#it’s so political now :( not my doctor!!!:( man what
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alldni · 6 months ago
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looking at shit like the rotten tomatoes audience reviews for new doctor who just makes me so sad. “stop using doctor who as a political statement” the show is no more “political” than it was in 2005. one or two lines about abortion is not out of the ordinary in fucking DOCTOR WHO of all shows. y’all just see a black gay man or a trans girl and assume their existence is inherently political, it’s fucking ridiculous.
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mieczyhale · 3 months ago
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my sister changed her profile pic from some pro-cop bs to trump 2024
she's got FAS and is very much a parrot (she copies what she hears around her. i.e being shit to my mom bc my dad is. he's been the biggest influence the last year as they were kinda stuck in the same room together) unintentionally so i know it's most likely that spending time around my dad when he watches the news is the culprit-
but that doesn't make me feel less angry and lowkey betrayed by it
and i can't say anything about it
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teruthecreator · 1 year ago
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trying so hard to be normal but i really don’t think i could survive going to the psych ward and i’m rlly like. bothered my siblings are pushing it so hard
#in neg city#they were rlly like ‘we can’t force you’ but then just kept fucking talking about it#even as i’m crying and saying no no i don’t want to go i’m not going i really don’t want to#and like. idk. when ur sister gets sent to the psych ward at a pivotal point in ur childhood#and that subsequent action adds onto the trauma u were already experiencing at that point like idk man! maybe going to the psych ward would#in fact be very very bad!!!#like any time i think abt the psych ward i think abt my sister one day just disappearing from the house. i think about when the doctors#withheld my letters and i thought my sister either hated me or was fucking dead. i think about having to hide all this agony behind polite#smiles while i was also being bullied mercilessly at school and my CHOIR TEACHER WAS DYING OF CANCER#i think abt the car ride when my aunt told me and my brother that she had to go back in#i think of empty houses and missing places at the dinner table and arguments and so many fucking arguments#i cant go into the psych ward i won’t. and it just felt like that’s all they wanted me to do#and then it became well michelle how do u want us to help u? LEAVE ME ALONE#THATS HOW U HELP. YOU LEAVE ME ALONE AND LET ME FIGURE IT OUT#i get rlly overwhelmed and stressed when too many people are trying to butt their heads in#and i know they mean well but it just feels like they’re both gonna become mom and i’m not talking to mom for THIS EXACT REASON#idk i just don’t think they can help. i get that they’re rlly worried but i can’t let them help i don’t know what they could do#and they wanna talk about this again tomorrow so now i don’t wanna sleep bc i don’t want tomorrow to happen#but i don’t have anything to do bc i’m in such a terrible mood#i rlly wish i wasn’t alive sometimes#clearly i’m putting too much stress on my siblings and mom is probably worried sick but i’ll never kno bc we aren’t talking#i’m just ruining everyone’s life i rlly shouldn’t be on this planet anymore
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thecoochiefairy · 10 days ago
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━━ 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑠 .ᐟ toji.
warnings 𑄽𑄺 21.5K pregnancy kink, a LOT of dialogue ngl, third person pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, daddy kink, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, dad! toji, sweet! toji, talks of self-image, aggressive toji, daddy toji, baby megumi, minors aren’t welcome!
song to play while listening; 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑜𝑧𝑒 ; 𝑆𝑍𝐴
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ i don’t wanna get all self deprecating, this didn’t feel like my best work, but this is the second part to the first fic ever wrote, and i missed my seioni, toji + megumi pairing. it’s kinda long. sorry. i had to. enjoy, love you. 🫶🏽
AN INTERNAL THUMPING DRONES ALONG HER EARS AS HER SLENDER EYES GLANCE UP AT THE SCREEN. The gel along her stretched belly is cold against her skin, the hand of the doctor continuing to rub gently as she stared at the life growing inside of her. 
Her mind had been everywhere to say the least. This was the first time she’d been to an appointment by herself, having her friends hold a trembling hand as she got news about the journey of her pregnancy. She was trying to keep her attention along the doctor's voice as her anxieties whipped around her body like a tornado. But as the nurse walked in with a forced smile, purposely flipping the paper over into the doctor's hand, her attentiveness peaked. 
Her heart could’ve dropped as the same nurse gave her a rub to the shoulder, thoughts immediately going to the worst. Those worries pulled all together in preparation for an anxiety attack as the doctor placed his glasses down to look along the words, giving a hum at the results. 
Although she wanted to scream, she pulled it together and filled the silence within the room as she politely asked, “Uh…is something wrong, Doctor?”
The doctor glances up at her, giving a small smile to reassure her with a shake to his head, “No, nothing’s wrong, Seioni. The baby is fine as well,” he pats her thigh, seeing as that causes her to release the breath she’d been holding before he continues, “The only… hiccup would be that your blood pressure seems to be higher than normal.”
“Oh,” she says softly, “I didn’t realize.”
What was she supposed to say? She felt like she was in trouble, unsure of how to process that information. She hadn’t been feeling too bad—a couple of headaches here and there—she figured it was just her lack of eating. 
The doctor hums as he glances back at the paper, “How have you been feeling lately? How has the pregnancy been on you so far?” He asks, looking back at her.
“Good! I mean—as good as I can be,” she watches as the nurse comes to wipe her stomach, softly thanking her as she sits up. She knew that she might not have been telling the entire truth, but this also wasn’t a therapy session. Rubbing her belly had become a nail-biting replacement, seeing as the doctor then asks, “Do you still own your tattoo shop?” 
“Yeah, but I don’t work anymore. My fiancè takes care of everything, but for the most part the shop runs itself,” she briefly explains. 
The doctor nods understandingly. This still wasn’t a therapy session, but being her primary doctor and having that relationship with her, he couldn’t help but pry just a bit. 
 He hums, “That’s good to hear…” glancing at the ultrasound before looking back at her, “How has your home life been? How is your fiancé?”
That was the burning question. Officially being in a relationship with Toji taught her what it was like to be with a man, it scared her to open herself up to someone in a way she hadn’t in years. Not only did she never expect herself to actually end up with him, she damn sure didn’t expect to become a maternal figure to his son—Megumi—who was now freshly two-years old, hopping along for the ride of the relationship between his father and ‘Oni’’ as he’d call her. They all experienced a love between one another that blossomed as months passed—but that didn’t mean it didn’t have its…faults. 
Seioni sighed, tracing her fingers lightly against her belly before she replied, “My fiancé has a son, he just turned two. We’ve been potty training him and it’s been…a mess, no pun intended,” she lightly giggles, “He fusses a lot now since we’re trying to get him off of his pacifier, and he has trouble sleeping. I’ve also been trying to plan a wedding and baby shower by myself because my fiancè wants to make sure I have everything my way. On top of that I feel like a beluga whale, I can’t keep food down because I vomit at certain smells since my nostrils are similar to a dog now—do you know what dirt smells like? Seriously, I mean, have you smelled it? It's awful—but uh—As far as me and my fiancè, he’s been working a lot so…I don’t see much of him at times,” she realizes as everything sounds overwhelming, muttering a soft, “Sorry.”
The doctor gave a sympathetic look, understanding her situation. He sighs before he speaks again, giving a gentle smile to her, “You have a lot on your plate. You know what you’re experiencing are symptoms of stress, correct? That’s what’s causing your high blood pressure.”
Seioni knew that she could be a bit neurotic, but she didn’t realize that these things were genuinely putting her in a state of distress. Megumi’s growing pains, Toji’s lack of interest within the wedding and baby shower, and their lack of intimacy whether it was in the bedroom or out of it. Maybe she just needed some dick—or a box of tissues. 
“What does your husband do for work?” 
She blinks, not ever having an answer for that question. She then convinced herself, “Uh—contractor. Yup, contractor.” 
“Maybe you should suggest for him to take some time off of work then. But regardless, this is a beautiful situation. You have a baby girl coming, you're planning a baby shower, and your wedding will be soon, correct?” 
“Yes, I’m thinking Italy,” she nods, seeing as that makes the doctor warmly smile. 
She thinks to herself, this is a happy time. So why the hell did she feel so…mundane? 
She blinks, raising her eyes up to him as she nods, “I guess I didn’t realize I was stressing myself out that badly. Am I…harming my baby?” She worries, eyebrows furrowing as she lets out a deep breath.
“No, no. You’re not harming your baby in any way. I’m just worried for you. Both mentally and physically.” He reassured her, “It seems your blood pressure is fine now and everything else is normal. You just need to make sure you don’t stress yourself out anymore as your pregnancy progresses. Let me ask, are you and your fiancè intimate?”
She raises her eyes, feeling her face go lightly warm as she repeats, “Intimate as in…sex? Is that really okay during pregnancy?”
He gave a small laugh, a little flustered that it was even a question as he soothes, “Yes, dear. It’s perfectly fine, healthy for you and the baby. It also increases the production of oxytocin—“ he pauses as he sees her face fill with confusion before he explains, “The ‘love’ hormone, essentially. It reduces pregnant stress, improves sleep, and temporarily masks aches and pains. Sex, bonding, and an increase in endorphins help a pregnant woman sleep better to combat exhaustion and other griping pregnancy symptoms.” 
When he sees that she still has a hesitation along her face, he gives her a gentle touch along her shoulder as he says, “No stressing, okay? How about I prescribe you some Lexapro? You can take them as needed, not anything you have to worry about fitting into your schedule.”
Seioni immediately knew that if Toji wasn’t such a damn workaholic, he’d be under her like a baby attached to a nipple—already having a small disagreement about her taking anything that wasn’t her prenatals. He’d dealt with a pregnant woman before, wanting to make sure she was as healthy as possible. But shit, he didn’t know everything, did he?
“…I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have. I’d just be worried if taking anything other than my prenatal might be harmful,” she tells him honestly.
He nods, understanding her concern. He sits down on a stool after he pulls it near her before breaking down, “That’s normal. Let me reassure you that Lexapro— a SSRI—Selective-serotonin-reuptake inhibitor— is safe for both pregnant women as well as their babies. It’s been shown that only 1% of the medication is passed on to the fetus during delivery, and that is an extremely small percentage. It’s deemed completely safe.”
She lets out a deep breath, realizing that she’s once again stressing herself out about things that don’t have to be overwhelming to her. This should’ve been the time where she rested, being seven months pregnant made her feel like she was going to explode. 
She then nods her head as she exhales, “Thank you so much, doctor. Me and my little boo boo feel so blessed to have you,” she gives him a soft smile, rubbing her belly happily.
 “It’s my pleasure. You’ be sure to take care of yourself, okay?” He teased her a little, standing back up on his feet, “I’ll call that prescription in and the pharmacy should have it ready for you by the time you get there,” As he goes to help her off the table, he adds on, “Oh, and your fiancé should be expecting a call from me as well.”
“Uh, why? If you don’t mind me asking?” She places her hand along the bottom of her stomach, letting out a tired breath as she pulls herself up to stand.
The doctor chuckled lightly as he saw the small struggle and helped her stand, saying, “It’s nothing worrisome. Just gonna let him know about your prescription,” He tells her, “He’ll need to know about your blood pressure as well.”
Shit. She was hoping that she could at least talk to him about the prescription first, knowing that when he meant something, he meant it. She pulls her smile lines up to hold a happy expression on her face, nodding as she repeats, “Yeah, of course. Thank you again.” 
The moment she leaves the doctors office, she soaks in his words, taking them into consideration. This should’ve been the happiest time for her. The only stress should have been picking out names, choosing colors for her bridesmaids dresses, and creating a registry for the perfect gifts. Another issue she’d been facing was the insecurities she felt within her own body changing. Her nose was wider than usual, her hips were now actually child bearing, and her belly walked in the room before she did. What if she wasn’t attractive anymore? 
On the opposite end, Toji drowned in her scent, wanting to eat her alive each time he saw her—if only she knew that. She wasn’t sure why her face was warm as she clutched the olive green baby doll dress, standing within Victoria Secret as the cashier rudely eyed her belly more than she needed to. 
“‘Fuck are you looking at?” She said before she thought about it, the cashier quickly dropped her eyes back to the lingerie as she shoved it into the bag. 
Finally making her way back home, she thanks the babysitter as she sends her off for the rest of the day. She thinks to herself as she’s within the kitchen taking out the steak that she plans to cook, realizing these issues wouldn’t feel as big if she had Toji’s full support. 
It's not that he wasn’t trying to help. He just wanted everything her way, she was his princess. He assumed that letting her handle these tasks would keep her busy since she complained about not working. She hoped that once Megumi went to bed, she could have some…alone time with Toji. But as she was now sat across from Megumi who refused to pee in the toilet, her track of time was off, and she wasn’t sure if her mission would be a success. She sat on the phone with her mom, listening to her complain about her older brother’s constant circle of women he presented to their father and aunt.  Even through her amusement, she couldn’t help that she deeply missed them all, although they could sometimes be…something. 
“Your stupid-ass-big-headed ass brother has brought the second girl over here this week, talking about ‘This the one for real Ma’,’ boy, please. And the girls be’ cute, too! If only they had a brain. I tell them to run! Shoes off! Barefoot! Why didn’t you just let me ship him off to your place and move into your old condo?”
“Because he would have to pay rent, which would require him to have a job,” she emphasizes, “You let Nova eat, sleep and shit in your house for free. If you gave his’ ass responsibility he’d explode.”
“What you’ tryna say, lil’ girl? Don’t make me smack you through this phone.”
“Hitting a pregnant woman? Have some decorum,” she chuckles, “But you know exactly what I’m saying, momma. That’s your pride and joy, you need to take him off the nipple and kick him out, have him shack up with his thousands of bitches. I love my brother to death, but he can’t be living under you his whole life.”
“How about you worry about the baby in your belly and the one in front of you who refuses to pee?”
Her eyes immediately met with the familiar gray ones she saw within her fiancé’s. His fat olive cheeks are currently a tint of red as his arms cross below him, dark hair spruced all around his head as he frowned across from her, sitting on his teddy bear decorated makeshift toilet. 
“Have you been taking the fish oil pills I sent?”  her mother asks.
Seioni frowns, “Yuck. Everything except those. I can barely keep food down, do you want me to vomit?” 
She then turns her head back towards Megumi as she sighs, “C’mon, Sweetface. You said ‘Oni, pee!’ earlier.”
Another issue that they faced, with Megumi being two, in comparison to other children there was a…slowness to his ability to speak. They thought he’d be farther in his journey, understanding more than he could reply. But it wasn’t an end of the world issue. It was something that was brought up in conversation when it came to Toji’s ability to teach him, but that conversation quickly ended. One thing everyone knew—Toji didn’t play about his child. 
Megumi shakes his, saying, “No, no, no!” as he wiggles his way from the toilet. 
Her mother hears their little argument as she asks, “Meg’ giving you a hard time with potty training again?” 
“As always,” Seioni sighs. 
“How about you give him treats for it?” 
Seioni frowns, “Jesus, he’s not a dog, momma. And I don’t want him thinking that the only way you accomplish things is immediately receiving an award for them.” 
She sighs as she looks at Megumi, “I wish you were here, mommy. You had me and Nova potty trained before we were even counting. How’s Dad? And Aunt Celeste?”
Her mother heard the longing tone of her daughter’s words and immediately sympathized. Her daughter always had a close relationship with her family, so it was expected for her to miss them. 
“Your father’s fine. He’s in the backyard tending to the garden like he says he’s going to do every summer,” she replied, slightly amused by her over-the-top husband, “And Celeste is somewhere in her room caked-up on the phone with her many boyfriends. Probably where Nova’s slutty ass gets it from.” 
Seioni laughs lightly as she smiles, just envisioning her father out in the garden every summer with a ridiculous sunhat and shorts, a gardening shovel in his hand as the sweat glistens on his body. She also envisioned her aunt, boisterous laugh as she twirled her hair to any man’s attention. This conversation was only aiding her home-sickness, she felt her stomach beginning to ache.
She brings her eyes back to Megumi, staring over him as he sits silently along the toilet. She then says to him, “Megumi, pee?” 
Megumi gives a pout, his chin quivering as he mutters out, “No-potty!” his little hands curling up into fists. He refused to use the toilet, and only wanted to use his pull-ups. 
Seioni huffs, running her hand through her hair, “Oh my hell, just pee, Megumi,” she told him as her mother laughed through the call.
“Eat-eat!” He then soundlessly calls out. 
Seioni raises an eyebrow as she crosses her arms, “No eat-eat, Megumi doesn’t want to pee!”
“He sounds just like his father. Stubborn as hell,” her mother laughs as she hears her daughter and grandchild from the phone. 
Seioni sighs as she rolls her eyes, but with a slight laugh as she agrees, “Yeah, exactly like his father…” She sighs once again before saying, “Megumi, you get no food until you pee!” She told him.
“Does he do this all the time?”
“Girl, yes. He only listens to Toji. Probably cause’ he’s scary. But he wanna take advantage of his ‘Oni’,” Seioni rolls her eyes. 
Megumi’s eyes were wide as a look of horror came across his face. He refused to pee, but he also wanted to eat. He’d only just recently gotten rid of his bottles and had been eating actual, solid food now. 
He began to pout heavily, tears slowly gathering in his eyes before he replied with a quiet, “Oni’, Hungry.” as he held his belly, as if to further his point.
Although she tried to get better with not allowing his cries to defeat her, she couldn’t help but soften at that olive toned face going red in the cheeks, swelling as his doe eyes dropped tears. 
She then muttered into the phone, “Fuckin’ hell, Momma, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
Seioni’s mother chuckles over the line, hearing the annoyance in her daughter’s voice. “Okay,” she replies, “You better make sure Toji’s big headed ass is sitting with Megumi by the toilet the minute he gets home, you shouldn’t be the only one doing this. You acting like more of a parent then he is!”
“Mom, please don’t start,” Seioni sighs, rolling her eyes as that was probably the twentieth time her mother told her that, “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” her mother replies as if she didn’t just throw shade at her fiancè, “Talk to you later. Bye, Megumi.”
The sound of her mom’s soft voice nearly makes her want to begin crying like Megumi, missing the warmth that she brings around her. She could be a pain in the ass at times—especially when it came to her feelings about Toji’s constant absence as of recently—but that was her mom regardless. 
Megumi’s attention is pulled away from his tears as he hears her voice through the phone, calling out a small, “Bye, Bye” before Seioni hangs up the call.
Seoni places the phone down, raising her arms as she sighs, “C’mon. Oni’ is sorry, okay? Just need you to pee without your diaper one of these days.”
Megumi slowly lifted himself up from the toilet and pouted more as he muttered, “No potty,” he wasn’t going to give in to her just yet.
She had her own transgressions with the fact that Megumi had a hard time listening to her when it came to potty-training, and it was even more frustrating that the only person he listened to at times was his father. She loved Megumi like he was her own, but she knew that her not actually being his mother might’ve clued into their issues. 
“Eat-eat?” She raises an eyebrow, pulling his pamper up along his hips as she kisses him against his tear filled cheek, standing with a groan as she places him along the side of her hip.
“Eat-eat,” Megumi nodded heavily. 
His little hands clutched along her shirt as he began to sob softly, his pouts becoming more intense. His face began to become more red as tears fell more down his cheeks, staining a part of her shirt.
Seoni let out a sigh—this was gonna be a long night. 
She was halfway successful with her mission of cooking for Toji before he got home, making a wagyu steak with garlic buttered mash potatoes, only able to make a small salad for herself as she couldn’t handle anything too heavy on her stomach. Another thing she couldn’t stop crying about, nearly vomiting anything heavier than salads, sandwiches or liquids. She wasn’t sure what time he was coming home tonight, knowing that his job delved within ‘mafia/criminal’ activity, but never asking what he exactly did, just hoping he got home safely in the process. 
Once she fed Megumi and got him to finally go to sleep, she took the final step in her plans. She took a long shower, shaved her entire body, and lathered herself with baby oil and vanilla scented perfume. 
But as she stood in the baby doll dress, her breast spilled out the sides of the lace fabric, her round belly large  under the sheer gown—all of her insecurities came flooding in the warmth of her cheeks. She felt…unattractive.  
Once she changed into one of Toji’s oversized jerseys, she spent the next hour crying her eyes out, seated on the sofa as she bored into old pictures of herself. She cried so hard that she ended up knocking out, dozing off along the pillows unknowingly that she never took into account how late Toji finally came home. 
He was always terrible at entering the house. Heavy boots thumped along the floor, a low curse echoing along the walls as he stepped on one of Megumi’s toys trying to come inside. Due to her being a light sleeper, Seioni’s eyes slowly blank open, reflexively holding her belly as she looks at her fiancè. Toned arms, muscles bulging through his shirt as that dragon tattoo trailed around his left hand, now crawling under his shoulder and down his back. Dark hair and matching furrowed eyebrows frowned as he appeared behind the door, scarred lip twitching as his eyes fell over her figure. 
Seeing this man was like seeing him for the first time. Its like he’d almost gotten bigger in height and broadness, almost having to slouch for her consideration. Steel gray eyes were deadly, glares and stoic appearance making her want to melt within a constant.  A small scowl plays along his mouth—per usual—eyes flickering from the toy he just stepped on to the woman sleeping on the couch, journal nearly falling from her grasp as she begins to wake up. 
As soon as his eyes met hers though, his heart warmed a bit, relaxing slightly as his deep voice gruffly called, “Baby... What are you doing sleeping on the couch? You’re supposed to be in bed.” 
He takes his leather jacket off and slings it over the table, pausing as he picks it back up to hang along the coat rack by the door before Seioni can choke him out about it. He's already making his way over to her flawlessly beautiful figure, dark hair sticking along her toffee face as she adjusted to reawakening, feeling as her legs are being gently pulled over his lap. 
Her voice is soft and immensely quiet, “I…dozed off, uh…writing baby names. Remembering what the doctor told me,” she runs her fingers through her dark hair as she sighs, “Hi, Daddy.”
He gives a rumbling chuckle as he glances down at the journal, looking at her words before he glances back up to her, pulling her more onto his lap instead, “Hey, Mama,” he muttered back, his large hand lightly resting against her belly. 
“You’re pushing yourself too hard, aren’t you?” 
“Today was by default. Megumi gave me the blues trying to potty train him again, but I did end up making dinner for you,” she wraps her arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his palms on her hips.
Toji lets out a small huff, “‘Boy is just as hard headed as I am, you know that. You’ll tire yourself out more trying to get him to do something he doesn’t want to do.” He gently pulled her closer, her legs on either side of his lap, wrapping an arm around her hips. 
“What’d you make? I’m starving,” he grunted out, his hand rubbing her hip, massaging it lightly.
“Wagyu steak and garlic mash potatoes, how Muffin likes it,” she playfully rolls her eyes, giggling as she feels his palm lightly smack along her ass from the nickname.
In regular fashion, he quickly grumbles, “I keep telling your ass I’m not your damn Muffin.” 
He then chuckled, “Smartass, but you know me so goddamn well, beautiful,” he teased nonetheless, giving her a grin as his hand rested comfortably along her hips. 
“Just like I know that you like being my Muffin, hm?” 
“Stop talking to me. Anyways, you know if you’re going to go through the effort of cooking, I need to go through the effort to reward you afterwards,” he travels his hand upward as he digs his fingers into her hair to clutch her forward, lips sucking the skin of her neck into his mouth. 
It made her sigh breathlessly, her face warm as a small giggle pulled from her lips, “Don’t I get a reward for just being the love of your life?”
He chuckled as he pulled away from her neck, his lips just centimeters away from hers as he told her, “It never ends with you, does it, woman? Always needing more from me.”
The constant realization with their lack of intimacy hits her again, a chill coursing down Seioni’s spine at the thought. But another chill came as she remembered not feeling as attractive as she usually did. She can tell that Toji feels her body tense, hoping he doesn’t press her reaction—she really didn’t want to end the night off in an argument about her own self conflicts. 
She nearly sighs in appreciation as he slows his movements down, hearing as he asks, “How was the doctor?” 
She raises her eyes as she squints, “The doctor called you today, Fushiguro. I’m assuming you missed it due to work.”
Toji nearly groaned at the news of her saying that the doctor called. He’d meant to answer them, but as of recently work had been busier. 
“Damn it, I knew I forgot something.” He muttered out, lightly pinching his nose, “What did they call about?”
“He wanted to tell you about my high blood pressure,” she lightly trails her finger along his arm, the dragon along the veined skin shining under the living room light.
His head raised up, “What’s causing you to have high blood pressure?” 
“He said I could just be stressing myself out, which—I know I am. He prescribed me Lexapro, I think I might try it out for a couple of days, see how it makes me feel.” 
She can practically feel the frown on his face before she sees it, keeping her eyes away from him as she attempts to move herself off of his lap. Key word, attempted. 
“You’re not taking those.”
She raises her eyebrows, “The doctor told me they were safe, Toji. I don’t think he’d give me anything if he knew I couldn’t take it.”
“You think I give a fuck about what the doctor said?” 
She rolls her eyes, not ready to go back and forth with him as his arm tightens around her hips, his fingers digging a bit harder into her curves as he speaks, “If it’s not a damn prenatal, I don’t want you taking anything else. I’m not risking shit happening to you. There’s better ways to control your blood pressure.”
“Like what? Not stressing myself? That’s easier said than done. Who else wouldn’t be stressed if they had a baby in their terrible twos, a baby in their belly—then planning a wedding and baby shower all at once?” She raises an eyebrow.
“What the fuck does that have to do with you taking some dumbass shit like Lexapro? You can do all of that without medication, Seioni.” 
“Oh bite me,” she snarls, “Don’t go all government on me. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“These are issues that can be easily resolved. I’m waiting for your point.”
“Easily resolved?” Her hand quickly latches to pull his arm off of her, his hand becoming more firm as he holds onto her before his mouth fires off, “Seioni. Don’t fuckin’ play with me right now, move your hand.” 
“Boy, fuck off! Who the hell are you to tell me what I can’t take? My father?”
“Boy?” He raises his own eyebrow, full lips and scar twitching in her defiance. 
When she’s finally able to get him to loosen his grip,  she tries to hide her grunt as she has to hold her back and belly all at once to properly stand, struggling as she does so before successfully coming off of his lap. 
The minute she began getting up, his hands went immediately to her hips to hold her in his lap, a very deep frown on his face as he spoke in a dark tone, “Don’t give me that bullshit, woman. I’m your goddamn husband, that’s why I’m saying it—And you can’t even get up to stand by yourself, you can barely even move without grunting in pain, sit the hell down.”
