#i also used to get them from burping more than three times in a row

[writingforfishes]

Inducing thoughts

Every morning, I drink my coffee when it's a little too warm and every morning I am disappointed.

Every evening, I drink a carbonated beverage and every evening I am disappointed.

I put a little more spice, sometimes. But no.

I take a little air in and burp it out, perhaps more than normal. But no.

I fake them. I fake them fast. I fake them hard. I fake them soft. I fake them silent. I fake them loud. I fake them muffled.

No.

I let my belches out.

I keep my belches in.

Nope.

I get nervous. I get excited. I laugh. I cry.

I jiggle my belly. I poke under my ribs.

Nothing.

My diaphragm is an impressive being.

My phrenic nerve is sure of its purpose.

My vagus nerve is buried under protection only offering me panic attacks, sneezing from dry bread, and vaso vagal responses from blood as it's expressions of disorder.

My body is assuredly not a fish's body.

My reflex arc for belching is tried and true and never off its mark.

I am stuck with this overly efficient respiratory system.

My disappointment is hilarious.

Maybe one day I'll try sparkling wine again.

But those were not fun days when I couldn't help myself to bury in the lack of care it gave me.

The mornings were the worst.

My only hope is age making things a little less efficient and my diaphragm letting loose a little to offer me some fun.

[atlafan]

My Everything - Part Nineteen

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, and smut

Words: 11.5K

a/n: I can’t believe this is the second to last part! 

Masterpost

You always really liked the beginning of November. The leaves had changed, and it was the middle of the semester. You also, finally, looked and felt your best for the first time in a while. Since Jessica was over six months, she was able to go to day care at the college with Jack. Harry really missed bringing her with him to work, but at least he still had Buster. You couldn’t believe that next fall Jack would be going to preschool. There was a nice place in Milton you and Harry found that you’d enroll him in once spring rolls around.

At the end of your work day, you go to pick the kids up from daycare. Jack was coloring with Ryan, like always. You were happy to see they had stayed such good friends. You told yourself you’d do your best to keep them in contact next year since they’d be going to different preschools.

“Mumma!” Jack exclaims.

“Get your backpack, sweetie, we gotta grab your sister from the other room.” You bend down and kiss his forehead. He holds your hand as you walk over to the next room where the kept the babies. “Ah, there’s my sweet girl. How was she Anthony?���

“A doll, as usual. She giggled a bunch, and took a great nap.”

“That’s what I love to hear. Hi, angel.” You cuddle her to your chest. She was very excited to see you. “Let’s get you both in the car, come on.”

Jack is patient as usual while he waits for you to get Jessica situated in her car seat. You pick him up to put him in his. You furrow your brows at your backseat.

“How the hell am I supposed to do this with three?” You ask yourself. “I’d need to get a car with another row of seats.” You sigh and get into the front seat.

“Three what, Mumma?”

“Oh, nothing, baby doll. Mummy’s just talking to herself.” You laugh.

You and Harry hadn’t really talked about another kid in a while. Things in the house had finally gotten into a decent routine. You were almost scared to bring it up.

“Jack?”

“Yes, Mumma?”

“Do you like having a little sister so far?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I just don’t like when she gets loud.”

“Like when she cries for a long time?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t like it either.” You chuckle. “Her bottom teeth are coming in, that’s why she’s been crying a little more than usual. It can be a little uncomfortable on her gums.”

“Did I do that when I was baby?”

“Mhm, we used to freeze carrots for you to gnaw on.” You shake your head at yourself. “Sometimes we’d throw a wet rag in the freezer too, anything to soothe you, honey. You used to bite on Daddy’s fingers too.”

“I did?!”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “It was cute. Jessica hasn’t seemed to want to do that. The teething rings work just fine.”

“I like her.” He looks at his sister and smiles.

“Me too…would you ever want another?”

“Sister?”

“Or a brother…I don’t really get to decide…”

“I want her to get big so we can play.”

“I want the complete opposite. I want you small forever.”

“But I’m a big boy, Mumma.”

“Yes.” You sigh. “A very big boy. Dr. Philips thinks you’re going to be very tall, and your sister may end up a shrimp like me.”

“Daddy’s tall.”

“Daddy’s very tall.” You smile.

You liked your chats with Jack on the way home from work. You’ll miss them a lot once he’s in preschool, but you didn’t need to think about that just yet. You hit a little bit of traffic on the way home. You’re grateful when you pull into the garage. You get Jessica into your arms and Jack out of his car seat.

“Hang your backpack up please when you get up into the kitchen, and then wash up for snacky.” You tell him. “I gotta feed this one too. Are you hungry, darling?” Jessica makes a noise and you nod.

You get jack some cut up grapes and then get Jessica a bubby. Once she’s burped you set her down in her bouncy so you can go use the bathroom.

“Wanna see what I colored today, Mumma?”

“Of course I do!” You plop on the floor with him in the living room so he can show you his many drawings. “Is this our family, honey?”

“Mhm.” He beams. “There’s Daddy, you, me, Jessica, and Buster.”

“Are you riding Buster?”

“Yeah.” He giggles.

“We have to put this on the fridge for Daddy to see. He’s going to love it.” You get up and find a magnet and some space to put the picture up.

A little while later just as you’re preparing dinner while also going over ABC’s with Jack, you hear the door slam downstairs. You sigh heavily, especially when you hear Harry stomping up the stairs.

“Daddy!” Jack exclaims. You also hear Jessica getting excited from her high-chair.

Harry doesn’t even come into the kitchen. He just grumbles and goes right into the bathroom to wash up. He comes into the kitchen when he’s done, and looks at you.

“Hi.” He grunts and opens the fridge to grab a beer.

“Our son is waiting.” You nod over to Jack.

“Hey, buddy.” Harry goes over and kisses the top of Jack’s head. He looks over at Jessica and can’t help but smile when he sees her smile. He gives her a kiss as well. “What’s for dinner?”

“Roasted veggies and rice. Should be done any minute. Are you alright?”

“M’fine.” You roll your eyes at him and turn around to look at the veggies through the glass in the oven. “Shouldn’t do that in front of him, not a great habit to pick up.”

“Neither is coming home angry, and immediately grabbing a beer out of the fridge.” You cross your arms and look at him.

“Touché.” He smirks. “I had a long day. Not something I can really discuss in front of little ears.”

“Later then?”

“Yes.”

You nod and get dinner plated up. Harry helps feed Jessica while you make sure Jack’s veggies aren’t too hot. He really liked when you roasted veggies, and you were thankful he didn’t just want hotdogs all the time.

“Mm, delicious, babe.” Harry says.

“Thank you.” You whistle for Buster. “Come eat, baby.” He barks and eats the food you put out for him.

After dinner you and Harry give Jack and Jessica a bath. You lull Jessica to sleep, but Jack is allowed to stay up in bed a little longer. You come into his room and see Harry reading with him.

“Time for bed.” You say. You kiss Jack on the forehead and so does Harry. “Night, angel.”

You both creep out of his room and go downstairs. You both sit on the couch.

“Alright, tell me what happened.”

“I have two interns this semester, remember?” You hum your response. “Well, I couldn’t find either of them for a hot second, so I go to the back to see if maybe one of them was in the bathroom and maybe the other was in the storage closet. No one was in the bathroom, so I go to check the storage closet, and I see it’s locked. I grab Mariah and ask her why it would be locked during the day, and she had no idea, so I grab my keys and I open the door to find the two of them pulling their clothes back on.”

“Stop!” You gasp. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Full on fuck fest in my storage closet. Even we haven’t fucked in there.” He scoffs. “So, I obviously had to let them both go, but that means they may not get college credit, which I sort of feel bad about…they might be able to get one or two credits since they completed half the semester. I have to come to your campus tomorrow to speak with a dean or something. And now I’m down two people right before the holidays. I’m gonna get super busy.” He sighs.

“What about a paid thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you could hire a couple of other college students and pay them hourly or something. It could just be a seasonal thing for the holidays. You’re getting new interns for the spring anyways, right?”

“True…it would only be for a couple of months I’d need to pay them. Do you know any responsible students looking for work?”

“Oh, sure, tons. I can send an email to the film club and see if any of those guys wanna make a quick buck.”

“I can’t believe I have to deal with this.” He groans.

“It’s kinda funny when you think about it.” You chuckle and he glares at you. “Oh, come on!”

“Little rabbits couldn’t keep it in their pants.”

“You remember being that age, Harry. Even in your twenties, you were like that.” You laugh.

“I wouldn’t have risked college credit like that.” He shakes his head. “Morons.”

“Did they at least feel bad?”

“They did, and they were really embarrassed. Isaac spoke to them mostly, I was too aggravated and Mariah had a client coming in.” He sighs. “I just can’t keep them on after something like that, you know?”

“No, it makes perfect sense to let them go. They need to know there are consequences to their actions. You’re doing the right thing, babe.”

“Thanks. Sorry I came home grumpy. Usually I can cool down on the train home, but everything was pissing me off, and then there was traffic from the train station back here.”

“I hit traffic on the way home too. I wonder if there was an accident or something.”

“Who the fuck knows, it’s Boston, there’s always traffic.”

“Poor thing.” You pout at him. “Come here, come lay with me.”

You lean back and rest your head on the arm of the couch, and Harry rests his head on your chest. You wrap your arms around him and rub his head and back.

“How was your day?” He mumbles.

“Good, my students are starting in on their projects. Some of them, uh, are taking bets on if or when I’ll get pregnant again.” You laugh nervously.

“Seems like an incentive thing to make bets about.” He looks up at you. “What if you weren’t able to have more?”

“I’m very honest with them, especially the students that have had me for years. They’re fine. I thought it was sweet. They like seeing pictures of our family and stuff.”

“They just like when you go on your little tangents.” He chuckles.

“What students wouldn’t?” You kiss his forehead. He props himself up to look at you. “What?”

“Your heart is, like, racing.”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Even after all this time you still make my heart flutter.”

“Y/N.” He sighs with a smile. “Are you trying to tell me something?” He thinks for a moment and then gasps. “Are you pregnant?”

“No! God, no…but…I’ve been thinking about maybe…what if it was time to try again?”

“I feel like we just got a routine together. Everything’s gonna change next year with Jack going to preschool. Our schedules are going to need to adjust a lot, and you wanna add a baby to the mix of that? You were pregnant during our five year anniversary so we couldn’t go anywhere. This April is gonna be our five year wedding anniversary, I was sorta hoping to take a vacation.”

“While I’m teaching? We’d have to go in March when I’m on spring break.”

“Plus, Jessica’s first birthday will be in April. We’re gonna be really busy. Jack’s still too little to help out.” He sighs. “I don’t know, the idea of it just really stresses me out.” He gets off you to sit up, and you sit up as well. “And you’ve been talking about how much you’ve loved the way you look lately, you wanna start changing all of that?”

“I told you before, I’d do it over and over.” You look down at your lap and twiddle your thumbs. “You…really don’t want another?”

“It’s not that I don’t, I just don’t think right now is a good time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be right now.”

“Y/N.” He puts his hand over yours and you look up at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Even if I was pregnant during our anniversary, we could still go somewhere. We could go away for a weekend or something. I’d still have fun.”

“Not if you were nauseous and sweaty. Been through it twice with you now, I know how you are.”

“I just feel like I’m playing beat the clock or something. Like, I’m thirty-two, so if we got pregnant soon, then I’d be thirty-three probably when the baby’s born, and then I think that would be enough. I feel like three is the magic number. How nice for Jessica to be so close in age with a sibling, and Jack could find little ways to help if he wanted.”

“We’d be giving up our guest room.”

“We do have my office down here that could be converted if we put a small pull out in there.”

“You want my mother to sleep on a pull out?!”

“No, she could have our bed. Plus, those bedrooms are large upstairs, Jessica could share with the baby. We have one of each, so either way two could share as they got older. I’m…a little shocked you’re not jumping at the chance.”

“I just think we need to be realistic. That’s a third college fund we’d need to invest in.”

“The timing’s never going to be good, Harry.” You cross your arms. “And so what if it’s a third college fund? Do you know how much money I’ll be making by the time the kids would even be old enough to go to college? I’m set to teach two courses online this January, you know that money goes right towards those accounts.”

“I just don’t understand why you want to throw off the balance we have right now. There’s four of us, we have one of each…why do we need another?”

“Harry.” Your bottom lip starts to quiver. “I just have so much love to give, and I wanna give it to another baby.”

“You’re already spread so thin! Jack still fights for your attention anytime you hold Jessica for longer than five minutes. Now you want him to compete with two?”

“Are you sure it’s not you who wants to compete for my attention?”

“Oh, please.” He scoffs.

“Besides, I thought you liked me when I’m pregnant.” You pout.

“I like you all the time, that’s not fair.” He cups your cheek. “As much as I love the idea of having a ton of sex to get you pregnant, I just…can I have some time to think about?”

“Okay.” You lean into his touch.

“I know that’s not the answer you wanted.”

“You’re not saying no, so I’ll take it for now.” You kiss his palm and stand up. You stretch a little, really putting yourself on display for him. “Think I’m gonna turn in.”

“Me too.” He yawns. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

You both do your nightly routines and get into bed. You roll over and Harry wraps himself around you. You wanted to have sex right now, but you didn’t want him to think it was just because you wanted to make a baby. You didn’t want him thinking that was the only reason you wanted him. Maybe once he falls asleep you could go take care of yourself in the bathroom or something. No, you didn’t want some piece of plastic to get you off, you wanted him. You roll over to face him and see he’s already asleep. Of course, just like a man to fall asleep so easily. He pulls you in closer to him, but you pry away, flipping onto your back.

“You’re restless.” He mumbles with his eyes closed.

“Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you mad at me?” He opens an eye to look at you.

“Of course not.” You look at him. “I’m just…in the mood.”

“Because of the baby talk?” He smirks.

“No…just…in general.” You roll back on your side to face him. You grab one of his hands and place it between your legs. He grunts when he feels how wet you are. “Just want you, babe.” You whimper as he presses his palm against you.

“I can see that.”

He slips two fingers inside you, and you grind against him. He keeps a slow pace, just enjoying the way you feel around him. His thumb presses circles into your clit. You press your forehead to his chest to try to muffle your moans. Your nails scratch at his shoulders, causing him to groan.

“Fuck it.” He retracts his fingers from you and pushes you to lay on your back. He drags his boxers off and throws them to the floor. He practically rips the t-shirt you were wearing off.

“What do you mean fuck it?” You giggle.

“I’m gonna pump you silly and get you pregnant. I’m fuckin’ done using condoms.”

“Harry…” You cup his cheeks. “An hour ago it didn’t really seem like you wanted-“

He crashes his mouth over yours, and practically rams his tongue in your mouth to shut you up. He had his reservations, but he had such a tough time telling you no or even denying you of something you really wanted. The thought of you being so willing to put your body through this again because you wanted to carry another one of his children drove him absolutely wild. You said you had all this love to give, and so did he. He wanted to turn into another little bundle with you.

He bites your bottom lip before sitting up to give you some air. You look up at him stunned. He had a dark, lustful look in his eyes. One of his hands travels up to grip your throat.

“Got me all riled up now, gonna let me take care of it?” He asks.

“Yes.”

He grins at you and loosens his grip on your neck.

“Will you go down on me?”

“No.”

“What?!”

“Do you wanna know why we had so much trouble with the first two? I kept eating you out like every time we tried, and apparently saliva can, like, kill sperm. So, unfortunately, I can’t put my tongue on you.” He starts kissing on your neck and down your chest. “Well, can’t put my tongue on your there, at least.” He swirls his tongue around one of your nipples.

“Harry don’t suck or bite, I’m still making milk…”

He rolls his eyes as he kisses between the valley of your breasts. He kisses on the area just above your nipple and bites down hard, causing you to gasp. His hand goes back between your legs to spread you apart. He lines himself up and rubs his tip around your folds and throbbing clit before pushing inside. You let out a relieved sigh. He grabs both of your legs and throws them over his shoulders. His fingers dig into your calves as he starts thrusting in and out of you. Your head rolls back into the pillows as one of your hands travels down to lightly rub your clit.

“Christ.” He grunts. “How are you still so beautiful?” Your eyes meet his and all you do is smile at him. “I mean really, it’s just not fair.”

He drops your legs and comes to you so you’re chest to chest. His mouth is on yours again and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your hands travel to his hair as he takes over rubbing your clit.

“Can’t wait to feel your come, Harry.” You groan.

He drops his head to the crook of your neck. He nearly lost it at your words, but he needed to make sure you got yours first, not that it was a race or anything. He wanted you to feel good all over, and for a little while longer. He rocks into you in a way that hits your g-spot, making you arch up into him.

“Like that, baby girl?”

“Fuck, yes, don’t stop.”

He feels you tighten around him and he knows you’re close. He rubs your clit faster, and that’s when you lose it. A cracked gasp leaves your lips. You twitch and writhe under him as he tries to hold you down. You kiss him as his pace picks back up. You can’t remember the last time you two weren’t interrupted or had to be quick, this was amazing.

“Harry.” You whimper. You weren’t making this easy for him at all. He couldn’t hang on much longer. You were too much when you were so needy like this. “Want you to come.”

“Want me to come, angel?” He whispers in your ear and it sends a shiver up your spine.

You smirk to yourself and grab his face so he’ll look at you.

“Come on, Daddy, put another baby in me.”

“Jesus, fucckkk.”

His come shoots inside you and paints all your walls. You moan out from being able to feel it after so long. He nearly collapses on top of you. He was exhausted. He slowly slips out of you and you clamp your legs together. He rolls onto his back and he looks at you.

“That was evil.” He breathes. You look at him and chuckle. “S’not funny.”

“Yes it is. I call you Daddy all the time.”

“Yeah, in front of the kids. Little bit different in the bedroom.”

“Got you to come didn’t it?” You boop his nose.

“Didn’t need that much help, love, I was about ready to explode either way.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek. “So beautiful.” He gets up from the bed to go clean himself up, and after waiting a few minutes you do the same.

“So…you’re really into having another baby? It’s not just me wanting one?” You ask as you both face each other and cuddle up to one another.

“I want it. I was just being silly earlier.”

“No, your feelings were completely valid, honey. Sometimes I need a reality check.”

“I think…three will be enough though. I think anything more would be a lot for us, but a family of five sounds nice.”

“Technically six, can’t forget about Buster.” You chuckle.

“Right, can’t forget about our oldest.” He smiles. “Do you agree though? Three’s enough?”

“Yeah, three’s plenty.”

“As long as we’re on the same page about that, I’m good with doing it all over again.” He kisses your forehead.

“And then you can get a vasectomy.”

“Y/N.” He groans. “I don’t wanna shoot blanks.”

“But then we’d literally never have to worry.”

“Sometimes they don’t take.”

“So you’d rather me go through some kind of invasive procedure when you could just easily get a little snip?”

“Why are we talking about this now?”

“Because it’s something we’ll need to be on the same page about, Harry. I don’t wanna get an IUD or get my tubes tied. I shouldn’t have to when there’s an even easier, low risk procedure out there.” You rub your thumb over his cheek. “Just think it over, okay?”

“Okay.” He kisses your nose. “Let’s get you pregnant first, though.”

“Agreed.” You yawn and wrap yourself tighter around him. He pulls you in nice and close. Times like this it felt like before you were even ever married with kids when you’d just hold each other like this. “I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you too.” He whispers back.

//

Saturdays were for raking leaves. Jack loved being able to help Harry outside a little more now that he was a tad older. You were inside with Jessica making grilled cheese and tomato soup for everyone. She enjoyed watching you cook. Once in a while she’d whine because of her teeth.

“Need a new ring, darling girl?”

You go into the freezer for a teething ring and hand it to her. She happily puts it into her mouth to suck on. You smile at her and kiss the top of her head. You were happy she didn’t fuss when she was in her highchair. You go over to the sliding door and you love what you see. Harry tackling Jack down into one of the larger pile of leaves and them both hysterically laughing. If your ovaries weren’t ready to explode already, there sure as hell would be now. You slide the door open and step out.

“I hate to ruin the fun boys, but lunch is ready!”

“Grilled cheese!” Jack shoots up and runs towards you.

“Wash your hands please.”

He groans, but does as you say. Harry comes strolling up to you.

“You as well, Daddy.” You grin.

“Sure thing, Mummy.” He pinches your bottom and goes down the hall to wash his hands with Jack.

You cut up Jack’s sandwich for him in to long quarters. He looks at it funny.

“Why’s it like this, Mumma?”

“So you can dunk it into the soup if you want.” You blow on his cup of soup for him. “Should be cool enough.”

“Hey, do that to mine.” Harry smirks.

“Blow it yourself.” You shake your head at him. “It tastes good, Jack, see?” You dunk your own piece of sandwich into the soup. “Mm, so yummy.”

Jack watches Harry do the same, and that was enough for him. He dunks his sandwich into the soup and takes a chomp out of it. His eyes grow wide and he smiles which makes you and Harry laugh.

“Mm, that’s good, Mumma.”

“Knew you’d like it.” You smile and look at Harry. “Got much left to do out there?”

“Just need to bag it all up and drag the bags out front.”

“Do you need my help for that?”

“Nah, I should be able to manage.” He shrugs. “But thanks.”

“Mumma, Daddy said we have enough twigs for a fire later.”

“Oh, did he?” You tap your chin. “Hmm, I guess that means I’ll have to go to the store and get some marshmallows.”

“Yes!”

“You can take him while I finish the yard if you want.”

“Sure, that’ll work out well. Jessica can nap while I drive around.”

“They both can.”

“No naps.” Jack pouts.

“If you don’t nap then we can’t have a fire.” Harry says firmly. Usually you didn’t like when he would get so stern with Jack, but right now it was working for you.

“Daddy’s right, Jack. We can’t have a fire if you don’t nap.”

“Fine.” He huffs and finishes up his lunch.

Harry helps you get the two of them in the car and kisses you goodbye before getting back to work in the yard. You had Jessica strapped to your chest and Jack in the little seat in the shopping cart. You kept wondering how you might do this with three kids, but by the time a third would be born, Jack and Jessica could both sit in the shopping cart.

“Can we have s’mores, Mumma?”

“Sure, we could do that, honey.” You smile.

You walk around the store and grab all the items. Jessica was absolutely passed out, and Jack’s eyes were getting droopy. You needed to get them both back in the car stat. You just needed to grab the graham crackers.

“Shit.” You say to yourself. You couldn’t really reach the brand that Harry liked. You probably could’ve just lifted Jack up to grab them, but a man standing near you saw your dilemma.

“Need some help?”

“That would be great, thanks.” You smile as he grabs the box and hands it to you.

“Cute kids.” He smiles.

“Oh, thanks. They’re fading fast.”

“I didn’t even know they made gluten free graham crackers.”

“Yeah, my husband prefers them. They actually taste pretty good.”

