#I’m a bit quieter these days because I’ve got so much stuff going on

[bitethedevil]

Ily please don't die

I’m very much alive 🧍🏻‍♀️But I truly appreciate the concern, anon 🫶

[themissinghand]

Hello beautiful I hope you’re doing well! If your requests for dr.stone are still on hold then please ignore this message!

if not then can I request the five wise commanders with a s/o who tries to impress them by learning the stuff they are interested in. (Examples can be like Ryusui’s s/o tried to learn about boats or Chrome’s s/o tries to learn about rocks and tells them the stuff they learned.) Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a good one!😁

Dr. Stone: Painting with Two Hands

Summary: In which the Five Wise Commanders get blown away by your knowledge in their passion. 

Or you want to show them that you are someone they can rely on too. 

Pairing: Five Wise Commanders (Senku, Chrome, Gen, Ryusui, and Ukyo)  x GN! Reader!

Note: Thanks for the request and your patience! This turned out super fluffy and I love it! Each scenario takes place in a different time/place. 

Warning: None. 

★・・・・・・★

The Art of Science

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“A lab coat.” Senku looked at you incredulously, with one brow raised and his other hand shaking a glass beaker. 

“Okay, how the heck did you even get that-“

“Yuzuriha.” Right. 

“And why are you wearing it exactly?”

“Because I look good in it and…” 

"I've been studying chemistry," You declared, revealing a notebook filled with meticulously recorded observations.

When you hand him the said notebook, you watch his skepticism turn into fascination.

“Kukuku, I’m impressed, it’s right. You wrote down the formulas for everything. Where and when did you get this?”

“See, I actually listened to all of your scientific rants. I thought they were interesting and super helpful, so I wanted to learn.”

Senku blinked, slightly surprised that you had put in the effort to take notes, listen and learn.

“I thought that we could experiment together."

For a moment, he was silent, but then his lips quirk up into a smirk, and he flicked your forehead.

“Alright, what are you waiting for? Come help me then. Show me what you learned.” 

“Wait.” Senku was twirled around and handed a lab coat too.

“I got one for you too.” Dumbfounded, Senku didn’t move until you sighed and helped him put it on. Before you went to fix his collar, he came to his senses.

“I can do it myself.” He quickly turned away from you and put it on properly.

"You look good short king."

You had a smug expression on your face.

"Shut up."

You swear he has a little tint of pink on his cheeks, but you decided to not mention it.

“Come on, we got a lot of work to do.” He extended a hand, and you accepted it as if it was the norm. 

“I know Einstein.” 

The Art of Exploration

“Chrome! Look at what I found!” 

“Be careful (Y/N)! Don’t fall down!” 

Chrome ran after you as you skipped ahead and jumped into a flowing river. 

“(Y/N)!” Chrome was always worried about your safety and well-being, despite the many times where you proved where you were just as strong as him. 

“Don’t worry Chrome, it’s not like it’s my first time out with you! Besides, look, I found this cool-looking thing in the water!” 

In your hands was an oddly shaped rock, and while the two of you inspected it, neither of you knew what it was. Until you cleaned it a bit more in the river. 

A golden exterior shone through its surface. 

Almost immediately, you screamed out in excitement. 

“Gold! It’s the thing that Senku was looking for right?” Even Chrome was shocked at your luck, before hugging you from behind.

Even though you both were slightly dirty from running away and exploring all day, neither of you minded.

“It’s gold! Amazing! How did you find that so easily?” Chrome was genuinely curious. After all, from his perspective, he simply saw you jump into a river, bend down, and pick up a random rock. 

“Um…it’s kind of embarrassing but…” Chrome cocked a head at your hesitation before you blurted out. 

“I’VE BEEN LEARNING ABOUT ROCKS!” It was so loud that the world shook around you both. 

"because...I want to go with you more when you explore..." Your voice became quieter and quieter, while you fidgetted with your hand.

Chrome watched your face lit up, before you quickly turn around and make a run for it. 

“Wait (Y/N)! That’s so cool! Come back!” 

Chrome chased you with a giant grin on his face.

He can’t wait to see what you learned, and how, when the two of you go back to his workshop. 

Chrome also can’t wait to brag to everyone (especially Senku) how great you are.

The Art of Communication

“Raise.”

“I’ll play with you Genie, call.” The click of chips being pushed to the center. Gen(ie) winked at you.

Genie was nickname for your little boyfriend, why? Well, man can read minds (probably).

The cards are slowly being flipped over as spectators make their own guesses.

“All-in!” Gen pushed up his sunglasses dramatically (as if he was in an anime) and smirked as he turned to you.

“Sorry dear (Y/N), this is my game.” 

You stayed silent for a moment, observing Gen from head to toe.

But Gen of course, remains calm, and confident in his hand.

“All-in.” 

Gen raises his sunglasses in slight surprise at your bet.

“Dear (Y/N), are you sure?” Gen was slightly worried, after all, you tend to be more on the conservative side when it comes to gambling. He slides his hand over to you, and you put yours on top of his. 

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” You returned his look with a forced smile. Gen whistled, surprised at your sudden bold action. 

“Okay, I’m going to flip the last card.” Kohaku flips and the room goes silent. 

Then he saw a smirk rose to your lips, and felt your hand intertwin with his. 

“You owe me babe.” You hold up his hand while his jaw dropped to the ground. 

This was the first you had ever won against him in gambling. 

“Finally someone gave Gen a taste of his own medicine.” Ukyo rolled his eyes before snickering. 

“Wha-how did you-” 

"I thought I'd learn from the best.” You winked and stole his sunglasses, making your beloved stutter even more. 

“After all, the mind is the most fascinating puzzle, and yours is the most intriguing of them all." You put on his sunglasses with a smug smirk.

“Damn, that was cringe.” Senku commented, which received a nudge from Yuzuriha. 

Gen eventually recovered and chuckled, bringing your hand to his lips. 

“Oh dear (Y/N), are you playing mind tricks with me now?” 

“Of course not dear~ I still have much to learn~” 

(Senku of course, fake gagged behind the scenes, but that never stopped you and Gen from doing anything, has it?)

The Art of Navigation

Under the starlit sky, both you and Ryusui stood on the deck of the Perseus, his eyes scanning the horizon. 

It was at times like these where your boyfriend was finally quiet, appreciating the tranquility, and the ambience as you two were on a date. Delicious food and wine made by Francois, while listening to the waves rock against the ship, and the laughter from others inside. 

Of course, Ryusui is the one to break that silence when he notices the seas changing. 

“My love, a storm is coming.” He suddenly stands up, “Francois, follow me after you clean up.” 

“Yes sir.” Francois, elegant and efficient as always, quickly retreated with the food. 

“Ay ay Captain.” Your little salute made his loosen up just a little, before he held your hand, and pulled you inside as if he was guiding you in a waltz.

Ambitious, confident, and charismatic, that was your love, Ryusui.

As expected, he took the helm immediately, and an excited grin rose to his face as he looked far into the distance with thunderous clouds. 

“Love, can you tell them all to get ready!? We need all hands on deck!” 

“On it captain!” 

With a laugh, you began warning everyone through the speakers, and chaos followed as everyone scrambled to get on desk.

Surprisingly, Ryusui watched you give commands almost effortlessly and matching his pace.

“Furl the sails!” 

“We’re going to change courses!” 

“Make sure to hold to the ship!” 

“Love, you’re perfect.” Ryusui thanks you while he spins the wheel.

“Drop the anchors!” 

Then you turn around and slide beside him. 

“Love, let me help you - it’s that way - where we have to go right?” 

“A little bit more to the left, but love, I see you’ve been learnING-” The ship’s center of gravity suddenly shifts, causing you to lean on Ryusui as you grab onto the wheel for your deer life. 

“I love it! The desire to learn is always so endearing!” 

“Oh stop it~ All I did was read some maps and books!” 

“Hey Captain! Can you stop flirting and steer the ship properly!?” The others yelled while panicking on deck, and with a laugh, both of you steered the ship to safety. 

"One more time?" He proposed, and you agreed, much to the displeasure of your crewmates.

The Art of Archery

Sometimes, the kids are loud. 

As such, Ukyo and his companion often found solace in the tranquility of the forest. Sometimes they would take long walks, talk about various topics they would not share in front of children, and enjoy the silence once in a while away from the chaos of someone known as Senku. 

But one day, you asked Ukyo to learn archery. 

Naturally, Ukyo was elated to teach you, after all, it was a way for you to protect yourself. 

It began with Ukyo making a bow for you, then arm guard, and even received gloves from Yuzuriha. He wanted to make sure you had the best of equipment he could get, and that you were safe at all times.

The first few training sessions began with Ukyo standing behind you, guiding you with a calm, mellow voice, and helping you with aim. 

But soon, you both practiced archery side by side, the twang of bowstrings harmonizing with the rustling leaves.

"Your aim is getting better," Ukyo praised, a smile gracing his lips as he applauded you. 

“Thanks, it all because of your help Ukyo.” You gave him a little hug which he returned. 

“I’m proud of you.” 

“Can I come and hunt with you now?” For a moment he hesitated, but after seeing your adorable puppy eyes, he caved in within a heartbeat. 

“Okay, but safety first ok?” 

“Mhmm. I know.” 

You gave him a peck on the cheek, before he returned one too. 

LIttle did you know, not only were your arrows hitting the bulls-eye, they went through Ukyo’s heart too.

[cheriladycl01]

Miami Waves - Logan Sargeant x NewZealandOlympicSurfing! Reader

Plot: Miami boy wants to see if his Olympic surfing girl can keep up with the Floridian waves and you end up getting to know his colleagues more in the process

“Thank you for coming and being here with me” he smiles, his parents had been wanting to meet you for a while. You’d started dating when he first got into F2 and was put under the Williams Young Driver Programme.

“You knew I wouldn’t say no. I’ve been wanting to meet them just as much!” You exclaim. You were a little nervous to meet them, as in your mind Logan was it for you, this was the boy you wanted to marry and have a family with. And even if he didn’t feel the same way right now, that was okay. Not that you knew if he did as you’d never discussed your guys future.

But if you had, he would have told you he felt the exact same way.

Meeting his parents was so much fun, and you got to meet his older brother who teased the both of you relentlessly.

You were used to surfing in Australia and New Zealand. They were the closest to you, and there wasn’t quite any waves like their were on the Australian Coastline. That’s actually where you’d won, one of your first ever championships in surfing. Two years later and you were a Silver Medalists.

“Well my family love you. I’m pretty sure they wanted you to move in” he laughs, Logan lived at home all through his career in F2 and he still visited often as he always said how he felt like an outcast on the F1 grid.

Alex helped but he’d drifted apart from Oscar and had to watch him form a really strong bond with Lando.

He still talked to his friends from his days in Prema as well but everything but you felt so disconnected lately.

So spending those two weeks with his family and you in Miami in the beach villa you'd all rented was vital for the both of you. You felt like you'd been so busy running around, travelling the world with Logan all the time, surfboard rentals at every new place you went so you could train and sometimes travelling for your own championships.

You spent the two weeks doing the most mundane stuff, like cooking together with Logan, building sandcastles, teaching him how to paddle board before showing him the intricacies that came with surfing, which you thought considering his concentration and hand-eye coordination in an F1 car he'd be good at but he couldn't stay on the board once.

Your favourite thing was his family getting really excited to show your their favourite local restaurants in Florida.

You were currently sat on your surfboard with your legs in the water and hands on the middle part of it, watching everything in the neck high water below you.

The water's were crystal clear and you could see the little fishes swimming around playing through the sand. You were swaying a little bit where the quieter, unrideable waves were lapping over your board and sending you in random directions.

You were peacefully watching everything go by, until that peace was ruined by Logan, coming running into the water in his basketball shorts making you look over to him in shock.

"Logan?" you asked as he swam up to hold into your board, you scooted back so that he could haul himself up and sit opposite you on the board.

"Erm, so ... kind of last minute but you about to meet Oscar, Arthur and Freddie" Logan said, trying to give you his cute teddy bear smile, but all that was running through your body was shock.

It was a bit strange but you hadn't actually met his friends, you were very very busy with training for the next Olympics and another set of Championships in New Zealand when Logan was in F2, so you didn't see him in the paddock as much as you do now, and if you did you were nervous and kept to yourself.

"No, stop. I'm basically naked!" you exclaim looking down at your cleavage that wasn't well covered up by your bikini.

"Come on, lets go meet them. And get you a cover-up because I don't trust them" he laughs, placing a hand and the side of your neck before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You guys moved closer to each other to the point where you were basically sat on his lap. A wave a little to large came and toppled you both off the board making you both come up sputtering in shock.

You swim to where the water is knee deep and see three boys watching you.

"Oh" you mutter, knowing exactly who they were.

"Baby, these are my friends" he offers, grabbing your coverup and handing it to you so you could chuck it on.

"Yeah i gathered" you chuckle.

You spent the day with the boys, Oscar was the only one that could surf and you found yourself getting on with all of them, Oscar the most who became like a sort of Oceanic brother to you, being from Australia.

Arthur and Freddie were a whole other story, constantly flirting with you to try and get a rise out of Logan which you couldn't help but giggle at but always grab his hand, arm of leg in a comforting way to let him know none of it was affecting you.

"So, how are you feeling about the Paris Olympics?" Freddie asks as you were all sat around a bonfire, telling stories.

"Yeah confident, I'm excited to be able to participate in it for a second year running! Going for Gold and all that..." you grin.

"Well... we will all be there to watch you, right Logan?" Arthur grins, making you shake your head again.

y/user

Liked by logansargeant, arthur_leclerc and oscarpiastri

y/user: Missing NZ P1🇳🇿🥝 but Miami and Hubby are treating me well P2-4 🇺🇸🦅

Tagged One Person

View all 237 comments

logansargeant: Out of all the pictures you could have used of me on the beach … 😩

-> y/user: baby, I had sunburn in all of our ones 💋

-> logansargeant: but you make such a pretty tomato 🍅

-> y/user: outside for you tonight

-> logansargeant: arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, frederickvestiofficial I’m in the dog house boys, help me out!

-> arthur_leclerc: sounds like a you problem, Y/N looking radiant as always 🌸

-> oscarpiastri: maybe you shouldn’t have called your girl a tomato? You hit those Miami waves Y/N 🏄🏼‍♀️🌊

-> frederikvestiofficial: Y/N deserves better 🫣🫶🏼

williamsracing: incredible stuff from you! 🦋💙

Instagram Story Caption:

I prefer the Miami sunsets 🌅

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[usmsgutterson]

Hi! I’m here to send in a request for platonic crows x reader where the reader can shapeshift - The main thing I was thinking of was just kinda friendship w the crows in general and their reactions to different things they learn about reader overtime and what they first though about reader vs now. Also here’s some ideas I’ve had about reader for if you do choose to do this request that might help!

-> I feel like reader would probably be able to change their body to be able to take on like a half form of things so like they could give them-self ears or something and depending on if they have a ‘Main form’ of sorts they could probably have some of the features of that thing like idk enhanced hearing or their good at being quiet/Sneaky.

-> Also I imagine that they might get like aches if they haven’t done it in a long while just based on the fact that in a way it’s like changing your bones/Bone structure if that makes sense so if they do it too much (Like an unhealthy amount like every single day for hours on end) Or haven’t done it in a long time they’d get aches n stuff

-> and also (Last thing I promise) They would probably use smaller/Quieter forms to scare/sneak up on people and just be an overall menace rlly

And of course if you aren’t interested in doing this request that’s fine too! Just let me know ^^ hope you have a wonderful day! :]

(Also could I be an anon? If so could I be 🍒Anon?)

Platonic! Crows x gn! Shapeshifter! Reader Headcanons

Hi! You can totally be the cherry anon if you want, that's cool with me! I'm sorry it took me a bit to see this, I've been writing requests from the bottom of my inbox to the top of it lately so that I could get the oldest requests done first, and seeing this in my inbox, I just knew I'd have a blast! I was right, writing this was so much fun.

I did it as headcanons to keep the fic from breaching a 15k word limit which I knew I'd get to if I let myself and I didn't want this fic to run too long! I hope that that's all right with you and if not, I apologize and I can rewrite if you'd like me to!

