, so you would just enjoy the day, just being lazy... So you decided to bake a cake! Why not?

You looked for a recipe on the internet and found one you found interesting, 'Condensed Milk Cake'... Hmm, sounds good! And you have all the ingredients, luckily.

You grab the apron that was probably too old for its own good and protect your hair and start making the cake, it was therapeutic. In a large bowl, you pour the condensed milk, whisk in butter and the vanilla extract, over the bowl, sift four and the baking powder over the condenser milk mixture. After that, you grab the rice cooker, grease the interior with butter and pour in the batter, spreading it evenly in the rice cooker, you decide to top with some chocolate chips, put the cover on and cook for 20 minutes. After waiting, you pick a toothpick and poke the cake, it comes out clean so it means it is ready! You place a plate on top of the rice cooker pot and carefully invert. The scent of vanilla and condensed milk infested the kitchen. It was so good, you were proud of yourself, it looked delicious!

Your father walks in the kitchen, "What are you doing?" He asks, frowning slightly before he sees the cake, "Oooh, it looks good. Gimme a slice." He picks a knife and goes to cut the cake but oh no, your father didn't have the reputation of being the best cake cutter.

"Waaaaait!" You shouts, trying to stop him but your father was a man on a mission. He cuts a huge part out of the cake and walks away, you can practically see the evil smile on his face as he goes to his room, leaving you with less than a half of the cake... Goddamnit.

You sigh and decide to take a photo of the... Half cake you have, you grab your phone and try to get the best angle of it but yeah, a cake cut in half wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing thing ever.

Eating a slice of the cake while watching something was a pleasing experience at least, watching some old humoristic sitcom your father had on DVD since the 90s that he refused to get rid of was nice at best. You hear a notification coming from your phone and check it... It was König!

'Hallo, are you free tonight? I would be pleased to have dinner with you.'

You found it amusing how he always wrote it grammatically correctly, you could've never, sometimes you just forget how to write some words.

'Yeah, I'm free! Where do u wanna meet?'

'Meet me at the park, I am going to take you to the restaurant from there, at 7pm. Don't be late.'

You smile, he was always so assertive and direct sometimes, it was nice though, at least he wasn't confused about what he wanted and treated you well.

You start getting ready at 5pm, showering, doing your makeup, choosing the best clothing, fixing your hair, airdrying it and, oh god it's already 6:56pm! You run out of the house, forgetting to bring your lip oil.

You go to the park and look around for König, it was 7:04pm. You feel a cold hand on your shoulder, looking over your shoulder...

"Oh, hi Kö! How are you?" It was König! He didn't seem mad at you, good. He smiles and gives you a little pat on the head.

"I'm fine. Let's go to my car." Simple as ever. He takes your hand and leads you to the car, opening the car door for you. You two make small talk in the car on the way to the restaurant. He was wearing some nice clothes, a white button shirt that was rolled up to his elbow, black tailored pants with a belt and black shoes. It was minimalistic and he looked good on it. You could see some scars on his arms, that was interesting, maybe he wasn't always an artist.

The restaurant was nice, had a warm atmosphere and some relaxing jazz music playing. You order some alfredo pasta and chicken with some orange juice, he orders steak with onion, rice, salad, some rustic potatoes and... You lost track of the list after that, he was a bottomless pit. Oh, he ordered some apple juice for himself too.

"So, what do you like to do in your free time? When you're not doing paintings and such." You were the one to start the conversation, noticing that Konig was more of the quiet type and that, depending on him, the date would be mostly silence and eating.

"I enjoy... Uh... I enjoy television shows, I watch it when I'm... I'm not doing art..." He stuttered, not looking at you directly, you noticed that he was very nervous, his hands shaking, it was very different from the man you met before. Maybe you were starting to get under his shell.

Your soft smiles didn't help much. His mind was going a mile a second, his hand shaking and his body couldn't relax, he felt like everyone was staring at him, why wouldn't they? He's on a date with a cute girl while he looks like this giant freak, you probably don't even like him, you're just with him because you pity him youcangetsometingbetterthanhimyou—

"König?" Your soft voice slaps him out of his trance, his eyes focusing on your worried expression, "Are you okay? You seem... I don't know—" "I'm fine." He cuts you off, his hands still fidgeting underneath the table.

You were a bit confused and even a little shocked. He was so serious, confident before and now he's shaking like a wet cat. Well, he's trying to hide it but it's obvious, someone his size can't hide. You decide it's best to let him relax, stay silent for a while, let him recompose.

Well... His brain was going miles an hour, waiting for YOU to say something, to talk about something YOU like, maybe you could even forget he's there and just ramble away his anxiety... But that doesn't happen. He's waiting for you to talk and you're waiting for him to speak. Both so awkward, his anxious behavior getting into you, where you are scaring him? Why? What have you done? Did you do something that made him uncomfortable? Doeshenotlikeyouanymore-

Then, the waiter arrives after what felt not even a second, you swear you had just ordered not even 10 minutes ago. The waiter places your order in front of him and two of König's extensive list of food, the potatoes and the beef. The orange juice being placed in the middle for the both of you.

He awkwardly starts cutting his beef, the cutlery was so small in his hands that it made a task as simple as cutting a steak difficult. You eat your pasta, staring at nowhere as your mind is non stop thinking that you did something wrong. You both reached for the orange juice glass, his fingers touching yours before he flinched his hand away, just reassuring that he was scared of you on your worried brain.

The rest of the date was... Not cozy, just two looked like two pathetic wet cats that didn't know where their mama went and was scared of the world. He pays for everything, even if you insisted that you had money. You two step out of the restaurant, some significant distance from each other, and just... Staying there, waiting for the one another to say something.

"Look-" "I'm sorry-" You two speak up at the same time, eyes meeting in an anxious atmosphere, silence remains for a few seconds. "Hear-" "I apologize-" Interrupting one another again, the atmosphere getting tenser and tenser, you both take a deep breath, taking a step closer to each other. He let you talk first.

"I'm sorry, I'm not aware of what I did but I apologize for making you uncomfortable." You speak up, playing with the hem of your clothes as you try to sound not nervous.

He frowns slightly before sighing and nodding, "I'm the problem. You're not the problem, I've always been this... Social awkward, since I was a teenager. It's not your fault." He reassures, taking a step closer... Closer... Closer until he's right in front of you. He looks at you... "It's going to snow, you should go home." Before he lifts your chin and gives you a forehead kiss...

Then he turns around and walks away, you don't know that but he's panicking inside, his hands shaking and his heart beating like a drum, his face red as a tomato... That man saw you naked and is flustered because he gave you a forehead kiss! Men...

Well, you were blushing too, your mouth opened slightly in shock... The snow starts to fall, the cold feeling makes you feel even hotter inside, it has just started. You didn't know what to do so you do the same as him, you turn around and walk home... No, you can't do that. You stop in your tracks, turn back and start running towards him.

"König!" You shouts, making him stop and turn to see you. You don't know what you're doing and why but you feel like you need to do this. You reach him, panting, you weren't used to exercising. "I'm- I'm-" "You don't need to be sorry, it's okay." He cuts you off.

"No, that's not it, I-i... I-" You look up at him and you just... Can't finish your phrase, he's so handsome your heart beats and your brain stops.

He smiles softly and ruffles your already messy hair, "You shouldn't stay outside, you're gonna catch a cold... Wanna go to my place?" He speaks up, and honestly, he's being too damn bold, his heart feels like it's gonna explode out of his chest, he's trying to keep this cool guy persona but... That's not him.

You definitely didn't want to freeze outside so... "Y-yeah, sure." You nod. He takes your hand and starts walking to his car. This all feels too... Unbelievable... Damn, you're going to a guy's house after the first date? What are you? You silently judge yourself but König isn't like other guys... You hope.

The car ride back to his place was silent, some random song in German playing on the radio. His car was fine, definitely not the best or the most expensive but also not the cheapest, it was a nice car that had the necessary to live. When arriving at his place, the snow was already filling the streets with its soft whiteness, he opens the door and gets inside after you. The place was... Nice? It was a bit messy but it was comfortable.

"Make yourself at home. The TV has a little sound problem but nothing that will bother you, I'm going to take a shower, there's a few snacks in the drawers in the kitchen if you feel hungry." He welcomes you, giving you a faint smile before going to his bedroom.

You look around... Should you explore? Yeah, why not? As soon as the shower starts, you begin to wander around the house. The drawers were filled with snacks and the fridge with water, milk and egg... Nothing else. How did this man lived? Whatever. You go to the living room and turns on the TV, putting on your favorite show, yeah, the sound definitely has a problem but your ears would probably get used to it, it was some sort of faint static it could be heard on the background but whatever. As you wander through the house, the drawer closes to the door catches your eye, you open it and... A pistol and a dog tag. Your eyes widen slightly but then you frown, you take the dog tag and before you can read anything in it, a hand rips the dog tag from yours, your heart falls, your face going pale.

You gulped and looked at König, his face was dark, his eyes filled with disappointment, your eyes immediately went back to the drawer, not wanting to look at him, your hands shaking. He sighs and throws the dog tag back in the drawer and closes it. "Forgot to lock it."

You two stay silent for a while, before you murmur an "Sorry." Nervously. He shakes his head, "Don't be. It's okay to be curious... Just don't do it again." His voice was deep and dark, like if he was giving an order...