“I can do stuff on my own!” She exclaims, crossing her arms, “Don’t act like I’m helpless, bastard. I’m just saying that maybe Lexapro wouldn’t make me so neurotic.”
“I’m not saying you’re helpless. I’m just saying that your body is not the same as it was before you were pregnant,” he grumbled back, the vein in his forehead throbbing as he spoke. He looked directly down at her arms, seeing how she crossed them across her chest as he continued, “We don’t need anymore side effects happening to you or the baby because you’re wanting some antidepressant. You don’t need those, you need to sit your ass down and take a damn break. This is why your blood pressure is high.”
“Well how about you make me less stressed by helping me out? You wanna be tied up in your stupid ass job all the time, how wouldn’t I be stressed?” She narrows her eyes.
There it is, the argument he’d been avoiding this entire time. He knew that she was upset about the time he’d been spending at work, but work was important to him. He wanted to be able to take care of her and Megumi in more ways than imagined. 
“Don’t act like I just work for shits and fuckin’ giggles.”
“Don’t make me feel like I’m supposed to be satisfied with that ! I’m asking you to at least seem interested when I talk to you about these things. Wedding, baby shower, baby names! Anytime I bring it up you blow me off about it—using the excuse that you just want to make sure I do everything I want for both events, but in reality you just don’t wanna do shit for them!” She clocks him, swatting his arms away in an attempt to touch her.
The vein in his forehead turned into a headache as she continued speaking, her words hitting at his pride. He was beginning to get incredibly pissed as she continued.
“I don’t want to do anything for it because those things aren’t about me, it’s about you and the baby. What kind of man do you think I would be if I didn’t allow you to plan your own gender reveal, your own baby shower, your own wedding, your own goddamn baby gifts? I don’t do anything to help but I’m giving you the reigns here.”
“Well maybe I’d like my fiancè to seem slightly excited about these events, to just give me some type of showing that you care!”
“You’re really doing this right now?” He blinks, “You know I care. If I didn’t I wouldn’t give a fuck about all this stupid-girly shit,” he blows a breath, sucking his teeth, “Shit. Maybe you do need the goddamn Lexapro.” 
Similar to Megumi, another newfound part of her pregnancy was the way that she could instantly cry on cue, almost like a baby. To hear his words instantly hurt her feelings. 
She didn’t mean to give the reaction she did, but everything began hitting her all at once. His words, the doctor's words, her own words. A pout came to her lips, her eyes welling with tears as she pressed her hands to her face, “I just feel so …overwhelmed.”
The minute she began to cry, Toji tensed immediately. He absolutely hated it when she cried, and her pregnancy definitely didn't help him on that end at all. He was about to respond but another sniffle came from her, and then followed by another, and another, he groaned.
"Oh jesus... Stop crying, please, you know I hate this shit..." he grumbled softly, his large hands lightly rubbing at her hips to try and soothe her.
That made her full on sob, her face red as her cheeks swelled, her hands over her face as she cried, “I c—can’t do this alone. I miss my family, I wish they were here to help me with these things. Megumi is giving me a hard time, I—I can’t keep any food down, I can’t fit any of my clothes, I feel like a fucking ugly fat whale.”
He could feel how his shirt got damp, tears staining it from her crying, but he couldn’t care less as he held her against him. Despite the pregnancy, she still felt so small in his grip, and it reassured him that although his words could be mean, he was always there to comfort her.
His head laid against the top of her head as he muttered softly, “You're not alone. You have me, okay? You have me—your…Muffin,” he almost vomited at his words, “ And Meggie, we’re here. You're not alone, babydoll.”
“But you’re always workinggg,” she sobs, hiding her face within his chest as she cries even harder, nearly unable to breath as tears drop heavily from her face.
“Baby, you gotta calm down.”
He tried soothing her as his hand began gently trying to brush away some of the tears falling down her face. Her sobbing was beginning to worry him, she was crying too damn hard. 
“I know you’re upset about the amount of time I’ve been working but—baby, I’m just tryna’ handle shit for us,” he was trying to rationalize with her, but it was very difficult to do so when she was crying.
“M—Maybe y—you just don’t want me or this baby,” she trembles.
Toji quickly grips her face, pulling her tear streaked cheeks to stare up at him as he pulls her forward, “Cut this shit out,” a firm, dark tone, “I want you more than anything with this baby. Quit saying bullshit like that. I think you’re the prettiest, Oni’. You’re lucky I can’t fuck the shit out of you right now.” 
She takes another deep breath, unable to stop herself from crying. The waterworks flowed, keeping her face in her hands as she quivered, “‘M sorry. I’m just so scared. I can’t even get Megumi to pee in the toilet. How am I gonna be a good mother? W—what if I can’t do this?” more tears appear along her face, nearly having to catch her breath from her tearful attack.
He could feel the way she was shaking and quivering from crying, and it only continued to make him feel guilty. Her words hurt, but it hurt even more when she began doubting herself.
“You’re going to be a great mom,” he muttered with an assurance, his hand lightly moving across her face, trying to brush away the tears. “Megumi’s just stubborn, baby. You’ll be able to get him eventually, it just takes time. 
You’re doing great. You’re doing just fine, okay?”
His words make her feel slightly better. She knew that she was doing better than most, and maybe being so critical was another cause of her stress. She knew she was going to be the best mother she could be, she just had to believe that. Especially with Toji’s support. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as she shoves her face within his neck, sniffling as she tries to control her breathing. 
She then muffled, “I—I love you.”
He placed his chin along the top of her head, his hand gently clutching at the back of her hair. “I love you too, beautiful. I love you so damn much.”
“Even when I’m a crying mess?” She mutters, feeling the grumble of his chuckle along her body.
“Even when you’re a complete mess, I still love you. You’re still my gorgeous, loveable mess, baby,” he reassured, placing a gentle kiss along the top of her head, “I meant what I said. You’ in my jersey is gonna get you fucked up,” he grunts, the arousement of this man never failing.
She rolls her eyes against his damp shirt, lightly swatting his arm as she utters, “Hush.”
The comfort and reassurance of this man was like no other— she couldn’t ask for a better upcoming husband. Through all of that, she feels her body becoming tired again after the waterworks, laying herself deeper into him as she lets a moment of silence go between them. Despite their disagreements, she loved him endlessly. 
“Baby?” She asks softly. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I have some of your steak?” 
“Is it gonna make you vomit and then cry after you vomit?”
“…Yes.” 
“Then no.” 
                     ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆
AS A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED, Seioni had  come to the revelation that the only thing she’d do from now on was enjoy this pregnancy. With that, she requested instead of taking Lexapro to receive something for her morning sickness. Toji’s stubbornness subsided at the thought of her being able to eat, to which he painfully agreed on the medication.
All this man wanted to do was make his woman happy. He wanted to withhold the surprise he had for her and Megumi, but knowing that not allowing his fiancè to do her ‘girly-shit’ in preparation for an upcoming vacation to Maui, Hawaii, she’d go into labor if she couldn’t buy a whole new wardrobe.  
She was like a child when it came to her excitement—if only her fiancè and his son were as equally elated in her process. She enjoyed every single swipe of his card, outfits, getting her hair done, pampering herself in preparation to be along the beach. She dragged Toji and Megumi all around the mall with her, finding outfits for them as well—ignoring the looks shared between the son and father, impatient and only wanting to be curled up next to her at home. But as he watched her stare within the mirror as she tried on two-piece bikinis, not giving a damn about her round belly, shopping wasn’t as bad as he made it to be—he was now excited. 
The day finally came as they were at the bustling airport. Seioni pulled her bohemian braids behind her ear, more human hair than anything flowing in between the individuals as her brown skin was lightly russet within the face, her freckle’s almost making her look sun kissed. She wore a ballerina pink baby tee, matching yoga pants and her hello kitty sandals, trying to carry her own personal bag on her shoulder as she gave a polite nod to the airport worker after showing her passport. Toji could’ve nearly snatched that bag off of her shoulder, almost glaring at her for attempting to carry something as heavy as her bag. 
“I had it,” she said softly, rolling her eyes.
He grumbled, raising an eyebrow at her eye-roll as he shifted the strap along his shoulder, allowing her to walk in front of him. He was like a guard dog, ready to pounce at any moment as she spun around in her dream land.
“And you say I’m stubborn,” Toji mutters. 
She raises an eyebrow, “You’ talkin’ shit over there?” Taking Megumi’s small hand within hers, pulling him as he waddled down the line towards TSA. 
“Do you want me to repeat myself in a louder tone?”
She shot daggers at him, eyebrows frowning down as she nearly flung Megumi to turn towards him, “You know what, as a matter of fact, I do!” 
“You better waddle your ass to TSA and stop talking to me.” 
“I don’t wanna have to smack your ass in this damn airport, Fushiguro,” she glares.
“That’s even if you could get to me in time!” 
“Oh! You’re tryna’ be funny! How about I roll over to you?! Bastard!—“ 
“You better stop talking to that man like that, Seioni!” 
She halts. Her attitude is on high alert as she thinks—who the hell is talking to her and why did they know her name?
 Her body fully turns as she searches for the voice that becomes familiar the more it echoes in her mind. Her heart nearly falls in her ass as she sees the familiar smile that she holds within her own face, her mother standing on the other side of the airport as well as her father, brother and aunt.
 Her eyes go wide as she shockingly calls, “Momma?!” 
Her eyes turn to Toji, seeing the smile that suppresses within his face. He knew that she was having a hard time with this pregnancy, so he thought surprising her with her family joining them on the trip would make her smile. He knew she hadn’t seen them in a while due to them living in a different city. 
She releases Megumi’s hand as she takes off for them, Toji calling, “Oni’!” scared she would fall, watching as she waddles quickly over to them, gripping her mother into the tightest hug she could’ve given her. 
“Oh my god,” she cried, tears immediately coming down her face, “What are you— when did you—how are you guys here?” She cried, looking between all of her family members, unable to stop herself from the waterworks.
The minute she began crying, her mother was shushing her gently with a light laugh, “Oh no, no, don’t cry, babygirl. We just wanted to surprise you, since we know you’ve been having a hard time lately.”
Her mother was lightly rubbing her back as her father spoke up next, “Your fiancé told us that you could use some moral support right now, we were more than happy to come see you. He paid for our flights here and to Maui.” 
“You didn’t tell us your fiancè had all this damn munyun, sis,” her brother calls from behind, a smirk along his face.
She scrunches her nose at her brother as she fires, “Don’t be ghetto, act like you’ve been around some money before.” 
“Yo’ daddy!” Nova rebuttals. 
“Aye! I’m nowhere near broke!” Her father, Noel protests. 
“Did you pay for this trip, broke-boy?” Her mother playfully insights to her husband, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow, “I recall you only buying a neck pillow for the flight.” 
“Saanaá, please. You bought a matching one!” 
“And did! Celeste bought a third!” She points out. 
“And did! In my business? Mind yours, anyways, he does seem to have heavy ass pockets. What he do’ for work?” The aunt playfully instigates, Toji and Seioni quickly replying in an exhale, “Contractor.” 
Toji’s instantly amused by her family dynamic. He was unable to do anything but chuckle as she turns towards him, “You really did this?” Sniffling as she smacks his arm, “You did. You bastard.” 
Toji now had Megumi along his hip, nearly stumbling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pecking his lips multiple times while still crying throughout her happiness.
“Is this the little Megumi?” Her aunt playfully gasps. 
 Megumi giggles as he raises his arms into hers, surprisingly going right into her embrace which makes her happily cheer. Toji almost had to blink twice. 
“Well come on people, our flight is gonna start boarding soon!” The mom calls, taking the hand of her husband as the aunt giggles excitedly with Megumi in her hands, Seioni’s brother helping with the bags as he follows behind.
 She turns to Toji as she wraps her arms around his neck, “You’re such a sweetie when you wanna be, y’know that? Always putting on this scary act and you’re just a little teddy bear. My muffin.” 
“You think I’m a teddy bear, huh?” He teased lightly, one of his hands lightly resting along the small of her back, holding her close to him. “Don’t be fuckin’ cute. I’m only soft for you.” 
“Looks like somebody's tryna’ get on my good side, hm?” 
She stood on her toes, dragging her tongue along his jaw before sucking his lips into her mouth, making him grunt lowly, “Don’t get me put on the no flight list, Seioni.” 
She giggles, “Bad boy. We’re with my family!” She teases, giggling as she tries to pull away, “The baby can hear you,” she places her hand along her belly.
“She’s gonna feel something if you don’t stop playing,” he threatens along her lips, hearing as she shockingly giggles, swatting his arm before she begins pulling him towards their gate, “Let’s go!” 
The flight had gone by quickly—at least for Seioni, she fell asleep before the plane even took off. Toji spent most of his time hovering the phone over to Megumi to keep him quiet, seeing as he became fussy from having to be stuck in one place for a long period of time. Her mom and aunt were also asleep, her brother and father engrossed in a movie they were both watching at the same time.
He couldn’t help but sigh as both Seioni and Megumi gripped along his body to comfortably sleep, Toji barely unable to move at this point. The tired laugh that fell from his lips was inevitable.
The minute that he felt like he’d dozed off, they arrived in Maui. His jet-lagged physique made him feel like his eyes were shutting by themselves, but to see the excitement of his fiancè as she pulled him through the airport, he figured he’d sleep another time. The sun was shining brighter than they’d ever experienced as they made it outside, the flowers were blooming and the trees were vibrantly green—it was almost overwhelming.
“We were only on the plane for an hour but yet my ass feels like it’s been sitting in a seat for hours,” he mutters, his voice tired. It felt like his chest had been filled with concrete; the only thing keeping him focused was the pure, raw excitement that his fiancè showed. 
“Awe, you need a massage?” Seioni questions, rubbing the side of his neck as he attempts to pick up her luggage, his and Megumi’s. 
“Don’t be tryna’ soften me up and shit” he points out, Seioni pouting as she says, “Moi? Softening you up? How dare you.” 
Toji huffs as she continues to rub at the side of his neck, the action making him want to just collapse into her body and fall asleep. 
“What do you want, woman?”
“Your love and affection?” She bats her eyelashes, “You've been working  so hard. Nova, come get these bags before I punch you! My man is doing all the damn work!” She calls for her brother, wrapping her arms around Toji as she pecks his jaw.
“Stop yelling at me, fucker.”
Both siblings raise their middle fingers to each other, Toji having to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at the sight. 
He feels her arms wrapping around his body, subconsciously holding her a bit tighter against him as he grumbles, “Yeah, okay.”
When they walked into what essentially seems to be a villa, the sight was beautiful. The inside walls were brown, minimalist beige furniture with a large kitchen. There were multiple rooms, an opening that led out to a personal pool, fruits, finger foods plastered around the kitchen island to welcome the family in the house.
“Dammnn, Toji. You’ did good!” Saanaà calls, the aunt agreeing, “This shit is bougie. You’ must really love Oni’!” 
“She’s aight!,” her brother Nova comments, the dad intervening, “Don’t be mad cause you don’t have a woman to do this for.”
“That’s if he had the money!” Aunt Celeste clowns on him, everyone laughing as Nova smacks his lips, carrying their bags upstairs.
“Let’s go to the beach! I need to see the sun set.”
“Ooh, and to see the fine men on the beach!” Her aunt agreed with her moms statement. 
“That too,” Saanaà nods her head, Noel then saying, “You’ tryna be funny, married woman?” With a raised eyebrow.
“Oh boy, don’t start. Y’know I love you…but I also love  looking at fine men!” 
Seioni rolls her eyes with a soft laugh, then saying, “As much as I’d love to watch you two act an ass on this beach, I’m feeling a little nauseated from the plane ride,” she places her hand over her belly, feeling her feet becoming heavier as she stands. Toji immediately wraps his arm around her, steadying as he knows her feet hurt at times.
“You alright, baby?” Toji is immediately concerned, having the urge to pick her up to keep her feet off of the ground.
“Do you need us to stay with you?” Her mom asks, now becoming equally worried. 
She shakes her head, “No—actually, take Megumi with you, if that’s okay. I’d love for him to see the water. Let him spend some time with y’all, Toji can stay here and make sure I don’t roll down the stairs,” she weakly jokes, pulling her hair behind her ear tiredly.
Her mom nods her head in agreement, looking over at Toji with a curious look, “You don’t mind?” 
Toji shrugs his shoulders, “Nah. I can stay here and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself,” he half-jokes, shifting so her body can lean more so on his own.
“Okay, we’ll be back soon. Let’s go, Meggie!” Her aunt picks up the small two-year old, watching as he giggled, wrapping his arms around her neck. 
All in her plan. Once the family exits out the house, Toji looks down as he notices the grin she tries to suppress. He raises an eyebrow, realizing she had been trying to find a reason to get her family out of the house without actually having to ask.
“You’re a terrible actor,” he hums, “You just wanted me all to yourself? Selfish ass.” 
“Mhmmm,” she hums back, happy as can be, tugging him towards the master bedroom. 
It was more beautiful than she imagined. A crisp white bed next to a walk in shower, green marble in the structure of the walls. As they look out to the balcony, there’s a clawfoot tub that looks out into the beauty of the green trees, a sight that she could look at forever. 
She felt a pang in her chest as she was now alone with him, as if this wasn’t her fiancée that’d she’d been with for the past two years. He knew every part of her body, so why was she afraid to show it? 
She faced the wall of the shower as she undressed. Toji instantly notices how she refuses to look at herself, but says nothing. He didn’t wanna cause an argument— at least for now. 
The tub is now filled, flower petals drenched beneath the warm water, multicolored and ethereal to their eyes. Seioni leans against the top of the tub as she stares out at the horizon, her long bohemian braids claw clipped out of her face, skin bare of makeup as her freckles tattoo against her cheeks and nose. The sunlight beamed against her brown skin, she couldn’t look away from it. Toji was the opposite—he couldn’t look away from her. 
She continued to ramble, “So, I was thinking about baby names again. I had been looking into some Japanese names for a girl, and I saw the name Nozomi—I thought it was so cute. It’ll fit into our little family, everyone ending in ‘I’s’. Megumi, Seioni, Toji, you get what I’m saying? And then I can give her a little nickname like ‘Omi’ cause it sounds like me! ‘Oni’! Yeah?” 
When she hears no response and realizes she might’ve been talking too much, she stops, noticing the way he leans his head slightly as he stares at her. 
She leans herself into the water as she gives a small 
smile, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
His gray eyes continued to stare at her, tracing every dip and curve of her body with his gaze as he spoke, “You’re so pretty, baby.”
She rolls her eyes, “Were you even listening?” coming closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she comes onto his lap. The warm water engulfs both of their skin.
Toji allows her to adjust herself onto his lap, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist once she is situated. He hums as he buries his face into the crook of her neck, his lips attaching to her warm throat.
“I was listening,” he murmurs, “Nozomi is a nice name, perfect for a pretty little girl. Just like her momma.”
He continues to press kisses against her skin, teeth gently nipping at the skin of her shoulder. She sighs, feeling that she wanted to have a conversation about what was going on in her head. But she knew that Toji wouldn’t be too happy to hear the unhappiness she felt, and she didn’t want to ruin the trip. 
“You’ve been all quiet on me since we got here,” she says quietly, “I miss you. Are you feeling…overwhelmed with my family?”
He chuckles, “Nah, I’m good, Mama. I’m just a little tired. We’ve been traveling for hours and your family is on ten at all times. It’s just different.” 
He presses a gentle kiss against her exposed collarbone, “Plus, I’ve been looking forward to being alone with you.”
Her mind wracks at that. She knows they need some time together, without Megumi’s constant whining and crying, without her family regardless of this trip. She thought back to the doctor's words of intimacy, the thought feeling almost virginal to her. She felt…not like herself. She wasn’t looking for a pep talk about confidence. But this belly and the changes in her body, she wasn’t used to it. 
She pulls him closer, letting the petals flow around them within the tub as she asks, “You’d tell me if they were getting on your nerves, right?”
Toji allows her to pull him closer, his arms fully wrapping around her back as he presses a kiss against her shoulder. He chuckled softly at her question, “Your family is cool as fuck. But this conversation isn’t gonna stop you from saying what’s actually wrong with you.” 
She feels the intensity in his stare. Blowing out a breath at the question, her eyes fall back down. This was the time to be vulnerable, but as said before, she didn’t want a scolding in response. 
She shakes her head as she lies somewhat, “Just nervous about the family thing. They can be kinda…controlling?”
His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t lie to me.” 
“I’m not,” she lies again, “So you aren’t worried about getting into it with them? You have a mouth on you.”
Toji gives her a look, knowing that she was bullshitting him. There was definitely more to what she was saying than she was letting on. 
“Nope,” he responds instead, “I do have a mouth on me, but I’m a grown ass man, I know how to— what do you’ be saying? Keep it cute? I’m hip as fuck!” 
“Oh god,” she giggles, wrapping her arms tightly around him, ignoring his chuckle that buried into her shoulder blade. 
Another thought passes of wanting to be upfront with him. But the atmosphere, their moment together—it was too beautiful to ruin. She just hoped he didn’t push about it, knowing that he could read anything on her face. 
“Do you know how much I love you?” She questions, kissing his jaw, pecking his nose, even along his cheeks.
His eyes dart over her face as she begins to pepper all over his cheeks with kisses. She attempts to act cutesy in order to distract him from the question, knowing all too well that she’s doing so. She was good at it too. 
He sighs as a small smirk forms on his face, “Nah, do you know how I love you?” he responds.
“Mmm, as much as the moon loves the stars within the sky?” She cheekily responds, pressing her forehead against his, feeling his hand press gently along her stomach.
Toji chuckles and rolls his eyes at her dorky response, one of his hands gently rubbing at her stomach while the other rests on her hip. He smirks at her, “Corny ass. I love you more than that.” 
When he kisses her, it feels breathless as he holds her jaw while sucking his lips into her mouth, as if it had more meaning behind it. When he pulled back, the warmth against her face and the dumb smile along it wouldn’t falter. She loved this man. 
“Now, back to the name game. I’m thinking Toji Jr, or Megumi-Toji-Jr, or, Toji-Megumi-Jr, yeah?” 
Seioni rolls her eyes. She loves him, even if he was a damn idiot. 
As the sun sets along the island, Seioni and Toji meet the rest of her family out towards the beach, a family dinner now taking place. Her black baby tee and a long matching skirt that draped down to her ankles, orchid sandals and a matching flower along the side of her hair made her feel somewhat decent—even if she kept glancing down at her stomach— She waved excitedly as everyone cheered when they arrived, Toji holding her hand behind her to make sure she didn’t trip within the sand. 
He was like a baby, wanting to have a tantrum when she asked him to wear a Hawaiian button up, the man wanting to die before he put on patterned clothes. Instead she got him to wear a pair of black and white flowered swimming trunks, white long sleeve clinging to his broad frame—he still wasn’t entirely happy about it.
The group had set up a makeshift table on the sand, chairs and a checkered picnic blanket set out. The sun was setting, the ocean and sky turning into a blend of oranges and pinks, the scene quite breathtaking. 
The family sat around the table, eating and making small talk. Toji leaned into the seat, his body relaxed and his hand rested on Seioni’s lower back. Despite them being his soon to be in-laws, Toji found her family entertaining enough, able to keep him interested with their banter back and forth.
Hula dancers suddenly appeared as they all talked, their villa's host also appearing as he welcomed them to Maui. The family was amazed as some of the girls performed fire tricks, their hips moving in ways that were more than talented. It wasn’t too long before Megumi stood from where he sat next to Seioni and Toji and played in the sand, running up to them as he began to dance—which was jumping around in a baby’s attempts to find rhythm, giggling as the hula girls smiled at him.
The family laughed at the adorable sight before them, Toji chuckling at the little dancing Megumi, jumping around and babbling. It was extremely cute, the hula dancers all smiling and waving at the little boy. 
“Don’t think you got those moves from your non-rhythm ass daddy, huh?” Seioni’s aunt giggled. 
“Not too much! I have rhythm!” Toji defends himself, Seioni giggling beside him. 
Everyone was now up— her brother flirting his way into getting one of the Hula girls' numbers, her mom pulling her dad up to dance with her, and her aunt recording Megumi as she shouted, “Go Meg! Go Meg!” 
Seioni hadn’t felt this happy in a while. As she turned her head to kiss Toji, a hula girl came forward, pulling her up off the sand to dance with her, trying to teach her the movement of her hips. 
Seioni giggled, her cheeks warm as she followed, raising her hands above her body as she twisted her hips to follow the music that played.
Toji couldn’t help but smile at her as he watched her follow along with the hula girl. Her body moved in a fluid motion, hips twisting and swaying. Toji’s smile only grew wider, the joy and twinkle in her eyes making his heart skip in his chest. She looked so happy and so free, as if nothing in the world could get in her way. 
His eyes darkened in a different way as he watched how she looked in her tight skirt and top, the way it hugged her curves. He loved her in more ways than one, but at times it felt like he was digging his nails into the surface, trying to hold back a side of him she knew the first night she’d met him. He was becoming impatient, and he was an extremely patient man.
Seioni was now dancing with Megumi, spinning him around playfully. When her Aunt Celeste wanted the baby all to herself, Seioni brought her attention back towards Toji as she leaned down with her arms out, gesturing for him to dance with her.
Toji rolled his eyes slightly as he was pulled to his feet, his hand gripping her as their bodies pressed close together. He chuckled, wrapping one arm around her hips while his other hand gripped hers as they began to sway, his eyes gazing down at her. 
“You really just can’t get enough of me, huh, woman?”
“Never. It’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” 
She sighs, wrapping her arms around his neck, giggling as he pulls her sandals on top of his shoes, twisting her around and holding her up by them. He leans down as he brings his lips to her neck, a small gasp leaving her lips as she feels his palm slam on her ass, pulling her eyes up as she shrieks, “Fushiguro!”
“Don’t act like that. They know how you got pregnant in the first place.” 
“I’m putting a muzzle on you for the rest of the time here,” she tells him, “You’re not being good.”
His eyebrow raises, mischief glistening in his eyes as he chuckles at the threat. He leans in closer, his nose almost bumping against hers. 
“Let me start barking then.”
She rolls her eyes, leaning her face up to kiss him, “Keep talking shit, maybe I’ll put a muzzle on my mouth and you’ll be using that hand all week.”
He raises an eyebrow, “A muzzle on you, huh? That’s some freaky shit. Ooh, girl, you’re nasty.”
Seioni giggles as he fully picks her up and spins her around, kissing away their entire conversation. The family spent hours along the beach, the night nearly going into dawn when they made it back to the villa. Toji felt like he’d been hit by a train, the jet-lag and overall tiredness he felt hitting him all at once as they made their way to bed.