Fic type- fluff

Warnings-mentions of tarantulas, flies (the reader once turns themself into a fly on the wall) and spiders

(no gif because I sadly couldn't find one of the crows on the rooftop)

Okay, so!

Your status as a shapeshifter is kind of just...known amongst the crows? 

Like, they all know about it and it just kind of exists as another one of your attributes. It’s not a big deal, and nobody has ever really made it out to be.

You’re able to enhance your hearing so that you can hear pretty far out, which comes in handy a lot on heist jobs, especially if you can make it so that you can be standing on the total opposite side of wherever you need to be for the heist and still be able to hear Kaz and Nina bickering at the checkpoint. 

You’re also able to make yourself quieter, which comes in handy a lot on jobs too, especially when you need to focus on being stealthy and go unseen and unheard. 

Now that I think of it, there’s probably a way that you can shift to match your surroundings or like, make them match you kind of, and make yourself invisible, which is actually a super cool concept and I don’t want to get sidetracked by it, so next thing!

There’s a healthy amount of times that you should shapeshift on a regular basis. You go off that and start doing it too much or not doing it enough, you get really bad aches and pains.

I feel like you’d get them all over and they would hurt as much as a really bad migraine. It happens at random and can sometimes last a couple of days, too. All in all, the pain part of it isn’t really a fun or enjoyable experience so you try to shapeshift consistently

YOU WOULD TOTALLY SHAPESHIFT INTO RANDOM SHIT TO SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF PEOPLE-

forgive the caps, I would a thousand percent do the same thing and I got excited when I remembered that that was a possibility.

You’d probably shapeshift into something like a tarantula and just spend hours relaxing in a random corner of Wylans lab weaving webs and hanging from the ceiling and being all cool, and then Jesper comes in and you go to greet him and he’s like “saints, what is that?"

and then Wylan is just like “it’s Y/N? Their favorite color is the dots on their back? How could you not recognize them?”

“Oh, I’m sorry Wylan, I’m just not so used to seeing my best friend as a bloody tarantula!” 

You probably shapeshift into a cat to be a menace to Kaz 

the concept of you just kind of showing up at his office window and then doing that thing that cats do where they nap in direct line of wherever the sun is coming in is something I love more than life itself

that’s nOT MENACING, BACK ON TRACK

AFTER you’ve sunbathed an appropriate amount of time, you, in the form of a cat, jump onto Kaz’s desk and glare at him the entirety of the time that it takes you to bring his to-go cup of coffee closer and closer to the edge of his desk, until it tips over and spills. 

that concept has made me laugh for the last ten minutes

Kaz almost hates you for that every time you do it, even though he knows you’re only doing it because he did something to piss you off first and he just considers it fair when he remembers that much. 

You also buy him a replacement coffee out of the kindness of your heart, though you never actually apologize to him

to be menacing in the direction of Matthias and Nina, you also take up the form of a spider. Neither of them really like spiders and you just kind of mess with them for two minutes before it gets old and you switch into something else.

Inej is a cat person through and through, and there aren’t many ways in which you can mess with her, nor do you want to because knife wife WILL use knives if she doesn't recognize the fact that whatever you shift into is you and the possibility, though slight, is still there.

You go to Inej as a cat the most often, though. 

You’re able to keep up with her when she’s running through the barrel on her missions for Kaz, and the naps in the sun are best when you’re laying on one of Inejs coats while she spars with Jesper

You’ve also been a literal fly on the wall to get intel for Kaz before, but that was because you’d offered, and it was exhausting. You got a lot of good intel from that but you were like “nah, never again. Not for less than a hundred million kruge. Never”

generally, it’s a very chaotic but a very fun existence, and you wouldn’t trade a minute of it for anything

[vintagepresley]

Just Like Old Times

68' Comeback Special one shot

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Word Count: 3,467

Warnings: 18+ SMUTSMUTSMUT Tiny bit of a daddy kink, choking, tiny bit of fingering, oral (m receiving), rough deep throat, some dirty talking, cursing, use of the word slut, Elvis brings the camera out!, fluff, time jump (it's 1983 like in the last Ada fic I wrote), typical elvis stuff.

Author's Notes: This idea just came to me and I thought you guys might like it and would like an update on Elvis x reader. I just can't seem to let go of the comeback special series. I just love it too much and how far it's come in this universe. So, who knows maybe I'll write another one shot of these two, lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and possible spelling errors!

It was the first time in a long time that you and Elvis had the house to yourselves. Now that the kids were older you had promised them a trip to California to visit your parents for a month during the summer. They were more than excited because they had always loved going to California when you all took trips out there. But this trip was even more exciting because Elvis had paid for them all to go to DisneyLand. The house was quieter than usual without them and to be expected you were having separation anxiety not having your babies around. But you and Elvis needed this alone time and you both were going to take complete advantage of it. Your marriage was healthy for the most part and you two were intimate frequently, but sometimes it was hard because you were being interrupted by one of the kids. The two of you didn’t make love the way you used to before you had kids where it was wild and spontaneous because you seemed to never have enough alone time to do so. But the moment the kids were gone all Elvis was thinking about was desperately getting you into bed.

Elvis was sitting up in bed reading one of his books and you were finishing up in the bathroom and you came out in a buttercream satin babydoll nightgown and brushing your hair. The moment Elvis saw you walk out his face lit up at the sight of you that he just stared and smiled. All he could think about was happy he was with three beautiful children and the most beautiful woman by his side. As you continued to brush your hair you caught him staring at you and you smiled. “What?” you said softly. 

“Just thinkin’, baby.” he hummed. 

“About what?” you smiled. 

“How I’m the luckiest sonofabitch because I’ve got the most beautiful wife.” he beamed. 

You giggled at him and your cheeks went flush. 

“Oh hush.” you hummed. 

He set his book down and sat up a bit more as he smiled at you and then he slipped his arms around your waist and pulled you down onto the bed with him. You let out a soft squeal. 

“Elvis!” you giggled as you tried to keep brushing your hair and his arms tighten around your waist and his hands rested against your stomach as he left tiny kisses against your left shoulder.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I saw ya. That innocent girl starin’ up at me on that tiny stage all wide eyed. I was in love.” he mumbled softly as he continued to leave kisses against your shoulder. 

You giggled softly as you leaned into his embrace and you knew he wasn’t going to let you finish brushing your hair so you set the brush down and placed your hands over his. “Mm, I’m not that innocent anymore thanks to you corrupting me.” you teased. 

Elvis raised an eyebrow and smirked as his kisses began to trail along your neck and he moved one of his hands down toward your lap, running it in between your thighs which caused a soft whimper to escape your lips. “You like being corrupted, baby. You were such a naughty little girl for me that night.” he whispered into your ear. 

You captured your bottom lip between your teeth at his words and you watched as his hand continued to run in between your thighs and he groped and squeezed at them. He always knew exactly how to touch you or kiss you to get you aroused and now you were more than ever. “Well, daddy taught me everything I know..” you said in a breathy tone. 

Elvis’ lip curled into a grin at your words and then suddenly with his other hand he was squeezing your breasts and he kissed along your ear slowly. “Y’know with the kids gone for a month we could do what we used to do. Remember? Fuckin’ in my office, or when I fucked you on the kitchen table, the shower sex. Uninterrupted…” he whispered as his hand traveled up and his fingers brushed against your panty covered pussy. You let out a shaky and airy exhale his words driving you wild and his fingers making it even worse. “All month long…” he added. 

You tilted your head up slightly to look at him as his hands continued to grope your body causing you to let out another whimper and you leaned up to kiss his lips softly. “I’ve got an even better idea, baby.” you smirked. 

“Oh? What’s that, beautiful?” he replied. 

“Well.. We haven’t done this one particular thing in a while… I was thinking.. Why not make a little video to add to our collection?” you giggled. 

His eyes widened and he grinned. He had been wanting to make another sex tape so bad because the two of you had made quite a few tapes since that eventful day backstage at the Comeback Special. But hadn’t made one in a while because you didn’t have enough privacy. 

“What do you say?” you smiled. 

But he didn’t even have to give you a response because he was climbing out of bed already with excitement. “I’m grabbin’ the camera!” he shouted. You laughed to yourself seeing how quick he got up to get his camera. Technology was progressing slowly in the 80’s and Elvis had finally bought himself a new camera. You were the proud owners of the new Sony Betamovie camcorder and it was Elvis’ favorite thing to use when he first got it and he’d always have it in the kids faces and filming every little moment of them. But he also was waiting for the day to use it for your bedroom antics. As he went to grab the camcorder and replace the tape in it; you decided to slip off your little nightgown and tossed it onto the floor and you laid across the bed on your back and stretching your arms out above your head as he was walking back in and he nearly tripped and almost dropped the camera when he saw you and you giggled softly as you sat up. 

“Are you okay, honey?” you asked, trying not to giggle.

“I-I’m fine.” he mumbled as he stared at your naked body rolling around the satin sheets. He quickly sat the camera down on his dresser and facing it toward the bed. You sat up on your knees as you watched him press play and he walked over to the bed and you came crawling over to him as he stood before you and you sat back up on your knees and the two of you kissed deeply as his gentle hands ran along the curves of your body until they reached your ass and he gave it a hard slap causing soft squeal to escape you. “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he mumbled. 

You smiled at his words and kissed him again as your hands ran along his pajama shirt and you slowly began to unbutton it and each inch of his chest you exposed you pressed soft kisses against it until you completely unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it off him and throwing it on the floor. You stared up at him as you continued to kiss down to his round belly, rubbing your hands along it as you kissed it slowly. He watched you with lustful eyes and one hand still on your ass and the other brushing your hair out of your face. He had grown to love the way he looked because of you, but sometimes he was still self conscious about his body. But you loved his body and his belly especially and you never wasted an opportunity to show him. As you continued to kiss his belly your hands wandered down to his pajama pants and you brushed your hand up against his crotch and you smirked as you heard him groan and glanced up at him. 

“Oh, someone seems to be excited for me already...” you hummed as you licked your lips. 

“Mhm.. H-He’s always excited for you, darlin’.” he grinned.

You smirked and hooked your fingers in the waistband of his pants and tugged his pajamas down and your eyes lit up watching his erect cock spring out and slap against his stomach. Your eyes were fixated on his large member and you licked your lips again and leaned down further and arching your back, lifting your hips so that your ass was in the air and he gave your ass another slap as it was on display for him and you whimpered softly. You glanced up at him as your tongue circled around the head of his cock and his entire body tensed up at the feeling and he exhaled deeply. “Mm, baby..” he muttered. 

You smirked and circled your tongue around the head once more and flicking your tongue along the slit and tasting the saltiness of his precum against your tongue and you licked your lips as you wiggled your ass in his hand that was gripping onto it as you parted your lips open and slowly guided his cock into your mouth. He reached down to grab a handful of your hair as he groaned loudly as his other hand slapped your ass once more and groped it in his hand. You rested your hands on his thighs as you slowly started to bob your head down on his cock making soft noises as you sucked him slow and steady. His groans were getting progressively louder and his grip on your hair tighter and he began to push your head down further prompting you to relax your throat as he forced his cock in deeper causing you to gag softly around him and those soft noises grew into louder obscene noises and causing Elvis to grunt. “Oh fuck.. Your throat feels so damn good..” Elvis moaned breathlessly. 

Your hands gripped onto his thighs causing your nails to dig into his skin as he held onto your head with both hands began to fuck your throat causing your gags to become louder and forcing saliva to drip from your mouth and your eyes already watering. You began to kick your feet the rougher he fucked your throat and he pulled your hair yanking you back as his cock popped out of your mouth with strings of saliva falling from his cock as he let you catch your breath. You sucked in air and coughed a bit as you stared up at him innocently. He was smirking widely and suddenly he had an idea. 

“Turn over and lay down for me, baby.” he mumbled. 

You raised an eyebrow at his words, but did as you were told and as you turned around and laid on your back you glanced over at the camera that was still recording and then looking up at Elvis, whose cock was now directly in your face and dripping in your saliva. 

“Now get those panties off, darlin.” he demanded. 

You nodded at his words and reached down to slip your panties down and lifted your legs in the air to slip them off and you tossed them and then he grabbed your legs and forced them apart so that your pussy was on display for him. You watched him grab his cock and guided down toward your mouth and without having to say a word you opened your mouth for him and he slid his cock back down your throat and he grabbed onto your breasts, squeezing them in his big strong hands and you held onto his thighs as he started to thrust his cock down your throat. He groaned loudly. “Goddamn.. “ he mewled. You gagged and moan around his cock and your eyes shut tight as he abused your throat and causing the most obscene and embarrassing noises to escape you and you slapped his thigh signaling for him to let you get air and he quickly slide his cock out of your mouth and you spit up all the saliva that had built up in your mouth and it dripped down your face. “You okay, Little? You want more, baby?” he hummed as his hand rubbed over your throat. 

You nodded slowly. “P-Please..” you whispered as you opened your mouth for him again.

He smirked and wasted no time forcing his cock back into your mouth with one hand wrapped around your throat and the other running down your body and then grazing over your pussy. He forced you to take the entirety of his cock down your throat until his balls were pressed against your face and he thrusted himself down your throat slowly causing you to moan and gag loudly as spit up saliva and made a mess all over your face. “Ah fuck, I can feel it in your throat, baby. You’re so damn good at this.” he moaned as tightened his hand around your throat and he continued to fuck your face. Two of his fingers ran along your clit and your lower body convulsed against him and he smirked feeling how wet you already were for him and then he slipped those two fingers inside of you causing your thighs to close around his hand as he began to fuck your pussy almost knuckle deep and you moaned louder but it came out muffled around his cock that was brusing your throat that you had to slap his thigh again for him to stop. He quickly pulled his cock out that was covered in your saliva and dripping everywhere and you spit more up as you coughed loudly and your face was completely covered in your own spit. “Goddamn. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl.. I’ll give that throat of yours a break.” he chuckled with a smirk. 

You were breathing heavily as your soft moans continued to escape you as his fingers thrusted deep inside of you and you slowly moved your hips against him grinding on his fingers and you slipped your hands around his arm as you practically humped his fingers that fucked you faster and you titled your head back moaning loudly. “Oh, E-Elvis..” you said hoarsely. 

He grinned, slipping another finger into your soaking pussy. “You dirty girl.. So wet for me..” he groaned. He then slipped his fingers out of you and he stared at his glistening wet fingers that were coated in your slick and then he stuck them in his mouth and sucked you off his fingers and he licked the remaining taste of you off his lips. “Mmm..” he mumbled under his breath before stepped back to help you up and grabbed his shirt to wipe your face clean as much as he could before he threw the shirt and he pressed his naked body against yours and he kissed you hard and deep and you moaned into his mouth as you kissed him just as passionately. He lifted you up off the bed and into his arms and your legs wrapped around his waist as you continued to kiss sloppily and he smirked against your lips before he roughly threw you down onto the bed and you groan softly and he grabbed your legs and put them on his shoulders and his hands gripped your thighs tight in his hand and you stared up at him, biting your lip and anticipating his next move. But before he even gave you a chance to even think about what he was going to do he had grabbed his cock and roughly slammed it right into your pussy and you screamed out his name as your head tilted back against the bed and your hands grabbed onto the sheets. 

He began to slap his hips against your ass the sounds of his balls slapping against you as your pussy took every inch of his swollen, throbbing cock that forced your walls to open around him and he hit against your cervix with each rough movement he made as he progressively thrusted his hips faster causing the bed to creak and move beneath you and your entire body to bounce and he watched with delight as your breasts bounced in tune with his rough movements. Your eyes rolled back with pleasure and your back arched against the bed as you moaned and whimpered out his name loudly and he grunted and groaned above you as sweat dripped from his brow down his face. His cock was hitting all the right places within you that you began to pant between each moan and nearly ripping the sheets off with how tight you were gripping them. He was fucking you so hard it felt as if he was tearing you apart but you didn’t care. He felt so good, he always felt so good inside of you. He hadn’t fucked you like this in a while that you just wanted more. You wanted him to completely destroy you. 

He removed your legs from around his shoulders and he climbed on top of you the weight of him so heavy against you and his body so wet from how much he was sweating only turned you on more as his body stuck to yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist and now his face was buried into your neck and he was grunting into your ear as slammed harder inside of you and his hands grasping yours and holding them tight as the two of you moved against each other in unison. The sounds escaping the both of you growing so loud that it was echoing within the room. Your body began to feel weak as it trembled beneath him and your breathing was so heavy and you could feel your orgasm building within you growing stronger by the minute that you were ready to explode at any given moment. “E-Elvis, b-baby… I-I’m gonna cum!” you cried. 