"... I'm gonna order some pizza. We can watch a movie, c'mon." He tries to sound more excited as he pulls you by the waist, leading you to the couch. You were still shocked, but trying to relax as you do breathing exercises. He tried to make small talk but you were still thinking about the pistol and the dog tag...

The pizza arrives not long after, he picks it up and goes back to the couch, placing the pizza on top of the living room mini table and putting on some movie on Netflix.

The silence was uncomfortable, the pizza munching sounds not helping. After half an hour, he pauses the movie and looks at you. "I have to explain something to you." He says in a serious tone. You look back at him and gulps, nodding.

He takes a deep breath, "I used to be a soldier, a lieutenant. I was in the army from 17 to 29, almost 30. I retired earlier because of my mental health, it was killing me from the inside." He puts his hand on his chest, "I had no choice. I've done a lot of things that shouldn't have been done and I regret it with my heart."

"You're... A war criminal...?" You ask, the tone quiet and uncertain. He shakes his head, "No... No, not that I'm aware at least." He chuckles nervously, looking away, "I've... Killed a lot of men. My hands are filled with blood... But I've never wanted it, I never wanted to be a soldier, to kill people. I've always loved art, and I'm doing what I want, what I love now and I can't escape my past, it doesn't matter where I go. My soldier self is part of me, I can't get away from it." He vents, his tone getting sadder and more self aware.

You nod, taking a breath and sighing, "I don't know how it feels, how it is to have such a hard backstory... Are you in therapy at least?" You ask and he nods, "I take meds.. I don't want to talk about it."

Nodding, you sigh, "I understand... I'm sorry for sneaking in your things, I shouldn't have done that." You clench your fists and look at your lap, feeling trapped, disappointed at yourself... Until, he takes your chin and lifts your face to look at him. "It's okay." He says, softer, making your heart beat faster. He gets closer... Closer... Closer, until your lips touch his. You immediately kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He smiles on the kiss and takes you closer by your waist until your legs are on his lap. The kiss is soft, like a make-up kiss, warm.

You were the one to break the kiss, your eyes meeting his... And he panics, "Oh verdammt— es tut mir leid— I'm sorry, you're just so pretty and I'm so awkward, I'm-" He freaks out, immediately taking his hands out of your waist. You smile and giggle.

"It's okay, I liked it." You take him by the cheek, making him look at you. "You- you did?" He asks, not believing you. You nod and smile, "Yeah." "Y-yeah?" "Hell yeah!" You giggles and kisses him, you taking the lead now. This one was much more playful than intense as the last one, you break the kiss a few times because you were giggling and he starts giggling too. He pulls you closer as he lays down on the couch, you getting on top of him. You two start laughing, apparently for no reason at all.

After relaxing, you two just cuddled, he was warm and you even warmer due to your weight. It was comfortable and the closeness was making the heart of the both of you relax. Him giving you forehead kisses from time to time. "Hey... You wanna sleep here?" He asks and you nod, "Sure, why not."

The night falls and you were used to showering before sleeping and you definitely needed one... But you had no clothes to wear! He was okay with sharing the bed with you and you didn't want to smell bad. So you asked for some of his clothes, he at first laughed but then gave you a shirt and some boxers.

For some reason, the water of his shower was freezing cold and had no heating option, so poor you. His shirt was bigger than your, that was rare, that never happened with your exes, it was nice to now have someone that was bigger than you, it makes your heart warm... and the boxers a bit loose but fitted better than the shirt, you put your hair on a bun with a satin scrunchie and go to lay with him. The heater was on so that was nice. "Goodnight." You tell him before he turns off the lights and lays next to him.

..."Can we cuddle? You're warm and I like your weight on top of me..." He asks a bit shyly, your heart beating faster. You look at him and nod, snuggling closer to him, he pulls you closer, getting you slightly on top of him. "Goodnight." "Night..." And you both fall asleep.

When you woke up he was already up. You stretch and yawn, going to the kitchen after fixing your hair (or trying) and he was already there, eating his breakfast. His eyes light up as he sees you, "Morning. I made breakfast! Eat!" He says, sounding excited. You smile and join him, it wasn't the best but it was good enough.

You two spend the afternoon together, watching movies, chatting, playing in the snow. At night, you were ready to go home. He drives you to your place, and in the door, he kisses you goodbye.

You get in the house, very happily, smiling widely and your father notices, he smirks. "Just a friend, uh?" He teases and you chuckle. "Boyfriend now, dad." You correct him playfully and he rolls his eyes.

"I knew it.”

Sorry, this took too long!! I was in a creativity block and didn't know what to do but i hope this is fun to read!!! Love yall, stay safe, xoxo from Kel. Feel free to send me asks!

[sjsmith56]

A Better Man, Part 10 - Walkthrough

Summary: A year later two momentous occasions are pending. First, the three partners of Shield Renovations await the dropping of all charges against them. Secondly, there is a wedding soon to happen.

Length: 4.7 K

Characters: Bucky, Steve, Sam, Winnifred, Andrea, Lily, Natasha, Bruce.

Warnings: Fluffy fluff with a final touch of anxiety from Bucky.

Author notes: I hope you liked this mostly sweet story of a shy man falling for the right woman. Although there was some darkness, it also showed Bucky’s qualities that made him the better man.

<<Part 9

Part 10

One year later

The three partners sat in Bucky's office late on a Friday afternoon, waiting nervously.  The courier was supposed to bring the confirmation directly to them but according to Hope Van Dyne, he had left the District Attorney's office well over an hour ago. 

"Maybe he got into an accident," said Sam, cracking his knuckles and getting glares from his two friends at the sounds.  "Well, why else would he be late?  Don't those guys go all out on their bikes?  It's gotta be that or someone trying to stop us getting cleared completely.  Pierce could still have people on his payroll."

"You watched that movie again, didn't you?" asked Steve, rolling his eyes.  "That Premium Rush one?  There are no corrupt cops wanting to screw us over, okay?  Both Natasha and Maria said that as far as the NYPD is concerned, we're reformed.  They're all rooting for us, plus ever since we did Tom Benson's renovation, he's managed to refer a dozen other clients to us.  Our reputation is sterling."

"It will be fine," said Bucky, searching his pockets in vain.  He looked at Steve.  "Give me some gum, will you?"

He reached into the chest pocket of his Shield Renovations and Construction polo shirt, pulling out a package of gum and handing a strip to Bucky.  Another hand appeared in front of him, and he placed one in Sam's hand before taking one himself.  Although all three of them gave up smoking, they still needed a substitute vice when they were stressed, and gum was the vice of choice.  They sat quietly, chewing away, then the door opened, and Hope came in with a large envelope.

"It's here," she said. 

Bucky put his hand out, taking it from her, then she left.  At the time he hired her it was because Mrs. Parker said she was swamped but in reality, Hope Van Dyne was her hand-picked choice to replace her.  Knowing that the operation was close to being wrapped up, Mrs. Parker had stumbled across the capable administrative assistant on her daily commute, befriending her and offering her consolation over the antics of the younger woman's employer.  Even though May Parker contemplated retiring from the FBI to continue working with the company, another undercover assignment was offered to her and she felt compelled to accept it.  The last they heard she was working at a private golf club and resort in Florida, keeping an eye on a retired high-level politician who seemed to have a lot of foreign dignitaries visiting him at all hours of the day and night. 

"Are you going to open it, or what?" asked Sam, interrupting Bucky's thoughts.

With an irritated glance at his friend, Bucky opened the envelope and pulled out three sheets of paper, handing one each to Sam and Steve.  They all read the words on the papers then at each other, slowly smiling.

"We're good," said Sam.  "Fury has come through.  We're completely legit!"

"We can travel," said Bucky.  "I was worried that it wouldn't come through before the wedding and we couldn't go on our honeymoon."

"I can propose now," said Steve, then he blushed.

"Wait, what?  You're proposing to Natasha?  Does she know?  Maria never said anything about a proposal."

"Of course, she doesn't know," answered Steve, pushing Sam in the arm.  "Dumbass.  It's a proposal.  It's supposed to be a surprise."

Sam rubbed his arm, then grinned, offering his hand to Steve.  "Congratulations, man.  She had you wrapped around her finger from the very start."

"She did not.  What about you and Maria?  You wanted her to move in within a month."

"Did not.  Her lease was ending, and I was being nice."

Bucky watched and listened to their bickering, then crumpled up a post-it note and threw it at Steve.  His two friends stopped talking, switching their attention to him. 

"Now that we have our confirmation that the charges are all dropped and expunged, I'm going home," he said, standing up.  "I'm going to hug my daughter, read her a story and tuck her in, then take my almost wife to bed."

"You can't," said Steve.  He ran his hand through his hair.  "You're coming out with us for your stag.  It's all arranged.  Andrea knows that you'll probably crash with me tonight."

"Guys ... I didn't want one."

"I know, but the troops did and a good general always supports his troops.  Just so you know, we're meeting at a sports bar that has twenty different burgers, a hundred different beers, and games galore.  No strippers, no hookers, nothing that you or we would ever be ashamed of."  He gestured at Bucky's company shirt.  "I have something for you to change into."

He left, coming back with one of Bucky's favourite shirts.  With a sigh, Bucky changed, while Steve and Sam changed theirs.  They locked up, since Hope had already left, and headed to where they could hail a taxi.  After a short ride they arrived at their destination and made sure that Bucky walked in ahead of them.  It was full of every guy who worked for them, including Thor, and Peter Quill.  A beer was put into Bucky's hands, then Steve stood on a chair, holding his beer up.

