#i’m proud of myself loll

[courageisneverforgotten]

“hmmm, I should change my tumblr theme, it’s been a while. jazz it up a bit”

*changes profile pic to another silly Guy laughing and looking to the right, but this time he’s from the 1940s*

[lovemeferally]

Lap Dog // aib

niragi suguru x gn!reader

genre :: smut, just smut

word count :: 495

summery :: in which you teach aguni's lap dog a new trick c:

warnings :: smut (not really graphic), established 'relationship', dom/sub dynamic, sub!niragi, dom!reader, restraints, gagged, implied edging, choking, petplay if you squint, niragi can be a good boy sometimes

notes :: i don't typically post my writing. its all for myself. but i found this old drabble and thought someone else out there might enjoy it.

You’d taken to calling him Aguni’s lap dog. He was an obnoxious thing, always yipping at the most inappropriate times and nipping at every innocent passerby. He interjected himself unnecessarily into any situation. He was arrogant and cocky in some of the most unflattering ways.

But despite his insistent barking and stupid studded lolling tongue like a panting mutt you found him… delightful.

When it was just the two of you tucked away in private like this, it was easy to understand why. You crouch to his level and cradle Niragi’s face with both hands; Dark, blown out eyes search for your own in a haze. Gently you catch some of the spittle pooling from under the silicone bit wedged between his teeth.

“You’ve been such a good boy, haven’t you?”

Wordlessly, he attempts to lean into the touch, but the sound of clinking chain links stops him before the collar can tighten any further. You can’t help but admire the way the metal dips into the column of his neck. You can’t help but look in wonder at how taut his shoulders are from the nylon chord carefully climbing up his arms. You can’t help but look in reverence at just how hard his cock was straining against it’s own leather collar you’d placed at its base.

This man. This stupid fucking man.

Straddling his kneeling lap, you showered his face in gentle kisses, being sure to place one on each of those stupid piercings that made your stomach flip. The whole time you showered him in praises.

'Look at you, you’re so beautiful.', 'You’re being so good for me.', 'I’m so proud of you.'

Niragi was lost in the attentions, distracted as you unlatched the gag. Grabbing him by that mess of black hair and finally catching his mouth with your own is a relief for both of you. It was the first time tonight you’d given yourself the chance to taste him properly – unfair as it was since you’d so graciously allowed him to taste you.

He moaned again, low and guttural. You couldn’t help but chuckle lowly.

“You have to tell me what you want, pet.”

His dark eyes were still glossed over. His face and chest was still slick with a sheen of his own saliva. Your eyes followed that studded tongue as it darted across his bottom lip.

His request was resolved and sure despite the absolute mess of himself, “I want you to fuck me.” Oh, that went straight through you. But alas you tilted your head, coercing the remainder of the request. He hesitated this time, “Please.” You grinned, leaning deathly close to his lips knowing well that he couldn’t reach you with the chain links already digging so deep into the soft flesh of his throat.

He was going to have to concede one way or another, “Master. I want you to fuck me, please.”

Niragi may be Aguni’s lap dog. But he was your bitch.

[softmamawrites]

And Then There Was You : Chapter 2

the way this chapter made me want to scream because I lost a very big portion of it and had to rewrite it. but I also love this chapter because we get to see bitter bitch John and he’s my beloved.

Warnings: masturbation (I’d like to reiterate, John is intersex, he has both female and male genitalia, it’s talked about a lot in this chapter. this is also my version of that and if you don’t like it…well there’s the door 👋🏻), graphic descriptions of birth (you can skip that bit, starting at week 34, to the little cut off line), self loathing Gale, one mention of men killing themselves, and of course bitter bitch John. Mama John 💕

Words: 11.5k words - I am once again wanting to say sorry for that but I’m also proud of this so….

Moodboard by me

dividers by: @sweetmelodygraphics

thank you to @trashbag-baby666 for listening to me scream, cry, and throw up over mama John 💕

-24 weeks-6 months pregnant-

“It’ll look even nicer with a new coat of paint on it. And don’t even think of getting up on a ladder yourself.” Brady says as he looks at John, both of them standing on the sidewalk outside of John’s new home. The ivory colored home is quaint, a farmers porch stretching across the front of the home. With a sturdy white wooden bench swing sitting there, it’s what originally drew John to it. Benny was happily moving boxes from the bed of his pickup truck, there wasn’t much there.

Maybe 20 boxes all together, it’s whatever John could fit in his duffle bag and then whatever he’s picked up over the course of his time in New Mexico. Meatball barks happily as he rolls around in the grass, tongue lolling out with his feet in the air. Brady looks around slightly at the yard, cataloging in his head what needs to be done. The grass was slightly overgrown, the weeds needed to be pulled, there were some slats of the fence that would need to be repaired.

“Don’t worry, I know you two will tan my hide if I get up there. And I don’t trust myself up on a ladder anyways.” John responds, shaking his head slightly as he rests a gentle hand on his belly. He had swelled out just a bit now, mostly just over his belly button and down above his pelvic bone. But he noticed it when he was trying to button his slacks, he didn’t even need a belt anymore to keep them up. Brady chuckles softly as he nods in agreement and they both step up the four wooden steps.

John hums softly as they step through the screen door, smiling softly when he sees the inside of the home. It would need some stuff done to it, but it was well maintained for the most part. The elderly couple that owned it had done their best, when the wife found out that John was pregnant. She insisted they leave all of the furniture, stating they didn’t need it in the nursing home. She had even made sure to tell John there was a crib upstairs in the attic from when she had her babies.

“I’m so happy you moved down the road from us, that’s so awesome. It’ll be so much fun!” Benny says from where he’s setting one of the last boxes in the dining room. Brady smiling a little as he watches his fiancé, the man was like a giant puppy, just like his beloved husky. The road they lived on was quiet, eight houses in total between both sides. John lived at the end of the dead end road, with a sweet little old lady across from him. Mrs. Ellis whom had already introduced herself, and upon finding out that John was expecting. Had declared she was going to knit him all of the socks, sweaters, and blankets he could ever need.

He was finding that he was being taken care of whether he liked it or wanted it. Benny had been ecstatic when he found out John was pregnant that night all those weeks ago. Proclaiming happily that he had been there when his ma had his two youngest sisters, and he loved babies. He had taken over any heavy lifting that John needed to be done, it was very sweet. While Brady had been quietly taking care of John, he was the one who found the house to begin with. Telling John about it one night when they’d been having dinner together. He had been silently sending leftovers home with John to make sure he had food for the next day. He had even slyly asked one time what John had been craving, and the next day there were chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

John smiles softly as he continues looking around, seeing the god awful floral couch sitting in the living room. A beige colored rug resting in the middle of the floor, a coffee table on top of it. Two red suede lounge chairs sat on the opposite side, almost blocking the view of the big front window. John would have to try and move the couch, he wanted to be able to look out the window. He turns his head as he hears the clomping of footsteps coming into the house.

“You’ve got a big backyard too John! You could get a dog!” Benny calls from where he’s standing in the kitchen, Brady rolling his eyes slightly as he shakes his head. John laughing quietly as he looks towards the kitchen, seeing Benny coming back out with a little pep in his step. Coming over to kiss the side of Brady’s head gently, John smiling softly as he watches them. While many still saw it as wrong to lay with another man, it wasn’t deemed a blue ticket home anymore. So they were free to be together in the eyes of the military, even if they were relatively quiet about it outside of the house. But John was happy to see his friends getting to embrace the love they’d been harbouring for some time now.

“Yea, I don’t think I’m gettin a dog anytime soon Ben.” John responds making the younger man whine a little, before all three of them are looking over to the sound of clawed feet trampling into the house. Meatball having heard Benny’s whine and coming to investigate his owner’s distress. Nudging his nose into the side of Benny’s hip, before the man is scruffing his neck and between his ears. The husky’s foot bouncing slightly when Benny gets a good spot, his tongue lolling out happily.

“Hi Meatball.” John murmurs when the dog pushes his wet nose against the side of John’s belly. His fingers coming down to scratch gently, feeling the dog press closer to him. Before John feels the faintest of flutters, his hand coming down to cup the bottom of his stomach. Pulling both Benny and Brady from their mini argument about getting another dog for Meatball to play with. Brady looking at his friend worriedly, stepping closer to place a hand on his bicep and look at him. Benny moving closer instinctively, both men surrounding their old Major. Meatball whining from where he’s being pressed in between John and Benny’s thighs.

“I think…I think the baby is moving.” The oldest states, his eyebrows drawn together as he tries to figure out if it’s what he’s feeling. Trying desperately not to panic at all, feeling the way Brady’s fingers are gently holding him. Midwife Carole told him every time she saw him that his chances for a spontaneous miscarriage had dropped significantly. But it still didn’t stop those thoughts from rolling in, it didn’t stop him from panicking at every little thing. It didn’t always help when it came to trying to decipher any aches or pains in his body.

“What’s it feel like John?” Brady asks him softly, Benny looking at his boyfriend in slight worry. Both of them had grown to be very overprotective of the older man, taking care of him. Just like he always did for them when they were overseas, he was a mama before actually becoming one. And now it was his turn to be taken care of, it was his turn to know someone was there for him whenever he needed them.

“Feels like flutters…I don’t know how to describe it. Like when someone runs their fingers over your arm, I don’t know if that makes sense.” Both of the men nod their heads in understanding, smiling softly as they look at him. John feeling tears welling in his eyes as he stands there with his friends. Hormones having taken over for just a moment, breathing deeply as he tries not to sob. He didn’t feel alone anymore, not all of the time anyways, he knew he had people around him. He had found a family, even if he lost one, his found one was accepting him for who he was.

-29 weeks pregnant-7 months pregnant-

John sighs softly as he lays in his bed, trying to roll over for the 100th time that night. The ache in his side not going away, the too hot feeling he’s had all day just simmering. He huffs quietly as he tucks a pillow under his side, propping himself up just slightly. He was a belly sleeper, and he couldn’t do that anymore. He had officially popped three days prior, a nice rounded out shape under his shirts now.

Benny told him that it reminded him of a basketball, like it had just been shoved up under John’s shirts. And John had to agree that it did look almost too perfectly round at times, but he could feel it stretching his skin almost too taut at times. Which made him often wonder how he was going to get through the next 11 or so weeks before his baby would be born. He gently drags his hand down his side, feeling the baby respond. An elbow dragging down to follow their mama’s touch, John watching as his belly ripples slightly.

“I feel you little one.” John voices quietly, tapping by his belly button and smiling as he feels the push back. Rubbing his thumb across his skin, breathing deeply and feeling the tears welling. Huffing at himself in frustration, John had never cried as much as he did lately. He was always good at keeping that in check, but lately he couldn’t stop the tears from tracing down his face. Rubbing his hand over his eyes, he lets out a steadying breath. Chest rising and falling evenly, adjusting his hips just the slightest bit to get the pressure off of his side.

Shifting again John lets out a soft sigh at the brush of his shirt against his nipples. Feeling that little pleasurable zing go down his spine, his eyes slipping closed. Breathing deeply, feeling his nipples pebbling under the cotton of his shirt. His cock giving a little twitch of interest in his boxers, core beginning to tingle. John had never been this easily worked up before, not since he was 13 and found out what an orgasm was. Biting into his lower lip as he lays there, before he’s shrugging out of his shirt. The cool air breezing over him now feeling almost as good as the arousal flowing through him.

Licking the fingers of his left hand, he brings his fingers down to gently rub and pinch at a nipple. Whimpering a little, it was almost so sensitive that it hurt, the little nub hardens even more. Making him take in a deep breath, little goosebumps forming on his skin as he rolls his fingers over his nipple. He feels his center beginning to clench around nothing, his cock giving another twitch of interest. His free hand going down to slide into his boxers. Squeezing around himself, rubbing his thumb across the tip.

He wouldn’t produce any slick, not yet anyways, not until he was orgasming and then it would spurt out in little splatters. His core is clenching again in want, feeling the little bud of his clit starting to ache. Breathing deeply he slowly slides his fingers down, to feel himself wet with slick. A little shudder going up his spine, he didn’t usually slide his hand lower than his cock. The only person that really did was Gale, but Gale had also avoided touching his cock.