The man nods as you start to walk away. You get in line and notice that he gets in line behind you. You smile at him again and he returns it. You feel his eyes burn into you as you put everything up on the belt. You were starting to feel uneasy, but you weren’t sure why. You pay for your things, and hang back a moment. You pretend to check the receipt as the man walks by you and out of the store. You notice that he doesn’t walk out to a car. He was just standing near the door. You take a deep breath. It could easily be nothing, maybe he was waiting for a ride, but you were starting to freak yourself out.

“Mumma?” Jack says sleepily.

“I just need to…” You look around. “I need to call Daddy.” You take your phone out and call Harry.

“Love? Everything alright?”

“No…this guy at the store is giving me the creeps, and I’m afraid to walk out to the car.”

“Gimme ten minutes, I’ll take an uber so I can just drive you home.”

“I’m sorry, I just-“

“It’s okay. Ten minutes, honey.”

You couldn’t believe that the man was still there, standing outside. He was definitely waiting for you. You see Harry’s uber pull up and you feel a wave of relief. Harry looked very rugged today. His scruff was due for a shave, he had his bandanna on to keep his hair back, his work boots, loose jeans, and a sweater.

“Hey.” He smiles when he comes in. “Is it the guy that’s right out there?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, gimme the keys.”

“Hi, Daddy.” Jack yawns.

“Hi, buddy.”

Harry takes your keys and grabs the couple of bags out of the cart, and also lifts Jacks out. He keeps him on his hip while he walks out with you. You don’t look at the man as you walk by, and out to the car. You get the kids in their car seats, and Harry drives you home. You were shaking slightly.

“He had to have been waiting for me.” You whisper. “I can’t even go to the grocery store now?”

“You have your pepper spray in your bag, right?”

“Yes.”

“And I showed you how to stab someone with the keys if need be.”

“It’s different when the kids are with me. If I was alone…I don’t know I probably would’ve been fine, but if something happened to me…”

“Don’t think like that.” He puts his hand on your thigh and gives it a squeeze. “What happened, did he interact with you?”

“He helped me grab the graham crackers off that top shelf. You know I can never reach those. I even mentioned I had a husband. Then he ended up in line behind me. I stayed back to see if he was planning to follow me, and he just stood there.” You shake your head and put your hand over his. “Don’t know what I would do without you.”

//

You and Harry got Jack and Jessica inside for a proper afternoon nap, and the two of you cuddled on the couch for a bit yourselves. You had calmed down from the little scare. You thought to maybe call the store tomorrow to have them check their tapes to see if that man had come in and done anything weird like that before.

“Should we invite Sarah and Niall for the fire tonight?” Harry asks, stretching out to sit up.

“Sure! I’ll text them now.” You take your phone out and text in the group chat you have to let them know they’re welcome to come by. “Probably gonna be one of the last ones. It’s starting to get too cold at night.”

“Can’t wait for Thanksgiving break. Love when we get to be home together for a few days.”

“I know, only a few weeks away now.”

“I’ve lined up a couple of interviews with those students you sent my way. I’m gonna see ‘em Monday. Hopefully they’ll refrain from fucking in the storage closet.” He rolls his eyes.

“How was your chat with the dean?”

“Fine.” He shrugs. “I tried to come see you, but I think you were teaching, and I didn’t wanna disturb you.”

“Since when do you not wanna disturb one of my lectures?” You laugh.

“Well, it’s one thing if it’s at the end of class. Those kids are paying for a proper education, you know?” He smirks.

“How considerate of you.” You crawl into his lap and straddle him. “You know…those two should be asleep for a little while longer.” You lean down to his ear as he wraps his arms around you. “When was the last time we fucked on this couch?” Your words send a shiver up his spine.

“What if he comes trotting down the stairs?”

“Buster will distract him. You know how he loves to pet and play with Buster when he first wakes up.”

“True.” His hand slide into the back of your jeans so he can grip your ass. You roll your hips down on his. “Just gotta be quiet though.”

You nod your head in understanding. You stand up briefly to take your pants and underwear off. Harry undoes his belt and zipper to take his dick out. You grab the blanket and wrap it around your back so you weren’t totally exposed, just in case. You get back on his lap. He rubs your slit to make sure you’re wet as you pump his dick.  

Once you’re both ready you slide down on him. You both grunt and moan. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck. He moves you up and down on him and you whimper into him. You bite down on his soft skin and it makes him thrust up into you harder. You grip at his shoulders and make fists with the material of his sweater.

“Oh, god.” You moan and move your face too look at him. You slot your mouth over his as he continues with his movements. You rock against him to give your clit some much needed friction. “Harry.” You gasp. “Shit, oh my god.” He had you panting already, and with another sharp thrust up he had you coming around him. Your lips find his again to help capture the noises you were making.

It didn’t take him long to come after that. He lays you down puts a pillow under your knees to prop your legs up a bit. He covers your lower half with the blanket.

“Gonna have to wash that.” He chuckles and kisses your forehead. He sees your phone light up and looks at it. “Sarah and Niall are in for the fire.”

“Oh, great! This’ll be fun.”

“Daddy!” You both hear Jack call from his room.

“He must need to shit.” Harry chuckles and you swat at him. “What? You don’t think it’s funny that he only wants my help with that?”

“He gets embarrassed when I help him, and I feel terrible about it.”

“He’s just too polite to shit in front of his mum, it’s cute.”

Harry goes up the stairs to Jack’s room. He was doing a dance like he really need to use the bathroom. He had been using the actual toilet more and more, but he had a tough time going number two alone. You eventually get up and get yourself situated. You go up to check on Jessica who was making babbling noises in her crib.

“Oh, someone’s awake.” You coo. She smiles up at you. “Hi, angel. Mummy change you now.”

You lift her out of the crib and set her on the changing table. You get her all fresh and cozy in a change of clothes and carry her out of the room. You take her to the living room and sit on the floor with her. You watch as she slowly gets herself to her feet.

“Good job, Jessica! Now, walk to Mumma.” You hold your arms out for her to balance on. Harry comes down with Jack and Buster. “Come on, you can do it.” She takes little steps. She wobbles a bit, but she makes it and you scoop her up in a hug and tons of kisses.

“Hey.” Jack pouts and runs over to you.

“Oof!” He nearly knocks you down.

“Jack, that’s too rough.” Harry says and gets on the floor with everyone. He takes Jessica from you and snuggles her close. “Hi, darling girl, did you have a nice nappy?” He boops her nose and she giggles.

“Jack, why do you get so jealous?” You laugh.

“I walk all the time, and you don’t give me kisses.” He pouts.

“Oh…well, I did when you were her age. I’m sorry.” You hold him close to you and give him tons of kisses. “All better?”

“Much.” He smiles.

//

“Everyone have enough blankets?” You ask the group as everyone’s sat around the fire.

“Think we’re good, Y/N.” Niall says and pulls Jack into his lap. “Now, let’s get this marshmallow roasted.”

You had the baby monitor on your hip so you’d be able to hear if Jessica needed anything while you were all outside. You snuggle up with Harry and he hands you a s’more.

“Thank you.” You kiss him on the cheek.

“Uncle Niall?” Jack asks.

“Yes?”

“How come you and Auntie Sarah don’t have a baby?”

“Jack.” You say. “Not an okay question to ask.”

“Why?”

“It’s personal.” Harry says. “Not all adults have babies.”

“It’s okay.” Sarah says and takes Jack into her lap. “Jack, I work with lots of little kids all day long. I have so many kids that I love and that I care about. So, Uncle Niall and I didn’t really feel the need to have one of our own. Besides, we like just being an Auntie and an Uncle. We get to give all our love to you and Jessica.”

“I thought all married people had babies.”

“Not the case, bud.” Niall says.

“How come Mumma and Daddy had us, then?”

“Because your Daddy likes getting your mum pr-“

“Niall!” Sarah swats an arm at him and he starts laughing.

“Jack, come here.” You chuckle and he walks around over to you with a gooey marshmallow in his mouth. “What’s with all the questions, hm? People like to express their love for each other in different ways. Daddy and I wanted to turn our love into babies, and Sarah and Niall wanted to turn their love into, uh…” You look at them for help.

“Vacations.” Niall says. “We get to travel and see the world, and show everyone around us how much we love each other.” He grabs her hand and kisses it.

“And, we give back to others in need, Jack. Niall and I use the money that we’d spend on babies to donate to different causes. That’s another way we show our love.”

“See, honey, there’s lots of different ways to show love out there.” Harry says. “But I do like getting your mum pregnant.” He grins.

“Okay!” You stand up with Jack. “I’m taking him to bed because you two are idiots.” You shake your head and carry him inside. The three of them laugh.

“Sorry ‘bout that, hope he didn’t make you uncomfortable. It’s sorta rude to ask someone why they don’t have kids.”

“It’s okay.” Sarah shrugs. “Unfortunately we’re used to it. I can’t tell you how many of the parents, even some of the other teachers at school have told me that I’d change my mind.” She scoffs. “I don’t have those motherly instincts. I can babysit no problem, but doing it 24/7? No thanks. I’ll leave it to you guys.”

“I truthfully don’t mind just being an uncle either. I like that we can pick and go as we please, and just do things spontaneously without having to worry. I feel completely fulfilled.” Niall says.

“Me too.” She kisses his hand. You come back out shortly and pinch Harry’s arm as you sit down.

“Ow! What the fuck?” He rubs his arm before throwing it around you.

“He kept asking me why Daddy likes getting me pregnant, you fucking moron.” You take a sip of your drink. “I’m lucky he was tired. Thank god Buster likes cuddling with him or he’d never sleep.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “Guess I shouldn’t have been goofing like that.”

“Y/N, has Harry told you about our little plan for spring?” Niall says.

“No, what’s that?”

“We were thinking of becoming soccer coaches, getting Jack started on a team and all that.” Harry explains. “Lots of kids in this neighborhood, could be fun to start a league for the really little kids.”

“Yeah, get some skills early on.”

“But Harry…you’re not very good at soccer.”

“True, but Niall is. Gotta have a kid on the team to be a coach, so he could be my assistant coach, but do all of the actual coaching, while I would bring the snacks and make up the rosters.”

“Does Jack want to play soccer?” Sarah asks. “He really likes to draw.”

“Yeah, he’s told me a couple times, especially when we play in the backyard. He likes kicking the ball around.”

“Then I think it’s a great idea. You could pick him up from daycare and take him to whatever field the practices would be at. It would be fun to see him play on the weekends too. He’d look so cute in his little uniform.” You pout.

“It’s settled then, we’re puttin’ a soccer team together.” Niall smiles and looks at Sarah. “And you can be the cheerleader.”

“Oh, please.” She scoffs. “Y/N and I will be off to the side sipping wine in inconspicuous bottles.”

“I like the sound of that.” You giggle.

//

You were in the middle of one of your lectures when there was a knock on the door. You go to open and it see it’s one of the workers from the daycare.

“Hi, Dr. Y/L/N, sorry to disrupt your class, but you may want to come get Jack. He’s not feeling well.”

“Oh no! Has he thrown?”

“No, but he says his stomach definitely hurts, and we took his temp. He has a little fever.”

“Alright, um…shit, I have two more classes today. Let me call my husband and see if he can grab him quick.”

“We’ll need him to take Jessica too, she could also easily be sick.”

“Okay.” You go back into the classroom and grab your phone. “Kids are sick, talk amongst yourselves for a moment.” You tell them and step back out to call Harry. “Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“Jack’s not feeling well, can you pick them up from daycare? I’d just take them home, but I have two more classes today.”

“Uhh…oi! Isaac!” You take the phone from your ear at how loud he yelled. “Yeah, I can step out for a bit to get them.”

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.” You hang up. “Harry will be there soon to grab them.”

“Awesome, thanks! Sorry again for disrupting.”

“No, I’m glad you came to tell me. Thank you.”

You go back into class and get on with your lecture.

Harry gets to the daycare. He frowns when he sees how pale Jack is. He scoops up Jessica and gets them both into his car.

“Don’t feel good, Daddy.”

“I know, buddy. We’re almost home.”

Luckily Jack didn’t puke in the car, but Harry was nervous he might so he sets him up on the couch with him so he could properly watch him. He puts Jessica in her bouncy. She didn’t have a fever, but he knew that could easily change. Harry gets his laptop once Jack is settled and comfortable, and answers some emails. He felt terrible for leaving, but it was nearly the end of the day anyways.

You get home around four, a little later than usual, but you had a ton of students come during your office hours. You run right upstairs to the living room. Harry was stretched out on the couch. Jack and Jessica both laying on his chest. Both curled up and comfortable on their Daddy.

“Hi.” You whisper.

“Hi.” He smiles. “He puked a couple of times. Think he has a little bug.”

“Oh no.” You frown and sit on the edge of the couch to stroke Jack’s back.

“Gave him some children’s Tylenol. She’s been fine, but she could easily get sick too.”

“I’m gonna go change his sheets. How’s Buster?”

“Been an angel f’me all afternoon. Love being able to just let him outside when I can’t really walk him.”

“Okay, let me take care of his bed and then I’ll get us all fed.” You kiss Harry’s forehead. You start to walk towards the stairs, and then you turn around and look at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You smile.

“I know that look, and you’re nuts if you think there’s gonna be any baby making tonight.”

“The thought never occurred to me.” You scoff. “You just look so cute with them.” You pout. “It’s hard not to want a dozen little babies.”

“Go change his fuckin’ sheets, will you?” He chuckles.

You get Jack’s bed settled, and come back down to feed Buster. You decide that vegetable soup would be a good idea, so you get to chopping and throw everything into a pot with some broth and let it cook. You come back over to Harry and smell Jessica’s bum.

“Oof, she stinks.” You laugh and take her from him.

“I was afraid of waking him up.” Harry sits up slightly and keeps Jack curled up in his arms. “Poor kid. Cried after he puked. I think it made his stomach feel worse.”

You take Jessica upstairs to change her and put her pj’s on, and then bring her back down to get her to walk a little. She balances on your forearms as she takes her little steps.

“She’ll be doing it on her own in no time.” Harry says.

“Eight months, she’s growing so fast.” You sigh. “I love the little curls that are coming in on her head. Gonna have another mop like with him.”

“Must have strong genes.” Harry chuckles. Jack groans, but Harry rubs his back to soothe him.

“I’ll be able to stay home with them tomorrow since I don’t teach. I can just work from home.”

“Are you sure? I could probably stay home.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll take care of them.”

“Mumma?” Jack adjusts in Harry’s arms and opens his eyes slowly.

“Hi, honey. Having a nice snuggle with Daddy?”

“Mhm. Don’t feel good.”

“I know.” You pick Jessica up and carry her to the highchair. Harry carries Jack into the kitchen. “Wanna try eating some soup?”

“No.” He pouts.

“How about some toast?”

“No.” Tears nearly form in his eyes.

“I think he’s afraid of spewing again.”

“He needs to eat something. You know what they say, starve a cold, feed a fever.”

“Toast is probably better, but I’ll have soup.” Harry says.

You nod and fill up two bowls. You give Jessica a bubby for dinner while Harry gets Jack to have some toast. After you clean up, you bring them both upstairs for bed. Buster snuggles up with Jack.

“Baby, we’re leaving this bucket here, if you don’t feel good you can just use that, okay?”

“Wanna sleep with you.” He whines.

“Daddy and I aren’t going to sleep yet. I put nice new sheets on your bed a little while ago, isn’t it cozy?”

“Got her down.” Harry says, coming in. “Buster will make you feel better, buddy. You like sleepin’ with him.”

“Wanna sleep with you.” He pouts.

“Jack, just try to sleep in here, and if you really can’t then you can come in with us, okay?” Harry says. You both kiss him goodnight and leave his room.

“I need a shower, gotta make sure we both don’t get sick too.”

“Oh, good idea. I’ll bring the baby monitor into the bathroom.” You say.

“You’re joining?”

“Why would we shower separately?” You scoff and go down the hall to your bedroom.

You hadn’t wanted Harry this much in a long time, or that’s at least how he felt. It sort of annoyed him that you had basically been fucking a lot just because you wanted a baby. He walks into the bedroom and starts taking his clothes off.

“Actually, I’d like to just have time to myself if that’s alright. They were on me all afternoon.”

“Oh…okay.”

He turns to go into the bathroom, only wearing his boxers. He sighs and turns around to look at you.

“Are we only fucking so much because you just want to get pregnant?”

“What?”

“It would just be nice to feel wanted because you want me, and not because you know I can give you another baby.”

“Oh my goodness, Harry.” You stand up and wrap your arms around him. “Have I been making you feel that way?”

“Yes.” He mumbles.

“I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what it’s been lately, I feel like my sex drive has just really come back in full swing. I mean, I want this baby, but I also just…want you. We’ve been getting interrupted less. I feel like we both have been able to figure out the good times of day to be intimate. I do just want you because I want you. I’m sorry if you’ve been feeling…used.”

“So…you really just wanted to take a shower with me?”

“I thought it would be some nice alone time, but if you want some time to yourself, that’s fine too.”

“No, let’s go in together. I want to now.” You smile and kiss each other before going into the bathroom.

You take your clothes off as Harry gets the water going. You both step in and sigh once the warm water hits your skin. You take turns washing each other, and then he pulls you close to him to kiss you. He backs you up to the wall and pushes you against it. His tongue felt so good against yours and you loved the way his hands were gripping your cheeks. He reaches between your legs to finger you.

“Jesus.” He groans. “So fucking we-“ He looks down as he pulls his fingers out. “Um…love?” He holds his fingers up and you frown when you see the all too familiar reddish color.

“Sorry.” You slip away from him to finish rinsing off.

“Babe, we can still…”

You turn to look at him with tears in your eyes. He pulls you in close and lets you cry into him. This was always the worst part of trying. He kisses your cheek and you look up at him.

“Sorry, um, I can just suck you off or-“

“If you’re not in the mood now, it’s okay.”

“No, we just talked about this not being about making a baby, so-“

“You’re getting upset. You got period, and that sucks, but maybe next month you won’t. We only just started trying again, Y/N. It’s gonna take some time.”

“Right.” You nod. “We should get out in case Jack needs something.”

Harry nods and turns the water off. You get yourself situated and dressed and crawl into bed with Harry. As if on cue, Jack comes walking in with his thumb in his mouth, and his blanky in his other arm. Buster follows as well and plops on the floor.

“C’mere, darling.” You say to Jack. He crawls up on the bed and gets between you and Harry. You put your arm around him and hold him close to you. “Poor thing, Mumma’s gonna stay home with you tomorrow and we can snuggle all day if you want.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, anything you want.” You kiss the top of his head as he closes his eyes. Harry was on his side looking up at you. “What?”

“I get it now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why you always get so…in the mood when you see me with them. You’re such a good mum, makes me wanna make more too.” He smiles.

“And you’re the best dad.” He leans up to kiss you goodnight, and then he turns the light off.

//

It took Jack a few days to feel better, but once he did he was back to his old self. Jessica caught a small fever herself, but she was fine. You were just happy that neither you nor Harry got sick. The second your period ended, it was on.

Jack and Jessica would be having a cousins sleepover at Erica’s after Thanksgiving dinner, and you may or may not have been excited to have the house all to yourselves for the night.

“Do you think Michael will have fun with so many little ones?” Harry asks on the drive home.

“Oh, sure. He likes being the big cousin. I still can’t believe Erica even offered it up.”

“Her and Mike can handle it. I think she was excited to snuggle up with Jessica.”

“I feel terrible she couldn’t have more…she always says I keep having them for her.” You laugh. “My Nannie used to say the same thing to my mom.”

“Speaking of Nannie…I was thinking for your spring break we could take a little family trip and go see her.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah. She’s only seen Jessica once, it would be nice for her to spend some time with them. Plus, she always comes here. Florida’s beautiful in March.”

“You don’t need to convince me. We can start looking at flights soon. The kids are gonna be so well traveled when they get older. Once they get a lot older when we take them to the U.K. we could start taking them to some other countries.”

“That would be fun. It’s so easy to just take day trips and what not. They’ll be nice and well-rounded.”

“But I don’t want them to be spoiled. Gotta keep them humble.”

“Gem’ll keep them knocked down a peg, she’s really good at that.” He chuckles.

You both get into the house and kick your shoes off. Harry scoops you up and carries you up to the bedroom. Once he sets you down, you’re being pressed up against the wall harshly.

“You’re not too full or tired?” You ask between kisses.

“Nope, are you?”

“Nope.” You grin.

His lips find yours as you wrap your arms around his neck. You tug at the curls on the nape of his neck. This was very exciting. You could be as loud as you wanted, hell, you could leave the door open if you really felt like it. His hands were all over you, groping you wherever he felt like it. He fiddles with the zipper on the back of your dress, but finally gets it unzipped.

“Want you.” He mumbles into your neck as he sucks on your skin. You giggle on him.

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Don’t be cute.”

Your dress falls to the floor. You help him get his clothes off too. You’re just in your underwear as he hoists you up, bringing you over to the bed. He didn’t want his lips to leave you at all. He nipped where he felt like it, leaving behind little marks. He gets your bra and underwear off, and soon his fingers are rubbing around your folds.

“You obviously want me too.” He smirks, holding up his now slick and sticky fingers. He sucks them into his mouth before pressing them inside you.

You groan as you feel him curl them up. His thumb rubs circles into your clit as he pumps in and out of you. He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth but you tug his head up.

“I’m still making milk!”

“So?! S’not like I’m fucking sucking on it to grab a quick drink. You pumped before we left, you should be good.”

“It’s just weird…some could come out.”

“You really think I of all people give a fuck?” It was true, Harry didn’t care about anything of the things you thought would be gross for a guy, like hair and periods. 

“Fine, but if you taste anything you have to come off.”

“Deal.”

He goes back to sucking on you, more so just swirling his tongue around your pebbled nipple. He kneads the other one with his free hand has he continues to finger you. You tug at the blankets as your body begins to feel hot all over.

“Oh my god.” You moan. “Harry.”

“Gonna come?”

“Yes, fuck, oh shit!”

He works you through it until you can’t take it anymore. It felt so good to just let your little cry out instead of having to bite it back. He retracts his fingers and sucks on them again.

“Look at you.” He strokes your face. “So flushed.” He smiles. “Was that a good one?”

“Very good.” You giggle.

“So beautiful, my sweet angel.” He leans in to kiss you. “My amazing wife.” He kisses you again. “Love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

He adjusts himself so his tip his playing with your clit. You grit your teeth as he pushes inside you. Your nails scratch down his back, causing goosebumps to raise on his skin. He rocks in and out of you as his tongue finds yours. He just couldn’t get enough of your mouth tonight.

“Have you been, ngh, using a new lip balm or something?” He asks as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. “So soft.” He leans in and bites down on your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before letting it go.

“I exfoliated them with, shit, this, ugh Harry, I’ll tell you later.”

He chuckles as his thrusts quicken. You wrap your legs around him to pull him closer. His hands find yours and he pins them to the sides of your head, fingers intertwined.

“You feel so fucking good, babe.” He grunts.

Your heart’s racing as his tip starts to brush against your g-spot. Your head rolls back into the pillows, and he kisses on the now exposed part of your neck.

