#I have so many more thoughts and feelings about this but I’m not able to articulate it all right now

[softlypaintedseafoam]

the summer moon was born from the waves to be loved

synopsis. you get pregnant and the ghost of university days past finds out five years later.

pairing. gojou satoru x f!reader (afab)

word count. 10.2k | masterlist

content warning. 18+ (mentions of sex but nothing explicit), college au (no powers), friends with benefits, pregnancy, hidden child trope, onesided feelings (unreliable narrator), use of y/n

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

a repost of an old favorite two-part story of mine. this story originally came about as a what if discussion concerning characters from jjk to tokrev to even bllk and the gojou idea was the most inspiring so i really ran with it. pt 2 will be posted later this week. this is filler while i work on my current wips

o. ghost

This felt like something out of a bad movie.

One of those “yeah, that’s me. The one looking like she just shit herself because the ghost of Christmas past just showed up” kinds of movies. The ghost of Christmas past whom you haven’t seen in the last five years.

The ghost of Christmas past that your daughter looks at curiously, wondering who put you in such a stupor as she asks sweetly, “who’s he, Mommy?”

The ghost of Christmas past whose face is unreadable as he looks at Itsuki before he settles his gaze on you. “Yeah, [First],” the ghost asks. “Who am I?”

Where did I go wrong?

A rhetorical question. 

A lot in life has to go wrong for a man you thought you left in your memories to show up at your doorstep but you can pinpoint the exact moment in time in which you screwed up. It’s all because you sat next to Ieiri Shoko in your mandatory calculus class. If it weren’t for that, none of this would be happening.

No, that isn’t it. Your gaze turns to Itsuki, who looks back at you with familiar light blue eyes and white hair. She may have gotten the Gojou Satoru eye and hair colors, but her hair texture and skin tone both pointed to you. If I sat anywhere else she wouldn’t be here. And even if you knew that sitting next to Shoko meant meeting the world’s most aggravating man you could have fallen for, you feel like you would have taken that path once again.

No, sitting next to Shoko wasn’t where you messed up all those years agoー it was telling her you were pregnant in the first place.

i. spring tide

When you met Gojou Satoru, you considered it a godsend.

Not because his eyes were a rare shade of blue that most would kill to have. Not because he was drop dead gorgeous and the last person you were expecting to see when your classmate Shoko invited you to eat lunch with her and a couple friends.

The reason was a lot more simple thatー he was the first person you’d met in years that had watched and liked Digimon more than Pokemon. I am so glad I sat next to that Shoko girl, you thought in gleeful disbelief as he told you his personal favorites before flipping the question onto you. “I’m basic,” you told him with a laugh. “I’ve been riding the wave of Gatomon love since I was 7.”

Getou Suguru, Satoru’s childhood best friend from what you’d gathered, groaned, “please don’t make him continue with your excitement.”

“Ignore him,” Satoru pushed Suguru’s face away with all the nonchalance in the world. “He thinks Digimon is stupid.”

“It’s a Pokemon bootleg!” Suguru shot back with a sly smile.

In unison, you and Satoru gasped in disbelief and offense. “Boy bye! You can talk all the shit you want about Digimon, I can rest every night at ease knowing if my house were on fire Agumon would be able to say ‘[First], your house is on fire’,” you sneered in jest at the man, Satoru clapping in agreement all the while at your defense. “You don’t get that kind of insurance with Pikachu! ‘Pika pika’ could mean so many things!”

“Where have you been all my life?” Satoru snickered, holding his hand out for a high five you reciprocated with complete enthusiasm.

“Watching Digimon by myself,” you laughed, whipping out your phone. You needed this man’s number stat. “The next time I have a Digimon rewatch, I’m inviting you over. Like, you don’t have the option to refuse, you’ve doomed yourself.”

Satoru’s eyes were gleaming from his lowered shades, “funny, I was about to say the exact same thing to you,” he glanced over at Suguru with a teasing look. “Friendship ended with Suguru, [First] is my new best friend,” the white-haired student declared as he typed his number into your phone.

He labeled himself Digidestined Satoru, sending a text to himself: This is coming from the phone of Digidestined [First]. Your cheeks hurt from how widely you were grinning as you looked at the message. “That better be what you put me in your phone.”

“Definitely, new best friend,” Satoru promised, whipping his own phone around to show your new contact in it. Digidestined [First] it was.

Despite the apparent disownership, Suguru looked amused and unbothered, “okay but see if your ex-best friend takes notes for you if you ever take off from class.” Suddenly your new brother-in-Digimon was singing a different tune, waxing poetic about how Digimon and Pokemon were brothers from different mothers. You rolled your eyes but you’re unmistakably giddy as you watched him talk with his hands.

“There doesn’t need to bad blood between the two,” Satoru ended with a grand bow. “As such, I declare that I can have more than one best friend.”

“How did we even get on the topic of Digimon,” Shoko asked with an amused look on her face, cracking open another beer. “That was so random.”

You grabbed your own beer with a light giggle, you felt rather light compared to how you started this day. “His sunglasses had a Metal Greymon-like pattern and I had to say something about it,” you say after a few sips. “Glad I did because now I have a new brother-in-Digimon.”

Blue eyes held your gaze for a moment and you clacked your cans together in celebration.

That was how your friendship started. Clothed in beer and Digimon. It took about a week before he swept over to your place, seeking out the promise to watch Digimon together. If you can really call what you did watching, you spent more than half of the time talking over the episodes about miscellaneous topics than actually watching Tai and the gang try to get back to the physical world.

He’d known Suguru since he was 5.

(“We got into a fight on the playground. I wanted the swing and he wouldn’t get off. So I kicked him and he threw sand at my face, we’ve been buddies ever since.”

“I have a lot of questions about how y’all went from trying to kill each other to being best friends.”

“Look, don’t question our methods.”)

He was a December Sagittarius, born December 7th.

(”Yeah, I can tell!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

He apparently started eating sweets to stimulate his brain but ended up with a sweet tooth.

(“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, did you get that shit from Death Note?!”

“…. no.��

“Oh my god, you did!”

“You literally got a tattoo of a butterfly because of a crush you had on Jolyne from Part 6, shut up!”

“Satoru, don’t play these games with me.”)

He sounded eerily similar to Bruno Bucciarati from part 5 of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure.

(”Arrivederci!”

“Oh my god that’s insane! You do! Say something else!”

“STICKY FINGERS!!!”

“PFFT-”

“See? I could totally get away with saying I voiced him and no one would bat an eyelash.”

“Who else do you sound like?”

“I’ve been told I make a great impression of Kuroo from Haikyuu!!”

He did, by the way.)

And he was currently enrolled as a business major. 

(“My old man wouldn’t get off my back about it. You?”

“Marine biology.”

“We have that program here?”)

He had a natural charisma that just drew people in, yourself included. That’s why you think it was so easy being with him, he made it feel like you’d been friends all your life even if reality said otherwise. He made everyone feel like that, that’s why he’d always be surrounded by people.

Still, he’d find a way to make you feel special when his eyes would light up in recognition when he saw you wave across the room at parties.

How he’d jig across the room with those lanky limbs of his to grab you in a hug. “[First], you finally made it! Thanks for coming out of the bat cave you call a room to grace us with your presence!”

It made you feel special that you were friends with the person adored by everyone else. That’s why you could playfully push him off of you and say, “you mean the bat cave you crawl to when you lock yourself out of your room and Suguru isn’t in either?”

“I’m hurt, why are you being mean to me?” Satoru pouted batting his white eyelashes like a distressed damsel. “Don’t you know who you’re being mean to when you’re being an ass? This, this is who you’re being mean to,” he gestured to himself.

“Last week you ate my fries after I specifically said not to touch them because I counted how many I had left, I know exactly who I’m being mean to.”

“How was I supposed to know you’d count them again whenever you decided to eat them?” Your irritation from last week had long since passed though, that was why you could laugh it off with a shake of your head. Satoru was Satoru, it was what you liked most about him even if he could be a pain in the ass.

Suguru’s brown eyes twinkled as you joined the small fray of him, Shoko and Utahime in a corner of the room, “I’m just glad I’m not the only one dealing with him anymore.” Satoru suck his tongue out with a ‘rude’.

“Someone has to do the dirty work,” Shoko replied as she raised a cigarette to her lips. “it might as well be us.”

Utahime smacked the tobacco stick out of her girlfriend’s hands as she said, “I’d rather not be included in the list of people of doing the dirty work.”

“Et tu, [First], et tu?” Satoru asked when you made no effort to come to his defense.

You raised your hands in mock defense, “I have to be a little mean to you sometimes, Satoru,” you told him with a snicker. “It keeps you from getting too big an ego.”

Whether or not that was working was debatable.

The night went on smoothly until your favorite brand of beer had been noticeably picked off from the coolers.

That’s my cue to leave.

“Sorry gang, but my lips don’t touch anything but Don Equis and Asahi,” you said with an air of regality not suited for a party of college students. “Maybe Corona if there’s nothing else. I’m not drinking… whatever this is. So I’m gonna head out, there’s a 24 hour liquor store around here somewhere.”

A chorus of farewells came from your friends minus one. “You coming back?” Satoru looked over at you in earnest.

But you shook your head, “nah, I think I’m done for the night,” you told him truthfully. Your social battery was gone for the rest of the evening and home was the only place you wanted to be. “I’ll catch you guys later though,” you stood up with a stretch.

Satoru stood up with you, “I’ll walk you back to your place then.”

Which was how you ended up sipping beers at the park, laying on soft grass. It wasn’t truly quiet, not with the passing of cars and the occasional passersby but it was quiet enough compared to the welcomed ruckus of the party. “Satoru,” Satoru hummed wordlessly in acknowledgement. “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugged back pressed against the earth snuggly. “I never really got to think about it.”

He was an only child and as such the only one his parents’ turned their gaze to with pressure of taking over the family business. He confided in you ages ago how he hated it when you started seeing more sides of Satoru than the mischief-loving comedian he presented himself as.

You scooted closer to him to lean over his head, “well I think whatever you end up doing, even if it ends up really pissing off your dad, you’ll be great at it. You’re Satoru, that’s how I know you’ll be fine,” your voice held the tone of a promise. I promise you’ll be fine and you’ll be happy.

Thanks, [First]. You liked to think that was what that look on Satoru’s face meant. “I think you’ll make a great part-time aquarist, full-time whale researcher,” Satoru replied instead.

“You’re damn right I will,” you smiled warmly at him, moving a stray strand of his hair off his forehead. “Be careful I don’t disappear for months, spirited away by the sea folk on my Children of the Sea shit.” You took his sunglasses off, you had no clue how he was able to wear them 24/7. Even stranger was how he was still able to walk so easily at night despite having them on. Apparently the Gojou eye genes were built different; the colors of his eyes certainly were. “I’ll come back to shore occasionally, mysterious as the sea itself.” The sea you got to see every time you looked at his eyes, even if now they were barely visible even with the street lights.

Satoru looked back at you with a small smirk, “even if you got spirited away, I’d just go and bring you right back. Suguru’ll kill me if I try and make him watch Digimon Tamers with me again. You said it first, remember?” His voice was low as he recalled your exact words from your first meeting. “You’ve doomed yourself. There’s no ditching me now, not even at sea.”

“I did say something like that, didn’t I,” you smiled wryly. 

He didn’t say anything back, but you could guess that he was likely thinking something along the lines ‘yep, that you did. No take backsies.’ A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, his eyes staring up at yours. It’s then you swore you saw him glance at your lips from where he laid and just when you considered the idea of kissing himー the sprinklers turned on.

Even worse, in your surprise his head clashed into yours as he tried getting up with a start.

Then there was a dash of bullshit on the side when your beers spilled over into the grass.

Great, you thought as Satoru tossed your emptied cans into a nearby trash can after you got out of the line of fire. You shook your arms, droplets of water flying off your soaked sleeves.

You should have taken that as a major sign from the universe that you would be making a mistake of gargantuan proportions if you kissed that man.

Instead, the two of you looked at each other and laughed. “God I hate this park, why do we even come here? Nothing good ever happens when we do,” Satoru said with a shake of his damp hair.

“This is the first time we’ve ever even come here,” you snickered.

“And see what a great start we’re already having with it?”

“Come on,” you tugged him by the wrist. “Let’s just change at my place, you have some clothes somewhere over there.”

A smarter person would have left it at that once you got home and showered, placing your clothes in the wash. It could have been a pleasant end to the evening, the two of you crashing on the couch while watching some dumb movie you never heard of on Netflix.

But the same atmosphere from the park came back with you when he came out of the bathroom at the same time you planned to knock on it to ask if he wanted something warm to drink. “Oh, sorry-” you say when your fist lightly landed on his chest instead of the door. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted tea or something. I bought your favorite brand of honey.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” he answered but you made no move to go to the kitchen and he made no move to ask when you would.

Who kissed who first, you weren’t sure. It didn’t really hit you that you were kissing until Satoru tore his lips from yours with a pant, “hey how drunk are you because I really just wanna make sure-”

“I’m not,” you pulled his lips back onto yours and Satoru hadn’t wasted time in hoisting you up by the legs.

ii. neap tide

When does one stop sleeping with their friend? You suppose it is probably when you realize you have feelings for them.