“Oh fuck.” John whispers as he slides two fingers through his puffy outer lips, swollen and slick already. His hole clenching at the contact, his pelvic muscles tensing at the stimulation. Before he’s bringing his hand back up to his cock quickly, using the wetness he gathered to rub over his tip. Pinching his nipple gently causing another hitching whine to come from his throat. Beginning to move his hand on his length, squeezing and rubbing. That peak becoming clearer for him, within reach now, before he’s slipping away from it.

Groaning softly at the loss, his eyes squeezing shut, trying to focus again while also trying to keep his mind blissfully blank. Feeling as his clit throbs again, neglected and wanting. His walls squeezing around nothing, before he’s huffing softly. Letting go of his cock and turning his head to the side, eyes closing a little tighter. While he runs his fingers through his slick again, whimpering at the pressure. Before he’s trying to slide two fingers into himself, whining at the stretch. The heel of his hand brushing against his little pearl, thighs threatening to close. The pleasure zap almost too much for him, the tender flesh was more sensitive than it usually was.

“Please…please just, oh fuck.” John gasps as he gets a good rhythm, trying to remember what he’s done in the past to women. His heart beginning to thud in his ears harder, stomach spasming with want. He curls his fingers inside of himself, whining lowly before he’s having to pull a finger free. Too swollen and sensitive to keep going with two, his walls tensing again. Palm of his hand grinding into his clit, while his forearm keeps his cock trapped against his rounded belly.

John’s toes curl under the sheets, feeling that precipice coming higher and higher. His feet digging into the bed slightly, whimpers flowing from his mouth freely. His fingers pinching at his nipple again, a high pitched noise slipping free. John working his finger inside of himself a little quicker now, jaw dropping at the pleasure curling around his pelvis. His fingers leave his nipple to go and grab at the pillow under his head.

“I’m, fuck yes, please…G Gale…please.” John gasps out as he’s suddenly slamming into that high. Body tensing completely, lower back arching off of the mattress, his breathing stopping. Before a wrecked sob is coming from his throat, pants falling from between his parted lips. Laying there alone in his bed, skin sticky with sweat, core dimly throbbing, his cock pulsing. His tacky release coating his fingers and the spot of his hip where his tip was trapped during the whole ordeal.

He slowly heaves himself out of bed, legs a little wobbly like a newborn deer. His heart still hammering away in his throat, while he cleans himself up. Wincing a little as the shame begins to flood in, hot tears pin pricking the corners of his eyes. He had touched his core, made himself cum, and said Gale’s name out loud while he did it. There’s nothing that can stop the tears from flowing down his face, shutting off the bathroom light before going back to his room.

Crawling in his bed, pulling his shirt back on, situating pillows, trying to get comfortable. His arm curling around the closest pillow, willing himself not to cry to sleep tonight. It had been awhile since he had done that, he was doing better. He hadn’t thought of Gale in that capacity in a long time. He hadn’t thought of the blond while touching himself since before the stalag. When he had had that one last sad jerk session in the shower before flying the next day with Brady.

Now when he thought of Gale, it was tinged in sadness, longing and yearning in a way for companionship. Just wanting the younger man to be around, but knowing he could never have that. He could never have Gale the way he wanted to, because Gale was in Wyoming living the life that he wanted. And John wasn’t apart of that life, not anymore.

-32 weeks pregnant- 8 months pregnant-

“Hello John, it’s nice to see that you’re resting.” Midwife Carole says smiling as she comes up the walkway for John’s home. Seeing the man sitting in the porch swing, his boot covered foot swaying him back and forward slowly. She can see paint smudged on his shirt, and his hair was curlier today, like he had been sweating. A mug of something resting on the prominent swell of his belly, he turns his head to look at her. Smiling softly when he does, he looked tired, little bags under his eyes.

“Hi Midwife Carole, it’s too nice out to not take advantage of the swing.” He responds before he’s carefully heaving himself off of the wooden bench seat. Standing for a moment to make sure he doesn’t get dizzy or lose his balance at all. Before he’s leading her towards the house, always a gentleman with his greeting of her title, always opening the door for her. The both of them step inside, the home smelling like drying paint going up the stairs. She can see the cabinets in the kitchen have all been replaced, no doubt his friend having done it.

“How have you been feeling? Are Brady and Benny still feeding you meals?” She asks after he’s come back from the kitchen, having refilled his mug with water. Slowly sitting down on the couch, while she sets her bag down on the coffee table. Sitting on the couch next to him, she found it best if they talked for a few moments before any medical stuff came up. John was better than he was the first time they met, he wasn’t as jumpy around her. He still shied away when they had to measure his belly, or had to discuss any of the more personal matters.

“I’m, tired, I haven’t been able to get very comfortable. Feel like the baby is up in my ribs sometimes, makes it hard to breathe. Both of them are usually here for dinner, I tell them I can cook, I don’t know if they believe me or not though.” Carole chuckles softly and smiles as she looks at him, nodding a little bit. Watching as John shifts slightly, eyes flicking over to the bag on the table. Before she’s reaching for it and opening it, beginning to pull out the tools she needs. A stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, fabric measuring tape, and a pinard horn.

“I’m going to listen to your heart, check your blood pressure, measure your belly, and then listen to baby. Is that all okay John?” The man nods his head softly as he looks at her, sitting up a little straighter for her to get to his arm better. Feeling as she wraps the fabric around, before she’s pulling her stethoscope on. And beginning to inflate the cuff, listening intently to the sounds, before she’s smiling at him.

Listening to his heart and lungs next, before she’s gently helping him roll his shirt up over his belly. John looking down at his skin and taking a deep breath, he had always stayed in relatively good shape. Seeing himself stretched out was different for him, he struggled just a little with it. He could see the little stretch marks up by his ribcage forming, he was sure he had more down lower he just couldn’t see them. The hair he had had on his lower belly was thinned out, almost non existent. It almost made him sad, that was one thing that he had that made him feel masculine.

His eyes trail slightly as he waits for her to say anything, pupils catching on the books he has on the table. Brady had found them when he’d went into town, picking them up for John to be able to read. The man having marked things he thought would be best for him to remember. Brady had even found a book with a section in it that contained men giving birth. John had read that part of the book at least four times over now, still trying to make sure he’s prepared.

“Is everything okay?” John asks softly as he sits there, the midwife holding the tape at the bottom of his sternum down to his pelvic bone. John squirming just a little bit at the touch, before he’s letting out a deep breath. Carole smiling encouragingly at him as she measures, feeling the baby kicking at her hands.

“Everything is wonderful John, every belly is different, and we have areas of measurement that we expect to fit into. You fit into those measurements perfectly, your baby is growing wonderfully.” He nods softly and lets out a deep inhale, letting himself relax just a little bit. Watching as she picks up the horn, before she’s gently placing it to his stomach. Resting her ear down to listen, John staying quiet as she does. He wished he could listen too, knowing it would comfort him just a little to be able to hear his baby’s heart beating.

“A nice strong heartbeat, have you been feeling any twinges at all? They would be down here, maybe on the sides.” Carole asks as she gently touches down by his pelvic bone, before touching the sides of his rounded belly. John shakes his head softly, looking down at himself as he tries to think. His body was always feeling tight lately, but he didn’t remember any odd twinges.

“I don’t think so, my skin feels stretched tight as it is. But I don’t think I’ve had any twinges or anything.”

“And that’s perfectly okay, those twinges are what we call practice contractions. As you get farther along you may begin to experience them, especially if you’re doing too much. Or not drinking enough water, it’s important to rest when you can.” Carole informs him, before she’s packing her things away. John rolling his shirt back down, smoothing the cotton down with gentle fingers. Feeling as the baby kicks again, a foot or elbow meeting his palm. Making a little smile flicker on his lips briefly, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to feeling a baby move inside of him.

“I’ll make sure I keep drinking a lot, and I promise I’ll take more breaks. I just, can’t sit still lately. I need to be doing something.” John says as he slowly rises off of the couch, going to lead her out. Wanting to sit back on the porch again, the breeze really did feel nice today. Carole smiles softly in understanding as she listens to him, before they are saying their goodbyes on his porch.

-Gale-

“Is there a reason?” Marge asks as the pair lay in their bed, both of them pink cheeked, a little sweaty. Gale laying on his back next to her, his blond hair flopped down onto his forehead. The man turning his head to look at her, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. Before he’s watching her slowly get up, keeping her nightie pulled up away from her stomach. His drying cum streaking her skin, as she shimmies off of the bed.

“A reason for what Marge?” Gale asks as he sits up, reaching for his briefs on the floor. Listening as she walks towards the bathroom across the hall from their room, the tap turning on. While Gale sits on the side of their bed, his hands clenching the edges of the mattress. Breathing deeply while he lets his shoulders loosen just a little bit, his eyes closing.

They had been tip toeing around one another for the last few months now, the first two weeks of him being home had been like a honeymoon phase. Everyone was so happy to see him back, so happy to get hands on him. Marge hadn’t left his side, glued to him and so proud to show him off to anyone. It had been nice, but nice only lasts for so long. And Gale could feel himself slipping the longer he was home, the longer he was away from John.

He tried, he tried so hard to not think of John, but sometimes when he’d close his eyes he’d see ocean blue. Sometimes when he’d turn his head he’d expect to see the older man, the woodsy smell of John’s cologne haunted him. He missed the way the man smelt so much that he went and bought a pack of Lucky Strikes just to smell. Until it wasn’t enough anymore and he was lighting one up to smoke, that night he had whimpered around a cigarette.

Gale was mortified with himself, he had used his best friend because he couldn’t admit to himself that he loved him. Some of the instances Gale could say it was lust, loneliness, that was what drew the two men together, especially in the stalag. But Gale couldn’t rationalize away the night John came back to Thorpe Abbots, that had been purely Gale being selfish. He needed to feel that John was alive and pulsing under his finger tips. He needed to feel his heart thudding, he needed to know that John was real.

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me when we’re making love? A reason you won’t…finish inside of me?” Marge asks, voice tight and holding an edge to it that has Gale’s stomach curling in on itself. His shoulders tensing all of the way up to his ears again, sitting in just his underwear on the side of their bed. Marge standing just inside of the bedroom door to look at her fiancé. Watching as he avoids looking up at her, and it’s a sudden realization for her.

“Who was it? Was it a Red Cross girl? A nurse?” Gale looks up quickly at that, making something snap in Marge’s chest. She can feel the bubbling anger, but it’s overrun by the overwhelming feel of hurt and betrayal. Before Gale is quickly looking away, his chest feeling tight now, his stomach spasming like he’s going to be sick.

“It was John.” He whispers suddenly, without meaning to, needing to fill the sharp silence between them. He hears the little intake of air from Marge’s lips, peeking up at her again. Seeing the way she’s tensed herself up, her dainty fingers gripping the sides of her nightie. Her soft lips set into a little pouty scowl, before she’s really looking at him again. Scanning over whatever she can consume and see, she’d always been able to see through Gale.

“You’re not telling the whole truth…you may be able to lie to others Gale Winston, but you’ve never been able to lie to me.”

“I used him Marge, I used him and left him. I left him again.” The blond finally gets out, feeling the weight leave his chest just slightly. The air leaving his lungs quickly as he sits there, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t sure he remembered how to cry. Having taken so many beatings as a child for showing emotion, it was like something had broken inside of him. He had used John just like his dad had used both Gale and his mother, he was no better than the older Cleven man.

“If there’s one thing I know about you Gale, it’s that you aren’t a user. So we’re going to talk about this, and we’re talking about right now. Collect yourself and come down to the kitchen…because this is not the end of this discussion.” Marge states before she’s turning on the ball of her foot and going for their stairs, setting about making a pot of coffee. Neither of them were going to sleep tonight, it was starting to make sense for her. Gale was carrying guilt around with him, more than just fighting in a war like her daddy had said. This was the kind of guilt that pushed men into killing themselves, the kind of guilt that didn’t just disappear.