Elvis kissed sloppily along your cheek as his breathing was heavy in your ear. “Cum for me, baby. Cum all over daddy’s cock like the good little girl you are..” he grunted out. His words were sure to send you into shock the way they brought chills down your spine and caused your body to react the only way it knew how at this moment. You threw your arms around him and held his sweaty body close to yours as you came hard all over his cock that the moment you did his hips bucked and his cock pulsed and twitched inside of you and he moaned loudly in your ear as he too reached his orgasm and ropes of his warm thick cum filled you up. His movements came to a slow stop when he finished and his body collapsed on you and he felt even heavier on top of you but you didn’t want him to move. You both laid there breathing heavily and he reached down to slide his cock out of you and you could feel his warm cum seeping out of you. You kissed along his neck slowly and then reached up to cup his sweaty face in your hands and brushed some of his hair that stuck to his forehead back and you smiled. 

“Well, that felt like old times..” you giggled softly, kissing his lips. 

He chuckled tiredly as he returned your kiss and stole a few more as he brushed your hair behind your ears. “It sure did. You’re still a dirty little slut..” he smirked, teasing you. 

You laughed at his words and playfully hit him. “Oh, shut up, she only comes out when you fuck me like that.” you smirked. 

Elvis chuckled and climbed off of you and laid beside you as he exhaled sharply as he glanced over at the recording camera and grinning to himself. You smiled widely and snuggled up beside him resting a hand on his belly and draping a leg over him as your head rested on his chest and his arms wrapped around you tight and he kissed the top of your head. You tilted your head up to look at him, kissing his chin. “Next time I say we roleplay like before. I’ll be the teacher and you the student again.. Just how you like.” you giggled as you placed another small kiss on his chin. 

He smirked. 

“It really will be like old times.” he laughed as his hand caressed your arm as he held you. 

“I love you.” you sighed contently, staring up at him. 

“I love you too, Little.” he hummed lovingly as he kissed you.

The two of you embraced tighter and kissed slowly all the while the camera continued to roll.

Tagging: @18lkpeters @re3kin @memphis-mania @ccab @kendralavon7 @vintageshanny @elvisblueshoes @peaceloveelvis @generoustreemystic @powerofelvis

68’ Comeback Special series

[karespocketboyfriends]

𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗

Sylus X Evie (OC)

Warnings -> Humour, mentions of murder, Sylus getting his ass slapped, gets the tiniest bit suggestive at the end, situationship dynamic

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

I’m going to die today.

I can picture my final resting place now; a six foot hole in the ground with fresh dirt on top, a bouquet of my favourite flowers and a tombstone that reads:

‘Here lies Evie. Dead because she was dared to slap the boss of Onychinus’ ass.’

If I had more time, I would have studied black magic to make sure Luke and Kieran go out with me. But I don’t have more time, not when the re-release of one of my favourite smutty books is on the horizon with an exclusive and very limited cover.

Clearly, I value books more than my own life.

“You’re quieter than usual tonight.”

I jump at the voice, head snapping towards Sylus sitting in the driver’s seat of his car. One of several cars he owns. He isn’t looking at me, scarlet eyes fixated on the road ahead as he drives at the N109 Zone’s speed limit. In other words, faster than Linkon’s law actually allows.

“It’s nothing.” I deflect his observation as casually as I can manage. I turn my eyes to look out the front window, not wanting to risk making eye contact with him should he happen to glance at me, but also not wanting to turn away completely and raise suspicion. “I stayed up later then I should have, that’s all.”

Working for Onychinus has completely warped my sleep schedule. My patterns used to be that of a normal person, awake during the day and asleep at night, but now I’m active beneath both the sun and moon. Instead of sleeping straight through one cycle phase, I’ve learned to split my rest in two. Sunrise and sunset are my resting hours now, with daylight my free time and overnight my work hours.

Sylus hums, and the sound vibrates in my gut. I love hate the way it feels. “Reading again?”

I did fit in more reading time where I should have been asleep, but that wasn’t the cause of my hesitation to start a conversation. “Am I that predictable?”

“Painfully so.” He turns onto the street that leads to the base. “I am, after all, aware of your particular taste in novels.”

My face burns hot, much so that I cross my arms and dig my nails into my skin. “That isn’t the only genre I read. I keep more tame stuff at home.”

He snickers. “I’m sure.”

Minutes later, we arrive. I follow half a step behind Sylus as we navigate the base, the both of us headed in the same direction. My office is in his personal wing, where it has been since I got hired a year and a half ago. To this day, I still haven’t been able to get a clear answer as to why he put me so close to him. On a professional level it makes sense, being his personal assistant and all, but given the nature of his work… it seems odd to place an absolute stranger right outside your door.

Though, I’m not exactly much of a threat. I doubt a man like Sylus sees much harm in a woman whose only weapon is a pencil with a pointy end.

“Take the rest of the night off.” Sylus breaks the silence as we turn down the hallway leading to his wing.

Stunned, I come to a stop. Sylus carries on without looking back, his footsteps alone echoing off the walls. He gets a several strides ahead before I’m jogging to catch up. “But, the notes from the meeting today need to be-”

He grabs the handle of the door that leads to his private quarters, and he finally turns his head to look down at me. Not in the sense that I’m below him, but literally has to look down. “If you’re too tired to interrupt my peace and quiet the way you normally do, then you’re useless tonight.”

I huff and cross my arms. “You make me sound like someone who never shuts up.”

One corner of his mouth curls up. “Are you not aware of how noisy you are, kitten? That’s an order.”

I clamp my mouth shut to keep any witty remarks inside. Sylus waits a moment, and when he’s satisfied that I won’t argue, turns the handle and pushes open the door.

That’s when I realize that if I don’t strike now, I’ll never have a chance to do so again. The boss’ guard is down, the hallway is empty, and several escape routes are available.

Should I go light? No, better to stun him and buy myself several seconds of precious time.

Sylus makes it half a stride through the door before my hand connects with his ass, the resounding slap like a grenade in the silence.

Then I’m flying back the way we came, fleeing for my life and the exclusive book cover I’m so desperate to get my hands on. “Sorry, Sir!”

I whip around the corner, going so fast I almost crash right into Luke and Kieran. They jump to the side, pressing their backs against opposite walls and clearing the way for me to get by.

Luke cackles beneath his crow mask. “Where’s the fire, Evie?”

“I better get a signed copy, you doorknobs!”

I’m racing around the next corner seconds before their howling laughter turns into strangled yelps. My heart sinks. He’s catching up, and he’s catching up fast.

I throw myself into the closest supply closet without thinking, barricading the door with a gun rack and ducking behind a shelf of random things that I make a mental note to sort through at some point in the future. Assuming I even live to see the future.

I throw my hands over my nose and mouth to muffle my breathing when footsteps draw near. I stare through a gap between the shelves, watching the light beneath the door. A prayer my grandmother used to recite comes to mind as footsteps drew near, two points of shadow obstructing the light.

The footsteps fall silent. Neither of the shadows move.

‘Please no, please no, please no, please no, please no.’

The shadows move and the footsteps start again, the sound becoming distant until they disappear completely.

Dropping my hands, I let out the quietest sigh of relief I can manage. I’m not brave enough to risk sneaking out now, not when Sylus is still on the prowl. I’ll stay hidden in here until sunrise if I have to.

Getting comfy on the floor, I fish my phone from my back pocket. The clock reads 11:48 PM.

‘I won.’

Three hours go by. Pain attacks my spine when I finally straighten myself out, fingers numb from holding my phone and battery percentage in the red zone. I started and finished an entire book on my reading app in the time I’ve been hiding here.

No one has passed by the closet since I first jumped in here. If it was Sylus who briefly stopped outside the door, he hasn’t come back yet. Either he was still lingering somewhere in the base, or he stepped out.

Waiting till sunrise to make an escape no longer feels doable. Not if I still want to have any kind of feeling in my body.

Tucking my phone away, I uncross my legs and bite back a cry at the pins and needles feeling that shoots up them. I mentally curse out Luke and Kieran as I grit my teeth through the attack. It feels like forever before the numbness finally fades and I can stand without feeling like my legs are going to give out from under me.

The stupid wheels on the gun rack screech obnoxiously as I push it aside. Then the hinges on the door shriek as I slowly crack the closet open. Both ends of the hallway are clear, and a quick glance at the ceiling doesn’t reveal any sign of Mephisto.

I’m clear. Hopefully. I get going before that changes.

I make it halfway down the hall when something drifting from the ceiling catches my attention. It’s a black feather, and it sets my internal alarm off and has me making another scan for the mechanical crow. I still don’t see him.

The feather floats down in front of me, and my curiosity wins. My hand seems to reach out all on its own to grab it. The second my fingers brush against the soft feather, it disintegrates into black and red mist.

‘Oh fu-’

My wrist is suddenly caught in an iron grip, a pair of crimson eyes narrow, tempting lips set in a firm line. I don’t even think to run.

Instead, I blink up at him. “Hello, Sir.”

“Evie.” My name is flat on his tongue.

“About earlier,” I put on the most innocent smile in my arsenal. “It was Luke and Kieran’s idea. Punish them, not me.”

“Oh, they’ve already received what they’re owed.” He pulls my wrist until I bump into his chest. “Now, what do you think you’re owed for that little surprise?”

“Forgiveness?” Noticing the thin chain on his collar was undone, I fix it for him. “You know, Sir, I think it would be good for you to practice leaving yesterday’s grudges in the past. A handsome face like yours should eliminate as many causes of stress as possible to prevent faster aging.”

He raises a brow, not at all looking convinced. “Is that how it works?”

I nod. “There has been research done. If you let me live, I can have a full report on your desk by tomorrow night.”

Sylus hums as if considering it. Then, miraculously, he lets me go. “Leave yesterday’s grudges in the past, is it? Perhaps you’re right.” He turns to the side and lifts an arm as if to say ‘go ahead’. “Enjoy the rest of your night off, Evie.”

‘I’m so dead.’

I don’t turn my back to him. In fact, I walk backwards while holding eye contact with him, the amused smile on his face a mask for something more lethal. It’s only when I’m forced to turn a corner that I let him out of my sight.

My steps and quick and paranoid, the base seeming to stretch on endlessly before I finally make it to the exit. Then I actually make it outside, the full moon and cool air welcoming me in celebration of my survival.

“Huh.” I cross my arms and pinch my chin between my thumb and index finger. “I can’t believe I actually got away with-”

Something slaps against my ass with a swift, sharp strike. I jump in surprise, a startled yelp forcing itself free from my throat. Eyes wide, I whirl around to find Sylus smirking down at me with one hand casually tucked in his pocket, the other hanging at his side.

“Sir!” I exclaim, rubbing the spot he hit. It was tingling, though I can’t say if it’s from the slap or the knowledge that it was him who touched me. “What happened to leaving yesterday’s grudges in the past?!”

“You’re so naive, kitten. For a man who is more active at night, ‘yesterday’ is still today.” He closes the distance between us and leans down until his lips are at my ear. “Pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll bind your wrists until you’re begging me to set you free. Do you understand?”

My breath hitches. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He nips my earlobe before pulling away. “The driver will take you home.”

Even after he disappears back inside, I’m still staring at the door, my heart hammering and cheeks burning. Is a book cover really worth what I put myself through tonight?

My phone buzzed with a message. It’s from Kieran, showing proof that they held up their end of the bargain. Not only did they get their hands on the exclusive cover, but they got it signed.

‘Totally worth it.’

SFW Masterlist

Tag List:

@softlycandescent @goat-mama-breezie

[abiiors]

Just Let Me // M.H.

I got so carried away with this, my god. It’s best friends to lovers??? (read: idiots to maybe lovers). I am so proud of how this turned out and I genuinely hope you like it <3 (reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated)

I’ve kinda tried an omniscient POV in this so I hope it works. It’s mostly angst but there’s a happy-ish end. A positive one at least.

WC: 3.2k (my longest yet)

Warnings - Reader is struggling with mental health, a whole lot of crying in this one, yelling too. And quite a lot of swearing

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Drabbles

Your phone buzzes with another notification in your hands and you stifle another groan. That makes it ten now. 

All you want to do is put on the saddest movie you can find, have a good cry about your day, week, month and then curl up under a million weighted blankets. You simply want to forget about your life for just an hour or two but Matty (or rather, fate) has different plans.

Normally, when he sends you useless memes and silly reels, you make sure to reply to all of them. You even send him stupid stuff in return but all you’ve managed today is to leave him on read. 

It takes too much energy to open DMs, to respond to them—the energy that you simply do not have today. It’s one of those days. Lately, it’s always one of those days. They might as well be the norm now. 

Are you ignoring me now?

His message makes your phone buzz again and you wonder if flushing it down the toilet is a good idea. 

Are you ignoring him? No, yes, maybe a little. But only because he’s just so intuitive when it comes to you. You sigh, open the text chain and start typing up a response. But it’s already too late. 

Your phone is buzzing again; this time with an incoming call. 

You consider pressing decline or just letting it go to voicemail but he won’t give up until he’s sure he hasn’t done another stupid thing to make you mad. So you simply send a quick prayer out into the universe and press Accept. 

‘Hello…’ you try so hard to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. But it cracks on the last syllable anyway.

There’s a small pause at the other end of the line and you know he’s analysing that voice break. The sound in the background slowly grows distant and fades away as you realise that he’s moved to some quieter location. 

‘So…’ he hesitates a bit and you can instantly sense the suspicion in that one tiny word. ‘Are you home?’

‘Yeah,’ you quietly try to clear your throat, ‘yeah, just got in.’

‘And how was your day?’

Shitty! 

‘It was fine,’ you move around a few things on the dresser, hope that the noise is enough to distract him from the shift in your tone. But he’s smarter than you give him credit for. 

‘You’re lying to me.’ It’s not a question, it’s a statement. 

‘I’m not—’

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he interrupts, ‘I am not as stupid as you think I am.’

‘You sure about that?’ you try lamely but it lacks any of the usual laughter in your voice. 

‘Rude! And don’t even try that with me right now,’ his voice holds a rare sternness. It’s not that he’s wrong. He did correctly call you out on that lie. The fact that you’ve known each other for close to seven years now makes it so much harder to lie to him. You contemplate dropping the act. You contemplate telling him everything, all about how life has been so difficult to handle lately; how you constantly feel like you’ve bit off more than you can chew. 

But he’s so busy… And you don’t want to trouble him. 

Their new album is set to release in just a bit over a month and there are a plethora of last-minute things to do; thousands of special edition CDs to sign and finalising the last details of various interviews, finalising the details of the tours. 

‘I’m just a bit more tired than usual, I promise you,’ you bite your lip to keep it from wobbling and hope that it’s enough to convince him. 

‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ There’s no protesting the finality in his tone. Not like you have the chance to because he instantly hangs up after that. 

As much as it is not his fault, it feels like this phone call has leached out the last of your energy. All you want to do is curl up in a ball on the hardwood floor. So that’s exactly what you do. Five minutes turn to ten, turn to fifteen until you lose track of time. Your eyes burn from all the unshed tears and it’s hard to keep them open anymore but you cannot stop staring at the little pink stain on the rug. 

You remember how Matty messed around your house that summer, spilt nail polish on your (then) new rug. How you painted his nails in all the neon colours you owned as revenge. You remember him saying how the stain was his way of making sure you’d never forget about him. 

As if…

A few sounds manage to break through the buzzing in your ears. There’s the sound of tyres pulling in your driveway, the sound of a car door opening and closing. And at last, the jangling of keys as someone tries to open your front door. 

You instantly know who it is. You’ve had each other’s house keys for a good few years now and today, for the first time, you wish he didn’t have them. You wish he wasn’t here at all. You wish you had never picked up his call. 

In a minute, he’s going to walk in here and find you curled up on the floor like a lunatic. He’s going to think you’ve finally lost the last shred of sanity. 

In a minute, you’re going to look at him and find him looking back at you with barely concealed pity. 

In a minute he’s—

‘What…’ he interrupts your train of thought and you make the barest of effort to peek at him through the curtain of hair that’s fallen over your face.