You didn’t do that.

If it had been anyone else doing this to themselves, you would have told them to cut the cord while the feelings were still manageable.

Or maybe you at least tell the other party how they felt.

You didn’t do that either.

Maybe that was why it was all catching up to you one day when you woke up feeling like crap. The physical manifestation of your stress coming back to bite you in the ass. Right before the trip you were planning on taking with your friends, you started feeling like crap only exacerbated when Satoru was in your presence.

But you still went despite your physically manifested stress because you’re a pushover. Or more specifically, if it involved Satoru, you folded faster than Sunday morning laundry. You had to when he looked at you in concerned disbelief you were trying to drop out of your plans last minute.

“Satoru, it isn’t the end of the world if I stay home. It’s just a week long break.”

“A week long break from your friends? From me? Your best friend?”

You struggled not to laugh, “last week you said I was kicked from that position because I watched one episode of Love is Blind without you.”

Satoru scowled at the memory, “because that’s our show, we started that together, there’s no watching ahead,” he reprimanded you. “And clearly I’ve forgiven you since you’re back in that position because I can’t believe you’re trying to leave me to survive with a couple and Suguru for a week!”

You puckered your lips and shrugged, “if it’s any consolation, Suguru is your boyfriend like 95% of the time.”

“Well right now Suguru is that asshole Kenjaku’s boyfriend and Kenjaku is supposed to be coming and I do not want to fourth wheel that by myself.”

You flicked his nose softly, “so you want me to third party fourth wheel with you so you don’t have to be alone with two couples?”

Satoru grinned and you stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. “Third party fourth wheel with benefits, yes.”

You stared at him for one, two, three seconds before you relented. “Look, I’m only going because I want the sex, not because I’m happily agreeing to fourth wheel with you.”

Satoru whooped regardless in his victory, “works for me!” He chortled as he went back to scrolling on his phone.

Silence fell over you as fiddled with your pointer finger and thumb.

“Hey,” Satoru spared a glance from whatever he was staring at on twitter. “What are we supposed to be?” Blue eyes grew to the size of saucers and you continued, “Classic no strings attached? Or is this supposed to be going somewhere?”

That made him set down his phone, “why,” he licked his lips before grinning, but it looked forced even to your eyes. “Why are you asking me that so randomly?”

You deserved an Oscar for how smoothly you delivered what came from your mouth. “Well what if the receptionist there is hot? I don’t need to make things between us awkward because it turned out we aren’t on the same page,” you thumbed behind you in the direction of the hotel. “‘What the hell, [First]’,” you deepened your voice, puckering your bottom lip as you whined. “‘I thought we had something special and you fucked the receptionist? What if they end up fucking with our reservation now?!’”

“First of all, that is not what I sound like,” Satoru stuck his tongue out at you but his shoulders were relaxed and subtle he tried to be, you could feel the relief rolling off of him in waves. “Second, fucking the receptionist does sound like a terrible idea because what if they do fuck our reservation because things go south? Just find someone at a club like the rest of us. But fucking someone else is a non-issue, get all the ass you want.”

“Well glad to know I have the Gojou Satoru thumb of approval,” you smiled and Satoru grinned in return, giving you a nudge with his elbow and you nudged him back. Underneath the calm, you were a storm of turbulent emotions. You weren’t surprised, your feelings had been confirmed. This wasn’t a Disney movie. You weren’t Tiana and he wasn’t Naveenー you weren’t going to turn this commitment-phobe into something he wasn’t. Yet the pain of the confirmation echoed in your chest. “Well, not when it comes to the receptionist.”

“Because no one fucks someone with the power of their reservation at their fingertips, that’s like,” Satoru searched his mind for the perfect example. “Handing over the poison to a chef and that chef was the person you were planning on poisoning.” So is continuing to sleep with someone who didn’t want the same things as you.

You couldn’t help laughing at your idiocy, relieved that Satoru took it as a humorous dig at his less than perfect metaphor. “I’m still fucking the receptionist if they’re hot.”

“I hope they’re married and old, how about that?”

“I’ve always liked them with a little salt and pepper. I fucked your prematurely whitening headass, didn’t I?”

“First of all, this is all natural-”

You’ve doomed yourself.

iii. red tide

Denial.

Anger.

Bargaining.

Depression.

Acceptance.

Those are the five stages of grief. It was certainly the steps that you experienced when the fact your period was late hit you while you were floating when Utahime gasped about the sea turning red.

Red tide, it was the first you’d ever seen it. But that excitement or concern about the possibility of what that meant completely subsided as you stared at the reddening shoreline when you realized a noticeable absence of red that week.

There was no way you were late for any particular reason. This was one of those flukes, your period always had a tendency to be finicky. It would be early or late at its convenience, never mind you being the one suffering. That’s why it was absolutely ludicrous that you left the beach to buy a pregnancy test.

And if you were the word you refused to think, it was your own damn fault for playing with karma the one time you decide to trust Satoru’s pullout game. Both of you were stupid, very very turned on and stupid and you should have just waited to get a condom.

But in the chance you weren’t pregnant, you swore you were going to remain celibate the rest of your university experience. You’d focus on other things, like journaling consistently like you said you would when you were writing your New Year’s revolutions.

Bargaining means nothing to biology, however, that was what you took as the universe’s answers when you were forced to look at the positive result staring back at you.

A lot of thoughts would run through a person’s head at an unplanned pregnancy resulting from a very ill-advised friends with benefits relationship.

Were you still in depression? Or had you reached acceptance yet? You weren’t entirely sure as you stared out the sparkling sea. Your sight blurring the stars above and the stars below did little reassure you as the possibilities ran through your mind.

What would you tell Satoru?

How would he react?

Would he think this was why you asked him about where your relationship was supposed to be heading?

Would assume the worst of you and accuse you of trying to trap him into a relationship when it was clearly supposed to be no strings attached from the beginning?

You didn’t know which unknown would hurt you more.

I should really decide on whether or not I’ll keep it to begin with before I start with all the scenarios, you inhaled deeply with shudder but you didn’t bother to wipe your tears. The blurriness was your own punishment. If I don’t, I never have to tell him anything. We can just cut this off and he’ll be none the wiser.

It was the most optimal scenario when you were still in college. You were barely handling the fees you currently had to pay for school, a child definitely wouldn’t help with that.

Was it too late to find something unhealthy to use as a coping mechanism?

“Yo,” you could have laughed bitterly. Of course, this is when Satoru shows up now. Right after you’ve isolated yourself away from everyone else on the more populated part of the beach. He was grinning, you could hear it in his voice. “[Fir]- hey are you alright?”

Great.

“Yeah, it’s just, you ever see something so beautiful you want to cry? It’s one of those things,” when he looked unsure, you grinned widely and wiped your tears. You didn’t need him to suspect a damn thing. “Seriously, dude, this was the reason I wanted to go into marine biology as a kid. I saw a picture of it once and decided, I wanna see that too. It’s just a surreal moment for me.”

At your reassurance, Satoru sighed, “geez, don’t freak me out like that.” You snorted as he settled next to you and you couldn’t think of anything humorous to say.

“Pretty cool, right?” The blue of the bioluminescence was reminiscent of his eyes, the thought crossed your mind now that he was in front of you.

Satoru whistled, impressed, “yeah but what is it?” He slapped a foot down on the ground, whistling again at the additional sparkling at the stimulus. “You’re the marine biologist, explain the science to me.”

“Sea sparkle,” you told him with a snort, heart drumming all the while. “I never thought I’d see something like this in my life. Red tides are signs of algal blooms are going to happen. They can be harmful but sometimes, completely harmless. This is the completely harmless kind,” a sparkling wave rolled across your feet as if to prove your point. “Well, technically harmless, there’s some conflicting evidence on whether or not it’s okay to swim in. We shouldn’t touch or swim in it to be safe. It’s just been a childhood dream of mine to do this, so don’t tell my friends in the not-dumb-scientist community. And wash your skin really really well tonight before going to bed.”

A grin blossomed on his face in his usual expression of mischief, “I ain’t no snitch.”

“Good because if you do I’m telling Shoko it was you that ate her leftovers,” you stuck your tongue out petulantly and Satoru kicked a splash at your thigh.

“Anyways,” Satoru drawled, observing the glow of his footsteps in the sand. “How long will it last?”

“It depends, sometimes a week. Sometimes a month,” definitely longer than the two of you and the situationship you’ve maintained thus far. “Once the food source runs out, they’re out. But hopefully they’ll be here the rest of our vacation, it’s pretty cool, right?”

“Yep, pretty damn cool,” he repeated like you hadn’t already asked that question earlier.

Satoru wasn’t yours, nothing was going to change that.

iv. ebb

If I’m not going to tell him, I need to leave.

That was the conclusion you came to after ultimately deciding to keep your child. Gojou Satoru wasn’t yours to keep, that was more than apparent. You wouldn’t force him to stay by means of a pregnancy.

You weren’t the first single mother in existence, you doubted you’d be the last. You’d do everything, without his help. Everything would be figured out in due time, it didn’t matter the run around you would have to take.

It took a week after the trip for you to come to that conclusion, packing your bags so you could head home. You’d transfer to a different school, there was no way you’d be able to keep a pregnancy underwraps on campus. Especially not from your friends.

You tried to distance yourself from your friends slowly, but even an inch was noticeable.

You alright?

What kind of sadists are your professors if you’re this busy?

Just let me know if you need me to come over some kind of distraction. Sorry for coming over earlier unannounced, I shouldn’t have assumed. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Those were the texts Satoru sent you the most. If any your friends doubted you, it seemed Satoru doubted you the most despite your reassurance that once you got your workload more manageable you’d be more available. You told him things were fine, maybe he just doubted you because you never told him he couldn’t come over whenever he felt like it. That was how things had been since you became friends.

Your place was his place, his place was yours.

That’s why Shoko had to be at your apartment, arms crossed and looking thoroughly tired.

“What’s been up with you anyway?” Shoko barged into your apartment before you could stop her. “Satoru’s been driving me insane asking me to check on you.” So she said, but you saw the worry on her face even if she tried to hide it. “So what’s going on? He says he’s pretty sure something is going on and you don’t want to tell him. Are you failing a class or something?”

“Nothing,” you told her a little too quickly and the brunette gave you a look that said ‘girl, please’. If your attempt to look as composed as possible wasn’t doing you favors, neither was how messy your room was. “Seriously, Shoko, I’m fine. Satoru’s just being overdramatic. It’s Satoru, you should know this. He went to your clinic once for almost breaking a nail.”

Shoko rolled her eyes at the memory, “yeah but now he’s pestering me to see if you’re actually fine or if you’re just trying to shut him out,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before the concern peeps out of her face. “He said once in high school Suguru pushed him away and stuff went bad between them for a while. He felt like it was his fault for not trying hard enough to see what was bothering him. The rest of us are being chill about everything but we are worried too, you know. Just considerably less dramatically than others.”

That made your heart twist in both in the best and worst ways.

“It’s…” you took a step back and held yourself. “It’s fine. Tell Satoru he’s just being dramatic.”

“Then why is your suitcase out?” [Color] stared into brown as Shoko’s look told you that she wouldn’t drop it until you came clean to her. “Is it that serious? I won’t force you to talk about it, but I at least want to know how okay you are and it’s something you can manage on your own. That’s all, I promise I won’t say anything to Satoru if you really don’t want him knowing,” she’s the most gentle you’ve ever seen her. Only Utahime is privy to the softest of Shoko’s expressions but you can’t help but appreciate the look of worry she has. But I don’t want you to just up and disappear on us either.”

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I,” you licked your lips and sat down on your couch. “I’m thinking of transferring to another school.”

Shoko peers into your face, “and you’re worried about how we’ll take it?”

You shook your head. “I am worried about that but, I’m more worried about the why I need to leave. My parents will probably freak out too, but I’m going to promise them this isn’t going to stop me from pursuing my education.” Wide as her eyes already were, Shoko’s eyes were practically the size of dinner plates. You cut her off before she could say anything else. “I’m pregnant. I found out on the trip we took.”

…

“It’s Satoru’s,” it wasn’t a question.

Your silence was enough of an answer.

“You’re plan was to transfer schools because you don’t want to tell him you’re pregnant?” Shoko’s eyes were wide and you looked away from her. “[First], you can’t expect me to not tell him about-”

Your eyes snapped back to look at her, “you can’t tell him about this.”

Shoko shook her head, “this isn’t just your kid-”

“I’m the one who’s pregnant, I’m the one who decides what to do with it! It’s none of his business!”

Shoko probably would have slapped you if you weren’t expecting, “it’s his kid too, of course it’s his business!”

“Fine,” you muttered coldly, fixing your friend with a cold stare. “I’ll tell him if you can tell me you genuinely think it’s going to go well. That you can really Gojou Satoru dropping everything to become a father for a kid he never planned on having with someone he never planned on being with. Mr. Heir of the Gojou Conglomerate Satoru,” you remember his genuine fear and subsequent genuine relief. “Hell, that he won’t think I tried babytrapping him because I asked him recently if he saw what we had going anywhere and he clearly didn’t want that. And even if he doesn't, do you think his parents would be happy with this? Truly?”