“Harry.” You moan.

“Say it louder.” He says into your ear.

“Harry!”

“Again.”

“Harry! Oh fuck!”

You come undone just as he’s coming inside you. You felt like you were swimming. You raise your hips to meet his over and over to really ride it out. He pulls out of you slowly and rests beside you. He pulls you close and kisses your hairline. It was quick, but so good. You imagine it wouldn’t be the only time you’d be making love tonight, and you were right. He was inside you again before you knew it.

//

Jack was finally old enough to understand Hanukkah a little more, and it was the cutest thing in the world. You had a menorah on the kitchen table, and a very small tree in the living room. Your home was decorated with snow men, and other winter scene things.

“Look at this little kippah Nannie sent him. His name is on the inside, so cute.” You show Harry as you get some gifts together.

“He’ll love it.”

“He’ll probably ask why Daddy doesn’t wear one.” You giggle.

“I’ve worn one at more of the formal events.” He defends himself.

“Very true.”

“Mumma! Is it time to light the candles?!”

“Look outside and tell me if it’s sundown.” You chuckle and shake your head as he pouts at you. “Got about an hour, baby doll.”

“Will we get to do it at Grammy’s?”

“Of course we will.” Harry says as he picks his son up. “Grammy has lots of menorahs for us. Are you excited to go on the plane in a couple of days?”

“Yes.” He smiles. “I told Jessica it’s not scary.”

“Well, that was very nice of you.” You kiss Jack’s cheek as you go to pick your daughter up. She’d been crawling on the floor. “Come on, darling, you can stand up.”

“I wonder if she’ll babble a bunch on the plane. I always feel bad for the people around us.”

“Oh well.” You shrug. “Babies make noise.”

An hour or so later, everyone gathers around the menorah. Harry holds up Jack so he can watch you like the two candles and he mumbles along the prayer as you chant it. You were happy he thought it was so much fun.

“Can we have latkes?” He nearly whines.

“We’re going to make them at Grammy’s.” You tell him. “We can stink up her house.” You laugh.

//

You were incredibly nauseous on the plane. It was rare for you to not feel well with how often you travel this way. You tried to just keep your eyes closed, and focus on your music, but it was difficult with Jessica in your arms, and Jack complaining that he wanted to cuddle with you too.

“Let Mummy rest, Jack, you can sleep with me.” Harry says, lifting the armrest between them. “Come here.” He puts his arm around Jack and holds him close.

“Why does Jessica always get Mumma?” He pouts.

“She doesn’t, Mummy and I take turns with her just like we do with you. Mummy might have to feed her quick, so it’s easier for her to hold her right now. What’s wrong? Don’t wanna snuggle with Daddy?” Harry pouts at Jack and it makes him giggle.

“You’re silly, Daddy.”

“Course I am, Daddy’s are supposed to be silly.”

Harry catches you smiling with your eyes closed, and it makes him smile more. Jack settles into Harry, and then he slowly drifts off. You reach your free hand out for Harry’s, and you’re able to hold hands. Sometimes you missed when it was just the two of you so you could cuddle on these long flights, but you also loved what you had now.

Once you’ve landed, you had to rush to a bathroom. Harry was a bit frantic since Jessica would definitely need to be changed. He hated changing her in the men’s bathrooms because they often didn’t have changing tables. Normally you would take the kids in with you to get them in fresh clothes, but you were so nauseous. You get into a stall and throw up.

“Please, fuck, don’t tell me I have the flu.” You say to yourself as you wipe your mouth. You get up and go out to the sink to brush your teeth. You come back out and wait for Harry.

“Are you alright?” He asks as he hands Jessica over to you.

“Yeah, I just don’t feel one hundred percent.” You didn’t want to say you got sick so Jack wouldn’t be scared. “Jack, hold my hand, baby.”

Harry gets all the luggage, and you both make your way to your rental car, which was a minivan this time around. You get the car seats settled, and get the kids strapped in. Harry holds your hand as he drives to Anne’s.

“I’m sure mum has some pepto you can take. You were nauseous right?”

“Yeah, usually I’m fine, it’s so weird.” You shrug. “I can always go to the drug store if need be. I feel better now.”

Anne was delighted to see her grandbabies. Jack attacked her with hugs and kisses, and Jessica babbled on to her.

“She can sort of walk now, Mum, look.” Harry helps Jessica stand, and she toddles over to Anne’s legs.

“Oh my goodness, growing up so fast! Wait until Auntie Gem sees you! Come in, you must be tired.”

Anne had lunch ready to go for everyone like she usually did. You felt hungry now, but as soon as you sat down you felt nauseous again.  

“I’m so sorry, I think I need to lay down for a bit.”

Harry stands up but you put your hand on his shoulder.

“Stay here with everyone, I’m fine.” You smile and go upstairs. You lay down on the soft bed and fall asleep immediately. Why were you so tired? Later, you’re woken up to the sound of Gemma’s voice.

“Y/N?” She whispers.

“Hm?” You sit up. “Oh, hi Auntie.”

“Hi, Mummy.” She smiles and sits on the edge of the bed. “Harry said you weren’t feeling well.”

“I think I’m coming down with something.” You frown. “I spewed at the airport.”

“Interesting.” She smirks, and tosses you a pregnancy test. “Need to pee?”

“Did he tell you to get this?” You chuckle.

“No, but when he texted saying you didn’t feel great I figured…”

“I suppose it would make sense.” You think for a moment and look at the period tracker on your phone. “I haven’t gotten my December period yet.” You furrow your brows.

“When was the last time you two…”

“Um.” You blush. “Well…I mean…”

“Right, right.” She blushes as well. “Think you two are the only married couple with kids that actually make time for that.”

“I do need to pee…I feel bad, usually he wants to be in on it, but how cute would it be if I am, and then I give this to him on Christmas?”

“It would be very cute! Go on, take a wee.”

You go into the bathroom and take the test. The two of you sit in the bedroom until the three minutes is up. You gasp as tears form in your eyes.

“Congratulations.” She says, hugging you.

“Can you hide this in your room? I have a really fun idea for how to give it to him.”

“Of course!” She wipes some tears away. “This is amazing.”

Christmas was wonderful, and it wrapped up Hanukkah perfectly. Jack got to have his latkes. You couldn’t wait to give Harry his surprise. That evening as you were settling in for dessert and pj’s, you grab Jack before he sits with his new toys.

“Honey, I have one more gift for Daddy, could you give it to him for me please?”

“Yes, Mumma.” He beams, excited he’s been given a task. You hand him the small box Gemma had picked up for you, and watch as he goes over to Harry, who was sitting with a cup of tea on the couch while Gemma held Jessica. Anne was sitting on the floor setting up one of Jack’s toys. “Excuse me, Daddy.”

“My polite little boy.” Harry coos. “Yes?”

“This is from Mumma.” Jack hands Harry the small box. Harry looks over at you and you gesture to open it. “Hmm…” He shakes the box and hears some rattling. “What else could Mum have gotten me?” Harry genuinely had no idea what else you could have bought for him, but he was excited nonetheless. Gemma props her phone up to record his reaction. He opens the box and his mouth falls open. He looks at you immediately, who was biting back a smile and tears. “Are you serious?” His voice cracks as he smiles.

“Mhm.”

“Oh my goodness.” He chuckles and stands up to walk over to you. You wrap your arms around each other. “When did you find out?”

“Took it the other day. I have no idea how far along I am, could only be four weeks. I’ll go to the doctor when we get back later in January.”

He cups your cheeks and kisses you.

“Wait…” Anne snatches the box and sees the pregnancy test. “You’re?!”

“Yes.” You giggle. She stands up and gives you a hug.

“What’s going on?” Jack asks.

“Well.” You rub your lower tummy. “I got something growing in here.”

“Another baby?!”

“You bet.”

Jack rushes over to you and gives you a big hug.

“You’re excited?!”

“Yeah! Jessica needs someone to play with too. She’ll be a big sister, and I’ll be a big brother again.”

“He’s smart.” Harry laughs. “You’re the best brig brother there is.” He kisses you again. “Wow, a third baby.”

“And then you’re done, right?” Anne asks. “I love grandkids, but you two wanna be smart about this.”

“Once I know this one’s gonna stick, he’s getting snipped.” You say.

“Oi, I still haven’t agreed to that.”

“Harry.” His mother says. “You’ll do it, and not put up a fuss about it.”

Later that night, as the four of you settle into bed, yes the four of just slept in the same bed while at Anne’s, Harry was beaming at you. You had put Jack and Jessica on one side of the bed for a bit so you and Harry could cuddle.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You whisper.

“Can’t help it, you’re just so beautiful.” He puts his hand on your lower stomach. “Got another one in you, can’t believe it. Do you think it was Thanksgiving?”

“Could have been.” You giggle. “Does this mean you’ll go back to eating me out? Really been missing that.”

“Honey, I promise once Dr. Johnson really tells you you’re pregnant, I’ll go down on you for hours.”

“That sounds nice.”

He leans down to kiss you.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

[p1harmonyofficial]

[📰] Get to Know the Members of K-Pop Group P1Harmony With These 10 Fun Facts! (Exclusive)

P1Harmony is a rising global K-Pop troupe, but we wanted Just Jared readers to get an exclusive chance to know them a little better!

The talented six-member boy group first arrived on the scene back in October of 2020, embarking on their international music career with the release of their first mini album DISHARMONY: STAND OUT and feature film, P1H: A New World Begins, which positioned the group as a force to be reckoned with in the music scene.

Amid the pandemic, the group continued to make new music for their fans with the release of their second mini album, DISHARMONY: BREAK OUT, including their slamming, hip-hop infused title track “Scared,”” along with an accompanying music video full of street-style dancing and intense visual effects.

Watch “Scared” and check out these 10 Fun Facts about P1Harmony inside!

INTAK

1. I have more eyelashes on my right eye than my left. Right after my debut, I didn’t really know how to remove eye makeup, so for a while, I used to just rub my eyes really hard with soap and now, I have more eyelashes on my right eye than my left. 2. I used to love oysters, but now I cannot eat it. I was an oyster fanatic, until very recently. I ordered raw oysters after watching a TV show at night with JONGSEOB, and after one bite, I couldn’t eat it anymore. The taste of the “sea” was so pungent. Now, I’m too traumatized! 3. I saved a man’s life. I went chestnut picking with my dad, and found a guy hanging on a cliff and struggling to get back up. We immediately helped him get up. He was really grateful and I remember feeling so proud to have saved someone’s life! 4. I have a small horizontal scar on the right side of my face, and I kind of like it. I got this scar when I was about four or five, and although it’s not that visible now, sometimes I like it because it makes me feel like a charismatic, bad guy! 5. I love dogs. I love dogs, so I have been watching a lot of dog-related videos but I’m terribly allergic. I can’t stop myself from petting them when I see them on the street, and always regret it afterwards because I turn all puffy and itchy! 6. I fantasize a lot about time travel. I even tried and feel like it can really happen one day! I lie down in my bed, put my blanket over my entire body and focus really hard on the idea, but this brings me nowhere but to the future. [Laughs] 7. I have a gold tooth. 8. I have a brown spot (mole) on my middle finger. 9. I love my Crayon Shin-chan character earphones. I get happy just looking at it. 10. I go to the convenient store so much that there isn’t anything I have not tried!

THEO

1. My right shoulder is more developed than my left. I used to play volleyball and would strike with my right arm, so my right shoulder is more developed than my left. 2. I have a red mole. I recently got a red mole on the side of my right neck, but I have no idea where it came from and why but it’s not going away! 3. I can’t burp, literally. I don’t know how to burp and have never burped in my life 4. I only drink carbonated drinks. I rarely drink anything that is NOT carbonated. 5. I don’t like lettuce and tomatoes in my burgers. 6. I had a burst appendix and didn’t know it for a while. I was hospitalized for two months, because they couldn’t find my appendix. Apparently, my organs are shaped and structured differently. 7. I love slippers. Unless I am going to an official engagement or doing promos, I am always in slippers, (even during winter)! 8. I have never cried in front of people until I turned 20. I was watching a very emotional episode of “Animal Farm,” and got caught crying in front of KEEHO, SOUL and JIUNG. Since then, I think I’ve gotten more emotional. I once cried watching JONGSEOB cry, too. 9. I can’t stay still when I’m on the phone. I have to walk around or do something when I’m on the phone. 10. I love singing songs to my friends over the phone.

JIUNG

1. I love Tonkatsu (pork cutlet). I have been addicted to tonkatsu these days and have been eating it almost every day for the last few months. 2. I have the same birthday as my younger brother. My younger brother and I share the same birthday, which is Oct. 7. We were also born around the same time. 3. My younger brother and I have a similar birth time as well. I think he was born like 8 minutes before me or after! 4. I love raw garlic and don’t like kimchi. 5. I only drink flat coca-cola. I purposely decarbonate my coke by shaking it and letting the air out multiple times until the bottle doesn’t expand anymore and the coke is completely flat. 6. I still fit into my hats from my adolescent years. My head is so small that I still fit into all my hats from elementary school. 7. I think too much. I make daily memos and write down almost everything to organize my thoughts. 8. I like to dance and sing when the streets are empty. When no one is around and I’m in a good mood. I love walking down the empty street thinking I’m shooting a music video. I sing, dance and act. Last time, I bumped into someone and I ran away in full embarrassment! [Laughs]. 9. I have a scar on my eye. 10. I may look picky, but I’m not a picky eater! I love trying a lot of different cuisines.

KEEHO

1. I love collecting sunglasses and glasses although my eyesight is near perfect. I love wearing glasses even though I don’t need them to see. I also have been collecting a lot of sunglasses lately. 2. I talk during my sleep, apparently! According to my members, I sleep-talk a lot (almost every night), but I don’t remember any of it and I never have dreams. 3. I have the same birthday as my dad! 4. I can eat salads all day. I love salads! I love eating vegetables, especially celery and carrots, and prefer dressings like ranch and oriental. 5. I am not good at smiling. I have a hard time smiling so I’m still in the process of learning how to smile naturally! I have to make sounds out loud to smile [during photo shoots]. 6. I used to hate wearing sweatpants. I don’t know why but I hated sweatpants and never wore them when I was younger― even if I had to wear something more uncomfortable like slacks or jeans.. Now, I wear them all the time! 7. I rarely cry alone or in front of people. The only person who has seen me cry is INTAK. I was going through something heavy and was alone at a park by myself when INTAK came to pick me up. He started crying as soon as he saw me, and that made me cry. 8. I used to pull all my loose baby teeth. I hated having something loose in my mouth, so instead of waiting to go to the dentist, I used to pull them out on my own. 9. I have a light (barely noticeable) mole on my big toe. 10. I have curly hair, so unless I blow dry it, it goes wild.

SOUL

1. I used to collect beetles. I think I had up to 30 beetles in one big box. 2. I only wear Air Jordans. I only wear Jordans and my favorite design is the Air Jordan 1s. 3. I love dolls! I love buying and collecting dolls. I like anything that is cute and fuzzy. 4. I don’t like taking pictures of humans except KEEHO. I only take pictures of nature, architecture or like a beautiful scenery. The only time I would take a picture of a human is of KEEHO. 5. Me and my younger sister found an important historical stone artifact. We were just digging stuff up and found a stone artifact. We later learned it was a historically valuable artifact, so we donated it to a museum. 6. I wear my pants backwards. 7. I don’t like electric fans. I don’t like when wind blows in my face 8. I once had the same dream three times in a row. I had the same dream three times in a row, but every ending changed depending on the choices I made [in my dream]. 9. A bird pooped on my head while I was on my way to school. Without having much reaction, I just walked to school and waited until I had to go to the bathroom to wash. 10. I don’t get scared or surprised easily. I used to get yelled at for bowing down and saying hi to all the actors playing zombies, monsters or ghosts at haunted houses in theme parks.

JONGSEOB

1. I like books that are thick and with small letters for no particular reason. I tend to buy books that are thick, whatever the genre is. I think it’s because I’m a fast reader. 2. I never had cavities! I love eating sweets like jellies and candies. I can go through a whole pack in one sitting, but I’ve never had cavities! 3. I have something called a “knee hyperextension and/or back knee. My knee bends backwards in a straightened position unlike many people. 4 I love the dark. I usually don’t turn on the lights unless I really have to. 5. I could sleep for long periods of time. I once slept up to 16 straight hours, and I barely have dreams. Maybe like five times a year?! 6. I don’t like/eat seaweed or seagrass. 7. I love walking into a room that is super cold. I turn on the A/C and close the door for about 30 minutes so it can be ice cold before I walk in. 8. I want to learn how to play bass guitar one day! I watch random videos of jam sessions, and one day would really like to play bass guitar. 9. My eyesight is different on both eyes. I am near-sighted on one, and far-sighted on the other. 10. I am pretty good at playing games on my phone.

[chadsinclair]

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[modestfuckup]

Challenge Week- Get Beached 2020

Date Night

Teen Wolf | Sterek | 2806

Fat!Stiles, Super Chub!Derek, Date night at the local buffet, 

Stiles pulls their truck up to Howdy Hal’s Buffet. Hal’s is a local place that’s been in business for the past thirty years. They have a great selection of food, and on Wednesdays, they have an all-you-can-eat night for the low price of $10 each. Stiles and Derek haven’t been able to eat anywhere for $10 each in a very, very long time. 

The truck is thrown into park, and Stiles shuts off the ignition and pulls out the key. Derek sits in the passenger seat, too large himself to even consider driving. They both throw their doors open, and Stiles falls out of the cab with little grace. When he does he can feel the truck’s frame being relieved from his weight, but immediately dipping with Derek’s on the other side. 

From his side, Derek wiggles. He manages to get his right leg out from the confined space under the dashboard and his belly to start reaching for the ground. Stiles makes his way to the otherside of the truck. Derek gets his foot on the running board, and uses that to leverage his other leg out. His massive belly jiggles and flops as he twists in his seat, using the frame of the door as a handle. Another leg appears, and he reaches down to the asphalt below. Stiles observes, and offers a bit of encouragement when he can. 

Both of Derek’s feet hit the ground and the truck almost bounces back up when all of Derek’s bulk is out of the cab. Derek takes a couple of small steps, adjusting his shirt to cover his massive belly as best he can, and slams the truck’s door behind him. 

Read on AO3

They’re parked as close to the door as possible. Derek takes small, slow steps, working each step like it’s a personal everest of his. Stiles scoops up his hand, and Derek doesn’t let go. 

It was 10 years ago that Derek confessed his love for Stiles. It was nearly 9 years ago when Derek admitted that he wanted to start gaining weight. It was 8 and a half years ago when Stiles decided he also wanted to gain weight. 

Derek’s bulk was in his belly. It was wide and round. It extends far out in front of him and sits heavily on top of his pants. His arms are massive too, and so are his legs, but his belly is where all the weight goes. Lately, Stiles has noticed his underbelly getting bigger too, and he can’t wait for the day Derek’s fupa hangs low by his knees like his stomach already does. Three months ago, Derek weighed 589 pounds. Stiles is so pleased.

Stiles’ weight is more evenly distributed, but settles in his lower half. He’s smaller than Derek, by quite a bit at this point, but he’s grown happy with his body and doesn’t really mind their side difference. He’s squishy all over, none of his fat really hardening like Derek’s does. Even when he’s stuffed, his belly is still soft and pliable in his fingers. His upper arms are thick and stretch out any shirt or hoodie he tries to wear. They look like hams. His face is soft too. While Derek’s double and triple chins hide behind a beard, Stiles keeps his face clean shaven proving that there are multiple chins down there. His thighs rub together, and they’re so thick that he walks with a wide stride that leaves him waddling from one leg to another. Three months ago, Stiles weighed 342 pounds. Derek couldn’t keep his hands to himself as the digital read out on their scale announced the number.

Derek’s steps are laborious. They don’t walk a lot given heir total combined bulk of being fat as fuck, but their montly trip to Hal’s was always a moment they really enjoyed. They don’t get out of the house much, and even as Derek keeps growing, it gets harder and harder. Stiles idly wonders how much Derek has gained since the last time he was weighed, or even last month’s date night. 

The doors to Hal’s are motion sensing and slide open when they detect Stiles and Derek’s imminent entrance. However, it takes them a few more moments than it would take anyone else and the doors close again, then open again. The doors open and close three times before Stiles and Derek get inside. 

“Ah! My favorite customers!” Hal says from his place behind the cash register. “We were wondering if you two were coming this month.” 

“Oh course we’d come,” Derek pants, moving his thick arm to dig out his wallet from his pocket. It’s not easy, and requires some manuvering around fat, but he gets it. “Two please.” 

Hal immediately escorts them to a nearby table, one very close to the buffet lineup. The chairs at Hal’s have been reinforced. Mostly because on night a few years back Derek broke the chair he was sitting on. The table they’re given is big enough to seat about six people. Derek plots onto two chairs on one side, while Stiles manages to feel comfortable enough on one chair tonight on the other. 

Hal takes Derek’s card and rings them up for the night, and brings the check over for Derek to sign. Normally, Hal doesn’t do table service, because it’s a buffet, but he’s always made special accommodations for Stiles and Derek. 

A cute little server girl comes out from the kitchen. She’s wearing an apron and under normal conditions her job is to clean up after guests leave, tonight though, her job also includes bring food for Stiles and Derek. 

“Hi Anne,” Stiles says, peering over to the rows and rows of food. 

“Hi Stiles. Hi Derek,” Anne is familiar with the couple. Derek puts in his order, and reminds her to pack the plate high because. Stiles decides he wants to walk around and see what’s up there himself. 

Derek watches as Stiles waddles to the pile of places and immediately starts spooning food onto the plate, soon grabbing another one. Anne comes back with two plates for Derek, filled with the food he asked for and a few moments later, Stiles returns with plates of his own. Anne brings them drinks and silverware before leaving them to clean a table that recently freed up near them. 

They eat. Stiles gets up once he finishes the food on his plates to get more. Derek calls on Anne to bring him more. Stiles enjoys a steak or two while Derek can’t get enough of the spaghetti. Mashed potatoes with gravy, mac and cheese, pizza, corndogs, chicken fried steak, hamburgers, and so much more move through their plates. Stiles brings Derek a plate every now and then, encouraging him to try to fish or the chicken or this or that. Derek inhales it all. 

It takes a while, but Derek starts getting full and he’s pleased when he lets out a burp that startles a couple nearby. Stiles can’t imagine what they must look like to them. A couple of huge dudes who can’t even stop eating for a moment to talk to one another outside of small encouragements and compliments about having barbecue sauce on their chin. Derek takes up two chairs for fuck’s sake. They must look ridiculous. But Stiles doesn’t care. He continues to munch on his crab legs. 

Stiles starts getting full and concedes that it is time for dessert. He makes his way to the dessert station and brings back cakes and cookies and ice cream and so much more. He also brings back another plate for Derek even though he sees Anne working up another couple of plates for him already. 