"In a week, Bucky gets married to Andrea, a woman that stole his heart from the first moment he saw her.  Sam and I met her two weeks before, quite by accident as she was taking her baby girl, Lily, out for a walk.  We were having a smoke break, and this breath of fresh air approached us, then stopped, smiled, and asked where the nearest park was.  Sam, being the smooth operator he was, asked about Lily, then gave Andrea advice about child raising, based on his experiences as uncle to his sister's two boys.  She thanked him and walked away, leaving us feeling a little colder and in the dark without her presence.  Two weeks after that, Bucky joined us, and it was like a light went on in his head and his heart.  Those of you who witnessed this special time knew that he was a changed man.  In his opinion, he's become a better man since then.  To our better man, Bucky Barnes."

They all repeated it and drank to him.  He smiled shyly and looked at all of them.

"After my surgery, we decided to change the name of Barnes Contracting to something new.  It was Andrea who suggested Shield Renovations and Construction.  She said the shield would represent protection, something that she felt with us.  She told me of how you all waited at the hospital during my surgery and told stories about us, about how we gave you all a second chance to be better men.  Obviously, you all wanted it, because you bought into our limited scope of operations and when we went legitimate you stayed with us.  We wouldn't be where we are today without you all.  Thank you for believing in us and in yourselves.  We're only as good as the people who work for us, and right now, I think we have the best of men as our employees."

He drank more of his beer, then received many handshakes and shoulder squeezes from everyone as they began to party.  For several hours Bucky nursed his beers, drinking only three in total.  After making sure Steve and Sam got home okay, he took a taxi to the brownstone and paid the driver, looking up at the building in the dark.  He sat on the top step and opened his phone, flipping through the gallery of photos he took of the renovation, finished seven months before.  In many ways it was a record of the second part of his and Andrea's relationship.  The job became a labour of love as he steered the renovation alongside her, making sure she was involved in all the aspects of doing it right, the first time. 

Everything new had to be done to last a lifetime, and everything old that he kept from the original had to be restored to the highest quality.  When the project was finished, and they took the walkthrough together before moving her furniture back, she turned to him. 

"You are moving in with me, right?" she asked.  "This is all so beautiful, that you must have done some of it for yourself."

"It was all for you, but I am moving in with you," he replied.  "My apartment was what I thought Dot wanted, and I stayed there because it cost a lot.  It was more of a home with you and Lily there but this is the home I want to live the rest of my life in."

He placed his hand casually in his pocket, feeling the edge of the ring box, then drew it out, when her back was turned as she opened the butler's pantry door and went inside.  When she came out, he was down on one knee, with the box opened towards her, and she gasped in surprise.

"Will you marry me?  Will you stand with this former criminal and keep me on the good path that I've tried to stay on since I met you?  Will you let me be Lily's father in name and not just practice?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," she replied without hesitation.  "I'll marry you.  The path is wide enough that you'll never fall off, not with me at your side.  As for Lily, Brock has given up his rights to her.  He never wanted her, except for the money she would bring him."

As he slid the vintage engagement ring onto her ring finger, he gazed at her face, then stood up.  When she looked up at him, he saw only love, something he never saw with Dot.  That was the night they made love for the first time, a perfect melding of hearts, souls, and flesh that made his dick thicken as he thought of it.  Even though they picked up their relationship from where they left off, he didn't push Andrea into anything she wasn't ready for.  Some of their make out sessions became steamy but, in his heart, Bucky knew they would be together in every way when the time was right.  Waiting just made their first time incredibly special.

The selfie of them in the kitchen with her showing off her engagement ring was the last of the renovation pictures.  Sighing as he closed the gallery Bucky thought of when he sold his apartment condo, paid his mother back for the renovations and invested the rest, including starting up a college fund for Lily.  In the seven months they had shared the brownstone he lived as he always wanted, without worry and fear of the law coming after him, with someone he loved more than anything.

Standing up, he entered the code on the door panel, closing and locking the door behind him.  Slipping his shoes off, he hung up his jacket in the closet and made his way up to the second floor.  Checking in on Lily first, he grinned at how she was sprawled out in her "big girl" bed.  At 19 months she was walking and talking, and still just as friendly to almost everyone she met.  The guys at the warehouse loved seeing her whenever Andrea stopped by.  It was hilarious watching a bunch of grown men trying to entertain her by making goofy faces and sounds to get her attention.  She had her favourites; Clint, the father of three who was now their foreman, and Scott, who was in a serious relationship with Hope.  He knew magic and could make Lily laugh and clap her hands at his simple tricks.   Surprisingly, at least to Bucky, she liked Luis, who was teaching her Spanish, even bringing some Spanish language children's books to the warehouse to read to her whenever she climbed up on his lap.  Of course, she had soft spots for her godfathers Sammy and Steeby.  Every time they were over at the house, she went from one to the other, scamming them out of candy or money.  His mother's love for the little girl was as strong as if she had been related by blood.  Nana always got hugs and kisses, giving them back in turn.  If only Andrea's parents saw her more, it would be perfect.  Although they had finally met there was still an element of disapproval from her mother, over their daughter being a single mother, living with a man who was not the father of her child, even though the biological father was an absolute bastard.  On the other hand, her father had tried since that meeting to stay in touch with Andrea, often coming over and doting on Lily.

Moving towards his daughter, Bucky gently tugged the blanket over her, then put a stuffed animal under her arm.  Kneeling down, he kissed her on the head and whispered his usual saying to her.

"Sleep tight, little star.  In the morning, I'll catch you in my hand and make a wish to love you forever and always."

Getting up from his knees, he stood at the doorway again, basking in the love he felt for this toddler.  From there he quietly entered the bedroom and stepped into the ensuite bathroom to remove his clothes and brush his teeth.  He always kept a pair of sweatpants on a hook and put them on, then slipped under the bed covers, spooning behind Andrea.  She made the sweetest sound when he draped his arm over her waist.

"I thought you were staying at Steve's?"

"I only had a few beers, so I came home.  Besides, he snores when he's had too much."

She rolled over, kissed him sweetly on the mouth, then snuggled into his chest.

"I'm glad you're home.  It was hard to get to sleep without you.  Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was good to see everyone outside of work.  Thor and Peter Quill were there as well."  He kissed the top of her head.  "In a week we'll be married."

He could feel her smile forming on his chest, then she looked up at him again.

"Are we going to announce the baby?"

"I think we should wait.  You're only six weeks along.  Although they'll probably figure it out when you don't drink any alcohol."

"Probably," she yawned.  "Natasha thinks Steve might be proposing to her.  She said he's been acting quite mysterious lately.  Did he say anything to you?"

He couldn't help but smile.  If he lied, Andrea would know it.  If he didn't lie and she told Natasha, Steve wouldn't be happy with him.

"It was brought up, but he won't say when it's going to happen.  You're not going to tell her, are you?"

She didn't answer but by her regular breathing he could tell she was asleep.  He didn't even get a chance to tell her about the charges being dropped.  That could wait until the morning.  He kissed her head again and closed his eyes, feeling like he was the luckiest man in the world.

💍 💐

One week later

Having his head down between his knees wasn't helping Bucky breathe, even as his mother rubbed his back soothingly.  Sam and Steve stood there, wringing their hands, hoping that their friend wasn't about to pass out just 10 minutes before his wedding.  Winnifred looked up at the two of them.

"Get him some water," she said.  "Send Dr. Banner in."

"Yeah, good idea," said Steve, relieved at the suggestion.  "Sam, you get the doctor, and I'll get the doctor."  Sam looked at him, then slapped him lightly upside the back of his head.  "What the hell?"

"We can't both get the doctor," replied the other man.

"Boys, focus," said Winnifred.  "Sam, you get the water.  Steve, you get the doctor.  Go."

She shook her head.  For 34-year-old men, they still had their dumbass moments where they acted 14. 

"I don't know why I'm like this," gasped Bucky.  "I want to get married.  I love Andrea and want to be with her.  I feel almost like I did whenever I saw blood.  Ma, why is this happening now?"

How he got that torrent of words out when he could barely breathe made no sense to Winnifred, but she wasn't about to call her son out on it.  He always had been a sensitive soul, and she was sure this had something to do with it.  Bruce Banner arrived first, accompanied by Steve. 

"What's the problem?" he asked.

"He feels like he's going to faint," said Winnifred.  "Said it's like whenever he saw blood before."

"Bucky, do you feel like you're going to vomit?" asked Banner.

"Yes ... no, I don't know.  I just don't feel right, like I'm going to pass out at any moment."

"Hey, look at me."  Bucky raised his head.  "Tell me three things that you see."

"Um, the chair ... the mirror ... um, um, the carpet."

"Good," smiled Bruce.  "Now, three sounds.  What can you hear, right now?"

Bucky breathed in heavily.  "My breath.  The sound of music outside."  He focused more on Dr. Banner.  "A siren, far away."

"Excellent.  Just breathe, steady in for five then out for five.  Now I want you to move three body parts.  Can you do that?"

"Yeah." 

He sat up and moved his head from side to side.  Then he clenched and unclenched his fists.  Finally, he stuck his feet out in front of him, then brought them back to their original position.  Sam appeared with the water.

"I had to wait for the bartender to show up ... oh, you look better." 