Shoko couldn’t say anything.

You shook your head with a humorless huff, “yeah, that’s what I thought too.” You paused to close your eyes and inhale deeply before looking at your friend once more. “I’m not telling him anything. I don’t need his help to raise this baby, I can do this myself.”

Shoko eyes are dark and you knew she was second guessing everything. “[First]-”

“You can’t tell him anything. Not even Suguru, especially not Suguru. He’d tell him right away.” Suguru was your friend, he was a great friend even. But you knew where his loyalties lied. He’d tell Satoru in a heartbeat. “Please,” you pleaded. “I’m asking you as your friend.”

Shoko reached for the pack of cigarettes sticking out of her pocket before dropping her hand to the side. Right, your pregnancy. 

You looked at her in desperation, biting your lip. “Please, I’d never ask you this if it wasn’t important. Satoru doesn’t want me,” your eyes stung at the admission even if you accepted that truth ages ago. “Not the way I want him.”

“I,” Shoko released a shaky breath. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

You dropped out of school without a word to your friends before the month ended.

v. moon

五条・五月。

Gojou Itsuki; you considered writing that on her birth certificate when she was born. Instead, it was your last name Itsuki received.

五, that was the only part of Satoru you would give her, the ‘five’ in Gojou. You promised that little girl you would love her five times as much for his absence.

vi. flow

That all brought you back to now in the present, Gojou Satoru sitting beside you on a park bench while you daughter looked nervously between you both. “Go on then,” you sweep your hand in the direction of the swings. “I’ll be sitting right here, okay? Have some fun with the other kids.”

Yet like moth to a flame, the man with snowy white hair is all your daughter can focus on. “But who is he?”

Satoru opens parts his lips and you beat him to the introductions, “he’s just an old friend of Mama’s, that’s all. Like Aunt Shoko. We haven’t seen each other in a while and we just want to catch up, that’s all. Right?” You shoot Satoru a pleading look.

“That’s right,” Satoru beams. “Maybe I can push you on the swings later.” That makes Itsuki grin back widely. She looks so much like him that there is no denying who she is to him. You know it and so does he.

The smile drops the moment Itsuki is out of an earshot. “You really never planned to tell me about her,” his eyes that normally remind you of crystal clear seas look more akin to frigid chips of ice as he looks at you. “You stop talking to me, you block me on everything out of nowhere and when you dropped out of school, I had no idea where you were-”

“Satoru, you have to understand,” you start, it sounds weak even to you.

Satoru looks at you with a look of pure offense. You can read his mind clearly, “What is there to understand?”

“This was the best outcome for everyone involved. You, me and Itsuki.”

“That isn’t the kind of thing you decide on your own, it takes two to make a child, [First]!”

“We’re not arguing in front of my daughter, Gojou Satoru.”

“No,” the smile that spreads across Satoru’s face is feral. You’ve seen that smile before, one he had whenever he was on the brink of swinging and starting a fight. Never before had that smile been directed at you. “She’s our daughter. My daughter. And I had to find out from Shoko five years after she’s been born that she ever existed in the first place!”

“Like you wanted to be a father anyway,” you hiss, glancing at the growing concern on Itsuki’s face.

“You didn’t even bother asking me what I wanted,” Satoru snaps back. “I would have helped. I want to help.”

“I didn’t want or need your help then and I sure as hell don’t need it now,” you stand up, swinging your wrist away from the large hand that tries to stop you. “You aren’t even her birth certificate,” Satoru flinches like you shot him. “Not your name, not your birthday, not anything. Itsuki’s never even asked about her father,” a lie. It isn’t nearly so frequent as to be considered a problem, but Itsuki did ask about the whereabouts of her father every so often. “It’s just us, Itsuki, I keep telling you that.”

“Do I have another mommy then?”

“No, it’s just us.”

Still, she asks. But Gojou Satoru didn’t need to know about that. “Just go the hell away and leave us alone. I’m not asking for your help, I’ve been doing this alone so far and I plan to keep it that way.”

You take Itsuki home, telling her not to mind the sad-looking man you left on the bench.

“Before you say anything,” Shoko starts when she answers the phone. “I know you’re pissed off.”

“No shit,” you all but seethe at your closest friend. Itsuki is asleep and it takes all of your willpower to not turn a firm but loud whisper into shrieks of hysteria. “Shoko, what the-”

“[First], I had to tell him,” Shoko sighs and you can practically smell the nicotine through. “I get it, you were scared back then but Satoru deserved to know he is a father. Itsuki deserves a chance to get to know her father!”

“You don’t get to decide what my kid needs,” you retort immediately. “We have been doing just fine without him in our lives and that’s how I wanted to keep it. Now she keeps asking about the man with the white hair and why he looked so sad and-”

“This isn’t one of those situations where you had a surrogate and did this all on your own, [First]. And he isn’t some random stranger you met some campus party years ago, this is a friend! Why on earth would you tell him that you never put him on the birth certificate.”

“Was. He was a friend,” you correct her. You push back the memories of late night study sessions gone awry by Satoru shoving his phone in your face to show you some video in his recommended list. You ignore the creeping reminders of sharing shit-eating grins, waiting for the moment Suguru learned that you changed his autocorrect for chocolate into something stupid. “We haven’t been friends in years, we’re just old school acquaintances at this point. You know why I never told him about her. And I said it so he would have an out; he doesn’t need to stick around to be her father.”

“And what if she gets tired of you skirting around her questions about him?” Shoko shoots back without giving you a moment to reply that you would handle it if it ever got to the point that it became a problem. “You might be able to skirt around it now but when she gets older she is going to ask and ask and askー and she is going to keep on asking before she does research of her own! There was no way you’d be able to keep this a secret for the rest of her life, what were you planning to do then?!”

“… I was going to figure that out by then.”

“Right and that was going to go by so smoothly and Itsuki wouldn’t feel hurt or betrayed you took away the choice for her to get to know her dad. That could ruin your entire relationship with her.”

“You couldn’t have at least asked?!”

“You never let me! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I betrayed your trust and said things behind your back. I told him to at least let me call and tell you that he knew, but he wanted to meet Itsuki.”

“I just…” your back hit the wall and you slid to the floor, resting your head on your knees. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t think I would ever see him again.”

There’s silence when Shoko hesitates to reply to your tired voice, “look, I get it. As much as I can try to get it, anyway.” There is only so much that your child-free doctor of a friend can relate to when it comes to your situation. Things worked out perfectly for her when she fucked a friend, Utahime and Shoko’s names were written in the stars. You only admit your envy on lonely nights when thoughts of university days past make a reappearance.

“Satoru is a lot of things. He’s a clown, he’s insufferable and he’s Gojou Satoru that’s enough trouble as it is,” much to your chagrin, you can’t help snorting at her comment. “But he should have a chance to get to know his daughter. You’re a great mom, you’ve been doing great without him. I’ve seen you handle everything, you even went back to school to get your degree. You’ve got the job, everything. I’m not trying to say you need his help, I just want you to be open to the idea of letting him get to know her.”

You think of Itsuki and her questions and the look of hurt that graced Satoru’s face earlier that afternoon. “I don’t want Itsuki to get attached to him only for him to take off,” but a bitter taste fills your mouth at your words. I’m only using Itsuki as an excuse, you can only admit to yourself. The one who doesn’t want to see her father is me.

Fearful you may have been, it was no excuse to keep her away from her father.

“If he does that, I’ll kill him myself. But he wants to be there,” Shoko promises, her voice the softest its been the entire conversation. “He wants to get to know her. She looks just like him.”

She does.

You grab a baby wipe, rolling your eyes in amusement, “Itsuki, you’re getting syrup all over your face, hold still,” gently, you wipe away the sugary mess on her face before it dries and becomes even stickier. Itsuki always leaves the table looking like she’s been off to war. “You definitely don’t get your messy eating habits from me. Let me clean your hands and the fork too.”

Itsuki’s eyes sparkle curiously, “is Daddy a messy eater?”

You look at your daughter, her white hair pulled into pigtails by pastel knockerballs and her blue eyes that sparkle with hope that you’ll have some sort of answer as to the mystery of her secret parent she doesn’t realize she’s already met. “Yeah,” you whisper softly, the ghost of smile on your lips. “He got pretty messy whenever we ate.”

“Really?”

“Yep, and he would always steal the chips out of my bag whenever he thought I wasn’t looking,” you smile knowingly. He isn’t the only one guilty of such a crime. “Kinda like how someone always takes extra bites out of my pudding cups when she thinks I’m not looking.” Itsuki erupts into giggles as you pinch her cheeks now free of syrup. “You really want to meet your papa, don’t you,” you ask almost weakly, resting your hand on the table.

With a nod of excitement, Itsuki answers your question with an unmistakable yes.

“What if Mommy brings Daddy to pick you up from daycare soon? Would you like that?”

Itsuki gasps in disbelief, “Really?!”

Your nerves don’t show as you grin in return, “really.”

The first few rings you wait for Satoru to pick up the phone later in the day are painful.

I should have just asked Shoko to do this, you pace anxiously in the employee parking lot of your job. A childish part of you wishes you had asked your friend seeing as she had already spilled the beans to you. But you remember the more than subtle tone in her voice when she mentioned the other day that Satoru’s number hadn’t changed in all the years you spent out of his life. He’s the father of your child, [First], you scold yourself. Get a grip.

A second later when he picks up the line, you almost hang up in a panic.

“… Hey, [First],” he sounds like he’s grinning but it lacks his usual bravado. “You didn’t change your number.”

“Neither did you,” you reply nervously, fiddling with the fabric of your uniform as the expected awkward silence filled the air. Five years ago, Satoru was one of the easiest people in the world to talk to. Annoying and arrogant at times, most of the times even, but still easy. He spoke his mind clearly; it’s hard reconciling that person with the silence on the other side of the phone. “I shouldn’t have kept Itsuki from you,” you finally begin. “And I shouldn’t have said what I did yesterday, you have a right to be mad at what I did. I’m sorry.”

Satoru’s sigh is slow, “why didn’t you tell me in all these years? If Shoko never said anything, were you really not going to tell me about her at all?”

“Can we not-”

“No, I get to know why you didn’t want to let me know I had a daughter,” Satoru’s voice hardens and you know that running away isn’t an option. Old habits seem to die hard. “You didn’t even tell me you were pregnant.”

“I was scared, okay?” Scared and pathetically in love with someone who didn’t want you back. “I didn’t know how you were going to react… and I didn’t know if you would want to be part of the baby’s life if I decided to keep it. We weren’t even a couple. I freaked out and thought this was best course of action.”

“I would have helped, I would have been there. We were friends, [First],” you can’t tell if he sounds more angry or sad with your younger self’s line of reasoning. “You really thought I would have let you done everything on your own? I would have had your back from day one.”

“…. I’m sorry, I can’t take it back but I’m sorry,” you rest your back against the side of your car. The breeze on your skin doesn’t calm you as much as you’d like.

Satoru sighs again and he’s quiet, contemplative and your heart races wondering what is going through his mind. Would he curse you? Maybe he would take you to court for his parental rights. Instead, Satoru peacefully asks, “what’s she like?”

“Adorable,” your lips quirk slightly at the thought of your child. “I’m pretty sure Shoko’s probably shown you some pictures, so you probably know that already.” Painfully adorable and the entire world knew it, it’s a blessing she isn’t nearly as much of a troublemaker as her father. If she were, you don’t doubt Itsuki would get away with most of her ‘crimes’. “She’s a sweet girl, if she sees a caterpillar on the neighbor’s strawberries, she’ll pick it up and ask if we can take it to the park so it can eat there instead.”

You both share a laugh at that. “She’s smart too, she just sucks things up like a sponge. And she’s popular at daycare, you know,” she gets it from her father, that is easy to admit. Satoru definitely surpasses everyone you know, yourself included, when it comes to attracting people to him. Even when he’s annoying you can’t help but be drawn in. “She’s good at making friends, always looks out for the ones there who have a harder time connecting with people.”

“It’s nice to know she got all her charm and good looks from me,” Satoru chuckles smugly. “It’s a no-brainer the people love her, I expect nothing less from my kid.”

“Oh shut up,” yet you can’t deny his claim. She is Gojou Satoru’s daughter through and through. “She’s a lovable kid; Itsuki was born for it.”

“Was Itsuki the only name in the running?”

“It’s a pretty name, isn’t it? There were others in the running though,” you count down on your fingers the various options you ultimately decided against. “Itsuki stuck out the best.”

���What characters did you use to write her name?”

“The characters for ‘Five’ and ‘Moon’,” you answer softly, remembering the various combinations you could have gone with. Ultimately, there was only one that you could have gone with. “I got the idea from your last name, I… I wanted her to have a part of you with her even if she didn’t know you.”

There’s a pause then a shaky breath. “Gojou Itsuki,” Satoru says finally, sounding a million miles away despite being just on the other line.

“She has my name,” you tell him gently.

“I know,” Satoru replies softly yet there’s a tinge of emotion you can’t quite place. Melancholy? Acceptance? Perhaps a little bit of both. “I just wanted to try it out.”