Derek keeps eating and Stiles begins to slow down, feeling the pressure of his fully belly against the edge of the table, but he also loves dessert the best. While Stiles could easily eat an entire meal made of only sweets, Derek loved the savory. There is a plate piled with fries that Derek grabs every now and then. Stiles sneaks a couple from the pile to dip in his ice cream. 

“Do you think they’ll make me a milkshake if I ask?” Stiles ponders sucking on the straw of his soda. 

“Hmm probably,” Derek responds, mouth full of food. The front of his shirt is littered with small spots of food having dropped while he was eating. Stiles wonders if it is finally time to invest in some bibs for him. 

When Anne comes back, Stiles asks and she leaves to the kitchen to see what she can do. Derek starts to lean back in his chair, which signals to Stiles that he’s reaching the end of the meal himself. 

“Do you want dessert? I’m going to go get more,” Stiles starts the process of standing up, it’s always a little more work when you’re full. Derek nods while bringing another forkful of food. 

Stiles packs a couple plates full of desserts, and brings another plate of fries for him and Derek to share. When he gets back Anne is bringing out a sizable milkshake. Stiles plots back into his seat, putting the plates of dessert on the table as Anne takes some plates away. Stiles needs to remember to leave her a very large tip. Stiles sips the milkshake, watching Derek concentrate as he keeps bringing his fork from the plate to his mouth. 

At this point, Stiles knows, it’s not about eating for Derek, it’s about being stuffed. He won’t stop eating until he feels he cannot eat another bite. Stiles knows his limit, and he’ll stop when he is pleasantly full, but Derek has gained nearly 500 pounds in 9 years for a reason. 

Around them, people leave. Normal people don’t spend more than an hour here. Derek and Stiles can, and have, spend the whole evening here. 

Once Derek really starts to slow down, the conversation between them flows. They live together and while Derek works from home, Stiles doesn’t. They talk about work, and other things. They were hoping to go see a movie soon, but the seats were an issue for them now. (Buying 4 seats for two people starts to get a bit ridiculous.) 

Stiles continues to sip at his milkshake, it’s very good. Every now and then he dips a fry into it and eats it up. The sweet and salty mix on his tongue in a satisfying way. Derek finishes all the food they have at the table, so Stiles goes and dutifully gets him another plate. Derek keeps eating. 

Stiles announces that he’s talked to his dad. They hadn’t seen each other since John married Melissa and they ran off to Mexico together a few years back. They invite Stiles and Derek down often enough, but Stiles knows they can’t really travel much anymore. Derek announces a potential promotion for him. It’s in the very early stages, but he isn’t sure he’s super interested because it may require an in person interview. 

They’re lifestyle is a little extreme for some people’s taste. Stiles knows he’s had to defend his lifestyle to Scott many times. The excuse of wanting them to be healthy always being a main argument on Scott’s part. 

Derek starts really slowing down, instead of brining his fork up every few seconds for another bit, he takes maybe a minute to bring his hand up again. The amount on the fork getting smaller and smaller. Stiles definitely brought him too much dessert on purpose. 

“Come on babe, you can finish all that. It’s not that much,” Stiles offers his encouragement. Derek seems determined, and he takes another bite. 

Stiles keeps talking, as Derek begins to concentrate hard on the last little bit of food on the plate. 

“Just a little bit more Der,” Stiles takes the last few sips of his milkshake, and he can feel it go down his throat and join the rest of the food in his belly. He idly rubs circles into the flesh that meet the side of the table.  “You’re doing soo good.” 

Derek fills his fork with the last little bit of pudding and cake from his plate. He takes the final bite, chews for a moment, then swallows. To demonstrate how done he is, he rolls his head back and uses his legs to push himself up a little bit. Stiles can see his hand trying to make it’s way to the bottom of his belly, where his sweatpants are probably cutting into him uncomfortably. Derek stopped wearing jeans years ago, but Stiles does miss the harsh red lines that came after keeping his big belly confined for so long. 

Stiles continues talking, he knows Derek is listening. 

“‘M so full,” Derek announces,” which is good because that was kind of the point of coming to dinner. 

“Well, Hall won’t kick us out,” Stiles says. He finished his milkshake, and now that he’s let his food settle for a few minutes he considers going and getting another plate of food, or maybe dessert. They’re not going to go anywhere for awhile. Derek is too full to move. 

Derek can feel his stomach weighing him down, holding him, forcing him, down to the chairs he is sitting on. He kind of wishes he and Stiles were back home, so Stiles could rub circles into his over inflated belly and massage the softer rolls hidden by his sweats. He rests his eyes, enjoying the full sensation that comes with over eating, over stuffing himself.

Stiles gives in and goes back up for another plate. Derek hears Stiles stand, and looks after him to watch his body sway back and forth as his legs try to make big steps but are confined to taking small wide ones. Stiles still insists on wearing flannel overshirts, which disguise--albeit not very well-the rolls of fat that are on his back. The t-shirts underneath, Derek knows, cling to them tightly and put them on display for everyone to see. The flannel shirts cover it up and Derek mourns over the absence of them. His jeans are tight, because Stiles still insists on wearing jeans, even if it’s only once and a while. His ass crack peeks out the top of the jeans, just enough that when he walks a certain way Derek can see it between the tops of his pants and the bottom of his flannel.  The jeans are sinfully tight, showcasing the rolls that have developed on Stiles’ thighs. 

Derek watches, enamored by Stiles. 

As Stiles returns with his full plate, Derek sees tug his shirt down in front of him, like it’s riding up repeatedly. Derek wonders if Stiles can feel his belly showing. 

“Shirts getting a bit small?” Derek asks, lifting his head as Stiles makes his way back to the table and sits down with a big sigh. 

“Yeah, think so,” Stiles admits. He has another plate full of desserts, he starts eating, Derek feels automatically compelled to eat something but his gut is so full in front of him that he can’t move to swipe something from Stiles’ plate. 

The couple continues to talk while Derek digests enough to stand and Stiles finishes his last plate of food. Hal comes over a couple of times and makes sure they’re both doing okay, as well as Anne. Stiles slips a couple twenties on the table when Derek finally musters up enough strength to stand. 

They’re always seated at a table with chairs, after the time Derek got wedged so tightly into a booth they had to remove the table top so he could get out. Stiles stands, which allows Derek to push the table away from him, and then use it to help him stand. They walk to the exit, Hal and Anne following them to make sure they both get out and to their car okay. 

The truck is right where they left it. Stiles helps Derek climb into it, the poor truck leaning and groaning under the weight of Derek. Stiles closes the door, knowing Derek is inside holding some of himself to allow the door to close at all. He makes his way to the driver’s seat, and gets himself up there, again the truck doesn’t seem happy with the new added weight. 

Before they drive off, they sit in the truck for a moment, Stiles adjusting himself to he can make sure he’s as comfortable as he can be in the tight space. 

Stiles reaches a hand over to roam Derek’s big, hard belly. It always amazing him, how much Derek can eat. “Happy anniversary,” Stiles says. 

“Happy anniversary,” Derek responds, the two lean together, Derek pushes against the side of the truck to get him all the way to meet Stiles’ lips. To another ten years. 

[despair-tummy]

if you're still open for requests, maybe syo feeding a really fat byakuya?

Sure, ngl Bya.kuya is fun to write.

[[MORE]]

A Togami was supposed to be the very definition of perfection. Intelligent, sharp, witty, in top physical condition and health, skillful, resourceful and powerful. Byakuya prided himself on not only being the current head of the Togami’s ever-expanding empire but also the youngest male to ever win. He competed against his siblings from his father’s various mistresses and came out on top. Earning his place in the world by meeting and going above and beyond with each expectation placed before him. Indeed, Byakuya Togami was the very definition of what a Togami should be in all aspects...

Well, maybe he was struggling in one aspect more than he would like to admit. It wasn’t intentional, not in the slightest. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint where it started to slip from his hands, but somewhere along the line, he lost control.

It crept up on him, slowly. He was naive and didn’t see it at first, and when he did he refused to acknowledge it. Because acknowledging its existence would mean accepting the fact he was getting fat. That little flab of extra softness on his middle was hardly as concerning as the mystery shrouding the depths of this academy. And his blazer could easily hide it safely from everyone’s view. He was so confident in himself that the little extra weight would go away if he cut back on eating.

Granted, it would have if actually cut back on snacking so unnecessarily. But it was a shameful moment of weakness on his part, to give in to such overindulgence. But as much as he hated to admit it, every man had his weakness. His came in the form of chocolate cake.

It was bad enough Toko and her disgusting lack of hygiene stalked him to such annoying lengths, but her split personality was just as bad, if not worse. Byakuya believed himself to be unbreakable when it came to willpower, but in reality, he was like a block of ice. You wait long enough and it would melt.

If Toko was persistent in following him around like a puppy, Syo took that to new extremes. But much to everyone’s surprise including his own, Syo could be reasoned with. Despite being a serial killer who killed men in a gruesome manner, she too had an array of hobbies aside from murdering and harassing him. Though Syo being as unexpected as she was, she had a completely unexpected hobby... baking.

It would start with the serial killer harassing him with a slice of chocolate cake she made just for him. He refused, many times. But once Syo promised to leave him alone for the rest of the day he begrudgingly gave in. Much to his relief, the cake slice was free from hair, blood or anything else from her horrible smelling body. And to his surprise, the taste wasn’t awful. It certainly didn’t compare to the cakes his personal chefs could make, but it could pass as eatable and wasn’t as dreadful tasting as he originally thought it was going to be.

Sure enough, it became a daily thing, Syo would offer to leave him alone in exchange he had to eat whatever she baked. It didn’t take long for that little extra weight to appear, and for him to spiral out of control from there.

That small pudge just got bigger, and it wasn’t just his midsection that fell victim to the extra weight. One slice of cake eventually grew into two slices, and soon three slices, it wasn’t long before he was basically eating a whole cake a day. And sure enough, his weight skyrocketed.

The floor creaked underneath his feet with every step he took, he tried his hardest not to pant. He was the current head of the Togami cooperation, simply walking from his dorm to the dining room shouldn’t make him winded! But the sweat that dripped from his round face and soaked underarms begged to differ. Every step he took was a struggle given the massive amount of pillowy fat that hung off his legs and uncomfortably rubbed together with each step, making his feet look comically small in comparison.

But it wasn’t just his bottom half that had underwent such a change, the upper half of his body wasn’t faring much better. His stomach hung and sagged, peeking out from under his shirt just enough to expose his navel. It was embarrassing enough having to request Monokuma provide him with attire that fitted before, but he found himself having to do so regularly.

Then there were his arms, they were offering less and less useful as they grew so thick with fat that it hung, resembling a flying squirrel in flight with its sagging skin as oppose to human arms.

His face, rounder from all the weight he piled on and there was that double chin he was sporting. He was far from the slender and intimidating heir that first entered Hope’s Peak Academy, that Byakuya was long gone. Buried in hundreds of pounds of excess weight somewhere, all that remained was his usual cold and to the point demeanour... well, at least that was demeanour he tried to keep. It was hard to appear professional and collective when a button popped off from his already skin-tight suit or when he was out of breath from walking short distances.

He quickly dabbed the sweat off his forehead with the cloth he used to clean his glasses. There, hopefully, he would manage to look someone presentable, like the old Byakuya Togami did a few hundred pounds ago.

He straightened his back, despite the fact it caused the white dress shirt he wore underneath to ride up and expose his pale midsection. But a Togami never slouched, not in the history of his family line. And Byakuya didn’t intend to be the first.

After taking a deep breath, he opened the door. He was the last to arrive, one because he never cared for the morning meetings Kiyotaka tried to get them all to attend. And secondly, it was difficult to get the motivation to walk these days.

“Maaaaster~!” the ever so dreadfully familiar voice of Genocider Syo said in a sickeningly sweet sing-song manner.

There in the middle of the dining hall was Syo, waving him over along to the table which was packed with multiple desserts. He tried his hardest not to show his exhaustion, but the sweat dripping down from his fat redden face was a dead giveaway.

“I got your seat all ready too.” Syo grinned, gesturing to the row that consisted of three seats. Yup, you heard that correctly. It took three chairs for him to be able to sit comfortably.

He remained silent, trying to ignore the gazes collectively on him from the others. He huffed and sat down, all three chairs giving a less than subtle creak as his massively round rear settled into the chairs.

“I woke up extra early to make all of this for yoooou.” Syo sang, tying a napkin around his neck, a miracle he even still had one at this point. “The more you eat, the more time I get to spend with you before I got to go.” she crackled, setting a bowl of chocolate mousse before him. “Now open up,” she used a spoon to scoop a hefty spoonful of mousse.

Normally he would have protested to eating so much, and especially to Syo spoon-feeding him. But that was ages ago, he regretfully became accustomed to this. As well as everyone else, the odd stares from the other students grew fewer and fewer as time went on as they got used to this odd display, but they didn’t completely stop and Byakuya doubted they ever will.

“The things I do for peace and quiet...” Byakuya muttered to himself and allowed Syo to feed him the spoonful with great reluctance.

Sure he could opt for her to feed him somewhere more private, but Byakuya didn’t even want to think of all the crude things Syo were to say if he ate like this with her privately.

An empty bowl later she presented him with a plate full of chocolate truffles. Despite eating an absurd amount of mousse, his stomach let out a barbaric grumble, signalling it wanted more. Much to Byakuya’s embarrassment, eating so much was one thing, but actually craving it was another.

“Don’t worry, I made more than enough!” Syo crackled, popping a few in his mouth following by giving his stomach a pat.

As soon as his teeth broke into the truffles his mouth was coated in a sickeningly sweet layer of milk, dark and white chocolate.

He forced himself to swallow, sure enough, another handful of truffles and another explosion of chocolate in his mouth, and repeat.

Two dishes down, countless more to go. Next up was the one that started this snowballing, chocolate cake. Though instead of single slices like it was the first time, as of late it was whole cakes.

“Open wide,” Syo grinned, bringing a forkful to his lips.

It was a miracle he wasn’t sick of chocolate cake yet or anything chocolate related for that matter. It wasn’t long until the cake was reduced to nothing but a few crumbs.

“Are we done yet?” Byakuya asked, trying and failing to stifle a burp.

Syo just gave one of her deranged laughs before setting a plate before him. Byakuya guessed he was going to be here a while before he eventually got some peace and quiet. Donuts, cupcakes, ice cream, pudding, cookies and everything else you could think of were fed to him, all chocolate flavoured of course to stay with the theme.

The desserts disappeared and were replaced with towers of empty plates stacked on top of each other. As the last chocolate-filled pastry passed his lips, even he didn’t Have enough dignity to hold back a full burp as he leaned back in his seat. His already doughy and wide stomach was extra taut from the sheer amount of food. His suit was already clinging to him tightly like a second skin, but now it seemed to almost magically cling tighter, bringing even more attention to the collection of rolls of fat he had. Making him look more like an overstuffed sausage than a refined man.

He panted, finding himself almost as exhausted as he was when he walked up the flights of stairs to get to the library.

“There, I...I finished your baking.” Byakuya spoke, unable to help but put a hand on his swollen gut and tried to rub the ache of fullness away. “You know the deal, now leave.”

“Awwwww, but master, I have a another course just waiting for you in the kitchen. I couldn’t fit it all on the table.” she poked his soft yet somewhat hard stomach. “Though... if you rather spend the day with little old me, we could-“

“Bring on the second course!” Byakuya answered immediately.

“As you wish.” Syo grinned, happily skipping off to fill the table with dishes of sweets yet again.

[rosecolouredash]

Star-crossed; Hockey!Calum

Pairing: Hockey!Calum x fem!OC

Summary: It was just his luck that he found her pretty.

Warnings: Minor language, sports-related violence

Notes: So this is the third Hockey!Calum one shot I’ve posted in a row (the fourth, if you count Hockey!Cashton…) I DON’T KNOW WHO I AM. Ehhm. ANYWAYS thank you to the amazing @casht0n-hoodwin for sending me this blurb idea. As you can see Mak, I kinda ran with it and I might keep running with it for a lil while longer… Also, I tried something new and wrote this in the third person and with OCs! Let me know what you think. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy! It was nice to get back into some writing again.

Calum watched, slightly bleary eyed, as his captain ordered another round of shots. The group of college boys occupying the local bar started their night out thinking they’d have a casual drink with the team. Each boy was at least three drinks in, at this point.

The dark-haired boy laughed as he took the small glass that was offered to him by a fellow defensemen. After cheersing the teammates closest to him, Calum tapped the bottom of the glass on the bar before he brought it up to his lips and downed the shot in an instant - the liquor coating his throat with a somewhat pleasant burn.

The Timberwolves hockey team celebrated their recent win at regionals. They were now headed into the national championship.

“All right, lads. Try not to stay out late tonight,” Ashton started, using a tone of voice the team was familiar with during practice. “We have an early practice tomorrow and then our semi-final game against the Grizzlies on Saturday night.”

The team had less than a week to prepare for one of the most important games of their college hockey careers.

The Grizzlies were a relatively unknown team from the town over that qualified for nationals this year.

Their success was largely due to their captain, Blake Weaver, a rising forward who currently held the college league’s record of most goals in a single season. Their dark horse status left the Timberwolves apprehensive, especially their captain. Ashton was adamant on being ready to play against them.

Michael lifted his beer bottle to the team. “Here’s to a successful bear hunt, this weekend. Eh, boys?”

Howls of laughter filled the space.

As he took a moment to gaze around the small bar, Calum caught eyes with a pretty blonde who offered him a sweet smile.

He finished one more drink before declaring that he was headed out. Bidding farewell to his family of a team, some with much difficulty - Luke almost convinced him to stay - he left the crowded bar.

The late-evening air was cool on his skin.

Before he had the chance to begin walking back to his apartment, a couple of blocks away, the heavy door of the bar swung open again.

It was the blonde Calum had shared a smile with.

“Calling it a night, too?” He asked, kindly.

“Mm, something like that.” She grinned, her dimples becoming apparent. “The boys in there are getting a little rowdy.”

She continued to recount that as she left, a tall curly-haired boy had started double-fisting bottles of beer. Calum chuckled at the comment; confident that she was describing his best friend.

Falling into an easy-going conversation, Calum admired her eyes. They were a lighter shade of brown, unlike his own.

He learned that she was visiting town and that this particular dive bar was a recommendation. He listed other places to visit which she appreciated immensely. When she asked about dog-friendly spots, the dark-haired boy was elated to share the places in which he brought his little pup, Duke. At that point, he asked if she wanted to see pictures of him. He was halfway through pulling out his phone when she happily obliged; while sharing pictures of her own puppy.

Mid-way through their conversation, Calum realized he never properly introduced himself. As he gave his name, Ashton and Michael exited the bar with Luke - one of his arms draped over the two aforementioned boys.

“Cal, you’re still here?” Ashton questioned when he noticed that a girl was with him. She was shy of his height by a few inches.

Confused at the enquiry, Calum glanced at his phone, still out from sharing pictures of Duke and checked the time. He figured out that they were stood outside the bar talking for over an hour now.

Calum introduced his best friends, each of them giving her some form of greeting, safe for Luke who let out a small burp then giggled. His laugh was infectious and so she couldn’t help but join in.

They were telling her that they played on the college hockey team when a car pulled up to the curb of the bar.

“Oh! There’s my ride,” she apologized, cutting Michael off from his story from their last game. After wishing them goodnight, she got in and waved from the interior of the vehicle. She greeted the green-eyed boy in the driver’s seat who gave the foursome one last stare before speeding away.

“She was nice,” Luke hummed and then rested his head on Michael’s shoulder. “What’s her name?”

“Shit,” Calum realized she hadn’t said. Though, he did know her dog’s name was Rococo.

“That’s a nice name.”

Ashton snorted at Luke’s half-coherent response, rubbing his back. “Let’s get you home, mate.”

—

“That must be him.”

Calum looked over to the opposing team’s bench.

It was Saturday night and the semi-final game, between the Timberwolves and the Grizzlies, was about to begin. From his place on the ice, the defenseman watched as a tall fellow spoke to the Grizzlies head coach; WEAVER glaring from the back of his jersey in red fabric.

“You think you can take him, Cal?” The boy in blue looked over to his captain. It was decided that Calum would stay on Weaver; the entire game. He responded with a reassuring nod.

They got into their positions when the referee moved to center ice for the puck drop.

Ashton faced his opponent when a feeling of recognition washed over him. The Timberwolves’ captain raised his eyebrow at the boy. “Have we ever met before?”

Weaver stayed silent, his glare unnerving.

Michael let out a chuckle from his place on Ashton’s left. “Strong, silent type, huh?”

Their opponent shifted his gaze over to the left-winged player, “I let my actions on the ice speak for me.”

Before Michael could respond, the referee blew his whistle to signal the beginning of the game.

The puck went down and Ashton won the face-off. He quickly passed it to Luke, who then passed it up to Michael. Unfortunately, the left-wing had skated too far up on the ice and one of the Grizzlies got in-between to steal the puck.

Calum, who was about to cover Weaver, swore under his breath and fell back to play on the defensive.

It went back and forth like this between the two teams for a while.

At one point in the first period, the captain of the Grizzlies had possession of the puck.

This was Calum’s chance. He focused solely on the stitching of WEAVER on the back of the white jersey and went in for the hit. When Calum made contact, the defensemen could have sworn he heard a whimper when Weaver crashed into the boards and fell down onto the ice.

Before Weaver was hit, the puck was passed to a Grizzlies teammate that was off-side so the play was whistled down to a stop.

“Damn.” Calum heard from Weaver who was trying to get up from the ice. Feeling a little bad, the defensemen did the sportsmanly thing and offered a gloved hand. Before grabbing ahold of it, a voice cut through the ice, making them pull away from each other.

“Get away from my sister!”

“Sister?” Michael questioned, skating over to his best friend. He and Calum shared a confused look.

The boy who had called out, crouched down onto the ice and went to remove Weaver’s helmet. “You ok, Blake?”

“Woah, wait a minute…” Michael chimed in again but the rest of his sentence died out in his throat.

Underneath the headgear, blonde hair was revealed; bits of it falling out of a braided crown that wrapped around her head.

When Ashton too skated over, he realized why the guy he shared the face-off circle with seemed so familiar.

Luke was the last to join his teammates and best friends. Skating to a halt, he overlooked the scene and uttered the first words that came to his mind, “well fuck, there’s two of you?”

At that, Calum was broken out of his reverie. He locked eyes again with the pretty blonde they’d met a couple of nights ago at the bar.

She offered him a sheepish smile, her dimples matching those of her twin brother until he began to frown at the foursome. “It’s nice to see you boys again.”

Tagged: @irwinkitten @calpops @rosecoloredash @lilbabycalum @gorgeouslygrace @rainingcal @casht0n-hoodwin @lockthisheartinchains @americanhorrorstudies @lovableah

[wisepuma23]

The Butterfly’s Shelter: Chapter 1

Summary - Logan dreamed about becoming a father all his life. However, he finds being a father on paper is very different than actually being a father to a real living breathing child. Virgil was three months old when he was adopted by Logan Crofters but his eyes spark with a curiosity, unlike other babies at his age. It both fills Logan with pride and complete utter dread. Meanwhile, he doesn't understand how his best friend, Patton Milena, was able to pull off being a single Dad to his five-year-old son, Roman. When he asks, Patton laughs until he nearly pukes, and just pats him on the shoulder.