 Megumi was sleeping with Celeste, while Nova and her parents had their own rooms, leaving Toji and Seioni alone to themselves. His hand rubbed her stomach until she fell asleep, finally allowing his own eyes to close once he knew she was comfortable. 
…But just as he was deep within his rest, a knock came pounding at their door. It felt like he’d just closed his eyes. 
“Good morning Love Birds, we’re all going to breakfast!” 
Her mom calls through the door. When she doesn’t hear anything, she knocks again. Still silent. She then makes the decision to open the door without asking permission, walking towards the bed as she tugged at the covers along their feet.
“I know y’all hear me!”
Seioni groans softly, her eyes blinking open to see her mom standing at the end of the bed. She says to her softly, “Hi, mommy.”
As she turns, she sees Toji is also awake—practically giving her mom the death stare, his eyes only peeking above the covers, pulling Seioni closer to him. 
“The fuck?” he grumbled, still glaring.
“Toji,” she scolded softly, tapping his chest at his reaction, “We’ll be down there in a minute, mom.”
“‘The fuck I am,” he disagreed under his breath, deepening himself under the covers.
“Hurry up! I love me some French toast, it’ll be gone in seconds!”
With that, her mom slams the door, Toji almost wanting to throw something against the wall at all the loud sounds imploding his ears.
Seioni sighs, running a hand over her face as she murmurs, “What time is it?”
“Too early to be having motherfuckers slamming the door open talking about some dumb ass French toast,” Toji mutters back, immensely irritated. 
“Hey, that’s my momma you’re talking about, jackass. Tighten up,” she flicks his nose, “Why are you so grumpy? You’ literally get up at the ass crack of dawn to go to work. What’s so different now?”
“Because? I’m not at work right now?” His voice held a grumpy tone, obviously not amused by her mother’s sudden appearance. 
His eyes narrowed as he looked up at her, “How the hell can you even act so calm right now? You hate your sleep being interrupted.”
“Because we’re on vacation and should enjoy every moment we have together, Fushiguro,” she pulls his face up to meet hers, squeezing his cheeks as she says, “Lighten up, Muffin?” 
His hands reach up to take a hold of her wrists, his irritation only building, “No.” he says firmly. 
“Mean ass,” she insults, “Maybe you do need some breakfast.”
His eyes peek open at that. When he glances down at her appearance, scarf around her hair and in his jersey, the vanilla spray she spritzed on herself before they went to sleep inhaled his senses—this is when he found her most attractive. 
Maybe he did need to relax. His eyes darken as he comes closer, his lips along her neck as he sucks at the skin, coming up as he latches a kiss against her mouth. 
He grunts, “You’re right. Open your fuckin’ legs, I’m hungry.” 
Her body tenses up as he kisses her, his hand along her belly making her want to squirm. What if she wasn’t as seductive as she used to be? 
She was doing her best to keep up with him, that much he knew. He could feel it in the kisses, the way her body reacted to his touch. But she wasn’t fully giving herself to him. He wanted more from her. He needed that hunger that he knew she was holding back—He needed her to be as desperate as he was. 
He let out a low growl between their kisses, clutching her hair within his fingers as he tugged her head back, licking the skin of her throat. She whimpers softly, “Toji…”
“Quit holding back,” he murmurs against her skin. He can feel her breath hitch again, her body trembling in his grip, “Let me make you feel good.”
A soft moan comes from her lips as she grabs his hair in her fingers, head falling back as she tries to relax her body. For a moment she felt okay. But when she notices how he has to hover over her to not hit her belly, her insecurities come crumbling onto her. 
It was also right on time, another knock coming to the door as her mom calls, “I know y’all don’t want me to bust in this damn room again!” 
She stopped him. Pressing her hand against his jaw to push him back, she says softly, “Maybe we should just go get breakfast.”
Knock, knock, knock. 
His eyes narrow, irritation returning, this time for a completely different reason. This was the last thing he wanted. He was finally getting somewhere with her, she was finally letting herself go, and now they were being interrupted again. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” 
She sighs, “I don’t need the house cussing us out, everyone has to eat together in my family,” she briefly explains, “Plus…my belly is kinda…in the way…” 
She brushes her self deprecating thoughts away as she sighs, “Lets just go.” 
“‘The fuck are you talking about?”
She ignores that question. Now standing from the bed, she removes her scarf as her braids come falling around her face, edges still sculpted perfectly as she pulls on some house slippers, going to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
His eyes follow her as she stands, his mood now more than just sour. She really thinks that his thoughts have changed because of a baby bump? He loves her, and nothing about her looks or her body would ever change that. 
But just like her—he wasn’t in the mood to argue. He swings himself off the bed, running a hand through his messy black hair. His irritation grew the more he thought about her comment.
When they finally make their way into the kitchen's dining area, Seioni politely greets the workers as they place their food against the table, Toji glaring behind her as he sits, quickly greeting the family, “Morning.” 
He sees Megumi sitting at the table with Celeste, rubbing his eyes as he whines softly. When he sees Toji, he raises his arms up, the first time of him wanting his father’s attention since they’ve been here.
He looks to her aunt, “Did you wake him up?”
“We did. Eating together is tradition, that includes sleeping babies! We woke Seioni and Nova up every morning around this time to eat breakfast, tired or not. You have to get used to getting up early,” Saanaà tells him. 
“He has trouble sleeping, I don’t need him waking up if he’s finally asleep. That makes him irritated throughout the day, and he won’t stop fussing,” Toji says, voice filled with annoyance from what Seioni could read. She lightly places her hand over his.
Her touch manages to calm him down a bit, although his irritation was still there. He was just happy that at least she was calm, he didn’t want her stress levels to go up.
“He’ll be okay, nothing a pacifier can’t fix!” Her aunt then chimes in, an uncomfortable tension now in the air. 
Seioni then lightly passes, “We’re trying to get him off the pacifier, Aunt Celeste.” 
Her mom takes a fork, digging it into her toast as she shrugs, “He’s a baby. No need to do all that extra shit and go by his schedule, you’re the parent. He’s gonna cry regardless. Let him.”
Seioni presses her lips into her mouth. Here they go, she thought.
 As she went to respond to that, Toji leaned forward as Megumi still had his hands out for him, the two year old whining as he cradled into his fathers arms. He leaned his head against his shoulder with his thumb now in his mouth.
How was she going to tell him how to raise his own fucking kid? 
Seioni looks to her father and brother, knowing how her aunt and mom could be. They thankfully catch her quiet call for help as Noel says, “So, what’s the plans for today, Oni’?” 
“I was thinking me and Toji could look at some venues in Maui, I really am thinking about a wedding along the beach, as long as it isn’t too hot,” she tells them with a soft smile, clutching her fingers in Toji’s that’s under the table, feeling the tense in his body. 
“You’re doing that today?” Her aunt blinks, “Girl, we have plenty of time for that. Why don’t we go jet-skiing! Or swim with the turtles?”
“Ooh! Jet-skiing sounds nice as hell!” Her mom agrees, the both of them clinking their mimosas together.
Nova then chimes in, “Yeah, momma. That sounds cool. But you wouldn’t wanna go see some beach venues?” He tries to reel both women back in, seeing as this is what his sister wants, and Toji’s eyes narrow as they try to force their itineraries on her.
“Not really. A beach wedding is simple anyways, honey,” Seioni’s mom shakes her head, “Your father married me in a beautiful cathedral, with angels, cherubs and renaissance paintings all against the walls. You should want more than that.”
That makes Seioni blink for a moment, her hand going lax in Toji’s. She knew how her mom could be, wanting things for herself and putting them onto her daughter, she just wished this wasn’t the time she did that.
His fingers twitch under the table, his irritation only growing as the conversation continued. How could they just disregard her? Didn’t they care about what she wanted?
“Well, um—maybe you guys can just go jet-ski and me and Toji will look for venues?” She then suggests, “You can take Megumi, I’m sure he’d enjoy the water way more.”
“Girl, this is a family vacation, meaning we’re all supposed to be together. You’re coming,” her mom finalizes, her aunt then saying, “Toast to that!” The both of them once again clinking those stupid ass mimosas. They were obviously tipsy. 
Eyes fall onto Toji who then stands from the table, holding Megumi as he says, “I’m gonna go try to feed him upstairs and put him down for a nap.” 
Seioni could feel her fiancées annoyance. She could feel the frustration radiating off of him. But she knew he was trying to hold his mouth for the sake of her family. 
She gives him a weak smile as she says, “Okay,” accepting the peck of his lips against hers before he makes his way upstairs.
“Toji can be a grumpy ass man it seems,” her mom points out, not realizing how irritating she’s being. 
“It’s just hard for us to get Megumi to sleep at times, Momma. Him being woken up this early dismisses the schedule we have him on,” she tries to explain.
“He’ll be okay,” her mom waves her hand, “There’s a lot we’re going to be doing, you both just need to relax a little bit.”
"And it's not all about Megumi," her aunt adds, "You have to think about us. We want to spend time with you, too."
Her eyes narrow slightly as she tries not to get riled up, "I know…”
Her mom takes a sip of her mimosa, her voice lowering, "But just think, is your fiancée seriously gonna be happy with a beach wedding?" 
Seioni can feel her shoulders tense as her mom puts doubt into her mind. She can see what she’s trying to do—maybe it’s starting to work.
“He’s happy with whatever I want, Mom,”  she pulls a braid behind her ear, “The whole reason we came to Maui was because he knew this was one of my places I wanted to get married.”
"Really?" Her aunt's voice is a mix between disbelief and surprise. "That man is happy with whatever you want?" 
Her mom shakes her head, "You really have him whipped, huh?"
“I need to get my husband like that,” her mom then laughs loudly, her aunt then chiming in, “I need all three of my men on my knees like he is!”
“Saanaà,” Seioni’s father scolds, Nova pulling out his phone to dismiss himself from this entire conversation.
Seioni blinks back and forth between them, feeling herself becoming irritated as well. If she let them go on for too long, they started berating everyone around. It wasn’t fun. 
Seioni presses her lips into her mouth as she says, “I’m gonna go take my medicine, we can meet back down here in the next hour for jet-skiing…or swimming with the turtles, yeah?”
Her mom gives her a sly smile, taking another sip of her mimosa, "Mhm, sounds like a plan, honey. Take your meds and we'll see you soon." 
Seioni's dad places his hand on her shoulder, Nova looking up from his phone, giving her a nod, agreeing that everything would be fine. Hopefully.
She could hear her mom and aunt both say, “Beach wedding…” another laugh, another clink of those fucking mimosas. 
As she makes her way upstairs, she opens the door to see Toji sitting at the end of the bed with Megumi as he holds a bowl of eggs towards him, the tv along the wall playing a cartoon that they usually watched together. 
Toji raised the scrambled eggs in his hand as he gestured to the baby, “Eat-eat?”
Megumi stares at the bowl in front of him, his eyes wide as he glances between Toji and the eggs. There's hesitation on his expression, as if he isn't sure if he wants to eat the food or not. Then his stomach growls, and he makes a face.
“No, Eat-Eat,” he pouts, rubbing his eyes, getting eggs within his hair as his tiny fingers rub his face. 
“Eat, eat,” Toji says again, a hint of impatience in his voice. He tries to guide the spoonful of eggs closer to Megumi's mouth, but the little boy turns his head away, refusing to open.
Seioni sighs as she closes the door. Toji looks at her, watching as she crosses her arms over her chest, a blank stare in her face as she keeps her eyes against the floor. The entire tables conversation replays in her head—she felt like this trip was slowly taking a turn. 
“No hungry, Oni’,” Megumi says to her, pushing the spoon away that Toji holds to him. 
Seioni sighs, “Eat-eat, Meggie. Then, go to bed? Yeah?”
Megumi blinks again, a deeper pout coming on his olive cheeks, skin deepening in red as tears gloss his eyes. He pouts, “Paci,” his own way of trying to say Pacifier. Toji shakes his head, “Don’t want you to cry, papa. Please eat-eat.”
He sniffles, leaning forward as he opens his mouth, Toji making a blowing sound with his lips to gain his attention, pushing the spoon within his mouth as he finally accepts the eggs. He watches as Megumi then takes the small bowl he has, beginning to mush the eggs together before shoving them into his mouth, crumbs falling all along the bed.
“You’ good?” Toji then takes his attention towards Seioni. 
She presses her lips in as she nods, “Yeah. I’m fine.”
"You don't look fine," he says bluntly, his eyes lingering. He knows her better than that.
“I’m just…my mom and my aunt are just drinking too much,” she brushes off, “That’s all. I don’t want Meggie to be irritated and sleepy all day, I just…wanna go look at venues.”
"We'll go look at venues," he assures her, his voice gentle. "We can go to every fuckin’ venue on this beach, baby. Whatever you want.”
Seioni takes in another breath. She wanted this vacation to be perfect, and for everyone to be happy. She didn’t want to be a pregnant bridezilla. 
She shakes her head, giving a fake smile as she sighs, “We’ll go jet-skiing, and swim with the turtles. It’ll be fun! We can check out the venues tomorrow.”
It’s unfortunate he could see right through her. 
"You sure about that, sunshine?" he asks, his voice laced with sarcasm. "We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and you can tell your family that. You don’t have to be scared of them.”
She glances over to Megumi who’s now laying on her side of the bed, slowly dozing off as he keeps his eyes upon the show he watches. 
She crosses her arms again as she frowns, “Who said I was scared? I’m a grown ass woman, Fushiguro.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t. But you don’t have to let them walk over you.”
“And I’m not?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, so drop it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” 
With that, she ignores the smack on his lips, Toji standing to shower, going around her as he pulls his shirt off of his upper body. She doesn’t even jump as the door slams behind him. She keeps her arms crossed, feeling like this was their first argument since they’d been here. This wasn’t going as well as she thought it would.
The disagreement between her and Toji made her feel weird. She didn’t like fighting with him, and now silence filled the tension for the next hour as they got ready for a day at the beach. She thought about her family, her mom, her aunt, she just wished that everyone was on one accord. But more importantly, she didn’t want to be at odds with Toji. 
She watched as Megumi was now fully dressed but asleep on the bed, Toji still within the shower as she was left alone to stare at herself. She stood in a royal blue bikini top and bottom, golden seashells clasped beneath the material under her breasts. She turned to the side, seeing her belly poking out in a way that made her feel huge. She could feel her eyes watering. 
Why couldn’t she stop feeling like this? Why did she wish she was within her regular body, feeling confident and sexy? For herself? For her fiancée? For herself?
She pulled her hair behind her ear as she heard the bathroom open, now feeling Toji’s broad frame beside her, his arms coming around from behind. Her body immediately leaned back against him.
She said softly, “I feel like…I don’t belong in this bikini.”
His muscles flex as he pulls her in closer to him. He leans down, his chin resting on her shoulder as he looks at her through the mirror. 
"Why do you say that?" he asks, his voice gruff but gentle. "You look fuckin’ perfect, baby."
She keeps her eyes down, not wanting to make herself cry, “I don’t know…maybe I should put something else on.”
"You don't have to put something else on," he says, his voice low. He brings his arm around her shoulders and neck, kissing her ear as he says, “You’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet.” 
She holds onto his arm, “You have to say that. You’ll be my husband soon.” 
“And I’ll say it a million times until you know I mean everything I say. Cut that self-deprecation shit out.”
She jumps lightly as she feels his palm slam along her ass, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she rubs the tears that are trying to form in her eyes.
“I’m okay,” she convinces herself, bringing her eyes up as she says, “You look nice.”
Toji smirks as she glances up at him through the mirror, her eyes raking over his bare chest and the towel hanging low on his hips. It’s obvious how she’s trying to change the subject, but he doesn’t mind. 
“Don’t start flirting with me now, I’ll blush like a school boy,” he teases, his eyes glimmering with mischief as he grins at her reflection.
She laughs softly, leaning her face into his arm, inhaling the scent of his cologne. She then whispers, “I don’t…I don’t like when we fight.”
“Neither do I,” he agrees, his voice quieter now. “You’re not scared of your family,” he says, repeating the point he made earlier, “But don’t let them walk all over you, yeah?”
She nods her head, tilting her head to look back at him, “You love me? You won’t throw me into the ocean with the fish?”
Toji grins down at her, his eyes sparkling as he leans his face closer to hers. “I love you, momma. More than you know,” He then chuckles lightly, pretending to ponder over her question. “I may throw you in the water later, though.”
She rolls her eyes, leaning up as she kisses him again. 
The rest of the day had gone more pleasant than either of them expected, assuming the chaos of this morning would roll over into the day. Instead, the family enjoyed their time together. They went out to the water to jet ski, Seioni’s mom and her father on one, Nova by himself, and Toji pulling a fearful Seioni on his own while Celeste and Megumi watched from the boat—Celeste taking videos, per usual. Seioni shrieked as they sped on the vehicle, holding onto him tightly as he perfectly maneuvered throughout the crisp water.
He gunned the engine, causing the jet ski to leap forward, Seioni’s screams and giggles piercing the air. Everyone cheered as they coasted along the water, exploring the sight of the island, seeing the beauty of it from this perspective. When they were back on land they tried out Hawaiian snacks, Seioni for a moment seeing her mother and Toji getting along, cracking jokes with one another in a way that made her happy. She knew him, her brother and her father would immediately click. But to see Toji become close with her mom and aunt, it made her feel warm.
As the sun began to set and the sky turned brilliant hues of orange, pink, and gold, Seioni's family gathered for a barbecue dinner on the beach. They had cooked burgers and hot dogs on grills and set out side dishes and beverages on a long table. Toji sat next to Seioni, one arm around her chair as they all enjoyed the meal together.
In the soft flickering light of the torches and the glow of the sunset, Seioni found herself feeling a sense of peace and contentment that she hadn't expected to feel on this vacation.
They laid out along the sand as they were in a vicious game of Uno, her aunt and mom on their third fruity drinks, giggling as they talked shit to each other. 
Seioni rolled her eyes as she put down her card, “The color is…red!”
Toji laughed as Seioni declared the color, her aunt and mom groaning with frustration. The game had been going on for a while now, with all of them getting progressively more competitive as the drinks continued to flow. 
"You guys need to pay attention," Seioni teased, unable to contain her smirk as she watched her mom and aunt pout. Saanaà rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink as she said, "We're trying."
Her aunt chimed in with a scoff, "Yeah. It's not our fault that the colors are confusing, especially at night."
Toji chimed in, his voice laced with amusement, "Or maybe y’all are just tipsy as hell.”
“Red looks orange to me!” Celeste shook her head, Nova saying, “Orange isn’t even a color!”
The group burst out laughing at that. As they continued to place their cards down, Megumi sat beside Toji, playing in the sand. He stood on his small feet to get a better leverage on the castle Toji had helped him make earlier, but as he leaned against the sand, he began tugging at the shorts he wore, reaching for his diaper.
Seioni notices him tugging at his bottoms, calling him as she asks, “Meggie, go potty?”
He looked at her, nodding vigorously, “Potty.” 
He attempted to get up, but his small feet immediately sank back into the sand, causing him to lose his balance and stumble back down. Toji chuckled, reaching out to scoop him into his arms as he swiftly tugged his diaper open, catching a waft of stench in the baby’s pants. 
“Fuckin’ hell, Meg. Why didn’t you say potty? You don’t want to get a rash,” he talks more to himself, knowing Megumi couldn’t actually respond. Megumi babbles, wrapping his arms around Toji’s neck to hide himself, always becoming shy when he had an accident, knowing they’d been trying to get him on the toilet. 
“That’s because he can barely speak to say he needs to shit. Maybe y’all should’ve taught him that,” Seioni’s mom says, and it almost feels like an insult. With the way everyone went quiet,  it probably was. 
“Mom,” Seioni warns, “He’s two. He’s not gonna speak like the rest of us. He makes gestures when he needs something.” 
“Oh don’t give me that age bullshit, you and Nova knew how to speak perfectly at two. Knew colors. Even could count to fifty. It’s about the parent, and their lack of teaching to their child.”
Toji narrows his eyes, letting his mouth draw first as he questions, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“Toji,” Seioni scolds.
“My kid is doing perfectly fuckin’ fine, last time I checked,” Toji sharply replies, “We’re good as fuck over here.”
"The toilet exists yet he still shits himself!" Her mom retorts back, and Toji has to bite his tongue, holding back the urge to curse this woman out. 
“Just say he isn’t fully developed. You don’t have to give excuses, we can teach him something you might not be able to,” Saanaà finalizes, taking another sip of her wine cooler. 
Luckily, Seioni’s dad interrupts the growing tension—before Toji can rip this woman’s head off—his gentle voice trying to diffuse the situation. "Hey, hey. Let's not start fighting. Meggie's just fine.”
Seioni then agrees with a frown, “He’s doing just fine for his age. You’re tipsy.”
“Don’t tell me what the fuck I am, little girl! I’m a grown ass woman, I can drink when I wanna drink!”
“Don’t think ‘cause you got a lil’ family you can start talking to us crazy!” Her aunt pipes in. 
Seioni presses her lips together, watching as Toji then stands from his spot, taking Megumi as they begin making their way back towards the villa. He was upset with her for not only saying anything back to her family, but not defending him, knowing if he defended himself it would cause problems.
Her brother helps her stand from her spot before she follows Toji back into the villa, making her way upstairs as she finds him changing Megumi’s diaper. 
“Baby—“
“Nah. Don’t do that, Seioni. You know that shit was disrespectful as fuck.”
“I know that,” she says back, stepping farther into the door.
“You just sat there and let them say that about Megumi? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Seioni’s eyebrows lower, “‘The fuck do you mean by that? I can’t control my mom’s mouth, nor my aunts. I didn’t expect them to say any of that, Fushiguro.”
“It ain’t ‘bout your mom,” Toji snaps, his jaw clenching as his tone gets louder. He hates how she’s now addressing him by his last name, and with an annoyed grunt, he adds, “You could’ve at least said something about it. Defend us. Me. Something.”  
“You’re a grown ass man, Fushiguro. You could’ve told them something, you didn’t seem too afraid to start snapping up on my mom the minute she started talking about Megumi. Let’s talk about your disrespectful, big headed ass!” She insults, coming closer to him, her head tilting up as he towers over her frame.
Toji scoffs, the corner of his lip lifting up in a sneer. “My disrespectful, big headed ass? My disrespectful ass??”
“How about your disrespectful ass not saying anything when your mom insults our family. That’s what has me pissed. You didn’t stick up for your own motherfuckin’ so-called husband.” 
They’re going back and forth, not realizing that the rest of the family has entered the house. Her aunt and mother are too in their own world to hear the argument, her father trying to sober them up as her brother overhears. 
Nova quickly comes upstairs as he then says, “Hey, uh—I can take Megumi downstairs, I’m gonna make some smoothies, I think he’ll like it?” Trying to make sure the baby wasn’t within the room for their argument.
Toji’s eyes dart towards her brother as he appears, watching as he extends his hands towards Meg, reaching to pick him up. Toji nods and hands the child gently over to him, watching as he leaves the room. 
When he’s out of sight, Toji’s attention turns back to Seioni, focusing his scowl back on her. His face is stern, his hand running through his hair as he speaks, his voice quieter. 
“You should’ve said something. Anything, Seioni.” 
“So all of this is my fault? Let’s not act like you don’t have a fuckin’ mouth on you that I have to constantly put on a leash. What she said was wrong, but to point fingers at me? Fuck that, and fuck you!”
Those words hit right where he didn’t want them to, and a bitter laugh leaves his lips as he shakes his head. 
“This is what the fuck I was talking about. I’ve been so patient with your family. Your mom. Your aunt. Waking me up early as fuck as if I’ve slept, letting them walk all over you and tell you what to do as if you aren’t a grown ass woman. My fuckin’ woman. And now, telling me how to raise my kid? I’ve really been sparing your ass on the civil fact that I don’t want to get into it with your people. I love you too much to do that.”
“Oh, I’m supposed to be thankful on account of that? For not cussing out my mom and aunt? Man of the fuckin’ year, aren’t you?” She tilts her head, her body practically fuming as she becomes more pissed off, “You’re right. They’re a pain in the ass, I know that. You’re smart as fuck to not fix your mouth to say some slick shit to my momma. But instead of taking your lashings out on me, be a man and tell them that yourself! You can use your words without talking out of your neck, Fushiguro!” 
“I am a fuckin’ man!” He shouts, “A man wouldn’t talk out the side of his neck to your family! I’m trying not to act an ass, but you’re taking me there. They’re taking me there. Stop talking to me like I’m stupid as fuck, Seioni.” 
Seioni nearly flinches back at his tone, the anger seeping between them implausible. It's evident he’d been feeling like this for a while, and the reaction was worse than she wanted it to be. When she goes to open her mouth, it’s cut off by the sudden sound of screaming coming from downstairs—they belonged to Megumi. 
The both of them take off without question. When they take sight of the living room, they see Megumi standing in the middle of the marble, holding his arm that’s welted red.
“What happened?” Toji snarls, Seioni immediately picking him up, her heart beating as she says, “What happened to your arm?”
“I looked away for two seconds and his little bad ass put one of his toys in the toilet, and now it’s overflowed!” Her aunt shouts, the look on her brother and father’s face full of shock.
“Did you hit him?” Seioni’s eyes go wide, Megumi’s heavy crying filling her ear as he leans into her chest.
Toji thought he was going to have to kill someone. He saw red, only focused on the welt within his child’s arm. He looks to her mom as he squints, “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? Why would you hit him? My fuckin’ child? Are you fuckin’ stupid?”
“He needs to learn! Y’all don’t seem to be teaching him shit! putting goddamn toys in the toilet—“
“That's for me to teach him!” Toji yells, deep voice having the entire villa shake, “You don’t get to tell me what the fuck to do about my kid! You and your insolent ass sister have too much liquor in your fuckin’ systems to have some sense!” 
“Aye, watch your fuckin’ mouth when you’re talking to my mom,” Nova warns, Seioni’s brother now glaring at Toji.
Toji was done.
“Or what, huh? ‘The fuck are you gonna do?” Toji’s fists clenched, his muscles becoming tense as he looked at Nova. “You wanna throw hands over your mom, you go right ahead. I’ll make you swallow your motherfuckin’ teeth.” 
Chaos ensues at this point. Megumi was still crying, Seioni tries to hold back Toji who lunges at Nova, and Seioni’s father holds back Nova who cusses out Toji right behind her mom and aunt that do the same. She feels overwhelmed, her worst fears coming to life—her entire family was falling apart. It gets so bad that the villa’s host had heard them from his part of the house, coming in and taking hold of Megumi who nearly falls in Seioni’s arms from tugging at Toji. 