Silence falls over you both again and you hug yourself despite the sweltering heat of the afternoon. Shoko is right, your secret wasn’t one that was sustainable. “Do you,” your lips suddenly feel too dry and you lick your lips. “Do you want to pick her up from daycare with me today? She wants to meet you, she always has. She even asked about you this morning.”

He does. It shouldn’t surprise you that he does and it doesn’t. Still, your heart pounds when you see him show up at the daycare your daughter spends a large portion of her time at. “Hi,” you greet him nervously.

“Hey,” even though he’s grinning, his smile is a bit off kilter. A sugary pink bag hangs from one his arms. “I uh, didn’t know exactly what sort of things she like but I got her a present. You said she’s really into whale sharks, right? So I got her a plush.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him Itsuki already has five. She’d love his gift anyway. Maybe the one he got her would become her favorite.

“She might adore that more than you,” you joke but you give him a nod a beat later. “But don’t worry about what happened last time. She’ll be happy to see you in a better mood, she was worried about you when we left the park.” Maybe that was the father-daughter bond at work, or maybe it was your child’s empathetic nature.

Maybe both.

You already discussed things with him after he agreed to come meet her properly. He could get to know Itsuki, could even meet the daycare attendants. It would just be a while before you’d be able to trust him with being an emergency contact.

“Hey, Choso,” you wave at the man with pigtails. Intimidating as he looks, his daycare is surprisingly popular due to the low rates. He wanted a place where his youngest brother could grow up happily with his friends. “This,” you start before Choso can question you, gesturing to Satoru. “… This is Itsuki’s father. You’ll uh, probably see him coming around a lot more when I pick her up from now.”

There’s a lengthy pause.

“Nice to meet you,” Choso’s tone says otherwise. If it were possible, Choso’s face would be place right under the definition of judgement. He is definitely deeming Satoru a deadbeat that was finally crawling out from the woodworks.

Satoru ignores it with the air of confidence he didn’t have a few minutes ago outside, “thanks for looking after my kid while [First] was busy. I haven’t been around but I’m hoping to make up for all the lost time.”

You doubt that was meant to be a dig, you still take it as one. “Itsuki’s playing with Yuuji and the rest of their friends right now. You’ll see her at the playground,” he gestures at the infant in his hands. “I have a diaper to change.”

“Don’t worry, I got it,” you wave. “And tell Kechizu that he needs to stop cooking better than me. The other day Itsuki said she liked his lunches more than mine.” That manages to get a snicker out of the man. 

“Itsuki!” You call out once you’re on the playground and you see her eyes light up with recognition and a ‘Mommy!’ Even funnier is her little excited jig before she runs over to hug you although she stops as she recognizes the man beside you.

She glances between the two of you and you smile reassuringly. “Why are you getting so shy? Don’t you remember what I promised at breakfast?”

Itsuki’s eyes widen and her jaw drops wordlessly. You suppose she might not have truly been expecting you’d make good on your promise. At least, definitely not so soon.

“Itsuki, this is Satoru, your father,” you tell her gently, smile small. “Although I suppose, you already met him yesterday. It just didn’t go at all the way it was supposed to.” But what was done was done; Itsuki deserved to know her father. You wouldn’t take away that choice because of your own fears anymore.

“Daddy?” Itsuki asks Satoru, voice just above a whisper.

Satoru nods, settling down on one knee to look her in those familiar blue eyes. “That’s right, kiddo,”

“Daddy?!” Itsuki hops in disbelief, looking between the two of you before her eyes settle on yours again. “It’s really Daddy?!” You aren’t sure if Itsuki knows whether she wants to cry or run away in disbelief that this moment is finally happening.

You knelt beside your old friend, “say hi to your father, Itsuki.”

The tears suddenly well in her eyes but despite Satoru’s panicked voice, you can tell they aren’t sad ones as Itsuki throws her arms over Satoru’s shoulders. And if your eyes are warmer than they were a few moments ago, you don’t mind it as you watch you’re daughter hug her father for the first time.

Itsuki adores Satoru, that’s what you learn in the span of a single afternoon. And yes, she does love the whale shark plush he got her more than the other five you already purchased. She cried even harder when he hugged her back, softly promising he wasn’t going anywhere. That he’d always be there and he would come see her as much as she wanted.

She adores how he took her out for ice cream before dinner and how even after dinner, he purchased even more dessert. 

He was weak to her with no immunity built up over the past five years.

This was why he couldn’t say no when she pleaded he stayed over to at least watch a movie with her before bedtime. Not that you had any room to talk considering how easily you agreed.

“So she had to get Merlin’d?” Satoru asks incredulously as the credits roll across the screen.

“That is not what was supposed to happen, the beautiful girl is subjective to the one who got cursed!” You tell him, flabbergasted that that was the conclusion he came to. Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarves is far more than a comedy. It’s social commentary! “Not to mention the body positive message it sends with the fact that shoes represent societal standards of beauty along with the objectification and idolization Snow experiences while wearing them which further supported the fact that had she had gone to the F7 as herself they wouldn’t have he-”

“Nope, too late. I like my idea better,” you could strangle this man.

“You’re going to ruin Itsuki’s perception of love,” you shoot Satoru a look of amusement and annoyance. At the very least, you know he enjoyed it.

“Good, I don’t need some snot-nosed brat trying to win over my kid that’s obviously aroace,” Satoru says firmly as he picks up your very much fell-asleep-before-the-movie-ended daughter. It’s almost uncanny how natural it looks to you, like he had been around from the start. He probably should have been. You were the one who took that choice from him and made him an unintentional deadbeat.

“Satoru, she’s five and doesn’t even know what that means yet,” you say instead, Satoru oblivious to the thoughts running around your head. One day you’d tell Itsuki the truth, once she was a little older.

“What? She told me she was aroace when I asked earlier today,” Satoru tells you petulantly, moving away when you try to hold her. 

“Only because you told her you’d give her ice cream if she agreed to be,” ice cream she wasn’t even supposed to eat because it would spoil her appetite for dinner in a moment you weren’t supposed to see. “It means you’ll love Daddy forever and think everyone else is gross,” Satoru happily exclaimed, holding a cup of Itsuki’s favorite salted cookie dough ice cream. The five year old happily obliged to his whims.

Maybe Satoru will be right in his hopeful predictions that romance will be the last thing on your daughter’s mind in the future thought. On the other hand, maybe he’d be dead wrong and forced to tolerate whoever she brings home in the future.

“They’re just like you, Dad, but they’re brilliant!” She’ll say, hearts in her eyes.

You almost wanted to manifest the opposite of his wishes, only to see the face Satoru would make. It is far too early to be thinking about such things however.

“I don’t want my kid to date anyone, sue me. So I’m manifesting early,” Satoru pouts as he starts takes her to her room to lay her across her bed.

“You’re so stupid,” you roll your eyes and shake your head in exasperation, but a look of fondness is apparent in your expression.

Maybe you were born to see this moment, the moment you could see that Gojou Satoru is absolutely smitten with his daughter. You can see it in how he presses a kiss to the temple of her forehead as he takes her to his room.

Itsuki was born to be loved, she makes it too easy just by being herself. Suddenly your fears from before felt unfounded. You knew underneath the rejection of Satoru in your life that he would have been there and he would have been more than happy to shoulder the burdens of parenthood even in a platonic way. You stop yourself from wondering what that path might have looked like. You made your choice and this is path you’re on now, there is no other way but forward.

“I’ll have you know,” Satoru points a finger gun at you smugly when he returns, child-free, “my kid thinks I’m the smartest man in the world. So one of you is lying and I know it’s not her.”

“Your kid is biased and spoiled from snacks and gifts,” you retort softly with a grin.

“I don’t hear the voices of the naysayers praying for my downfall, sorry,” you both release a chuckle at your exchange and a comfortable silence falls between you both. “I should probably get going I guess.”

You smile at him politely, “we should do this again sometime, I wanna see what else in our movie collection Itsuki will have you watch next.”

Satoru grins, “it better be the Digimon reboot DVD set I saw in the corner,” he pauses before asking you seriously, “our kid does like Digimon, right?”

“You’ll be happy to know that her favorites are Palmon, Kokomon and Wormmon in that order,” you tell him smugly. How could he think otherwise? Did he forget who you were? “The plushies are just in the toy chest she has at the foot of her bed.”

Your child had to be a fan of Digimon, she had no other choice.

translation:

五月 five moons (same character in Gojou as well as a radical in Satoru) ⤷ 五 ・ いつ - five ⤷ 月 ・ つ�� - moon

part 2 ->

[flipocrite]

I feel like it was in the best interests of America (’s elite) to be deliberately vague about the way our country educated its younger generations about fascism. I went to a magnet high school that did in fact go off-curriculum with a whole year spent analyzing 1984 in English class, but I don’t recall too much of a description of fascism in history class besides “authoritarian”, “censorship/book burning”, and “the bad guys in WWII”. This incomplete education conveys three incomplete ideas:

Authoritarian: fascism is when someone tells me I have to obey rules I don’t like, or that I will face consequences for disregarding them.

Censorship/book-burning: fascism is when people tell me I can’t use hate speech.

The bad guys in WWII: it was a thing of the past, so don’t worry about it.

Now we were smart students, we knew there was more to it. But fascism has a long, shameful, predictable history for which we as a country could have formally prepared, but chose not to. Not, I feel, because it wasn’t important, but because too many powerful people thought “hey, we might want to use some of these authoritarian tools someday, and we won’t be able to do that if people recognized where they came from”.

Maybe things would have been different if the key takeaways had been something like:

Fascism promises good things. It begins as populism, promising a return (i.e. inherently right-wing, reactionary, and not progressive) to economic normalcy/prosperity for the working-class. It promises safety, security, and comfort, like a old friend or… “older sibling”. It might introduce itself as a nationalist (or a patriot if the audience recognizes the former as a red flag), but it will not introduce itself with a handshake and “Hi, I’m evil and I like hurting people.” Historically, however, it has introduced itself bearing a flag and a catchy slogan, “Make Germany Great Again”.

Fascism preys on emotion and exploits it. It takes not just logical, but emotionally intelligent people to recognize this as it’s happening. It justifies division, violence, and distrust by stoking one’s senses of fear, anger and disgust (the three of which combine to create hate). The first thing fascism tells you is “You are fearful and angry and you need someone to blame”, and the second is “These people are disgusting, let us give them what they deserve”. Everyone believes in human rights until someone is an alleged terrorist or pedophile, after which “I’m so fearful, angry, and disgusted that I will actively disengage the rational part of myself that would otherwise seek to verify these allegations. In fact, I won’t even pause to logically acknowledge the dangers of allowing the state to torture or execute anyone subject to unverifiable accusations”. This is where English classes have a duty to drive home the fact that propaganda works best on self-proclaimed “logical/rational/unemotional thinkers”; they have simply chosen to identify their emotions as logical reasoning (e.g. conflating facts and opinions) and that makes them dangerous. Emotions are like assholes, in that everyone has them, you won’t see your own without some self-reflection, and the people who claim they don’t have one definitely have some kind of serious unexamined problem.

Fascism preys on logical thinking and destroys it. It requires a strict control of information and the narrative, and is an enemy of art, science, and journalism (c.f. lügenpresse). Its most powerful enemy, however, is truth itself, which means all institutions dedicated to credibility must be thoroughly discredited. Without truth, there can be no basis upon which logic can stand. This will manifest of course as book-banning/burning, but more subtly (and perhaps more importantly) as flooding political discourse with conspiracy theories and lies, ranging from a constant stream of small ones to the DISTRACTINGLY BLATANT. These may either be doubled down on, serve as a foot-in-the-door, or be hand-waved/forgotten as “They didn’t really mean that”. It would take dedicated teams of experts operating 24/7 to investigate and debunk such a constant stream of lies… if not for the lies “the experts can’t be trusted” and “Everyone lies anyways so it doesn’t matter”. The most effective propaganda has a clear direction and an unverifiable amount of truth. This includes the legendary “All politicians are corrupt” – i.e. “If no one is trustworthy, a logical choice is impossible… so vote with your emotions or stay home”. When fascism appears on your doorstep, it will be selling logical fallacies, and they will be emotionally justified. So when you turn on MSNBC or FOX, ask yourself even before if it is factually true: “Are they trying to tell me what I should think happened? Or are they trying to tell me how to feel about it?”

There are other signs and symptoms of a sick democracy, of course, such as “Suppression of sexuality and deviation from traditional gender roles” or “Obsession with law and order to the extent of sacrificing all privacy to a surveillance state for the promise of security”. But I am no expert to be cited with scholarly authority. This is mostly wishful thinking on my part, since none of this would be able to happen without America also recognizing the dangers of and taking protections against wealth inequality. In that sense, a nation like this was doomed from the very beginning, like watching the life cycle of a dying star.

Dictators in History:

- Hitler – “The good of the state stands above the law.”

- Mussolini – “Everything within the state, nothing outside the state, nothing against the state.”

- Napoleon Bonaparte – “I am the revolution.”

- Francisco Franco – “I am responsible only to God and to history.”

Trump:

"He who saves his country does not violate any law"

[pa-pa-patato]

Jealousy is an ugly disease, It plagues your mind making you unable to control your thoughts and actions, It clings to you tightly desperate to make you face all your ugly and cruel thoughts.