He gave the water to Bucky, who nodded his head and sipped it, then took a longer drink.  He kept breathing in and out, following Dr. Banner's example.  The older man patted him on the shoulder.

"Feel better, now?"

"Yeah, I do.  Thanks."

"No problem.  It was just a little bit of anxiety you were feeling.  If it happens again try the 3-3-3.  Three things you can see, three things you can hear and move three body parts.  It redirects your brain to stop the anxiety.  Works every time."  The doctor stood up.  "Just give him a couple of minutes.  Winnie, are you walking him down the aisle?"

"I am now," she said.

"Just support him.  He'll be fine once he gets to the front.  I have to say this is a nice place for a wedding.  Very picturesque."

He left and Winnifred kept rubbing Bucky's back.  Finally, he nodded and stood up. 

"Okay, let's get married."

The wedding planner arrived to tell them it was time.  Together, they walked to where the outdoor ceremony was set up in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.  Sam and Steve walked towards the officiant first, positioning themselves at the front, then Bucky walked out with his mother, stopping at the first row of chairs to kiss her on the cheek, before he joined his friends.  Then Natasha and Maria appeared, with Lily in front of them, her tiny hands holding a basket of flower petals.  As When You Wish Upon a Star played, the little girl, wearing a lacy pink dress, scattered her petals, stopping to put some in people's hands along the way.  Bucky felt his heart in his throat, as his lips trembled, seeing his daughter taking her roll so seriously.  Then she saw him.

"Dada," she cried, dropping the basket, and running to him, making everyone swoon at the sight, as he picked her up and kissed her.

"You stay with me, and we'll watch Mama together, okay?"

She nodded then pointed to where Andrea waited while the music to A Groovy Kind of Love started.  He laughed at first, then began to cry at how beautiful she looked.  She stood alone at the other end, then she looked to one side and was joined by her father.  Kissing her on the cheek, he walked her down the aisle, a big grin on his face.  There were more kisses when she arrived to where Bucky stood, from her dad to her and Lily, then a handshake to the groom. 

For such a memorable moment in his life, Bucky could never remember much of the ceremony itself.  He remembered how Andrea looked while they gazed at each other as if they were the sun, moon, and stars personified.  He remembered saying "I do" and putting the wedding band on her finger but everything else was a blur until they kissed.  Lily had already wiggled out of his arms to go to his mother, making everyone laugh.  When he was told he could kiss the bride he placed his hands on Andrea's cheeks, then kissed her softly and sweetly, wanting it to last forever. 

More flower petals were tossed at them as they walked down the aisle and led everyone to the pool beside the Palm House, set up for cocktails.  They left briefly for photographs amongst the flowers blooming nearby.  When the late afternoon turned into the evening, and the light became more golden as sunset approached, the Palm House was opened for the reception.  The glass walled structure, filled with more colourful flowers, and festooned in fairy lights, seemed magical in appearance.  Lily was entranced by it and clapped her hands in pure joy.

The first dance for the couple was to You Make Me Feel Brand New, the third song they ever danced to when Andrea had to nudge Bucky into finally kissing her.  Everyone who had been there from the start of Bucky and Andrea's relationship, watched with soft smiles on their faces at the tenderness between the couple.  That song was the one most suited for the wedding dance, although the other two songs made it to the set list.  It wasn't all 70s and 80s music, as they made sure there was something for everyone, including some sultry Spanish style songs that brought out Steve and Natasha, in a repeat of the first time they danced. 

If anyone noticed that Andrea wasn't drinking, they didn't say anything, although Winnifred and several others suspected that Lily would have a sibling early in the new year.  The toddler held out for a long time, dancing with her parents and with anyone she asked.  No one turned her down.  When she finally conked out, a bed of sorts was made for her using a cushioned bench and Steve's borrowed jacket as a blanket.  She slept there, oblivious to everything around her, until her parents made their goodbyes, and Winnifred lifted the little girl up in her arms, carrying her out to the limousine that took them home to her apartment. 

The party went on for some time.  Steve, after a quite energetic dance with Natasha, suggested they go out to the pool to cool off.  They sat on a bench on the far side of the pool, overlooking the dark water, which reflected the lights coming from the Palm House. 

"What a great wedding," she smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.  "This was such a beautiful place to have it."

"It was," he agreed, looking up at the night sky.  "We could have a great wedding here."

"You have to ask me first," chuckled Natasha.

He looked at her.  "I'm asking."

It took her a moment to respond then she lifted her head up to look at him, aware that she could hear her heart beating loudly in her ears.

"What are you asking?"

"If you'll marry me.  I think we could have something amazing together."

It was what he said to her the night of their first date.

"Yeah?"  She swallowed.  "Maybe, but there are complications."

He tilted his head slightly, smiling at that answer.  "You already married?"  She shook her head.  "Engaged?" 

"I could be, to the right guy."

"Natasha, I'm the right guy for you.  I knew it from the first moment I saw you standing inside our office.  I wanted you then and I want you for the rest of our lives."  Gently, he traced her jaw with his fingertips.  "Say yes to being amazing together.  Say yes to the guy who loves you for the incredible woman you are."

"Steve?" 

"Yeah?"

"Yes.  Now shut up and kiss me."

Pulling her onto his lap, he kissed her fiercely, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.  Reaching into his pocket, he brought out the ring box and opened it.  Natasha almost stopped breathing at the size of the diamond.  She knew business was good, but this....

"It's not hot, is it?"

"Baby, I'm a legitimate businessman now.  This didn't fall off a truck.  Legally bought and paid for."

She admired it on her hand, then they stayed out there for some time, kissing and enjoying each other's company.  When Sam appeared across the pool to say they had to close things up, he grinned at them, knowing that he would be repeating his own version of a proposal soon. 

🌃 🌌

In the hotel room, Bucky, and Andrea, were catching their breath, laying on top of the rumpled duvet with their legs intertwined and her head on his chest.  Their wedding clothes, strewn everywhere, weren't a priority, until his phone signalled a text message.  Climbing off the bed, Bucky picked up his jacket, searching for the phone but it wasn't in any of the pockets.  My pants, the phone must be in my pants.  Where are they?

Andrea watched with amusement as he looked for his pants, then she got up and lifted her dress up from the floor, pulling his pants out from underneath it and reaching inside one the pockets to retrieve his phone, placing it in his hand.  He grinned, kissed her, then opened the message, which he showed to Andrea. 

Steve:  She said yes.

"What should I say?" he asked.

"Congratulations, now go celebrate," suggested Andrea.  "Then come back to bed and put it on silent."

He sent the message, put the phone on silent and tossed it onto a chair.  Climbing back on the bed, he hovered over his wife, then stopped.  His wife ... this woman was his wife and in the new year, she would be the mother of his child.  How did he get so lucky?

"You okay?" she asked.  "You were somewhere else for a moment."

"I was right here, thinking of how lucky I am that I have you in my life.  You changed me, changed everything for the better when you walked past Barnes Contracting."

She shook her head, caressing her face. 

"All I did was take Lily for a walk.  Grandma said it was important to know the neighbourhood and your neighbours."  She shrugged.  "I just figured it would be good to know who had businesses in the neighbourhood as well.  She was a teacher and knew lots of people."

"What was your grandma's name?"

"Lily Dugan," she answered.  "She was a widow.  My grandpa, her husband, died when I was little.  She always said there was no better man than him.  That's how I feel about you."

Bucky felt a lump in his throat.  Dugan was the name of his dad's friend, who worked with him at Barnes Contracting.  He remembered him, a big burly man with a large moustache and genial attitude who always made him laugh, even after the incident.  Then suddenly, he wasn't around anymore, and his parents were sad for some time.  Was it a coincidence or fate that brought Andrea past the very building her grandfather had worked at?  It didn't matter, not in the long run.  Placing one hand on Andrea's, he moved it so he could kiss her palm, then laid with his head on her chest as she ran her hand through his hair.  He was right where he wanted to be; in the arms of the woman he loved, the woman he would always say made him a better man.

THE END

Series Masterlist

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[lachencha]

Cien Años: Anya Mouthwashing x Reader

Please enjoy! I hope you guys like it!

Warnings?: Anya kinda having a breakdown, and death :(

I remember when I first met you. We were both in college. I remember when you first passed by me, our eyes met, and you still passed with no regard. But for some reason, in that moment, I found myself drawn to you. Though you didn't see me, I saw you. Though you didn't hear me, I heard you. I thought it was just a crush, but I would've never possibly thought that you would become the sun of my life.

You remember sitting at the same table as her in your anatomy lab. She didn't really talk to you unless it was to ask a question or pass along whatever unit you were studying. But then again, you never made much of an effort to talk to her either. Still, no matter what, you both sat next to each other every lab, a quiet, unremarkable duo. And that was that—or so you thought.

Then the new semester began, and there she was again, in another class with you.

There was no way you could talk to her, you told yourself. No way.

It started with a small conversation—just a casual exchange, the kind you could've had with anyone else. But none of them were her. None of them were Anya.

You soon found her to be ambitious, focused. She knew she wanted to be a doctor, and she'd known since she became a CNA at sixteen. That's when she realized she wanted to help people—anyone, everyone. You admired her for her determination, her heart, and her resilience. You admired her for simply being her.

And that's how it started.

You became friends, meeting at the library to study, sneaking snacks in your bags, and finding the farthest corner where no one would bother you. You tried to stay quiet, when you were together, everything was funny. You almost got kicked out twice before realizing that maybe studying in the dorm rooms was a better option.