“Stop it!” 
Her voice screams out, gripping Toji fully, tears masking in her vision, her cries catching the attention of the entire family—they’d never heard her raise her voice like that.
They all go silent, even Toji, who is breathing heavily. They all look at Seioni, and Toji is just surprised to be witnessing her on the verge of tears. She’d never looked so distraught. 
The room is filled with silence before her voice speaks up again, this time much less aggressive, much more vulnerable, almost like she was begging to be heard.
“This trip was supposed to be about me. I’ve been all over the place with this pregnancy, and the one thing I wanted was the support of all of you, and to enjoy my time here with my family, and yours all about to fuckin’ kill each other!” 
She raises her voice again, the entire room flinching, shocked to see her like this. She places her hand over her face as she sobs, trying to calm herself as she begins hyperventilating, “I didn’t…I didn’t even get to see one venue…”
The sight of her crying like this makes Toji’s heart want to drop. He frowns, becoming more pissed off at how upset they’ve all made her.
“Baby—“
“No, Fushiguro. Everything’s just…fucking ruined…” she continues to cry, high pitched as she gasps to try to control her breathing.
Toji swallows the lump in his throat, his chest feeling heavy as she speaks. She’s right, this was supposed to be about her, a time for her to get away from all the stress of pregnancy and relax. But instead, they all got wrapped up in their own emotions. 
Everyone feels a pang of guilt. The silence is heavy as Megumi blinks within the hosts’ arms, seeing Seioni’s tears, trying to understand her emotions. 
“Oni’, sad?”
She hears the small voice, her focus now going back to him. He shouldn’t have had to see the bullshit of this situation. 
With that, she politely takes him into her arms, cradling him as she begins making her way out of the villa. Toji’s deep voice calls for her, “Seioni—Seioni!”  going to go after her when her father then says, “Just let her go, Toji. She’ll be fine. She just needs time.”
Toji grinds his teeth at those words, wanting to go after her. He hates leaving her alone when she’s upset, but her father was right. She just needed some time. But that didn’t make leaving any easier. 
He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he closes his eyes, his jaw clenching as he looks back at her family. Nova looks upset, her mom and aunt looking somewhat guilty. No one dared to speak after their outburst, so the living room remained tense.
Seioni makes her way out onto the beach, going farther than she planned for herself to. She walked for what felt like almost twenty minutes, finding a small patch of rocks, a seating area with flowers surrounding it. She sees from afar as children play by the water, placing Megumi beside her as she clumps the sand up for his attention, just needing the comfort of him knowing he wouldn’t have much to say. She then sighs, watching as the sun sets, placing her hands over her belly, rubbing gently. 
“You’re causing havoc before you even get here, Y’know that?” She looks down to her stomach.
The evening wind blows as the sun slowly falls, washing over Seioni’s face, which is puffy and red from her previous tears. As she sits on the little rock, she speaks to her belly, the sound of her baby’s heartbeat filling her ears as she touches her stomach. She finds herself surrounded by tranquility, the soft waves of the water and the laughter of children bringing her comfort.
She then looks at Megumi, leaning her hand out as he wraps his small fingers around her index. She says softly to him, “Oni’ love Megumi. And Papa.”
Megumi takes hold of her finger, his tiny hand around her index. His large round eyes look up at her, a look of curiosity within his gaze. His little nose scrunches as he tries to say something back, but nothing comes out aside from a few babbles, making his little pink lips pursed together.
She giggles, opening her palm as he pats his hand against hers a couple of times, blowing raspberries into his other hand. All of her guilt hits her, despite everyone being the cause of their own issues. She wished her mom and aunt hadn’t been so rude at times, she wishes Toji wasn’t so easy to anger, but she also wishes that she had stood up for him, for Megumi. She loved them both so much, and this was now her family as well. With that, she decides to sit in silence with Megumi, watching as the sun goes down.
                        ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆
A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED, and the family was becoming more nervous. When they realized that Seioni wasn’t anywhere near the villa, they also found out she didn’t have her phone. They sent the host to go look for her, Toji nearly about to have a nervous breakdown as he thought the worse.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Toji,” Noel tells him, trying to get him to relax.
“She doesn’t have her phone, and she’s on an island she’s never been to. Pregnant. With fuckin’ Megumi,” he’s angry, he’s unsure why, he just wants to see her. Make sure she’s okay. Was she lost?
“Talking to her while she’s still upset won’t do anything but make shit worse,” he reminds.
Her mother and aunt sit along the couch, now drinking water instead of their usual mimosa or wine cooler. They both feel bad about the way they’ve been speaking to Seioni and her fiancè. 
Her aunt sighs, “Look—we’re so sorry, Toji. Everything that happened was just—wrong. Our control issues, hitting Megumi, trying to tell you what to do—You’re a good father, and will be an amazing husband.”
Her mom then nods her head, “She’s right. We’re happy to have you in our family, Toji. We’re so sorry about everything that’s happened.”
Toji exhales deeply, the words from her mother and aunt bringing him a sense of comfort, though he's still anxious as to when she'd return. He glances out the windows, the sun fully falling now in the distance. 
"We can talk about this later, but I appreciate it. I just wanna make sure my wife is okay.”
“We’ cool too, right? I only was about to fight cause you were talking crazy to my momma, although it was fair. She get on my damn nerves too, you’re cool as fuck, though,” Nova finds his way of apologizing, his mom smacking the back of his head for his words.
Toji lets out a gruff sigh and turns to Nova, giving him a small nod. He didn't blame the guy for being protective, he probably would've done the same thing. His words get a small laugh from him. 
"We’re good. You were trying to look out for your mom. I can't blame you for that.“
Tension comes off of everyone, and the room feels lighter. But one thing remained the same—Seioni was still missing. 
Another hour and a half passed, and Toji was now frustrated, still worried, but even more irritated. She entered back into the villa without saying anything, holding Megumi’s hand as she let him walk.  
The minute she closed the door, Toji was the first one to speak up, “And where the fuck have you been?”
He couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean to be harsh, but he missed her greatly. He was scared shitless for anything to happen to her. 
Seioni lets go of Megumi, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks at Toji, not replying to his aggression. 
Her mom takes that notion as she stands, “How about we all go take a walk on the beach and let these two talk, hm?”
Nova swoops Megumi into his arms, everyone practically flying out of the house—including the host—closing the door behind themselves. Seioni then begins making her way upstairs, Toji nearly breaking his neck as he watches her walk away from him, saying nothing. He of course follows behind her.
“So I’m not talking right now? ‘The fuck am I being ignored for?”
“I’m fine, Toji. Okay? I’m fine, you see? I’m here,” she clarifies, “I just needed space.”
"You've been gone for damn near three hours. Excuse me for being worried.” He snaps back, his worry slowly becoming anger. He steps closer towards her, his voice still low. 
“What if something happened? You didn’t have your phone, alone on an fuckin’ island—“
Her usual response would’ve been to snap back at him. But she can see the tense in his shoulders, the drain in his face. She comes forward, bringing her hands to his face as she pulls him down, “Hey,” she says softly, “I’m fine, Fushiguro.” 
She knows he’s not angry at her— he was terrified—and didn’t know how to show it. She can feel him nearly shaking, wrapping her arms around his neck as she inhales his scent.
 She says quietly, “I missed you too.”
When she grabs his face, he almost flinches, not anticipating the action. But as soon as she speaks, his shoulders slightly relax. 
He feels her arms around his neck, and his arms instinctively go to her waist, his hands grabbing her hips as he tugs her body against his. He buries his face into her neck, breathing her in as he feels himself shake. His voice is hoarse as he talks, not pulling away from her just yet. 
“I was scared as hell.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, “I just…needed time to think.” 
Her tone makes him replay everything that’s happened on this trip, and he feels guilty, wishing he would’ve been more upfront about his feelings, wishing it hadn’t gotten this far.
“I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice quiet. His hands tighten around her hips as he moves his face close to hers. “I should’ve been honest.”
She then pulls him back down, clutching him as if she feels like he would pull away at any second. She muffles into his shirt, “You’re a great dad—please know that. You’ll be an equally amazing husband, baby.”
He closes his eyes and buries his face back into her neck, his chest rising and falling as he tries to slow his racing heart. Her words bring comfort to him, and they make him feel better, but he can’t stop feeling guilty about what’s happened. 
“I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he grunts into her neck.
“I love you too,” she says softly, “I’m sorry I’ve also been…distant. I’m just—I’m not used to this whole pregnancy thing. I feel like…I’m not as attractive as I used to be.”
He listens intently as she speaks, feeling her breath against his neck. He pulls back to look at her, seeing the look of vulnerability across her features. It makes his chest clench tighter, seeing the insecurity in her eyes. 
“You are,” he says, his voice firm yet soft, “You’re sexy as hell, baby. You couldn’t change that even if you wanted to.” He gently touches her face, his eyes staring into hers.
Here go those tears she’d been trying to hold. Seioni gives a weak laugh as she quickly tries to wipe face, Toji brushing her cheek as he drags his hands down to her throat, clutching her forward, his eyes growing dark as he can feel she doesn’t believe his words.  
He grunts, “C’mere,” clutching her lips under his mouth. The aggression makes Seioni’s breath hitch, her tears spraying along her cheeks as she feels his body radiating a feeling she hadn’t endured in a while—lust. And he had been so patient with her.
“Toji—“
 Her voice is of a desperation he hadn’t heard in a while, her legs feeling weak as his lips are against her neck, quipping a match along her skin, blazing a fire within him. God, he’s missed the sound of her.
The way his body heats up as he kisses her, he can’t help but feel overwhelmed with desire, and it only gets worse the more tears fall down her cheeks. He has to show her what she means to him. 
She squeals lightly as he effortlessly wraps her legs around his hips, carrying her over towards the bed. Her eyes stare right across from the large mirror within their room. Her reflection. A heart beat thumps in Seioni’s chest as he raises her legs over his shoulders, dropping down onto his knees, ache, hunger within his eyes as hers are closed. 
“Keep your fuckin’ eyes open. Look at me.”
Her gasp could’ve shaken the house. He shoved her dress back, his tongue instantly dragging up her core, moaning against her like she was a desert he hadn’t tasted in a while. 
“Been wanting your pussy in my mouth since we got here, Baby. Fuck.” 
Seioni legs tremble to where she couldn’t control them, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she gripped his hair, kneeling back as her chest faltered. His head bobs up and down, slurping against her pussy in a way that makes a loud sound against the room. Her body quivers as she whimpers, “O—Oh—f—fuck, baby.”
Toji growls against her, the vibrations sending shudders through her body. His hands move to grip her thighs, holding her in place as he continues to devour her. He pulls back momentarily, panting heavily as he looks up at her. "You're so fuckin’ wet," he groans, his fingers tracing circles on her inner thigh. “I missed the taste of you." 
Seioni’s body buzzes as his head quickly dips back down between her legs, his tongue delving inside of her once again. He uses one hand to spread her opening wider, allowing his tongue to explore every inch of her. He licks and sucks at her clit, nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh before moving lower to lap at her entrance.
She feels flustered, her face warm as she looks at herself within the mirror. Her large belly, her flushed cheeks. She closes her eyes again. Her heart skips a beat when she feels one of his hands snake up through her body, pulling her face right to the mirror across from them, spreading her legs wider. 
His free hand reaches around to cup one of her breasts, thumb rubbing over her nipple through the fabric of her dress. He leans in, his breath hot against her ear as he whispers, "So beautiful... I want to fuck you everywhere..."
Her breath hitches in response, “Baby, I…” 
“That’s not my name,” Toji grunts, bringing his face back down, sucking her clit into his mouth, groaning as he shakes his head from side to side, digging his lips deeper against her arousal that begins collecting against his jaw. 
He holds her leg up by the ankles now, “Look at me eating your pussy, fuckin’ love every second of it. You taste like heaven. Can’t fuckin’ get enough of you.” 
She nearly throws her hands over her face, the warmth going into pure heat as she whimpers, “Stop it, Fushiguro,” shuddering as he deeply kisses her core, dragging his tongue down to her opening. 
“Shut the fuck up. Gonna put my tongue in you so deep, baby. Wanna see you squirt on my face. I miss that shit.”
She gasps, placing her hands back in his hair as he does exactly what he promised, spitting against her core before he takes it back into his mouth. He then pulls back, sticking his tongue out as he pushes it into her opening, listening to it squelch. He moans right when she moans, spreading her legs wider, rolling his jaw forward as he fucks his mouth deeper into her.
Toji continues to feast on Seioni's wet folds. He can't get enough of her taste, his tip throbbing painfully against his pants. The sounds she makes only serve to spur him on, driving him wild with lust. He feels her grip his hair tightly, her hips bucking against his face as she tries to chase her release.
He pulls back momentarily, panting heavily as he stares up at her. His eyes are glazed with desire, his lips glistening with her juices. He grins wickedly as he sees the desperation in her eyes, his own need mirrored there. "Not gonna stop until you cum all over my face," he growls, diving back in with renewed vigor.
The feeling is all too intense for her, body shaking as she messily groans, “Mmm—f—fuck,” it transferring out into a gasp and whine, her lower body relaxing as she cums  into his mouth, not giving her enough time to enjoy the feeling of him eating at her. The reaction makes him arrogantly chuckle, her body jumping more as he spanks her in response, “Ooh, that’s fuckin’ good baby. You’re sensitive. You’re gonna cum on my dick just like that.”
She feels like she could black out at any moment, holding onto him for dear life as he brings his attention back up to her clit. He then takes two of his fingers, sliding them deep into her. Her pussy pushes out air as a reaction, her head falling back as she whines in response, staring down as she whimpers, “Fushiguro…”
"So fuckin’ tight," he groans, his free hand reaching down to unzip his pants. His tip springs free, already leaking pre-cum, needing her.
“Fingers feel too big,” she whimpers, the longing of anything inside her making her feel a pinch at just his fingers—she wasn’t sure what she could handle. 
“I’m gonna stretch your shit out, give you the dick you’ve been crying for,” he grunts, his fingers slamming into her, sloshing against her walls, erogenous and fluttering around his palm. 
“Missed your fuckin’ pussy, baby,” he leans down, giving a gentle kiss on her thigh, “You’ missed me?” 
Seioni let out a deep breath, nodding her head as she whimpered out, “Missed you so much, baby.”
His eyes go dark, reminding her, “That’s not my name. You’ know my fuckin’ name. Say that shit.”
She felt herself falling apart already, her mind and body feeling fuzzy as she spreads her legs wider, “Keep eating my pussy,” she begs to him, another spank palming along the back of her thigh.
His eyes came up, “You’re begging me now?” 
She nods her head, “Want it so bad,” she whimpers. 
“No you don’t. Keep fuckin’ begging.”
She holds him by his hair, grinding her pussy against his face, sucking air into her mouth as his tongue delves in and out of her, the spread of her legs feeling so good. She felt like an addict, suddenly needing more from him.
His smirk grows wider at her response, his fingers digging into her thighs as he keeps going. His tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it into his mouth, humming in delight at the taste of her.
“N—Need more of you so fuckin’ bad, baby. Please…” she begs, bringing her hands to where her legs are, holding them up herself.
 It makes him chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ nasty, baby,” grunting, spanking her in repetitions. 
When he comes up, her arms feel numb as she tries to grip onto him, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he huffs to her, “Taste yourself,” gripping her throat.
He can feel her shaking, her body trembling. It had been a while since she felt this good, a slight pressure releasing, but not fully. As he stands, he clutches her by her hair, pulling her to where she gets on her knees, dragging her back towards the edge of the bed as he says, “You know how I want you—get on all fours.”
She complies, almost missing this side of him, the primal, animalistic side he tried to hold back with her pregnancy. She obliges, pressing her palms and knees against the bed, arching herself to the best of her ability. Her cheeks feel warm as she’s still looking directly at herself. 
He briefly pauses his dominant gestures as he asks, “You’ okay, baby? Need a pillow so you’re comfortable?”
She blinks, then nods her head. That didn’t feel like enough to him. 
“Use your fuckin’ words,” he commands with a grip to her hair, his palm lightly patting against her face. She nods, becoming more aroused as she says softly, “Yes, please. Thank you, Daddy.”
It’s all he’d been looking for. 
He takes a pillow as he places it under her belly, giving her another soft kiss, then making her entire body jump as he spanks her with his palm. She watches as he removes his shirt, her mouth practically watering at the sight of him. She places her hands along his hard stomach, running her fingers down as she moans, “Missed you so-so much, baby.”
She’s tugging at his pants, unable to help herself as she’s pulling his dick from beneath his boxers, already wrapping her lips around his tip. Her eyes are feline, mischievous as she wraps her fingers around the base of him, bobbing her head as she begins to seductively suck.
She sticks her tongue out, slapping it along her taste buds that makes him smirk down, tugging her hair as he gently smacks his hand along her face, “Missed my dick like that, huh?” 
She nods her head, the shyness she had before trying to break its walls down. He groans as she pulls her head forward, shoving his dick into the back of her throat, filling her entire mouth as her eyes roll to the back of her head, jaw lax as she chokes. It makes his head tilt back, gritting his teeth as he reaches forward, slamming his palm against her ass.
She pulls him out of her mouth as she rotates her hand against his tip, “Want you to fuck me from behind, please.”
In a way, he feels evil. Purposely wanting her in front of the mirror—he loved watching her, and he loved to make her watch herself. 
He’s now behind her, making sure the pillow is directly beneath her stomach, pressing kisses along her neck, clutching her throat from behind. He then pulls himself up, his broad frame large above hers, eyes dark as he watches her face. 
Seioni’s hips jerk as she feels his tip in between her folds, swollen and calling to pull him in. 
They both listen to themselves, a tight clutch returning  in the mess of her hair as he slowly and agonizingly pushes into her. Her eyes fall close, her fingers gripping the sheets beneath her. She digs her teeth into her lip, desperately trying to hold back the music that wants to spill from her mouth. But as he wraps his fingers around her throat from behind, mouth by her ear as he says, “Wanna feel just how much you miss me,” rolling his hips deeper into her, Seioni’s eyes roll to the back of her head, a whine shivering from her lips as she cums again, gushing out after several seconds. 
His fingers somehow slide into her mouth as she loses her mind, moaning incoherently as she pants against his palm, eyes striking back to the mirror. Toji groans against her throat, sultrily laughing as he begins dragging her back onto him, grinding his hips forward, listening to their skin clap together. 
“Shit,” baby,” she moans onto his fingers, Toji against her ear as he grunts, “Yeah? This all you wanted?” 
He clutches her mouth, the bite of her teeth is the grip he has on her, Seioni only able to hear the way their skin latches onto one another before letting go, wanting to hear it again, again, and again. 
“Fuck, Daddy,” she whines, unable to hold her mouth back, feeling like she was about to spiral.
Her body felt on overdrive, it being so long since she felt this type of pleasure. Her eyes watch them within the mirror, Toji’s broad frame practically shadowing hers, tugging her back onto his abdomen, the sound within the room too filthy to listen to. 
She turns her head slightly, her eyes looking up to his as she trembles, “Missed you…missed you inside me…”
Toji growls, "You don't need to miss anything, baby." He rolls his hips, pushing his length deeper into her warmth. "Just let me take care of you.”
She then whimpered softly, “…Feeling a little uncomfortable though, baby,” the position making her back begin to ache from the arch of it, an unfortunate case from her pregnancy. 
He obviously didn’t want to hurt her, taking the pillow and laying it horizontally, positioning her body to where she now lays on her side against the bed. He positions himself behind her as he holds one of her legs upwards, making sure the both of them are still reflected into the mirror.
His hand rubs over her stomach affectionately, positioning his tip between her folds from behind, his palm coming between her legs. He then lifts her outer leg, finding her clit and rubbing gently as he asks, “Feel good, baby? Need to stop?” All while peppering kisses against her neck. She grabs his hair from behind, moaning softly as she nods her head, “I’m okay…Keep going, please.”
He groans deeply as he thrusts into her, his hand reaching around to cup her breasts. He continues to move in and out of her, his thrusts deep and powerful, lips attaching to her ear, the feeling making her shiver. When his hand clasps back around for her throat,her eyes appear back open, seeing the sight in front of her. His broad frame captures from behind, holding her leg with one hand, clasping her throat with the other, eyes dark and hooded, grunting within her ear. She realizes just how much this man found her attractive, and it made her more horny. He loved her.
“Look at you,” he talks within her ear, holding her down as he snaps his hips, “So fuckin’ pretty, so fuckin’ needy for me. Missed you…so fuckin’ much baby…” he grunts out the last words, it slipping into a moan, Seioni turning her head, sticking her tongue out in a way of asking for a kiss.
He leans down, capturing her lips in a rough, passionate kiss. His free hand reaches up to grip her hair, pulling it slightly as he pushes his dick deeper inside of her.
When her eyes fall down to the bed, Toji grips her face, pointing her directly at the mirror as he says, “Fuckin’ gorgeous. Gonna have all my kids, my fuckin’ wife.” ” 
His voice makes something within her feel emotional. All of her insecurities melted into her brain, her eyes feeling like they were close to filling with tears as she moaned within his mouth, clutching his face in her hands as she whimpered, attempting not to allow herself to cry. 
“Don’t cry, baby. You’re too pretty for that,” he grunts, yanking her hips back, “Cry cause’ I’m fuckin’ you so good.” 
She whimpers again, “You’re just saying all that ‘cause you love me.”
He chuckles, "Maybe." He continues thrusting into her, his pace unrelenting. His hand leaves her hip, moving down to her clit where he begins rubbing circles around it. "But mostly 'cause you're driving me fuckin’ crazy," he growls, nipping at her earlobe.
She twists her head, raising her face to meet his mouth as she trembles, “L—Love you so much…”
“Only other times you’re sweet and shit,” he says against her ear, listening to the way she trembles out another gasp, “Is when you’re about to cum.”
He takes one hand as he places it along her shoulder, the other on her hip, eyes dropping down to watch the way her ass bounces onto his abdomen, leaving a collection of arousal each time he digs deeper into her.
 He groans, feeling his own orgasm approach rapidly. He lifts her off his dick momentarily, lining himself up before slamming into her harder.
It makes her gasp deeply, her legs quivering to where she tries to press her palm onto her thigh to stop the shaking, feeling a hand grab hers, holding it up to her throat and trapping it along his palm as he fucked her even harder. 
His lips are against her ear, heavily breathing, his own stomach forming butterflies. He tries to suppress the low moan that drops from his mouth as he talks, “All that creaming on my dick, need you to cum.” 
Her voice is gone, eyes flutter shut as she can’t stop hyperventilating, talking through her gasps, “Gonna’ cum, Daddy…”
He snarls, his grip on her wrist tightening. "Then fuckin’ cum on me, Mama," he orders, his thrusts becoming brutal, “Would give you another fuckin’ baby if I could. Pussy is…” he grunts, a sound she hadn’t expected coming from him, a whimper as his eyes tightly shut, “So fuckin’ good, baby. Fuck. I love you.”
That sound sends her over the edge. Her entire body halts as she goes quiet, hearing the sound of herself gushing out, orgasm taking over her entire frame as she hides her face within the sheet, sobbing as he continues slamming her ass down onto his hips. The hand still on her neck drags up to her jaw, forcing her eyes back to the mirror again. 
“Fuckin’ love looking at you…” he pants, “All mine. Gonna be all mine, can’t fuckin’…” he whimpers again, “Can’t wait, baby.” 
He then turns her head, swallowing her sobs as he thrusts harder, clutching her face as he moans into her mouth, it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. A warmth fills her, their breaths collected together as they pant heavily.
She could still feel Toji’s hand upon her face, dragging his thumb against her jaw, taking in the way she looked at the moment. Vulnerable—connected to him. 
“You’re gonna be an amazing mother, baby.” 
Her eyes come open as she hears that, blinking at his words. It felt meaningful to her, she couldn’t have asked for a better partner. She takes his hand as she kisses it, turning over as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
As they laid in each other’s embrace, the soft sounds of their breathing filling the air, Toji’s fingers danced along her body. He traced every curve and line, committing every inch of her to memory. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for her to be in his arms. The woman of his dreams was in front of him, in his arms, with their child growing in her womb. 
The moment wasn’t ruined— but felt to be cut short as it sounded like the door opening to the villa. They heard the voice of her brother call, “Aye! Scream if y’all in here fuckin’!”
They then heard the sound of a smack—Nova getting palmed in the back of his head by her mom— as she says, “Shut up! Just cause you can’t get none doesn’t mean they can’t!—but if y’all are in here having sex, have some decorum! There’s a baby in the house!”
Toji grins into Seion’s neck as he hears her mother smack her brother. He presses a gentle kiss into her throat as he chuckles, “There goes your loud ass family.”
“Unfortunately,” she sighs, accepting the kiss, “We should get dressed, I’m starving.” 
“When are you not hungry, Pac-Man?” 
“Oh?” she blinks, “That was a fat joke. I’m gone!”
She holds her belly as she begins coming off of the bed, Toji trying to hold back his laugh as she’s waddling around, searching for the dress she previously wore. 
“You’ laughing? This shit is funny?”
“Nope,” he raises his hands up, “You’ mad? Don’t love me no more? You were just calling me by my second na—“
“Fushiguro!” 
“Why are we going downstairs? We can always stay up here and discuss why I think this baby should be named Toji-Seioni-Megumi-Jr?” 
“I’m never speaking to you again.”
“That’s cool. We got time.”
Seioni groans as she continues waddling for the bathroom, throwing her middle finger up as he sarcastically blows a kiss at her. She was annoyed within the moment, but one thing she could agree to—they had time. An eternity of it.
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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago
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General Mills and cheaply bought "dietitians" co-opted the anti-diet movement
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Steve Bannon isn't wrong: for his brand of nihilistic politics to win, all he has to do is "flood the zone with shit," demoralizing people to the point where they no longer even try to learn the truth.
This is really just a more refined, more potent version of the tactical doubt sown by Big Tobacco about whether smoking caused cancer, a playbook later adopted by the fossil fuel industry to sell climate denial. You know Darrell Huff's 1954 classic How To Lie With Statistics? Huff was a Big Tobacco shill (his next book, which wasn't ever published, was How To Lie With Cancer Statistics). His mission wasn't to help you spot statistical malpractice – an actual thing that is an actual problem that you should actually learn to spot. It was to turn you into a nihilist who didn't believe anything could be known:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#harford
Corporations don't need you to believe that their products are beneficial or even non-harmful. They just need you to believe nothing. If you don't know what's true, then why not just do whatever feels good, man? #YOLO!