Matty’s not alone; or rather, he’s not empty-handed. He’s holding the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen as well as a giant Tesco bag. You don’t have to ask him to know that he’s bought all your favourite junk food and that sugary ice tea you love so much. You also hear a few wine bottles clinking in there. 

It’s too much, all of it. He’s being so considerate, so nice. And you have no strength left in you tonight to conceal the feelings that bubble up in the face of this niceness. It’s supposed to be priceless, this gesture yet all it manages to do is be the last fucking straw. 

The restraint snaps and your eyes flood with tears and now they can’t stop flooding with tears. When before your eyes burned from unshed tears, now they can’t stop shedding them. And you cannot control the gasps and sobs that are being torn out of you. 

He swears softly and then chucks everything in his hands on the settee. He wastes no time running to you, wrapping his arms around you as he tries to pull you into a sitting position.

‘Sweetheart, hey,’ he’s trying to be soothing which only makes you cry harder. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘I just got in,’ you blubber through the tears. It’s such a shitty excuse too but he doesn’t push it. 

‘I’m here,’ he says; repeats it over and over again like a mantra. 

His fingers caress your spine softly, almost lovingly but you refuse to think of it that way. What’s the point in romanticising simple comfort when it will only lead to more heartbreak?

‘Talk to me,’ he urges after a bit. 

‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ you shrug your shoulders, look anywhere but at him. ‘Everything is a bit overwhelming lately, that’s all.’

He softly touches your chin, tries to make you look at him but you won’t budge. 

‘You’re doing it again…’ 

‘Doing what again?’ If playing dumb is what gets him off your back then so be it. 

‘This…’ you see him point at you from your peripheral vision. ‘You’re pretending like it’s not a big deal.’

‘That’s because it’s not a big deal,’ you mumble. Your eyes snag on the photo on the wall. It’s Matty and Hann pointing at some graffiti on the Berlin Wall and making goofy faces and it almost makes you smile. You have fond memories of this trip, maybe even the last time you felt truly happy. 

His gaze follows yours and rests on the photograph. 

‘Remember how you kept butchering the lyrics to 99 Luftballons?’ The smile in his voice is evident and you know he’s thinking of the same memories that you are. 

‘I didn’t butcher them!’ you say begrudgingly. In truth, you absolutely did but that was a carefree version of you. That was a different person who did not mind screaming the wrong lyrics at the top of their lungs, who laughed at the stupidest of jokes and cracked even worse ones. 

‘I haven’t heard you sing in a long time,’ he confesses. 

‘I just haven’t found scream-worthy songs in a long time,’ you deflect.

He shakes his head because he realises that you’re intent on being difficult tonight. He has to take a different approach to this.

‘Let’s go back,’ he suggests, ‘maybe even go to Italy this time.’

It’s such a ludicrous suggestion really that you snap your gaze back at him. He’s looking right at you, he’s never stopped looking right at you. 

‘What’s the point in making these plans,’ you laugh bitterly, ‘you’ll be gone in a month anyway.’

‘Then come with me.’

He says it so softly that you’re unsure if he even said it in the first place. He seems to come to the same realisation because he clears his throat. 

‘Come with me.’

Go with him…

‘You think it’s so easy,’ you scoff and wipe at your eyes furiously.

‘Isn’t it?’

It’s these two simple words that cut through all your barely-there calm. 

Isn’t it? 

Isn’t it?

‘And what about my job? My responsibilities? I can’t just run from everything!’ You muster up all the strength left in you as you yell at him. 

It’s as if it has opened up a dam inside you and now you can’t stop the flood of words. 

‘Not all of us have the luxury of doing what we love and travelling and fucking around. Some of us have to SURVIVE! Not all of us can just pause everything at the drop of a fucking hat.’

By the time you’re done, you’re sobbing so hard that you’re certain your heart’s about to crack in two. Any minute now…

But then his warm hands are grabbing your face. ‘Hey, hey,’ he’s whispering, forcing you to look at him, ‘hey, I need you to calm down a bit okay? Okay?’

The tears make his face look blurry and unclear but the concern in his voice is unmistakable. You can almost imagine the deep crease between his brows right now; how his mouth would be tilted downward. Still, the sobs don’t subside. 

‘Please, please,’ he’s begging almost, ‘will you take some deep breaths for me? Please…’

You are trying, you have been trying. All this time you have only been trying to make it from one deep breath to the next. 

‘Please…’ his voice cracks.

Gently, so gently he picks up your hand in his, observes the red half-moons formed on the palm because of how hard you’ve been digging your nails into it, and swipes a thumb over it. It takes him a second or two before he manages to control the tremble in his own hands. It’s only when you touch the soft cotton of his t-shirt, that you realise that he’s holding your hand over his heart. 

The fog clears just a smidge as you feel his strong heartbeat under your palm. Compared to his, yours feels like a galloping horse. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you sob once you’ve come to your senses. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

‘Stop…’

‘I know you work hard,’ you close your eyes tightly, let a few more tears escape, ‘I know your job isn’t easy.’

‘It’s not,’ he confirms. ‘I know you think I’ve no reason to complain.’

‘You’re misunderstanding me—’

‘And I know I’m so lucky to be doing what I do,’ he continues as if you haven’t spoken at all. 

‘That’s not—’ 

‘And I know you take your responsibilities much more seriously than I do…’

‘Listen to me—’ you try to interrupt again but he’s having none of it. 

‘No, you listen to me. Take a sabbatical, quit your fucking job for all I care. It’s not making you happy, it’s never made you happy. I’ll take care of you. You know I will.’

You roll your eyes and try not to scoff at his words but that just fuels him even more. 

‘Fuck, why won’t you let me! You took care of me when I needed it the most or have you forgotten about that? Have you forgotten how you held my hand as I checked into rehab?’

His voice chokes on the last word but he does not waver, he never wavers. 

‘Let me b—fuck, let me be there for you,’ he pleads. 

You grasp at straws, try to come up with even one reason why he shouldn’t be here right now. 

‘You already have a million other things to take care of.’

‘And they are all secondary to you.’ He wastes no time in answering. All this time that you’ve spent not looking at him, all that resolve crumbles in an instant as you finally turn to him. His hand twitches to wipe away the few tears that have slipped out but he stays put.

‘Please stop…’ you whisper—beg—through the lump in your throat. ‘Please stop saying things like that.’

‘And why should I?’ he challenges. 

Because you’re only saying them to make me feel better.

Because you just want this pity party to end. 

Because you are just fulfilling your obligation as my friend…

‘Because you don’t mean them…’ you breathe. 

You might as well have slapped him in the face. That’s how hard he flinches away. In fact, he would much rather you slap him in the face than hear you accuse him of that. 

Your entire body goes cold when he stands up, tries to put distance between you. And you have to grab the arm of the settee to make yourself get up. The spot on the floor where you were curled up should have been warm by now. Instead, it feels ice cold. 

‘I don’t mean them?’ His voice is so soft, so lifeless.

‘No, that’s not what I mean—’

‘You think I’m here to score some brownie points?’

He’s getting riled up now. That was the last straw for him and now you’ve finally managed to step over the boundary. You’ve finally crossed that invisible line.

‘Tell me why I’m here,’ he demands. 

‘I don’t—’

‘I need you to tell me why you think I’m here.’

‘Because you’re my fr—’

‘Don’t you fucking say that word,’ he shouts, ‘Don’t you dare say that word.’

You feel hollow sitting there; like a husk of a person. There’s no point to this conversation anymore but he’s not giving up. 

‘Ask me why I’m here,’ he shouts again and this time you can’t hold it in any longer. 

Your head pounds inside your skull and your patience is wearing thin. You’ve tried apologising, you’ve tried deflecting but nothing has worked. 

‘Fuck!’ you yell back, ‘Why ARE you here?’

‘BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!’ 

The silence that follows is the loudest silence you’ve ever heard.

He staggers back—eyes wide and mouth agape—and almost crashes into your TV. He can’t believe he’s just let that slip out. That was supposed to be his one secret.

And you can’t ignore the way your heart simply stops. 

Because how long have you waited for him to say those words? How long have you imagined whispered I love yous in the dead of the night in Matty’s voice? How long have you yearned?

He’s made up his mind now. He can’t take the words back, he doesn’t want to take them back so he squares his shoulders and looks you dead in the eyes.

‘Because I fucking love you, okay?’

This silent confession, a confirmation that the first one was not a fluke, nearly brings you to your knees. You beg your legs to hold you up as you take a small step toward him. 

‘You do?’ 

‘I have been in love with you for as long as I have known you.’ The exasperation in his voice is clear, so is the undercurrent of regret. 

For as long as I’ve known you…

Seven years…

Seven years that you could have had with him

‘It’s okay if you…’ he has to swallow a few times to stop himself from getting choked up. He has to blink a few times. ‘It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.’

Words cannot do justice to what you feel. 

Seven years…

This evening has gone from difficult to damn near impossible and there’s simply not enough air in the room. 

Seven years that you’ve wasted, you can’t let yourself waste another second. 

You stagger toward him and he’s instantly there to catch you, to hold you so close. He wastes no time tilting your chin up because he will die if he doesn’t do it now. And he will never find peace if he doesn’t know the taste of your lips. 

This kiss is unlike any other you’ve ever had in your life. There’s no elegance to it, no softness. Your teeth clash against each other multiple times in the first few seconds. It tastes like tears and stale cigarettes. It tastes like longing and yearning and hope. Best of all…it tastes like him

And it is, without a doubt, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life. 

It’s the best because it’s him. It’s always been him and now you finally get to have him.

‘I’m an idiot,’ you mumble against his lips. 

‘A proper imbecile,’ he confirms and you slap his arm lightly. 

‘You’re an idiot too!’

‘At least I had the courage to confess,’ he challenges.

You bury your face in his chest, breathe in his familiar scent, listen to his racing heart to calm yours down. Time is irrelevant in this moment. It could have been aeons or it could have been seconds, the only thing that truly matters is his body pressed up against yours. 

He knows he’s probably holding you tighter than he should but he’s held himself together—all alone—for so long that if he lets go now, he will crumble.  

‘So what happens now?’ you speak into the silence that surrounds you. 

‘Now I spend a lifetime making up for the last seven years.’ 

There’s no hesitation there, only determination. 

A fresh wave of tears gathers in your eyes. You know he can feel them dampening his t-shirt but he simply holds you tighter. 

‘I’ve got you, my love,’ he shushes, starts rocking back and forth and presses his lips to your hair, ‘I’ve always got you. And I’m never letting go.’

---

(If you caught the one lyric reference, ilysm)

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

HI ANGEL god i love this okay so i’d love a matchup with someone from jjk, please. i do have a favourite, and i do have a type…so i’m curious to see who i’m matched with. i’m a leo stellium — leo sun/rising/mercury/mars w/ a pisces moon and a virgo venus. i’m also an enfp. i’m a bit of a firecracker. passionate and intense, feisty and emotional, spoiled and demanding, principled and loyal and incredibly romantic. i’d like to think i’m brave. i’m not afraid to fight for what i believe in. i’m also the eldest daughter, and a bit of a perfectionist. i’m a huge city girl, and i enjoy reading, writing, shopping, and curating hyper-specific Spotify playlists. i also love doing my skincare and makeup, and have an extensive shower and self-care routine that gives me almost the same benefits as therapy does. i adore late night drives, sunny but cold weather, the mountains, and the city lights. i grew up amongst skyscrapers, and i couldn’t live without them. my favourite way to spend a night out is with my girlfriends, going from one swanky bar to the next, exploring new restaurants, giggling and gossiping the entire time. i’m not a big fan of the outdoors, or of bugs, lizards, amphibians, stinginess, and indecision. i talk a lot, i love talking. i suppose it’s why i tend to gravitate to people opposite from me. i get along best with them, i think. my best friends are both introverts and i’ve always had a thing for quieter men (especially those of the darker-haired, slightly brooding variety). i’m still discovering my style but i know i like stuff that’s bolder, a little glamorous, and i’m a huge bootcut jeans girl. perhaps a little y2k inspired? i only really wear gold jewellery, but i’m trying to mix metals at the moment. i’m plus-sized and just started working out! thank you so much. x

Baby girl what a lovely day because you’re getting matched with….🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Geto Suguru!!🥴

You didn’t even have to say you had a type, I read the first few lines and I was already thinking about mister Sugs🤭

This man adores you, we all know he tends to go for someone on the more extroverted spectrum and there’s nothing more our little Aquarius needs than a fire sign to keep him on his toes. He LOVES how passionate you get when you’re standing up for what you believe in, he’s also not above ticking you off on purpose just to hear your voice if he’s feeling particularly needy.

Who are we kidding, homies first love was a clan member so we know he loves a MATERIAL GWORL

Don’t even THINK about pulling your card out when you’re with him. He’s paying for everything + your girlfriends things because he got it like that(especially in his cult leader era😩)

He’s the type to let you do your own thing but to walk behind you and glare like the big guard dog he is. But if you say come, he’s by your side within seconds.

Treats you like his queen and practically worships you, doesn’t make any big decisions without asking you first.

I’m pretty sure he’s an only child meaning he’s a little used to things being his way, but if you want something it’s yes ma’am and no questions.

Basically whatever you want is yours baby💖

Activists you two do together….

• walks late at night when the earth is still

• beach trips

• have picnics and listen to music

[alvaeris]

cool! I think I've heard of it, but i've never played. i play Minecraft mainly, occasionally roblox. I'm so glad you like the song!! your playlist name is very true. yeah!!! I was super excited when I found out about it. also, writing a script??? that's INSANE/pos my program hasnt done that as far as I'm aware. it gets easier as you go along!! 6 hours is more than we usually do, if that makes it better. typically there is a commander calling cadence, but sometimes it a matter of watching people in formation with you. fair enough!! I just started going this year. I'm hyperverbal (basically I never shut up) so I am also a grandmaster in the sport of yapping. i used to play chess but I got bored of it. a little bit busy!! gotta stay going though. as for the questions i totally didn't forget to answer, I found your account about a month ago I believe, but i don't remember how I found it.

-🦌

it’s pretty similar to dead by daylight! or so i’ve heard. i don’t actually know anything about dead by daylight. also, MINECRAFT!! i used to play a lot, but i can’t do so anymore. i wish i had minecraft on mobile too grgrgrgrrrrr… i tried to keep a lot of pets in my minecraft days. mainly mooshrooms. i love mooshrooms so much. they’re the cutest mobs ever plus they give out mushroom soup which is… pretty insane. they’ve got a whole soup kitchen going on inside them. they’re adorable i want a million mooshrooms. i’ve also tried to keep the ender dragon as a pet, but for some reason if you spawn it in the overworld it always flies to spawn?? like it tries to go to 0,0,0 coordinates. which is fine if you live at 0,0,0, but i didn’t. so unfortunate….. one day i will try again. I WILL GET MY DOMESTICATED ENDERDRAGON, NO ONE CAN STOP ME. what games do you play on Roblox?

it’s at moments like these i realise how spoiled for choice we are with our instructor. she’s the nicest! she lets us write our scripts if we want to, as well as choose what topics we want to act on, and suggest plays we want to do. we did a horror/musical/slice of life production earlier this year. it was pretty cool! i was in the musical bit. i love musicals. sadly my role didn’t do much singing, though.

i would assume so! but it would be hard to get started if you’re completely unused to physical training. i hear 50 jumping jacks in drama for warmups and immediately wish to die. also, what’s cadence? is it, like, the rhythm or whatever of how you march? also, the image in my head that pops up at ‘watching people in formation with you’ makes me giggle, because i can just visualise a bunch of people in formation furtively glancing left and right at each other while marching, so they’re just constantly side-eying the people next to them.

i think with the length of this response it’s safe to say that i, too, like to talk. a lot. i might be hyper verbal too, maybe. i feel like i seem quieter irl, though. it’s just the speed of my thoughts, which is probably why I’m chattier when writing stuff down. i have a love/hate relationship with online chess. i love it when i win, and when i lose i decide that i despise it and always have. but with physical chess i never lose. if someone were a move away from checkmating me I’d simply eat their pieces. CHECKMATE!!!

a month is a pretty long time, damn. i hope i’ve been entertaining! i try to be, eheheheheh. you can never know how many people you have just watching you without interacting. like you, probably. you’re interacting now, though, which is great! i love interaction. i giggle and kick my feet whenever people interact with me. i just love attention in general!

i am just now realising how long this is, HELP. when i am in the mood for yapping i do not shut up ever. I AM SO SORRY.