And the worst thing is that sickening feeling in your gut whenever you even dare think of a dear friend that is unknowingly the very cause your of disease.

Alice did nothing to deserve his harsh glare but that didn’t stop Cup from giving it to her, so many nasty names ran through his head as he glared at her none of which she deserved.

He simply couldn’t help it, Not when his burns every time he sees Bendy looking at her with such softness he’d never seen be aimed at him.

Stars. Just what is this man doing to him?

Why is he making me feel these things? Hasn’t it already been enough to have to hide so many things from his best friend? Noooo he had to fall in love so he’d feel even guiltier!

“Cup?” Speak of the dev-… Bendy’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “You okay?” He asked and Cup desperately tried not to look at his lips, “I’m fine” Ah yes he’ll definitely believe if you say through gritted teeth, he totally believes you.

His hand pressed against his head. And it took everything in him not to lean into his touch. ‘You feel a bit warm, are you sick?” Yes. “I’m fine bends” he’s ignoring why his face is burning right now and is again focusing solely on bendy.

He didn’t seem to believe him but let it go moving to talk with Alice again.

Jealous immediately came back making him almost nauseous, he wanted nothing more than to take Bendy away from her but not only was that ridiculous but even if he were to try Bendy wouldn’t let him. At least not without a good excuse.

Bendy was laughing, Cuphead was lost.

He felt like he was constantly drowning in Bendy yet still managed to not be able to even slightly brush against him. It was quite literally ridiculous how much this little demon has taken over his life in such a short amount of time.

He wanted to wake up to a feeling of his breath on his neck He wanted to taste his lips every moment they were together He wanted to feel him pressed against him-

Ok, maybe he should stop.

He silently got up from his seat and walked out for a very-needed smoke break, he reminded himself he should buy more soon as he exhaled.

He then heard the door open and suppressed a sigh already knowing who came out, “heya” Bendy smiled making it impossible to be annoyed with him. “I am fine Bendy really” he tried to reassure him and himself. “Calm down, I just wanted some fresh air” Cuphead raised his cigarette a bit with a knowing look that Bendy ignored as he nervously whistled looking at nothing in the distance.

Fine. He can sit here in silence.

And that’s just what he did, He said nothing letting Bendy slowly get more and more nervous beside him as he tried to figure out what to say or ask him.

He can see him opening and closing his mouth multiple times still trying to find the words, He thought about making it easier for him but he was cute like this.

“Nice… weather we’re having?” He tried. And failed. Badly, the whether was stardust. It was cold, it was windy and they didn’t have rain but instead had a few sprinkles of water fall every few minutes.

“…not nice weather we’re having?” A snort made its way past his lips winch Bendy took as a small win. “How are you on this day with this cussy weather ?” Smooth bends. Real smooth.

He seem didn’t like the blank look he gave him, “something’s bothering you” he held up his hand before he could even try to deny it. “I can feel your emotions don’t feed me some stardust of being fine or that I’m imagining things” he could smell a faint scent of metal on his hand, probably from tinkering around in his room all day. “So please tell me” his voice was weak and quiet, he wanted to say so many things to him, to share every single thought he had of him- “you can’t even look me in the eyes” Bendy spoke up glumly, making him aware that he was once again looking at his lips.

They stayed in awkward silence while Cup continued to smoking.

Cuphead caught himself looking at Bendy a few more times and while Bendy didn’t catch on that didn’t make him feel any less guilty, sure there aren’t rules against just looking but it still felt weird.

For some reason, Bendy leaned against him, “I know you can’t tell me everything but you can still tell me about your feelings- we are sharing them after all” He laughed but Cuphead could barely hear it.

How would he react? What would his response be to him explaining what exactly he was feeling for him? What kind of expression would he make when being told Cuphead wished he could kiss so hard that the shape of his lips would be forever carved in his memory? What would he do if he just kissed him?

Bendy doesn’t say anything, and neither does Cup. And If Cuphead brought his arm to hold Bendy tight, well that was their secret to keep.

[pellaaearien]

Here With Me (Chapter 8)

Dreamling | E | Caretaking, Porn With Plot | ~20k total

--

In the end, Dream reflects, it is not that it is easy to forget that he is no longer the oracle. It is just that so many things have changed in such a short span of time that none of it seems especially noteworthy.

They leave the inn at sunrise, neither of them able to sleep more than a few hours at a time despite their exhaustion. Dream is unexpectedly sorry to leave the inn behind — it had been a place of rare refuge, and will remain such in memory.

Riding astride Jessamy, with Hob’s arms encircling him from behind, it is impossible not to be reminded of his changed status, the ache between his legs beating out a tempo with every mile.

Hob, who would shield him from every discomfort, apologizes whenever he is jostled. Dream shakes his head. It feels right and proper that it should hurt, that he should carry such a permanent change in his body somehow.

Hob takes them off the road as soon as might be, following the track of a convenient stream to, as he explains, foil pursuit.

“I’m expecting Burgess to send men after us,” he says. “But perhaps only a specialized team. He’ll want to get us back to save face; to the rest of the world, he might pretend he still has you in custody.” He grips Dream tighter at the thought, and Dream is only too happy to lean into his embrace. “Otherwise, we might have had to contend with the entire kingdom hunting us down. It’s the only reason I didn’t kill him.” The darkness of his voice suggests how near of a thing it had been.

Dream hums acknowledgement. He wants to have something more useful to say, but in truth it is difficult to care about such dilemmas while ensconced in the safety of Hob’s arms. 

Hob had come for him. Out of the jaws of death, behind enemy lines. When he had taken off that helmet and revealed himself, Dream had been reborn, his world bursting back into vibrant life. Alone in his cell, Dream had sunk into the clinging depths of apathy. Upon seeing Hob, that feeling had transformed. He still feels as though nothing matters, with one caveat: so long as Hob is there, he can face whatever happens.

He is happily, entirely Hob’s, the release of his body having released him from his function. 

“After that, I’m afraid I haven’t much more of a plan,” Hob admits. “We won’t want to stay in Burgess’ kingdom, and you’d be recognized back home.”

“Oh.” Dream blinks, coming back to the present, realizing he’d never told Hob this part. “I know where we’re going.”

“You do.” Dream can’t see Hob’s expression but he suspects the only reason he doesn’t sound more surprised is his amount of trust in Dream’s abilities. 

“This vision, it was… different.” Dream thinks of how to explain. “I just… know. Where it was. How to get there.”

“Well, then, my love,” Hob says, with another kiss to the top of his head that Dream is quickly learning to expect when they ride like this. “Where are we going?” 

Dream closes his eyes, reaches inside himself for that feeling of certainty. Without opening them, he points. “That way.”

Hob leans in; Dream is surrounded by his warmth, his scent. He no longer has a function. He might, in time, learn how to be human.

“That way?” Hob murmurs next to his ear. Dream wants to wrap himself in the sound of his voice. He nods, not trusting himself to look.

“That way, then,” Hob says, and turns Jessamy without another word. 

Summer has yet to quite lose its grip on Burgess’ lands, making it warm enough to sleep under the stars as long as they have a fire going, which Hob lights once he deems they are a suitable distance from the road.

Hob has supplies with him enough for a week’s return journey, enough for two — he hadn’t considered failure an option. Dream eats the simple rations with good will, not feeling the need to mention that the fare is as good or better than what he’s been eating recently. He thinks Hob knows, anyway, as they have a brief disagreement over Hob trying to give Dream part of his share. 

“And if you were to weaken due to lack of nourishment, who would defend me, out here in the wilds?” Dream finally demands, at the end of his patience. He does not like holding Hob’s oath over him like this. But it means he prevails, Hob smiling ruefully as he finishes his portion.

Hob had only bothered with one bedroll, Dream is pleased to discover, when he unrolls it next to the banked fire. They lie down on it, curled close, and it suddenly occurs to Dream that there is no longer anything forbidding them from touching each other. That there never will be again. That he will never have to wear a chastity belt, never be locked up in another’s keeping.

As the thought occurs, Dream shifts against Hob. Perhaps not as subtly as he’d hoped, if Hob’s hum of interest is any indication.

“Need something, beautiful?” Hob murmurs, a smile in his voice, and Dream bites his lip. He wants, suddenly. Urgently. But…

“I don’t think I can—”

“Shh,” Hob soothes, tracing simple patterns over Dream’s belly. Even this casual touch is like fire, and Dream wants to be consumed. “I never would. Not so soon. Not here. You deserve better than that. But I can…” He slips his fingers lower, and Dream’s breath catches. “I want you to have as many orgasms as you want. Every single day of your life. Will you let me give that to you?”

“Yes…” Dream’s voice is high in his throat. He can’t bring himself to care. “Hob, yes—”

“Hmmm…” Hob’s fingers withdraw, and Dream nearly sobs at the loss. Hob rummages around a bit, and returns with the salve.

“That is… for your wounds,” Dream protests, but the warm slide of Hob’s fingers over his most sensitive parts, where he is sore and aching, makes it difficult to complain.

“I’ll heal,” Hob shrugs. “Let me take care of you.”

And who takes care of you? Dream thinks, but then Hob gently brushes his clit and all higher thought flees from him. 

There is no grand production here, just the press of their bodies, and Hob’s careful touches. The pleasure builds slowly, sweetly, almost imperceptibly. His climax, when it comes, takes Dream by surprise.

“Oh,” he says, once he comes down. He hadn’t known it could be like this. He’s almost disconcerted at how easily his body had gone.

“Feel better, love?” Hob says softly, withdrawing his hand. Dream nods, a floaty sense of well-being flooding him. He has a vague thought that there’s a very important question he ought to be asking, but he’s asleep before he figures out what it should be.

Burgess looms over him, curled up as small as possible on the stone floor. “So, you were useless after all,” he hisses. “Not a single prophecy? What is the point of you?” There is a line of men standing behind Burgess, their faces in shadow. The core of him already aches. In front of him, Hob lies staring up at the ceiling with blank, lifeless eyes, his blood spreading in an ever-growing pool. He opens his mouth to scream, but nothing comes out.

Dream wakes, and doesn’t know where he is. 

It’s dark; the ground is cold and hard beneath him. Is he still in his cell? Was the rescue, Hob being alive, all a dream, and this the reality?

He lies very still. Perhaps if he doesn’t move, pretends he hasn’t woken, then he might find his way back to the place where Hob was caring for him.

“Dream?” Hob’s voice, heavy with sleep, comes from behind him. Dream squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to decide if he is dreaming or waking. Wishing he saw anything behind his lids but Hob’s lifeless eyes. “Wuzzit?”

The body behind him stirs. Dream doesn’t look, can’t look. If this is a dream, then he refuses to open his eyes and ruin it.

“Love, are you hurt?” Dream shakes his head. “Can you open your eyes for me?” He shakes his head again. “Why not?”

“You’ll be gone,” Dream blurts out, seized by the utter conviction that this is so.

“I’m not going anywhere, darling,” Hob’s voice says. “I promise. And I always keep my promises, don’t I?” He sounds so sad and concerned that Dream opens his eyes, willing to do anything for Hob.

Hob’s face is hovering over him, just visible in the darkness. Dream can’t make out the look in his eyes, and for a moment he’s just like those shadow-faced men, then he blinks and he’s just Hob again. Dream whimpers.

“Hob?” He doesn’t know what to believe.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Hob cups his face, and Dream grips his hand for dear life, the proof of something real. “What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

“You were dead,” Dream whispers, as though saying it more loudly would draw attention. “And I was alone…”

“Shh, dove.” There are lips against his, clumsy and warm and real, and Dream sobs. “You’re never going to be alone, not while I’m here, and I am so alive.” 

He shifts, and somehow Dream ends up nestled on top of him like before. “Here, darling. Hear my heartbeat?” 

He cards his hands through Dream’s hair, pressing his head against his chest, until Dream has calmed sufficiently to hear the thrum of his pulse.

“Hob,” Dream sobs, pressing closer to that vital sound.

“It’s all right, love. I’ll remind you as many times as you need. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Dream huffs. He doesn’t see the point of responding to such a ridiculous statement. 

“We’re using the rest of the salve on your wounds,” he says instead.

Hob’s chest rises and falls in a sigh. “As you wish, my love.”

[bigmpregnm]

Wrestling the Changes - Part 3

[Story Collection] | [Part 2] [●] [Part 4🔴]

Hayden couldn’t keep his hands off his abdomen on the way to his hometown. The scene in the doctor’s office repeated in his head as he tried to process what was happening to him. His secret encounter with Marcus was also on repeat in his head. Hayden and James weren’t exclusive, but they were having kids together, changing some things. His pregnancy had so many negative implications that he didn’t know where to start.

He was young, only starting college, and his parents still paid all his expenses. He couldn’t afford to raise one baby, so having six was crazy. He was on the wrestling team, a contact sport that would be risky in his condition, and the team’s captain was the father of the babies. And the most shocking part: he was a man. He shouldn’t be able to get pregnant, but here he was, thinking about how to tell his parents, James, the coach, and the team that he was pregnant.

Hayden wore a loose-fitting t-shirt and a thick jacket to hide the slight curve of his growing abdomen, with oversized pants to hide his thickening ass and thighs. He wanted to keep his pregnancy a secret from his parents and brother at all costs, at least until he found out how to tell them that his career as a wrestler was over.