Everything changes after Virgil's first birthday.

Logan will finally understand what it truly means to be a father beyond yanking him from open sockets and burping him as according to page 63 of his parenting manual.

Word count - 2, 901

Pairings - Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic Royality, Platonic Prinxiety

Warnings - None

Notes - Behold! It's here!! Our collab between me and Tashi (fangirltothefullest)! It all started because of one scene from my fic (We Were Never Welcome Here) and we have been excitedly brainstorming and planning this Dad!Logan AU!!!

I also want to say thank you to our beta my-happy-little-bean!!! She's amazing and she really helped us polish our chapter for tonight.

It will be updated every two weeks so keep your eyes out for that!

I hope y’all enjoy!

Next Chapter

Read on AO3

Footsteps tapped along tiled floors as Logan sat in the waiting room. That universal rhythmic drum of nerves and stress made Logan aware of his own finger tapping against the chair he sat on. He couldn’t help it. Parents, nurses, and children roamed the bright hallways of the pediatric wing. His leg bounced in place as children laughed and he heard their little giggles fill his ears, his mind, his very heart.

Soon, soon, his thoughts cried out in agony. He noticed a mother across from him tilt her head in concern, then blossomed into pity. Logan felt hot embarrassment fill his chest and forced his leg and finger to sit still, yet the bundle of nerves that sat in his chest like an iron ball did not leave.

He knew it was expected for fathers to experience stress on their very first day as a father. Normal, even. Logan looked down, but he wasn’t like most fathers. Most fathers didn’t need to go through a million hoops, calls, and interviews by social workers and state officials alike. Even if it had been a hassle for the past two years, he much preferred the screening process to be complicated and thorough; it made for a better result in the end. Logan did not balk at the mountain of paperwork that stood in his way.

It was worth it.

He was prepared as far as the home, career, and state requirements seemed to suggest and the paperwork was filled out neatly and orderly. Logan had crossed all his t’s and dotted his i’s. It had taken twice as long to make sure everything was in order because they had lost his application twice when he’d faxed it. It was as if the world was trying to deny him. But Logan was not one to give up. Not after so long of dreaming about this.

Yet now that he, Logan Crofters, was faced with the actual premise of facing the children and selecting one to adopt? His heart pounded in his ears and threatened to burst out of his chest and onto the sanitized floors. His palms were sweaty no matter how many times he wiped down his slacks. He was handling it. Kinda.

Beyond the door to his left laid a plentitude of babies in their cribs. He swallowed hard. How was he supposed to choose? What if he couldn’t choose?

His hand pressed up against his tie, habitually adjusting it against the black of his button down, and pushed up his glasses. The habit took the edge off his nerves; at least it didn’t feel like his heart was going to bounce straight out of his chest cavity anymore. Yet his mind clamored with questions still, as it often did.

What if he wasn’t ready? What if this silly little childhood dream to be a father wasn’t meant to be?

Logan shut his eyes against the roar of what if, what if ?

“Mister Crofters?” a voice called out gently, snapping Logan out of his thoughts at the familiarity of it; it was none other than the social worker assigned to his adoption case. The man’s pleasant smile pulled him from his thoughts. Logan admired the dark green tie adorned around the social worker’s neck. Different from last time’s baby blue. Logan shook his head and immediately stood to shake the kind man’s hand.

“Dr. Picani,” Logan greeted with a rare smile, and the other’s blue eyes crinkled behind his own pair of spectacles. Of all the social workers that could be handling the infant department of the adoption agency, Dr. Emile Picani was one of the best. Excitable but gentle, pleasant to talk to and understanding; from the moment Logan met him, he knew this man’s life goal was getting these children to good homes. His kindness above all was what sold Logan that his case was in good hands.

“It’s good to see you, Logan. Are you ready to meet the little ones?” Dr. Picani gestured to the open doorway and Logan nodded.

“I’ve been ready for the past two years, sir; it’d be illogical that I wouldn’t be ready,” Logan said with an edge of confidence and followed him in through the second set of doors. It wasn’t true, and he was terrified beyond belief. He wanted to run to the nearest window and scream. Logan hoped the nurses didn’t tell Dr. Picani about the panic attack he had in the bathroom half an hour ago either. But by Isaac Newton, he wanted this more than anything.

As soon as he entered the room, his ears were immediately assaulted with the sounds of babbling and giggling. Tinkling laughter rang through the air like bells. Logan could see a row of cribs lining the back wall of what looked like a large playroom with baby toys scattered about the floor. There were a few babies who were sleeping, and in another room, Logan could see a couple of heavy-duty cribs fashioned with medical supplies.

None of the babies appeared to be in any of those, though he could only see a couple machines through a cracked glimpse of the sterile room. Nurses and caretakers held some of the babies, feeding them while others played with them on the floor. Warmth filled him up from the bottom of his toes to the top of his head as he leaned over a crib.

The pink baby within burst out into giggles at his appearance. Logan blinked back tears before the other doctors and nurses could see and moved away before he disturbed it further. They looked so… fragile and lovely in a way that he could not put into words. Logan desperately wanted to sit down and never leave the ward again. If he could have dubbed this his new favorite place, he would have.

Logan could see quite a few young volunteers helping out and Dr. Picani smiled at Logan’s awe. Laughter lines deepened around his light blue eyes with amusement and Logan found himself smiling despite his own efforts to appear professional.

“These are most of our available babies ready for adoption.” Dr. Picani told him. “They’ve all been properly vaccinated and such. We are currently housing only one child, an infant, who is in need of medical care and he’s under observation.” Logan frowned in concern, but Dr. Picani handwaved with a beam. “But he’s as strong as Lapis Lazuli, I just know it. He’ll be fine. When you’re done here I can take you there to see him if you like!”

Logan sighed in relief and nodded as he peered about the room. There were so many, how was he supposed to choose? He shuffled in place, torn in too many directions, and Dr. Picani chuckled behind him.

“They don’t bite Logan; that comes when they start getting teeth,” he teased and lifted one little baby from a crib.

“This is little Anna,” he cooed and held her out to Logan who lifted her into his arms and his chest ached. Her rosy cheeks, pudgy little fingers, and eyes that twinkled like sapphires made his heart melt into a puddle. Her eyes lit up and squealed as she kicked her feet. He chuckled and bounced her without thinking.

Dr. Picani smiled. “Aw, see? Paternal instincts kicking in already.”

“Perhaps,” Logan mused and his fear and apprehension of the situation seemed to drain away, “and what happened to you, chubby little thing?” He asked her as if she could answer. “Where are your parents?”

“Teenage pregnancy. Oof.” Dr. Picani shook his head as he checked her file. “The mother has requested being able to visit. However....” He frowned as Logan’s heart leapt up his throat. “... she specifically requested that she wants her child raised by a couple. You’re not-”

“No,” Logan replied with a sigh and gently ran his hand over her rosy cheeks one last time as he set her back down in her crib with the utmost care, ignoring the way his soul screamed . “Single.”

“Mmm indeed. Forgive me, I almost forgot, which was silly of me.” He sighed. “Well, there are plenty of other children whose parents have-”

But he was cut off by an ear-splitting scream shook the room, causing the other babies to startle and cry.

“Oh no, oh dear-!” Dr. Picani and another caretaker moved quickly toward the room of medical cribs. “Forgive us, this little gem is in a lot of pain.”

Logan followed worriedly; the screaming and shrieking tugged at his heart. He entered the other room where they shut the door behind him and he watched Dr. Picani gently reach his hands into the crib and bring the tiniest infant he’d ever seen from the crib. He was not hooked up to any monitors but the room was definitely warmer than the other and smelled even more sterile.

“Is the baby alright?” Logan asked, tone laced heavily with concern, and Dr. Picani nodded as the baby screamed and screamed to no avail.

“Colic,” he said softly as he rubbed the baby’s back in soothing motions. “Poor thing has a lot of tummy pain. But he screams so loudly we can’t keep him near the other little ones or they don’t sleep.” He winced as another wail pierced the room. “I am so sorry, it’s like a Howler Owl is in here. I offer my sincerest condolences for your ears.”

But Logan wasn’t looking at Dr. Picani; his eyes were locked onto the crying little baby, who was sobbing hard enough to almost puke in the other’s gentle grip. His heart ached, yearning to protect him and he held his hands out.

“May I?” he asked.

“Oh! Of course!” Dr. Picani said with a veiled note of surprise as he set him in Logan’s waiting arm, “Don’t shake him, it’s quite tempting for frustrated parents; I highly advise against it no matter how loud he cries.”

“I would never,” Logan whispered as he held the squirming infant closer, supporting his head in the cradle of his arm. “I would rather die than harm this little teardrop of starlight.”

The baby had a tuft of black hair stark against pale sickly skin that sheened with sweat as he squirmed in his gentle yet firm hold. He was so small, a lima bean almost, while the other babies around the ward were hulking giants by comparison. His hands and legs kicked as he let out another hearty wail.

Logan shushed him gently as he bent down and let his forehead bump against the fragile infant with the barest of touches. His skin so soft and supple even if it was slick with tears and sweat at the moment. Those tears bigger than any he had ever seen on a child; filled with so much discomfort and sadness, they fell in big rivers from where they pooled inside his eyes. His pale little face was so blotchy.

Logan felt his heartstrings pulled taut like a bowstring and the pang in his chest returned at the sight of his unyielding struggles.

“I know you’re in pain, little one. You have known nothing else, have you?” Logan whispered, reverent in his tone and his only answer was shuddering, unending sobs. “You are incredibly tiny, aren’t you? Hmm, how old are you?”

He heard the rustle of papers again, and then Dr. Picani’s buttery smooth reply of “About three months now.”

“He’s so young....” Logan said gently and soothingly shushed the baby. He squirmed and cried and it was loud in his ears, but he couldn’t help it and Logan understood that. “Where are his parents?”

For the first time, Dr. Picani lost that perpetual smile.

“He’s an orphan. His parents died when his house caught on fire. Firefighters said it was a faulty oven.” The doctor leaned over to brush a hand over Virgil’s head. “Boy’s a miracle, I tell you. He spent weeks in the infant ICU to recover the damage in his lungs.” Dr. Picani smiled as he brushed away a tear, clearly distressed but proud of the little bean. “He is a fighter.”

“But what about the rest of his relatives?”

Dr. Picani pulled away as a dark look crossed his face.

“None that would take him. They refused to accept a ‘devil baby’.” He glared down at the file he held. “Their words not mine. His relatives think he’s bad luck and don’t consider him part of the family tree. Disowned and discarded as if something this small and helpless could bring misfortune on them like some Scooby Doo villain.”

“Utter nonsense.” Logan resisted the urge to hold the baby tighter in his arms, as if he could shield from the dangerous ignorance of the world. Logan shifted from foot to foot as the baby calmed into mere sniffles; a respite from his pained sobbing. Logan stared at the baby he held, swaddled in soft blue blankets, and remembered the long days of waiting.

Dreams haunted him as a child, of a carriage and pealing laughter as children ran around clutching at his legs. Soft blurry dreams of him rushing to put a band-aid on a skinned knee, small hands that grasped around his neck, and of everlasting sunny days as he played with them in their white picket fence yard. Fatherhood felt more like a wonderful dream than a societal milestone. It was his one life goal, more than his career, and more than his love life. He’d been dreaming of the idea long before he even knew what it entailed.

Round dark eyes met his own and he felt the breath knocked out of him. The awareness that stared back at him fascinated him. This was a human in the making. It will go through various developmental stages until one day it will dream a little dream of its own. Rock star, astrobiologist, writer, or even stunt devil.

He rocked the baby gently, never breaking his stare; his sniffles disappeared as he watched Logan in rapt awe. Curiosity, even. The infant squirmed in his swaddle and thrusted a pudgy hand up at him. His little fingers clenched around his own finger and he watched the baby’s eyes light up despite the pain.

“Oh,” Dr. Picani said, his voice the gentlest he’s ever heard in two years of knowing him. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” Logan croaked as the baby tilted his little head in surprise.

“Sir, you’re crying.”

Logan blinked, but it was true. Tears leaked out of his eyes in steady trickles and he could feel the cold of their rivers running down the sides of his face. He hadn’t even realized. He wondered how strange he must look with tears dripping down his cheeks and he could do nothing more than blink at the doctor in dumbfounded stupidity. He heard a quiet little squeak from the baby he held as he squirmed. His tears were cold but his arms were too full to brush them away.

“This one.” Logan said firmly, facing Dr. Picani head on. “Please.”

Dr. Picani’s eyes went wide at the uncharacteristic voice crack. “A-are you sure? We have other children in the playroom that will be more suited to your needs. He will be very fussy and it will take quite a while for him to recover yet so he may scream all that time. I rather recommend him to a family with experience already and-”

“This one.” Logan said, his voice laced with hard steel.

This was the child he wanted to raise; the one he wanted to dedicate his life to. In an instant he could imagine this little one’s future and its trillions of different changing variables, he knew with absolute certainty he wanted to give this baby a home and love him to the best of his ability.

“What’s his name?” He asked with a smile.

Dr. Picani scratched something on his clipboard and looked up, his eyes searching into Logan one last time before his shoulders dropped.

“Virgil. His name is Virgil.”

Logan pulled his finger away from Virgil’s grip to trace his round cheeks. Still that distressing shade of paleness. Virgil let out a little gurgle and leaned into his warm hand. If he wasn’t crying before, he certainly was now. Tears blurred his vision so much he could barely see. He didn’t believe in a Heaven, but the sheer amounts of dopamine flooding into his system made him more susceptible to believe he was there. Virgil’s brown eyes twinkled with faint starlight.

He was never more sure of anything in his entire life. Previous worries and concerns be damned. He wanted to raise Virgil as his son (or any other gender he was comfortable with later in life) as his own. Logan never understood feelings, or why the thought of letting Virgil go made his skin itchy, but he did understand that this was it. His dream: realized. He had no wife, and no man to take his hand now at twenty-six years old. He had accepted it was never going to happen.

So Logan couldn’t bear to wait another day.

Virgil gurgled and let out a small little giggle as he squirmed in Logan’s careful hold.

“Yes,” Logan smiled, a soft and quiet one as he looked up at Dr. Picani. “Thank you. I cannot express it enough but… thank you.”

Next Chapter

[ginger-and-mint]

A Little Extra

This Elijah-and-Micah fanfic is a birthday gift for my dear friend @tiny-tum, aka the sweetest pea ever to walk the earth. She and her adorable beans have been filling my life with brightness and fluff ever since they came into it. Her stories have my whole heart, and she is one of the kindest, most giving, and most determined souls I have ever had the pleasure to meet.

Please send her a nice warm wish and go read her work if you haven’t already.

And happy birthday, sweet pea. <3

Cardiac muscle cells are also involuntary, mononucleate, and joined by gap junctions as well as specialized desmosomes for heavy forces called intercalated discs….

Elijah’s eyelids fluttered as he realized he was reading the same sentence for the third time in a row. He raised a hand and scrubbed it over his face, wishing he could wipe away the fog of fatigue that was clinging heavily to his thoughts.

He had gotten back late from a smuggling operation the previous night, and had barely had time for a three-hour nap before he’d had to get up for his physiology class. He might’ve considered skipping the lecture and simply depending on his textbook to learn the material, but the exam coming up that Friday meant he could not afford to let his focus slip. It was getting to the point in the semester where there seemed to be a major assignment every week. There just wasn’t enough time, and what little time he had seemed to slip through his fingers like water.

Elijah stifled a yawn, and then frowned as he felt a pinching sensation began to build in his pit of his stomach. He let out a slow breath and tightened his abdominal muscles, hoping he could strangle the sensation away. The motion worked, sort of���what could’ve been an embarrassingly loud growl echoing through the silence of the library was reduced to a quiet, pitiful gurgling.

Another consequence of poor time management. He’d intended to break for lunch an hour ago, but some part of him had been too unsatisfied with the amount of reading he’d done to allow himself that luxury. He’d put off the break for another fifteen minutes, and then another fifteen, and then another. Now it was only five minutes until Micah was coming to join him for a study session.

No sooner had his best friend’s name crossed his mind than Elijah’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He withdrew it, mildly concerned. He had not expected a text. Micah should know to find him at their usual table.

((Meet me on the couches by the entrance?))

Elijah’s heart sped up a little. He wrote back: ((Is everything alright?))

((Yes!)) Micah texted back almost immediately, possibly realizing that he’d startled his friend. A second message came moments later: ((Just come out here. Please?))

Elijah was too tired to investigate further. Wearily, he gathered up his notes, slipped his books into his bag, and went to go find his friend.

Micah was sitting on one of the long couches in the atrium outside the library. He waved when he saw Elijah approaching and patted the empty space next to him invitingly. “Hey El. Goddesses, you look like shit.”

Elijah felt his heart sink as he settled heavily onto the couch. “My apologies. I did not have much time this morning, but I did make an effort to be presentable….”

“No no no, I only mean you look exhausted, you goof.” Micah pressed himself against Elijah’s shoulder in a sort of brief, reassuring cuddle before leaning down to take something out of his backpack. “And no wonder, with how hard you’ve been working lately. So I brought you lunch.”

Elijah blinked in surprised as Micah pulled the lid off a big plastic container filled with rice, steamed vegetables, and a pair of salmon filets, all in a delicate buttery sauce.

“Micah, where did you—mmm.” A little involuntary sound of appreciation escaped Elijah’s lips as the smell of fish washed over him. The knot of hunger in his stomach throbbed, filling his mouth with water, and he had to swallow hard against it to continue his question. “…Where did you get this?”

“I, uh….” Micah grinned a little sheepishly. “I kinda snuck it out of the dining hall. Me and Sasha and Cole met there for lunch, and it looked like something you’d really like, and I had an empty container in backpack….”

“Micah,” said Elijah severely, a little shocked. It was one thing to slip an apple into your pocket on your way out of the dining hall, but the amount of food Micah had taken was equivalent to a whole extra meal. “If you had been caught—”

Micah held up his hands. “Nobody was gonna care! They were about to close for lunch and change over to dinner. It probably would’ve gone to waste if I hadn’t taken it. And I’m sure you haven’t been feeding yourself right, fuckface.” Micah pushed the container and a plastic fork insistently into Elijah’s hands. “So shut up and eat.”

Elijah might’ve said more, but then his stomach growled so loudly that he suspected the group of students passing by a few yards away had heard. He felt his cheeks grow hot and obediently dug the fork into the food.

“Thank you. Geez.” Micah wrapped an arm as far around his friend as he could reach, grinning as Elijah took a big bite. “Is it good?”

“Very,” Elijah admitted. The fish was soft and flaky, its saltiness a perfect compliment to the tangy sauce. The vegetables had been steamed to perfection, delicately crisp and full of flavor. The school’s dining halls were undeniably good at what they did.

The more Elijah ate, the less unsure he felt. Every bite he took not only eased the pinched feeling in his belly, but also relaxed the the pockets of nervous energy that had build up inside him. He could feel them vanishing under the slowly-increasing weight of his stomach, squeezed away into nothing by the nourishing food.

“You’ve been running yourself so ragged lately, El.” Micah rubbed one hand over Elijah’s broad back. He laughed a little at the way Elijah twitched and shivered at his touch.

Elijah swallowed a mouthful of fish and cleared his throat. “Unfortunately I do not have much choice at the moment. I know you would like me to take better care of myself, Micah, but my obligations at the moment are incredibly pressing….”

“I know.” Micah traced a gentle pattern around Elijah’s shoulder blades. “I know you’re busy as fuck, dude. So I’m just gonna take care of you a little extra until you get a moment to breathe.”

The affection in his voice made Elijah’s throat feel strangely tight. “I appreciate your kindness,” he managed, and then filled his mouth with another forkful of vegetables and rice.

The food was almost gone now. Soon Elijah was scraping the bottom of the container, scooping up the final grains of rice, before setting it aside with a contented sigh.

“Knew you’d be hungry,” Micah said softly. He glanced around to make sure there was no one to give them weird looks before reaching under Elijah’s coat to rest a hand over his newly-full belly.

Elijah groaned softly. His friend’s hand felt so good that he couldn’t help relaxing back into his seat. He raised a hand to stifle a soft burp as Micah’s fingers worked circles into the warm food inside him, and then kept the hand up to cover the yawn that rose to his lips.

“Aww.” Micah poked his side teasingly. “You always get so sleepy when your tummy’s full.”

Elijah sighed deeply, feeling a prickle of frustration. “I should have waited to eat. Now my focus will be impaired.”

“You should not have waited to eat, El.” Micah’s fingers patted gently over Elijah’s belly. “You can’t run on nothing forever. Hasn’t our damn physiology class taught you that?” He paused a moment before continuing, “You know what I think? I think you should take a thirty-minute power nap. The library’ll still be here when you wake up. You got a head-start on me with the reading anyway, so I can sit here and catch up.”

“Sleep?” The idea seemed downright absurd to Elijah. “Sleep here?”

“You think you’d be the first person to nap on this couch? In a university library?” Micah laughed. Then he seemed the catch the meaning behind Elijah’s trepidation and grew more serious. “It’s the library, El, nobody can get in without a student card. It’ll be safe. And I’ll be right here. I won’t let anyone sneak up on us, I promise.”

Elijah took a deep breath, intending to protest. But the rounding of his belly with his breath brought the weight of the warm food inside him and the sensation of Micah’s hand into sharp focus, and he felt suddenly and inexplicably calm. His words came out as a resigned sigh instead. “You… are a bad influence.”

“If by ‘bad influence,’ you mean the only fucking thing keeping you from working yourself to death most days—then yeah, I’m a bad influence.” Micah’s voice was cross, but the way he caught Elijah’s hand and rubbed a thumb over the back of it said everything.

Carefully, Elijah stretched himself out over the length of the couch, obliging lying his head in Micah’s lap when his friend patted his knees invitingly. “I am not entirely sure I will be able to fall asleep here,” he confessed, even as his mind swam with exhaustion.

“Yeah, well, just resting your big stupid head will be good for you, I’m sure.” Micah stroked a hand over Elijah’s hair, carefully tucking a stray lock behind his ear.

Elijah made a soft sound of contentment. He opened his mouth to thank his friend—for the touch, for the food, for the care—but what slipped out instead was just a sleepy whisper: “Love you, Micah.”

“Love you too, you stupid bastard.” Micah wrapped a hand over Elijah’s shoulders and held him close. “I love you too.”

[casper-has-a-cat]

too many caretakers

WARNING: descriptions of vomit and diarrhea below!

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okay, you’ve been warned!  please enjoy the fic!

With all of the trees and flowers and the stars shining bright, twinkling pinpricks of all colors of light in the dark blue sky, it was impossible to deny that this virtual world was nothing short of of incredible.  Its semblance to reality was astounding, and the creators had really outdone themselves in their use of fantasy in the small details, making it familiar, but also exciting.