[angstyaches]

i’ve been thinking about a halloween prompt for donnacha because i’m so incredibly obsessed with his and henry’s relationship dynamic.

i know you’re not big into overeating, so you know how when you don’t eat, you eventually start to get a little woozy and gross feeling? donnacha hasn’t eaten in hours cause he’s been busy running last minute halloween errands (can you get more candy? we have to have this very specific sweet! that place was out? oh no! can you try here?!) for everyone and he’s starving by the time he gets home.

he’s staying in with henry this year because he doesn’t like going out and hen doesn’t really go out anymore either. plus, donnacha doesn’t want to see a repeat of last year where he walked in on henry anxiety puking on the bathroom floor after snapping at lucy. so he beats a hasty retreat to henry’s room to get away from the mayhem happening in the shared space after he gives everyone their stuff, and he’s got a bag of his favourite junk food with him that he starts to munch on while he jabbers on to henry about his day. everything is going great!

only… his belly isn��t really liking all the sugar and it isn’t really helping his headache go away and he’s getting quieter and quieter until henry finally asks him what’s wrong.

-🐭

Yes, it's December 2nd, and yes, I know this is late.

Thank you so much for this lovely, detailed, thoughtful request, anony 🐭, I appreciate you so much and I hope you're well.

I've had this draft for so long and I'm a bit tipsy right now as I'm posting it, so I'm sorry if there are typos/inconsistencies, or if it just straight up isn't good 👍

CW: overthinking, stomach pain, mention of cheating, mention of breakup, overindulgence (sugar), mention of chronic pain, platonic caretaking.

Word Count: 4,200+

___

Donnacha barely had a second to breathe as he stepped through the door, before he was being beckoned through to the living area by someone who didn’t even live here. 

Autumn was dressed as Belle from Beauty and the Beast; her outfit was casual, nothing extravagant like the yellow ball gown from the movie, but he could tell that was who she was. He felt a pang of recognition at the lace detail on the collar of her yellow blouse. Had she worn that on a date once? Had he been with her when she’d bought it? A second pang, this one tinged with loss. 

It still sent him reeling, sometimes, that she wasn’t his, and he wasn’t hers. 

“What is it?” 

“Get in here.” 

Donnacha sighed. He’d been running on empty all afternoon, actively ignoring the rumbling in his stomach and the tension in his brain for hours now. Now that he was home, he felt like wilting. 

He blinked in bewilderment as he stepped into the living area. Lucy had been stringing up Halloween decorations since halfway through September, but she’d really doubled down at some point since he’d left this morning. He could barely see the mouldings for the amount of fake cobweb and crepe paper streamers filling the corners and tapering off across the ceiling. 

But it was the unfamiliar faces that really threw him. 

“Donnacha, this is Dixon,” Autumn said, gesturing towards the Asian guy dressed as Legolas from Lord of the Rings, and then to the dark-skinned girl in the ladybird costume. They were both sitting on the couch, flanked by a seated Claudette on one side and by Autumn standing at the other. “And this is Leigh. We’re in the musical together. Guys, this is Donnacha, my –” 

She didn’t falter as she spoke, but in between her words, Donnacha’s heart did a sickening flip. Was she about to bring up the fact that they were exes? He wasn’t sure he was comfortable advertising that with these people he didn’t know – 

“Oldest friend,” Autumn finished. 

Donnacha let go of a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “I mean, I’m not that old.” He smiled; both Dixon and Leigh had beautiful smiles, so it would have been a little difficult not to. “Great to meet you both.” 

“You, too,” they practically said in unison, which led to Leigh curling her lip and softly backhanding Dixon’s leg. Next to Dixon’s knee, there was a glossy pride pin that caught Donnacha’s attention. It was attached to the strap of a side bag that he was holding firmly in his lap. 

Donnacha breath caught in his throat as he thought about the flat cardboard packet that was currently sitting in the top drawer of his bedside table. Inside, still wrapped in plastic, was a bisexual flag pin. He’d been a little drunk and dizzy when he’d ordered on Etsy, and it’d seemed like a great idea at the time. He’d even smiled proudly to himself when it had arrived, but as soon as he’d started opening the package, as soon as he’d started thinking about actually wearing the pin, a pain had bloomed in the pit of his stomach. It just seemed as though advertising his identity was unnecessary. Maybe dangerous. Undoubtedly more trouble than it was worth. 

He understood it now, though; he felt himself wanting to be seen, to be recognised, like Dixon. 

Shit, he thought. Maybe he should have mentioned his pronouns after Autumn had introduced him – 

It was too late now, because Lucy was scampering up to him, hands outstretched. “Thanks, hon.” 

She relieved him of the shopping bags that had been testing the limits of his shoulder sockets for the past hour. He smiled at her tiredly and looked at her skinny denim jeans and plaid shirt, wondering if she hadn’t gotten changed yet, or had poured so much Halloween spirit into decorating the flat that she had none left to fuel a costume. 

“You kept the receipts, right? I’ll pay you back tomorrow afternoon,” Lucy said. 

“What are you dressing up as tonight?” Claudette asked from the other end of the sofa. Donnacha realised she was addressing him. Their eyes were pinned on Donnacha’s face over the rim of their cup. Autumn had promised – of her own volition – that she would never tell anybody that Donnacha had kissed someone else during their relationship, but he could never quite shake the feeling that Claudette knew something more than they let on. 

“Eh, nothing.” Donnacha shook his head. “I’m… I’m actually not coming out tonight.” 

“Oh, you’re not?” Autumn looked genuinely crestfallen, which gave Donnacha yet another strange pang in the centre of his chest. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he boxed it up, tucked it away in the back of his mind, and tried to stop thinking about it. 

“Jesus, Donnacha!” Lucy called out from behind him. She’d propped the bags on the edge of the coffee table and was fishing things out, one by one. “You let us boss you around on the phone all day, and you’re not even partying with us? Why didn’t you say something!” 

“Lu, it’s grand, seriously,” Donnacha smiled. He edged a little closer to her as some familiar packaging caught his eye. He’d almost forgotten that he’d grabbed something just for himself amidst all of the bossing around. “These are for me,” he chuckled sheepishly, reaching for the packets. 

Lucy just nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, fair enough.” 

“Anyway, I’d already promised I’d drive to the shops before this other plan came up…” 

“Ooh-ooh, other plan?” Lucy lowered her voice, though everybody could still hear her, clear as day. “A hot date?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Donnacha smirked. “I’ve got a date with this floppy-haired lad who works in web design and never leaves his bedroom.” 

As soon as he made the joke, he wanted to snatch it out of the air and swallow it back down. It had somehow sounded like an unnecessary dig at his friend, and implied that it really was a date. How the hell had that happened? 

“No – I just… Me and Henry, we’re just gonna watch a movie and hang out. You know, after what happened last year, I didn’t think it’d be good for him to be, you know, overwhelmed…” Donnacha couldn’t believe it was his own mouth that was saying these things. Nobody needed him throwing about reminders of Henry’s meltdown last Halloween, least of all Henry himself. 

Autumn gave one of her politest smiles and turned to say something off-topic to Leigh. Claudette was still eyeing Donnacha with a curiosity that bordered on disgust. Even Lucy didn’t seem to know what to say, which was never a good sign. 

Donnacha frowned, irritated. He’d spent all afternoon hunting down everybody’s requests for the Halloween party, edging through traffic jams, bothering staff members about their stock. He hadn’t expected to be hoisted up onto anyone’s shoulders like he’d scored a winning try, but shouldn’t he at least be allowed to be himself? 

He pushed that feeling aside, packing it up alongside his confusing feelings about Autumn, and his reluctance about his identity, and his nervousness about Claudette, and his guilt about Henry. 

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his stomach, which delivered to him a nasty twinge to remind him that the last thing he’d eaten had been a pathetically small, dry article that had barely passed for a blueberry muffin at 10am. The packaging of his chocolate bars crinkled in his other hand, and he couldn’t help eyeing the half-empty plates that were scattered throughout the room, holding mini spring rolls and spicy wedges and breaded cheese sticks. 

“There any food left?” he asked, feeling oddly grateful for the opportunity to change the subject. 

“Yeah, lots.” Payton. 

Donnacha turned around. 

They were sitting at the dining table, and had been quiet and staring at their phone since Donnacha had come in. They were wearing a navy jacket and had curled the front of their hair, but Donnacha didn’t care to contemplate their appearance any further. 

They half-smiled at him and nodded towards the kitchen. “Help yourself.” 

Help yourself. Of course, Payton would know all about helping themself, since they’d helped themself to Autumn less than a fortnight after the break-up – 

“Thanks,” Donnacha said, making a beeline for the kitchen. 

Everything edible was spread out on baking trays and was dried out from the oven and cold from sitting out too long. It was hardly an appetising site, especially while Donnacha was already thinking about tearing into his Macaroon bars. He’d been hit with a wave of nostalgia when he’d spotted them on his hunt for Lucy’s obscure requests, and he’d bought them thinking they would be his desserts for the next few weeks, but who was going to stop him from making them into his dinner tonight? 

His stomach gurgled quietly beneath his hoodie. On top of the sharp hunger pains, it felt knotted with tension. He couldn’t believe how easily he forgot how skipping meals affected him, making him shaky and emotional. It’d been a mistake to let it get this bad. 

After tossing a small handful of wedges and some ketchup onto a plate, Donnacha tucked his chocolates under his arm and swept through the living area one more time. 

“Happy Halloween, have a good night,” he smiled, and he didn’t stop to let anyone’s expression or response sink in. 

___ 

“Oh,” Donnacha deadpanned, “you’re working?” 

Henry didn’t turn around at first, and Donnacha realised it was because he had his noise-cancelling headphones on. He must have seen the light from the hallway reflected in the computer screen though, because the further Donnacha pushed the door open, the more Henry’s attention seemed to twitch away from his work. 

He took off the headphones and swung his chair into a half-turn. “You’re late.” 

That face was a relief to lay eyes upon. Henry had washed his hair, there was some colour in his cheeks, and the circles under his eyes were barely a smudge. His eyebrows were scrunched up in a frown, but that was hardly unusual, and Donnacha knew that Henry could be frowning himself into a knot and still be genuinely content. 

He didn’t understand it, but he knew it. 

“Did you say something, by the way?” 

“Yeah.” Donnacha tossed his Macaroon bars onto Henry’s bed. He sat down on the mattress, his plate of wedges on his lap. “I was trying to ask what you’re playing at. Working? I thought we were watching a film.” 

Henry’s mouth slid into a thin, stretched line, his expression taut with unvoiced laughter. 

“What?” Donnacha asked. He thought for a second about what he’d just said, popping a mini spring roll in his mouth and crunching down on it. Then he sighed, replaying in his head what he’d previously said, hearing it through Henry’s ears. “Seriously? Fil-um?” 

Henry cracked a smirk. 

Donnacha pointed at Henry’s computer screen. “Switch that off.” 

“I want to finish what I’m working on.” Henry held up his hands, pre-emptively stopping Donnacha from protesting. “This is on you. I had to start something to occupy myself, and now I have to finish it. You were very late.” 

“Yeah, I’m extremely aware. Bloody starving as well,” Donnacha said over a grumble in his stomach, dipping a cold potato wedge into the little pool of ketchup on the side of his plate. “So, are we not actually watching this movie anymore?” 

“Of course.” There was no little amount of judgement in Henry’s gaze as he adjusted the bridge of his glasses. “I still can’t believe you’ve never seen The Nightmare Before Christmas.” 

Donnacha chewed without much relish. He took in, for the first time since entering, what Henry was wearing. “I still can’t believe you own a... baby-grow.” 

Henry glanced down at his orange one-piece pyjama set. “It’s a onesie.” 

“Same thing.” 

Henry held eye contact with him for a few seconds as he pulled the hood of the onesie up over the top of his head. A Jack O’Lantern face was stitched into the hood, and a little green stalk sat at the crown of Henry’s head. “It was a birthday gift from Lucy.” 

“Was it? All she gave me for my birthday was scratch cards.” 

“Try being her friend for ten years.” 

Eyeing the pumpkin pyjamas one last time, Donnacha shook his head. “You know, I think I’m good.” 

“Mmhmm,” Henry grunted. Hood still pulled up, his attention had already been drawn back to his computer screen. 

Donnacha let him work in silence for a couple of minutes, slowly chewing his way through his pile of wedges, but eyeing his chocolate bars with much more enthusiasm. He hadn’t had a lot to eat yet, but having calories inside of him had improved his mood drastically. 

Licking a smear of ketchup from his thumb, he glanced up at Henry. “Did you get some food?” 

Without tearing his eyes away from his work, Henry pulled his hunched shoulders further back into his chair, unblocking Donnacha’s view of a paper bag that sat next to his keyboard. “I secretly ordered Thai noodles while I was waiting for you. You were very –” 

“Very, very, very, extremely late,” Donnacha finished for him. It brought a smile to his face, to picture Henry in his pumpkin onesie, creeping down the hallway to collect his food at the front door without alerting anybody else in the apartment. 

“I have some leftovers, if you’d like to warm them up.” 

“Nah. Thanks.” Donnacha reached over to put his half-full plate on Henry’s nightstand. The scratching sound of ceramic on wood made Henry’s gaze jerk to the side. 

“Hmm. Thought you were starving?” 

“I am.” Donnacha rubbed his palms together. 

“Then, what are you going to… What are those?” 

Donnacha grinned broadly as he tore open the first packet, and the wrapped chocolate bars fell onto the bedspread. He felt a spark of pride upon seeing Henry half-turn his chair again. “Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t know what these are.” 

Henry’s head bobbed from side to side. 

“They’re Macaroons!” Donnacha exclaimed. “They’re a classic. Don’t tell me you never had these as a child?” 

“My mother didn’t care much for sweets.” Henry touched the bridge of his glasses again. 

“Want to try one?” 

Henry shook his head. “I’m full.” 

“Alright, but you’re missing out.” Donnacha picked up one of the bars and laid it to the side. “Know what, I’ll save you one.” 

“Save me one?” Henry’s voice rose. “How many are you planning to eat?” 

“Never you mind!” Donnacha waved a hand towards Henry’s computer before his fingers began wrestling open the wrapper on the bar. “Don’t you have graphics to design, or something?” 

“I do.” 

The first mouthful of the bar seemed to melt away on his tongue, but after the second, Donnacha began to feel the warm, giddy sensation of sugar settling in his belly. Mentally, he was right back in his hometown – or rather, the closest village to the remote area where his father’s farm was located – surrounded by crumbling stone walls and single-lane roads and the smell of vegetation. 

Donnacha happily burned his way through three more of the bars, and was fishing the next one out of the packet when he let out an involuntary sound that Henry clearly found distracting. “Mmm.” 

“Enjoying yourself,” Henry observed. Maybe it had been intended as a question, but there was no doubt in his voice. 

Donnacha shook his head in a way that meant yes. “You have your cartoons and your old films, Hen –” 

“Fil-ums,” Henry repeated incredulously under his breath. Every time, he acted as though it was his first time hearing Donnacha pronouncing that specific word in that specific way. 

“But this – this right here –” Donnacha flattened the empty wrapper between his thumbs and stretched it tight, so that the words lay flat and the pattern unrumpled. “This is pure childhood joy for me.” 

Henry’s desk chair creaked as Henry shifted his weight, bracing his hands on the armrests. He looked vaguely uncomfortable, and Donnacha was about to ask him if something hurt, but was cut off. 

“You had those a lot,” Henry asked, “as a kid?” 

“Every weekend, after mass,” Donnacha nodded, chewing quickly so he could swallow. “Da’d stay at the church because he’d be talking to the priest, and Mammy had this group of friends who would stand and smoke just down the road, and they’d – they’d give me and Aoife some pocket money, and…” 

He took a break to swallow again, saliva filling his mouth as the sweet aftertaste lingered. 