Hayden’s parents picked him up at the bus terminal, happy to have him back for the winter break. They asked many questions about wrestling, and even though his mind was full of many thoughts, Hayden responded to make them feel proud. Their living room was full of Hayden’s trophies, medals, certificates, and photos of his wrestling career in his high school years, so it was an important topic for them.

As they arrived home, Hayden’s 12-year-old brother, Noah, ran to hug him tight, excitedly greeting him. Noah had just entered his school’s wrestling team, and it seemed like he was as good as Hayden. Noah admired Hayden and was determined to follow in his brother’s steps.

“Hey, big bro,” Noah exclaimed, throwing himself into Hayden’s arms. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, little man,” Hayden replied, lifting Noah in a hug and pushing his belly against the boy’s body. “How is wrestling going?”

“Great! I’ve won all the matches since I started. The coach says I’m as good or even better than you were at my age,” Noah responded, proud to be compared with Hayden.

“That sounds great, but... you have a long way to go before you catch up with me,” Hayden said, putting Noah down as they entered the house.

Over the next few days, Hayden enjoyed the home-cooked meals, the warm hugs from his family, and the festive spirit of the holidays, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious about his secret. He often moved his hand to his abdomen in a protective manner, trying to hide his belly and checking if everything felt okay. It was still hard to believe that he had six lives inside him, so he had to touch his belly to remind himself that it was all true.

His morning sickness persisted, but it was more manageable, making way for an excessive hunger that frequently attacked him. He often woke up in the middle of the night to have a snack, even though he had devoured large portions of his mom’s meals. Remembering that he had to tell James about the pregnancy in a few days only increased his anxiety, leaving him starving.

Hayden couldn’t stop touching his belly, marveling at how firm it was and wondering how big he would get. Part of him thought he could hide his pregnancy until the end of the season in March, but he knew it was unlikely. He thought about his options, not knowing what to do but aware that he needed to tell James first.

On December 30th, Hayden and his family went to the championship. He was nervous because he had to wear his singlet, which hugged his body like a second skin, showing off the curve of his abdomen. Also, Hayden was hesitant about wrestling because it could hurt the babies, but couldn’t come up with an excuse to avoid it. And finally, he was nervous about facing James and telling him the truth.

Hayden put on his red wrestling singlet, which felt tighter than ever. The stretchy fabric hugged his abdomen, accentuating the curve where his chiseled abs used to be. The singlet strained around his massive ass, emphasizing the size of his bulge at the front. Hayden’s 220-pound body turned heads on his team, the opponents, and the audience, making him feel even more nervous.

Fans cheered, and competitiveness filled the gym. Hayden took a deep breath and faced the matches, focusing on making his parents, Noah, the coach, and James proud of him. The day was long, and Hayden was exhausted by the end of it, but his team performed exceptionally well, winning all their matches. They couldn’t stop smiling when the announcer declared the team the champions.

They went out to celebrate and have pizza together. Hayden acted like nothing was happening but couldn’t stop looking at James. The big man looked so happy and confident that Hayden was nervous about the possible reaction. Then, he looked at Marcus and remembered how much he had enjoyed having sex with the tall man, but he thought things wouldn’t work with him now that he was pregnant.

As James excused himself to go to the bathroom, Hayden also excused himself and followed the captain. Hayden hesitated to enter the bathroom for a few seconds, not knowing how to tell James the truth. Then, James opened the door and found Hayden caressing his abdomen.

“Oh, hey. You didn’t have to wait outside; there are several stalls in there, and... it’s not like you haven’t seen it all already anyway,” James said, winking and smiling at Hayden. His cocky attitude had only increased with their victory.

“No, I only wanted to talk. I have something important to tell you,” Hayden said, pushing James back into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “I don’t know where to start.”

“I’ll start then. Man, you looked hot with the singlet. That ass of yours, fuck! Better than the day we met,” James said, approaching Hayden and reaching for his huge ass.

“Yeah, about that day. I... hmm... what we did in the locker room,” Hayden said as James massaged his ass, making him moan. “James, stop it for a second, hmm, please.”

“What we did in the locker room was great, and I think we both deserve Part 2 after today’s events,” James said, leaning in to kiss Hayden’s neck.

“James, listen… I…” Hayden tried to talk as he lost himself in James’ touch. “James, I’m pregnant. You got me pregnant that day after practice,” Hayden said as James stopped what he was doing.

“What? Is this some foreplay? Because I’m totally in,” James said, grinning and pressing his body tighter against Hayden’s again. “We hardly know each other, but I would have some babies with you,” James playfully said, thinking it was a joke.

“No, it’s true. I went to see a doctor a few days ago, and I found out I have a womb, and... you put six babies in me that day. I’m 12 weeks pregnant with sextuplets, and they’re yours,” Hayden said between moans, snapping James out of his trance.

The captain froze for a few seconds, expressing his conflicted emotions and asking many questions about the pregnancy. He looked nervous and scared. Hayden was terrified that James would run away, leaving him alone with the babies, but after some thoughtful moments, James smiled and hugged Hayden.

“This is the craziest shit ever, but if you say we’re having six babies together, then I’ll be the best dad ever,” James said, kneeling before Hayden to lift the hem of his t-shirt. James revealed Hayden’s slightly round abdomen, where his babies were growing. “So, hey there, little ones. I’m your dad. Your daddy just told me about you, and you should know that I’ll be by your daddy’s side all along. He’s stubborn; he wrestled all day even though he knew you were inside him,” James said to Hayden’s abdomen, kissing it to emphasize his promise.

“I’m surprised you didn’t freak out. I was nervous. Nobody knows about this. I don’t know what to do,” Hayden said, worried but enjoying James’ touch.

“We’ll find a way to tell them, but not yet. Let’s wait a few days. Let’s hope you don’t get too big to hide this. I think I overdid it that day. Six babies is a lot, but what can I say? I’m a stud,” James said, proud of knocking Hayden up with sextuplets.

****

When Hayden returned to school, his life became a delicate balancing act of keeping his pregnancy a secret, attending classes, and maintaining his commitment to the wrestling team. The Conference and National Dual Meets were approaching, adding pressure to Hayden’s complicated situation. His belly grew rounder with each passing day, making it more difficult to hide it.

Even though Hayden was anxious about the whole thing, he felt nice whenever James approached to touch his belly when the team was distracted. James would pull Hayden aside to rub his belly or talk to their babies. Their status hadn’t changed: they weren’t boyfriends, but James was excited about becoming a dad, and Hayden loved the attention.

Hayden’s belly was evident by mid-January. The round shape on his abdomen was still visible when he wore loose clothes, and the snug material left nothing to the imagination when he wore his singlet. His entire frame looked thicker, his belly was rounding out, and his ass had grown even thicker, just like his legs and arms.

The team traveled to various locations to compete against teams from across the region, making Hayden feel permanently exhausted due to his pregnancy symptoms and the many activities they had to attend. The matches were grueling, pushing him to his limits, but he managed to win them all. Everything was becoming challenging as his belly grew, but everything felt better because James stayed close, making sure Hayden felt alright.

“What if we wait until the end of the month to tell everyone? They’ve noticed your belly, but maybe they won’t get too suspicious,” James said in the captain’s small room in the lockers after practice in mid-January, with Hayden in his arms, cuddling while caressing his belly.

“You must be kidding. I’ll be as big as a house by the end of the month. My singlet can barely hold on around my abdomen, my ass, and my balls. Everything is getting so tight, and... my nipples are so sensitive,” Hayden said, prompting James to move his hands to the younger man’s pink nipples.

“So, sensitive? Why didn’t you mention that before?” James playfully said, rubbing around Hayden’s nipples and making him moan and gasp. “And even if everybody notices you’re getting thicker, as long as you keep winning all the matches against other teams, you’ll be fine. And you’ve been performing exceptionally well. You did great yesterday.”

“Hmm… But it’s getting harder. I’m 14 weeks pregnant with six babies. Six! I get tired so fast, and I feel so heavy. Also, I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive another match without my singlet bursting due to my own growing body,” Hayden said between moans while James continued playing with his nipples.

“Well, if that ever happens, I bet our team will get even more fans, which is good. Everybody will know you’re carrying our future champs,” James said, moving his hands to Hayden’s belly and then to his ass. “And we all would get a great show with this massive butt on full display.” James firmly squeezed Hayden’s ass, making the pregnant guy chuckle as he realized that James was hooked on his body even though they weren’t in a relationship.

****

Hayden’s weight continued to increase as January progressed. His symptoms persisted, but he dealt with them, and by the end of the month, he weighed 238 pounds and had to get a bigger singlet to accommodate his growing body. Most of the weight was centered in his belly, now a noticeable and firm swell straining against his clothing. His ass and thighs had also grown thicker, adding to the challenge of concealing his condition.

He managed to survive all the matches during January, but Hayden knew he was running out of time. The coach repeatedly pointed at his weight gain, even though Hayden won all his matches. They were all worried, but James insisted they had to wait a little longer to avoid the coach expelling Hayden from the team.

However, as great as Hayden performed on the mat, the coach ordered him to do additional workouts with Tyler to maintain adequate conditioning. Tyler had a sturdy build, which made him look strong and thick. Hayden had always admired the junior’s physique, marveling at his broad pecs and strong core.

“You’re running late, buddy,” Tyler said as Hayden entered the gym one night at the end of January. His natural confidence made Hayden smile. “But don’t worry, I won’t tell the coach that you’re getting slower.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I got caught up with stuff,” Hayden said, moving his hand to his 16-week pregnant abdomen like he was trying to protect it from Tyler’s judgment. “Give me a second to change into my singlet.”

“No, we won’t be doing any wrestling tonight; shirtless and shorts will do fine,” Tyler said, approaching Hayden with a cocky grin. “You’ve been looking thicker. I’m not sure if you’re trying to bulk up, but I think you’re not doing it correctly,” Tyler added as he stood before Hayden. Tyler was 2 inches taller and got so close that Hayden felt his fresh mint breathing against his face.

“Eh, no, I’m not bulking. I’m just struggling with stuff. Class, the team, and... you know how this is,” Hayden said, feeling Tyler’s abs rub against his belly. “But I would appreciate it if you helped me keep up with my workouts. I can’t deny I’ve been gaining some weight.”

“Hmm… sure. Some weight,” Tyler grinned, patting Hayden’s belly as he moved away. “Let’s start with some jogging to warm up. Take the T-shirt off. I want to see those muscles in action.”

Hayden sighed and, unable to escape, removed his t-shirt and revealed the full extent of his “weight gain” on his upper body. Tyler’s eyes widened when he saw Hayden’s belly, ignoring it as best he could. Tyler started jogging, asking Hayden to follow him, randomly changing his speed to get the blood flowing. It was a simple warming-up exercise, but Hayden struggled to keep up. The added weight and the discomfort in his abdomen made each movement feel heavier, leaving him breathless only a few minutes later.

“You okay, man? You won’t tell me a big man like you already got tired,” Tyler said, his tone friendly but sarcastic.

“I’m fine. I need a minute to catch my breath,” Hayden replied, absentmindedly rubbing his belly and moving his other hand to the small of his back, leaving Tyler confused.

“Man, you need to tell me what’s going on. What’s up with the gut and all the rubbing?” Tyler asked, approaching Hayden to get his hands on his belly.

“It’s nothing. I had too many snacks, I guess. I’m fine,” Hayden said, moving his hand off his belly but keeping the other one on his back.

Tyler got behind Hayden and started massaging his shoulders, making Hayden gasp and softly moan. “You seem to be under a lot of stress; let me help you with that,” Tyler said, massaging Hayden’s back. “I think you need a good massage, but you should give your back a break first. Let’s get you on your back on a bench to release some of the pressure.”

Hayden couldn’t help but groan in relief at Tyler’s massage, so he followed the taller man and did what he was told. Hayden lay on his back on a bench, the position only accentuating the curve of his belly. Tyler sat beside Hayden’s head and firmly massaged his pecs as more moans escaped the pregnant guy’s lips due to his sensitive nipples.

Tyler’s massage continued over Hayden’s firm abdomen, making him gasp. He was worried Tyler would notice his belly was too firm to be fat, but another concern rose as his dick got hard in his shorts. His big dick strained the material, making Tyler chuckle as he moved his hands to Hayden’s lower abdomen, down to the base of his dick.

“This feels so good,” Hayden mumbled as Tyler stood up and focused the massage on Hayden’s lower body.

“I know. I can tell you’re enjoying this,” Tyler said as he massaged Hayden’s powerful thighs and hips. “Your dick won’t let you hide it.” Tyler moved his hands to Hayden’s crotch and rubbed his big bulge through the fabric.

“Could you take my shorts off?” Hayden said, moaning and groaning while Tyler continued playing with his dick. “Please.”

Tyler grinned and quickly removed Hayden’s shorts and jockstrap, immediately doing the same to be naked like his teammate. Hayden moaned more when Tyler’s hands came into direct contact with his dick and bull balls. Tyler moved his hands lower between Hayden’s thighs, trying to reach his ass to tease him. Hayden willingly spread his legs to give Tyler as much access as possible to his ass.