Still, in Hunter’s personal opinion, there were certain aspects of reality that they could have left out.  For example, while he’d told Zeph that his height didn’t matter to him, it wasn’t exactly his favorite thing to be even shorter than he was in real life while playing a video game.  And while he supposed hunger needed to exist in order for skills like Cooking to be of any use, he didn’t see why it was something that needed to be felt physically by the players - he preferred the colored health bar of 2D games to the gnawing sensation of starvation.  If the game had worked that way, then Hunter wouldn’t have ended up in his current situation, having developed a new point of contention with the game: illness.

When Hunter’s eyes flew open in the middle of the night, hours before the sun would rise and everyone else would wake, he knew immediately what had happened.  Hours prior, he’d made himself a meal out of desperation - his hands had been shaking so badly that he could hardly hold the fish above the fire as he cooked it.  In hindsight, he wished that he could’ve held off just a while longer, but he’d been lost at the time and had no way of knowing that he would soon be found.  Sure, his Cooking Skill was Level 0, and sure, the fish had tasted funny, but still.  He hadn’t really expected to wake up shivering and sweating like hell stomach cramps so severe that it was a struggle to stand.

He just felt like that was a bit over the top in the realm of suffering for a video game, even one meant to mimic reality, that’s all.  And yet, here he was, moving as quietly as possible so as not to wake the others sleeping in their little handmade bed (if you could call it that), but also moving as quickly as possible out of necessity.

Out in the forest, the world spun around him and he stumbled forward, careful not to wander too far away.  Despite having mapped out the place over the past few hours, something told him that getting lost again was a significant possibility in his current state.  It was hard to focus on anything other than the cramps in his abdomen, which were becoming sharper and more frequent with every second that passed.

Eventually he stumbled over the root of a tree.  He was able to catch himself against the trunk, but he knew that was as far as he could go.  With the jolt of the misstep, all control of his bowels was suddenly lost.  He immediately stripped his pants and squatted, gasping as his gut tightened of its own accord and forced three rapid-fire, muddy excretions out of his rear.  A horrendously realistic smell wafted up to his nose and Hunter gagged weakly.

“Fucking idiotic game,” he mumbled under his breath, proud of how steady his voice sounded.  In contrast, his whole body was trembling so badly that he had to lean against the tree as he started to stand up.  He was in the process of searching for a leaf to use as toilet paper when another sharp pain sliced through him.  This time bursts of gas and shit exploded from his rear, and the cramping intensified with every expulsion.  For a moment, Hunter thought he might pass out from the pain, but he managed to hang in there.  

Finally, head aching with fever and lack of sleep, Hunter was able to clean up and head back to the campsite.  Tired as he was, he didn’t notice the way Zeph’s eyes followed him in the dark.  Hunter flopped into bed and hoped that sleep would heal him.

When he woke up two hours later, he knew that his wish hadn’t come true.  It was a hand that had woken him - Addie’s, on his forehead.  He pushed away Addie’s hand and the nauseous feeling in his stomach, and then sat up too fast, swaying a bit and trying not to topple over.  Addie placed his hands on Hunter’s arms to steady him.

“Mazin, he’s up!”  Addie shouted.

“What are you doing?”  Hunter snapped, more sharply than he’d intended.  He squirmed out of Addie’s grip and drew his knees up close to his chest.  Sweat was pouring down his back, and the last thing he wanted was to be touched.  Addie’s brows drew closer together.

“We have to get your fever down.  Mazin’s bringing a wet washcloth and water for you to drink so–”

“I’m fine, guys, leave me alone,” Hunter growled as Mazin returned.

“You should lie back down,” Mazin said, handing the washcloth to Addie.  “You could overheat in this weather.”

Growing increasingly agitated at Addie’s stiflingly constant proximity, Hunter stood up, ignoring the nausea that continued to grow.  “I’m fine, okay?  I can take care of myself.”

“Hunter…”  Addie placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder and that was the last straw.  Hunter would have been gone in that instant if not for the deep, prolonged belch that escaped him just then.  With it came a repulsive taste, something akin to rotten fish and Hunter couldn’t even close his mouth before he was retching.  He placed a hand over his mouth, but the rush of bile sprayed through his fingers and onto the floor.

Everyone froze for a beat.  Addie and Mazin stared in shock.  Hunter held a shaking fist to his lips and kept his mouth clamped shut against a series of gags.  Eventually, he managed to regain some semblance of control over his stomach.

“Fuck,” he panted unevenly, spitting into the pool of sick at his feet.  “Fuck.  I’m leaving.  Don’t follow me.  I need to be alone.”

“Hunter you can’t!”  Addie shouted after him but Hunter simply quickened his pace.  “You’re sick, it’s dangerous!  What if you get lost again or–”

Suddenly Zeph, who’d been lying in bed the whole time, was in front of Addie, cutting him off a preventing him from following after Hunter.

“Zeph!”

“Leave him alone for a bit, alright?  He can take care of himself.”  Zeph’s arms were crossed, but for once he didn’t seem to be acting out of spite.  His voice was tired, but genuine.  “He just needs some space.”

“Are you sure he’ll be okay out there by himself?”  Mazin asked quietly.  Zeph shrugged, and some of his normal coldness returned.

“No, but that’s not my problem.  He doesn’t want your help, so let him figure things out by himself.”

Mazin sighed as Zeph walked away.  “I mean, he’s right.  Hunter will be okay by himself for a while.”

Addie wrapped his arms around his stomach, looking miserable.  “I’m just worried about him,” he said in a quiet voice.

To be fair, he was right to be worried.  Hunter’s stomach was killing him as he walked away from their camp - it was so bad that he walked hunched over, unable to stand up straight.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this awful, burping every couple of seconds and feeling worse by the minute.

He didn’t get very far before his stomach rebelled again, this time with even more force.  He retched so hard that he thought his eyes might pop out of his head, and was shocked when nothing came up.  His stomach certainly didn’t feel empty, and the nausea hadn’t lessened in the slightest.

Still, he trudged on, not knowing where he was going, but knowing that he wanted to be away.  He only made it a couple steps further, though, before a gut-wrenching belch brought him to his hands and knees on the forest floor.  It hurt too bad to stifle his groan, and was followed by an equally vicious and significantly more wet burp that left Hunter coughing and hoping for a swift death. Plus, there was a chance that if he died in game, he’d wake up alive in the real world, and he figured that anything was better than this.

He realized he was wrong when a third burp disolved into sickly coughing, which eventually jarred his stomach enough to bring up a wave of vomit.  He’d been expecting it, but the force of it caught him off guard and he found himself sputtering in a struggle to breathe.

A cold raindrop splashed onto his shoulder moments before the sky started pouring.  Hunter could have laughed at his awful luck if he wasn’t busy retching.  After four or five in a row that brought up small streams of bile, another waterfall gushed out of him.

Who in their right mind would make players vomit in a video game?

Hunter was seeing stars from lack of oxygen by the time he got the chance to breathe.  He only had a few seconds of reprieve before he was heaving again, bringing up a small mouthful of sick.  A sharp pain in his lower abdomen had him stripping his pants.  They fell to the sopping wet ground and Hunter kicked them out of the way just in time for a sloppy steam of diarrhea to splash onto the ground.  He was momentarily glad that the puring rain was more or less drowning out the sound.  Then he pitched forward with a drawn-out belch that brought with it a massive wave of vomit.  His stomach was still cramping and he could feel liquid shit dripping down his legs, but with sick pouring out of his nose and mouth at the same time, he was more worried about breathing.

By the time his airways were free, Hunter’s stomach was killing him.  He waited for the last of the diarrhea to taper off, then let the rain wash over him for a while, rinsing away the mess.  His muscles were so worn out that even putting his sopping-wet pants back on was a struggle.  He stripped his shirt off because it smelled like vomit even after being rinsed off, and then leaned against the trunk of a tree.  After a minute, he sunk to the ground, trembling too much to remain standing.

After a while, he dozed off, only to wake minutes later to a clap of lightening.  He groaned.  He needed to go back to their camp.

When he stumbled back, he thought at first that everyone was asleep.  It was so quiet.  Then there was a bit of a rustling noise and he looked over to see Zeph, who was leaning against one of the trees that served as the support beams for their temporary shelter.

“You okay?”

Hunter swallowed, nodded.  “Are Addie and Mazin, uh…?”

“I told them to go to sleep while I kept watch.”

Hunter nodded again, guiltily this time, and rubbed his arms as a shiver ran through him.  “Well, I’m back, so you can sleep now.”

At that Zeph snorted and stood, walking over to Hunter.  He rolled his eyes.  “You’re a mess.  If you go to sleep like this you’ll probably just get sicker.”

Hunter shrugged.  “I’ll be fine.”  But Zeph was already grabbing some of his own garments - a large sweatshirt and sweatpants - from his backpack.  He toweled off Hunter’s hair and handed him the clothes, along with a heavy blanket.  

“Go change, then get some sleep.  I’ll be up all night, so let me know if you need anything.”

Hunter frowned.  “I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” Zeph said, almost laughing.  “But I’ll be here anyway.  Go on,” he said, seeing Hunter hesitate again.  “Get to bed.  You look awful.”

Grumbling, but grateful, Hunter did as he was told.

send me an ask!

[laromurl]

One Piece Fanfiction

Zoro Roronoa x Nila Faurgard (OC)

A/N: part three 😊

Two years and three days have passed since Nila was sent to the Monk Village by Kuma. Within three days she made up her mind to stay there and get stronger thinking she wasn't going to see the Straw Hats every again but of course their captain made the news again. He was involved in a big war between the Marines and Whitbeard's crew and allies over Poratagas D. Ace's life. He was dead now. Along with Whitebeard.

For months, shock had overtaken Nila. Ace had been a dear friend to her. He had saved her from herself and she couldn't imagine the unbearable pain Luffy had to go through watching his own brother die in front of him.

There was also a message for the Straw Hats in the newspaper. He wanted them to train for two years and three days, after, they were to meet up at Saboady again.

This became awkward for her as the days passed and she got stronger. Was she part of them? Was she suppose to go back?

Luffy had invited her to join but it was under duress.

At the end, she took a chance and sailed out for Saboady. Just her and the only merchant allowed to come to and from the Monk Village, Herito. He was the one who found her at the edge of the Monk Temple. She was passed out and severely injured. At first he thought she was a corpse that had washed to shore but as he was taking her to the cementary she moved and made a noise. He took her to the monks instead and they healed her. She trained with them during the day and worked with the Merchant during the evening.

In his opinion, the young woman was hardworking and strong. She was kind to the children and helped as much as she could but she had her own demons. She was scared of the dark, screaming out for someone named Milo when she was left alone. She also had a strange tendency to wait until everyone ate first before she did or if she wasn't sure, she would made her own food from scratch.

Everyone liked her. She talked about all kinds of islands she's traveled to and the adventures that took her all around. They seemed believable until she presented the idea of staying in the village.

Herito was confused because she always talked about how much being a pirate was fun but he also saw that she was scared of something. He didn't ask about it but accepted her decision until she came across a newspaper that left her destroyed.

There was a period of two months where she wouldn't eat anything. She helped and worked and trained but she was different. She had no energy. Her golems wouldn't grow bigger than three feet no matter how much she tried. She was sad and emotionally exhausted. Then she left for one day and when she returned she was back to her old ways. Noone knows where she went or what happened and she won't say.

Now she seemed so free. Her golems could grow up to be giants. She trained nonstop and became incredibly strong. She harnessed and strengthened her life force.

He was sad to see her go but excited where her adventures were going to take her.

"Ah! Herito look!" She bounced up and down pointing at the incoming Island of Saboady. It was a big island with the bubbles still floating around it. Her heart was pounding inside her chest, small golems were starting to form beneath her hands from the wood of the boat.

"Nila be careful you might tip over." Herito sheepishly reminded her.

"Oh!" She stepped back and pulled out gloves from her coat pocket as the golems returned to their place.

She saw where Sunny was and she saw heads of people running about. The boat seemed to be coated in some sort of bubble stuff. She didn't know much but she didn't question it specially when she saw a tuft of green hair jumping about on the boat. They rowed closer and she heard the gunshots and screaming, presumably from Navy soldiers. This was the moment of truth. Would They accept her?

She tried to call out for Sanji who was the closest but her mouth dried up. She was afraid of rejection. She was afraid...

"Oi! Nila!" It was Luffy. He was on the ledge standing over to look, holding his hat. "Come on! We have been waiting for you!"

This made her smile. Her whole being shook and she turned to Herito almost for permission. He laughed nodding for her to go on. "Be careful out there child and write to us every once in a while. We snuck a log in for you." He winked.

She didn't know what to say so she threw her arns around him as a last goodbye. "Thank you." She whispered. She parted with tears in her eyes rejoicing for everything she went through the last two years. She jumped into the boat with Luffy and her friends as it sailed out. With a last look she and Herito said their goodbyes.

They sailed out plunging into the sea until they couldn't hear the Navy coming after them. The whole ship was enveloped in a bubble giving them air to breath and finally some quiet.

They said their hellos. Everyone exchanging short hugs until she saw Zoro. He saw her first and immediately something clicked in his brain. She had changed so much. She looked at ease, happier, freer. She had cut her hair too, down to her chin and most of the white patches of hair had disappeared.

He wondered if she thought about him. About what she did for him the last time they saw eachother. He thought about her almost nonstop when he was training. He wanted to become stronger so that she would never have to feel like she had die for him.

Nila smiled at him so wide he swore his heart was about to jump out. It was so strange what was happening to him and so quickly. He didn't understand it but he didn't have to at the moment. They had time together now that she was part of them.

They went deeper and deeper underwater. Adventures of the past two years were exchanged briefly and chopper was the first to ask about her new wooden arm. She relayed the story about the monks carving her a new arm and showing her how to use her power do make it move.

Most of the men got together to play a cardgame while Robin was in the upper deck reading a history book.

Brook was telling Nila all about the fame he recieved and she was listening enthusiastically. She loved listening to their stories. Zoro would glance at her every so often from where ever he was to make sure she wasn't putting a front. She listened with genuine jubilee to everything everyone had to say. She hugged Chopper more often than not, and played roughly with Luffy and Usopp. It was like she was a child. The cold demeanor was nowhere. The untrusting looks had dissapeared. Her sneers to him were just gone.

She was beautiful.

After defeating the swamp guy and locking him in a barrel. The crew fell back on deck to make sure everyone was alright. They were until they lost Sanji, Zoro, and Luffy because of a Kraken! They were scared, specially when they were attacked by the Flying Dutchman and some giant man baby looking fish.

They were saved just in time and they got to the Fishman Island just before they became grilled meat by a volcano eruption. Unfortunately, they were seperating entering the second bubble to Fishman island.

Nila flew out of the boat into the sea of the island bubble. She couldn't swim and through all the commotion lost sight of the rest of the crew. She thrashed through the water but became weaker and weaker by the second. She tried summoning strength to grip something...anything! But became too dizzy to even form a proper thought. She passed out praying the others were alright.

Zoro swam towards the shore he could see but glanced back incase he saw one of the devil fruit eaters floating about. He did. Nila! She was already unconcious. He hurried to her grabbing her arm and pulling her up.

She put up alot of resistance. He didn't remember her being this heavy so it must be the water pulling her down. He fought against it knowing if he didn't she would die this time for sure.

With one extra push he brought her up to shore, pushing her body up and then himself beside her. He coughed up water before turning her to her side and easentially burping her to try and make her throw up.

It didn't work. She wasn't breathing and he was beginning to panic. He layed her on her back again and murmured an apology before giving her mouth to mouth followed by CPR. After a few seconds, Nila gasped and lunged forward throwing up all the salt water in her lungs.

"Nila. Nila." Zoro grabbed her for support as she coughed. "Are you okay?"

She nodded and waved her hand. It took her a a minute to get her voice back but she smiled and thanked him. "I thought I was dead." She laughed and grabbed hin. He laughed with her relieved that she was alive. "My hero." She chuckled. He laughed louder likeing that nickname.

Their enjoyment was cut short when fishmen in armor and swords surrounded them. Nila fell back. "Ah geez, can we at least take a five minute break?" She blew out. She dug her fingers into the sand creating four golems her size, surrounding them.

She stood up ready to order the golems but one of the guards stepped forwards. "Step down now or we will arrest you! You are trespassing in the royal castle!"

Nila looked up and found a great big castle with Dragon statues around it. She looked at Zoro who was ready to fight and shook her head, dropping the golems. "We are in their land." Then she leaned in towards Zoro. "By the way, don't tell them my last name."

Zoro was confused.

"We surrender. We are the Straw Hats pirates." She lifted her hands up. Her demeanor changing seemingly back to before the two years but only in her body. When she looked at him for cooperation, her eyes had the same carefree eyes.

He humphed not liking that he couldn't beat someone up but her sudden change had shaken him from any battle ready mind. He followed her suit.

[mamawolfblood]

Chap 9 paitball deer hunting

Chris: Last time on Total Drama Island… Both teams set out on a canoe trip to deadly Boney Island. Cody hit on Gwen about eighty times, but he made up for it by setting her up with the guy she actually wanted to hang with, Trent. Good strategy, bro! There were winners. And there were losers. Also known as, The Gophers. The last marshmallow was set to go to either Izzy or Lindsay, but the RCMP swooped in and bam! Izzy hightailed it outta there! [laughs] Man, I knew the girl was nuts, but I didn’t know she was totally insane! However, one Gopher may have secretly done something even crazier when she brought home a creepy stick statue voodoo thingy from the deadly haunted island. Will Beth live to regret her souvenir? And can my teeth possibly get any whiter?[ding] Find out here on Total. Drama. Island!

Iris pov

I was writing all possibilities on how to get back at Duncan. I also was writing all out comes trying to pick the best strategy. All good outcomes points to being nice to Harold. I was about to put my jurnal away, when the sound of a helicopter scared the shit out of me. 

Duncan[waking up,scarred]: Oh! Hit the deck! They’re coming, man! They found us!

Leshawna: Huh! Ooh! Ugh! Okay, that dude is really starting to get on my last nerve!

Heather [after she yawns]: Whatever. He just loves ruining our mornings. Beth, Lindsay, go warm up the shower for me. Now! And remember…

Beth: Not too hot this time, I know. [yawns]

The girls were waiting for Heather to be done in the bathroom. Gwen and I go in the woods to pee. "So you don't get any special treatment from Chris do you?" Gwen asked. "He has tried but I turn him down." I said handing her Toilet paper. "One would think you would considering how we are treated." She said handing it back. "Exactly why I don't want special treatment. It just wouldn't be fair." I said before walking back with her. 

Chris [through loudspeaker]: I hope you’re ready for the most challenging challenge yet. Breakfast in three minutes at the campfire pit. Gwen and I sit together chatting waiting for everyone.

Chris: Are you ready for today’s extreme max impact challenge?!

Owen: We are ready! [laughs]

Chris: Incoming! This… is breakfast.

Heather: No, breakfast is crepes, croissants, even Chef’s crappy burnt eggs.

Owen: Beans beans, they’re good for your heart, the more you eat, the more you–[ a can thunks at his head]

Chris: Today’s challenge is about survival. We’re going hunting.

Duncan: That’s more like it.

Harold: Isn’t that a paintball gun?

Chris: Why yes Harold. It is.

Harold grunts

Bridgette: So we won’t be killing anything?

Chris: Negatory. This is the first ever paintball deer hunt. I’ll announce the team’s once we get into the woods. So… finish breaky.

Owen [burps loudly] : Ahhh… Got any more?

Chris: And now for the team breakdowns. The Killer Bass hunters are… Harold, Geoff, and Bridgette. Locked and loaded with bass blue paint. And using orange paint are the Gopher hunters, Leshawna, Beth, Owen, Lindsay.

Owen: Whahoo! This is awesome, man!

Chris: You also get these stylin’ glasses and wicked camo caps! The rest of you are now deer. Here are your antlers, noses, and little whitetails.

Heather: Yeah right. I am not wearing that.

Duncan: There is no way I’m a deer.

Chris: Take these off and your team is toast.

Owen chuckles.

Duncan: What are you lookin’ at?

Owen: Oh, nothing. Bambi.[snaps Duncan's tail]

Duncan: You’d better be a good shot, tubby.

Courtney: At least we get a headstart.

DJ: I don’t know about y’all. But I’m outta here.

"Guys we should split up. If we hang in a group better chance of us losing." I said making everyone nod. While hiding in the bush I spot Heather being guarded by Beth and Lindsay. "Hey Beth Lindsay your hunters. Heather is a deer shoot her. I mean she is a mean two face bitch. Don't you want some payback Beth." And like that paitballs flew at Heather. It turned into a paint war with everyone. I hung low to the ground

Courtney: Why do you smell worse than usual?

Duncan: It’s Owen’s stink. It’s following me around like my juvenile record.

Courtney: Well, I’m heading back. This stupid game must be almost over by now.

Duncan: You’re going the wrong way.

Courtney: Excuse me? I was a CIT, remember? I have a natural sense of direction. Camp is this way.

Duncan: No. It’s that way.[ their antlers smack into each other]

Courtney and Duncan grunt.

Courtney: Very funny. Now let me go!

Duncan: Hey princess, this isn’t my idea of fun either.

Courtney: Great, Duncan.

(Confessional: Duncan)

Duncan: Sure, we could’ve taken those lame-o antler hats off, but Miss Counselor-in-Training would probably go blab to Chris and have us disqualified. And hey, I kinda liked it.

(Confessional off)

Courtney: Now what?!

Duncan: You wanna make out?

Beth, Heather, and Leshawna: [indistingueble] Ow! Ow!

Bridgette: This is really fun!

Chris [through loudspeaker] :Attention human wildlife and hunters! Please report back to camp! It’s time to show your hides and tally up the scores!

Cut to the campers standing in line.

Chris: Tsk tsk tsk. Stealing from Chef. Eating chips in the woods. Being mauled by bears. Do you know what I see here? I see a very undisciplined group. I see a disgraceful mess. I see a massive waste of paint product. And I have to say… that was awesome! Haha! When you guys opened fire on your own team? Wicked TV, guys.

Harold: Hey. Where are Duncan and Courtney?

Courtney and Duncan grunt as they come in,still tangled.

I had to keep my composure seeing them like that. I am definitely going to make them pay

Gwen: Oh, this is too much.

Owen [ in between laughs]: Duncan, you sly dog, you!

Duncan: The girl can’t keep her antlers off me. [grunts] [falsetto] Can’t even bend over.

Chris: Easy, Courtney. Our medical tent is really only equipped for one at a time and Cody’s pretty messed up. Well, since three members of the Gophers are dripping in paint… Make that four members. And some of them aren’t even deer. I think we have our winner![Bridgette, DJ, Harold, and Sadie cheer] You’re off to a hunting camp shindig!

Duncan and Geoff: Whoo!