These bannonfloods of shit are a favored tactic of strongmen and dictators. Their grip on power doesn't depend on their citizens trusting them – it's enough that they trust no one:
http://jonathanstray.com/networked-propaganda-and-counter-propaganda
Bannonflooding is especially beloved of the food industry. Food is essential, monopolized, and incredibly complicated, and many of the most profitable strategies for growing, processing and preparing food are very bad for the people who eat that food. Rather than sacrificing profits, the food industry floods the zone with shit, making it impossible to know what's true, in hopes that we will just eat whatever they're serving:
https://journals.plos.org/plosbiology/article?id=10.1371/journal.pbio.2003460
Now, the "nothing can be known" gambit only works if it's really hard to get at the truth. So it helps that nutrition and diet are very complex subjects, but it helps even more that the nutrition and diet industry are a cesspool of quacks and junk science. This is a "scientific discipline" whose prestigious annual meetings are sponsored (and catered) by McDonald's:
https://www.motherjones.com/environment/2014/05/my-trip-mcdonalds-sponsored-nutritionist-convention/
It's a "science" whose most prominent pitchmen peddle quack nostrums and sue the critics who point out (correctly) that eating foods high in chlorophyll will not "oxygenate your blood" (hint, chlorophyll only makes oxygen in the presence of light, which is notably lacking in your colon):
https://www.badscience.net/2007/02/ms-gillian-mckeith-banned-from-calling-herself-a-doctor/
When the quack-heavy world of nutrition combines with the socially stigmatized world of weight-loss, you get a zone ripe for shitflooding. The majority of Americans are "overweight" (according to a definition that relies on the unscientific idea of BMI) and nearly half of Americans are "obese." These numbers have been climbing steadily since the 1970s, and every diet turns out to be basically bullshit:
https://headgum.com/factually-with-adam-conover/what-does-ozepmic-actually-do-with-dr-dhruv-khullar
Notwithstanding the new blockbuster post-Ozempic drugs, we're been through an unbroken 50-year run of more and more of us being fatter and fatter, even as fat stigma increased. Fat people are treated as weak-willed and fundamentally unhealthy, while the most prominent health-risks of being fat are roundly neglected: the mental health effects of being shamed, and the physical risks of having doctors ignore your health complaints, no matter how serious they sound, and blame them on your weight:
https://maintenancephase.buzzsprout.com/1411126/11968083-glorifying-obesity-and-other-myths-about-fat-people
Fat people and their allies have banded together to address these real, urgent harms. The "body acceptance" movement isn't merely about feeling good in your own skin: it's also about fighting discrimination, demanding medical care (beyond "lose some weight") and warning people away from getting on the diet treadmill, which can lead to dangerous eating disorders and permanent weight gain:
https://www.beacon.org/You-Just-Need-to-Lose-Weight-P1853.aspx
Fat stigma is real. The mental health risks of fat-shaming are real. Eating disorders are real. Discrimination against fat people is real. The fact that these things are real doesn't mean that the food industry can't flood the zone with shit, though. On the contrary: the urgency of these issues, combined with the poor regulation of dietitians, makes the "what should you eat" zone perfect for flooding with endless quantities of highly profitable shit.
Perhaps you've gotten some of this shit on you. Have you found yourself watching a video from a dietitian influencer like Cara Harbstreet, Colleen Christensen or Lauren Smith, promoting "health at any size" with hashtags like #DerailTheShame and #AntiDiet? These were paid campaigns sponsored by General Mills, Pepsi, and other multinational, multibillion-dollar corporations.
Writing for The Examination, Sasha Chavkin, Anjali Tsui, Caitlin Gilbert and Anahad O'Connor describe the way that some of the world's largest and most profitable corporations have hijacked a movement where fat people and their allies fight stigma and shame and used it to peddle the lie that their heavily processed, high-calorie food is good for you:
https://www.theexamination.org/articles/as-obesity-rises-big-food-and-dietitians-push-anti-diet-advice
It's a surreal tale. They describe a speech by Amy Cohn, General Mills’ senior manager for nutrition, to an audience at a dietitian's conference, where Cohn "denounced the media for 'pointing the finger at processed foods' and making consumers feel ashamed of their choices." This is some next-level nihilism: rather than railing against the harmful stigma against fat people, Cohn wants us to fight the stigma against Cocoa Puffs.
This message isn't confined to industry conferences. Dietitians with large Tiktok followings like Cara Harbstreet then carry the message out to the public. In Harbstreet's video promoting Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Cocoa Puffs and Trix, she says, "I will always advocate for fearlessly nourishing meals, including cereal…Because everyone deserves to enjoy food without judgment, especially kids":
https://www.tiktok.com/@streetsmart.rd/video/7298403730989436206
Dietitians, nutritionists and the food industry have always had an uncomfortably close relationship, but the industry's shitflooding kicked into high gear when the FDA proposed rules limiting which foods the industry can promote as "healthy." General Mills, Kelloggs and Post have threatened a First Amendment suit against such a regulation, arguing that they have a free speech right to describe manifestly unhealthy food as "healthy."
The anti-diet movement – again, a legitimate movement aimed at fighting the dangerous junk science behind dieting – has been co-opted by the food industry, who are paying dietitian influencers to say things like "all foods have value" while brandishing packages of Twix and Reese's. In their Examination article, the authors profile people who struggled with their weight, then, after encountering the food industry's paid disinformation, believed that "healthy at any size" meant that it would be unhealthy to avoid highly processed, high calorie food. These people gained large amounts of weight, and found their lives constrained and their health severely compromised.
I've been overweight all my life. I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting when I was 12. I come from a family of overweight people with the chronic illnesses often associated with being fat. This is a subject that's always on my mind. I even wrote a whole novel about the promise and peril of a weight-loss miracle:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781429969284/makers
I think the anti-diet movement, and its associated ideas like body acceptance and healthy at every size, are enormously positive developments and hugely important. It's because I value these ideas that I'm so disgusted with Big Food and its cynical decision to flood the zone with shit. It's also why I'm so furious with dietitians and nutritionists for failing to self-regulate and become a real profession, the kind that censures and denounces quacks and shills.
I have complicated feelings about Ozempic and its successors, but even if these prove to be effective and safe in the long term, and even if we rein in the rapacious pharma companies so that they no longer sell a $5 product for $1000, I would still want dietary science to clean up its act:
https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2816824
I'm not a nihilist. I think we can use science to discover truths – about ourselves and our world. I want to know those truths, and I think they can be known. The only people who benefit from convincing you that the truth is unknowable are the people who want to lie to you.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/05/corrupt-for-cocoa-puffs/#flood-the-zone-with-shit
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rafry · 3 months ago
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Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control
Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)
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The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!
For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:
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"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"
That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?
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"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."
If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:
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"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"
Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?
"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"
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I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.
There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.
It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).
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And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).
As for the details:
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He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.
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He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.
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He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.
So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.
That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.
Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?
I hope he does well on therapy.
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kiss-me-muchoo · 11 months ago
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𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬, 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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part one: stop, you’re losing me || part two: in the trees, in the breeze (here)
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ your memory kept haunting Coriolanus Snow, so he found the way to end his exile. It’s a new era, but the same old feelings between Coriolanus and you keep causing scandals. Although, you are not ready to let go the pain he caused to you.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ Capitol ballerina!reader, angst, drama, violence and death lol, jealousy, unhinged Coriolanus, sex mentions, reader still has health problems, etc. 13k words fic IM SORRY
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ hear this along Can’t catch me now, I’m not an OR fan but I love that song from her. I mean, who didn’t? And thank you for the wait and loveeeee. PLEASE TELL ME OF ANY ERRORS BC I CAN’T BE ALMOST ACCUSED OF BEING TRANSPHOBIC PLEASEEEE
♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
_____________________________________________
Red, blue, red, red, yellow, green, green, pink.
Every color is correctly marked. A nurse smiles with some papers on her hand before she dissapears.
You can get dressed again. The color test was done, your vision was okay.
Purple and green bruises are scattered across your skin. Some appeared on your inner thighs. Two on your knees and one on the ribs from the day you collapsed after the post-Hunger Games celebration. You sigh covering your skin with a long floral dress. The reflection of yourself on the mirror salutes you with a tired, broken and sad face. It makes you force a smile, pretending more people were watching you. The room in empty though.
“Everything is fine. Your body is responding well to the shots.” A doctor asks as soon as he walks in into the room.
“The only thing that worries me is your mental health. Have you been stressed or has anything happened to you that could be considered a traumatic experience?”
The pointe shoes soaked in blood. The unstoppable bleeding on your feet. The late nights with panic attacks and over thinking. That young blonde man and the songbird together. The night on dressing room, how your hand burned after slapping the man so hard. The shock of all the events surrounding your life two weeks ago. How you lost control, your head spinning, blurred vision, heart pounding, numb arms and how you felt the oxygen was leaving. All the things you did for someone who never deserved you, making you shatter, fainting as soon as you finished dancing.
“Miss y/l/n… Are you okay?” The distant voice of the doctor breaks your bubble. You shake your head in disguise before turning away from the mirror, facing him and smiling politely.
“Yes, I’m fine. I was very stressed, yeah. Working with the production of the Hunger Games. My artistic performances, last days at the Academy. It was a lot…” the doctor sighs, annotating something. He then handed you the paper.
“I’m giving you some treatment for that. And please, you have to be careful and calm. Only that way the medicine will help everything to work here” he points his head. You nod, accepting the paper.
After that, you leave the private hospital. Trevor is there, your chauffeur and friend. He smiles, opening the door for you.
“Thank you, Trevor” he starts the car soon after.
“Is everything okay?” You nod, looking at the bright day at the Capitol.
“I just need to relax and eat well.” Trevor had trimmed his hair. It made him look younger, making you smile at the memory of him saying his wife was his hairstylist.
“Good. Oh, I received a call from your mother. This woman…uh, Dr. Volumnia Gaul? She wants to see you at the Univeristy today” you frown to look at him confused.
“Oh? So… Can we go now?” He nods, turning left to start the route. Meanwhile, you wonder what could she want. You made your part, the games had a higher amount of viewers compared to last year. You engaged with the production and the celebration was at full capacity. Your little accident even made it more attractive to the media. Appearing on the papers and magazines across Panem.
And after everything, you still wanted to keep dancing. Or else range would consume you.
It’s the first time you step inside the Capitol’s University. It’s very similar to the Academy, but the floor tiles are green and white. There’s a lot of white, cream, golden and black decorating the halls and long stairs.
Since it’s summer, most of the building was empty. Only some of the staff, and very few people who seemed like students. You see they dress very elegant. Some women wore hats with feathers or flowers. The men wore classy suits and you genuinely thought you would fit in.
You couldn’t wait to have some sense of normality as a Univeristy student along Clemensia and Lysistrata. Your only close friends left. Well, also Festus and Sejanus. At the time, you didn’t event know your dear friend was dead.
What seems like the private office of Gaul has a red door. Inside, she had a laboratory, smaller but weirder than the one you had seen before. Full of dissected creatures, tanks and crystal containers with unknown chemicals.
Some steps further and you see her desk, where she is collecting some folders and putting them away in some shelves.
“Glad to see you breathing, miss y/l/n…” somehow you found the humor to smile coldly.
“As you can see.” You reply standing perfectly correct.
“By this point you should know what happened to Mr. Snow” goosebumps make you shake your shoulders slightly, you nod again.
“He was exiled. Twenty years. He lied to me and did not said a thing about cheating on the games”
“Indeed. However this morning, I just discovered he bribed a woman to be sent to District 12.” You bite your tongue to hide your fury. A hot feeling invade your chest in rage. But you just breathe, failing to not show discontent.
“That’s not any of my business anymore.” Even Gaul seems taken aback. However, she doesn’t say anything, she just keeps pulling away the pile of folders.
“Well, since it seems you both parted ways… I must share that I’m deleting any record or data related to the 10th Hunger Games. Too many things happened before, during and after the games. Things that would compromise the reputation of the whole organization. Including me, the Academy, the mentors, you and Mr. Snow” honestly, you don’t know what to say. You just frown slightly, demonstrating how confused you were. But you also understood with half of the context. The death of Arachne, Coriolanus and his odd ways to make his songbird oustand, the rebel attack, Lucy Gray Baird winning from cheat. And the things you didnt know like Sejanus entering the arena.
However, you stick to your parent’s advice. You have to think about you and anyone else.
“I understand. But I did my part. I completed my task so I hope this decision doesn’t jeopardize my grant” she smiles. Dr. Gaul secretly believed that you and Coriolanus Snow could rule Panem together. In a sick and evil way, so she really hoped her dark intentions would work.
“Of course not. We had a deal. The views went up this year. You brought a new vision for the promotion that I’ll hardly let go.” The ambition started tickling you. Making you roll your tongue inside your closed mouth, at the verge of opening it and talking.
“Good.”
“In fact, you would be a nice option to become head of the promotion and relations team.” From the last games, you realized the director only gave instructions but he rarely did the dirty job. You liked having some power over the games. And now, a childish and unjustified resentment towards District 12 made you smile as Gaul offered you a new job.
“Is it a possible option to be working in behalf of my mother’s institution?”
“You’re very smart, y/n y/l/n. You are going further than Mr. Snow” your smile only grows, knowing you are nit being correct. You are letting the rage and resentment to guide you. You will make your last name shine brighter than your parents did. Just to rub it in the face of certain blonde who was now exiled. Probably savoring the country life of District 12.
“I just want to make my family’s name bigger than it already is” the woman giggles, taking out a red envelope and handing it you.
“I assume you’ll pursue the arts as you’re speciality. But if you want to get involved with the production, marketing and relations. You are taking politics and some lessons with me” when you look down at the envelope, the golden logo of the university is greeting you. It’s the admission letter.
“I expect to see you here by the end of the summer” you nod, thanking her.
And as you walk outside where Trevor is waiting for you, you have a cocky smile. Feelings like things could go better. You don’t even remember the doctor’s appointment you were in before coming to see Gaul.
Your soft hands gently brush against his forehead. Coriolanus had chills, he hadn’t had fever since he was 15 years old. But your hands are so soft even when they feel cold as ice. He just knows he’s in his bed. In his rottening penthouse. He can see a slightly blurred image of you, wearing a green dress, your hair in a braid, a golden necklace, dark purple lips. He can’t hear your words, but you are talking to him, spreading some cream across his chest, immediately he felt the mint soothing his cough and pain. He must’ve said something funny, because he can now see clearly your face, gorgeous as always. And he can clearly hear you laughing.
Coriolanus wakes up smiling. And he realised he was dreaming.
He was in a small and creaky lower bunk bed. Sejanus sleeping in the upper bunk. The sun hasn’t come up. And he’s a peacekeeper in District 12.
It’s been weeks since he left the Capitol. And since day one, you seem to be haunting him.
Current dreams of you, swearing to be hearing your voice. It makes him want to call you every single day. But he doesn’t. He was able to forget about you when he was in the peacekeeper training and duties. When he was with Lucy Gray any trace of you was gone. But as soon as he had a moment alone, he would remember everyhting about you.
He missed you. Painfully a lot.
Every Friday, he had been sending the letters. He hoped your mother would hand them to you. But Coriolanus knew you too well to know you likely would not be reading them. Nonetheless, he was letting himself to write the most vulnerable pieces of him, putting his heart on each word and phrase. Hoping that by the time his exile was over, you would have forgiven him.
When the sun came up, he was up along the rest of the boys. Sejanus gives him a friendly smile and they’re out exercising and doing jobs all day long. During his break, he’s able to seat in an old bench, with a beautiful view of an open green field.
That’s when he dreams of seeing you there, dancing or simply standing there with a sundress. Like the ones you used to wear on summer when he visited the house your parents had in District 4. He dreams so hard that he swears seeing the skirt of your dress swaying through the trees. And that’s when he knows he’s so fucked up.
But that’s long forgotten after the break is over. And by the night, he’s on the biggest bar of the town. He sees Lucy Gray singing something new. He honestly never understood the meaning behind her songs, but he was enchanted by her do what she loved.
After her live presentation, a big projector was introduced. They started playing the weather with Lucky Flickerman. Which made Coriolanus miss the Capitol so bad.
“They’re probably waiting for some women. That’s why the always start that thing” Lucy Gray said, appearing by his side and pointing at the projector. He smiled at her.
“To see women?” She nodded, grabbing a glass of cold water.
“You know how are men around here” with no tv around, no ostentatious lifestyles, men could get excited with little makeup and satin gowns. Coriolanus was disgusted by many mannerism of the 12. He had heard and seen many disapproving behaviors. But he was happy to be able to find some peace along the songbird.
“Yes, I know. What’s that thing by the way?” When Coriolanus turned around to see the old projector, he almost choked after seeing the big logo appearing.
It was the summer fundraising charity of your mother. Another luxurious gala to help the constructions of the Capitol after war. However, that wasnt the most impressive part for Coriolanus. Seconds after the recovered from seeing something directly related to his past, you appeared in the projector, entering the stage and getting in pose to start a performance.
Lucy Gray Baird was in shock. So if she was surprised, the men all around the bar where cheering and whistling.
There you were, with curled wet hair, metallic bronze makeup, wine lips, golden bracelets on your arms. But it was the attire. A two piece set that let your legs and stomach show off. With bare feet, and two elegant knives, one in each hand. Your cocky smile was back. And it was ruining Coriolanus Snow.
He literally jumped from his seat, leaving Lucy Gray to cross the river of men and properly see you.
She knew you had broken up with him. And that relieved the songbird, as she felt like she could let her feelings for Coriolanus flow freely. But seeing the boy literally hipnotized as soon he saw you, it made her feel uneasy. Deeply she knew that Coriolanus wasn’t over you. And no matter what, you were a sensible subject for him. That not even herself could ever test.
But he kept going. Each step meant hearing them say how good you looked, the places where they’d put their hands on your body. It boiled his blood.
But finally, the dance killed him. Because maybe for the capitol you were still elegant and classy. Their eyes would publicly appreciate your art, and privately let their mind wander with your half naked body. But for people from the 12. It was like throwing a piece of meat to lions in starvation.
With your hips swaying tentatively, pointed feet and letting everyone know how flexible you were. That sassy look on your face that Coriolanus was feeling too personal. It was like you were saying “look what you lost”.
He was used to see you in pastel tutus, hair in a bun. Not this goddess ritual dance type of thing. The music was very different, something very uncommon in Panem. He really wants to punch every man in the room. He sees how most of the women in the bar see your graceful image with disgust. And Coriolanus couldn’t blame them. But it made him remember that he had lost the right to call you his. And that intrusive thought made him automatically think he wanted to go back home so badly.
Your sensual and meticulous steps keep going, the knives making him remember the folk tales of women dancing with sharp objects to show fertility, honor of their kingdom and to seal a man’s faith. Every minute more desperate for Snow, who’s over the edge of hearing men say plenty of things about you. But soon, the music stops with you arched, pointed feet, your curls kissing the stage, the knives perfectly pointing like a clock.
Coriolanus doesnt miss your evil smile. He can sense you are changing. And he remember all the pain he caused you, making him sigh in resignation. His desire of going back for you only growing.
“I’m sorry I left like that” he explains to Lucy Gray. She notices how quick he drank his beer. She was a woman after all, she knew the effect a fine female could have on men. Especially on the man who was their lover. The one that probably hurt her and left her, ending their history in bad terms.
“It’s okay. I told you she was very pretty before” Coriolanus learns that Lucy Gray was not being sarcastic that day at the zoo.
It had come to the point where he couldn’t run away from his thoughts. Coriolanus was borderline obsessed with your memory. He constantly wondered how you were doing. He had to ask Tigris every time they talked to see learn anything about you.
For the first time, since he left the Capitol, Tigris shares that she had talked to you.
Coriolanus was surprised to hear that the reason you gave about the breakup was only because he cheated with Lucy Gray.
You didn’t said a word about him the lies, the last argument you two had. You only say that his songbird was special. And that you stopped to be what he needed.
Which was heavily mistaken. Some days before he accepted that you were the only thing he needed to keep going. He imagines a fake scenario where you came to the 12 with him. You find a humble home where you wait till his training is over. The lake where he spent hours with Lucy Gray and The Covey could’ve been hours with you. Talking about anything and everything. He would’ve come straight home to you when the training was over. Make love to you, promise to fight for a higher position, possibly as a commander one day and marrying you. And soon the years would’ve passed, his exile would be over and you would go back to the Capitol with him. Maybe some children along.
But that would never happen. And his delusion was starting to make him find a way to go back where he belonged.
He questioned if his urges where for power, or to get back with the woman he loved.
Whatever the reason was, a lot of people would pay the price. First were the daughter of the mayor and her partner, then the man who had the decency to hide the gun he used to kill those two. Who also happened to be his alleged best friend.
His hands trembling as he pressed to record Sejanus. But he knew there were high possibilities of being heard. And that way, he would go back. He would find you and slowly start again.
The death of Sejanus would haunt him for a long time. He knew he was a close friend of yours, which made him get chills, uneasy to decide what could be your reaction to the news. Either way, it was done. The heavens had to have heard him. He was offered to serve in District 2, gain some money and he could easily take the train to see you if anything.
But Lucy Gray had other plans. And Coriolanus wasnt even sure of what he was doing. Probably in his rambling and panic after everything he went through as a peacekeeper, one side of him wanted to run away and never see back again. To forget about his decisions as a mentor, to forget about his decisions as a peacekeeper and to forget about you. That way he would never have to face all the pain he caused you.
After some hours of walking, Coriolanus should have seen the signs.
“Everyone in the Covey are really good dancers. But I don’t think it’s my thing. I just have my voice…” Lucy Gray said, holding her bag tightly. Coriolanus only smiled, remembering how bad the songbird was when he tried to teach her how to waltz.
“Is it like… exclusive in the Capitol?”
“I think so. Today there’s only one institution, the mother of…” he goes quiet, realizing what he was about to say.
“…y/n?” She asked, almost nervous about mentioning your name. But in reality, she wasnt. After Coriolanus nodded, they just kept walking in silence.
“Her mother founded it?”
“It was her grandmother actually. Mine knew her, and they were kind of friends” he said smiling, trying to look away from Lucy Gray so he couldn’t see him smiling.
Once you leaned Coriolanus was financially struggling some years ago, you ended up visiting him for the first time. That day you learned Grandma’am was friend of your family before your mother was born. And that only made her appreciate you faster. Which made Coriolanus happy. Finally seeing her grandmother to let go the days of the war and any crazy ideas that stayed on her mind. All thanks to you.
“Grandma’am even started planting pink roses for her.” It slipped out automatically, he couldn’t control it.
“She’s like ink…” Coriolanus missed the point. But after some minutes of silence, he understood what Lucy Gray said. Which resulted true. Metaphorically, you were the brightest tint he’d ever seen. He let that ink fall and splash everywhere, leaving stains on him that probably would never leave.
And finally, Lucy Gray Baird fell to her end in the shallow woods. Hunted like a prey. By a broken man who decided to stop being good. Who was losing his mind for the pieces of a woman he let go so easily.
That changes like the destination of Coriolanus.
He’s going back to the Capitol. With tiny sparks of hope. But firmly believing that everyhting was meant to happen like that so he could go back to you.
However, as he came closer, Coriolanus realized he was lost. He had no idea what would await for him. And what version of you would greet him.
There isn’t an exact period over the Capitol that can’t be considered as autumn. The summer was practically over, and winter was already happening. Coriolanus had to wait longer than expected to get into University. In the meantime, he accepted the money from the Plinth family. He decided to get ahead of time. He used the last hot days to get Tigris and Grandma’am back to the penthouse. He bought the whole building and in two weeks the whole place was renewed. There was only one thing he couldn’t get rid of. The living room and entrance olive paint you brought. He painted the halls, dining room, studio and kitchen in a dark blue paint. But he wasnt able to get rid of the memories he made with you. His old self was long gone. But he had his supcisions that the version he was for you would never change.
However, he decided to stay afar from the public eye for that month after returning from exile.
Tigris said she hadn’t seen you. But that was okay. He would soon enter to University. He was going to see you there.
Eventually the day came. He gets rid off Casca Highbottom and then he walks towards the big and imposing University of the Capitol. He had a driver now, but he thought it wouldn’t be bad to use the mornings to walk.
In his first hours inside, he has private lessons with Dr. Gaul. Already mentoring him to be a game maker. She kind of suspects he was involved with the sudden death of Highbottom. But for some reason, Gaul has a lot of hopes in him, so she would easily act blind to keep her plans to keep going.
After that, Coriolanus starts looking out for you. He crosses the big seminar rooms and other halls. Until he is able to locate the arts building. It’s smaller but probably the most interesting. With a beautiful barroque facade. As soon as he enters, he sees a group of girls holding large canvas with beautiful paintings on them. Then, some steps later he spots two guys trying to carry a sculpture. Coriolanus believes that kind of modern art was the future of the Capitol. He had to admit the arts building was fully alive, he even forgot he was still at the university.
Coming down from some stairs, he sees two girls. A red haired and a tanned with black leotards and floral skirts are giggling. They seems like dancers, he doesnt think twice. He’s already approaching the girls.
“Excuse me, ladies. Do you know by any chance where I can find y/n y/l/n?” The girls look cheekily at each other, before smiling at him. Which makes Coriolanus wonder what type of rumours had been flowing around about you and him. Since mostly everyone knew the last Snow heir was dating the daughter of the kings of Panem´s television industry.
“She’s rehearsing a class for new students. It’s on the second floor, you’ll hear the music…” he thanks the tanned girl before going upstairs.
She wasn’t lying. He started hearing the classical piano music. He can hear some distant and low cheering. The whole floor is full of dancers. It’s a long hall, to the right, a big studio, with a classical mural, chandeliers and the most giant mirror he’d ever seen.
The people outside the studio see him with curiosity. But he only has eyes for the ballerina dancing all across the studio.
There you are, with a coral tutu, baby pink leotard and thighs. Your pointe shoes seem new. Your cheeks look so pink and your smile is there.
He has to understand that you have become popular enough to have your own fans. Some rumors said that your mother was offering master classes at the University. And he couldn’t help but think how much your family’s name have growth since he left.
He lost count of many turns you did, but you finish cleanly, offering a beautiful view of your tutu wadding. He can’t stop smiling.
People start a round of applauses. He debates whether to get closer or not. He doesnt have any speech prepared. He doesn’t know what to say to you.