Gale quietly gets himself dressed, he didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to lay his cards on the table, he didn’t want Marge to see the parts of himself that he had been hiding. But on the other hand, it felt so freeing to say it out loud. To voice how he had been feeling since he’d woken up naked next to John. The older man nestled into his side, skinny and bony, sleeping so peacefully. Like Gale had been the answer to all of his night time horrors, like Gale had been the remedy that John needed.

Gale gets down to the kitchen, seeing that Marge has brewed a pot of coffee. A mug sitting by the chair he frequently sits in, along with his pack of Lucky Strikes, a box of matches, and an ashtray. She didn’t like that Gale started smoking, but it was something that she didn’t fight, her only rule was not in the house. Tonight seemed to be an exception, he looks at her to see her staring at him expectantly. The man almost skittering to his chair, if anyone scared him, it was Marge. The way she could command a room without even having to raise her voice. Terrified him more than some of the drill sergeants he had encountered.

“You’re going to start at the beginning, and I don’t care if we sit down here all damn night.” Marge states as she looks at him, her usually soft brown eyes holding a slight sternness to them. Making Gale look down, fidgeting a little before he’s lighting a cigarette, pulling it to his lips to take a deep pull from it. His stomach rolling slightly as he tries to collect his thoughts, chewing on his lower lip.

“I, I love him Marge…I’ve loved him since flight school. Since he came into the bunk rooms and declared me ‘Buck’, I tried, I tried so hard to not let it get to me. But he’s, John is an enigma, he draws people in and makes them feel whole again. At first I thought it was just a crush, cuz he was giving me attention and everything. I was wrong, when I, when I had to bail out of my plane, I wasn’t thinking of you. I wasn’t thinking of home, I wasn’t even thinking of my men, I was thinking of John. And how the last time he had seen me was when I slow danced with a goddamn dog.” Gale says with a bitter laugh, shaking his head a little. Drinking from his mug of coffee, cigarette coming back up to his plush lips. Marge watching as he takes a deep inhale, his shoulders shaking slightly with it. Blue eyes looking a little hazy, like there’s a sheen of tears sitting there.

“Then I didn’t die, and he didn’t die, and he came to the camp. And it was like I could breathe again, but he was so battered. He was so beaten Marge, I thought he was going to die, he slept for 3 days when he got there. I couldn’t let him out of my sight, I couldn’t let him go. I needed him close, and I could lie to myself while we were in there. It made it easier, to pretend for even just a minute that he wanted me the way I wanted him. But then I, I left him there Marge. I left him behind because he told me to run, I heard gunshots and I still ran. Because I knew if I turned and went back, John would have been so pissed at me.” The blonde woman watches as he lights his third cigarette, his hand quivering just slightly. She could see that what he was saying was slowly unraveling him. Like he was tugging at the string that he had carefully wrapped around himself to keep him whole when he got back. The man had carefully crafted himself back into a whole human being, and she hadn’t seen it.

“Then I waited…I waited and I waited for weeks for him to come back to Thorpe Abbots…to come back to me. I didn’t deserve it, I didn’t deserve to feel the relief that I did when I heard his voice. Rosie and I landed the plane and there he was, skin and bone, looking smaller than I’ve ever seen him look. It fucking killed me, it gutted me to see him like that. He insisted we go to the club, he insisted we go see the guys who came back before him. I just wanted to get my hands on him, I just wanted to know that he was real. And so…I, I took him back to my barrack room, and I wasn’t going to sleep with him. I just wanted to hold him, like we did when we were in the camp. I couldn’t stop myself once I’d started, I just needed to know he was there and breathing.” Gale says as he breathes deeply, his eyes stinging slightly with unshed tears. Baring his soul in front of the girl who he pledged to love for years to come, he was telling her he cheated on her. But he didn’t feel guilty for that, he didn’t feel guilty for defaming his character, he felt guilty for John. She could see that, she could see that he felt like he’d used John. She wasn’t expecting the next words to come spilling from his mouth in anguish.

“I asked him not to say anything the next morning…I asked him to still be my best man. We flew home, we waited at the train station together, I promised to write, I promised to call. I promised that we would see each other, and I…I haven’t written to him. I tried, I sat down and stared at the paper for hours. I couldn’t get anything to come out, I couldn’t make myself write words that I knew weren’t true.” Gale says, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he sits there. Smoke billowing from his mouth, flowing out of him and to the window. Marge watches as more tears flow down his face, and she’s sitting up straighter. Not sure how to touch him, not sure if he wanted to be touched right now. So far down in a self loathing hole that she isn’t sure he can find his way back up.

“Gale…you broke his heart. You asked him not to say anything to anyone, you treated him like a dirty secret. You made promises that you didn’t keep…but that doesn’t mean you need to punish yourself still.”

“I don’t know what to do Margie.” Gale whispers, shame filling his tone as he sits there and tries not to cry harder. Breathing deeply while reaching for another cigarette, she rests her hand on top of his. Stopping him from grabbing the pack, getting his pale blues to meet her gaze. Their eyes connecting, the sheen on Gale’s pupils looking shiny.

“I think you know what you need to do Gale.”

-34 weeks pregnant- 8 months pregnant-

John groans softly as he finds himself sinking to his knees in the living room, upper body laying across the couch. His muscles shaking as another contraction rolls up his spine, eyes squeezing shut. He had called the midwife's house, but with the storm outside she wasn’t sure when she’d get there. He had tried calling Benny and Brady, they were both out and he couldn’t get ahold of them. He knew this was too early, Midwife Carole had sounded concerned when he’d told her that he’d been contracting for awhile now. If his timing was right he had been like this for almost 10 hours at this point.

Grunting when he suddenly feels a wet splash between his legs, looking down to see that his water has broken on the area rug. He really hates this rug, but for the moment he’s glad it’s there. Glad it’s there to pad his knees and catch the mess that is still leaking from him. His muscles tensing as another contraction slams into him, eyes squeezing shut while he tries to breathe.

This was not going according to his plans at all, he had felt fine all day yesterday. It wasn’t until he was getting into bed that he suddenly felt twinges up his side. But he thought they were the practice contractions that Midwife Carole had been telling him about. He had been able to mostly go about his day, it had only gotten worse within the last two hours or so. He had been doing the dishes when he felt the ripping pain up his spine.

"Oh fucking fuck." John groans as his shoulders tense up, this contraction harder than the last one. Racking up his spine and making him double over into the couch cushion in front of him. One hand going down to cup his core, feeling like he's being ripped from the inside out. His pelvic bone burning while he tries to rock through it, just like the book taught him. Raising up on his knees slightly he whimpers into the cushion again, toes curling behind himself.

"Oh my god...oh fuck. Oh fuck." John gasps out as he shakes, body pushing automatically as he kneels there. One arm up gripping the couch while the other stays between his legs. Jumping slightly when a flash of lightening fills the entire room, followed by a crack of thunder. Turning his head a bit to watch as the storm rages on, he tries to breathe deeply.

Touching his entrance and scrunching his nose up, he didn't know what he was feeling for. His hips sway slightly as he tries to take the pressure off of his pelvic bone, before he's contracting again. Fingers gripping the cushion under him as he groans deep in his chest. Pushing again on instinct as he kneels there, wetness dripping down his thighs onto his rug. Of course his baby would decide to come during the biggest rain storm of the year so far, an entire six or so weeks early on top of it.

"Okay...okay, it's okay. Mm it's okay." John whispers hoarsely more to himself than anything else as he tenses again with another contraction and push. Biting into the couch cushion as he pushes again, grunting in his throat with the effort. His muscles quivering as he concentrates, a broken sob coming up his throat.

Feeling as the baby descends lower, his fingers suddenly touching gooey hair, knowing it isn't his own. He lets out a soft sob, breathing deeply when he can and pushing down. Biting the cushion harder as he pushes, a low scream leaving his throat at the burning sensation. Before he's shuddering as the head emerges, a wail getting stuck in his throat. He touches gently as he pushes again, feeling the curves of his baby's face.

Tears rolling down his own at the burning pain going through her center, his other hand shooting down to catch the baby. Sobbing openly as the baby slides down in a rush of fluids, John automatically bringing the baby up towards his chest. Crying as he pats the baby's back, shaking a bit from the adrenaline and the pain, bringing the baby away from his body.

Smiling a watery smile before he's trying to clear out their airway, until a wet cry fills the air. A breath of relief coming from John’s mouth, he had been terrified he would be delivering a baby who would never cry.

"Hi sweetheart...hi, I know, it's cold. You're okay, I've got you." John whispers hoarsely as he shrugs off his flannel shirt, shaking a little as the cold air licks at his sweat soaked white undershirt. The baby crying still, John wiping at his eyes slightly, before he's smiling softly. Swaddling the baby up in his shirt and nuzzling their cheeks together.

"Hi Ruth Adelaide'" He murmurs as he brushes his nose against her's softly, her little cries quieting down. Listening to the timber of his voice as he holds her close, brushing his hand over her sticky hair. Another crack of thunder and lightening filling the living room while they stare at one another.

John smiling as he looks at his baby, heart aching just slightly as he sees some of the features that he loves. The little upturn of her nose, soft pink lips, her hair a dark blonde color but curly like John's own. She was so tiny in his hands, fitting in both of his palms with a little overhang from her legs, her skin holding a pink tinge to it under the goo.

Laughing wetly he looks at his daughter, bringing her up for a gentle kiss to her forehead. Before he's groaning at a pain shooting down his stomach into his pelvic bone. Holding her closer to his chest, as he rests a hand on the couch to support himself. Entire body tensing with the pain rolling through him.

"Bucky?! It's Johnny and Benny! Where are you?!" Brady calls as they come in from the rain, soaked to the bone and shivering slightly. Benny trying to turn on one of the light switches, looking up when it doesn't even flicker. Before Brady is heading in from the front hallway, jaw dropping as he sees John kneeling by the couch. Naked from the waist down, a baby cradled in his arms while he looks up. His black curls falling onto his forehead, cheeks flushed a rosy color. Brady drops his jacket on the ground with a wet slop, making Benny look over. His own jaw dropping slightly before he's following his fiancé quickly.

"Oh my god, are you okay? We came to check on you, the power was out at our house when we got back. Jesus Christ John." Brady says slightly breathless, hearing as Benny runs to get towels and a pair of scissors. The older man laughs quietly and nods his head, wincing as another pain flares up his middle. Turning the baby to show to Johnny, a smile forming on the brunet's face. Seeing the baby looking around, alert and curious as John cradles her close.

"Ruth, her name is Ruth Adelaide." John states, Brady smiling softly as he looks at her again. Nodding his head a bit before he's watching as John's face contorts in pain. Brady looking at him in concern, listening as Benny comes running back down with a handful of towels. A baby diaper in one hand and the blanket that Mrs. Ellis knitted together in the other. Stopping and dropping things onto the other end of the couch to free his hands.

"What's wrong John? What hurts?”

“Did you call the midwife?"

"Just feels like more contractions...l know I have to pass the after birth. But this is just like it was when I was having her...I called, she didn't know when she’d get here." John answers, slightly breathless towards the end as he's overtaken by another contraction. Reaching with one hand to grab the cushion, Brady shifting to kneel next to his friend. Trying to support him, taking the scissors from Benny to snip Ruth's cord. Gently handing the baby off to his fiancé, before he's trying to help John. The older man whimpering just a little as he shakes with another contraction.

"You're sure it was just one? The midwife confirmed it?" Benny asks as he carefully puts a diaper on Ruth, the little girl fighting sleep as she lays there. Before he's swaddling her up in the blanket, gently patting her butt. John groans into the cushion where he's got his face buried in, gripping the material tightly. Brady wincing as he watches, reminding himself to never ever do this.

Eyes widening as he watches John tuck a hand down under himself, Benny wincing a bit at the pained sound to leave his friend's throat. John whimpering at the burning feeling of already abused and torn skin clenching with a contraction.