Duncan groans

Chris: Gophers, I’ll see you at the campfire ceremony. Again.

Heather: I mean, seriously. Twice in a row? What is wrong with you people? I can’t wait to see Beth get kicked off. I just wish I could vote off two campers at once.

(Confessionals: Cody, Owen, Leshawna and Lindsay)

Cody: Heheheh. Okay. I know I got mauled by a bear, but I’m feeling good about this. I’m a quick healer. And besides, Heather’s as mean as a snake, dude. Her own team shot her like eighteen times. They’ll never kick me off.

Leshawna: Who did I vote for? Well, Heather’s been a pain in my butt from day one. But I gotta say… Cody.

Owen: Yeah, that Cody. Not so useful in challenges anymore.

Lindsay: I totally admire Belle for standing up to Heather, but she’s so dead now.

(confessionals off)

at the elimination cerimony.

Chris: There are only eight marshmallows on this plate. When I call your name, come up and claim your marshmallow. The camper–

Gwen [quickly]: Who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately return The Dock of Shame, catch the Boat of Losers and leave. Can’t we just get this over with?

Chris: Fine. Whatever. Spoil the moment. Trent. Iris. Lindsay. Owen. Gwen. Leshawna. Beth. Campers, this is the final marshmallow tonight. Heather.

Heather: You are all lucky, okay? Very lucky!

Chris: Cody. The Dock of Shame awaits, bro. I guess we can help you get there.

Beth: I’ll do it![Pushes Cody to the dock of shame]

Gwen: Bye, Cody!

Leshawna: Seeya, buddy!

Owen: Take care, dude.

Cody tries to speak but i's muffled.

Beth: I know. I can’t believe I stood up to her, either.[Cody tries to speak but its muffled] I’m gonna be okay, don’t worry about me. And I still have my good luck charm! See? I got it from Boney Island last week. Cool, huh? Bye Cody. Take care. [kisses Cody's head]

Cody muffled screams before falling into the water with a splash

[allenmendezsr]

The Acid Reflux Strategy

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/the-acid-reflux-strategy/

The Acid Reflux Strategy

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“So, you thought your acid reflux was just innocent annoyance?” my doctor asked.

Then, looking me straight in the eyes, he added…

“You were DEAD wrong!”

I wasn’t sure if the pun was intended.

My wife’s shivering hands squeezed mine as tears ran down her chin.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get through this,” she sobbed…maybe more to convince herself than me.

Frozen with fear, I couldn’t speak.

Only one thought circled through my mind: “I’m too young to die!”

You don’t anticipate this kind of shock when seeking medical advice for acid reflux, do you?

Yes, heartburn makes your life miserable. It robs you of sleep, ruins your meals, and embarrasses you with burp and gas outbursts in the worst places.

At worst, you fear ulcer, which is, of course, horrible.

But death — you don’t expect that!

If you frequently suffer heartburn, you should, however, prepare for the worst.

I tell you why…

Not being able to sleep that night, I googled the health risks of acid reflux.

What I found was terrifying.:

Recent studies prove that acid reflux is the number one cause of not just one or two, but SIX types of fatal cancers (4).

And we’re talking strong connection.

Heartburn increases your risk of…

cancer in the larynx by 286%;

cancer in the hypopharynx by 254%;

cancer in the oropharynx by 247%;

cancer in the tonsils by 214%;

cancer in the nasopharynx by 204%;

cancer in the sinuses by 140%.

Sum it all up, and you’re 1345% more likely to get one of these six cancers than does a person who doesn’t suffer heartburn.

One thousand, three hundred, and forty five percent.

That’s a lot!

“Acid reflux is more dangerous than smoking,”

…the researchers concluded.

Millions of people die every year because they don’t take their heartburn seriously enough.

And there I was, ready to be another name on a grave.

It wasn’t my fault, really!

I’ll explain in a second how I finally got rid of my acid reflux using a simple home remedy that takes only four or five minutes to make.

You most likely have all the ingredients sitting in your kitchen. So, if you want, you should be able to take the first sip within 10 minutes from NOW.

Had I known about this remedy before, I would not have received the dire news that day.

But with what I knew then, I couldn’t have done much differently!

Like most people suffering heartburn, I was loading up on proton pump inhibitors (PPI), medications thinking they were safe.

Well, they are not.

According to a study from Washington University in St. Louis, PPI drugs increase your risk of dying within a year by a terrifying 50% (1).

Another study published in the Journal of the American Heart Association (2) proved that PPI pills drastically increase your risk of stroke.

And, in a new study from the University of Hong Kong and University College London published in the peer-reviewed journal Gut (6), these same drugs were found to double your risk of stomach cancer.

Maybe worst of all: They also double your risk of kidney disease.

Hey, I can live with stomach ulcers, but I can’t live without my kidneys or stomach.

Other heartburn medications, such as antacids and H2 blockers (such as Tums and Zantac), may or may not be a little bit safer. However, numerous studies have also found a row of life-threatening side effects from these drugs.

Putting it bluntly:

It’s a matter of life and death that you naturally address your acid reflux immediately today.

Don’t put it off another day!

Plus, these drugs cost a fortune…

When my insurance company stopped copaying for my medication a few years back, I had to shuffle out over $5000 a year for heartburn prescriptions.

Even after I turned to cheaper over-the-counter PPIs, I was still paying close to $2000 a year for drugs that were actually murdering me.

Okay, finally, some good news:

Additional testing luckily revealed that my cancer diagnosis was a false alarm — “false positive,” they called it.

At that point, however, I was informed enough to realize I had gotten a second chance at life…

…but it wouldn’t last long unless I cured my acid reflux as soon as possible.

PPI and other heartburn medications only temporarily mask the symptoms. They do not cure your acid reflux or GERD.

Therefore, they do nothing to protect you from dying from cancer and other causes.

In fact, they drastically increase your risk of dying.

So, I knew I had to handle my acid reflux naturally…

…which is easier said than done.

The Internet is full of well-meaning tips for acid reflux.

I’m sure you’ve tried everything from baking soda to just carrying around Tums everywhere you go.

When other common wisdom, such as sleeping sitting up, not eating spicy food, and avoiding sugar, chocolates, and tomato sauce, is to no avail, you are running out of options, aren’t you?

So, you get what I was facing.

Finally, my luck changed when a friend referred me to a man named Scott Davis.

Scott is somewhat of a legend in the natural health research field.

He has come up with solutions for numerous health issues the traditional medical system has no answer for.

Among those are acid reflux and GERD disease.

At the age of 84, he dedicated most of his time to research and was not seeing many people in person.

In fact, he seemed quite irritated having to deal with such a mundane issue as my acid reflux.

You see, for someone like you and me, who have endured the pain of acid reflux for so long, curing it deserves the Nobel Prize and its million-dollar award, right?

Scott, however, had helped so many people with heartburn, it had become an old hat.

It wasn’t a challenge for him anymore.

He only helped me because my friend was Scott’s nephew, and really expressed how desperate I was.

Well, he did charge me $200 for a 30-minute session, which I, at that time, thought was kind of a rip-off.

That is until I realized how effective his method is.

In fact, this is the best investment I have made…

…not just because of my health but also because I’m saving almost $2000 every year in medications.

I don’t mind effortlessly banking extra 2000 bucks a year… Would you?

That’s one 1000% return on investment every year — beat that, Wall Street.

But obviously, saving my health and life was my only motivation that day.

Scott told me that the three-step system he had developed works for pretty much anyone, and if I followed it in detail, it would help me too.

“Let’s see,” I thought to myself, quite skeptical.

As Scott gently shuffled me out the door, he gave me a printout of 43 pages listing the three steps he wanted me to take.

Part one was his “quick fix,” – including his simple acid reflux remedy.

I could make the remedy right away, as it included only three ingredients I already had in my kitchen.

I was amazed to feel the pain melt away!

That night, I slept through without any bloating, burbling, or throat burning for the first time in decades.

Imagine the joy of waking up the next day feeling great. No gasping for air and spitting up acid before breakfast.

I made the formula again in the morning, and the whole day passed without any reflux.

This was great!

Several days and nights passed without any heartburn issues. I drank a glass of the formula two to three times a day.

And it was keeping my stomach in great shape.

Sometimes, I would add one or two of the extra herbs Scott recommended to boost the effectiveness of his remedy even further.

Herbs number six and nine on his list were especially effective, and I could get them from any supermarket along with the other ingredients.

The best part was being able to eat and drink anything I wanted (even fattening and heavy comfort food, which can really cause heartburn).

I could have coffee in the morning, a glass of red wine in the evening, and even a bit of spicy food for lunch (I didn’t dare try spicy for dinner.).

Heck, I had even forgotten that a sip of Bourbon wasn’t supposed to be painful.

All I did was make sure that I had a shot of Scott’s remedy when I knew I was going to eat or drink something that I shouldn’t.

Every day, I felt powerful and full of energy and focus.

This was amazing because I had tried literally hundreds of home remedy recipes before I met Scott.

The Internet is full of those recipes.

I’m sure Scott’s remedy has been ripped off somewhere (although I haven’t seen it anywhere else). But you’d have to literally go through thousands of failures before finding it (if you ever do).

Some of those online remedies I tried helped a little for a few days, but they always stopped working.

Others made my pain worse.

Scott’s remedy has never failed me.

That’s except when I failed Scott!

What do I mean by “failing Scott?”

You know what happens when we get a good thing going. We too quickly forget the hard times.

And, little by little, I began to forget taking the remedy.

I would run out of the ingredients or forget to take it with me when traveling.

Or, most idiotic of it all: Sometimes, I thought I didn’t have five minutes to spare to make it.

Imagine having a remedy that you know would eliminate your acid reflux every time, and you just decide in your mind that it’s not worth five minutes to make it.

Well, my brain is obviously not the brightest.

And that was okay for a few days…

…until one night, when the reflux assaulted me with full force again.

As luck would have it — it was exactly a night spent in a hotel, where I had none of the ingredients needed.

Worst night of my life!

Most of it was spent with my head in the toilet.

That’s when I got it:

Just like prescription medications, the remedy was dealing only with the symptoms.

It is, of course, natural and not causing any side effects.

But no matter how effective it was, it wasn’t curing my acid reflux.

I had promised Scott not to get stuck with the remedy and also take the two other steps in his system.

Well, this night reminded me of that promise.

And the hours that passed before I could get to a supermarket and buy the ingredients for the formula nailed that memory in deeply.

When I got home, I immediately began working Scott’s program for real.

The next step was to give my stomach a break.

It wasn’t enough to use the mixture that soothed my stomach.

I actually had to cut out the foods that were triggering it.

Scott had given me a list of foods to look out for, followed by a long list of delicious foods that are good and soothing for the stomach.

I got it all wrong before.

Okay, I knew about sugar, spicy foods, tomatoes, and many of the other obvious trigger foods.

But I had no idea about most of the things on Scott’s lists.

And here is the thing nobody tells you about acid reflux diets:

It is NOT about avoiding certain TYPES of foods.

It’s the food combinations in your meals that are much more important.

Scott taught me six simple fundamentals for food combination for acid reflux.

Using these fundamentals, I’m actually able to eat lots of foods that previously would have caused terrible bloating attacks.

I just avoid combining these “bad foods” with other foods that promote heartburn.

And finally, the third step…

The huge misunderstanding about stress and acid reflux:

You know the saying: “having a knot in the stomach” when someone is stressed or in dread.

It’s no wonder because when you are stressed or anxious, you feel it in your guts, right?

It’s like your intestines are twisted and turned?

Now, when acid reflux bloats your stomach, it tricks your body into thinking you’re under major stress — even when there is nothing to stress about (other than the pain, of course).

This triggers your brain to release a ton of stress hormones. This causes you to feel even more stressed, which again gives you that knot-in-the-stomach feeling and triggers acid reflux.

It’s a vicious circle of heartburn and stress.

That’s why traditional stress management doesn’t ease acid reflux.

Scott, meanwhile, taught me four powerful techniques, each of which taking only two to three minutes and focuses on the mind/stomach relationship.

I began using these techniques anytime I sensed a small tension in my stomach.

And the results were remarkable:

Over and over again, tensions that would have transformed into full-blown reflux before would melt away as I did the stress release exercises.

All I was left with were this great energy flow and light joy in my guts.

Scott is phenomenal!

Combining Scott’s simple mixture, his food plan, and his easy stress relief techniques when needed gave my guts a much-needed rest.

Over the coming weeks, I began experiencing a flow of energy in my guts that I hadn’t felt before.

The heaviness and pressure I would usually have after eating were gone.

Instead, I felt uplifted and energized.

At some point, choosing the right food and food combination became second nature. I don’t even think about it anymore.

Plus, it doesn’t matter if I cheat a little once in a while. It doesn’t send me into full-blown heartburn.

When going out to eat and I know I’m going to consume something I shouldn’t, I take four or five minutes to brew up Scott’s remedy and experience no heartburn problems.

Best of all: I feel like a normal person again.

It’s such a relief not dreading going out with friends because you are that weird guy who can’t eat or drink the same as others.

I can order normally without having to interrogate the waiter about the ingredients in the food.

And I can have a drink or two without fretting the night.

Now, it’s your turn…

Recently, Scott began working with natural health publishing company Blue Heron Health News to spread his knowledge.

They published the same three-step strategy Scott gave me:

Take the simple home remedy (plus the 11 herbs that supercharge it) to stop acid reflux in its tracks.

Identify the foods and the food combinations that trigger acid reflux.

Address the “knot in the stomach” using simple stress relief techniques.

In addition, he included a chapter specifically focused on pregnant women and acid reflux.

Another chapter focuses on infants and children experiencing heartburn.

I highly recommend Scott’s strategy for anyone suffering from acid reflux, GERD, or heartburn.

So, how much does Scott’s Acid Reflux Strategy cost?

The icing on the cake:

Unless you completely eliminate your acid reflux, heartburn, GERD, or whatever else you call it, you end up paying NOTHING…

..unlike dangerous prescriptions or medications that suck $3000, $5000, or even $8000 every year (and attempt to murder you in the process),

…cheaper, over-the-counter versions digging you into a $1000–$2000-hole year after year—and actually make you sick,

…or even natural remedies that may not cause side effects but most often don’t help either (and rob you of several hundreds or thousands in the process).

Not even the $200 Scott charges for a 30-minute session (if you are lucky enough to get one).

Nope.

As much as Scott knows how effective his system is, he doesn’t want to sell it to anyone unless he’s 100% sure it will help them.

After all, you are not wasting his personal time like I was.

Even though he that knows you…

might be spending your life savings on dangerous, ineffective herbs and medications

 are at tremendous risk of dying from cancer and liver damage due to your acid reflux.

are suffering every day and night…

… he still knows that you might hesitate to try his system if you are required to shell out a huge amount of money.

And let’s be honest…

I’m sure Scott could provide you with hundreds of testimonials from people who had similar results as I did, but how do you know whether they’re true?

He could also bore you with thousands of pages of scientific studies proving different aspects of his acid reflux strategy, but you might still doubt it will work for you.

The only way you can find out for sure whether Scott’s three-step strategy will work for your acid reflux is if you try it out for yourself.

So…

Here is how you can try the Acid Reflux Strategy for free:

After you click the button below, you’ll be charged a small, one-time, fully refundable deposit.

I think that’s fair, as that is your commitment to giving Scott’s strategy your best shot. Without it, this would just be another one of those free online information nobody gives any weight to.

It also guarantees that Scott gets a little gratitude from those who benefit from his strategy. And he does deserve some gratitude if he helps you heal your acid reflux, doesn’t he?

Okay…

Immediately after you submit your deposit, you’ll be redirected to a page where you get full access to Scott’s strategy.

Start by making the simple home remedy.

You most likely have all the ingredients in your kitchen already.

So, within 10 minutes from NOW, you can have your first sip.

Imagine the relief if your acid reflux was gone TODAY!

If you would sleep through the night without gasping for air, stomach cramps, or throat burning and wake up without upset stomach burping (or even throwing up)…

Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Whether you experience complete relief tonight or not, I recommend you drink Scott’s remedy every day for a few days.

Then, you can move on to steps two and three in his strategy.

Now, if you don’t experience the same amazing results as I did, or if you’re, for whatever reason, not completely thrilled with the strategy (Maybe you don’t like the font type.), then I’m truly sorry.

In that case, just send the team at Blue Heron Health News a quick email, and they’ll immediately refund your deposit. No questions asked.

You can use the contact link at the bottom of this page or reply to the confirmation email you will receive with your order.

Scott Davis and Blue Heron Health News put their +40 years of great reputation in the natural health biz on the line, guaranteeing you will be thrilled with either your order or refund.

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Why?

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1300%

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[kootenaygoon]

“The boy in the bassinet”

This is a sad story, but also a beautiful one.

Beneath the harsh glare of the midnight moon, late in the summer of 1898, a young woman launched a rickety rowboat off the sandy shoreline of Adams Lake. Nestled securely in the bow was her only son, a hearty infant who squawked delighted at the night sky as she struggled with the oars.

A mother’s love is a mysterious, inexplicable thing, and we will never know for sure what exactly inspired this young woman to take that fateful late night voyage. She was flush with youth, but also heartbroken, and convinced there was only one way to ensure a prosperous future for her progeny. The whispering wind had carried her here, and now it was the lapping waves that she put her faith in. The currents, she trusted, would take her where she needed to be.

After rowing through sheet after sheet of dancing mist, out into the middle of the lake, she help up her lantern to illuminate the blackness surrounding her. She couldn’t see shore in any direction as the boat swayed and rocked beneath her bare feet. Reaching into the the cool waters with one hand, she wondered if she would have the strength to go through with her plan. If she allowed herself to doubt, to fear, then she might be tempted to turn the boat around. Instead she decided to trust her instincts, and the wise voices groaning stoically from the trees, and put her faith in a force much more powerful than herself.

Less than a year earlier she’d been living as a healer and shaman, resolute in her solitary status, when she happened upon a young trapper en route to the Yukon. Men of all stripes were flooding north for the Gold Rush, all possessed by the same delusion, and his grandiose dreams were no different. She loved the way he told stories, though, how he conjured up visions of the future and rhapsodized about their imagined family. Late at night in her teepee she would lay in his snoring arms and wonder if he actually believed his own pretty lies.

By the time her pregnancy was apparent to those around her the strapping trapper had been gone for months. As the seasons changed and her belly swelled, the mother sometimes wondered if he hadn’t been some sort of apparition, a supernatural trick. Was he even human, really? And would he ever return to meet the child he left inside her?

As the woman scanned the darkness, her dress whipping lazily around her shins, she reflected on everything that had brought her to this moment. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her son—quite the opposite! Somewhere during her pregnancy she’d become filled with a holy conviction that her son had a special destiny ahead of him, that he’d been born on the mouth of the Adams River for some preordained purpose. It would break her heart all over again, saying goodbye to him, but that’s what she had to do.

The boy burped at the front of the boat, batting his tiny fists. Onshore he’d been asleep, but the rocking of the waves had awoken him. The wind was beginning to gust, the air was thick with moisture, and all around them the shadows swirled. The mother crouched down to his bassinet and ran one wet finger across his forehead, pushing back a tiny forelock of blond hair.

“You may forget me, sweet child, but I will never forget you. The journey in front of you is yours alone, but my spirit will follow as long as you live. You’re a part of me, just as I’m a part of you.”

With these words she hoisted the bassinet, which she’d constructed from twigs and branches from the forest surrounding her hermitage, and lowered it into the black water beside the rowboat. Her son giggled and spat, lolling his head from one side to the other. He was exactly three months old as his mother took a deep, tortured sigh and released her grip. Tears free-flowed down her cheeks, dribbling on to his face and chest.

“Goodbye, my boy.”

Almost immediately the current took ahold of the bassinet, sweeping him into the mist and out of sight. Legend says the mother instantly regretted her decision, that she spent the remainder of that night desperately searching through the fog, shouting out his birth name. Even to this day boaters report hearing her mournful ululations echo across the water. Had the spirits tricked her? Had the universe used her as a mere vessel, only to snatch away the fruits of her labour? Lightning streaked across the sky as she shrieked, her hair hanging around her face in wet tangles, and she leapt into the icy waters to be never seen again. Each person must decide for themselves if they believe she eventually found peace, deep below the surface, among the lake spirits of lore.

Early the next morning, as a fiery red sun appeared burning on the horizon, the boy’s bassinet drifted past a logging operation at the base of Adams Lake. It swirled across the surface, bumping once or twice against some jutting rocks near shore, then bobbed past a quartet of loggers who were still drinking from the night before. They were hunched over a card game, chugging whiskey and smoking hand-rolled cigarillos. None of them thought to glance out in the direction of the lake, where a large boom of bundled logs was affixed to a piling. That was the next shipment to send downriver, but it was still hours before they had to clock in. The boy drifted by listening to the cacophony of their barbarous voices.

Eventually the bassinet began to pick up speed. The lake was constricting as it wound down towards the choke-point where it transitioned to Lower Adams River. An eagle lazy-flapped overhead, circling the bassinet, then landed on a towering perch to oversee the boy’s passage. It had gotten used to human habitation but had never seen an infant before. Curious, it decided to swoop low to the surface for a better look. The boy screamed in excitement as it neared, startling the proud bird, but eventually it decided the creature meant him no harm. The eagle landed on the edge of the bassinet and looked the boy full in the face, seeing that he was blameless and vulnerable. It doubted this child could survive the serpentine trip down to the Shuswap without help.

By this point the river was thick-packed with salmon in the midst of spawning season, and the surface of the water was the colour of blood. The eagle wrenched one from the river and viciously pecked it apart, shoving the boy shreds of fish flesh with its beak. The boy squished the salmon between his fingers and smeared it on his face, but he ate too. The eagle kept dismembering the fish and the boy kept eating until there was nothing left but a sloppy skeleton. The eagle marvelled at the child’s appetite and once again took wing, following the boy’s progress at a distance. The little raft continued its lackadaisical descent, getting pulled into eddies then swept through roiling waves. Through it all the little passenger never cried, or wailed for his mother, but rather hooted and laughed through the rollicking chaos of the rapids.

Finally, by that afternoon, the boy’s bassinet began the descent towards the Adams River Gorge. Cliff faces dotted with pictographs jutted out of the foliage, and the river narrowed as the current continued to pick up speed. A team of Indigenous fishermen were perched on the rock ledges brandishing long-handled dip nets, and they were scooping bucketfuls of fish from the raging, watery chaos below. They sang together, cheering with each new haul, as the women and children sorted the newly caught fish at a small beach downstream. The food they harvested would be used year-round to sustain their population, and it was these salmon that made their entire lifestyle possible. One of the fishermen was taking a momentary break, dangling his feet off the cliff, when he saw the boy approaching the canyon. At first he thought it was some sort of animal, maybe the head of a swimming bear, but eventually he could make out the baby’s features and knew the canyon would mean a quick death for him.