Even though your majors were different, studying with her became something to look forward to. Just having someone to keep you on track felt like enough, but you soon found yourself getting distracted.

It was the way she adjusted her glasses. The way she frowned ever so slightly when she lost her page. The way she teased you when she caught you staring. She was mesmerizing. She made you feel things you'd never felt before, things no past girlfriend or boyfriend had ever stirred in you.

She was everywhere—living full-time in your thoughts and your heart. No matter what you did, you always found a way back to her.

With Anya in your life, it felt like there could never be more rainy days. Her smile being enough to pull the sun from the clouds, making everyday a sunny day.

And somewhere along the way, you realized you were falling for her. Desperately. Completely.

You'd never expected it, not on the first day you saw her. You didn't sense it coming. But now it consumed you.

You thought you hid it well. You were sure she hadn't noticed. Anya was always focused—engrossed in her books, attentive in class. There was no way she'd caught on.

But she had.

You weren't as subtle as you thought. The way you tried to brush her hand. The way you laughed and immediately looked to see if she was laughing too. It was written all over you.

And she called you out on it one night.

The glow of the laptop cast soft, shifting light across your faces as the movie played on. You hadn't said a single word in ten minutes. Your gaze kept drifting—no, pulling—to her. The flutter of her lashes, the curve of her cheek, the way her hand rested just a breath away from yours on the blanket.

She adjusts her position, her shoulder brushing yours, and whispers teasingly, "You're not even watching."

Her voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you realized she caught you mid-stare.

Your breath hitched. You could've denied it. Maybe you should have. But there was no point.

She turned slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to face you, the movie forgotten. "If you're going to keep looking at me like that," she murmured, her voice low and steady, "you might as well just go for it."

Your heart pounded. The scent of her strawberry shampoo filled your senses, and every nerve in your body screamed at you to close the gap.

When you finally kissed her, it was everything you imagined—and more.

It felt like the world stopped spinning, like a weight you didn't realize you carried had been lifted. It was a moment you knew you'd never forget.

That was your first kiss. And every time you think of it, you can't help but smile.

After that, you were hers, and she was yours.

It wasn't a fantasy anymore. It was real. And it was everything.

We started off as friends but we were both aware that we could be more. It started with one kiss. One kiss and my life began to feel like a never ending dream. Because with you in my life, there are no rainy days, with your kisses you have erased the scars in my heart. With you, there are no more lonely nights, and they are once again wonderful, knowing that I get to hold you close, and wake up each morning with you.

"When we graduate, where would you want to live? I think I'd want to live in the suburbs," Anya murmurs, shifting closer to you."It's quieter and way better for driving. The apartment is nice, but do you really want to keep hearing our drunk-ass neighbors every night?"

You chuckle and lean your head against hers. "I think I'd like the suburbs too, but wouldn't we still have to drive a lot just to get to work?" You try to calculate the drive times in your head, but her warmth against you makes it hard to focus.

Anya lets out a little laugh, "Yeah, but don't you remember that time we went to that pumpkin patch?"

"The one near Martin County?"

She nods, her face lighting up. "Yes! That one!"

A smile tugs at your lips as you watch her talk about how much she loved that little town. Her eyes shine with excitement, and you can't help but feel your chest tighten. It's in these quiet, unassuming moments that makes you realize just how much you love her. Waking up next to her every morning feels like a gift. Even when she accidentally kicks you awake because she's running late, or when her alarm blares three times before she finally turns it off.

With graduation looming, the two of you spend so much time talking about the future. Right now, it's one of many conversations: Where should you live? What kind of house should you buy? How many pets should you adopt? The questions pile up, but none of it feels overwhelming. With her, the future doesn't feel scary—it feels like something to look forward to.

Whether it's the good or the bad, you love every single part of her. When she almost burned down the kitchen trying to microwave something wrapped in foil. When she was thirty minutes late picking you up from work but made it up to you with your favorite coffee. When she stayed up all night to help you with that essay you couldn't finish. When she cut up fruit for you on a bad day because she knew you needed comfort.

You look at her now, rambling about the pumpkin patch, and you can't help but interrupt.

"I love you, Anya."

She blinks, caught off guard, her lips parting slightly. "Where did that come from?"

You shrug, a soft laugh slipping out. "I don't know. I just wanted to tell you."

Her cheeks flush, but she quickly smirks and lightly slaps your chest. "Don't do that! You scared me for a second."

You laugh and pull her closer, burying your face in her neck as you pepper her skin with kisses. She's laughing too, her hands weakly pushing against you.

Moments like this make everything else fade away. Whatever happens next, you know one thing for certain: you're the luckiest person in the world to love her and be loved by her.

Along with your kisses, give me your sorrows, your sighs, give me your pain. Let me wipe your tears. I'll remind you of your strength, and lift you up when you are low. Because the foundation of our love is stronger than any challenge life throws at us.

"I didn't make it in."

Her voice cracks, barely above a whisper, as she grips the rejection letter, crumpling it in trembling hands.

Your heart shatters at the sight of her tears. Without a second thought, you pull her into your arms, her body collapsing against yours as she sobs. She clings to you like you're the only thing holding her together, her cries muffled against your shoulder. You gently rub circles into her back, hoping it might soothe the ache you know you can't take away.

"It's my second rejection," she chokes out, her words jagged. "I—I can't take the test for another year. What am I going to do?" Her tears fall harder now, streaking her face as despair overtakes her.

You cup her face in your hands, brushing your thumbs across her wet cheeks. "Anya, it's going to be okay. The MCAT is one of the hardest tests in the world—"

She jerks away, shaking her head as fresh tears spill over. "But I worked so hard! Hours, days, weeks! I thought I had it this time! I wasn't even close." Her voice cracks, rising with every word. "How can I be so stupid?" She buries her face in her hands, her words muffled but sharp. "They're going to bar me from taking it because I'm a fucking idiot!"

"Anya, stop—"

"Five more attempts." Her voice drops to a whisper, full of fear and self-loathing. "That's all I have left."

You reach for her hands, gently pulling them away from her face, your heart aching as her shoulders shake. "Anya, listen to me. You're not stupid. You're brilliant. You've worked so hard, and I know how much this means to you. Don't let this stop you. You can try again, and I'll be right here to help you through it. Every step of the way."

Her wide, tear-filled eyes search yours. "You don't think I'm stupid?" she hiccups, her voice trembling.

"I would never think that," you say softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "You're the smartest, most determined person I know. And I know you can make your dreams come true. I believe in you, Anya, and I'll do everything I can to help you."

Her lip quivers, and she nods, finally letting herself melt into your arms again. She buries her face in your chest, her sobs quieter now as you hold her close, cradling her with all the love you can give.

You had me so accustomed to your love, that the biggest challenge for me were the months that I had to be away from you, your hugs, and your kisses. Waiting at home like an abandoned puppy, wishing for you to come back home already.

"I need to talk to you."

You look up from your plate, signaling that she's got your attention.

"I got a job interview." She murmurs, pushing her food around with her fork.

You immediately sense something is off, but you try to mask it.

"That's great! But... what's wrong with the job you have now?"

"Nothing. But this company offers nursing classes. I could train to be a nurse there."

Your brows furrow. "What company?"

She hesitates, then barely gets the words out. "The Pony Express."

You pause mid-bite, the fork hovering in the air. "Wait, isn't that the company that does shipments in space?"

She slowly nods.

"You're not thinking of getting on one of those ships, right?"

Her eyes dart away.

"Anya."

"Shipments only take a few months," she says quickly. "The money is supposed to be pretty good."

"Anya."

"I'll be gone for a little while, but with that check, you wouldn't have to work so much. We could finally get a house together. I could finally—" her voice cracks, "I could finally be something."

You set your fork down and lean back, rubbing the bridge of your nose. "You don't have to—"

"I do!" she snaps, tears spilling over. "Do you think I like being stuck here? Stuck in this same place, day after day, while you go to work with a purpose and I—" She swallows hard. "I can't do it anymore. I need this."

Her words cut deep, and you know she's not wrong, you know it's been killing her. Still, the thought of her being out there, alone, on one of those ships...

"Anya, it's dangerous. You've heard the stories about what can go wrong out there. It's not worth the risk."

"I don't care." Her voice softens, breaking apart. "For once in my life, I want to feel like I'm going somewhere."

You sigh, your shoulders slumping. As much as you hate the idea, as much as it twists in your gut, you can see it in her eyes—this is something she has to do.

"Are you mad at me?" she asks, her voice small.

You shake your head, barely meeting her gaze. "No. I just—" The words catch in your throat, but you push them out. "If this is what you want to do... I'm not going to stop you. I'll support you. No matter what."

She reaches across the table and takes your hand. "Thank you."

Her smile is fragile, but you force one in return. Even if it hurts, you'll stand by her.

And it did hurt.

When she finally stepped onto that damn ship, you told yourself you'd be okay. You told her you'd be okay. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. Every fiber of you wanted to grab her hand and pull her back, beg her not to go. But you didn't. You couldn't. She needed this, and you had promised—promised—to support her no matter what.

The first few days, you checked the clock constantly, imagining where she might be in the vastness of space. The silence between you felt like an eternity. No calls. No messages. Just the void. Seven months, you told yourself. Seven months without hearing her laugh, seeing her eyes light up, or feeling her fingers brush against yours.