“Coriolanus?” When he turns around, he sees Clemensia Dovecote there. Her old study buddy looked older, but not in a bad way. He saw the scales on her skin. But he didnt had to ask, he knew it was because of the rainbow snakes. It just seemed weird to see her short sleeves but turtleneck, rather than her trying to cover all of her face.
“Clemensia” he greets her. Clemmie was probably your female best friend. It wasnt a surprise that suddenly the woman seemed to dislike him.
“Since when you returned?” He looks back at you again. As the music keeps playing, he just smiles. He know the way things would now work. With no how are you questions or anything like the past.
“Some weeks ago.” Clemensia looks like she’s analyzing every movement and word of him.
“Why are you here?” Her hostile tone only makes Coriolanus to act more relaxed than he already is.
“I made the promise to come back for y/n…” the woman stares at him, probably taken aback.
“She doesn’t need this, Coriolanus. She can’t have this” Clemensia had visited you at the hospital. She learned most of his lies towards you. She knew you didn’t deserved to fall again. And especially not because of him.
“I know, Clemmie. I won’t be a burden for her” the music stops, and Coriolanus decides that it’s not time to talk to you yet. So he smiles once again to Clemensia.
“I hope so. Because you already failed her once…” his smile drops. Clemensia dissapears to get inside the studio. Coriolanus stares at you one last time, before he silently walks out.
Before you can reach your glass of posca, a porcelain plate with your food slides on the way. A soft piece pile of fried little steaks, with melted cheese and a golden sauce of mushrooms dripping. Your stomach churns and it makes Clemensia laugh.
She had a salmon fine cut with caviar and other exotic stuff. It was a beautiful afternoon to have dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants of the Capitol Downtown.
“Bless your food.”
“Bless your food” you reply back to her.
“So, How it went the rehearsal?” You roll your eyes giggling.
“It was great, until the girls taking the masterclass appeared to see me” your father was right. After working in the production of the 10th Hunger Games, many doors opened for you. Splendid career opportunities here and there. Only that you didn’t enjoy a lot of attention.
“Are they still at the Academy” you nod.
“Rich girls who can make their parents pay the classes of course” Clemensia smiles, drinking a little bit before getting back to eat.
“Coriolanus was looking for you…” you literally stopped eating. You almost drop your fork, but you decided to hold it firmly.
“What?”
“Apparently he’s back.” She reveals. Making you close your eyes in panic.
“How? He was exiled” you say whispering. Clemmie shrugs.
“Gaul. He’s her pupil star. And with Dean Highbottom dead now…” it must’ve been great for Coriolanus to learn the man was gone. Always putting him in the lowest, it was a mark for change.
“Doesn’t matter, I won’t let this get into my way” she smiles.
“What about what your father said?” During a late lunch, you had been talking with your parents, revealing that you broke up with Coriolanus because he cheated. Your mother was shocked, but soon she joined your father to give a twisted advice. He asked if you still loved him. You answered you weren’t sure.
Then I suggest you to proceed to ignore him. Soon you’ll learn his intentions if he ever comes back. Play with him a little. Show him that nobody will laugh in the face of family like ours. Let your hands get dirty, but never show this insecurity you’re talking about.
From that day, you still wake up every morning without knowing how you actually feel about Coriolanus Snow. You know you can’t just simply forget about all the things you did with him. But you firmly pretended that he was in the past.
“I still don’t know how I feel about him.”
“Are you still in contact with his family?” You remember Tigris and Grandma’am.
“Not as much as I used to”
“Mhm. Did they ever learned what happened?” You sigh.
“Just that he opted to choose the songbird before me. And I know Tigris has her own opinion. I just never gave her the opportunity to share it.”
“With him back… probably you’ll find out sooner than later” Clemensia admits, leaving you thinking for the rest of the dinner.
Turns out that you are not ready to find out yet.
The first time you see him, it’s at the gardens of the University. You had lunch and wanted to have a brief walk. Through a maze of flowers and plants, you spot him on a bench. He’s very concentrated reading a book. Your eyes widen, seeing how much different he looked. The posture, the clothes, the hair, the cold look.
Something notoriously changed. And you have your suspicions. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sejanus was gone, and Lucy Gray Baird had dissapeared.
You mourned the death of Sejanus one week. You send your condolences to his parents at the funeral. And that night you can’t help but cry on your pillow. Wondering why had life slowly turned dark. In a matter of months you had experienced things you never thought you would. You lost people, you had your first heart broken. You had lost the will to do much things. But, you had to keep going. And you felt guilty, because you thought you had no right to feel like your life was hard, just for being Capitol. The districts struggled more. However, it’s not on your power to mend their lives. Just as it’s not their case to judge your life.
And now, seeing Coriolanus so firm, so calm, it makes you doubt. Sensing that there must’ve been something off about him. Something bad, like all the things he did and hid from you.
You pretend you’re looking for some papers in your bag when you walk past him. He doesn’t see you though, and you thank it.
A couple of days later, you hear for the first time the rumours about him courting Livia Cardew. It makes you feel depressed. You cry out of anger as soon as you get home.
And to your dismay, the first thing you see after turning into a room for the politics class, it’s them. Coriolanus Snow is talking to Livia just beside the door.
That’s the first time you two look at each other again. He sees the anger, discontent and so much resentment. You see the questioning, curiosity and admiration in his eyes.
Nothing else is said because you break the gazes, you walk inside the room with your head high, and your presence is so evident that even Livia has to look at you. Taking too much time to see your beautiful heels.
A week later, you are having a good time with your friends. Festus and Lysistrata are there with you and Clemensia. You are talking all about the upcoming winter gala held at the biggest auditorium in the Capitol. Everyone is excited because it’s the great opportunity to make contacts and eat the most delicious food.
“Is your mother inviting Coriolanus?” Lysistrata asks with curiosity. You roll your eyes at the subject.
“I hope not. I haven’t even spoken with him ever since he came back” everyone knew you had broke up with him. But only Clemensia knew the details.
“Well, apparently he is courting Livia now” Festus mocks, making everyone laugh. Not that any of you had something personal against Livia. But she wasn’t the most brilliant star at the Academy. Now not certainly at University.
“Why Livia?” Clemmie asks laughing.
“Perhaps it’s becase how naïve she is”
“Or because of her father’s inheritance” you add.
“I don’t think so. He’s now the heir of the Plinth fortune” Festus remarks with dessaproval, which makes you feel angered.
“He’s dancing on Sejanus’ grave” your words create some minutes of silence for your late friend. Even when Festus and Lysistrata had made fun of him for being District and the ways of his parents to go up, at the end, they were friends. And now his absence had created a void.
“Ambitious and annoying. Just like his father…” Lysistrata comments sipping on her glass of water.
“How unfortunate. If he had stayed with you, we wouldn’t be talking bad things about him behind his back” you sigh at Clemensia’s words.
“Speaking of the king…” when you look past Lysistrata seated on her chair, you spot Coriolanus. He was wearing a dark grey suit, he looked so fine you had to admit. But soon you look away, the sudden memories of your last days with him haunt you.
After spotting his old friends and ex lover in a table at the cafeteria, he start walking towards there. Trying to make his first moves to go back to normality.
“Yeah. He would’ve been seated beside me right now. But he consciously choose the songbird before me. At least he’s refining himself a little bit with Livia” your friends turn to look at you in shock after the revelation, Clemmie only rises her brows as she sips her water silently, hiding her smile. By the time Coriolanus arrives the table, you’re gone and he curses himself for not walking faster. Festus and Lysistrata are shocked, making him furrow his brows in confusion.
“Did I missed something?” He asks.
“You had an affair with your tribute?” Lysistrata asks back in disgust. Coriolanus sees Clemensia giggling in silence with her head down. Probably enjoying his embarrassment.
His silence meets the requirement for an answer. One that they take as yes.
“And now y/n knows about you and Livia” Coriolanus frowns ever deeper after looking at Clemensia.
“There’s no Livia and I” He responds firmly. Even disgusted to her his name along the least smart girl of his finances class.
“Oh but everyone believes so. That you’re courting her…” he rolls his eyes, annoyed.
“I’m just talking to her because we’re partners for some stupid research paper” the silent sipping on their drinks at the same time is ridiculous to Coriolanus. He just stares at them annoyed.
“Do me a favor and leave her alone, Coriolanus. You were gone to go to your nobody girl from 12, but I stayed and saw her struggling in that hospital bed” Clemensia speaks confidently. Making the blonde to feel threatened.
So he realises that maybe you could have feelings for him still. And that this rumors could have weight on you. He curses himself. Even without realizing, he’s still hurting you.
“I won’t lose the girl twice, Clemmie. Have a good day” he says with a fake smile before leaving the table in shock.
He had to quicken the pace of his proximity with you. He had to make you see he never stopped caring for you.
There’s a shattering mess of broken glasses. You quickly move away from the crime scene, looking for your pills, immediately swallowing two.
Your mother’s assistant opens the door, asking for you with concern.
“Is everything okay, miss y/n?” You turn to look a the woman.
“I accidentally threw the jar. Sorry…” Millie is in her mid thirties. She was your mother’s confidant, and slowly yours too. She sees the news paper in the floor, half of it drenched from the broken jar that had water. She can see the title, The Snow heir tights the knot with the Cardew family?
“I’ll call the maids. Don’t worry” she says looking back at you.
“Thanks Millie.” She smiles, closing the door behind.
You breathe loudly, sighing in stress. Of course you had purposely thrown the water jar because of the news paper. A portrait picture of Livia is placed perfectly aligned with one of Coriolanus. Between some paragraph there’s your name too. But you don’t dare to see why.
You may pretend to be okay to the public eye, but you’re still drowning in the same feelings you got after Coriolanus Snow revealed his lies to you.
It’s almost like if he was still mocking you. Showing everyone how easy he had played with you. And how easy he got rid of you.
Someone had to pay. No, not someone, he. He, himself, Coriolanus Snow had to fail. Only that way you would feel slightly better. Only that way your tears would stop being for him.
The first chance you had, you would take it.
While you loved pursuing a dancing career along the production stuff. You still had some duties regarding politics and economy. Which is why you ended up at the submissions office so early in the morning. To send a petition.
You end up at at a messy office. A man is there, moving folders and other type of papers. There’s three baskets that can clearly be read as; approved, denied, pending.
However, you quickly look away to smile at the man who’s sitting behind the chair.
“Good morning.” Your smile is contagious to everyone. The man replies with a warm greeting.
“Good morning, miss y//l/n. How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if you could hand me a petition form to send” he nods, standing up, leaving the mess of papers behind.
“I can, just let me go and print the form. It won’t take too long…” you smile again, letting him go outside the office.
As you wait, you start seeing the racks of boxes and more boxes filled with yellow and lined papers.
Your curiosity grows, making you look at the baskets on the desk.
You see at first glance some graduation petitions, letters, etc. You are still curious to see why some papers where pending. So you look at the door one last time before diving into the papers. You don’t know the first students mentioned. Until you see the third yellow folder, where you can see a white strip with black letter saying Coriolanus Snow.
You open the folder, seeing what it was all about. A petition to start a political campaign at the age of 19. You frowned. He was good at writing. Even with letters he had some charm. But you know he never beated you to be precise and delicate. You always heard Grandma’am saying he would one day be president. But you never seriously discussed it with him. Now you know it was real. And you can’t help but feel an enormous amount of remorse.
He doesn’t deserve it. He had lost everything once, but the way he was earning everything was through breaking you, and probably others you’ll never knew about. Even when it would make Tigris and Grandma’am happy, you slip the folder into the basket of denied. You don’t feel nothing as you do it.
In fact, you offer the sweet man a smile when he comes back with the form for you. You thank him and then walk out.
Coriolanus swears he didn’t intend to bump into your father at the bank. Your father was a frivolous man, but since he knew him, he greeted Coriolanus with respect.
The blonde was taken aback when he invited him to have dinner at your house. And he couldn’t say no.
Your house is the same. At least from the outside, because inside, there’s more color. Coriolanus sees your mother. And she offers him a smile before he leans to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Coriolanus, look at you. You look very handsome!” His cheeks warm, as your father giggles, handing his coat to a maid.
“I ran into him at the bank. Where’s y/n, dear?” Your mother laughs, rolling her eyes.
“That girl. I haven’t seen her out of her room since midday” the sudden sound of your heels gets noticed.
“I’m here” you say, coming down the stairs, putting some earrings on. Coriolanus notices the grey dress and black heels along the red tights. A diadem on your head and a bright smile that soon dissapears as you spot him in your house.
“Look who I found earlier” you sigh, standing straight.
“I see…” Your parents can see the way you correct your posture, showing how uncomfortable you are.
“We’re having dinner…” you ignore Coriolanus and his deep gaze on you.
“I can’t stay for dinner. I have rehearsals and I promised Clemmie to go to her birthday dinner party” they exchange looks. And Coriolanus is at the verge of smiling at the way you are making up an excuse to leave. Running away from him.
“Are you meeting with Jan before?” Coriolanus head almost pops to look at your father. And you don’t know if you should smile. Jan was your dance partner, he would dance with you at the gala. He was older, very handsome. And you wished he wasn’t off limits from you. Because you easily could admit your attraction towards him.
“Can you at least stay for some drinks?” You shrug at your mother, accepting your purse from a maid. You ignore Coriolanus and his way of looking at you, almost petrified.
His head was spinning, he needed to know who the hell was Jan.
“Unless you want me to do horrible at the Winter Gala, no. I cannot stay, mother” she sighs, tilting her head towards your father. He understands, your father was the one who convinced you to ignore Coriolanus and play with him.
“Well, that’s fine. Just be polite and say goodbye to Coriolanus.” You nod, watching them leave inside the long corridor to enter the dinning table.
You remain quiet, looking down at your purse to avoid his eyes.
“You look lovely” he says, breaking the ice.
“Thank you.”
It’s the first time you two talk since months ago.
“I heard you want to start your political campaign” you opt to pretend you are okay and you can face him with confidence.
“I did. But the idiots of the council rejected my essay. Guess it’ll give me more time to focus on university.” You nod, grabbing a pair of gloves from inside the purse. You want to smile so badly. He would never know you were the reason of his failed first steps in the politic of Panem.
“Anyways… How you’ve been?”
“I’m fine, Coriolanus.” the way you sound tired. Like tired of him makes him uncomfortable. But he tries to keep his best smile too.
“Who is Jan?” He asks almost too seriously. You smile politely at him
“No one of your business, Snow” you calling him by his last name takes him very aback.
“You know, I just hoped that… you know. Maybe we could start off again… like friends of course” you giggle, lowering your head. He frowns confused.
“Miss y/n, Trevor is waiting in the car for you” the butler say appearing from the side door, you thank him and he leaves again.
“I don’t think there’s a way to start again. You already failed me once, Coriolanus.” You admit, putting on the gloves with a bittersweet smile on your face. You turn to pat his cheek, and he swears he’s about to melt. He lounged for your touch since the moment he left you at the hospital. He closes his eyes, hoping to slow down time and felt your cold touch.
But you move away your hand. He opens his eyes and sees you putting the last pair of the gloves on. You walk towards the door.
“You know where the dinning table room is.” And with that, you are gone.
Your father gave him the green light to court you again. Coriolanus had to swear that he would never cause you any type of pain, or else, your father would destroy his career before it officially started.
That was more than enough for him. Since that day, slowly, he had been greeting you almost every day, at Univeristy and when you ecountered him and Tigris in a furniture store. You personally invited her to the Winter gala, and Tigris agreed to not share the news about the invitation. But to the young Snow woman, it was a surprise that your father had already invited Coriolanus to the gala.
Soon the day came. As usual the gala opened with the performance of an specific play, than everyone celebrated in the hall with fine dining, and everyone gossiped as auctions happened. It had been a couple of weeks, very busy ones. Probably it was even more important than the arts gala on March. But for this special occasion you had rehearsed a lot to be an elegant black swan.
You smile at your own reflection at the mirror, the black tutu was gorgeous. The crown you had to use was very intriguing. And the black makeup made you feel very confident.
“I came as soon as I could” Clemensia suddenly opens the door of your dressing room. She looks agitated, but she looked amazing on a beige dress and her hair in half ponytail.
“You look very pretty” she thanks you.
“But look at you. You are going to be amazing.” She sits and both start gossiping.
“Your father invited Coriolanus.” It makes you roll your eyes tired. But you are having a heartache.
“I’m… not sure if I don’t feel anything about him” Clemmie leaves her glass of champagne.
“The newspaper rumour affected you. Right?” Slowly, you nod. Too embarrassed to look at her in the eye. But Coriolanus had been really good. He smiled at you at any chance he could. Some days he would join you and your friends and he was fun, you had to bite your tongue to avoid giggling. And Clemensia had seen it too.
“I can’t blame you. I was there since the beginning…” your friend had seen the courting, the first awkward hand holding, how you two formed a strong connection. And Coriolanus left you at the hospital.
“You two had a beautiful bond. And he broke it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t miss him” Clemmie goes to hug you.
“Pa’ said to keep playing with him, to ignore him. But I’m tired, I just want to heal” she nods, letting you hide your face on her shoulder.
“You want my advice?” You nod.
“Do not force anything. Be polite to him, but avoid giving him any chance yet. As you heal, you’ll find the answer; if you should let him have another chance or not”
A man knocks. When Clemensia opens the door, he receives a bouquet of white roses.
You could recognize those roses anywhere. You get closer, taking the attached note.
Grandma’am and Tigris didn’t know what flowers to cut.
Good luck.
You try to hide your smile. But it’s impossible.
The whole place is full. Coriolanus takes a seat with Tigris besides.
“I talked with her yesterday. She said she was very nervous about this one” Tigris says. Coriolanus knows she’s talking about you.
“She’s always perfect, she shouldn’t feel nervous.” His mind was only thinking about Jan. He did his research. And learned he was a former dancer of your mother’s institution. It made him mad.
“Have you thought about inviting her to have dinner?” Coriolanus shakes his head.
“Not yet, I haven’t talked enough to her”
“Well, hurry up. Grandma’am wanted to see you married by the age of 20” she says laughing. But it doesn’t make Coriolanus smile.
“Oh look, it’s starting” Tigris squealed with excitement. The curtains lifted and the show started.
For the first twenty minutes, he’s so bored. Nothing exciting happens. He thinks the white swan is boring. And for the first time, he meets Jan. It makes him feel jealous.
It only worsened when you appeared on stage. Your black attire makes him go mad. He had never seen you in anything like that. He gets very invested in your scenes. He feels the emotion you are trying to project. Sassy, cheeky and attractive. You succeed to him.
Unfortunely, Jan had to appear too. And Coriolanus has to sigh, dealing with the scene of the man holding you to make you gracefully spin. The music doesn’t help, it holds the sense of you and Jan dancing together. Coriolanus knows dancing has a lot to do with acting. But he doesn’t enjoy the looks of lust and desire between you and your partner. The worst part? He had to seat and watch it for at least fifteen minutes.
His head malfunctions. But he already is telling Tigris he needs to the restroom.
It’s a lie. He goes to the dressing rooms. And his luck was so big that he found the one with the name of Jan. He slowly made his way inside. The place was so old that he didn’t need to check for security or anything, but he wanted to make sure nobody would see him in real time.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish, but surely he wanted to get rid of the man who apparently had your attention now. Your mother had said you and Jan worked very well. And now, with him seeing the performance, he was more than sure he couldn’t let it move forward.
His hand went to his pocket, and his eyes widened. He felt the little glass tubes of narcotics. The same he used to kill Casca Highbottom.
He thought about it just for a little. Was it worth it? Getting rid of a man just to have easier access to you.
Maybe.
Then he questioned how bad he wanted you back. Coriolanus had missed you since day one. He knew he would never love anyone else. He knew no one would treat him as you once did.
So he poured the liquid from one of the tubes inside the water flask resting on the vanity. And before leaving, Coriolanus slipped two more tubes inside the bag that contained Jan’s clothes.
“You took very long at the restroom” Tigris tells her cousin when he came back.
“There was a long line”
This time, is different. You smile and you can hear the big round of applauses as you make reverence to go off from stage. You were the last one and the curtains came down finally.
Once you are free, you have all the time in the world to breathe. Other dancers and production staff members congratulate you. But it’s Coriolanus Snow the one who makes you frown confused. He was backstage, looking at you with a soft smile. His classic black suit makes you go back and remember about the Reaping ceremony. How happy that day initiated, and how bad it turned out.
“Coriolanus.” You greet him, he can see a tiny smile on your face.
“You were amazing. As usual, of course”
“Thank you. And for the flowers, they were gorgeous. As usual, of course” he’s so surprised that you were talking to him with some humor sense. Both of you laugh and it feels… warm, and natural.
“It’s nothing. But.. perhaps we could just sit together at dinner?” Your cheeks warmth. You think about your confusing feelings, what your father and Clemensia respectively said. Sitting with him once wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“Yeah, we could.” He smiles, and even when his hair changed, his deeper voice. For some seconds you can see the boy you once loved.
And he almost feels like he was seventeen again. Watching you dance backstage, ready to greet you with a kiss. He sees the girl who helped him so much. And he just know all the horrible things he’d done were worth it.
“I-…” but his words stay lingering in the air. Both of you hear a female scream. Coriolanus and you exchange looks before starting to walk where the sound was heard. In the corridor of the dressing rooms you see a woman lingering to an open door. Immediately you recognize it’s Jan’s room. You quickly make it there, through the pain of your caged foot inside the pointe shoe. Coriolanus goes behind you, already sensing the scene inside.
He hears you gasp in shock, covering your mouth and tears forming on your eyes.
You are in shock, you sob, unable to blink.
Jan is on the floor, pale and blood on his mouth. He’s dead.
And as much as the scene shocks you, you are trained to entertain the Capitol, so you turn to them random woman.
“Go and find Millie. Tell her about this and do keep your mouth shut. Nobody can know beside my parents. Understood?” You indicate the woman with a broken voice. She nods in horror dissapearing through the corridor. When she leaves you can finally cry.
When you don’t know what else to do, you are holding onto Coriolanus Snow. You find comfort on his chest. And he immediately holds you back.
As much as you hate to admit it, you feel you are home in his arms.
With one hand, he closes the door of the dressing room and returns to completely be there to hug you. He smiles, knowing he’s already slowly winning.
Because when your parents find out what happened, they make you put a cute black and green velvet gown with crystals. They make you pretend nothing happened and you sit with Coriolanus and Tigris. Ignoring the upcoming rumors, and certainly not respecting the sudden death of Jan.
Two days later, Coriolanus finds you seating on a bench. You are eating a sandwich, looking lost. He takes a seat beside you.
“I’m sorry about Jan. It happened so suddenly” he doesn’t feel sorry. Opposite of what he felt about Sejanus and Lucy Gray. However, he firmly believes it was the only way.
“He was a wonderful man. A devoted dancer, with principales. He had a wife in District 3.” Coriolanus coughs. He wasn’t expecting that. That little detail wasn’t on his research. Something twisted inside him, but he still didn’t regret or felt sorry.
“He didn’t seem the type to use narcotics…he must’ve been very stressed out” you add. Oblivious that you are talking with Jan’s murderer.
“Are you sure you are okay?” You roll your eyes sighing.
“No. I’m not okay, Coriolanus. Not since that cursed Reaping ceremony day”
“I’m just trying to be here for you” he admits, and it’s your breaking point.
“WHY DO YOU CARE NOW? YOU FAILED ME WHEN I MOST NEEDED YOU!” He looks around to see if anyone was around. But the place is empty.
“I know I committed many errors but-“
“BUT NOTHING, CORIOLANUS.” You spit out with such anger, that makes him frown.
“You violated the trust, loyalty, respect and love we had for each other. You dissapear after making me have a damn breakdown. Only to go after that girl. And now you appear trying to mend things?” You won’t tell him about his denied petition and what you did. You just want to share all you couldn’t before at his face.
“Do you know how many doctor appointments I’ve had since you left?” He looks down.
“Twelve. And I have to swallow four different pills every day. Only to stay sane. And who’s fault it is? The hunger games, the galas, dancing, Lucy Gray Baird. But specially, you” when he looks up at you again, you are crying.
“If you really want to be here for me, you need to stay away and leave me alone.” You finall state, looking at his blue eyes one last time, before standing from the bench and walking away.
That wasn’t your day. Neither the following ones. Your pointe shoes died and your size was out of stock. The food took such a long time. Your parents left to have an audience in District 1 and your evening was to listen to music and cry.
But certainly what broke you once again was a phone call.
“Hello?” You answer.
“Y/n?”
“Tigris?” You ask. Her voice sounding worried.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Is everything okay? You sound alarmed, dear” you are able to hear her sighing.
“It’s Grandma’am. She’s sick. Coriolanus is busy at the Univeristy and the doctor I requested hasn’t appeared” your heart beats faster.
“She has a strong fever and it’s been like that for hours.” She adds, finally sounding more worried.
“Tigris, calm down. I’ll call my cousin, he’s one of the most prepared doctors around. I’m going there with you in the meantime” you reassure her, already taking off your nightgown and taking out a dress and coat from your closet.
“Thank you, y/n. I truly appreciate this, thank you.” You hang up after saying everything was going to be okay.
You see how changed is the penthouse. Fully renovated, with bright lights that contrasted the dark blue wallpapers. But you find interesting how the olive paint you brought is still there. And your portrait from the day of your eighteen birthday is still with the family pictures.
You wait outside the room of the elder woman, as your cousin is checking Grandma’am. You have to hold the urge from biting your nails. A maid offers you posca, but you can’t think about drinking at the time.
The front doors opens and seconds later, Coriolanus is there. He seems surprised to see you there. Since the day of your argument, he hadn’t see you. He tried calling you but your butler said you were out for the weekend to your grandparents house.
“Y/n?” He asks, dropping his coat on a chair.
“Tigris called me. She wanted a doctor for your grandmother” he worried a bit.
“Is she not feeling better. When I left she seemed better…” he says hurrying to go to her room, but you stop him, grabbing by his forearm.
“Don’t. My cousin is already there with her. I’m waiting for the results” Coriolanus only stares at you. He wants to smile. You came only to help his family once again.
“You look very lovely” you smirk, looking at his window with your arms crossed.
“Really? Your grandmother is sick and you are here saying how lovely I look today?” He smiles.
“You told me to wait. What else can I do?”
“How cynical of you” you respond coldly. After all you told him, he was acting like it never happened.
The door of the room opened and Tigris came out with your cousin.