That man’s name may be lost to history, but what he did next will be long remembered. He threw aside his fishing equipment and sprinted to an outcropping upstream, a hundred feet above the boy, then hurled himself into the current. His people had been fishing in the canyon for 10,000 years and knew every nuance and rock ledge, every cave and crack and fissure, but nobody had ever jumped from that spot. The other fisherman cried out in alarm, confused, as their compatriot hurtled through the air. What was he thinking? Didn’t he know the water level was too high, the rapid too powerful? The men were dumb-founded at first, wondering if they had just witnessed an impromptu suicide.

The man reached the bassinet just as a curling wave flipped it, sending the infant sprawling facedown in the water. He took ahold of the kid by one ankle, hoisting him out of the water, as he frantically paddled for shore. His friends were shouting at him now, running down to the river’s edge, reaching out their dip nets to save him. The man knew he could grab ahold of one and save himself, but that would mean letting go of the baby. Instead he rolled on to his back and held the child aloft, like an offering to the sky. He knew that if they could make it through the next thirty seconds there would be calm water waiting for them at the bottom.

Unfortunately, the river had other plans. As he rounded the bend of the canyon the man beheld a beastly wave hungry for carnage. Instinctively he understood, without even processing it, that he was looking at the instrument of his death. The wave was thrashing relentlessly into the cliff wall and sucking everything deep underwater, drunk on destruction. And though he only had a few moments to think, the man knew exactly what he had to accomplish with his final act on this earth. Rearing up with a mighty kick, he swung the baby overhead by the ankle and hurled him towards one of his friends perched on the cliff walls. Within seconds he’d disappeared into the wave, and out of sight, but the baby was giggling content from where he hung in a drooping dip net.

Later that evening the tribe gathered on the beach of the canyon, surrounded by their salmon catch. The man’s lifeless body was carefully arranged in the sand, his arms neatly tucked across his chest. Women wailed and mourned while the men muttered in concerned, angry voices. Who was this child? The man had a wife, and kids, so why would he give his life for some white stranger? Some argued it was a good omen, while others were convinced it was bad. They argued late into the night, standing around their beach fire and fighting about the boy’s fate.

“He came from the river, he should go back to the river!” said one tribe member.

“Who knows how many more lives he could cost us?” asked another.

Finally, a wizened elder named Quaalaout spoke up. For hours she’d stayed silent, listening patiently to the bickering, but everyone quieted once they heard her soft whisper of a voice. She was three feet tall, with waist-length white hair, and had been alive for nearly two centuries. She waddled to the edge of the flames and looked at all the rapt faces staring out of the darkness at her, then she sighed. She’d long wondered why the Creator had kept her alive this long, why she’d been waiting all these years on the shores of Adams River, and now she understood.

“We have built our lives around this river. It nourishes us, it sustains us, it keeps us going from one generation to the next. Because of the river, we need never thirst. We were hungry, so the river brought us salmon. Men live and die, but the river remains. As a people we have always put our faith in the river, and we must put our faith in it now. We know not its reasons, but it has brought us one man and taken another. Who are we to question its reasons?” she said.

Quaalaout then reached down to lift the baby, which was nearly half her size. She grunted from the weight, then positioned him on her hip. She took a long, quiet moment before saying anything else. Hundreds of faces stared out at her. Then she explained that the boy would be the newest member of the tribe and would be named “Joe-tsuschecw” — a word that meant “river’s gift” in her language. She heard some murmurings of disapproval, while others chattered excitedly, as she lifted him up for them to see.

“We will call him Shuswap Joe.”

The Kootenay Goon

[altobrandy31-blog]

There Were Zero Things Better This Week Than That Absurdly Historic Klay Game

Welcome to Good Stuff, HuffPost’s weekly recommendation series devoted to the least bad things on and off the internet.

Monday night, I found myself in the very top row of the United Center in Chicago, where I bore witness to an absurd bit of history, and what is quite possibly the most entertaining version of basketball ever invented: A Klay Game.

The game itself wasn’t that good, by normal standards. By the end of the first quarter, the Golden State Warriors had run up a 20-point lead on the hapless and injured Chicago Bulls. By halftime, the Dubs had 92 points and were winning by 40. It was pointless. Except for Klay.

Except for Klay. Thompson, that is, the Warriors’ gunner of two-guard who, up to that point in the season, had been trash. Thompson entered the evening having made just five of his first 36 three-point attempts of the season ― a 14 percent clip that was nearly 30 points below his career average from distance. But on Monday, he reverted to his old, dumb self, which unlike Stephen Curry and Kevin Durant ― his superstar teammates whose dominant nights always feel like reminders that they have absolutely broken basketball ― tends to feel more normal. Klay is the old dude at the gym who uses screens the right way, finds himself in the corner, and pummels you with an endless barrage of buckets ... if that old dude was also 6′6″ and one of the greatest shooters of all time.

He hit his first three less than 90 seconds into the game. By the end of the first quarter, he’d made five more. At halftime, he had 10, and at one point, he had made nine out of 11 threes. He finished the game with 14, setting a single-game NBA record in just 27 minutes on the floor. He had 52 points.

The amazing thing about it, though, wasn’t that he broke the record, but how. A Klay Game is a special phenomenon: on the occasions where Klay isn’t just hot but reaches thermonuclear status, the Warriors’ other superstars cease to even consider themselves a part of the game, and instead funnel the ball to him with a relentless, single-minded focus. So each time a Bulls shot clanked off the rim and landed in the hands of a Golden State player, they looked for Klay. In the corner. At the top of the key. Barely across half-court. It didn’t matter. Curry and Durant were passing up open shots to find him. Draymond Green, on one possession, set five screens in an effort to free Thompson from his defenders. They still got theirs, but the night was Klay’s, and they knew it.

So did the crowd. By the start of the second half, no one was paying attention to the score, or the Bulls. Not even their fans. Each time Klay touched the ball, the crowd urged him to shoot. Each time he did, the air burped with the anticipation that he was about to hit another one. And more often than not, it went in. The Warriors are dumb, and even though its cool in some circles to hate them now, I can’t. Not when they play basketball like this. And not when they can decide, on any given night, to let Klay be Klay, and remind us that there are still endless wonders in an NBA season, even when its ultimate outcome already feels certain. ― Travis Waldron

Kurt Russell As Cool Santa

I don’t really know how to explain the new trailer for “The Christmas Chronicles.” There’s Kurt Russell as cool Santa Claus throwing concerts in prison and bemoaning images on cola cans for making his butt look big. There are very CGI elves who don’t totally look like gremlins, but I wouldn’t want to feed them after midnight. The Netflix movie’s premise seems to revolve ― maybe? ― around the potential death of Christmas, which won’t be saved unless some kids travel around the world with Chris Pratt’s evil dad, who seems more worried about breaking out “Star Wars” references and dunking presents down chimneys. Hmm.

It feels like a Christmas miracle this is happening at all, so I for one will be counting down the days until it arrives in my queue. ― Bill Bradley

WHY IS LIZZO PERFECT?

A Very Good Paperback

Simon & Schuster

I know. I know! This book came out in February. But I missed it then, and this week I finally circled back to the book I’d heard glowing things about for months. If you haven’t read Halliday’s masterfully engineered debut yet, you should do the same thing.

The novel opens on the blossoming romance between Alice, a young editor at a publishing house in New York, and Ezra Blazer, an elderly acclaimed novelist who bears an unmistakeable resemblance to Philip Roth. Also an aspiring writer, Alice soaks up Ezra’s attention and guidance, as he showers her with blackout cookies, rolls of cash to spend at upscale department stores, and sacks of edifying books to read. Rather than fully flipping a narrative so often told from the older male perspective on its head, Halliday relates it from a remove that hovers between clinical and whimsical, as if their relationship is a case file put into the language of a fairy tale.

Then, just as Alice realizes she must choose between her own future as a writer or a real partnership with the ailing Ezra, Halliday throws us into another story. Amar Jaafari, an Iraqi-American economist, has been detained in Heathrow en route to see his brother in Kurdistan. In between dealing with the crushing bureaucracy ― repeated interrogations that cycle through the same questions, vague and inexplicable explanations for his detention ― he reflects on his life, the two countries that have been home to his family, and the violence that has surrounded his brother and other loved ones.

The novel ends with an eerily convincing transcript of a “Desert Island Discs” interview in which Ezra, some ten years on from the start of his relationship with Alice, recommends his all-time favorite songs, reminisces, and flirts with the interviewer.

A dazzling puzzle box of a book, Asymmetry melds ambition and restraint in its exploration of power, artistic imagination, empathy, geopolitics, and love. It’s recently out in paperback, so there’s absolutely no reason not to read it immediately. ― Claire Fallon

A Night of Short Horror Films (By Mostly Women!)

Nitehawk

"Cat Calls" (directed by Kate Dolan)

Every year, Nitehawk Cinema in Brooklyn hosts a short film festival. And every year, Caryn Coleman, director of programming and special projects at the theater, co-curates a midnight showing dedicated to mini horror flicks, the kinds that only require eight to 19 minutes to rattle your already fragile existence and catapult your adrenaline levels in glorious micro waves of fear.

This year’s showing will take place on Thursday, Nov. 8 at 9:30 p.m. And its lineup is like a pleasant middle finger to Jason Blum, a man blithely unaware of the many female directors working in horror today.

“When I read the Jason Blum article I had watched two brand new horror films directed by women in the previous 24 hours,” Coleman told HuffPost. “Genre films by women is nothing new to me or to the many people clued into what’s happening in horror. Therefore, what he said is a prime example of how out of touch certain parts of the film industry establishment are; they are completely unaware of a reality that is right in front of their face simply because they don’t care enough to look.”

Coleman and her co-programmer Sam Zimmerman have paid particular attention to women’s voices at her festival over the years. “This year we’re thrilled that our program not only features 70 percent female directors,” she said, “but that nearly all address the real horror of what it’s like to be a woman in the world.”

Three films to watch at the Shorts Festival’s “Midnite” screening this year are “Rape Card,” “Pumpkin Movie” (“I saw it the night of the Blasey-Ford testimony and it was utterly prescient, couldn’t get it out of my head,” Coleman said), and “Cat Calls.” Tickets are on sale here. ― Katherine Brooks

Rosé In October

Nestled halfway into Quavo’s new album, “Quavo Huncho,” is a track that dares to bring rosé out of the summer slums and into the autumn breeze. Understanding the pink-tinted bubbly should be a year-round affair, “Champagne Rosé” had the rapper “poppin’ bottles” in — gasp! — October. More significantly, he did so with the help of two incredible collaborators. One of them (Cardi B) comes as no surprise; the other (Madonna) is a left-field swerve that proves to be one of the record’s highlights.

Dominating the song with a high-pitched autotune, Madonna’s is the first voice we hear. She stretches “champagne” to three syllables and turns wine into sex the way only she can (“Please drink me up”). Her presence is the yin to Quavo’s full-throated yang, perfectly accentuated by a flute that graces the intoxicating beat. And then, before the four-minute bop ends, Madonna nails a verse that again lets her bend and elongate words with a crisp, clarion cadence: “Let me entertain you / Get inside your vein, too / Intoxicate your brain, ooh / Crazy, what I’ll make you.” It’s a frothy morsel, likely to remain an under-appreciated footnote in all three artists’ repertoires. But listen to it and try not to hit the repeat button a dozen times. You can’t do it. ― Matthew Jacobs

Witch Hunting

Halloween may be over, but witches rule all year long. If you haven’t yet checked out two spooooky witchy reboots ― The CW’s “Charmed” and Netflix’s “Chilling Adventures of Sabrina” ― the time is now. Both series take beloved ’90s shows and turn them into something darker, more complex and more overtly feminist. Neither show is perfect, but they both have done something interesting and timely ― and, dare we say ... magical? Plus, with all the talk of “witch hunting” powerful white men, it’s about damn time we saw some real witchy women get their due. ― Emma Gray

Martha Rosler Forever

In the 1975 video “Semiotics of the Kitchen,” one of multidisciplinary artist Martha Rosler’s most famed works, Rosler stands at a makeshift kitchen station in front of a refrigerator and stove. It looks like a cross between a Rachael Ray cooking demo and a Francesca Woodman photograph.

“Apron,” she says, as she pulls one over her head. “Bowl,” displaying a bowl to the world while pantomiming stirring. “Chopper,” plunging it into the bowl violently. “Egg beater ... fork ... grater,” she continues, rubbing the fork up and down the grater, emitting a jarring racket. She continues down the alphabet, naming different kitchen appliances and simulating their use for the viewer like an alien mimicking domestic rituals. When she picks up the nutcracker, Rosler glares at the viewer while spreading and shutting the tool’s legs with vigor. The video, critiquing the oppressive, domestic roles women are often forced to embody, becomes a jagged dance to the tune of a grating metallic symphony.

This is Rosler’s most well-known piece, but far from the only one worth knowing. A retrospective at the Jewish Museum spans Rosler’s five-decade career. Featuring installations, photographic series, sculpture, and video, the exhibit probes far beyond “Semiotics of the Kitchen” to show us one of the most witty and dogged feminist artists of our time. In one photo collage, blond women snap selfies in a mod mansion as flames blaze outside the windows. In an installation, various women’s lingerie and sleepwear congregate around a white mattress. The cluster of thongs and spanx and granny panties alludes to the stories clothes tell about the women who wear them. Or perhaps just the stories we buy into.

The show opens on Friday, Nov. 2 and is up until March. All feminists, Jews and bad chefs are encouraged to attend. ― Priscilla Frank

The Drawing of Lines

Screenshot

We’re all blessed to have lived long enough to discover that the Gateway Pundit apparently does have a line, and that line’s name is Jacob Wohl. ― Ashley Feinberg

Source: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/there-were-zero-things-better-this-week-than-that-absurdly-historic-klay-game_us_5bdccf96e4b09d43e31efd6c

[whimzea-blog]

Day to Night 1.75/2

Title: Day to Night

Author: whimzea

Pairing: Zane/Heath

Summary: Heath and Zane’s Valentine’s Day is very different than last year’s.

Also up on AO3 here. (I lied. One more little part before the end.)

********

“God, you have gotten fucking awful at bowling!” Heath marveled, watching Zane walk back from throwing his fourth gutterball in a row.

Heath was beating him by almost one hundred points this game, and had beat him by about 150 the first game.

He could make the excuse that he just wasn’t totally focused, but that would ruin the next part of his plan. And mostly, he was focused. He actually just sucked at bowling. But he was having a blast, and Heath seemed to be, too.

“And why do you keep looking at your watch?” Heath asked as Zane looked down at his wrist, again.

“Because-” Zane paused as he saw someone walk through the door to the bowling alley, his arms full of boxes and bags. He grinned. “Because of that guy.”

Heath turned to see where Zane was looking. A young, handsome white guy with sparkling diamond studs was carrying several bags, his pants falling dangerously low off his ass. “Because of a fuckboy? Are you dealing drugs?”

Zane rolled his eyes. “Just wait. You’ll see.”

The guy paused and looked around the bowling alley. He seemed to sigh in relief when he saw Zane waving him over.

He dumped his armful of stuff on their table. Zane handed him some cash, and he left, without a word.

“He was friendly,” Heath said sarcastically.

“He did the job, that’s all I care about,” Zane said, smiling as he looked through everything. It was all there.

Heath sniffed. “Is there food? I’m fucking starving.”

Zane nodded. “Yes. Go bowl your turn and finish off the game while I set it up.”

Heath did, and the final score was 180 to Zane’s whopping 82.

“You never had a chance,” Heath said smugly. “Kicked your ass from here to Florida and back again.”

“Stop bragging and eat,” Zane replied, pointing to a seat where a napkin and ice cold Celsius was set.

Heath sat. “Oh, you so fancy,” he joked, holding up a paper napkin.

“Your first course, sir. Dinner à la Vine.” Zane placed a take-out box in front of Heath, as well as a pair of chopsticks.

Heath grinned as he opened the box and saw ten little sushi rolls- salmon, his favorite- sitting in front of him.

“Ooh, how you zew it?” Heath said, quoting from one of their favorite Vines and pretending to struggle with the chopsticks. Zane laughed, so glad that Heath understood. But of course he did.

“Ooh, I got it!” Heath picked up a destroyed piece of sushi and popped it into his mouth.

“Was that fuckboy from Postmates?” Heath asked a bit later, dipping a roll into a small plastic cup of soy sauce.

“Nah. I paid an Uber driver extra to go pick up everything,” Zane said. “I can’t believe he didn’t fuck anything up.”

“Well, this is damn good sushi,” Heath commented, chewing blissfully.

“It’s just the start,” Zane said mysteriously. Heath raised an eyebrow.

****

“Your second course, sir.” Zane placed a McDonald’s bag in front of Heath.

“Sushi and McDonald’s? You better hope I don’t puke in your car.”

Heath dug into the bag and pulled out a container of fries and a sandwich box. Zane dug into his own bag.

Heath opened his sandwich box. He lifted off the bun.

“Baby…”

“Yeah?” Zane took a bite of his sandwich, smiling ear to ear.

“You forgot my damn pickles!”

Heath yelled it so loud that the couple in the lane next to them looked over. Heath waved.

It was so perfect, and so comfortable. While reminiscing about old Vines, old vlogs, old times, Zane couldn’t believe how seamlessly they had transitioned from being Zane and Heath to...Zane + Heath? Zane <3 Heath? Nothing had changed...except everything had changed.

Heath burped and sat back. “Bitch, I’m getting full. My stomach must be getting smaller or somethin’...I definitely can’t eat as much as I used to.”

“You better have room for one more course,” Zane warned.

“I will, after we hit the arcade,” Heath said, stretching. “I gotta digest. And I’m not done kicking your ass around this entire place yet. I’m thinking...air hockey.”

Zane pulled out his wallet and gave Heath some cash. “Go get tokens. I’ll clean up and meet you in the arcade.”

Heath fanned himself dramatically. “When he gives you money for arcade tokens,” he said dreamily, his hand hand over his heart.

Zane flipped him off and Heath laughed, changing out of his bowling shoes and dropping them off at the counter before jogging towards the other side of the building.

Zane cleaned up their garbage and changed his shoes, but paused before going over to the arcade. He felt like he needed one more trick up his sleeve to make this the best possible night. He had dessert all ready for them, but he felt like he was missing something.

Zane was kind of feeling like a nice blunt would hit the spot, but since Heath had stopped smoking cigarettes, he had sworn off weed too. He said being high made him crave cigarettes even more.

Zane shook his head. Maybe inspiration would hit him again like it had that afternoon.

*****

Heath beat him at three games of air hockey and three games of skee ball, winning a boatload of tickets and bragging rights for the next hundred years.

“Fuck, Heath, are you on ‘roids?” Zane joked as Heath pumped his fist in victory, his basketball shooting skills earning him over two-hundred tickets.

“I guess you just bring out the best in me, baby,” Heath answered in his Heather voice, blowing him a kiss.

“You just like kicking my ass,” Zane corrected him, palming their last two tokens.

“True.” Heath winked.

“We have two tokens left. I’m outta cash. What do you want to play?”

“You pick,” Heath said. “I’m gonna go trade in these tickets.”

Zane chuckled as he watched Heath get in line at the prize counter behind two eight-year-olds.

He looked around the arcade. They had already played their favorites. Everything else was just sort of...lame.

He had almost decided on another game of air hockey when something caught his eye. He glanced at Heath before walking over to it.

It was one of those fortune-telling machines. ZOLTAR, it said in big letters across the front, with an eccentrically-dressed moustached guy inside, his hands hovering over tarot cards and crystals.

Zane had seen one of these at Disney World one time when he was a kid, but had been too afraid of it at the time to play. Now, he was just intrigued. What could a machine tell him about the future? As much as a fortune cookie, he surmised, but still. He was easily roped into these things.

He put in his two tokens. Zoltar’s eyes lit up an eerie blue color, and his hands began moving.

“Zoltar sees very great things in your future.”

Zane shivered. Zoltar’s voice was creepy as fuck.

“But I warn you- do not forget where you began. An abundance of pride will lead to your downfall. If you wish to see deeper into the future, Zoltar will need more...encouragement.”

A piece of paper spit out of the machine, and Zoltar’s eyes went black. Zane guessed “encouragement” meant more tokens.

From his fortune, he expected the lyrics of “Jenny from the Block” to be on the card from the machine. Strangely, though, the side not covered with ZOLTAR and a bunch of symbols was blank, except for one sentence, “You will find what you seek in the mountains.”

The fuck?

“Dude, check this out!” Heath said, suddenly appearing next to him. Zane jumped.

“Fuck, you scared me!”

“Look at this shit!” Heath held up an enormous clear plastic ball. He threw it on the ground, and inside, thousands of tiny lights lit up as it bounced. Zane and Heath, watched, mesmerized, until it finally stopped bouncing.

“That’s dope,” Zane agreed.

“I know, right?!” Zane had never seen a grown man so excited over a toy. It was cute.

“So, what did you spend your tokens on?” Heath asked. He looked at ZOLTAR. “Not this shit, I hope.”

Zane quickly shoved the card from the machine into his pocket. “Haha, no way. Just one of the claw machines. I didn’t get anything.”

“I bet I would have gotten something,” Heath said haughtily. “Although nothing as sick as this ball.” He bounced it again for emphasis.

“You ready to go?” Zane asked, sort of unnerved by ZOLTAR and ready to head home. “You bet.”

*****

“Bitch, where’s my third course?”

They were stuck in traffic on 134 again, and Zane could tell Heath was getting antsy.

“Oh, yeah,” Zane said, reaching into the back seat for the last bag of food. “Here you are, sir.”

“Boskon Kream doughnuts!” Heath screamed, taking a huge bite. “Don’t you touch my Boskon Kream doughnut!”

Pieces of chewed doughnut fell out of his mouth into his lap, but Zane was so used to Heath’s eating habits that it didn’t faze him.

Heath ate happily. Zane couldn’t stop thinking about ZOLTAR. He knew it was just a machine, but he had a weird feeling about it. He tried to distract himself by thinking about how well the evening had gone, despite the shaky start.

“Hey, why do you hate Glendale?” Zane asked, remembering Heath’s comment from before. “You never told me.”

Heath’s eyes narrowed again. “Because everyone in Glendale is a fucking asshole.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone.” Heath tore off another piece of doughnut and didn’t elaborate.

They sat in companionable silence, except for the radio. Heath ate another doughnut, burped loudly, and then pulled out his phone. It was like any other night.

They were getting close to Studio City, and Zane hadn’t made any progress with deciphering his fortune, nor had he thought of his pièce de résistance for their night out.

They were five minutes from home when they drove by a middle-aged couple walking on the sidewalk. They had huge backpacks and hiking boots on, and were walking with poles.

“White people,” Heath said, shaking his head before looking back at his phone.

Zane figured they had probably come from Franklin Canyon Park, choosing to walk back instead of driving like normal people, but hey, to each their own. LA had plenty of hippie types.

As he looked back at them in his rearview mirror, it hit him.

“Oh my god,” Zane said abruptly.

“What?!” Heath looked at him, concerned.

Zane had it. He had figured ZOLTAR out.