It felt like an eternity.

Nights were the worst. The bed seemed colder, emptier than ever, like it was mocking you. Dinner tasted bland, the silence deafening. You'd catch yourself staring at her empty seat, whispering things you wished you'd said before she left.

But when those long, torturous months finally passed, and you saw her standing there on the dock, it was like the world finally started spinning again.

You didn't think—you just ran. Ran through the crowd, past the families and her fellow crew members. You didn't care who saw. You crashed into her, your arms wrapping around her like they never wanted to let go again.

And she didn't care either. No teasing, no scolding. Her lips were on yours before you could even speak, her hands gripping you as tightly as you held her. For a moment, it was like the whole world disappeared—just you and Anya, tangled up in each other.

"I missed you so much," you whispered, your voice cracking. You buried your face against her neck, breathing her in.

"I missed you too," she murmured, her breath warm against your cheek.

When you finally pulled back, your hands stayed on her shoulders, as if to reassure yourself she was real. You smiled through the tears threatening to spill. "Do you want me to take you out? You must be starving after seven months of... whatever you guys eat up there."

She laughed—a real, warm laugh that you hadn't heard in far too long. "I just want to go home."

On the drive, she talked about everything: the fear when the ship launched, the monotony of the days, the quiet moments alone. But then her voice softened.

"The hardest part was being without you," she said, turning to you, her eyes glistening. "The moment I got on that ship, I regretted it. Every single day, I regretted it." She hesitated, her voice catching. "The contract's for two shipments, but after this next one, I'm taking the test again."

You pulled into the driveway and turned to her, your heart swelling. "I'm proud of you, Anya."

She blinked at you, surprised. "For what? I haven't done anything yet."

"For not giving up," you said softly, your smile trembling as you looked at her. "You've always been stronger than you think, Anya. Even when things feel impossible, you keep going. That's what I love about you. No matter how hard it gets, you never stop reaching for what you want."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked down, her hands twisting in her lap. You reached out, gently tilting her chin so she'd meet your gaze.

"I'm proud of you—not because you went to space, or because of what you're planning to do next—but because you never stop trying."

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but the words didn't come. Instead, she just looked at you, her eyes searching yours, shimmering with the tears she refused to let fall.

"Anya," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."

But then she shook her head, a faint, trembling smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "You don't get it," she said, her voice breaking. "It's you. You're the reason I keep going. You're the reason I don't give up."

You didn't think, you just leaned in, your hand cradling her cheek, and kissed her. It was soft at first, careful, almost tentative, but when her hands found your shirt and gripped it tightly, pulling you closer, it deepened.

Nothing else mattered—not the months apart, not the uncertainty of the future. Just the warmth of her lips, the way she breathed your name against your mouth, the feeling of her heart pounding as fiercely as yours.

When you finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against yours, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps.

"I missed this," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

"Me too," you said, your thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "But we're here now. Together."

She smiled again, this time a little stronger, and kissed you once more—this time slower, as if to savor every second.

"Let's go inside," she said softly.

And this time, you didn't argue.

Her next shipment was longer than the first—over a year this time. You knew you'd never get used to the long stretches of time apart, but you clung to her promise. Just this one last shipment, she'd said, and then she'd take the test again. Then she could finally chase her dream. Just one year. You told yourself you could survive one year.

You were driving home from work when the phone call came. At first, you didn't think much of it, glancing at the unfamiliar number on the screen before answering.

"Hello, is this (Y/N) (L/N)?"

"Yes, this is (Y/N)."

"Hello, (Y/N). I'm calling from The Pony Express. We have your number listed as the emergency contact for Anya Musume."

Your stomach dropped. "Is she okay?"

The voice on the other end hesitated—a moment too long. "Are you driving right now?"

Panic clawed at your chest. "Yes! What's going on? Is Anya okay?"

"I'm going to ask you to pull over. Please, for your safety."

Your hands were already trembling as you flicked on your hazard lights and swerved into a nearby parking lot, barely noticing where you ended up. You turned off the car, but your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

"I've pulled over," you said, your voice cracking. "Just tell me—please—is she okay?"

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Then, in a voice carefully measured but edged with regret, the caller spoke.

"(Y/N), Anya was aboard our space freighter Tulpar. A few days ago, we lost contact with the ship following a crash."

You gripped the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turned white. "What do you mean, crash?"

The voice softened, though it didn't waver. "We regret to inform you that the crash was catastrophic. All evidence suggests that there were no survivors, including Anya and the other four crew members. We are currently searching for the wreckage to confirm, but... we believe the loss was total."

It felt as though the air had been sucked from your lungs. For a moment, you couldn't speak. Couldn't even think. And then the words sank in.

"No," you whispered, the denial tearing its way out of your throat. "No, that's not—she promised—"

"I'm so sorry," the voice said quietly. "I truly am."

Your vision blurred with tears, and before you could stop yourself, a sound erupted from your chest—a raw, anguished wail that filled the car. You clutched the wheel as if it could anchor you, but the world around you was already spinning, collapsing, crumbling into nothing.

She was gone. Anya was gone.

The drive home was a blur. You didn't even remember how you made it there, your body moving on autopilot while your mind remained trapped in those words.

No survivors.

You sat in the car for what felt like hours, staring blankly at the steering wheel, as if waiting for the phone to ring again and tell you they'd made a mistake. That she wasn't gone.

But the phone stayed silent.

Inside the house, everything was just as she'd left it. Her favorite mug sat on the counter. The blanket she always curled up with was draped over the couch. The framed photo of the two of you at graduation still sat on the coffee table, her smile so bright and alive.

It felt wrong. It felt impossible.

Your legs gave out beneath you, and you collapsed onto the floor. The air felt heavy, like it didn't want to fill your lungs. You pressed your hands to your chest, as if you could physically hold the pieces of your heart together, but it didn't help.

"She can't be gone," you whispered, your voice trembling. "She can't be gone."

The room was silent, but in your mind, you could still hear her laugh. See the way she'd roll her eyes when you teased her. Feel the warmth of her hand slipping into yours.

You'd told yourself so many times that she was coming back. You'd counted down the days, dreamed about the moment she'd walk through the door again.

But now the only thing you had to hold onto was the echo of a promise she could never keep.

Tears streamed down your face as you curled in on yourself, your body shaking with the weight of it all. The emptiness was unbearable, and yet somehow, it was all you had left.

A few months later, you stood alongside the families of the other crew members at a memorial service. The mother of the young intern cried out, a raw and guttural sound, as her husband clutched her trembling frame. She dropped to her knees, screaming that it was her fault, that she should have never let her son work for the company. Your heart ached as her cries echoed in the air—a mother had lost her son, a sister had lost her brother, a wife had lost her husband. And you... you had lost the love of your life.

The wife of the ship's mechanic placed a trembling hand on your shoulder. The two of you stood there, silent yet bound together by a shared pain—both of you had lost the love of your lives.

"You know," you whispered, voice cracking under the weight of it all, "I was going to propose to her when she came back. I even wrote her a speech. But now—"

The words crumbled in your throat, and she pulled you into a fierce embrace.

"We had so many plans," you said, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "A house. Maybe adoption. So many dreams... why?"

And then there were no words, just the shuddering of your bodies as you wept into each other's arms.

At the end of the service, you found yourself alone at her headstone, clutching a weathered piece of paper. It was meant to be the start of something beautiful—the words you'd planned to say when she came home. Now, they were your farewell.

"I remember the first time you walked past me," you began, your voice trembling. "Our eyes met for just a second before you kept walking, completely unaware of what you'd done to me. In that single moment, I felt something shift—like gravity had finally found its center. You didn't see me, but I saw you. You didn't hear me, but I heard you. At first, I thought it was nothing—just a passing crush—but I never imagined that you'd become the sun of my life."

You paused, the ache in your chest nearly unbearable, but you forced yourself to keep going.

"We started off as friends, but we both knew we could be more. And then there was that kiss—the one that changed everything. It wasn't just a kiss—it was the beginning of a dream I never wanted to wake from. Because with you, there were no rainy days. Your love erased every scar, every ache in my heart. You made the nights less lonely, and the mornings something to look forward to. You were my everything."

Your fingers tightened around the paper as tears blurred your vision.

"I would've given you all of me—your pain, your joy, your burdens—I would've carried them all, just to keep you close. You made me strong. You made me whole. You gave me a love that felt invincible, even when you were thousands of miles away. But now..."

Your voice broke, and the paper slipped from your hand. You fell to your knees, tracing her name etched into the cold, unfeeling stone.

"And now, without you, the world feels empty. But I know, no matter how many years pass, no matter how far I go, you'll always be with me. You're tied to my soul, my existence, in a way that even death can't undo."

"And if I lived a hundred years—or a hundred lifetimes—I would still spend every moment loving you."

This was inspired by the song Cien Años by Pedro Infante, a song about unrequited love, but I mostly was inspired by the last lyric:

“And yet, you remain tied to my existence,

and if I live for a hundred years,

then for a hundred years I’ll think of you.”

It’s a beautiful song! I love being mexican 🇲🇽

hope you guys enjoyed :)

[vidavalor]

re: modern day flashback: That would be so fun! I'm a bit confused, though-- the trip to Edinburgh was to go to The Resurrectionist for the Everyday mystery (& for Aziraphale to go to the graveyard to work on his PTSD)? I do think we're probably going to briefly flash back to *very* modern days-- to after Aziraphale blew up his halo and The Metatron got on the circle floor zoom thing, as Aziraphale seemed to be saying happened the prior night during the morning of the end of 2.06.