“Is this some kind of invitation?” Tyler asked, getting between Hayden’s legs.

“It is. You’re making me feel so good,” Hayden asked, lifting his legs to emphasize the invitation. “Do whatever you want.”

Tyler didn’t hesitate to take Hayden’s legs over his shoulder while getting on top of him. He rubbed his dick against Hayden’s ass, sending shivers down his spine. His dick wasn’t as long as Hayden’s, but it was outstandingly thick. When Tyler pushed his hips forward to fit his dick into Hayden’s ass, he found little resistance, and his dick slid in quickly, even though it was a tight fit. Hayden moaned out loudly, making Tyler grin.

“Fuck. This ass feels better than I’ve been imagining since the day we met,” Tyler whispered into Hayden’s ears, who gasped uncontrollably.

“Have you been imagining how it would feel?” Hayden asked between moans.

“Yeah. And it’s a lot better than I expected,” Tyler replied, bucking his hips to fuck Hayden. “I’m sure you’ll love this, but if you want me to stop, just tell me.”

Hayden responded with moans as Tyler’s hips sped up. The bench creaked under their weight and the force of Tyler’s thrusts. Hayden was high on pleasure, but while Tyler pounded hard, he moved his hands to his abdomen, thinking about his pregnancy. He was pregnant with James’ kids and had fucked Marcus in that same gym eight weeks ago, but Tyler was making him feel so good that he only wanted more.

“Harder, please. You’re so thick,” Hayden mumbled, igniting Tyler’s overconfident ego.

“Remember, you begged for it,” Tyler said, leaning forward to kiss Hayden’s cheeks as his hips bucked harder and faster, making Hayden moan even louder.

Hayden was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even notice his dick was leaking buckets of pre-cum over his own abdomen while Tyler’s dick leaked like an open faucet inside him. Hayden felt his abdomen getting slightly more bloated, but he didn’t want Tyler to stop; he loved how the thick dick felt deep inside his guts. The fucking continued for what felt like an eternity, and Hayden’s mind was blank; he couldn’t get enough of Tyler’s dick.

“I hope you don’t mind me finishing inside you,” Tyler asked as he felt his balls ready to explode. “You already look bloated anyway.”

“Do it. Cum inside me,” Hayden managed to say, and immediately felt a wave of warm cum coating his guts and filling him up to the brim.

Hayden groaned in pleasure, and his dick started shooting massive globs of cum over his abdomen as his belly tightened and inched outward between his and Tyler’s bodies. Hayden placed his hands on his belly, and he felt it expand in all directions beneath his palms. He didn’t know if it was Tyler’s cum filling him up so much, but the sensation was so overwhelming that Hayden almost passed out from pleasure.

By the time both guys stopped cumming, Hayden’s belly was at least an inch and a half thicker than before the fucking. Tyler kept his dick inside for a while, their sweaty bodies glistening under the gym’s lights as they caught their breaths.

“I think this was a great workout,” Tyler said, finally pulling his dick out.

“It was, and I wouldn’t mind getting fatter if that meant we’d be doing this more often,” Hayden replied, aware that he was only getting thicker over the next few months. Tyler only laughed and leaned forward to kiss Hayden’s belly, which looked tighter and rounder than a few minutes ago.

...

[starshideurfics]

A Mother’s Love - Part Four

part one, part two, part three

omegaverse, pre-steddie, wayne x benny, steve with powers

Eddie’s not sure why Wayne needs his help after school on Tuesday, but it gets him out of the house. Not that Wayne is too forthcoming about what’s going on, and the one time Eddie asks Wayne just says, “I’m not the best at explaining it.”

He’s even more confused when they pull up to a big house outside Loch Nora, and Wayne knows enough to cut him off with a gruff, “We’ll answer everything inside.”

Which is how Eddie ends up sitting at a fancy dining room table with Wayne, Mr. Hammond, Steve Harrington, and Mrs. Harrington. All the adults are looking at Eddie. Steve is looking at his lap.

“I’m sure this seems odd to you, Eddie,” Mrs. Harrington says, “But for today, I was hoping you and Steve could just talk. It will help me find a baseline.”

Eddie tilts his head to the side, looking up at her. “Baseline for what?”

“For how Steve reacts to you.”

Looking back to Wayne, Eddie stands and whispers, “Why am I here, Wayne? Really?”

“Because Benny asked,” Wayne whispers back.

His voice get’s louder. “So? I still don’t-”

He’s cut off by a small, quiet voice. “Mom and M- Benny think you can help, since you helped before…” Steve is still looking down, hands on the sides of his head like it’s too loud in the room.

Eddie looks around at the grown-ups, all their serious faces. “You really just want us to talk?” he asks Mrs. Harrington.

“Yes, just talking for today.”

“Okay but… Not if you’re watching us, it’d just…”

Be weird? Awkward? Impossible maybe.

“Steve, why don’t you take Eddie outside? You can sit by the pool.”

Steve doesn’t answer, just nods and gets to his feet. Eddie notices Benny squeezes his shoulder. He’s still *so* confused.

But he lets Steve lead him out through the sliding doors into the backyard, the spring air cool, but not cold. They sit across from each other at the patio table. Eddie rests his hands on the glass just long enough for the cold to be uncomfortable. “So… What are we supposed to talk about?” Eddie asks, picking at a hangnail.

“Anything, I guess…” Steve returns. He shrugs, pulls his hands inside the sleeves of his Hawkins Middle Swim Team hoodie. He’s still looking down. “Thanks… For, you know, getting me to Wayne.”

“Wayne always knows what to do,” Eddie says softly with a shrug of his own. “He’s always able to answer my questions since-” Eddie freezes. He can’t think about her right now.

“Since?” When Eddie looks up, Steve’s eye’s are shiny.

“Doesn’t matter…”

“You miss her.”

“What’re you talking about?” Eddie growls, confused. Scared.

Steve rubs at his temples. “I can feel it. Not supposed to talk about it.”

“I thought the whole point was us talking.”

“Not about this!” Steve is breathing too fast, shallow.

Eddie holds up his hands. Breathes slow and deep. Waits for Steve to match him. “What aren’t you supposed to talk about, Steve?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Steve hunches in on himself, takes a deep breath. “I feel things.”

“Everyone feels things, that’s being a person.”

Eddie realizes he must have sounded snarky saying it because Steve lifts his head and makes a face. “I feel things that aren’t mine to feel.”

Eddie takes a minute to really think about the words Steve has used and what he has said. Part of him wants to say, ‘Sounds like you’re sticking your hand in other peoples’ pants.’ To make a joke of it. Because if Steve really means it *like that* then he’s- “How? I mean… How do you know they aren’t your feelings?”

“Because they don’t start out here,” Steve says softly, patting his chest. “I don’t really hear them, no words, but if there are too many they fill my head and it hurts.”

“Even if the feelings aren’t painful ones?”

“I dunno. Usually, if there are enough to hurt, the big ones are the painful kind.”

Eddie drums the fingers of his right hand on the table. “So it started when you presented, all the feelings? You some kinda X-Man?”

Steve shakes his head. “I think I’ve always had it. I just used to be able to… turn it down? It used to be like a radio playing a couple rooms away, and then it was like the volume was turned all the way up. Like I was standing with my ear pressed to the speaker.”

“Can you feel my feelings now?” Eddie leans forward, like he’s ready to pounce.

“Yours are all over your face,” Steve replies with a grin. “But yeah, I can. You’re like a puppy, wagging your tail so hard your whole body shakes.”

He feels about ready to shake out of his seat, tilts his head, and smiles. Then he closes his eyes, and chases his excitement away with his go-to said thoughts.

“I’m sorry you lost her.”

“I thought you couldn’t hear anything. No words?”

“Big feelings have impressions. Yours feel familiar. Like Mama’s.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as the type to say mama, Harrington.”

“Fuck off,” Steve says, still grinning.

❤️❤️❤️

Eddie’s emotions are LOUD. But Steve likes them, at least the excited ones, and Eddie has trouble holding back the excited ones.

They talk for more than an hour, Eddie trying to project different emotions, but sadness is the only one that can push through his fascination with what Steve can do. With the fact that this is real. It’s fun for Steve too, even if it leaves him exhausted.

When they head inside, Eddie agrees to keep helping and Steve tells his mom how it went. Wayne takes Eddie home, and Steve hides his face against his mama’s chest as Benny rubs his back. His headache calms right away, and he wishes he could fall asleep there, just stay pressed to Mama’s sweet apple scent where he’s safe. Steve knows he can’t, that he needs to be able to go to school without barfing and he wants to be able to hang out with friends. He wants to have a life.

“That seems like it was a good first session,” Marsha says softly, and Steve knows she’s talking to Benny more than to him. “Tomorrow will be more controlled.” She pets through Steve’s hair. “I’m glad you boys got along.”

“Eddie’s a good kid,” Benny agrees. He pulls back, looking down at Steve. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

❤️❤️❤️

The next day, Steve and Eddie talk inside, Marsha asking questions to prompt Eddie’s emotions. Or she tries to, but Eddie’s parked at nervous and embarrassed, which is jittery but muted in Steve’s head.

She turns to her son, asks, “Honey, think you can try what we practiced last night? I can see that I’m a confounding variable.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Mom.”

Marsha squeezes his shoulder and heads to the kitchen where Wayne and Benny are waiting.

“You don’t need to be scared of my mom,” Steve says with a smirk as Eddie slouches in relief.

“I’m not scared! This is just weird, I can’t just turn on being angry!” His voice is sharp, face red, but he keeps his volume low. Irritation itches behind Steve’s teeth.

“You seem fine at it now.” Steve shrugs. Eddie’s annoyance spikes and Steve flinches. He closes his eyes, tries to imagine a wall in his mind like his mom walked him through last night, but it only dulls Eddie’s emotions in his head a little. He pushes at them on instinct, pain building-

“Shit, Steve! Are you okay?” Eddie is all sharp panic now, bigger than the anger, and Steve can hear him get up from his chair, a warm hand against his. The panic warms, turns to care, like worry, but softer, and a tissue is pressed into his hand.

He feels it then, the trickle of blood from his nose. He pushed too hard. “I’m fine, sorry. I should have warned you; Mom didn’t think it would happen with only you here.” Steve holds the tissue to his nose. “But this is good, more information for the experiment.”

“Should I go get your mom?”

“No, I just need a minute. And I don’t want to scare Mama more.”

Steve feels Eddie’s confused look before he sees it. “I don’t think anything scares your mom. Not this stuff, at least.”

“I thought Wayne told you. Mama said he knows…” Steve checks the tissue, moves it so he can track whether the bleeding has slowed. “I’m adopted.”

“Oh!” Eddie’s surprise is bright, but it dulls quickly as he thinks, putting together the pieces. “That’s why Benny cares so much.”

“I should thank you for that, too. Wayne’s got some of Mama’s stuff in his nest… I might not have found him without you.” When Steve starts crying, it’s all his own big emotions fueling his tears.

Another tissue makes its way into Steve’s hand. “Benny must be a great mama. You’re lucky, Steve.” Eddie’s sadness is back, bone deep and cold, feeling so much like the pain that scarred his mama’s heart. “Two moms to look out for you…”

Steve reaches for Eddie’s fingers and squeezes hard. “You’re lucky, too. You have Wayne.”

“Yeah…” There’s anger now, underneath the pain, and Steve doesn’t want to push it away; he wants to help, to share the load. They’re quiet together for a long time, Steve still holding Eddie’s fingers as they both calm down.

“Do you want to stop?” Steve asks gently, checking his nose again, the bleeding completely stopped.

Eddie shakes his head, purses his lips like he’s really thinking. “Is there anything that makes the radio quieter?”

Steve answers instantly, “Mama.”

Eddie nods, like it makes perfect sense. “What if you imagine Benny here, turning down the radio.” His excitement is rising, warm and loud, so loud.

Taking a deep breath, Steve thinks of Mama, sweet apples and solid arms around him, strong hand on the volume knob, twisting it to the left—

And everything softens. His own excitement spikes, his grip on Eddie’s fingers tightens as he jumps to his feet and drags him into the kitchen to review their findings.

❤️❤️❤️

The next day is the real test, taking Steve out in public. He practices again with Eddie, and then his mother takes him to the grocery store. It isn’t too bad, there are few big feelings at Bradley’s Big Buy, but enough for Marsha to be comfortable sending Steve back to school on Friday.

School is a challenge, especially with how Tommy and Carol are looking at him in the hallway. The whispers when he walks past. His mother called him out with a stomach bug, but there’s pity mixed in with all the other soupy, hormonal teenage emotions now. Being an omega made Steve weak.

He shakes his head, shakes away his own feelings of inadequacy—no matter how much his parents assure him otherwise, he still feels broken—and imagines Mama turning down the volume on the radio. When it’s still too loud, he pictures Mama’s hands over his ears, protecting him from being overwhelmed, smelling like safety and home.

That’s enough. Steve feels almost normal as he takes his seat in Mr. Clarke’s class. He smiles when his teacher welcomes him back, keeps it in place when he’s handed his make-up work. Heats and ruts may be fully excused absences (except for tests), but illnesses don’t get you out of doing the work you miss. Mr. Clarke is nice enough to give Steve a Milky Way bar at the same time. “Happy early birthday, Steven.”