“And the two of us, we’d hightail it down the road, to the corner shop,” he said. “The shop owner was called Mrs. Breathnach, and she always took her time coming down to open up after mass, but me and Aoife were always the first ones waiting for her, and she used to know our favourites off by heart, so she’d be unlocking the shop and rattling off, ‘a Dip Dab for Aoife Ní Mhurchú, a Macaroon for Donnacha Ó Murchú, and one carton of milk’. Mammy always got us to pick up the milk as well, so there’d be milk for Sunday tea…” 

He was quickly realising that there was no satisfying end to this story, no way for him to whip up the words to properly convey why these were such important memories. 

Henry had stopped working altogether and was looking at him from the desk chair. His dull green eyes were unreadable as always behind his glasses, especially in the low lighting and with the computer screen glare reflected in the lenses. 

“Sorry.” Donnacha swallowed again, realising his cheeks were burning and his stomach was doing flips. He took a bite of chocolate. “I’m rambling like my Uncle Seán at Christmas dinner.” 

“It’s okay –” 

Donnacha gestured towards the computer screen. “Do you not need to get your work done, so we can watch this movie?” 

Henry was silent for a couple of seconds. Donnacha genuinely didn’t feel like chatting anymore, and he was really hoping that Henry wouldn’t push the subject. But he thankfully turned his chair back towards the desk and took the computer mouse in his hand. 

After a little while, Henry reached for the chocolate bar that Donnacha had placed aside for him. He undid the wrapping so that there were no tears down the side, no damage done to the text or the design. His careful precision brought a private smile to Donnacha’s face. 

“Want to finish it?” Henry asked after eating the quarter that he’d broken off. 

“Aw. Do you not like it?” 

“It’s nice,” Henry said, “but I’m still full from dinner.” 

Donnacha pressed his lips together as he eyed the chocolate in Henry’s hand. His throat was dry, and his stomach was now pulsing with pain. “Wrap it back up. Have it later.” 

Once again, he expected Henry to refuse, especially since he didn’t seem overly enamoured with the bar in the first place, but thankfully he nodded and folded the wrapper down over the open side. He went back to tapping away with his computer mouse. 

Donnacha sank back a little on the bed, trying to find a comfier position that didn’t place too much pressure on his stomach. He started to reach for another chocolate bar but stopped himself.  

“You’ve gone quiet,” Henry remarked after a notable amount of time had passed. “What’s wrong?” 

“What d’you mean? You asked me to be quiet.” 

“Never usually stops you.” Henry sat back in his chair, reaching up under his pumpkin hood to scratch his scalp. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“’Course you –” 

“Why did you stop telling the story about these bars?” 

“Because – because it wasn’t really a story,” Donnacha frowned. “There wasn’t anything else to tell, and I didn’t want to just keep… you know, rambling on.” 

“That word again.” Henry’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Do I ramble on when I talk to you about work, or movies, or my life, or whatever?” 

Donnacha frowned. “No?” 

“But that’s what it felt like you were saying. Do I tell you too much? Because it feels as though you never tell me anything about yourself.” 

“There’s… not much to know –” 

Henry scoffed loudly, a sound Donnacha had not expected to hear from him. It set his teeth on edge, and the sensation was uncomfortably similar to the hurt that flared up when he thought about Payton and Autumn. 

“You don’t tell me shit either,” he said. He was trying for a calm, measured tone, but somehow managed to sound like a sulking child. Like he’d gone into the corner shop and they were all sold out of Macaroons – 

“What?” Henry choked out. 

You – you never told me why you stopped going out, why you stopped being Lavender, why you stopped bringing dates here… Donnacha’s stomach turned over, and he was hit with the sudden realisation that he might be sick. The back of his hand hovered towards his mouth. How the hell could he even have considered saying that? How could he compare the details of his silly little life story with... whatever it was that had kept Henry locked up at home for so long? 

He was just grateful he’d managed to bite his tongue before speaking. 

“I’ve upset you.” A dry hitch in Henry’s voice. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, Hen, it’s not – it’s not about that.” 

His breath caught in his throat, heat swelling in his cheeks, as his insides gave an uneasy shift. It mightn’t have been so bad – in fact, it relieved a little pocket of pressure in his belly – if it hadn’t sounded like a lawnmower engine trying to take off. No denying it now. 

“Pain in my stomach,” Donnacha admitted, massaging his side. “Right here.” 

Henry turned his head, just slightly, and Donnacha caught sight of the look on his face. Something more than a sneer, something less than an eye roll. And his eyes were trailing close to the packets of chocolate bars that sat next to Donnacha on the bed. 

“What?” Donnacha demanded. 

“No comment.” 

“You think I did this to myself.” 

Henry turned back to his screen. “No comment.” 

“And no sympathy either, I take it.” Donnacha sighed and pressed a little harder into his belly as he rubbed. The pain was warm, tight, tucked right up under his ribs. It felt a little like bloating, without feeling overly full. Like all of the chocolate had clumped together in his stomach and was sitting like a dead weight. 

“I never said that, now, did I?” 

Donnacha looked up to see that Henry was actually shutting his computer down. “Oh... you’re done?” 

“Mmm. Yeah. Let’s go with that,” Henry said, which suggested to Donnacha that he wasn’t actually finished, but Donnacha was too relieved to make an argument. He hadn’t really acknowledged it, but the main thing getting him through the day had been this – time with Henry, time in which neither of them had to pretend that they were something they weren’t, or less than they were. 

Henry spun his hair to the side and eased himself to his feet, wincing as he unfurled his legs. It suddenly felt silly – insensitive, even – for Donnacha to be complaining about something as fleeting and, yes, self-inflicted, as a belly ache. 

“Are you okay?” Donnacha asked, half-rising from his position on the bed. “Is – is your hip...?” 

“My hip’s fine,” Henry said as he sat down heavily on the edge of the mattress, one arm extended in Donnacha’s direction. “Come here.” 

Donnacha exhaled and allowed himself to sink into Henry’s embrace, to enjoy the feeling of soft waves of hair brushing against his own. His own was short, aerodynamic, clipped and primed for always being on the move, while Henry’s had an air of messiness, of softness, of a way of living that involved no urgency.  

Good, Donnacha thought with an odd flare of protectiveness. With all the pain and hardship that he’d been through, Henry deserved that kind of life. 

A hand pressing against his belly made Donnacha groan and cuddle in closer, but shame pushed against the warmth in his chest. 

I was supposed to be taking care of you. 

Donnacha heard himself let out a whine, and his cheeks flushed. In an almost instantaneous response, Henry wrapped his arm tighter around Donnacha’s waist, tucking his face into Donnacha’s hair. 

“How about you just try to get some sleep.” Another question that wasn’t a question. An offer that Donnacha wanted to sink into. Henry’s arm trembled against his ribcage, but he kept the hug going. 

Donnacha shook his head, hair bristling against Henry’s stubbled chin. “Let’s watch The Nightmare Before Christmas.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” Donnacha rubbed at his eyes and tried to sit up a little, resisting the urge to let his body curl around the sickly pain beneath his abs. “I might need a few more belly rubs, though, if you’re up for the job.” 

Henry clicked his tongue in the back of his throat and pressed a quick, passing kiss to the side of Donnacha’s forehead. “Of course you do.” 

[easypeasylindyvesey]

APRIL 2027- PART 2

The couch sinks as someone sits down next to me. Oh, gee, I wonder who it could be?

I turn my head and see Adam give me an apologetic smile. “How’s it goin with you?” he starts. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

I return that smile. “Not much to say given the circumstances,” I reply.

“Hey. I noticed that, uh, that you forgot your bouquet in the car that night,” he says. “I came by a couple weeks ago to return it to you, but I guess you weren’t home. Then I came by again a couple days later, and you didn’t answer either. I see your car’s still in the parking lot, so I got confused. Don’t worry, though. I put the bouquet in a vase in my house and it still looks fresh.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” I say. “I, uh, I’m actually staying with Jimmy right now. I have been for the last few weeks. He’s, uh, he’s the one who met me at the hospital, and he felt we both shouldn’t be dealing with this by ourselves right now. I should’ve told you guys, though. And yeah, my car’s still there because I’m in the process of getting a parking sticker from the apartment complex, but that takes awhile, so the two of us have just been driving around with one car for right now. You can keep the bouquet for now. I can always get myself another one.”

“How is living with Jim?” Adam asks. “It’s not, uh, too much for you right now?”

I shake my head. “No, not really. It’s kinda nice to know someone’s always gonna be there God forbid there’s an emergency or something like that. I’ve crashed in the guest room. I went back to the condo to pack some things, but I haven’t been back since. Once the parking situation is sorted out, I’ll go back and get the car. I mean, we don’t really invade each other’s space that much. We’ll have meals together and go on walks just to get out of the apartment, watch TV or baseball if it’s on, but we don’t push each other to talk. It’s more of a mutual trust, I guess. I don’t know what he thinks about this whole thing.”

“I think he doesn’t wanna risk his chances of saying something that’s gonna upset you,” Adam responds. “He’s being consciously aware of the idea that you don’t want to have an entire discussion about it yet. I wouldn’t say he’s keeping his distance, more so that he’s giving you space to figure it out, you know? I mean, like you said, you’re not pushing each other’s buttons to talk about it, but I think both of you will be there for the other. It’s just a matter of when you’ll tell each other that.”

Another Harvard man that’s good with delivering a message. Seriously, did this school hold a mandatory class on how to do this stuff?

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I say. “Thanks.”

“You got it,” he says. “Hey, I guess I’ll just ask you this now since we’re both here, but uh, Tate and I were wondering if you’d wanna go to Montauk for Memorial Day weekend. We think it’d be a good way to just get out of the city for a bit, go back to the island and get out of our heads. You can invite Jim if you want too so that it’s not an uneven number.”

“I would love that,” I smile. “I loved going there last year. Amazing was an understatement. But, uh, I’m gonna have to think about it, see how I’m feeling.”

“No worries,” says Adam. He pats my shoulder and stands up, moving away from the couch and walking over to Key, starting up a conversation with him. And here I am alone again. 

I toss my head back onto the rim of the couch and stare up at the ceiling. It’s just plain white, but damn, those lights are blinding. I shut my eyes to reduce the sensitivity. The chatter has become quieter. I’m assuming we’re all waiting to walk into that room. If I have to relive this at the funeral tomorrow, I might just not bother showing up. I will succumb to the anticipation before anything else.

My eyes gently flutter open when I hear someone’s shoes scuffling behind me. Now it’s who I think it is. “How’s the weather up there?” I tease.

He doesn’t smile or even move his mouth. Instead, he bends down and leans his mouth toward my ear. “You okay?” he whispers. Goosebumps travel down my entire body, yet I’m mostly covered. What’s that about?

“Yes,” I whisper back. “Do you know if we’re leaving soon?”

“I don’t know,” he says, “but do you need anything before we do?”

I sigh. Why is he always asking me if I need something? How many times have we been over this? Jesus.

“I need you to stop asking if I need anything,” I spit back. 

“Alright,”  he says. “Noted.”

“Okay.”

“And I’ll let you know the weather up here is quite cold. A little chilly, if you ask me. You seem to have dressed better for it than I did.”

“Well, at least I own an umbrella for the rain,” I smirk. “I don’t know how you want to walk around and be drenched. Wouldn’t that bother you?”

“Guess I’d already had my shower for the day then,” he says. His breath is still hot on my ear. I feel a deep pit in my stomach starting to form. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to get one tonight.”

“Yeah, you better,” I say, facing him to only be met with his lips. I look at them for a few seconds before looking into his eyes. They’re slightly chapped, but very long. Do men ever carry chapstick? Or is that another universal phenomena that can’t be explained?

I finally lift my head up from the couch. It just so happened that was the time the door finally opened and in entered a young woman fully dressed in black. “Alright, everyone,” she starts, “The room will only allow 8 guests at a time, so I’ll go down the list in order from who signed in. Our first group will be Peter, Dan, Michael, Chris, Mika, Adam, Filip, and Kaapo. If you could all follow me, I will direct you to where you need to go. Everyone else, just sit tight, okay? If there’s anything you need in the meantime, just pop on out and ask reception and they will gladly oblige.”

I watch the first group exit out the door and how it shuts behind them. Guess I’ll have to set a mental timer. Based on when I signed it, that’s at least another hour. Lord help me.

The remainder of the team is quiet for the first few seconds before initiating conversation again. I lean over to the table to pick up the TV remote. I’m not going to be able to entertain myself just by looking around the room. “Anyone have a preference?” I squeak out. I hold down the power button on the remote and it instantly starts playing the news.

“I’m down for baseball if it’s on,” Alexis replies.

“You got it,” I say, flipping to MSG, where there happened to be a New York Mets game on. “I know it’s not your team, so sorry about that,” I gesture toward the entire room.

“That’s alright,” Key says. “Thanks, Abb.”

I give him a tight-lipped smile before fiddling with the remote in my hands. Everyone’s attention directs toward the TV now, swiveling in their chairs by the bar and looking at the screen attentively. I watch along with them, but I just can’t get into it. It’s a temporary distraction. It’ll be fine.

I hear a sigh from behind me. I turn around and see Jimmy sitting on the left arm on the couch. He’s fixated on the game. I snap him out of his trance by saying “You do know you can sit here, right?”

“I just wanna give you space,” he replies without looking at me.

“Cut the shit,” I answer back. “Seriously, fucking cut it. Stop treating me like I’m glass.”

“Did I ever say you were glass?” he snaps back, right before the room exclaimed in the disappointment of what would have been a home run.

“You’re sure as hell treating me like it,” I mumble.

“Not the time for this,” he grits through his teeth. “That sure was close, man,” he voices to respond to those who were actually trying to watch the game. 

I turn around and clutch a pillow on the couch, squeezing the absolute daylights out of it before cradling it gently. I guess that was my way of releasing the anger from that quick conversation. I guess it’s his turn to cop the attitude.

Toward the end of the 4th inning, the door opens and I turn my head to watch the first group return from visiting Ryan and his family. I’m immediately drawn to Chris’ face, puffy eyed with red cheeks. He definitely cried. Mika was close to following behind, his eyes a little glassy, but I guess he’s trying to hold it together for the sake of everyone. Everyone else looks the same from when they first left; the thing is that they’re no longer the same person they were.

The same woman emerges in the doorway with the clipboard where the sign-in sheet is. “Okay, so the next group will be Alexis, Jonny, Vincent, Will, Braden, Igor, K’Andre, and Artemi. If all of you could follow me, please.” I watch the next group make their way out. It’s crazy how their demeanors instantly changed. That’s how fast life can, too.

The returning group finds their own seats to claim, some of them resorting to the mini fridge for water, perhaps to choke down any potential buildup of voice cracks or tears. They, too, become fixated on the TV. I serve this as an opportunity to get up from the couch and pick the person to hang my heavy questions on. Definitely not Chris because he’s still visibly shaken up. Not Adam because I’ve already talked to him. Mika’s pale as a ghost. I don’t want him to disappear. So I pick someone that’s always going to tell me as it is: Lavi.

I motion my way over to him, slowly yet attempting to incorporate the tiniest existence of confidence. He meets my eyes as I straggle over. “How, uh, how is he?” I begin.

“He looks at peace, Abby,” the coach says. “He’s, uh, he’s got some cuts on his face, but that’s not out of the ordinary with him. It never was. He’s got a nice suit on, and his hair is combed out quite nicely. They’ve got several displays of pictures in there, a lot of them including you, lots of one-on-ones. You’ve actually got a whole board named Ryan and Abby dedicated for the both of you.”

Wow. Everyone knew he loved me that much, huh?

“Actually?” I whisper.

“Yeah,” Lavi replies. “It’s, uh, it’s a very nice gesture. Whoever came up with that idea surely had you in mind.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“But it’s a small room,” he continues. “The family’s up front, receiving condolences. I’m sure they’ll be very grateful to see you once you’re called in.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” I reply. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

I make my way back to the couch. I notice Jimmy’s finally sat down on it, though on the end. He’s staring at the wall. I guess he’s found a new way to disassociate. 

I sit down on the other end. “Did it take me leaving to sit?” I argue.

“Guess it did,” he says nonchalantly.

I tap my hands on my dress before turning to face him. “Is there something you need to say to me? Because I’m not liking the attitude.”

He longingly sighs before shifting his torso to me and looking at me. “And I’m not liking this situation,” he says. “Do you think that any of us want to be here right now? Do you think this ever could’ve happened? It’s just like a slap in the face.”