We're going to see that Aziraphale told The Metatron to go fuck himself the night before right around the time that Aziraphale gets off the elevator in Heaven and is brought to... The Metatron. Because the one who took on that appearance and showed up with the coffee in The Final 15 is Satan. Hell doing Heaven's punishing for them a la the Job minisode, as Furfur brought up again just before The Final 15. Then, the actual falling part of Aziraphale's fall happens.

Our angel's a demon now but he's about to become the last angel to fall because the concept of Aziraphale being seen as evil is going to be enough to break the brains of every other character in this show enough that it's going to wind up toppling Heaven and Hell by them challenging The Metatron over it. That would be needed to help some people see what they just watched in The Final 15 differently and set us off running for The Finale.

If they want to show us another era that is closer to modern (by comparison to others lol), didn't they want to do the 1980s at one point? That would be fun. Like with anything, it'd have to be short and critical to the story to make it into The Finale but we don't know what else they have in store for us.

re: Bad Omen... Funny you should mention that... *dark snerk* I do think there was a plan for a Bad Omen-- not within the story but the show itself...

Didja notice how damn neat and tidy what I laid out in that post is? Like, suspiciously neat and tidy? I've had the thought that S2 was done in such a way intentionally that it would be possible for it to be concluded as a season or a movie. The asshole was always a ticking time bomb. I'm sure it was planned with options and I'm glad we get an ending but I've plotted story before and this was left in S2 in a perfect place to go either way with a season or a movie. I don't think that was sheer dumb luck.

S2 went deeper and slower in a way the story needed and it might have seemed like nothing was happening at times but everything really was. People mistake fast, action-oriented scenes for story. It's one of the reasons why the Armageddon threat being over so quickly in 1.06 throws some people. They don't realize that all the legwork to build to that quick dispatching of the threat was the slower-paced stuff they were watching the whole season through. The Finale is going to be the same way. People are freaking out about there not being enough time for flashbacks and it's just like... get Crowley & Gabriel to see what's going on and rally the other characters together and once that's in place within the first third of The Finale? They can end the fascist Mr. Potato Head in the length of time of a commercial break because we already spent S2 watching them get to that place.

Would I want more? Sure. Always. I love this show. Since the news of the film broke, though, have I ever been concerned that the film is too short to handle the main story points left and conclude it in a way that people will love? Not for a single second. It's going to be great.

<<The F15 was essentially the end of act 2. We only have the final act to uncover.>>

Exactly. I think people are concerned because they think that S3 was going to be about Jesus judging humanity and it's not. In a lot of Christian traditions, The Second Coming and Armageddon are more two parts of a whole rather than being the same thing. In order to get to the Jesus part, the war of Armageddon has to already be fought and won. In Good Omens, that would mean Earth would be destroyed and Heaven would defeat Hell. That's not happening. We may well see Jesus again before it's all over but, if we do, it's going to be briefly in some quirky capacity, not because The Second Coming in the Biblical sense was successful.

The Metatron's end goal is to get through Armageddon to The Second Coming but the plot is really Armageddon: Round Two. It's the same as it was in S1-- they have to stop Armageddon. They can do that by coming together and getting rid of The Metatron. That's very do-able with the time that's left because it's really now just a matter of needing something that pulls the characters back together and motivates them to do this-- i.e., needing to help Aziraphale.

The Finale is really more like not having a S3 but, instead, having a bonus, two episode finale to S2. I think it helps to think of it all more like we've only seen six of the eight episodes of S2, which is the final season, because The Finale isn't a separate plot with a new starting place. It's going to pick up where S2 left off.

<<If I was running the show I would hit us up with the flashbacks back to back like in S1, ending on their new arrangement which would feed right into the final 15. Recontextualise everything, and then hit the ground running...>>

Oh, you're a dastardly writer. *grins* I like your style! Just come in hot, flip everything on its head, leave everyone reeling and riveted through to the end. I think it could very well be like that and that would be a lot of fun.

I have a pretty big suspicion that the first scene of The Finale is The Vavoom. Whether that's a one-off scene that flips the kiss in The Final 15 on its head for some people and then goes into the opening title sequence and we're back in the present or whether it's the start of a second cold open, I don't know.

I tend to agree with you that doing a flashback sequence cold open to start The Finale would be pretty amazing. Structurally, I think this is the best place for it to go... in large part because of what could happen immediately in the present on the other side of it.

Imagine they cold open for, like, 25 minutes straight like they did in 1.03 and we go through time with Crowley & Aziraphale again in a half-dozen scenes and now, since they're past the point of needing to duck and weave in order to pull off the S2 twist, these are all pretty openly romantic scenes. The ancient times first kiss, a story around the cottage making us unable to wait for them to go live there, the origins of "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square", the last part of 1941, etc...

...and then, while we're all trying to come up for air? Boom, we're back in the present, where Aziraphale gets off the elevator and is taken to the The Metatron to fall-- and Saraqael takes his memories before he does.

Everything we just finally watched is, for the moment, now gone in the story. We saw it to set up its existence being temporarily erased. Aziraphale goes into the pit of boiling sulphur and... cue the opening title sequence.

They should definitely do that. 😂 People would be screaming.

Ok,Since the Good Omens Finale is only going to be 90 minutes,I have a feeling we might not get a flashback sequence.

Hi there, @rougeside4 💕 I made an apple pie, if you want some. 😊Allow me to offer a different take? I wouldn't worry about this. There will be flashbacks. It's not the show without them.

Short thing on why we're definitely getting flashbacks and on which ones we can maybe see as being very likely still in The Finale.

The secret sauce of Good Omens, imho, is that the real juice of the story is actually always in the flashbacks. The flashbacks that we see are not random; they're always written to support the story in the present. There's a point to why it is these flashbacks we are seeing-- and when and in what order we are seeing them--when Crowley and Aziraphale have been on Earth for over 6,000 years and we could see any of their adventures. They're designed to inform our understanding of the story in the present. The real beating heart of the story is in the scenes set in the past and the story in the present would lack... *searches for words* emotional resonance? thematic weight? general, dramatic oomph? all of these?... if they were to cut the past. Put more plainly: it would suck 😂, and they're smart enough not to do that.

I think some of the most exciting parts of The Finale are actually going to be the flashbacks, just like how they were always the biggest treats in S1 and S2. In the way that they roll those out to us, piece by piece, they're changing our understanding of what we're watching in the present. The meaning of the story in the present is driven by the flashbacks in the past to a point that you cannot have one without the other.

Good Omens is actually driving all of its suspense and anticipation through the story in the past and that's what makes its non-linear storytelling clever. After all, right now, most people know this thing has a happy ending and aren't worried about that, right? We know Crowley and Aziraphale will get back together and be fine and no one is stressing over that. (And if you are... really? Guys. Honestly?! It's called Good Omens. It's a romance. It's a sweet, cuddly show. It's going to be fine. 💕)

So, what are we curious about, if not where it's going in the present?

1941, Part 3, right? Whether or not there's an ancient times vavoom coming our way? What the deal is with Jane Austen and/or 1650? Whether or not we might be surprised with a flashback that hasn't already been set up earlier in the story and what that might be?

Our biggest questions in the story aren't about what will happen in the future but about what we might get to see that has already happened in the past.

There is actually no conceivable way to do The Finale without flashbacks because the entire story is built towards having at least a couple of essential ones happen in its end game. I would not be surprised if at least somewhere around a third of The Finale is set in the past. Are there ones that we would have had with a full season that will be cut? Yes, but, are there also ones, though, that are too essential to cut because the entire story for two seasons has been building towards eventually revealing them to the audience in the final part of the story? Oh, yeah. 😉

Guaranteed: 1941, Part 3. There is no chance that they cut this-- none. They have built the ending of this trilogy of flashbacks to support the ending of the story in the present so it has to happen. It doesn't need to be an entire minisode in length. Part 2 really did all the heavy-lifting with plot and themes here, and Part 1 was a single, brilliant, not terribly long scene. If Amazon reduced The Finale to 15 minutes long, I think the show would still find a way to put 1941, Part 3 in there. The first two parts were so pivotal to the themes and parallels of the story in the present and it's the only flashback that we keep getting installments of throughout the story so its Part 3 is going somewhere massive. If there's one flashback that's in The Finale, it's this one.

Extremely, extremely likely: the ancient times vavoom to which they have been building in clues and hints for two seasons that is going to flip the entire show on its head by going back to The Flood. It would parallel and add extra weight to all the conflicts we have in the story in The Finale that were set into motion by the end of S2-- the kiss, one of them leaving/them being separated, the threat of an apocalyptic-like event, etc.. It would, in almost no time at all, complete the narrative magic trick of the show by turning it inside out for the audience.

The show that shows everything backwards has been sitting on the real first kiss the entire time and saving it until the end game of the story and that end game is The Finale so expect that angel and that demon to be sheltering under a canopy from a rainstorm in the very long ago days and break the internet in the process.

If I were them, I'd even open The Finale with this flashback, just because of how much it's going to pull the rug out from under The Final 15. After all, the first two seasons opened with a canopy-and-rain-themed scene, did they not? Just one wing at a time, though... no under a canopy together yet. No gazing into each other's eyes and vavooming. That bit of the beginning of their story has always been going to be shown to us in the end of the story. It could well be the, well, beginning of the end of that story by opening The Finale. We'll have to see. Either way, it's in there.