He revealed Grandma’am was having a little difficulties in her lungs, which made her prone to catch a flu. He gave her some strong medicines and promised it would be fine with some days of resting.
After some minutes, you are also ready to leave.
You say good night to the Snow cousins and leave.
“Y/n. Wait…” Tigris comes out. Stopping you some feet away of the now working elevator.
“I-… Thank you.” She slowly says hugging you.
“It’s nothing, Tigris. I told Coriolanus once I would always help the people I love” Tigris suddenly feels so sad to hear you say that. She really hoped you and her little cousin had a different ending.
“He still loves you so much.” You fight harder against the tears when she says that.
“I know. And I still love him too. But… he never apologized. And I’m not ready to let go my resentment towards him.” You admit looking away.
“Although things did’t work out for you and Coriolanus, I really appreciate and care for you, y/n” se almost whispers in your ear. And your eyes water.
“I feel the same, Tigris. I really do” you reply slowly, controlling your voice to not sound cracked.
“I’ll come back in some days” she nods.
She lets you go and you finally head out. Not noticing that Coriolanus heard everything.
He never apologized.
That night, you are reading on the living room when your butler walks in.
“Coriolanus Snow is asking for you in the telephone” you thank him, walking bare feet towards the kitchen telephone.
“Yes, Mr. Snow?” You ask.
“I just wanted to thank you for coming today. You didn’t have to and yet you appeared here” you sigh.
“Whatever that happened between us has nothing to do with my relationship with Tigris and your mother” now he sighs, from his office, in complete darkness.
“About that y/n…” your hands go numb, and panic floods you.
“You don’t know how much I’m-“
“I know.” You interrupt him, cracked voice and you hang up.
“Sorry” he says through the dead line.
That night, you read his letters. The ones he sent when he was a peacekeeper at the 12. Where he seemed to have projected his more vulnerable and emotional side of his heart. Maybe he had been drunk, maybe Lucy Gray wrote them for him. You’d never know, and you preferred to ignore the idea of him actually feeling sorry.
A week later you’re applauding for Grandma’am as she sings for you. You smile, changing her pillow case and complementing how much of a sweet voice she had.
It’s getting late, and you must return to your house.
After wishing Grandma’am sweet dreams, you carefully close her door and you walk with the old pillow case away.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Tigris asks with a sweet smile, taking the pillow case from you. Coriolanus is seated, drinking something as he carefully looks at you. You ignore him.
“I must decline, dear. I have to go back and pack some things” she frowns, stopping to put some plates on the dinning table.
“Pack?”
“Yes. I think I’ll spend the holidays at District 1. My mother is opening a new studio and she’s going to need help. And well, if everything goes right, I might even stay there” Tigris almost drops the pillow case. And Coriolanus almost chokes on his drink.
“What? Why?. What about university? The galas? Your production job for the hunger games” you shrug with an honest smile.
“Lately the Capitol life has... it has been a burden. I want to live a peaceful life. I want to heal” Tigris sends daggers with her eyes to Coriolanus. He coughs, uncomfortable.
“CORIOLANUS!” Grandma’am calls the man, you only sigh. And slowly, he stands up to to the woman. He hears you keep talking with Tigris. And he wants to do something to stop you from leaving. Now he can give you the life he couldn’t before.
“Is everything alright, Grandma’am?” The elder woman looks at him from her bed.
“Are you really letting that young woman to walk away again?” Coriolanus frowns.
“What?”
“You’ve heard me.” Even in her sick days, she was firm.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Grandma’am shrugs.
“I don’t think so. Her eyes shine sadly at every mention of you. She was part of the family after all.” Coriolanus remains quiet. But he admits to himself that’s what he missed the most.
“I think she always waited for an apology. One that never came.” His heart pounds very fast. He tried, and you hung up.
“What do you suggest me to do?” Grandma’am smiles, coughing tiredly.
“You run to wherever she goes and beg on your knees. One time you show her vulnerability and you’ll never do it again. We, women, only want real love, stupid love. You show her that stupid love once and you can silently do it for the rest of your again”
“You already won the money and respect. You’re just missing out the girl” Coriolanus sweats, but when he turns to look at her grandmother again, she nods, reassuring him.
“Go. Get her back, Coriolanus” without saying anything back, he leaves.
When he enters the dinning room, he only sees two plates of food. He looks at Tigris confused.
“Where’s y/n?” She shrugs, taking a seat.
“She just left.”
Coriolanus runs. He actually runs out of his penthouse and when the elevator starts taking to much time, he decided to choose the stairs as his getaway. He feels sweaty and agitated, but as he goes down, he can’t help but feel slightly happy, the adrenaline of making it on time make him hurry.
“Y/N!” He yells your name once he makes it to the lobby, where he can see you turning back to see him.
You are waiting for Trevor when he appears running towards you.
And before you can even blink or breathe, he gets on his knees.
“Coriolanus Snow. What are you doing?” You ask confused and blushed.
“I’m sorry.” He says.
“I’m sorry about all the stupid things I did. I’m sorry about letting you down. I’m sorry for ruining our relationship. For letting you in that hospital bed and return to do everyhting but apologize to you” you look at him perplexed, not believing his words.
“I can’t lose you again. Because I know you’re the last and only person I’ll love. I won’t trust anyone else. And nobody would have ever looked down at me like you did when I had nothing” you sigh, feeling the tears coming again. You know he’s not lying. You knew him so well that you sense it.
“If you let me. To give me another chance, I’ll do things right. I will never fail you again in life. You’ll be the only person I’ll cherish and show love.” He offers you his hand, and he looks very suppliant.
You blink quickly to soothe the tears. And you know he doesnt deserve you. But aren’t the best person, so maybe you two were actually meant to be together.and that’s the only viable reason to why you want to let your heart freely beat for him again.
“Please don’t go, y/n” he whispers, waiting for your answer. You sigh, slowly and shaking, but you end up taking his hand.
“You’ll better be the most perfect lover of the history of Panem, then” he wraps your fingers together, and stands up.
“I promise, I swear” he knows the memory of Lucy Gray would always follow him. As well of all the deaths he had caused. But nothing compared to the joy of him kissing you again.
Your lips welcome him in the most sweet way. And he finds himself smiling through the kiss, gently holding you closer to him.
It’s in the start of the Road of Hope in the Capitol where Coriolanus Snow had his fully owned penthouse. Where he had nothing, and now had won everything.
Time flies, things had changed, probably for the better. You made Coriolanus keep fighting for a good and healthy relationship. Slowly, he made you completely fall in love again. And although there was certain spark missing, you knew it would never come back. However, you had also accepted that both of you had grown up.
The late talks were mature now. Talking about the future of Panem, planning dinners together. The kisses were more passionate, unlike the softness that was all over your early relationship. The sex was harder rather than slow and sweet like the beginning. Coriolanus would like to leave many hickeys scattered across your body, make a wet mess of saliva and fluids. He loved feelings your almond nails leave gentle scratches across his pale back.
But certainly, the biggest change was the way you two were handling a life together.
After turning twenty, you got married. Soon Coriolanus bought the house he always wished to give you. The one with black and white tiles floor, beige walls and big stairs.
By the first week in, he had done many refurbishments and he had fucked you in every room, every corner and every surface of the house.
Till the day you turned twenty-two. By that time, you had almost ditched your dancing career. Sometimes you still had some chances to perform on galas. But Coriolanus convinced you to focus on public services and the production of the hunger games. Dr. Gaul had officially retired, and it was going to be the first year of Coriolanus as a game maker. Things had really changed.
But everything seemed fine.
“Dear, Are you ready?” You turn to look at your husband, who waits on the frame of the door.
“Just one moment” you run to slip into your silver heels before grabbing your purse.
Trevor kept his job as your chauffeur and Millie was now your private secretary. Sometimes you hated how formal your life had become. Especially now that Coriolanus had some plans in mind.
As soon as you arrive to the fancy patio from a million-dollar man house, many women eye you and Coriolanus.
“Remind me what are we doing here?” You ask him. He holds your hand tightly, smiling at many of the invited people.
“I’m assuming the role of game maker. You are giving a speech about the improvements for the 14th Hunger Games, my dear” you nod, clutching onto his cold hand harder. Both of you were kind of the sensation around the Capitol. You know how they whisper about your dress and your husband’s physic.
“You’re going to be fine. You always choose the right words. And your voice can charm anyone here” he whispers on your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.
“Thank goddess I’ve been studying the constitution. Or else these men would bury me” Coriolanus laughs. Soon you enter the actual event. With long white tables, candles and everyone dressed either on red or black.
“Men around here don’t know how smart my wife is” he says shrugging, remembering how many honors you received from university. Some of the wives ask you to join them. You wave hello to them before leaning to your man.
“Do not make me jealous or leave me alone during the speech.” You firmly say to him.
“Of course not, my love”
“Love you.” And with one last kiss, you walk away.
For the rest of the night. You feel uneasy. Because you succeeded with the speech. But once you read the part from Coriolanus, you are at the verge of babbling.
He shared some of his initial proposals for the games. Like lowering the age of the tributes, increasing the obstacles in the arena, using more mutts, allowing weapons, and making the interviews with Lucky Flickerman longer.
It had been a long time since you think about the games so much. But that guilt you felt after seeing Coriolanus as mentor, never left. And after that dinner, everyone claps for your husband and you, after being considered as the couple of the next generation for Panem.
In the privacy of your new home, you constantly zone out to think about it. You can’t ask Coriolanus to stop the games, but he could make some changes.
You knock swiftly on his door.
“Come in.” You walk in and he drops the papers he was signing to smile at the sight of you.
“Hello, you.” he says cheekily.
“Hello, you’.” You reply. He indicates you to seat on his lap and you do so. His arms lock around you, hands resting on your back.
“Are you coming to bed anytime soon?” You ask.
“I just need to sign some things, darling” he watches you frown, and he won’t say you look older, because you don’t. But you certainly look wiser, mature and more like a woman rather than a girl.
“I’ve been thinking about the games” He’s all ears now. He knows you had some specific opinions. You had said in your first interview how brutal the games were.
“What about them?”
“I would never ask you to stop the games. But…” you stop, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
“But what, my dear?”
“Don’t you think those tributes are humans? Yes, the Districts deserve to be reminded of the consequences of their acts. But most of the tributes are kids. Who don’t even understand everything that conveys a war.” Coriolanus sighs, trying to choose the correct words to answer you.
“What are you suggesting?” He tries to sound calm, but the mere subject makes him a little irritated.
“I don’t know… Maybe giving them more opportunities?” He giggles, caressing the skin on your hips.
“Giving them opportunities means going soft on them. And going soft on them could trigger a new rebellion” this time you sigh, trying to persuade him by brushing his hair, softly grasping his chin.
“Not like that, Coryo. I mean… raising the majority age of the tributes. Giving them at least the chance to train. To eat a proper meal on the last night. To show who they are one last time before they’re sent to die” Coriolanus would always believe that you’re only one weakness was your humanity. How you always turned to see down on others, feeling guilty from being born with all the commodities.
So, he tries to ignore it. He tries to see your suggestions as a way to punish the tributes harder. Give them everything to then killing them.
So, he smiles, urging you to kiss him. You reply immediately, holding him closer to feel the heated proximity.
“I could arrange some changes. Would that make you feel better?” You nod on his lips, smiling.
“Now let me finish this before meeting you in bed. And I expect you have this thing off before I get there” he says grabbing your nightgown. You laugh with a potent blush, gently pushing him away.
“Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not being silly. In two days, we start the tour, we will be very tired to make love daily as we do now” you roll your eyes, almost running away ad your husband laughs, making fun of your embarrassment.
“This is madness. I’m going to bed” you say getting out of his office.
“Don’t forget about what I said!” He yells, making you smile in love as you leave upstairs, wishing good night to the maids and butler. For the record, you do not forget about your husband’s petition.
The best part of the house is the rooftop in your opinion. A terrace with cristal walls and ceilings that had a gorgeous view of the Capitol. A view that included some monuments and the snowy mountains surrounding the city.
You had a little bar there, an eccentric dining table and some couches with colorful cushions.
Grandma’am made you take some of his roses so you could start your own garden. That brought tears to your eyes. But now, it was only you and Tigris there.
You asked the chef to make some vegetables and creams as your sister-in-law arrived for dinner. Coriolanus and you were set to leave the next morning for his political campaign tour.
“Have you packed everything?” Tigris asks.
“Yes. I wish I could take Trevor with me. But only Millie will be able to come” you say smiling. Tigris notices how you constantly look at the door, hoping to see Coriolanus entering.
“Have you told him?” You shake your head at the woman.
“Not yet. Probably by the time we arrive District 4. We have good memories from there” Tigris smiles. She was really excited when you got back together with Coriolanus. She even made your wedding dress. And now she was so proud of the career you two were making.
“Sorry for the delay. I was arguing with some incompetent who cancelled the delivery of our new chandeliers” Tigris rolls her eyes as your husband cheekily smiles.
“Dinner isn’t ready yet, anyways” you say patting his back as he takes a seat beside you.
“You shouldn’t be stressing over the tour. Your dear wife must’ve prepared the most wonderful speeches for you to say” Coriolanus smiles, turning to give you a peck on the nose, making you laugh.
“It’s not that, Tigris. It’s the time that’s freaking me out. I don’t want to be gone for almost two months.” You sigh, trying to keep everything together. You just pray that the tour goes smoothly.
“Each district will host you with all commodities” it’s a lie. Coriolanus isn’t ready to go to District 12 again. Where his father died, where he committed the worst decisions of his early life. He knows those days will be a little sour. But he’s willing to play pretend very well for you.
“It’s going to be fine. Pardon me, dear” Coriolanus says after seeing your face of over thinking. His wife is so smart that she’s probably wondering the same as him. And that’s the least he needs of.
You take his hand, before hearing the food has arrived. The air changes, the dinner flows happily as you talk and gossip with Tigris and your husband. It’s a great dinner actually.
Maybe he broke your heart when you were teenagers. But you delayed his political campaign for four years. Maybe he had looked too much at Lucy Gray Baird, but at the end it would only be you.
You could’ve done better to get rid of that guilt for participating in the hunger games, but you just realize that maybe you didn’t because you are not a good person either.
Even so, every morning, you wake up in his arms as he fulfilled his promise of never failing you again.
You just hope that the tour, the upcoming games and everything else doesn’t get into your way. Nothing can be a recoil. Not when Coriolanus Snow’s first child rests peacefully in your womb.
The future was uncertain. But your past and present along him always seemed like… a hatred road.
_____________________________________________
fyi, in my head, if reader hadn’t delayed Coriolanus political emergence, the second rebellion would’ve started earlier and probably it wouldn’t have been successful. (Basically it would’ve been like a second time “dark days” situation and then back to reconstruction again)
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darkbluekies · 10 months ago
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I just read Jerry and Hedwig reacting to us bleeding on the sheets what about the guys👀 specifically silas (cause my daddy issues run wild for him)😩
Silas, Dr Kry & King Edmund drabbles: bleeding through at a "sleepover" (or in their house)
The girls reaction male!yanderes (mob boss, doctor & king) x fem!reader Warnings?: sexual indication, disgusted by blood, yandere
Silas:
You're on a mission with him, staying in a house belonging to the second in command. Being the boss’s little darling has its benefits — especially in these situations. If you hadn't been his, chances are that you would get killed for ruining someone's sheets.
"Silas", you whisper while shaking him carefully. "Please, wake up. Oh, God, please wake up ..."
He grunts and opens his dark eyes, looking around confusedly before fixating his eyes on you. He freezes.
"What's wrong, baby?" he asks raspily and grabs your arm.
"I bled through ...", you whisper weakly, body full pf panic. "I didn't know, I wasn't supposed to start now!"
Silas removes the cover to look at the stain. He doesn't say anything as he removes them all before picking up his phone to call one of his most trustworthy men.
"Don't worry about it, baby", he says tiredly. "I'll fix this."
"Will your second in command get mad?" you ask hesitantly.
"He won't. He knows better." Silas holds the phone to his ear. "I need you to bring me new sheets and to send someone to buy whatever Y/N tells you to get. Here Y/N."
He gives you the phone. You tell the man on the other side what you need. He replies politely, knowing better than to talk informally to you. Silas stands by, watching carefully and rubbing your back.
As soon as you get what you need, you get out of your bottom clothes and change. Silas sits down in bed with you in his lap. He brings his legs up to trap you in his embrace. His rough hands sneak under your shirt to massage your aching stomach.
"You know ...", he whispers in your ear, hand traveling lower. "Exercise helps with cramps ... I know something that is a great form of exercise. Want me to show you?"
You grab his hand, moving it back to your stomach.
"Come on", he smirks against your jaw. "You'd like it."
"I'll kick your nuts if you continue talking", you warn him.
Silas chuckles and pulls the blankets higher, kissing your forehead.
"Women and their temperament", he grins and softens his face. "Guess I have to wait then. Why don't you try going to sleep, little thing? It's late."
"Are you sure your second in command won't be mad?" you ask carefully.
"If he even dares to snarl at you, I'll stain his sheets with his blood instead." Silas kisses your lips with a reassuring smile. "You have nothing to be worried about, little thing, I've always got your back."
Dr Kry:
He has installed a baby monitor, just a week prior, to being able to supervise you 24/7. He wakes up by hearing shuffling from the machine and takes a look to see you grabbing all of your sheets in your arms. Dr Kry frowns. Are you going to sleep on the floor again? You have such weird ideas to entertain yourself. But the look of sheer guilt and horror paints your face, knocking those thoughts out of his head. Dr Kry hurries to grab his silk robe and hurry up to your room.
You're currently washing them in the bathtub. You freeze when you hear him unlock the door and enter the room.
"Where are you?" he asks.
"Here", you reply quietly, watching how he enters the bathroom.
Dr Kry crouches down beside you on the floor, putting his hand on your shoulder. He glances between the sheets and your face.
"What happened?" he asks.
"I-I bled through", you say. "I'm so sorry, doctor, I will fix it-"
"No, you're not." Dr Kry grabs your arm and pulls you up in your feet. "I'll fix it. You're not well, you shouldn't do this."
You feel bad. Dr Kry works long shifts and during his only rest, you've forced him up to clean up the mess you've caused.
"Y/N, it's fine", the doctor reassures you and walks over to give you a short hug. "Things like this happens. You should look at it from another angle — you can be pregnant. You're fertile. Alright? That's a good thing. A very good thing."
He's secretly glad that his poisoning hasn't affected your reproduction organs. You need them. He wants you to have them. Dr Kry wants nothing more than to have children with you.
"Let's stop crying and realize that this isn't a big thing, okay?" he says and wipes your tears. "You don't have to be ashamed. I've watched much, much worse things."
"Like what?" you ask quietly.
Dr Kry smiles teasingly. "I've seen people spill urine samples on themselves, have had people using the rear temperature stick for a patients mouth, and whatnot. This is nothing. It's natural, nothing to be ashamed of."
You try not to smile. "Did someone really use the wrong temperature stick?"
Dr Kry grins and nods, happy to see you a bit calmer.
"Let's get you some painkillers now so you can go rest", he says and puts his hand on your back to guide you. "I'll change the sheets, and you can just sit by, okay? Everything you need is in the bathroom."
He sits with you until the cramps stop, and decide to stay in the room with you while you sleep, just in case you would wake up again. He smiles slightly for himself. The poisioned air hasn't ruined your chances of ferility, he couldn't be more greateful.
King Edmund
You're terrified of telling him. Edmund is the type to believe that you can hold it in. With absolutely zero knowledge about females, risk is that he will get mad at you for ruining his expensive sheets instead of understanding. You know that he buys them from special places. One of a kind.
Edmund has never been taught how women work, it has been taboo and unnecessary for him, as a king, to learn. The only thing he knows is that a woman bleeds once a month, and that is it. Nothing more. He doesn't know how it works or why it happens.
But you can't stop the maid from telling him. He comes walking from his office with a deep frown on his face. You're dead. Before sending the maids out, he walks over to the bed and inspects the damage. When the girls are gone and the door is closed, he turns to you.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.
"I thought that you would get mad", you admit quietly. "It's your expensive sheets ..."
"And you think that it'll help the situation by sending one of the maids to tell me, instead of telling me yourself?"
"I didn't send her. I didn't want you to know ... at all."
"Why?"
"I told you ... I was scared that you'd get mad. You'd have told me to keep it in."
He groans, hiding his face in his hands. "For fucks sake, Y/N!" He removes his hands. "Why in the living Hell would I care more about about a pair of sheets rather than my own wife?"
You don't answer. Edmund walks over and grabs your shoulders before pulling you into a hug.
"You underestimate me, my jewel", he mutters and kisses your temple. "Now, go take a bath."
He tells a maid to fill the tub with scalding hot water to soothe your cramps and tells another maid to change the sheets.
"Burn the sheets and the night gown", he tells the maid. "I don't want anyone unworthy to see my queen's blood, got it?"
And the maid nods quickly before running off.
While you sit in the steaming tub, Edmund sits on the floor beside it, keeping you company. He should be doing work, but instead he's here, with you.
"I'm sorry about your sheets", you sigh and lean against the tub. "I know that they're expensive."
"Shut up about those fucking sheets now", Edmund groans and caresses your cheek. "I have enough to buy a hundred more sheets. I could buy the entire world, if I wanted to. A few sheets are nothing for me."
He leans over to kiss your wet forehead.
"Are you disgusted?" you ask carefully.
"A bit ... but not as much as I thought I'd be", Edmund replies with a grimace. "I'm more concerned about you, to be honest. Seeing you bleed, in any way, makes my heart sink in a disgusting way. I'm just angry I don't have anyone to blame for your pain."
You try to joke. "Blame my parents for making me a girl."
But he looks deadly serious. "No, never. They made you ... my wife and queen. I could never blame them for giving you this pain." He sighs and taking your hand. "If there is anything i can do to take the pain away, tell me. Teach me."
"Well, you actually had this right, the warm water. It helps."
"Anything else?"
"Sugar. Just for the hormones."
Edmund nods, thinking. He shouts for a maid to tell the kitchen staff to make cakes. He then turns back to you and smiles proudly. Maybe he isn't as bad as you thought?
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starrywilliams · 5 months ago
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guilty as sin? | abby anderson
“these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head”
warnings: masturbation, slight masochism, ruined orgasm, angst, perv!abby (a little), internalized homophobia (discussed in more detail below)
notes: no surprise my favourite ttpd song is the gayest one on the album, but guilty as sin? screams lesbian guilt i fear!!!! i’ve been writing this for over a month so i hope u guys like it 😭
cw: discussion of lesbian guilt & comphet - these are somewhat based on my own experiences with my sexuality and i absolutely!!! do not think a man can ‘cure’ a lesbian or anything similar to that. nor do i believe anyone should ever feel guilty for being gay. realising i’m a lesbian has been extremely freeing & dykes r the best x
wc: 1.8k
likes, comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated :)
the door slammed harshly behind abby as she stormed into her room. she pulled her jacket off desperately; her skin hot under its tight vice. she’d been in the gym, trying to work out her endless frustration of late, when you’d walked in.
you’d only said “hi" and smiled politely at her before setting your things down. but she felt her stomach churn, a black hole opening inside her. abby stood up, pulling the weights off the barbell and onto their rack. she grunted softly, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.
you’d started stretching, currently bent over as you touched your toes. her eyes drifted for an infinitesimal moment, locking onto the swell of your-. she looked away - wrongwrongwrong.
but then she looked back, her stare feasting on your body. she wondered whether you were doing this on purpose, trying to tempt her from across the room. she wondered if you knew her dirty little secret, abby picturing a smirk on your face as you mocked her for such indecent thoughts.
she didn’t want to feel this way. she didn’t want to feel the poison ivy swarming around her chest, getting tighter, tighter. the rash spread inside her; this invisible whip of lust lashing against her skin whenever your face appeared in her mind. well, had it been just your face maybe she wouldn’t feel like some depraved sinner.
now it wasn’t like abby believed in god, in a world where death and destruction infect every crevice you’d have to be mad to believe that any ‘god’ wanted its followers to suffer so greatly. but something inside her screamed every time she had these thoughts. these impure, twisted thoughts about you.
she didn’t know what made her feel like this. what made her resent you for simply existing; and what made her resent herself.
she recalled her teenage years, when manny had subtly suggested that owen liked her - so she was supposed to like him back, right? and she tried! she loved him even - but there was always that something, that feeling in her gut that told her that something was wrong, something about him that just would never sit right with her.
but all the other girls wanted a boyfriend too, and the jealousy was nice at first - she’d thought. after all, mel was the star student, a doctor in the making, her dad’s favourite; and nora was this freshly trained medical officer, and abby was- abby was just abby.
her dad began noticing her more too - previously too preoccupied with his firefly duties and his favourite student. now his little girl was slipping away from him, he finally began paying her the amount of attention she’d craved for so long.
before, their conversations had often drifted into talk of mel and her new achievements, or his hopes of a vaccine, or some animal he was tracking. never anything about his daughter’s life.
having a boyfriend made her interesting, it gave the other girls something to envy. which was a nice reversal, for a while. then her dad died, and she had become this object of pity. owen helped a bit, she supposed. he tried to distract her and keep her focused on their new role as soldiers, but she barely cared about him anymore. all she wanted was revenge, and with revenge, came you.
you were one of the gyms trainers, passionate about helping the members of the wlf stay fit and healthy! you’d helped her start lifting weights, squealed as she reached every milestone, and had remarked jokingly about just how much you loved her new physique.
it was innocent at first, the most being her brain going a little fuzzy when you’d bit your lip while spotting her; a slight blush when you’d hugged her a little too tight. then, once she and owen were finally broken up, these new pictures began hanging themselves on the walls of her mind. still, innocent, just slightly tainted with desire - the true nature of them still an avoidable matter for her back then.
when she could ignore the truth in her recent behaviour, abby loved spending time with you. after all, you were just really good friends! anyway, she’d had a boyfriend before so everyone knew she was normal, and absolutely not different, and she would never ever have to feel like an outsider.
yet it took a mere three months before she gave up on this foolish lie. she liked you, and as long as nobody ever found out, it wouldn’t matter.
but as her mind grew dark and twisted - joel a constant topic in her head as she obsessed over finally getting to enact revenge - her thoughts got worse in turn. she wanted you - filthily and desperately.
every gym session ended with another cold shower, a desperate plea for her body to stop and let her focus on the task at hand; a hopeless attempt to bury this ache into the ground; an endless endeavour to escape these urges for just one second.