“She said it was one...she listened to the heartbeat last week. Oh my fucking god." John gets out as his eyes screw shut, already feeling ripped from the inside out. Hand shaking as he tries to feel himself again, wincing at the tenderness. Pulling his hand away to see fresh blood coating his fingers, breathing deeply as he leans into the couch more. Brady kneeling next to him wide eyed as he watches, not sure where he can help.

"Do you want to switch positions? Maybe it's the afterbirth? My ma always said it wasn't a pleasant experience." Benny offers as he looks at his friend before looking at his fiancé, seeing the way Brady has gone a little pale. His blue eyes staring at John, watching as the older man rocks slightly while another contraction comes up.

Before Brady is moving to rub John's back softly, peering down to try and see if he can see anything. John not having the energy to bat him away, muscles tensing as pain licks up his spine. Burying his face back into the couch while he pushes again, Brady's jaw dropping again as he watches.

"J John...Bucky I think you're having another one. I swear to god there's another head." Brady says as he looks at his friend, the man groaning while bringing his hand back down. Touching the gooey mess, feeling just like he did with Ruth, a broken sob coming up his throat. Body tensing, back bowing up at the hot white pain flaring through him. Brady wincing as he reaches for a towel to try and help, John pushing again while biting the cushion harder.

"You're doing good John...we've got you now." Benny says as he gently lays a sleeping Ruth down on the couch, coming to kneel on his other side. Brady looking over the broad expanse of John's shoulders at his fiancé. Benny nodding softly as he grabs another towel and rests it on the ground between John's thighs.

A hiccuping cry coming from Bucky's throat, pushing again as he sobs. Tears wetting the cushion and his arm, he was exhausted, he was hurting everywhere. He just wanted it to be done, but he was glad he wasn't alone anymore. Feeling Brady’s warm hand touching his spine soothingly, while he rocks just a little bit. His toes curling again as he pushes once more, sobbing in frustration now.

"Feels stuck in my pelvic bone...can't get it out. It’s gonna break me. Oh fuck." John grunts out after he's pushed another round, Benny biting his lip before he's getting behind Bucky. Grabbing the older man's hips and pushing them forward so he's upright more. Brady watching with a bit of fear licking up his chest, John looked like he was bleeding a lot.

The rug underneath him was soaked, and he had never seen Bucky cry before. But watching as Benny got him into a different position was almost heartbreaking. Listening as John openly sobbed again while he pushed, Benny grabbing a towel to lay across his lap. Ready to help one of their best friends, Brady looks at John again.

"John, you're the strongest person I know." Brady states, watching as Bucky turns his head slightly in confusion. Face pinching up slightly as he pushes, entire body tightening with it. An almost high pitched noise coming from his throat, the baby shifting in his birth canal.

Moving lower now, Benny letting out a soft sigh in relief, he wasn't sure what he was going to do if this didn't work. He just remembered watching the midwife do this to his ma when she was having his youngest sister. Brady offers his hand to John, feeling as he curls his big hand around his own slender digits, squeezing.

"Please, please I can’t. Please just…oh fuck." John whimpers out, his hand reaching back to touch the baby's head as it emerges. His body shaking a little at the strain, Benny bringing the towel up to try and help dab away the blood. John whining at the burning rough feeling of it touching ripped skin, breathing deeply as he pushes again. Brady peeking down and letting out a little incredulous laugh.

"Holy shit! John! It's right there! Keep going!" Brady says as he looks at his friend, wrapping his hand around Bucky's bicep slightly. Squeezing gently while Benny shifts to try and help the baby out. John sobbing as the head comes out all of the way, Benny quickly grabbing for the cord wrapped around the baby's neck.

Unraveling it before John is pushing again, the shoulders beginning to come out. Benny hooks his thumb under one shoulder, carefully and gently helping the baby slide out into the towel. John falling into the couch slightly, panting and shaking, waiting for his baby's cries to fill the air.

"John!? Mr. Egan! It's the midwife, Carole!" A woman calls as she comes rushing into the house, gasping softly as she sees the three men. John quivering where he's kneeling against the couch, a wet cry filling the air from the baby.

Bucky letting out a deep heaving sigh of relief, tears welling in his eyes again as he tries to reach back for his baby. Brady quickly going to help him, Benny passing the baby through John's thighs. Before John is accepting his newborn against his chest, his white shirt was already soaked through. Blood, amniotic fluids, sweat, and probably tears marking the material.

"They’re so tiny...will they be okay?" John asks after they've got him situated so the midwife can check him over. It having taken Brady, Benny, and Carole all to carefully shuffle John around. A towel being placed under him now to cushion his butt, his back resting against the couch in his exhaustion. An ambulance having been rung when John’s power suddenly flickered on, both Brady and Benny hovering nervously.

Placentas had been birthed one at a time, much less intense than either of the babies had been. His legs splayed out in a butterfly like position, adrenaline still coursing through him. Muscles shaking and quivering from all of it, Carole between his legs making sure everything has passed. He was still slightly in shock that there were two babies inside of him and not the one he had originally thought.

The baby in John's arms is staring up at him, pretty blue eyes the exact same shade as his father's. Cornflower blue, with John's nose, pink plush lips just like his sister's. Brady holding her now, smiling softly as he looks at both of the babies. Benny kneeling next to John still, holding a glass of water to help the older man sip at slowly.

"They are both small, but they were also born close to six weeks early. The fact that they both cried after they were born is really important, you did amazingly well John. I'm so sorry I couldn't get here sooner. You have some tearing so I'll have to stitch you, but you did incredibly well. The ambulance is going to have to take you three in, they will most likely keep you for observations too." John nods softly and looks down at his son again, wincing when the midwife adjusts his legs. Rubbing his fingers down the gooey head of his son, dark just like his own hair but straight. Not a single curl in sight, watching as the baby turns his head and roots around slightly. John carefully adjusts him, helping him to his nipple, sucking in a breath at the odd sensation.

"What's his name Bucky?" Benny asks softly as he watches his fiancé hold Ruth, John smiling softly as he runs his hand down the side of his son's face. Feeling as he suckles at his nipple, before he looks over at his daughter. Sleeping peacefully in Brady's arms, he knew he would have to wake her soon to try to feed her too. His hand reaching out to gently brush over her matted down little curls, her little nose scrunching up in her sleep.

"Milo...Milo Curtis." John says the middle name quietly, Brady looking up at him in understanding. Brushing his hand over Ruth's hair gently, watching as her little face scrunches slightly. Smiling a little when he sees some of John’s features shining through. Looking back at John before all of them are looking over at the ambulance pulling up outside of John’s home.

———————

“You must be their mama…my name is Julie, I’ll be watching over them. And from my understanding a happy birthday is in order for these two…December 27th, 1945. They made their arrival a few weeks early eh?” A nurse asks smiling softly as she looks at both of the twins in their little incubators. Ruth had taken her turn to nurse on the ride over, Brady had ridden over with them all. Midwife Carole also staying with John, knowing how terrified John was at the moment.

The twins were doing well all the way up until they had gotten onto the maternity ward, when suddenly Ruth’s little lips turned a blue shade. Then Milo was sounding like he was choking, and both babies had been taken to the specialty ward. While John had been taken to a separate room, Brady had stayed with John, unable to go with the twins. While Carole relayed everything to the doctor on call, explaining what had happened. Before she had promptly told the doctor to leave the room, his derogatory remarks were not needed.

Which was how John found himself with the head midwife at Carole’s clinic coming in to take care of him personally. The man finally being allowed to go in and see his babies, both of them looking tiny. Little breathing tubes in their noses, but they were relatively healthy. The midwife had assured him they wouldn’t be in here long, they just needed a little help with breathing.

But because they had already nursed well from John it was a good sign, it meant they were developed well. They had just made their arrival early, that was the case for most twins according to Carole. She was upset with herself for missing that there were two the entire time, but it was also not an exact science. John had delivered two beautiful, healthy babies with little to no assistance.

“I’m…I’m sorry, what did you say the date was today ma’am?” John asks as he looks at the nurse, the woman smiling from where she’s been gently adjusting the little blankets on the sleeping babies. John staring at her for a moment, before he’s looking back down at his children again.

“It’s December 27th, Carole said you’d delivered both of them mid afternoon. Around 2 and 245, this dang freak storm really knocked a lot out for a lot of people. She also said you did a lot of it by yourself, that isn’t something many mothers can say. You did an excellent job, they won’t be in here for very long.” Julie tells him, John looking at his babies with a little bit of sadness that they were even in the incubators to begin with.

If his body had done what it was supposed to, they would still be safely inside of him still. Maybe if he hadn’t of tried to move the crib, if he had rested more, if he had drank more water, there had to be something that he could have done to prevent this. He watches as both babies sleep peacefully, wishing he could hold them both again. Julie stepping out after a few minutes to give John some time with his babies.

“I’m sorry…mama is sorry.” John whispers as he sits there, the tears beginning to fall before he can stop. His entire body was sore, his groin was on fire, he had stitches, he was bloated still. He just wanted to be at home, he wanted to be up in his bed with his babies in their bassinet.

John lets himself cry quietly as he sits in the wheel chair that was provided for him, situated between the twins incubators. He lets himself feel the emotions without having to tamp them down, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Needing to let it all out, every feeling he had had that was bottled up spilling out.

-2 weeks later-

“Gale…wow, how are you?” Brady says in shock as he looks at the tall blond standing on his porch, Brady wiping his hands off on a towel. Clocking the bag next to Gale’s feet on the ground, the older smiles softly as he looks at his old comrade. Tooth pick tucked into the corner of his mouth, aviators slid into the breast pocket of his button up shirt. He’s trying not to stuff his hands in his pants or wipe his sweating palms down.

“Hey Johnny…I’m sorry to drop by unannounced, I was passing through. Thought I’d stop by and say hi.” Gale responds as he relents and tucks his hands into his pockets, smiling at the younger man. Before he’s being enveloped in a hug, looking up when he hears footsteps.

Seeing Benny coming from the kitchen, not realizing that someone is at the front door as he opens his mouth to talk. Wiping his hands off on a dish towel, fingers stained with cream colored paint. The tanned man having been working on finishing up the second crib for the twins, not that they would need it soon. But Benny was bored, he had two weeks left before he got to go back to the air field.

“Johnny, do you know if Bucky liked that pasta dish I made last time? Was going to make extra and drop it off for him…oh…oh hi Buck.” Benny says eyes widening slightly when he sees the blond, Brady’s body having gone stiff for a moment. Pulling away from Gale slowly, he turns towards his fiancé with a little glare.

While Gale stands there, chewing on the toothpick in the corner of his mouth. Brain finally registering that they’ve said the name of the man he’s been searching for. He had gone to Manitowoc first, but the first person he came across at the bus station had told him John had been long gone. There was plenty of gossip and rumors around town, some as crazy as John being pregnant were floating from what Gale could make out.

“I uh, I didn’t know John lived around here…”

“Yea, not many people do.” Brady responds, his voice slightly clipped now, as he looks at his old Major, seeing the way he shifts slightly. Their eyes meeting as Gale realizes Brady must know something about John that he doesn’t. A little sour twirl starting to spin in his stomach as he stands there, before Benny comes closer. Chewing on his lower lip, knowing he opened his mouth when he shouldn’t have. Gale clears his throat softly as he stands there, taking a deep breath and suddenly wishing he had a cigarette. He had started kicking it about two weeks ago, after he had spilled everything to Marge.

“Does he live close by?”

“Listen Gale, I know to an extent what happened. I don’t know if John would want you to come around unannounced. You can stay with us if you want to, or there’s a motel in town. But, I don’t know if I should tell you where he’s at. He’s my friend too.” Brady states as he looks at his Major, seeing the way he swallows thickly. Jaw feathering just slightly where he’s got it clenched, the tooth pick in his mouth bending just a sliver. Benny looks at his fiancé, before he takes a deep breath. Deciding against his better judgement as he looks back at Gale. Watching as the blond nods his head slightly, before Brady is stepping back into the house.

“He lives down at the end on this side…if you make me regret telling you…Johnny is gonna come for both of us.” Gale nods softly in understanding, before Benny is reaching down for his bag. Quietly sliding it into the house by the front closet, nodding his head at his friend. Gale stepping down from the porch and going down the street in the direction that Benny pointed. Benny not hearing as Brady steps closer to him, leaning against the wall slightly.