“It is,” I say. “And it’s terrible, but we’re all here together, and I’m sure he would have been overwhelmed with gratitude that we all flew here to say goodbye. We’re all feeling the same way right now. We just have to sit with it and work through it. Unless this is not what it’s truly about and you’re mad at me or something.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Jimmy retorts.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe because I’ve been acting like your dog on a leash for the past month and you can never seem to get away from me because I’m always in your space.”

“Well, that’s how I feel about you, too,” he deadpans.

Oh.

“I’m just gonna let you know that you are not, in any way, never, ever, will be a burden,” he says. “Not to me. Never have been, never will be. Especially not in these moments. You understand?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” I gawk. “Same goes for you.”

Jimmy nods and returns his attention to the TV. “I’m sorry about before. And, for the record, I don’t think you’re glass. You’ve always been able to hold your own, and there’s no doubt you still will. I just want to check in on you, that’s all.”

“And I’m fine,” I reply.

He doesn’t respond, instead looks at me, but this time, it’s past my soul and perhaps into another world. It’s as if he’s drawing my face from scratch and ingraining it into my brain in case he ever forgets it. I guess that’s his way of saying that he knows I’m lying. I’m fine with that alternative. Better than actually admitting it.

The room begins to get stuffy as I glance around it for the billionth time. I feel that I’ve been stuck in this room for the entirety of my life. It feels like a death sentence. It feels as if all of the punishments I’ve had to receive throughout my time on this planet, the universe decided to hand me this. I need to get out of here. Unless this is all a simulation and he’s still walking around somewhere, waiting to scare the crap out of me when I actually see him. God, I really wish it was.

Everyone in the room continues to watch the Mets. It’s not a surprise that they’re not doing well, currently being down by 6 runs. I don’t understand the obsession with men and baseball. I don’t find it entertaining. But, hey, if it makes them happy, I can’t change that. And if it distracts them from the reality, then I’d rather not interfere. I rest my head back on the couch and close my eyes, hoping I succeed in the attempt to drown everything out around me, at least for the time being. 

I think about what is perhaps the worst part of this entire situation, and that’s how the drunk driver who hit Ryan got sentenced to only 9 months in prison, along with one year probation. He should’ve been sentenced for so much longer. It’s vehicular manslaughter. It’s DWI. It’s murder. Once again, the justice system fails. And they don’t even care. And it sure as hell does not bring him back. It makes me sick.

I wasn’t allowed to go to the court appearance for whatever fucking reason, but once the news broke, and it was splattered all across TV and newspapers, I do not exaggerate the idea of throwing an absolute fit. I’m talking an absolute hellfire. Raising my voice and screaming at almost everyone and everything, calling his family and the attorney that represented him, the actual court. It was not a good time to be around me. Calling my mom and venting to her about it. That moment alone made me feel I was extremely capable of exerting my anger onto someone, and in more ways than one. Hell, I would’ve gone to jail for murder in that instance.

I also have to remind myself that he does not actually exist anymore. It’s just his soul. Not his body. I can’t walk out of here and wait for him. Instead, he’ll be following me around. How long? I don’t know. Perhaps he’s going to haunt me. It feels as if he already is. I can only pray that he’s at peace. Knowing he called me as if he knew I would be the last person he would ever speak to, I can’t help but feel so guilty. He could’ve called his mom, his dad, one of his brothers, anyone on the team, and he called me. Everyone deserved to hear him one final time. And it’s a shame that I lost the opportunity.

[facetsofthecloset]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Was tagged by @meteor--shards​, but tumblr tumblred and didn’t notify me at all! I just happened to see the post while scrolling luckily lol

(idk why this keeps happening even when people tag my main blog. should probably contact support about that >_>)

Were you named after anyone?

Yes, my first name came from my dad’s tai chi teacher’s wife. Which sounds like a weird random connection, but they were practically his second set of parents so, yeah.

When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday. This morning? idk man i’m on an emergency trip back home at my parent’s place for mental health reasons i am not at my most resilient rn

Do you have kids?

As in actual kids I birthed myself, hell fucking no, but considering the age gap between me and my brothers I half-consider them my own kids in some ways.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Why no, never. Not at all. Not even the tiniest slightest bit. Perish the thought.

[^i’m lying for the bit] What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Uhh, never really thought about it, but if we’re meeting in person, probably their height?? Just because most people are taller than me so the first thing I have to do is crane my neck lol

If we’re talking about online, I only ever use tumblr, so probably their tags

What’s your eye color?

Brown. Pretty much black though.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings, usually, because for a long time I was too wimpy for any kind of horror. In recent years I’ve really started getting into it but I still tend to go to media for happy endings because real life generates enough horror for me most days MY GOD what is happening with the chickens!?!

Sorry our flock of chicks was being really loud just now because one got separated by a thin concrete wall that was very echo-y lol (they’re fine now)

Any special talents?

Eh, dunno about that. My party trick used to be leaning over backwards really low (think, like, for playing limbo or Matrix bullet-dodging) without falling over or touching the ground, but the pandemic nuked my stamina and all physical ability, so I’ve just been in mild but constant pain for the past year or so.

I guess I’m decently quick at picking up the very basics of new creative mediums (paints or embroidery or whatever), maybe that counts.

Where were you born?

Japan. Oh dear that chick got separated again hang on

nvm it was a second chick that got separated earlier as well and was hanging around the kitchen door, which was why it was so loud. It’s fine and much quieter now.

What are your hobbies?

Writing and drawing mainly, but I’m the kind of person who has five million hobbies because I need to rotate between them to keep myself interested. So auxiliary hobbies include costume making (covers a lot of different hobbies honestly), swimming (in the ocean. and not like, proper forms and all that. just being in the water basically), parkour (can’t at present for physical condition), roller/ice skating (once again, not atm), started woodcarving the other day (kinda falls under costume making because i’m trying to make a wizard staff lol) and whatever else I feel like taking a stab at for one day and then maybe never again (I should try fencing. maybe when my back isn’t in constant pain)

Have any pets?

At my parent’s place, there’s a cat, a dog (both fairly elderly), bunch of half-wild chickens, various fish, and a tortoise (the kind that get big). Don’t keep any pets at my place because I travel back and forth too much and it wouldn’t work logistically.

What sports do you play/have you played?

Like on an official team/club? None, aside from parkour briefly. Otherwise it’s stuff I mentioned in hobbies that I learned either on my own or had a friend casually give me tips or something. My parents have been teaching me tai chi on and off through the years? Does that count it’s a martial art isn’t it I mean

How tall are you?

5′2″ is what I tell people. Technically I’m just a hair too short for that but it sounds defensive to say 5′1.8″ when I don’t actually care that much lol

Favorite subject in school?

Art, enjoyed the marine biology course I got to take in hs. Was good at English but never loved the way any of my teachers taught it. Technically my hs history class was my favorite but that was bc of the teacher and not the subject matter.

Dream job?

I’ve always wanted to be a fantasy writer, but I figure that can be a long term goal. For now, for a job that would sustain me? I would LOVE to be involved in theater costuming or even just grunt work in a production company. Something creative and silly. I’m considering applying to work at Tokyo Disneyland despite grievances with the company overall just because being in a themed environment every day and getting to see “behind the scenes” does sound fun. Even though I’m sure the work culture is probably horrible. idk something to do with costumes or practical effects would be amazing.

I also love bugs and animals but I have a harder time visualizing myself working in related fields there

I don’t have 15 active mutuals, but: @mariegoos, @vonlipvig���, or anyone else who wants to play, feel free! No pressure tho

Thanks for the tag! It was fun :)

[quinnsendtoend]

Day 3

(I’m definitely going to forget what day number I’m on soon)

I slept well, maybe cause it was quieter, maybe because I was to exhausted to care. It had rained in the night so my tent was wet, but at least it wasn’t raining while I took it down.

I left the stupid sand dunes as fast as I could, and walked along the beach. I will admit that my pace was fairly slow, mostly because I kept stopping to draw pictures in the sand.

I did a bit of walking along roads in the morning, but it was still very pretty. I got to wick and went to a shop to get some food, and then I sat and ate lunch. It was alternating between very sunny and heavy rain, which made putting on and taking off layers pretty constant.

There was a cool old tidal swimming pool just outside wick. I didn’t walk much further as it was along the cliffs and the weather was getting worse, and I didn’t think I would find another good camping spot.

Day 4

It was very windy and rainy when I woke up so I decided to cut across some fields to get to the road. I definitely made the right choice since the weather only got worse. It was pretty but a lot of the time all I could see was rain.

I passed through a village called thrumster (I think) which had a little museum to the railway that used to be there. There was also a pub but it was too early in the morning for it to be open. I walked about 20km to lybster where I had a late lunch in a very nice cafe. And then checked into a hotel, which was a lovely break from being constantly wet and cold, and definitely needed.

And now, the heavily anticipated wildlife update…

birds; different types of gulls and lots of another seabird that I don’t know what it is called (that may be a pattern in this wildlife update), it was black and white and had an oddly shaped beak, maybe I’ll look it up some time. I saw a big black bird that I think might be called a shag but have no idea why I think this so it might not be. Also lots of little birds on land.

Insects; (these aren’t all insects but they are going in this category anyway) there have been a lot of slugs (maybe cause it’s wet) and there were loads of little snails in the sand dunes. There have been quite a few butterflies. The midges were around on the first day, but I think it’s been raining to much since then (So far not needed to use bug spray). Also bees, before it was raining super heavy all the time there were loads of bees, it was cool I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many bees in one day other than at a bee hive.

Animals; I saw a few rabbits, mostly early in the morning. There was one fox in the sand dunes. At one point there was a small rodent which was cool, maybe a vole? (I also don’t really know what those look like). I saw an adult and a baby deer which was very cool. Also I maybe saw seals? They were far away and I’m not even sure if seals live round here, so I may be wrong.

I’ve past a couple of whale watching spots, but so far no whales. So far.

I think that’s all the stuff I’ve seen, though I’m probably forgetting something.

[femininomen0n]

oh i’d love to hear your thoughts on season 3! idm you going off topic from my the point of my ask haha it’s always nice to have discussions with people ^^

- 🌟 (so you can identify me jdhdjsj)

(and YES! i know!!! it’s so irritating to see people act like not living a luxurious life = bad ending or the end of the world. like… that’s so– there’s smth so “ew” about that sort of thinking. why can’t one of the leads forgo her comfy aristocratic lifestyle to become a working woman? i feel like they’d be that couple that runs the print shop together and focus on printing radical papers ugh! the perfect story for their characters)

okay, first allow me to apologize for how long it’s taken me to answer this! i won’t bore you with the details, but it’s been one thing after another (heat exhaustion, family stuff, went away with my friend for a few days, etc) so i’ve only just had the time to think about your ask.

anyway, i have mixed feelings about this season. there were things i loved— cressida and eloise, fran, john, and michaela, the featherington family— but so much of it was… lackluster. i’m going to dump my thoughts below; i’ll try (and fail) to keep each point brief!

i’ll start with the low-hanging fruit: the makeup and costumes were all over the place- most of the outfits looked cheap, ugly or both, and don’t even get me started on the acrylic nails. i miss eloise's spencer jackets (save us, sophie canale, save us!)

daphne’s not my favorite character, but i was surprised by how much i felt her absence this season. the show shines brightest when it focuses on the families, but without her everything felt a bit… emptier.

they massively underutilized benedict this season, which was a bummer, since luke t is a true talent. at least the finale (seemingly) set him up to lead s4!

re: benedict, i kept waiting for him to interact more with eloise, but it never came! she was clearly struggling this season (quieter, less rebellious, rejecting her previous interests) and i find it hard to believe that benedict wouldn’t pick up on that at all. instead the show chose to push the colin and eloise relationship, which i wasn’t a fan of. there was nothing inherently wrong with it, but it paled in comparison to ben and eloise and felt a little out of nowhere for me.

i liked polin’s dynamic in s1 and s2. though i preferred (and continue to prefer) other characters/couples, i was looking forward to their story. unfortunately, it fell flat for me. they were sold as a friends-to-lovers story, but i found that angle hard to believe. colin’s whole fake-charming persona was uncomfortable to watch- it may have been that way on purpose, but it just didn't land with me.

so much of the cast- part 2 eloise in particular- behaved incredibly OOC for the sake of the happily-ever-after. rushed, unearned happily-ever-afters aren't a new problem for this show, but it was especially apparent this season because penelope's actions as whistledown were by far the most impactful on both the main cast and the wider ton.

i also hated that the show framed penelope’s inability to let go of the column as a feminist choice. while penelope’s business acumen is impressive, whistledown is ultimately a gossip rag that wields the ton’s baked-in misogyny as a weapon. many of the women (and men) that penelope targeted did nothing to harm her. i wasn't crazy about it on a symbolic level either. whistledown was penelope's outlet when her personal life got to be too much; a real "hurt people hurt people" situation. i didn't find her choice to continue with whistledown (instead of turning over a new leaf by, say, writing novels) empowering, i found it sad. she's married to the love of her life, she’s a mother, she's mended her relationships with her family, and she's still attached to the gossip column that she has used to ruin lives and reputations. it's not a good ending for anyone.

and that’s about it! thanks for letting me chatter :)

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Cupid's Chokehold | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! I don't write smut anymore- this is smut adjacent. And because it's me it's got some angst, but also fluff. It's kind of a catchall.

Warnings: domBucky, subReader, talk of sex, sex acts, choking, discussion of kinks, Bucky's trauma

------------------------------------

Back before you got together, you’d imagined Bucky’s style in bed as gentle, almost too polite. He was from a different era. Things in his day certainly weren’t as wild as the current age. And after his time as the winter soldier, you knew his soft touch was an overcompensation. A penance for the violence he’d performed.

You feared you’d scare him with your kinks and deepest desires. But his quiet nature held a depravity you hadn’t expected. 

When he asked you to find his notebook and read aloud a phone number he’d jotted down, you never expected what you found.

“Baby, did you find it?” he called, but you didn’t hear him. You didn’t notice his footsteps growing ever closer, either. Only when he touched your shoulder did you realize you weren’t alone. 

“I didn’t mean to- it just opened to this page and I…” you stammered. “Buck, is this a sex bucket list?”

Bucky’s cheeks reddened, and he kicked himself for asking you to flip through his notebook. “I didn’t- it wasn’t supposed to be a bucket list…” he said. “I heard about a bunch of things, and I didn’t know what they were. I just wrote them down so I could look them up, but…”

You eyed his list and read a small selection. “Bondage. Edging. Impact play. Marking. Hmmm…” Everything on his list enticed you. “So, you liked some of ‘em, huh?” you nudged your shoulder against his.  “Seems like you’re the dominant type.”

Your sex life with Bucky was slow and steady. He still didn’t trust his own strength, still feared he’d hurt you. And giving his body over to you, no matter how much trust you built, presented its own set of challenges. He was still working through some things, and you never pushed. But something about the way he looked at you as his notebook sat open in your hand made your cheeks hot.

“Yeah, I liked a lot of ‘em, actually,” he said, his hands fidgeting. “I just don’t know why I like those things.” Something unpleasant darkened his gaze. Out of pure instinct, he took a small step away. “I know what it’s like to not be in control, you know? I’ve been restrained and marked and hit…” His voice fell a bit quieter, “I know how it feels. And I don’t want to do any of that to you.”

The heat building in your chest fizzled at the mention on Bucky’s abuse. He had no realistic gauge for measuring what was and wasn’t okay. So much happened to him during his time at Hydra- he had zero ownership of his own body. They stripped him of his autonomy. It made sense that he feared these particular desires. 

“Nothing you experienced was consensual,” you said. “That was abuse. The way this stuff works,” you gestured to his notebook, “this stuff is all agreed upon. It’s discussed and negotiated. There’s safe words. No one does anything that the other hasn’t said yes to. You know each other’s limits- it’s about safety. And trust.”

He nodded.

“And as far as preferences go, everyone likes what they like. Maybe you steer more toward dominance because Hydra took your sense of control. Or maybe it’s something else completely.” You dotted a kiss to his lips, “I don’t know why I’m submissive in bed. I just am. And I don’t see you any differently for the things you wanna try. I encourage exploration.” You shot him a wink shut his notebook, handing it back to him.