“Thank you, sir.” Steve’s barely thought about his birthday. He was supposed to have a sleepover with Tommy, but his mother has already called to cancel with Tommy’s mother. It wouldn’t be right for an omega to have a sleepover with anyone but another omega, even an unpresented pup like Tommy.

Steve doesn’t want to have a sleepover anyway. And definitely not with Tommy. Or with Carol for that matter. She had her first heat over winter break; maybe she expects to take Tommy’s spot as Steve’s best friend because of it.

He does his best to avoid them both in the halls and in the classes they share, and at lunchtime he hides in the same stairwell as Jonathan Byers. They don’t talk; it’s great.

Steve slips a few times throughout the day, including a bad spell in Gym where he needs to sit down with his head between his knees, but each time he puts his barriers back in place. It gets easier every time he does.

By the time his mom picks him up from school—he wasn’t allowed to bike—he’s comfortable saying, “I think I’ve got it under control,” as he climbs into the passenger seat.

“That’s good, honey, wonderful. But I don’t want you testing your limits right now, do you understand? Don’t put yourself in a position to lose control.”

“I know.” Steve stares out the window, looks up into the branches of the trees with their green buds. “For my birthday, can we invite Mr. Munson and Eddie? Since it’s just dinner now?”

“It’s a bit of a short notice, but I think that sounds like just the thing.”

❤️❤️❤️

The rest of the school year flies by after that. Steve keeps to himself, joins the track team so he can run alone and still do a sport. The competition is with himself more than with others, no one gets in his face with their feelings.

He spends the summer hanging out at Benny’s or swimming. Steve has Eddie over to swim at least once a week, and they ride their bikes around town with Eddie’s friend, Ronnie. Steve thinks Ronnie is the coolest beta girl he’s ever met. Ronnie doesn’t seem to think much of Steve at all, which just makes her cooler.

People have started talking about what a shame it is that the Harrington boy fell in with the likes of Al Munson’s son. The talking gets worse in August, when Al gets arrested again for felony theft. It’s his third strike, so he won’t be out of prison for a long while.

Eddie officially moves in with Wayne, or rather, Wayne moves in with Eddie since Al had a little two-bedroom place to Wayne’s one, right before school starts again in September. Steve tags along with Mama to help Wayne move his stuff in and to box up some of Al’s junk.

The boys helping quickly becomes Steve and Eddie hanging out on the couch, watching daytime TV. “What if we don’t have the same lunch period?” Steve asks as a commercial starts.

“There are only two, it’s a 50/50 shot. And if not, maybe you’ll be in the same period as Ronnie. Or you could do what I do: find an empty table and read.”

“Read?”

“Yeah, read.”

“Nope, not gonna work.” Reading takes too much focus, asks him to empathize with the characters. It turns the volume back up, so Steve only reads alone in his room now.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to change my schedule if it comes to that. Can’t leave you to suffer the Hawkins High cafeteria on your lonesome, X-man.”

Steve perks up, leans forward in his seat to get a better look at Eddie, the older boy still staring ahead at the television. “You’d really do that for me?”

“Course I would, Stevie. You’re my best friend.”

❤️❤️❤️

Steve’s worries are unfounded; he and Eddie have first lunch along with Ronnie and Matt. Matt plays the drums and he’s helping Eddie start his D&D club since they need to actually write and turn in a proposal for it, and Ronnie only says she’ll join but she’s not being in charge of shit.

Lots of their lunchtime talk is complaining about school, most of the rest is D&D and movies and books. Steve is usually quiet, Eddie’s pet freshman who has no interest in playing D&D (because of the big emotions, he wants to hang out with Eddie), and who is very slowly working his way through The Hobbit so he at least knows what they’re all talking about.

He’s better with Star Wars, saw it 3 times in theaters just like everyone else and their mother. He likes Star Trek, but it never comes up in conversation, and he reads plenty, but it’s mostly Mills and Boon romance novels. Steve will never admit it, but gets wet reading about the omega heroine’s dresses being torn, their alphas too impatient to touch, the biting kisses over milk-white breasts; his pussy aches as they are thrown down and ravished. He’s pretty sure no one is ever going to ravish him.

Eddie starts talking about needing money to save up for an electric guitar, and Steve says without thinking, “Ask Mama, he’d hire you.”

The table goes quiet. Steve covers his face with his hands and mutters, “Shit,” under his breath. He’s not supposed to talk about it, for safety. Mom and Mama both say it isn’t safe, and he doesn’t *know* why, but he can guess.

“Mama’s what we’re calling Benny, since Wayne is always mooning over him,” Eddie covers. “Not like I’m a good enough reason not to make a move, whole town thinks we’re queers and freaks anyway…”

Ronnie nods and Matt offers Steve a tiny smile. They both think Steve accidentally outed someone. Thank god for Eddie and his quick thinking, saving the whole thing.

“You’re right, Stevie, he probably would if I asked.” Eddie smiles, moves the conversation along, and Steve is quiet the rest of lunch.

He decides that night that he needs something to keep him busy besides running, homework, and tagging along with Eddie. “Hey, Mom,” he pipes at dinner, “I was thinking of maybe starting baby-sitting. Make my own money, spend time with pups.”

Marsha smiles indulgently at him. “Do you remember, when you were six, asking for a little brother?” Steve shakes his head, and she goes on, “I think it’s a great idea. Good practice. I’ll ask around, see if anyone needs you.”

❤️❤️❤️

A week later, he’s knocking on recent divorcee, Claudia Henderson’s door.

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 16th February ✨

This week has been an absolute rollercoaster! Hugely grateful to be able to escape into these stories, even if there was a lot of emotional heaviness this week! 🎧

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (180) It’s just so wonderful to hear from Polly again!! Hearing him worry that he might no longer be missed really made my heart hurt and I’m now wondering how long it will be before he actually returns if they have years of reading to get through! It might have just been my headspace this week, but I actually found this ep to be one of the hardest ever to listen to. The queerphobia was particularly fierce and, yeah, it feels pretty current at the moment. 

🦋 @remnantspod (28) The music box was his mother’s 🥺 everything about this ep was painful and I had to turn up at work pretending that I hadn’t just heard a beautiful goodbye from a mother to her dying daughter when all I wanted to do was sit and mentally unpick the idea that ‘Death is not a punishment’. The idea that Edwin (she wanted him to be called Erwin 😭😭) was actually not responsible for any of the stolen money is incredibly interesting. And what does Sir mean ‘rest for you will be good for both of us’? There are so many levels to read into that. God, this show is just so good!

🧋 @hinaypod (36-39) Soooo much happened in such a relatively short stretch of episodes! Murphy!! Donner!!!! What the hell!! I must admit I’m actually halfway through ep 39 because I got to the part where CJ revealed J is alive somewhere and the thought of him begging for updates and living his life through scraps of information about his loved ones actually made me too sad, I had to pause 😭 let those old men be happy PLEASE. 

🍾 @ameliapodcast (49) Oh my god, the back and forth in this episode drove me insane haha. The only thing worse than a dream interpreter is a terrible one!! 

💍 @forgedbondspod (8) Ooh the nuptials are getting increasingly questioned! I’m so excited for the possibility of 90% of Olympus standing up and shouting ‘I OBJECT’ at the wedding (this is assuming an Ancient Greek wedding has an opportunity for such a thing!). So lovely to have new voices in the show, I’m biased but they were both EXCELLENT. 

🔮 @spiritboxradio (1.5- 1.9) Ooh! Sam made a few accidental revelations over Christmas, didn’t he? We hate to see an absent father coming back into the narrative, tbh. Also, Sam, I know you’re unreliably narrating, but the more you remind us that you have no magical talent, the more obvious it is that you really, absolutely do. I’m enjoying this show so much and the episodes are a perfect length for my commute which is always *chef’s kiss*.

Have a lovely week, friends! 🫶

[housederiva]

Your art is FANTASTIC and the random observations/polls/interjections you make have really helped to fuel the DA fandom in positive ways! Which it definitely needed after Veilguard's release, lmao. It's always a pleasure to see you on my dashboard!

That's very kind of you to say oh my gosh thank you so much. I'm just bumbling around and every once in a while I say something people think is worth sharing, and I like sharing what other folks feel/make too! I'm glad I'm a not too much of an annoyance xx

I think my favorite thing about having this blog is the notes I see on other peoples posts I rb, it’s nice seeing all sweet things get things sent an artist way or conversations/theories carried on in a rb chain

It’s a big ol show n tell and it’s a wonderful reprieve from my normal day to be able to see other folks stuff too ✨

[roots-symphony]

why did agatha tell lilia the truth about her only being able to steal powers if she’s blasted first if her entire plan was to get them to blast her so she could steal their powers??

[rosicheeks]

🙃

[iguessitsjustme]

I’m writing this while walking to work so forgive me if it’s not entirely coherent. I think it might benefit some people to have a reminder that books and show/movie adaptations are different. Reading the book might mean you know the framework for the show/movie but it does not make you An Expert on the show/movie.

First and foremost, I’m not going to say don’t post spoilers, but I will so do not go onto someone else’s post and post spoilers. You would not like it if someone came into your house and spoiled things for you. Do not do that to others. It is not only incredibly rude. It is entirely selfish. Which brings me to my next point.

If reading the book enhances your experience, if it’s something you enjoy, I’m glad! I am so incredibly happy for you. It does not make you smarter or inherently more informed than the people that choose not to read for whatever reason.

You might know what happens and have more knowledge about the story as a whole but that does not mean that people that are posting predictions or speculations don’t know what they’re talking about. I know a lot of people that watch these shows have some sort of degree in writing or literature or visual media. Gonna use myself as an example here, I have a degree in writing. I am decent at analysis. I mostly post silly little shitposts or memes but all of my posts are operating from a place of being informed.

I am capable of predicting what’s gonna happen. I am aware of narrative structures. I’m aware of plot devices. I’m aware of the common tropes in the shows I watch. And that doesn’t matter! Because that is entirely Not The Point. I don’t care if I predict accurately. It’s not about the what happens. It’s always about how we get there.

Of all of the shows that are airing and I can pretty much tell you what the ending of each of them is going to be. Even without reading the novels. That does not make them any less enjoyable for me. It makes them even more enjoyable. Cause now I get to watch for the details. I get to watch and see how this show has decided to show the journey of the story. And sometimes how they completely rewrite expectations. Some of the things I have watched have been very, extremely good at subverting tropes and expectations. Things can veer off in directions you don’t expect even if you’ve read the novel. Simply because it’s a different story. It is imposssible to do a 1 to 1 adaptation. As much as we might want it. It is simply not possible.

I have read a few novels that the shows are based on. Every single show has made drastic changes to the source material. So while you might have knowledge of what’s to come in the novel. You might have the ability to spoil everyone for what’s coming, even you can’t be 100% sure until it happens. And condescendingly telling people it’s so obvious when you have future knowledge is incredibly unacceptable.

This has gotten very long and I am actually at work now and should probably actually do my job but I just need to reiterate. Reading the novels is fine! It’s fun! I am genuinely so happy people are reading and enjoying themselves and also enjoying the shows! That is wonderful! But do not ruin or attempt to ruin someone else’s enjoyment simply because you think you know more. Make posts about the differences on your own blog. Talk about spoilers with friends that have also read the novel. But do not go onto a stranger’s post and post spoilers because you might be ruining the media you love for that person without even realizing what you’re doing.

[transgenderbuffoonery]

i love when my nervous system can’t tell the difference between waiting for an appointment and being chased by a man with a gun and a flamethrower

[toastspirit]

the ‘every problem I’ve had’ doc is almost at 5000 words and there’s still a lot of stuff I could add. yippee…?

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[shynerdwantscuddles]

You know what, fuck it. I shouldn’t have to leave because y’all decided to turn into antisemites. Here’s a tiny fraction of the shit that I’ve had to see every day:

Y’all fucking used us and pretended to give a fuck about us to make yourselves look better and then turned on us and abandoned as soon as it was no longer earning you cool leftist points. I’ve had to listen to so many goyim leftist claim all Jews are making up antisemitism while I have to live through it. I’ve had to listen to you people say that me and everyone like me should be killed. I tried to give you all the benefit of the doubt when I spoke out about antisemitism and you ignored me. I did the same thing when I saw people trying to argue against other Jews when they pointed out antisemitic stereotypes that where being perpetrated by the left. This was before the I/P conflict was even well known about in a lot of leftist spaces. I should’ve never given you that benefit, you didn’t deserve it. Leftist goyim are now saying the same genocidal Nazi shit I’m used to hearing from the alt right. Now I know that you fucks where just waiting for the opportunity to turn on us, and I won’t forget this. And I know so many of you are doing the same thing to the Palestinians that you did to us. You’re pretending to care about them and using them to look good. If you actually cared about them, you wouldn’t be turning this into a chance to be antisemitic because that just distracts from their movement. I’m gonna unfollow every fucker who’s complicit in this or perpetrating it. I don’t know who to trust anymore, but I know I will never trust any of you again.

[barley-st-band]

hey does anyone know how we’re supposed to survive it all. asking for a friend