“You better know what you’re doing Bernard. Or I’ll hold the twins while John digs your grave.” Brady says from where he’s standing in the front entry way, Benny turning to look at his fiancé. Both of them letting out deep sighs, the door being closed quietly.

——————

John hums softly as he lounges on the porch swing, Ruth and Milo tucked into his chest. They had just gotten home from the hospital two days ago, and John was in the trenches. John was a mess for the entire week and a half stay that they were all there. He had refused to come home without them, they had moved a bed into the room for him. Letting him be close to his babies, knowing it settled all of them.

His foot gently sways them all in the swing, the little breeze ruffling through his hair. The babies sleeping peacefully after their most recent feed, he was struggling with it. Struggling to make sure they got enough, if one wanted to nurse then the other was suddenly wanting to nurse. Or if he finished with one, the other was waking up ready to eat.

His supply wasn’t quite where it needed to be, in his opinion. But the midwife was happy with their weight gain over the last few weeks. Especially Milo, he had been born at only 4 lbs and 1 oz. While Ruth had been 5 lbs even, he had some catching up to do. Both of them were healthy though, and John was healing slowly.

He opens his eyes as he hears footsteps coming towards his house, expecting to see Benny or Brady. The two of them were consistently bringing him dinners, and had made sure his fridge was stocked for him to come home to. Choking slightly on his spit when he sees golden blond hair, gelled to perfection.

“Hi John…” Gale says as he stops on the sidewalk, eyes flitting over the older man, widening slightly when he sees the two babies resting on his chest. Mouth opening before closing, watching as John slowly rises from the swing. An almost pained limp to his walk, slowly coming around the banister on the porch. Clutching the two babies closer to his chest, both of them wearing cream colored sleep gowns. Little bodies tucked into half crescents, tiny toes and feet sticking out of the bottom of their sleepers.

“I, you.”

“Did you come here to take them to your precious Marge?“ John cuts him off, Gale wincing a bit at the almost hostile tone to the older man’s voice. Gale stepping a little closer on the sidewalk, watching as John steps backwards on the porch. His deep blue eyes not leaving Gale’s face, the usual warmth and tenderness that was always there before was now gone. Something twisting painfully in his chest, before John’s words are becoming clear in his head.

“They’re mine?”

“Of course they are yours, who else’s would they be? I know I was the slut on base but I never…” John trails off as he takes a deep breath, frowning softly and turning his head to glare at the tree in his front yard. He hates that tree, but he didn’t want to cut it down either, bringing in a deep inhale trying not to work himself up. Hearing Gale shuffle slightly on the sidewalk, looking back over at the blond man. Seeing him staring at his shoes, glaring slightly at the sidewalk.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gale questions quietly, trying not to be angry but unable to bury all of it. He deserved to know that he was having children, he deserved that little bit. He looks up to see John staring back down at him, the babies on his chest looking tiny. Curled up in small balls, so little they could probably fit in one of John’s arms comfortably. One blonde haired and the other dark brown almost black, little curls sitting on one head while pin straight hair sat on the other. He couldn’t see their faces, could barely make out their profiles from where he was standing.

“You were the one who didn’t want me to tell anyone what happened. The one who said we would write, call, still see one another. And then refused to look at me when you left…so I took it as a sign. We don’t need you…we’re fine without you.” John says as he looks at Gale, watching as his jaw clenches. The setting sun hitting his face just right, accenting the wetness brewing on Gale’s lash lines. Something twisting painfully in John’s chest, even as he curls the babies closer.

Ruthie making a soft sound, nuzzling close to his nipple through his shirt. Rooting around as she smells her mama close to her, John stiffening slightly as he feels the tingling sensation in his chest. He did not want to pull his shirt up in front of Gale and all the block to see. But the thought of Ruthie starting to cry made his stomach twist and snarl itself.

“They’re half of me; half of you. I deserve to be in their lives John. That isn’t fair.” Gale watches as John slowly lifts his head up to look at him, before he’s stepping off the porch. Walking up to Gale so there’s only a foot of space between them, the blond fighting to keep his eyes up from the babies. Even if he catches the wet patches starting to form on John’s white t-shirt. Seeing the burning fire in John’s deep ocean orbs, his breath catching. Almost able to feel the anger radiating off of the older man.

“What wasn’t fair was how you asked me to not tell anyone what happened. What wasn’t fair was you fucking me and knowing you were going back to Marge. What wasn’t fair was making me fall in love with you just to rip it all away Gale.” John seethes as he stands there, looking at the blond haired man with venom in his eyes. His jaw clenched so tightly that Gale is worried for a second he’s going to crack a tooth.

Flinching slightly at what John has to say, he knew John would never raise a hand to him. If anything it had been Gale who had hit John in the past, he still remembers the crack of John’s nose in the stalag. He still remembered watching the blood bloom, the pain in his own chest a bare minimum to the knowledge that he had hurt the man he loves.

“I…Marge and I aren’t…I left her because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I missed you like someone would miss a limb. I love you John…and I have for a long time. I’m sorry I hurt you. I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to get to know them.” Gale states as he looks at the older man, seeing the way his nose twitches slightly. His fingers tightening just a little around the babies cradled in his arms. Both of them now turning their heads to nuzzle close to his chest.

Gale wanting to reach out and touch their tiny feet that are exposed, wanting to know if they are as soft as they look. The little wrinkles on the soles of their feet looking like velvet. Their profiles more in view for him now, admiring the gentle slopes and curves of their faces. Skin the fresh pink of new babies who haven’t gotten used to the outside world yet.

“I was a good enough hole for you to fuck…you don’t love me Gale. You love what I gave you. Go away and don’t come back. Your biggest mistake was coming here. I don’t need you. They don’t need you.” John states before he’s turning around, wincing at the tugging in between his legs. He can feel that he’s damp and wet, he needs to change his padding. But he refused to let it slow down or hinder his determined march to his house.

Slowly climbing the four wooden stairs onto his porch, he opens the front door and nudges it closed with his foot. Gale watching him go, now understanding how John felt at the train station when Gale went home to Casper. His heart aching like John ripped out half of it and took it with him. He stands there for a few more seconds before he feels the rain drops coming.

[ladycryptid1894]

CW: cum eating

POV I just sucked the soul and 2 orgasms out of his cock:

My tongue collects every drop and rope of cum in a small puddle, holding back my instinct to swallow before I pull my mouth off of your overstimulated cock with a saccharine smile. You feel my body roll against yours as I straddle you, my hips teasingly humping over your spent and messy cock, locking eyes while I stick 2 fingers into his mouth and pushing down so his jaw hangs lower to pull his tongue out. I open my mouth letting your orgasm roll off my tongue and onto yours, giving you a taste of your delicious spend before swiping the flat of your tongue with mine. You’re unable to hold in the drawn out whimpers that escape your throat as you swallow it down. You swear you feel my wet heat flutter over your cock before moving my hips, spreading the arousal dripping from my pussy all over you. 

“You taste too good to not share, you’re my perfect little cumslut.” Your eyes roll back in ecstasy as he tries to lift his head up to look at me, barely able to move without my help. 

My poor boy is panting like a dog and barely manages to whimper, “F-f-fuck tha-thank you, mo-mommy.” 

My expression softens for a moment and I coo, “I’m so lucky to have such a good boy to take care of, you’re doing so well for me and I’m so proud of you.” You absolutely melt into a puddle and your cock jumps against my unrelenting pussy, getting increasingly sensitive. 

“M-mom-mommy? I-i don’t think i- ha! I d-don’t know if I c-can– I’m getting c-cl-” 

I hush him with a thumb to his bottom lip, pulling it down with a soft command. “Ssssh sh sh sh sh open.” You are just so obedient, my pretty boy's slutty mouth opens, lolling out his tongue for me as my thumb travels down your chin before I grip your chin with a gentle but firm hand. My pace on his hips only slows down a single beat.

Good boy. 

You look so irresistable and adorable all fucked out with the rosiness of your cheeks and the silent desperate plea in your eyes, my hips continuously grinding and rolling along your twitching cock. Can’t help but wrap my fingers around your throat with my other hand when I let a stream of saliva drop from my tongue to yours. 

Swallow. 

You curl that slutty tongue back into your mouth and I feel your throat expand under my grip when you follow my command. I tilt my head and yank you up, crashing your lips into mine in a heated kiss punctuated with another pornographic buck of the hips, causing you to let out the cutest whimper that gets swallowed in our venereal exchange. 

I pull my lips from yours with a dark chuckle. “You look so pretty all dumb and fucked out like this,” I punctuate with a tender kiss between your brows before a sinister grin spreads across my face. “You’re gonna give me one more.” 

“W-wait wh-, hoooo ok-kay,” A frantic protesting whimper dissolves into resigned submission, all the words milked out of him except for “F-fuck than-hnk you mom-my, y-yes mommy.” You tug at the cuffs on your wrists, needing to touch me anywhere on my body, but unable to do so. 

“That’s my good boy,” My hips now align with the swollen tip of your cherry'd cock, making you gasp with a pornographic groan. “Now take it.” Your cock plunges into my sobbing pussy, a chorus of filthy moans rising from us as I sink my hips down onto you, relishing in the tight stretch before lifting my hips off. Setting a tantalizing pace, I push myself slightly further and further down onto you, splitting myself open more and more. 

“Fuuck mommy, y-you’re so w-wet and f-fucking ti-ight!” You look up to me with unadulterated devotion with drool running down the sides of your pouting lips. “F-feels so g-good.” 

I hum in approval as I slam my hips down all the way, taking you to the hilt into my pulsating pussy that grips you like a vice. My soft hands slide up and down your restrained arms, holding onto them for purchase as my pace starts to gradually increase, fucking you at a torturous rhythm with barely contained self-control as my juices drip down your balls and create a pool on the sheets. 

I gasp as I slam you down directly onto my g spot, “Hah, just like that nnggghhh!” Skin against skin echoing off the walls alongside our lewd gasps and groans, “You’re taking it so well, shi-shit!” 

It takes every ounce of self-control for you to be good and not to buck up when you feel your pleasure coil in your lower belly way sooner than you wanted, it just feels way too good for your body to resist. “W-wait, I’m g-getting c-close, mo-” I mash my lips into yours and swallow your moans while I thrust hard and deep with an obscene roll of the hips. “F-fu-fu-fu mmmm” your whimpers are swallowed down my throat while I fuck the everloving shit out of you now at a brutal pace, my pretty doll taking it so well. “W-wa-wai-wait wait w- shit, ‘s too much, too much, I can’t- fuuck!!” You exclaim as your orgasm builds and builds, your body thrashes and writhes under me trying desperately to escape before I suddenly stop thrusting and pin you back down by your throat. I look down on you, my beautiful little mess beneath me, my other hand dragging my nails back down your arm and down your chest, grazing over a sensitive nipple.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, sweetheart,” I tut, leaning my lips towards his ear to tug the lobe lightly between my teeth with a warm sigh on your neck, sending wave after wave of chills down your body. I lightly drag my teeth along the dark hickeys decorating your neck. “I’ve developed a taste for you now. You can give me one more, right? I promise this’ll be the last.”

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t :D

[junicult]

hey girlie are you okay?

hey!!! first of all, thank you for asking, you’re very sweet. second of all, yes! i’m okay!

let me explain why i’ve been gone for a few months

i kinda mentioned this a few posts ago, i went through (still sorta am) a longterm breakup recently! it was just a bit hard to be able to find interest in a lot of things i used to love for a while, that’s just how breakups go! nothing too serious, it just so happened to be my first breakup and uhm if ur wlw then you know how that goes LOLL. so other then that, i’m doing just fine!

now here’s probably what you all wanna hear and please still believe me when i say this; i am planning on posting again😭😭

unfortunately, i’ve experienced a lot of burnout recently when it comes to my longer, listed hc posts. although i have written a loooaadd of drabbles based on singular characters (mostly harvey surprise surprise) but i’m aware that my hcs are what people really like, and i like posting what you guys are more interested in! i’ve sort of told myself that since i’ve taken such a long break by now, i need to post something that’ll make everyone happy. like it needs to be some “grand gesture” or whatever. whether or not that’s the case, my mind just tells me that lol.

soooooo therefore i have piles and piles of ideas and little one off thirsts / drabbles stacked up in my drafts, yet all of my hcs are untouched (bit of writers block, i’d say.)

it also just so happens that my one year of posting on this blog just passed the other day. i looked up what kind of things a 1 year old does, so my blog is apparently able to pull itself up to stand, can now walk while holding onto furniture, AND can officially say single words!! so proud.

i’m glad there’s still interest in my blog though! that means so very much to me!!!