Something in his smile reignited your lust. “I know we’ve been taking things kinda slow because of my, um, unique situation…”

“I’m not in any rush, Buck.”

He rested a hand against your cheek and dragged his thumb across your bottom lip. “I know, baby. I was just thinking…” He nearly stopped himself. What if he made you uncomfortable? He wasn’t sure exactly what you liked just yet. Up until this point, everything in your sex life was cautious and calculated. No spare energy or focus went to kinks or fantasies. He kept a careful watch on the way he touched you. He knew what you didn’t want, and you knew the same about him. But everything else remained a mystery.

“If you want to help me check a few things off my list, we could start tonight-”

Your ‘yes’ was immediate.

But before you could make it to bed, Bucky pulled you into the living room and made you sit in his lap. He had you give him every detail of what you liked. What you wanted. He listened and asked questions and shot you a wicked smirk every time something you said stoked his fire. Focusing on your words when his ever-hardening cock nudged against you time and time again was nearly impossible. 

In return, he told you what he liked, what piqued his interest- what he wanted to do with you. His breathe hitched as you listened with your hands trailing down his abdomen. You’d been right- he was dominant. And everything he wanted seemed to line up perfectly with the things you thirsted for. It sent rush of heat to your cheeks. Who knew he had such a kinky side? 

Together, you agreed on hard limits and safe words. And, while Bucky did want to spank you, he showed no interest in doing so with anything other than his right hand. “I don’t wanna use this one…” he said, clenching his metal fingers into a fist, “it would hurt too much.” And you assured him that he didn’t have to- he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do.

When he finally carried you to bed, your mouth nearly watered. Everything was a haze of lips and hands and sweat- it almost had you dizzy. And even though Bucky knew your limits, he still had to ask every so often. He checked in when you went quiet- or got particularly loud- but always a received an affirmative in response. 

“No nodding,” he said when you were too breathless to speak, “can you use your words for me, doll?”

After a few greedy inhales, you gave your answer. “Yes. I-I’m good.” You wanted him to consume you, to never stop touching you. 

His left hand pinned your wrists above your head while his teeth left mark after mark across your chest. He teased you, had you almost begging. And when you didn’t beg, he flipped you over. If you weren’t going to play his game, he’d turn your ass red until you did. You shot him wicked smiles and bratty shrugs, never following his instructions. 

But when you finally played along like a good girl, he granted you what you wanted: his cock. 

He drove into you time and time again, your legs hoisted up around his waist. His fingers dug into your hips and held you firmly in place. Nothing could make him break his rhythm- until you spoke up.

“Buck-” you breathed, reaching for his hand, “choke me.”

His hips stuttered to a halt.

You let out a needy whine and moved against him, “Wait, no…” Yet again, you tried to roll your hips against his, “don’t stop. I just want you to choke me”. You gave his hand a tug, “please?”

He leaned in close a dragged his lips across yours before responding with a firm, “no”.

You pouted. Maybe he was teasing you- yet again. Your bratty attitude returned with a vengeance, “Why not?”

“Because your headspace is compromised.” Bucky was serious. “You might want that now- but regret it after. And I don’t want that to happen.” He dropped another kiss to your lips.

“But, Buck-”

“No,” he said again. “We’re not gonna renegotiate now. We’ll talk about it later, baby.”

Another rebuttal found its way to the surface, but just as you opened your mouth, Bucky stopped you. “Be a good girl ,” he gave his hips a slow roll, “and don’t argue.”  And that was the end of it.

Bucky held your pliant body in his arms. He gave you some water to drink and inspected every bite mark and hickey that adorned your skin. He quite liked how they looked, and knowing you liked them too had him grinning. He checked in on you, doted on you, made sure you felt safe and loved and cared for. And when you finally came back to life, you were ready to talk.

“I’m really sorry about earlier, Buck…” you rested your head against his sternum in shame. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just got carried away in the moment and I-”

“See, that’s why I wouldn’t do it.”

You brought your face up to meet his, “what do you mean?”

“You said you got ‘carried away’, and that’s why you wanted me to choke you,” he said. “You weren’t thinking clearly. We didn’t agree on choking beforehand. And I didn’t want you regretting it after.”

You nodded.

“You said it’s about safety and trust. And if I did anything to break that trust or make you feel unsafe, I’d never forgive myself.” He ran a hand through your hair and brought his palm to rest against your cheek, “Plus, if I’m being honest, I don’t necessarily want to choke you.” A strange cold eliminated the warmth from his eyes. “I did that a lot when I was, um…” he clenched his metal fist, “anyway, it’s just not something I’m comfortable doing yet.”

“Oh, then forget it,” you said. “You don’t ever have to be comfortable with it- we can forego that completely.”

“But you want me to-”

“Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“What about-”

You silenced him with a long, soft kiss. “There’s no ‘but’ or ‘what about’. If you don’t want to choke me, don’t do it. This is about both of us feeling safe. And I don’t want to do anything that’s gonna dredge up shit from your past. Choking is off the table.” You gave him another quick peck to punctuate your thought.

The tension in Bucky’s shoulders fell away with your words of reassurance. He couldn’t shake the image of his vibranium hand wound too tight around your throat, blocking your air way, and crushing your windpipe. It made him shudder. But he cared about making you happy, about pleasing you. More than his own comfort. 

“I can work up to that- I just don’t want to right now,” he promised. His accompanying smile was a bit too wide, a bit too fake. “But I’ll get there, I promise. Just give me a little time and I’ll-”

You brought your hands to either side of his face, silencing him. “You don’t have to get there- I meant what I said. It sounds to me like that’s a hard limit for you. Is that correct?”

He shrugged. It was a non-answer; he didn’t want to commit either way.

“Okay- how about this? I told you earlier that don’t ever want to hit you in the face cause it makes me uncomfortable. Remember?”

He nodded. 

“Would you want me to ignore that limit if you asked me to slap you across the face?”

Without hesitation, he said no. 

“Then why are you willing to ignore a hard limit of yours?”

But you knew the answer. He didn’t have control over his own mind or body back at Hydra. He did what he was told, no matter what. And if he didn’t, he’d get punished. They’d strip him down to the bone with beatings and reset his mind until they could guarantee he wouldn’t resist. They’d break him all over again before putting him back together for the millionth time. 

And, though he knew he’d never face wrath like that with you, it was his nature to do as he was told. He may have been dominant during the act, but after was a different story. He aimed to please, to obey, to follow orders.

“This is our bedroom in our house and what we say, goes. Alright? So if you wanna add choking to your list of hard limits, we will. And you don’t ever have to try and get comfortable with it. You don’t ever have to do it.” This time, you pulled him into your body. You rested his head against your chest and ran your fingers through his hair. “Do we have a deal?”

Bucky nodded against your chest.

“Can you use words for me, babe?”

He smiled against your skin- it’s like you stole hie earlier words right out of his mouth. “Yes. Deal.”

“Good,” you leaned down and left a kiss on his head. “Cause we only scratched the surface of your notebook- there’s a lot more things we can try.”

———————

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll @god-ofthunder r @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky

[chubbology]

Getting Big

prompt: someone discovering they're a feeder as their feedee partner gets bigger

Sometimes you’re both in bed, distracted and ignoring each other on your phones or laptops, when you notice. Your eyes lift from your phone and notice your partner’s relaxed belly, rising and lowering with calm breath, stretching the fabric of their shirt. Really stretching it now, not just with every inhale, but by default. Not just pushing the seams a little with chubbier hips, but forcing the cotton to bow out close to its limit, forcing the stitching to cave into a belly button deeper and softer-looking than you remember. And your eyes inevitably take in the rest: thicker thighs, more shapely chest, less defined arms, softer jawline.  

You’re aware that your partner’s gained a little weight. More than a little, but it’s fine. Probably thirty or so pounds, not a big deal, and you absolutely don’t judge them for it. Have they mentioned it at all? No, they just keep tugging at their shirts and pants. And underwear. Their underwear is getting too small for them, with weight gain making them a bit of a pear and all, but you don’t say anything. You don’t say they need bigger underwear. You don’t tell them how much you appreciate the fact that they need it. As long as they stay mum on the subject of their weight and the fit of their clothes, so will you; that’s your rule.

Sometimes you’re both in bed, watching TV, and they’re eating their way to the bottom of a quart of appallingly flavored ice cream (super-caramel-quadruple chocolate-chunk type stuff), and you keep sneaking glances. Because you’re amazed they’re comfortable enough around you to eat freely like this—or so you tell yourself. Their eyes are so glazed with distracted pleasure that maybe it didn’t even occur to them not to gorge themselves tonight, right in front of you.

Not gorging themselves like some kind of pig—no, it’s just, you both ordered a lot of takeout just a couple hours ago, and then they snacked on chips for a while, and then there was that candy bar they ate on a whim while you took out the trash, and now it’s a whole quart of ice cream. A whole quart. The more glances you sneak at them, the more you notice how their budding second chin peeks out when they chew. The more you notice that their bites seem hasty, as if tinged by some kind of distant, unconscious desperation.

You lean against them as if too tired to stay upright, reaching over them casually, letting one arm rest against their belly. It’s soft. It’s bigger. Not a big deal at all, you tell yourself for the millionth time.

And yet, you ponder their weight more. You’ve been pondering it incessantly. You can’t stop thinking about how they went to the mall two weeks ago without telling you, bought clothes a size up, and already were uncomfortably tugging and pulling on on every tight band and seam again. You can’t stop your thoughts from wandering to the idea of them sizing up again any more than your partner can stop their hands from opening another package of cookies.

“Ugh, this stuff is so good,” they mutter, swallowing the last bite, then closing the lid on the carton and setting it aside.

“Mm. I’ll buy more then,” you say without thinking. It’s fine if they size up again, after all. You’ll love them no matter their body type. Their happiness comes first. “I’m going to the grocery store anyway.”

A couple months later, going to the grocery store is not a chore to you, but a fun outing. You never used to even go down the junk food isles if you were by yourself, but now you scour them carefully. You place things in the cart you know your partner will like, and consider new brands and products they might like to try. It’s all so colorful and thrilling to actually buy. You tell yourself you might even try some of it and ignore the intrusive thought of your partner sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night again to binge on half the goodies themselves.

What niggles at you isn’t that you’re buying way too much junk food for your partner, who’s a little overweight now. It’s not as if they’ve told you to stop, or have implied they want to lose weight, or have said anything about any of it at all. That’s the thing: you’re in uncharted waters, and they haven’t told you a word about whether they fine with the way the tide was turning or whether they were actually really concerned that they were getting heavy and a little jiggly and they didn’t know what to do about it, let alone have the wherewithal to say, Honey, stop buying junk food. I’m getting fat.

Just the thought of the word makes you blush at the box of Fudge Covered Twinkies you’re holding. You quickly set them back on the shelf. Twinkies were practically the poster food for getting fat, right? Surely, your partner would suspect something, even though there wasn’t anything to suspect. You just know that they like food, particularly food that’s soft and sugary and addictive, and what better, cheaper food to comfort them with than Twinkies? No, it wouldn’t be good for their waistline, but you can already see their eyes fluttering closed at the taste—which was probably not even good, but that was hardly the point, was it?

Compromising, you buy a limited edition blue-stuffed brand of Twinkies instead, preparing an excuse that you thought the novelty of it was amusing and wondered if it was good.

But later that night, your partner eats six of them while you play video games and doesn’t mention the novelty of it at all. Your character dies stupidly and your partner laughs at you, belly jiggling as they do. You swallow, eyes fixating on their fat thighs. There’s no other word for them—they’re fat. Their thighs have gotten fat, just like their belly got fat, just like their hips and chest and arms and even their neck and face has been rounding out with so much chub. They were fat and they did eat like a pig, and all signs pointed to more weight gain. They were going to keep gaining weight, and when was it going to stop? When you finally decided enough was enough? When their doctor told them to take control? Yeah, so, you could imagine them awkwardly saying, coming home from the doctor, I guess I gotta lose weight. Maybe they would be holding a pamphlet on obesity or something, looking ashamed.

And maybe they would try at first. You would help. They’d exercise a little here and there, maybe only eat one Twinkie instead of six, maybe not ask for takeout so often. But it wouldn’t last. The second their will broke, yours would too. And you’d both be in bed, distracted by nothing but endless waves of pleasure that your sex life hadn’t known in a while, them leaning back against the headboard, eating every fattening thing you had to offer, which would be many, many, as many fattening things as they’d agree to swallow down like they glutton they were becoming.

“Babe?”

You blink.

“You okay?” they say with that chubby face of theirs, a face that said, I’ve been gaining so much weight, and you’re really aroused.

“I’m glad you like those,” you stutter. You look at the Twinkies box, and so do they. Your mouth keeps moving without forethought. “I’ll buy you more next time. Any other flavors you like?” You set down your controller and push your hand into their hair affectionately. Since they’re slouched, they look up at you, and you lower your hand to the back of their neck, touching the bulge of the fat there. “Want me to get you your favorite ice cream? I know you had a long day at work.” You stand and head for the kitchen, ignoring your partner’s confused ums and wells.

You open the freezer and get one of many ice cream quarts. Thanks to you, the fridge and freezer have been stuffed to the gills with crap, but you can’t regret it, not when it makes your partner look perpetually stuffed to the gills too. You get a spoon and sit down next to them again, brain fuzzy with want. “You’ll feel better when you finish this. By the time you do, I’ll finally finish this damn level.”

“I’m—I’m not…” But the look in their eyes is conflicted. “I’m not that hungry, really.”

You laugh. Your body is buzzing. “Please. With you, when you eat and when you’re hungry are completely unrelated. Let’s make it a competition! Finish before I do. Go!”

“What?”

You’re already starting the level over, thinking to yourself What the hell? Don’t make them eat if they don’t want to. Even if they do want to, even when they’re full, because they’re greedy and addicted, gonna get obese soon—

A minute passes, and they’re sitting up, belly folded in rolls on their lap, looking poised to either stand up and put the ice cream away or rip the lid off and devour it all.

“Eat it,” you say innocently, or try to. It mostly comes out like a pathetic attempt at sounding not-horny.

You glance over, and they still look conflicted, so you lean over and kiss them on their tubby cheek. “Go ahead,” you say, quieter. You meet their eyes. “Don’t you want to?”

They look taken aback now, flushed. All at once, they seem aware of their blubbery, overweight body, and they shift on the couch. You forget the game and lean in again, kissing them on the lips, then deeper as they lean into you. “I know you want to,” you whisper. You cup their fattened hip, squeeze it gently. “I bet you really want to.”

They’re blushing really hard now, gone shy and speechless. So you move closer to them, and since their head is lowered to avoid your eyes, you land a sweet peck on their bulging second chin. Then you peel off the lid of the carton, tear the plastic off, and push the spoon satisfyingly into the over-processed sugar that has been fattening your partner out of their clothes so well.

Despite their air of reluctance, they eat the spoonful you offer as if on instinct. They squirm with pleasure, and your breath hitches when their plump hand twitches out to take the spoon away from you when you don’t use it quick enough. You scoop them another bite. Then another. The room is quiet except for the game in the background and your rapidly beating heart. Their eyelids lower, and you murmur encouraging words to them. That’s it. It’s good, huh? Big bite... The experience seems no less momentous to them than to you, and so you keep going. Their eyes drift shut and so you guide their mouth to open at the right times. Eventually, your cooing gets bolder.

“I know how much you like this. Like eating. Eating a little too much.”

Their mouth pauses around the spoon, but their eyes don’t open. They swallow and wait for the next bite.

“And I know you get up in the middle of the night sometimes, just to eat,” you say. “Eat and eat until your clothes feel tight and your stomach’s queasy, right? You always come back to bed so uncomfortable, tossing and turning, panting a little. Holding back little burps. I wake up and all the junk food I bought is gone.”

Your partner leans into to your next spoonful, then takes it from you. Without meeting your eyes, they start eating from the tub themselves, at twice your pace. You smooth your fingers through their hair. Then rub a hand down their arm, which was now sausage-like with so much fat clinging to it. But it’s squishy, when you pinch it. No firmness anywhere you can see.

“I’m sure you know you’re getting big, baby. You’re getting big. But that’s okay.” You rub your hands over their belly, their hips, their rolls of back fat. “You just keep eating as much as you like.”

And after another pause, they nod.