It's also worth mentioning that both of these above flashbacks would be going back to eras we've already visited in the story so no time would need to be devoted to setting up the scenes. That would seem to make them easier to not cut, in addition to how narratively important they are.

Going To Be In There In Someway, Somehow: A flashback that sets up the South Downs Cottage ending, which is suspected to be the Jane Austen flashback because of her living in real life in the South Downs around the years that it was mentioned in S2 that Crowley and Aziraphale knew her.

When this was set up for S3 back in S2, the Jane Austen story felt juicy enough to potentially be a whole minisode in length. Maybe especially since it's probably how they are going to be build a history of the cottage between Crowley and Aziraphale to help give emotional weight to them going to live there in the present at the end of the story. I've no idea what this looks like with a shortened run time. They might abbreviate or maybe it was never even that long in the first place? They might do something different in its place? It's hard to say, since we don't know, but they've got to do something to set up the cottage, so...

Whatever this winds up being, though, we're now up to three flashbacks that have to happen because of how they connect to the story in the present in The Finale. These are three, non-negotiable ones, basically-- and we are obviously only looking at ones that we can see having been set up already.

There is also the fact that there's usually a surprise flashback that wasn't set up but which is crucial to the story, like the Job minisode was in S2. It fits in perfectly, retrospectively, but we were intentionally not really given enough in S1 to see it coming in S2 so that there was something unpredictable for us to enjoy. I'm not expecting anything as long as Job again but there could still be a scene more 1.03 Cold Open in length that we don't even know is essential at this point because we aren't meant to know at this point but, much like we did with Bildad 😊, we will see as vital to everything once we see it.

Including that as a possibility, we're now up to four flashback scenes that seem unlikely to be chopped from The Finale. What I just described, give or take and depending on the length of 1941, Part 3, is probably collectively getting within shouting distance of the run time of the 1.03 Cold Open-- and that's going really bare bones and only talking about the scenes that seem too story-essential to consider cutting. There's also one more that might meet that criteria...

Could Go Either Way: 1650. If this has nothing to do with Agnes Nutter, it's probably gone. If it's how Agnes has an appearance in the end of the story to pull stuff together, they'll probably find a way to put it in there because... Agnes. 😊

No one knows what this thing is supposed to be about but we do know that it was set up in S2 for S3 and, between Aziraphale mentioning it, the historical ties to eccles cakes to this era, the fact that it could potentially show a Whickber Street in early development and, most importantly, that it's set five years before Agnes Nutter died, whatever this thing is? It's intriguing. We don't know how long it was meant to be but if it's something that was minisode-length but could be reworked to be shorter-- or if just was always short in length-- it's probably still in there.

It's very possible to have many, quality scenes that hop throughout time in a very short period of time. The 1.03 Cold Open is about 23 minutes long and jam-packed with goodness. I have no idea if they're going to sprinkle flashbacks in throughout The Finale or if they're going to do a flashback sequence like 1.03/Ineffable Bureaucracy again but I do think that at least a third of The Finale-- so, roughly 30 minutes of it, give or take-- are likely flashbacks.

We are going into this movie a lot closer to the end of the story in the present than I think it may appear to some at this point. All the set up work to get the characters into place to overthrow The Metatron in The Finale was already done in S2. It's not going to take 90 minutes for Aziraphale to be in trouble, Crowley and Ineffable Bureaucracy to find out and rally the troops, everyone to challenge The Metatron, expose him as a fraud, and kill the threat of Armageddon by overthrowing Heaven and setting it up to be democratized. That's pretty much what everyone knows needs to happen in The Finale and what is likely going to be the main story in the present in S3.

We know what is going to happen because we know it has a happy ending and we know that we need the Armageddon threat gone for the South Downs Cottage happy ending to occur. We know the only answer is that they've got to overthrow The Metatron. Whether you think the plot is Supreme Archangel Aziraphale or whether you're like me and think the plot is that Aziraphale is in mid-fall as of the end of S2 and that's the thing that triggers the other characters to come together against Heaven, the end result is still going to be the same: The Metatron's gotta go and everyone's got to come together to make that happen if we're getting the happy ending we already know we're getting.

We are all sitting here knowing pretty much exactly what the story in the present is going to be in The Finale and that's because the story has set it up so that we do. Yes, there's going to be joy in watching that unfold but a story designed like a magic trick has to have suspense and give the audience a sense of anticipation. We feel that from this story and from where are we getting that?

The past. The flashbacks.

Everyone knows what the end of this story in the present is but no one knows for sure where, say, 1941 is going, or what new things about Crowley and Aziraphale the past will show us in The Finale. Every new thing we see in the past? Changes our view of the present. That's what makes the story clever. It's also what makes it enjoyable. They cannot cut flashbacks because they'd be cutting the most interesting parts of the story and what makes Good Omens the quirky, unique bird it is.

The present and the past are so interwoven in the story that I'm pretty sure that it is impossible to do Good Omens without flashbacks. The only question going into The Finale is which ones they're going to surprise and delight us with. Don't lose faith or sleep over it-- at minimum, we'll see Crowley's 1941 hat again and that, truly, is all any of us really need to survive.

[airenyah]

no but when mhok told day to think of his plate as a clock and told him where on the clock the food was that really reminded me of one of my favorite movies from when i was in middle school which is also about blind people and where the title of the movie itself is a reference to thinking of the plate as a clock: it's called "erbsen auf halb 6" which literally translates to "peas at half past 5" (yes, "halb 6" means "half past 5", yes the numbers are different, don't worry about it)

the plot of the movie is a theater director losing his eyesight in a car accident and him being a director who kinda needs to see what's going on on stage he really doesn't take his sudden loss of vision very well. he gets assigned a helper/mentor, a lady who is blind herself and who's been blind since birth and is supposed to help him adapt to a life with disability. he ultimately runs away from her when he learns that his mother is sick to go find his mother in russia and say goodbye before she dies. his helper/mentor chases after him and they end up on a travel adventure together

it's been over a decade since i last saw the movie but i think at some point they eat and they talk about how the peas sit on the plate where it would be half past 5 on a clock?? anyway, that moment with mhok and day at the restaurant where mhok tells him the position of day's food with the help of an analog clock really reminded me of that movie

edit: i went to look for the trailer of that movie and i found the scene in question!! turns out they're at a restaurant and the helper/mentor character goes "if you imagine the plate as a clock... what numbers is the food lying on?" and the waitress is all confused going "i'm sorry?"

there are no eng subs for the trailer buuut the moment is at the very end at 2:11:

see it's a real movie i didn't just make it up kjdfkjdfk

[jayisa]

just saw the haikyuu movie and it was SO GOOD

[louismygf]

just recently watched this is us with my college friends

[ashton-ryder]

"Hmm, alright I trust you, as long as we don't end up with someone's sex couch," Ash bit back the laugh with a shiver of dread, but the a real horror was there of ending up with a dubious couch. Probably needs a deep cleaning anyways if he could afford it. Ruth always had a way of getting it her way in the end, convincing him of things he personally didn't think he'd need, but this was something he didn't think he could argue back. He isn't the one that would like to watch movies, Ruth had always been the one to pull him into them when they do. But who was he to deny her of her fun when he owed her so much?

Trading favors may be enticing but he wasn't even sure if he could offer anything worth trading, but he squinted at her second comment, a hint of doubt at her availability, "I thought you'd be way too busy in med school, I wasn't even sure you were eating." Every time they video chat over the past year after Ruth moved from Minnesota, she was always busy doing something. But Ash knew better than to debate it with her, nor to take her away from important duties and work. "I'll let you know if I need help," he settled with that hoping to wouldn't need to bother her.

It was good to hear at least that the neighbors here are alright, he hadn't exactly had the experience before other than with the marines in very close proximity, and had adamantly avoided all forms of a dorm. Ruth's recommendation here was another reason Ash took the bait. "Greeting you with a handshake and pocketing your money in the other?" He joked at the thought but he was more than thankful for an affordable rent quote, having asked for the smallest apartment available. "Yeah I met Mr Wexley earlier when I first got here.. he seemed nice, showed me in and to my apartment when I arrived and everything. Kinda down to earth for a rich guy." You'd think people that own a building and profit off of it would be living somewhere else in a mansion or something. "Heard the apartments get bigger the higher to floors go, can't even imagine living on the ninth floor."

he might have been right about facebook, but that didn't mean it was unmanageable. there were plenty of ways to fact-check whether or not the piece was real. and she'd started to be able to spot some of the fakes fairly quickly. "it is. but, there's a lot of private student groups." considering the volume of move-ins and outs between just columbia and nyu there were plenty of good pieces left out on the curb for the discerning eye.

"i think a couch would be good for movie nights."because there might have been one person living there, but she certainly wasn't going to host every time they did something. just some of the time. most of the time. and besides, the roses already knew of her existence and it hadn't quite clicked so serendipitously. "you can always trade favors. i'm free."

sort of. enough that she would have dropped anything to help ash settle into the city. "i don't spend a lot of time here, but everyone's nice." though given the hours to resident ratio, she was also fairly certain she hadn't met everyone. "even the owners, the wexleys, are so nice." she even went to school with two of them, though their paths crossed far less than she'd first expected. "you'd never know they were the ones collecting rent if you get in the elevator with them."