[blixabargelds]

Frankie I was coming to tell you that you posting Louis Hofmann led to me developing a bit of a hyperfixation and discovering last night that he’s currently a London based DJ (because I have no one else to share this information with) but I saw your earlier post so I’ll tell you: I like you and remember you and am proud of you and will wait for you and won’t forget you and think you have (way way more than) a single shred of worth and that you’ll get your brain back at some point soon and you don’t have to disappear forever.

When I first started mood stabilizers I said the same thing about how I’d rather be unstable and creative. I felt like a zombie. I couldn’t do anything. It was so depressing. Everything felt worse. I hesitate to say that because like that’s not great to hear but it’s the truth. Mood stabilizers are a bitch and all my homies hate them but I swear once you get things worked out they’re better.

But please don’t think you’re without worth and please don’t disappear! I’m not being hollow telling you these things either. I’m lowkey parasocial because my social anxiety is too bad to try and be normal and just talk and try to become mutuals but I still thought of you when I read about Louis. I just finished Dark. I’m about to watch Prelude after you posted about it. Your online presence is more than just being a mota writer. You’re still so interesting and creative. If you disappeared I’d forever think of Frankie aka user blixabargelds aka hart.

Sorry this is long winded and probably weird… but hang in there. It’ll get better with the meds!

yeah he is 😭😭 his mixes are here lmaoo also he has very good playlists on his spotify kfjfkfh when i found this out me and elo were like ????? no ofc this makes sense. he’s played in a club i’ve been to in berlin sadly not when i was there tho lol anyways louis hofmann boilerroom set opening with the dark theme tune the same way my nu leng opened their HÖR set with the annihilation score when ?? would say louis HÖR set bc berlin however we don’t fuck w asking artists to remove pro palestine clothing and then shut down their sets when they don’t sooo boilerroom it is pls anyway that’s my. djing rant

noo this is all so so sweet thank you so much 🥺 and really reassuring honestly. i know i just have to be patient it’s just like. head feels like a brick in a washing machine rn like everything has happened so fast from like going truly off the rails to narrowly avoiding hospital to getting diagnosed to getting put on this drug that is meant to help but feels like it’s killing my brain and my doctors are still tweaking it so i’ve not even been on the right dose for longer than a week yet they’ve just been fucking around with it for like a month after all the ✨drama✨ and like. objectively i need to be soo patient w myself but it’s so hard when writing is the thing that brings me joy and sadly i could do that when i was convinced i could see into the future and float peacefully if i hopped off smth tall and i can’t do it now i’m Stabilising and like. accepting that this is for the best even if it feels like getting repeatedly slugged in the meantime is soo hard ough. but thank you thank you sorry for my ramble lmfaoo but really you have made me feel a lot better in this moment 🥺 ❤️ i hope you are enjoying louis’ unhinged catalogue as much as i am loll

also incredibly sweet and mildly amusing ngl to think of someone being parasocial with me fkhfdkhd but i am literally just a bug and and guy and weird and dorky please don’t feel too anxious to come off anon if u ever feel like it!! xxx

[landscaping-your-mind]

Every Time Mirrors are Mentioned in Welcome to Night Vale that is Halfway Relevant

[Plain text: "Every Time Mirrors are Mentioned in Welcome to Night Vale that is Halfway Relevant"]

Unabridged

Episodes featured: 19A, 26, 30, 33, 67, 87, 106, 108, 120, 122, 137, 148, 149, 160, 171, 209

Liveshows featured: "The Librarian," "The Investigators,"

CECIL: And now, a look at financial news. A fallow wheat field, grey sky, cut by black Vs of black birds. There is a child dragging a hatchet. His eyes cast down. His eyes tight. His eyes white and red and superfluous. He know not what he sees, but he knows what is there. A single black-wingéd beast, beak cracked, feathers rotting, alights roughly on the child's shoulder. They stop. The bird picks at the cartilage of the boy's ear, as if biting secrets into it. The boy groans, not unpleasantly. Heavy, slow clouds roll and rise, starkly contrasted against the flickering daguerreotype hills, which stoically keep the poisonous rains at bay. A sudden little river, partially walled by palsied shafts of grain, rolls by. The boy walks to it. He bends forward. His blank eyes stare into his reflection. Neither he nor his mirror knows the other is there. But the bird. The bird knows. The bird cackles. Or perhaps cries. Even the bird is uncertain. The boy takes a palm full of the dark water. Most of it runs out through his long, zig-zagging fingers. He licks the remainder from his dusty skin. A sound. Like thunder. Like drums. Like steps. The boy turns and hurls his hatchet behind him. The bird flies up and away. There is a hideous thump. The boy knows not what he has hit, but that it has been wounded. He waits for its retort. This has been financial news.

(Episode 19A - The Sandstorm)

CECIL: Maybe you should try paying more attention when you're at home. Or better yet, destroy all of your mirrors. As my mother used to tell me: "Someone's going to kill you one day, Cecil, and it will involve a mirror. Mark my words, child." and then she would stare absently through my eyes until I giggled. I miss her so much. 

(Episode 26 - Faceless Old Woman)

CECIL: McDonald’s wants to remind you that the most important meal of the day is Breakfast. So why would you let a morning go by without staring deeply into the mirror until you no longer recognize the face staring back at you, mimicking your every gesture, mocking your every movement.

(Episode 30 - Dana)

TEENAGE CECIL: My mom seems really proud of me too. She hid from me for three days, the longest ever! And she’s covered all the mirrors in my house. I’m not sure why, but I think it must be because of pride. Being proud does all sorts of things to a...person. Uh, sorry, got distracted. That weird movement is back. It’s closer now.

TEENAGE CECIL: Interning is going great! Mom is gone. Leonard is super nice to me. My brother is gone too. Family, right? I think I’m learning a lot at the station. All of the mirrors in my house are uncovered now. Not sure who did that. I’m standing in front of the hall mirror right now. Am I changed? Am I becoming an adult? I look more grown, I think, more professional. Leonard said if I work hard, maybe I’ll be a radio presenter myself some day. Leonard said he once was smaller too, but that he is larger now, that everything is larger, that everything in the universe is growing to towering sizes, but all at once, all in unison, so no one notices and it is all the same relative to itself. Leonard lolls his tongue out of his thick purple lips. Leonard hisses. Being an intern is great. That flickering movement is everywhere now. Especially looking in this mirror. I see the flickering movement and I know. I know it. I think the radio station is fun. I think the radio station is hidden. I think the radio station is like a dark planet, lit by no sun. I think, therefore I soon won’t be. I’m looking in a mirror. The mirror is not covered. The flickering movement is just behind me. I- [He screams. There is gurgling. A body falls to the floor. Tape hiss continues. The tape shuts off. End teenage voice]

CECIL: No matter! I’m taking the tape, just now and I’m [GRUNTS] crushing it into little pieces. None of us have to think about it again. I’ll just double check that the mirror in the station bathroom is covered as usual and then that will be that. Done. Forgotten. 

(Episode 33 - Cassette)

CECIL: The City Council warned that the mess left from Leonard Burton’s death is likely to draw Street Cleaners and that we should all take shelter. Cover your mirrors. Shade your eyes. Stay indoors and mourn. Stay indoors and mourn.

(Episode 67 - [Best Of?])

CECIL: Item: Big Ricos Pizza is looking for a new cashier. Must have retail experience and be good at not talking if they know what’s good for them. No funny business. No secret wheat speakeasies. Why would you even bring that up? Who have you been talking to? To apply, look at yourself in the mirror for a long time, until your face no longer seems to be your own.

(Episode 87 - The Trial of Hiram McDaniels)

CECIL: I was so frightened, but still I looked into the washroom. He was standing in front of a mirror, looking right at himself. I never look into those things. Or at least I haven't in a long long time.  "I think the radio station is fun," he said. "I think the radio station is hidden. I think the radio station is like a dark planet, lit by no sun. I think, therefore I soon won’t be," he said.  I wanted to cry out to warn him. My mother told me to stay away from mirrors. And I knew he was in danger. I opened my mouth and tried to step into the room, but I could not speak, could not move forward.  "I’m looking in a mirror," he said.  "The mirror is not covered," he said. "Stop. Don't look into the mirror," I tried to say. But nothing came out of my mouth, only spit and inaudible wheeze. Tears stung my eyes. I waved frantically, trying to catch his attention. "The flickering movement is just behind me," he said. And then he looked right at me in the mirror. His eyes grew wide and wet. He said "I-. He said again "I-" and then he choked. Then he screamed. Then I screamed, only again no sound came out. He fell to the floor, and for a moment I remembered. I remembered blue lights and blood in my throat and a dark planet lit by no sun. And then I forgot it, or at least what it looked like, only that it was. Or never was. Or still is. His wallet was no longer in my studio. His...my driver’s license was no longer in my hand. My familiar teenage intern was no longer lying on the ground. The mirror he was looking into is now shattered into thousands of intersecting cracks like parched desert dirt. I approached the mirror, hoping to see a face I knew. A young man's face I just barely remember. But I only saw a multiplicity of me, a man divided, unrecognizably, under razor sharp lines. And behind me a glowing slash in the bathroom wall.

(Episode 106 - Filings)

CECIL: "Better not look in the mirror," Cal said as he nervously simulated the sound of laughter. A dribble of blood ran down his chin and onto his chest.

(Episode 108 - Cal)

KEVIN: Jason and Falisha wanted their friends to know they were happy, so they began to practice smiling in the mirror, but even they couldn't see a change in their faces. Plus, mirrors were upsetting because of all the people who would gather behind them in the reflection but that weren't actually there when they turned around to face them.

KEVIN: Their long house was a long pit. And every single mirror in their home was gone, along with the ghastly figures who gathered in the reflections. 

(Episode 120 - All Smiles' Eve)

CECIL: Nazr did not see Barks Ennui. But he was not without his own troubles. He would find, some evenings, that when he looked in the mirror there were two of him. One of him sitting behind the other. He would stand and the second reflection would stand too. It would follow all of his movements from behind his primary reflection. This went on for days. Then, one night, he looked in the mirror and there was only one of him. He sighed, feeling some relief to the tension that had been with him so long as to become his new normal. And that is when, in the mirror, his second reflection stepped into the room, followed by Frances Donaldson. Nazr whirled. The room he was in was empty. He looked back in the mirror. There was his own face, terrified. And behind that, on the bed, there was himself again, with Frances. The two of them were kissing, passionately. He watched himself kiss. And then his reflection and the Frances in the mirror stopped kissing and looked up at him, with startled faces. They stayed frozen that way, and he stayed frozen too. After several moments, the mirror couple smiled. Their smiles got wider and wider, and then they were both dead, blood covered and sprawling at irregular angles. And then they were alive again and smiling at him. He shouted and stumbled back from the mirror. From then on, he took to covering his mirrors, and that worked for a few days, but then one day he came home to find himself in his bedroom, already sitting in front of the covered bedroom mirror. The him that was in his bedroom looked up at him who had just entered with wide eyes and a yawning mouth, and Nazr (who believed himself to be the real Nazr) turned and walked out his house. He checked into a motel and decided to stay there for awhile.

(Episode 122 - A Story of Love and Horror, Part 2: "Spire")

LAUREN: These shadows don't even have faces. We cannot discern their intentions or feelings. They move around in quick jerks and starts, flickering in and out of our vision, sometimes standing just behind us while slowly tilting their heads. And unless you're looking in a mirror, there's no way you can even see that. 

(Episode 137 - The Mudstone Abyss, Part 3)

LEONARD BURTON: Let me describe to you the shape of Cecil Palmer. He is a line of leafless mesquite trees. He is a glass factory. He is golf ball-sized hail. He has a voice like distant highway traffic. He loves coffee and handshakes. He wears tight clothing and has never once worked with modeling clay. He covers mirrors with cloth and has an irrational fear of glowing lights beneath locked doors in dark hallways.  You cannot know any of this because Cecil is my vision, not yours. He is real, all the same. He is to be my replacement when I retire. But he does not exist. So I can never retire. I am your permanent host.

(Episode 148 - The Broadcaster)

CECIL: I can see myself in their reflective face. I... I do not like this. I do not like this at all. Please go. Please leave. I cannot. I... I am covering this window with a sheet. I do not like this mirror. I do not like it one bit. No. 

(Episode 149 - The General)

CECIL: ... [somber] and *that* is what I saw in the mirror that day, and why I do not like to go near mirrors ever. 

(Episode 160 - The Weather)

CECIL: Do you ever stare at yourself for so long in the mirror that you no longer understand what you look like? Is this the same effect as thinking about someone you miss so much that you forget the shape of their face? Why would you do that? Why would you refuse to maintain order? Are you refusing? Or are you a victim of your own mind? Do brain cells dictate souls? Is thought matter? Does thought matter? Who can say? Can the person looking back at you from the mirror tell you the answer? Just because you can see a person, does that mean that person exists?  Is it you you are looking at? Or is it someone else?

CECIL: Basically, why do I know I am me? How many times have I seen myself in the mirror? Is it bad that the answer is rarely? Shouldn’t we all be afraid of mirrors? Or is it just me? How many times, in a fit of dissociation, do we see someone else behind us? Are you, too, too afraid to turn around? Do you really want to challenge the veracity of your eyes? Do you think disbelief in death will make it disappear? Are awareness and manifestation one and the same? So, what did I see in the mirror today? Don’t we all see the same thing? Isn’t it a person who looks exactly like ourselves? And weren’t they making the same physical gestures? And behind that person, in the reflection, did you not also see, just over your shoulder, a pair of eyes? The curve of a head? And did you notice how that head was human in shape but maybe only a third the size?

CECIL: Who is behind you in the mirror? Or what is behind you? Should I speak in present or past tense? Is the face there? Or is the face gone now? Are you no longer at the mirror? Do you feel safer? Why do you assume that because you aren’t looking in the mirror right now that the tiny face and spiny digits are not still behind you?

CECIL: Are you thinking about it? Are you starting to forget exactly what it looks like? Do you want to go to the mirror again? Do you want to stare and stare at it until you can comprehend what it is?

CECIL: What if we went to the mirror together? If we don’t feel alone in our feelings, could we conquer our fears? Are we in agreement, you and I? What are you even looking at? Is your focus drifting to your shoulder? Can you not do that? Can you resist the urge? What will staring directly into your terror accomplish?

CECIL: When was the last time you saw your mother? It’s been since childhood, hasn’t it? Didn’t she warn you about mirrors? Didn’t she tell you they would be your demise? Or was that just a popular bedtime story?

CECIL: What did your mother tell you about swing sets? What did she say to you when you yelled to her for help? Did she lean over your sobbing face and ask you: “Why are you crying when you don’t even exist?” Did she tell you again about the mirror?

CECIL: Did you figure it out? Could you see past your own mental inventions? Who out there looked beyond the long, gape-jawed figure and its inexplicable whines? Did you see the table? There in the mirror image of your house, did you see the table? You hadn’t noticed the table before, had you?

CECIL: Why was the table only in the mirror? Why isn’t it real?

CECIL: What’s inside the drawer of the rickety table in the mirror? What other uncanny discoveries await you if you could just break through? Is it as simple as breaking through?

CECIL: Do you want to know what’s in the drawer below the table? Shouldn’t it be as easy to obtain as a lightweight, wool button up coat, all black? But nothing easy ever is, is it? How do you get to a table that’s right in front of you, but only visible in a mirror?

CECIL: Are you only concentrating on the table now? And you’re sure it only exists in the mirror? You double checked? Do you want to know what’s inside the drawer on the front of that table? Are you willing to break something? Are you willing to break the mirror, yes, but so much more? Are you willing to go to a place from which you cannot return? Are you willing to learn things you cannot unlearn? Do you have a hammer? Or if not, can you find something heavy that you can lift? Will you smash the mirror? Will you do it quickly? Why are you hesitating? Have you let your comfortability lapse into carelessness? Why did you take your eyes off the creature on your neck? Did you see the blood or feel the pain first? Is it tearing into your flesh? Is that why you’re screaming? Can you still break the mirror? Are you losing consciousness? Are you? Are you? Are you?

CECIL: If you look into the mirror you just smashed do you see that the creature is gone? Cool, right? But isn’t it strange that all about you on the floor are shards of the mirror you shattered, yet in front of you, the mirror remains, fully intact? Strange? Or scary? Wouldn’t you think that the mirror being simultaneously broken and unbroken is strange, while the fact that you have no reflection is scary? Is that true though? Do you have a reflection? Do you see yourself? On the floor of the mirror’s world? Is your body crumpled on the floor like a wet towel? Is your lower jaw hanging open because you died screaming, or because of gravity? Do you have a blanket of some sort? Why don’t you cover that mirror up? Why don’t you cover all the mirrors, in fact? While you are walking about your home, do you notice the antique table by the door, with its tarnished, yet ornate, brass bulb knob? Was that table always there? Did you enter the mirror world? Or were you always in the mirror world? What else is different around you?

CECIL: Now what? Will you cover the mirrors and sweep the floor and pretend it never happened? Will this prevent it from happening again? Are awareness and manifestation one and the same?

(Episode 171 - Go to the Mirror?)

CECIL: Whatever the Distant Prince keeps behind the Narrow Place has left me hollow and shambling. Less and less of me. This time quite literally. When I looked again, I did not have a nose. It is quite upsetting to see your own face but without a nose. Think about this now. Think about looking in the mirror and seeing your face, but the nose is gone. So you will understand why I vomited in the street. And this other me, he vomited too, for exactly the same amount of time, stopping precisely when I did.

(Episode 209 - The Black Coat)

FACELESS OLD WOMAN: I am less good at being seen, but I am working on that using a system of whistles and mirrors. CECIL: Huh. Mirrors.

("The Librarian")

EARL HARLAN: Oh yes! Yes, I will wake up that morning, and I will stare at myself in the mirror repeating, “You can do this, Earl. You can do this, Earl. You can do this, Earl.” Until my reflection says, “You’re right.” And then we’ll brush each others’ teeth, and trim each others’ mustaches, and comb each others’ hair… CECIL: Awwww! EARL HARLAN: …and then step through the mirror and once again switch places in each others’ mirrored world for the day.

("The Investigators")

JEFFREY: Yeah, yeah. Yeah turns out most people are afraid of what they are, so now I’m also terrified of mirrors and reflective surfaces, so…

("ALL HAIL")

[sillysparklygal]

Curly hair wash day as an autistic person for me is sooooo so so overstimulating and tiring, but I’ve been doing a lot better at not having meltdowns when washing my hair!! :3 I’m very proud of myself loll

[yes-im-youtube-kids]

venting

I’m really proud of myself. Here’s why. I had a Very Fucky Day today. Got no sleep. Had to go to school. We have these books every year called Family Life books in religion. They were passed out today. We had to look through them to see if they had answers written in. I was looking through, and one three-page section was titled ‘gender’. I thought, “lol let’s see what fuckery is here lmao.” It was some of the most passive aggressive motherfucking disgusting bullshit I have ever seen. It was demeaning, in the most thinly veiled way. Tomorrow I can bring my book home and give direct quotes. It seriously made me want to puke. Idk what imma do when we have that lesson. Skip to lunch, when I was sitting with some ‘friends’ and gender was brought up. We discussed how “there shouldn’t be girls swimsuits with penis tucks for men,” ofc “there are two genders,” as always “trans men aren’t real men and trans women aren’t real women,” the ever brought up “trans women shouldn’t be allowed to compete in women’s sports,” “there shouldn’t be a gay section in target,” “ew why is Moana trans,” “you just can’t be anything other than male or female,” “lol ur ok with that bc ur not trans right loll.” And I made it through my entire day without yelling or screaming or crying or breaking somebody’s jaw. So I am really proud of myself.

[lqfiles]

heyy uhm thjs is my first time sending these kind of things and i js wanted to say that i really really reallyyyyy love stg, i've been reading it since chapter 10ish? but started following at about 20ish (srry abt that) and ik it doesn't mean much coming from an anonymous person but it makes me very happy (and PROUD) to see how many people are reading it now and how many asks you get :) overall im js immensely proud of you and your work

again ik it does not mean much coming from an anon but still you have no idea how great my days get when i get notis from your acc replying to questions or anons (cause i've figured it usually mean that you'll upload another chapter) ANYWAYS i've been struggling a LOT these few months, and one of the only things I seriously look up to is stg, so again, thank you SO so much :(

you don't even have to reply to this or anything (bc tbh i wouldn't know what to say either lol) but i would appreciate it if you could at least read it and know just how much power your ideas and writing actually have <3

also not sure if 50 was the last chapter (?) i was planning on writing smth like this when the smau ended BUT ITS WHATEVER RLLY !! anyways i will never be able to thank u enough for taking your time in this and genuinely putting effort and feelings on it, you are amazing !!

also im from Chile so idk if i made any mistakes while typing this… whatever i'll make sure to support you through each and every work of yours from now on ! take care <333

(god this was a little long IM SORRY again you don't have to reply to this i js hope u read it and know just how capable and dedicated you are and how happy you can make other people iwnsnsks <3)

anon you actually made me tear up wthh :(( LONG ANSWER INCOMING……

i think this is the best thing i could’ve been told and hear, and the fact that it’s anonymous doesn’t change how much your words mean to me trust me. i honestly wasn’t sure how commited i’d be to this smau since i never have managed to finish a slow burn ideas because of the lack of creativity. but i think the fact that you still kept up from such an early chapter (when i remember pointing out that i’m really just writing this without a full plot yet multiple times) is endearing and don’t worry, i don’t take it to heart that you didn’t follow me immediately loll, for all you knew this could’ve been the shittiest piece of writing and then you’d have to just unfollow lmaooo. also i think it’s cute that those who have kept up from early on until now have witnessed with me the growth of this series and the support on it 😭 i remember when 70 notes in day alone excited me and would get giddy by getting a SINGLE ask hsjdjdjd and now i’ve had chapters with 400 notes and get 10+ asks ??? i didn’t even really dwell on it that you guys who have been ogs too have seen the growth too :(( i think it’s quite funny, because last year, i rarely got any asks and barely checked on this account except for posting some drabbles here and there, and didn’t even speak to any mutuals, i remember i told myself i’d keep this a writing blog only without interacting much at all but ever since stg i’m surprised by the amount of mutuals i’ve made and how many people are really perceiving my account AND how interactive i’ve been even tho i’d usually log out immediately after posting something lmaoo! it’s cute and i appreciate you for sticking around and being proud of me !!! it honestly catches me off guard when some of you say that stg is the highlight of your day or how much you love it or how it has inspired you to start writing yourself, because i can’t comprehend myself being influential like that at ALL 😭😭 but at the same time it warms my heart every time because it makes me feel useful…? i like seeing people happy and feel inspired by something i did so seeing people be so happy of a mere chapter really does make me smile :) i’m sorry to hear that life is hard on you, but again it means a lot to me knowing stg DOES affect your day positively (can’t believe we’ll be reaching the end tho..)

this wasn’t the last chapter, i got two more and then some bonus chapters so i hope you’ll enjoy them and my future work as well anon <33 i’ll continue to pour my effort and feelings into my writing love you and thank you for making time to write this !!!

[glittertimes]

I always hear therapists say that the reason ppl blame themselves for mistreatment rather than the ppl who mistreated them (especially kids who are mistreated by their caregivers) is bc it gives you some sense of control like “If I just fix this one thing no one can hurt me anymore.”

I keep trying to find flaws in myself that made me stay in this unfulfilling relationship for so long and I just keep finding reasons to like myself more and be kinder to myself? 😭

Like I cared so much and I was a good partner. I had a hard time communicating and really valuing my needs but I attribute that to growing up in an abusive home and going to school in a predominantly white area where I was punished for acting out due to trauma loll.

And I’ve been in therapy most of this year and I know I have the tools to fix those things. It was my partner who refused to go to therapy or work on any of their issues or be honest with me. And I left as soon as I realized this wasn’t what I wanted you know? I’m proud of myself but also still so sad that they treated me that way.

[kitten4sannie]

Omg you reblogged your fic doubled stuffed and ughhh (congrats on 3k on that one too omg that's amazing!! 💖💖) the way I shiver everytime I see it on my dash vbdifbkffjjfdkd

I just can't get enough 🫠 you know in the past I used to feel guilty for liking stuff like that more on the rougher side but I love how you write it so freely 💞 I told this once to my bff and she said 'you know what you like, be a proud whore' 😂😂😂😂😂

Hope you're doing well bby 💖🥰🥰🥰🥰 here's Sannie

thank you my love ;;;;; i honestly still don’t believe the numbers when i see them like damn…. it just makes me feel proud of myself like ik it’s shameless smut but still :’) that’s what i like to hearrr <333 awwh ;; tumblr is def my escape for the things i’m into but believe me when i say that i’m pretty vanilla irl lol i only get a little freaky if i have a partner but alas it’s been very dryyyy these days rip. anyways lol i’ve felt the same way about the things i’m into as well but yk as long as you’re not harming yourself you should like what you like 💖 amennn to that !!! life is def life-ing rn loll but your encouragement gives me strength so thank you my lovely nyan :’) 💞 i hope you’re doing well too~~ eeeeeeee bf sannie ><

here’s a cowboy minkiiii yeehaww

[thefandomcassandra]

Hollow Knight Resurrected (1/?): Discovering Myself

A small amnesiac bug finds themselves in the fallen kingdom of Hallownest, following a calling he doesn’t understand.

(A novelization of the YouTube Series Hollow Knight Resurrected by GraveyardMedia)

He was actually really surprised the fall didn't kill him. Really, though, what had possessed him to jump off a cliff like that? He couldn't even see the bottom from where he had been standing, the dark ground swallowed by the void below. It was a miracle he hadn't eaten complete shit and shattered his mask into little pale shards, snapping his legs like brittle twigs.

He was alive though, knees and mask intact. That was something to be proud of...maybe.

"Finally," he said to himself, as though narrating for an audience, "after a long journey and a lot of time, I've ended...up...here. And now that I'm here I can—"

The shrieking winds above him drew his attention, reminding him that he didn't actually know why he had jumped. Or what he was looking for. Or—

"Actually, before I answer those questions: who is me? What does they do, usually?" What a weird question. Didn't people usually know who they were? What a weird fucking thing, for him to not know who he was. He knew he was a he, for starters. He knew he had a pale white mask and a soft cloak and a black carapace. He knew he had a nail on his back that was so much older than he was.

He knew he had to do...something?

"Maybe two birds with one stone." He decided. "Maybe the reason I'm here is because I need to find out who I am and I'll figure it out as I go." Yeah, that seemed right. Just keep moving, follow that feeling. That will lead to answers. He just knew it.

The area he was in was achingly lovely, in a lonely and haunted way. The resounding silence, only broken by the howling wind above, only heightened the effect. The cool blue ore-shell aggregate that made the floor and walls of this place were cold beneath his claws. His steps echoed loudly in empty halls as he tried to walk down the hall, only to be met with a door of some kind.

Whatever, he didn't have time for this. He drew his nail and used the blunted weapon to shatter the door into fragments, revealing more of the same hallway.

Man, breaking things was fun as hell.

Swinging his nail wildly as he walked, cutting grass and breaking decorative fixtures, he shattered another door. Behind this one was more hallway, but also—

"An animal!" The small insect—a small skittering thing with a grey carapace and small mandibles—crawled along the floor towards him, seemingly unafraid. The sight of the small thing so unafraid of its surroundings tugged at something within him. Perhaps this was self-actualization? A hint to his person? "Maybe I'm friend to animals?! Hello there you little—" The insect collided with him and bit his leg, its small mandibles dealing almost no damage to anything but his pride. "—bastard motherfuck!"

Mid-snarl, reactionary, he swatted the insect with his nail. The blade, though unkempt, tore through a hinge in the plating and drew a spurt of orange ichor. The little bug rolled over with the force and did not get back up.

It took him a moment to slow his breathing. Longer still to gather his wits and realize what he had done. His nail lolled, slack in his grip, the tip dripping orange into the dirt.

"I just killed that. And I feel no remorse?" It's not as if he was being irrational here. In spite of killing a bug—one that was doing almost nothing wrong—he felt nothing. Maybe the movement in his abdomen was hunger? Was he hungry? He was pretty sure he didn't have any kind of mouth.

That was besides the point. Self-actualization. He had discovered something about himself. "Murderer! I must be a murderer!" Having recovered from the momentary shock, he continued on down the long hallway in front of him, shattering doors and slaughtering more of those little grey bugs as they got in his way.

Really, he wasn't sure why he was so worried about being its friend in the first place. It was a beast, a mindless little animal. Probably something at the bottom of the food chain, considering how it didn't seem to notice or care about him until he was in its way. Some scavenger or something would pick up the corpse and eat well.

Plus, killing things was thrilling. Being a murderer was an easy title to attach to his blank sense of self. Especially considering how effortlessly and precisely he swung his nail. That was not the attack of a panicked bug. That was the swing of someone who knew what they were doing.

The hallway emptied into a tall room with a few platforms poking out of the wall. One of those small crawling bugs wandered away from him—safe from his nail today—but he wasn't looking at it. He was looking up, at the curving path that looked like it was going somewhere. He hopped up on one of the platforms and tried to plan his next move.

Anyway, where was he? Oh, right. He had just realized he was a murderer.

Read the Rest on AO3

[metaphorical-goblin]

Ask game! (For AA bc I’m not familiar with DnDads):

🎁💕✨📚

Ahh hi! First off thank you so much for asking! Hopefully we'll get some good stuff ehehe

🎁Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

I feel like I'm nothing but WIPs lately so let's see what we've got! This is from a little snippet of Miles traveling to Germany and getting himself a little companion.

Then, he stumbled his way to an animal shelter.

This was stupid. Utterly stupid.

The volunteer showed him around the facility–surprisingly clean, considering the nature of the business–and pointed out their residents while he fought the urge to cover his ears. Loud, yapping things and big, drooly mixes and old, trembling beasts that were standing on shaking legs. His heart twisted at the sight of those; he wasn’t sure that he could handle something like that at the moment.

Then, her. A collie mixed with something else (they weren’t quite sure), tapping back and forth on her feet, great pink tongue lolling out of her mouth as she kept jumping down into a bow in front of him. Her card said that she was about two years old (they weren’t quite sure) and that she was brought in because her previous owners could not handle her high energy. 

This was a horrible, terrible idea.

“I think… I think I’m interested in this one.”

💕What is your favorite fic that you've written?

I hate to repeat myself about this one all the time, but I just adore The Essential Guide to Avian Development. Seeing all of my research and work and everything just come together in such a beautiful and cohesive way is something I'm really proud of! Plus, seeing how others interpreted Avian characteristics and the characters' development was just so euphoric to see! It was such a blast to plan and write, and I really want to write another long fic soon!

If I had to pick another, it would probably be The Things We Agree to Believe Are True, which is kind of my self-indulgent sappy marriage fic, or Change of Heart (which, honestly, I wish I could go back and make longer lol).

✨Out of the comments you've received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

I'm going to be honest, I love ALL the comments I get! It makes me feel so nice when someone takes the time to write something out and share it with me; it's sort of like reading the story with someone!

Having said that... there have been a few that have made me feel extra-special, ehehe. One of the more recent ones was from Living_Death on "Double Date:"

I have come to the point at which I have noted your username at the top of really great reading experiences enough to where when I see it attached to a new fic, I get to feel excitement, and I am relieved to know that it's a fic from an author I trust. And that's honestly such a gift. I love your work, this included.

There are a few more that are a bit too long to post, but seeing ArthurtheGatekeeper basically live-react to reading "And I Will Stay With You Through Spring" was such a boost of confidence, and bat15's consistent and kind comments on every chapter of Avian Dev. when I was first posting was such a sweet feeling! It really helped me to continue writing.

📚Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

Ohhhh boy. That's a long answer. I won't rec any mature/NSFW fics at the moment since I'm not sure if you're comfortable with that, but I do have a few favorites I'd love to share (though, to be honest, you've probably heard of them already).

As far as authors go, you are in good hands with anything by Ophelia_Writes, kbots, whackamacka, JustNerdyThings, ArthurtheGatekeeper... I could go on, but we'd be here all day lol.

For fics, I'll try to keep it brief (and maybe not exclusively the authors I recommended).

I do have to point out "A Brief for the Defense" by Ophelia_Writes, specifically, though, because it is just such a beautiful illustration of grief and loss, character depth and development, flaws (Ophelia is incredible with character flaws that are realistic and functional). This is honestly one of the best overviews of Ace Attorney and I kind of consider it canon lol. The representation of Maya and spirit channeling, specifically, alongside the VK sibs complicated feelings about Manfred, are what really drew me in.

Another great read (particularly if you're interested in some fun Mia & Bratworth bonding) would be "No Winners" by MostWeakHamlets. It's still ongoing, but so far it has been really intriguing, especially regarding how Miles reacts to his losses and how Mia almost "coaches" him, in this parallel of treating him like a little brother, that is really beautiful.

A great fantasy fic would be "Phoenix Wright and the Myth of the Amethyst Prince" by EdwirdoNomen and prince_pqul. (Yes, I KNOW it says "Major Character Death," but just ignore it, I promise everything is happy in the end.) It's honestly this really whimsical, mythical quest to rescue the "captured prince," so to speak, with the whole cast of characters well-suited for the fantasy environment. The lore of the dragons is incredibly well-thought-out, and the world itself just oozes whimsy. It's a fantastic story, and it's complete!

Aaaaand, just so I'm not here all evening, my last recommendation is "The Wedding Planner" by famousinthatanonymousway. It's long, fluffy, and complete, so it's really the perfect little read to curl up with. I'm a sucker for AUs, and a WEDDING PLANNER AU?? WITH A BAKER??? oh that really takes the cake (pun so graciously intended). Plus, Pess is there! And who wouldn't want more Pess?

Wooo, sorry for the long-winded answer! I've never done an ask before so I think I just got excited. I hope you enjoy the recommendations, and thanks for reaching out!

[hellofritzzy]

Okay still cramping loll 😋😋🤞🏼. But did take medicine but I just finished going through over 6,000 pics and I’ve deleted all the ones I don’t want, ugly photos unnecessarily ones etc. I’m going to do that with my videos too I just focused more on pics 😭😭 but so proud of myself for doing that. After reposting all of my reposts from tik tok to instantly I had basically 9,000 something photos/ videos and now I have 6,018 butttt once I delete some videos I’ll for sureeee be in the 5,000 area soo I’m so proud of myself. Bc it’s soo tedious like no ma’am but it neeeeeeded to be done

[sproutedpotato]

As u might be able to tell, I’m taking an art class right now which is why you’ve been seeing 10x more detail than you usually would lol. I’m actually really glad I decided to take art again because it really really challenges me and forces me to work with mediums I’ve been either too lazy or scared to try. This week was a lot of hard work, but I managed to make 6 art pieces and I’m really proud of myself because I done something I’ve never done for each of them and they ended up looking pretty good (minus one loll). Anyway, I’m just really happy right now because it feels so good to be challenged and to be growing! I just know I’m right where I need to be! Everything feels so great! Yay!!