but then she came back changed, every hair on her body endlessly erected with guilt. the way she’d killed him so mercilessly, the way it had done nothing to ease the pain, and the way you had tormented her mind ceaselessly throughout the entire trip.
maybe, had she never met you, she could’ve just killed him and been satisfied. maybe had you never offered to train her personally, she could’ve just stayed comfortable in that stuffy closet. maybe if she found the right man she’d stop feeling this way.
abby deemed such ideas unfathomable now.
owen made her feel nothing. being with him was like an eternal thursday, an endless wait for the week’s end and its pleasure to turn up at her door. every day she’d wait for some spark to arrive, the routine only becoming more and more tedious by the minute. but he helped her get people’s attention, which was enough when she was just abby.
but then she was abby anderson, top scar killer and isaac’s favourite. she got attention on her own, she was praised for her own accomplishments: people worshipped the fucking ground she walked on. but they didn’t know who she really was.
they didn’t know she liked girls the way she was supposed to like boys. she’d seen it in enough of those wlf movie nights - cruel jokes about anyone who even thought about being different. she’d heard the way people gossiped, “did you hear that they’re moving lesbians into the family unit? what a joke.”
they said it like it was something dirty, something egregious, something that she had to hate about herself. so she did.
but as long as she kept it secret, kept it locked away in her mind, maybe she’d be okay. after all, only your actions talk: it was the age old question really, if a tree falls in a forest and no one else hears it, does it make a sound?
abby fell back against her bed sheets, calloused hands pushing her cargos down to her ankles as she replayed the sight of you in her mind. bent over - she felt like you were trying to tempt her on purpose.
she felt like a heathen; staring, fantasizing, worshipping. her mind was bursting with the idea of every possible position she could put you in; head a chorus of every little noise she wanted to hear you make; eyes screwed shut as depravity filled her every sense.
she shoved her bralette up her chest roughly, fingertips dragging over her nipples with little mercy. she pinched them, the peach skin stinging underneath her touch.
she wanted it to hurt; wanted it to feel like some sort of punishment for her thoughts. but as her hips bucked into the air, a long whine dragging from her clenched jaw, she realised it needed to hurt more.
she imagined you, finding her like this. disgust burnt into your features - what the fuck was she doing? repeating your name like some subverted prayer, fingers harshly scratching along her stomach as she tried to make the pleasure feel more like pain, trying to induce some connection between the two.
if it hurt enough, would she stop? force herself to forget? could she torture this part of herself until it surrendered?
her hand slipped over the top of her boxers, a finger running tentatively over her clit through the now darkened fabric. she bit down on her lip, groaning against it as she pushed down harder and harder, attempting to break through the skin.
another finger pressed down, beginning to draw circles down on the throbbing bud. she jolted against her own touch, your head between her legs burning into her mind. your hands, trailing along her flesh - groping at her with little tenderness; tongue, swiping at her pussy with no intent of fulfillment: she wanted you to make her weep, smoke out her lungs with shame, deny her from gratification until all she could feel was regret.
she pulled away, only to cover her fingertips with her spit - diving under her boxers to continue with her corruption. abby let out a strangled sigh, hips grinding against her fingers as they toyed with her clit.
she moved a hand to her hair, knuckles stretching against her scalp as she began to pull her braid. she grunted, yanking even harder. she whispered your name: pained, hopeless.
she sped up her assault against her pussy, feeling that pit in the bottom of her stomach begin to grow. “pleasepleaseplease” her voice cracked as she begged, unsure what she was pleading for.
she wanted to stop, but she needed to try and make this feeling go away. she knew it would come back, it always did - but even five minutes free from your torment on her mind might save her.
her fingers kept going, drawing desperate circles against her weeping pussy relentlessly. the void was growing, almost consuming her entirely at this point. she thought of you laughing at her current state: a crying mess, pussy wet with perversion.
it was sick, really - how the idea of you hating her for this made her need even worse. you’d probably think it appalling: someone who was supposed to be your friend, now sat here burning at the thought of you.
a part of her wished that you shared this sickness. that you too let yourself be overwhelmed by the thought of sin. maybe you didn’t let the guilt swallow you whole - she hoped so.
but there was no point lingering in the what-ifs, they were far too fleeting.
her deft fingers quickened their pace, the ache all consuming. the climb began - a desperate jump towards oblivion. closer, closer. the flames scorched her bedsheets as her breathing hastened.
fuck, she hissed before reaching the apex with a scream of your name. a scream? a whisper? a thought? it didn’t make her actions any less deplorable.
her conscience grabbed pleasure by the throat as she ripped her fingers away, putting out the blaze on her hips like a cigarette crushed on the ground.
the desire imploded within the walls of her torso; scratching against her insides in the vengeance of her denial.
it was wrong; she had to stop it. yet still, the guilt poured into her lungs with no chance of resolve. she was a fool for thinking it would fix her. maybe next time it would work. maybe next time the exorcism would finally purify her.
until next time.
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ddejavvu · 1 year ago
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Hey Mei 🫶
Here’s my idea - BAU!wife who yells at Hotch when he yells at their team members because she’s a protective momma bear. And hotch secretly loves it because his wife yelling gets him all hot and bothered.
Love you 🫶 and your writing thank you 🧡
Perhaps it's an unwise idea to pick a fight with your surly husband, especially because he doubles as your surly boss. But Spencer hadn't even been that late, and you know he only walked in late because he takes public transportation, and he couldn't control that the bus was late. And, Aaron's only in such a sour mood because Jack had given him typical teenage attitude before school this morning. So really, Spencer didn't deserve the near-shouted lecture he'd gotten.
You march over to the young doctor's desk, happy that his aversion to touch applies to people he's not familiar with. He leans into your stomach when you pull his head to rest on it, albeit stiffly, and you call after your husband with narrowed, fierce eyes.
"Aaron, come back here right now and apologize." You demand, and the already icy mood in the office shifts a few degrees colder. Aaron stops on the stairs and by the tightness of his shoulders he's composing himself, then he turns on his heel and raises a thick brow at you.
"What?"
"He didn't deserve that," You scold him, keeping Spencer's head cradled to your stomach as you stroke down his back, "He's a baby."
Aaron rolls his eyes, "He is not a baby, Y/N. He's a grown man with a government job, and I expect him to show up to it on time."
"He does! He's early every single other day," You remind him, "But the bus came late today! How was he supposed to get here? Uber? You know he doesn't know how to download new apps! Let alone link his bank account to pay the guy. He was seven minutes late, for fuck's sake, just leave him alone!"
Aaron looks like he wants to snap. You've gnashed your teeth at him, and he's lived the life of a fighting dog thus far, so you know you're treading in dangerous waters. But after a rather intense stare down in which you feel Spencer's face heating up through the fabric of your shirt, your husband swallows his pride and mutters, "I expect you in my office within five minutes, Y/N."
Spencer mumbles some feeble protest on your behalf but you pat his back to shush him, letting go so that he can straighten up again.
"Don't worry," You send him a warm smile, "I can handle him. Call me if you ever need a ride again, okay? We can come pick you up."
"Okay." He nods, but it's most likely only to deter you from pampering him with any more motherly affection, as he looks like he's going to wilt from it, "Thanks, Y/N."
"Anytime," You squeeze his shoulder, passing your concerned teammates unbothered smiles as you make your way to Aaron's office.
He's only recently sat down when you arrive, but you notice that he's conveniently sitting so that the desk blocks your view of his lower half. You stand at attention in front of his desk, playing coy like you don't know what's coming next.
"Do you enjoy questioning my authority in front of my team?" He asks you, voice carefully even and tight.
"I enjoy doing anything that makes your dick twitch, Aaron." You announce, your tone deceptively casual for the filth you're spewing, "Did you haul me in here to fuck me over the desk? The blinds are still open, don't you think that's a little distasteful?"
Your attitude only makes him more uncomfortably aroused, and he regrets getting his suits tailored so precisely, as his pants have little give. He leans forwards across his desk, dark eyes boring into yours.
"No. I hauled you in here to tell you that I'm going to fuck you over the desk. But not yet. You're asking for it now, so I'm not giving it to you. Maybe if you'd been a little more polite, I'd have given you what you wanted. But now you're going to wait, because you decided to bicker with me over the rules of this office. Rules that I set, because I am in charge of keeping this team on track."
The harsh tone of his voice makes your stomach twist, and you're feeling your heartbeat in two places. You stand there, saliva slowly accumulating on your tongue, until he raises a brow at you, unimpressed.
"Don't do that again. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir." You lay on the formality hot and heavy, practically purring it and watching as he shifts slightly in his seat, "I'll be waiting, whenever you decide you can't take it anymore."
"Careful." He snaps, eyes ablaze at your implication that he'll be the one to break, "Don't dig yourself any deeper. Dismissed."
You turn to leave with a satisfied smirk on your face, and perhaps you exaggerate bending over to pick up a stray paperclip that you notice on the floor by his door.
"Here," You pad back across the room to hand it to him, not missing the way that he's tense all over, "See you in twenty, Hotchner."
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latenightdaydreams · 6 months ago
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Family Planning (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List✍🏽
Part 2
>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, cucking, p in v, religion, priest König
2.1k word count
.
.
You’ve been married to your husband, Lucas, for four years now. Both of you are high school sweethearts. You never thought you’d have to seek counseling for the relationship. You nervously twiddle your thumbs as you sit outside your priest’s office, sitting next to your husband. Finally, the door opens and König’s eyes land on the two of you.
“Please, come in.” He stands at the door, waiting for you both to enter before he closes the door behind him. Once he sits down, he leans forward with a polite smile across his thin lips. “Mr. and Mrs. Altman. What brings you to me?”
There is a heavy tension in the room as you gaze over to Lucas. He sits with a finger pressing against his temple as he rests his arm on the armrest. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to talk about this.
“Well, it’s…we’ve been having some issues lately.” You speak carefully, trying to not offend your husband. 
“What issues?” König gives a concerned look to your husband.
“Well, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for the last four years and nothing. I went to the doctor, and everything was fine with me…” You stop talking and drop your head down, knowing the topic upsets your husband.
“So, that means it’s you that can’t get her pregnant?” His eyes lock with your husbands.
“Yes…”
“And that makes you feel…” König was trying to get him to admit his feelings.
“Worthless.” Lucas says in a low voice. “As if I’m not a man.” You rest your hand on your husband's legs and rub it in a supporting way. 
“We’ve always wanted a family. Since we met as teens, we’ve planned on having kids. The issue is not only his sperm, but to have a child, it would be through unnatural means.”
König watches the shape of your mouth as you speak. He nods his head occasionally to make sure you know he is listening to you.           Once you finish explaining your moral stance against IVF, he finally speaks.
“It seems almost cruel that God would give such a strong, devoted couple as yourselves such a heavy cross to bear.” His blue eyes gaze into yours as he speaks. “I also agree, IVF is unnatural and goes against God's word. The Lord sees how you’ve both struggled, yet never even up on one another.”
Tears creep up in your eyes as Father validates every feeling you’ve had along your way so far. Instead of judgment, he is listening with care. 
“But have you considered… other options?”
“Like adoption?” Lucas asks.
“Hm, no. Just a simple sperm donation.” König leans back in his desk chair, his fingertips touching as he studies both of your reactions.
“But having seed spilled by a contraption…it isn’t of God.” Lucas speaks softly. He knows you’d have the beautiful family you have always dreamed of if it weren’t for him. Guilt floods his body.
“Not with any medical intervention.”
“Then…how?”
“I can offer you my seed, to impregnate you.” König says boldly.
“Excuse me?” There is a bit of anger in Lucas’s tone.
“Please do not misunderstand me. I am a man of God. I’ve given up all pleasures in life. I’m simply the vessel put here by the Lord to give you the family you both desire. Like God impregnated Mary, but Joseph raised Jesus as his own.”
You sit staring at Father König with your mouth slightly ajar. Like God did with Mary and Joseph… Those words you kept repeating in your head, and the more it started to make sense.
“But that’s adultery.” Lucas snapped.
“God let men impregnate another woman in the bible when their woman was barren. I don’t see the difference here. No romance, just God’s gift.” He smiles at the both of you, impressed with how gullible you both seem to be. 
“He has a point, honey.” Your hand continues to caress Lucas’s leg.
He looks into your eyes for a while, a heavy gaze of guilt on his own. Is he really about to allow his Priest to sleep with his wife? That would be crazy, right? It would result in a pregnancy, and you’ll be able to start the family you’ve always wanted. Both he and Father König are blonde blue eyed me, so it wouldn’t be too hard to hide.
“I- can we think about this?” You can hear the buildup of emotions in his voice.
“Of course, take all the time you need.” König suppresses a small smirk. 
Everyone stands and you go home with Lucas. The night you both stay all talking, arguing, crying, laughing; just every emotion hitting at once. This is a conversation you never saw yourselves having. All you’ve ever wanted is to be a mother, and now God has given you an answer.
.
.
You arrive outside of Father König’s home, fingers intertwined with Lucas’s. He hesitates before his knocks on the door finally. A few seconds later, König opens it, greeting you both with a warm smile. He is wearing his black pants and shirt with a Priest collar on.
“Bitte kommen Sie herein.” König steps aside to let you and Lucas come inside. 
The home is simple with crosses and imagery of Jesus and the Virgin Mary hanging on the walls. You both linger awkwardly, thumbs caressing one another’s hand. König closes and locks the door.
“Shall we.” He gestures for the both of you to follow him down a long hall. 
Turning into the last door on the left, he welcomes you in. There is a large king size bed with gray sheets and a blue comforter. A simple wooden cross with a bloody Jesus on the wall behind the bed. Your eyes linger on it for a while before turning your gaze towards Lucas. He is looking at the bed with a dejected look in his eyes. A heavy tension lingers in the air. 
“Y/n, you should undress.” König’s Austrian accent is smooth.
You nod and kick your shoes off before pulling off your sweater. Lucas took it for you, his eyes looking over your body as you slowly peeled away each layer. Both trying to avoid Father's gaze and only focus on each other. Once stripped of all your clothing, Lucas slips his hand back into yours. “You’ll be okay…” He whispers to you, pressing his lips to your forehead.
König takes your hand from your husbands, his icy blue eyes gazing down into yours. He walks to the bed, lifting you and gently laying you in the center of the bed. 
“Lucas, sit at the head of the bed. It’s important that you’re a part of this too.”
Lucas slowly kicks his shoes off and walks to the bed, pulling the pillows aside and sitting. His hands caress your hair, trying to ignore Father touching you. Ignoring how his hands ran up your legs, caressing the supple flesh of your thighs.
You tried hard to ignore Father's touch, but your body was responding positively. He climbs on top of you, his weight sinking you into the bed. Timid warm kisses trailing up your abdomen to your breasts. 
“Is all of this…necessary?” Lucas's voice cracks.
“Ja,” he continues to kiss over your breasts, lightly sucking on your perky nipples. “Her body needs to be relaxed to accept my seed.”
Lucas huffs, rolling his eyes. König ignores him, moving his lips to kiss up your neck, slowly making his way to your lips. He lightly bit your bottom lip before pressing his lips fully against yours. His knee sliding between your legs, rubbing it against your clit. You whimper slightly as his tongue circles yours.
“You like that, Liebling?” He licks your lips before kissing you passionately. 
Lucas stares at a wall as this is going on. He can feel his cock become slightly erect, but he tries to ignore it. He doesn’t want to get aroused watching a man take his wife. He’s her one and only- at least that’s how it was always supposed to be.
“Let’s see how wet you are for Father…” König says as he leans back. On his black pant leg there is a white wet streak. He smirks and looks at you. “Perfekt.”
Your eyes gaze up at Lucas, a bit of shame in your gaze for becoming so aroused. König grabs your hips and scoots you closer to him. Your legs spread open in front of him as he undoes his pants. He pulls his enormous cock out, his hand grasping it at the base.
Lucas' eyes go wide, looking at König’s penis. A wave of jealousy, insecurity, and shame rushes over him. How would you feel about him after you’ve been with Father? Can he compare? Will he ever be able to please you again? He is quickly snapped out of his thoughts as Father speaks.
“Are you ready, y/n?”
“Yes.” You said quickly, almost too quickly for Lucas’s liking.
“Look at me, Liebling.” König grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. His eyes watching you closely as he slips his cock into you. He watches the way your breathing shutters and your eyebrows pinch together. 
His hand moves from your jaw to your hips, grabbing your legs and spreading them wide apart. With each roll of his hips, you let out a pathetic little mewl. You’re trying your hardest to not give into the pleasure, you’re here to procreate, not have sex.
Lucas notices the way your face contorts with euphoria as König’s big cock fucks you. His cock rock hard in his own pants. He can’t help but to keep his eyes glued to your tiny little cunt struggling to accept König. The way your creamy cum covers his cock. You’re loving this and it kills him.
“Father…” The words slip your lips before you realize you’re moaning his name. Your eyes instantly shoot up to Lucas. An orgasm is building up but you try to fight it. Mouth hanging open, you let out a loud moan as König begins to buck into you faster.
“Cum for me.” König drops one leg and reaches out to squeeze your left breast. 
As you gaze at Lucas your body trembles under König, the sound of your wet cunt getting louder as you cum on his cock.
“That’s it, you’re doing so well.” König leans over and begins to kiss you passionately, stealing your attention back to him. “Your pussy gets so wet for Father.” His whispers kissing down your jaw. 
König pulls out, his large hands grasping your body and turning you over. You get on all fours, facing Lucas. He comes up behind you and slips his cock back into you without words. His hands squeeze the fat on your ass, spanking you to see the jiggle. Lucas glares at him, this is sex for pleasure for Father. His glare does not go unnoticed. 
“I’m close to giving you my seed Liebling…” König’s deep sensual voice now strained from the feelings of your tiny cunt sucking him in. “Lucas, please pray.”
“Pray?” He sounds shocked.
“For me to cum in your wife. For me to impregnate her.”
Your fingers are grabbing beat sheets as you look at Lucas. Babbling words as he thrust his cock even deeper into you. König grabs a fist full of your hair, holding your head up so Lucas has to see the way he is turning his wife into nothing but a stupid little sex doll.
“Please Lord, hear my prayers. Please let Father König’s seed be successful and fruitful.” Lucas looks at you with a slight bit of disgust. His sweet Catholic wife would never be enjoying fornication with another man this much. This was all a mistake.
“Say you want my cum!”
“Please, please cum in me! Please God! Please fill me!” Your voice is so enthusiastic, you’ve never acted like this for Lucas before.
“Ah, Ja!” König stops moving and pushes his cock deep into you. Your eyes roll back and Lucus turns his head to not see the finale play out.
König leans forward and kisses down your neck, biting you so hard he leaves a mark. He rests his body over yours, panting slightly.
.
.
Fully dressed you all stand by the door. You’re glowing. A huge smile on your face as you gaze at Father König with dreamy eyes. König reaches out and caresses your bottom lip with his thumb. Lucas stands there with a defeated look on his face, slightly dissociated in this moment as his mind tries to process what he witnessed.
“If this isn’t successful, my door is always open.” König grins at Lucas as he opens the door for you both.
Part 2
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itsawritblr · 9 months ago
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Holy shit, the New York Times is FINALLY interviewing and listening to detransistioners.
The tide is turning.
Opinion by Pamela Paul
As Kids, They Thought They Were Trans. They No Longer Do.
Feb. 2, 2024
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Grace Powell was 12 or 13 when she discovered she could be a boy.
Growing up in a relatively conservative community in Grand Rapids, Mich., Powell, like many teenagers, didn’t feel comfortable in her own skin. She was unpopular and frequently bullied. Puberty made everything worse. She suffered from depression and was in and out of therapy.
“I felt so detached from my body, and the way it was developing felt hostile to me,” Powell told me. It was classic gender dysphoria, a feeling of discomfort with your sex.
Reading about transgender people online, Powell believed that the reason she didn’t feel comfortable in her body was that she was in the wrong body. Transitioning seemed like the obvious solution. The narrative she had heard and absorbed was that if you don’t transition, you’ll kill yourself.
At 17, desperate to begin hormone therapy, Powell broke the news to her parents. They sent her to a gender specialist to make sure she was serious. In the fall of her senior year of high school, she started cross-sex hormones. She had a double mastectomy the summer before college, then went off as a transgender man named Grayson to Sarah Lawrence College, where she was paired with a male roommate on a men’s floor. At 5-foot-3, she felt she came across as a very effeminate gay man.
At no point during her medical or surgical transition, Powell says, did anyone ask her about the reasons behind her gender dysphoria or her depression. At no point was she asked about her sexual orientation. And at no point was she asked about any previous trauma, and so neither the therapists nor the doctors ever learned that she’d been sexually abused as a child.
“I wish there had been more open conversations,” Powell, now 23 and detransitioned, told me. “But I was told there is one cure and one thing to do if this is your problem, and this will help you.”
Progressives often portray the heated debate over childhood transgender care as a clash between those who are trying to help growing numbers of children express what they believe their genders to be and conservative politicians who won’t let kids be themselves.
But right-wing demagogues are not the only ones who have inflamed this debate. Transgender activists have pushed their own ideological extremism, especially by pressing for a treatment orthodoxy that has faced increased scrutiny in recent years. Under that model of care, clinicians are expected to affirm a young person’s assertion of gender identity and even provide medical treatment before, or even without, exploring other possible sources of distress.
Many who think there needs to be a more cautious approach — including well-meaning liberal parents, doctors and people who have undergone gender transition and subsequently regretted their procedures — have been attacked as anti-trans and intimidated into silencing their concerns.
And while Donald Trump denounces “left-wing gender insanity” and many trans activists describe any opposition as transphobic, parents in America’s vast ideological middle can find little dispassionate discussion of the genuine risks or trade-offs involved in what proponents call gender-affirming care.
Powell’s story shows how easy it is for young people to get caught up by the pull of ideology in this atmosphere.
“What should be a medical and psychological issue has been morphed into a political one,” Powell lamented during our conversation. “It’s a mess.”
A New and Growing Group of Patients
Many transgender adults are happy with their transitions and, whether they began to transition as adults or adolescents, feel it was life changing, even lifesaving. The small but rapidly growing number of children who express gender dysphoria and who transition at an early age, according to clinicians, is a recent and more controversial phenomenon.
Laura Edwards-Leeper, the founding psychologist of the first pediatric gender clinic in the United States, said that when she started her practice in 2007, most of her patients had longstanding and deep-seated gender dysphoria. Transitioning clearly made sense for almost all of them, and any mental health issues they had were generally resolved through gender transition.
“But that is just not the case anymore,” she told me recently. While she doesn’t regret transitioning the earlier cohort of patients and opposes government bans on transgender medical care, she said, “As far as I can tell, there are no professional organizations who are stepping in to regulate what’s going on.”
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Most of her patients now, she said, have no history of childhood gender dysphoria. Others refer to this phenomenon, with some controversy, as rapid onset gender dysphoria, in which adolescents, particularly tween and teenage girls, express gender dysphoria despite never having done so when they were younger. Frequently, they have mental health issues unrelated to gender. While professional associations say there is a lack of quality research on rapid onset gender dysphoria, several researchers have documented the phenomenon, and many health care providers have seen evidence of it in their practices.
“The population has changed drastically,” said Edwards-Leeper, a former head of the Child and Adolescent Committee for the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, the organization responsible for setting gender transition guidelines for medical professionals.
For these young people, she told me, “you have to take time to really assess what’s going on and hear the timeline and get the parents’ perspective in order to create an individualized treatment plan. Many providers are completely missing that step.”
Yet those health care professionals and scientists who do not think clinicians should automatically agree to a young person’s self-diagnosis are often afraid to speak out. A report commissioned by the National Health Service about Britain’s Tavistock gender clinic, which, until it was ordered to be shut down, was the country’s only health center dedicated to gender identity, noted that “primary and secondary care staff have told us that they feel under pressure to adopt an unquestioning affirmative approach and that this is at odds with the standard process of clinical assessment and diagnosis that they have been trained to undertake in all other clinical encounters.”
Of the dozens of students she’s trained as psychologists, Edwards-Leeper said, few still seem to be providing gender-related care. While her students have left the field for various reasons, “some have told me that they didn’t feel they could continue because of the pushback, the accusations of being transphobic, from being pro-assessment and wanting a more thorough process,” she said.
They have good reasons to be wary. Stephanie Winn, a licensed marriage and family therapist in Oregon, was trained in gender-affirming care and treated multiple transgender patients. But in 2020, after coming across detransition videos online, she began to doubt the gender-affirming model. In 2021 she spoke out in favor of approaching gender dysphoria in a more considered way, urging others in the field to pay attention to detransitioners, people who no longer consider themselves transgender after undergoing medical or surgical interventions. She has since been attacked by transgender activists. Some threatened to send complaints to her licensing board saying that she was trying to make trans kids change their minds through conversion therapy.
In April 2022, the Oregon Board of Licensed Professional Counselors and Therapists told Winn that she was under investigation. Her case was ultimately dismissed, but Winn no longer treats minors and practices only online, where many of her patients are worried parents of trans-identifying children.
“I don’t feel safe having a location where people can find me,” she said.
Detransitioners say that only conservative media outlets seem interested in telling their stories, which has left them open to attacks as hapless tools of the right, something that frustrated and dismayed every detransitioner I interviewed. These are people who were once the trans-identified kids that so many organizations say they’re trying to protect — but when they change their minds, they say, they feel abandoned.
Most parents and clinicians are simply trying to do what they think is best for the children involved. But parents with qualms about the current model of care are frustrated by what they see as a lack of options.
Parents told me it was a struggle to balance the desire to compassionately support a child with gender dysphoria while seeking the best psychological and medical care. Many believed their kids were gay or dealing with an array of complicated issues. But all said they felt compelled by gender clinicians, doctors, schools and social pressure to accede to their child’s declared gender identity even if they had serious doubts. They feared it would tear apart their family if they didn’t unquestioningly support social transition and medical treatment. All asked to speak anonymously, so desperate were they to maintain or repair any relationship with their children, some of whom were currently estranged.
Several of those who questioned their child’s self-diagnosis told me it had ruined their relationship. A few parents said simply, “I feel like I’ve lost my daughter.”
One mother described a meeting with 12 other parents in a support group for relatives of trans-identified youth where all of the participants described their children as autistic or otherwise neurodivergent. To all questions, the woman running the meeting replied, “Just let them transition.” The mother left in shock. How would hormones help a child with obsessive-compulsive disorder or depression? she wondered.
Some parents have found refuge in anonymous online support groups. There, people share tips on finding caregivers who will explore the causes of their children’s distress or tend to their overall emotional and developmental health and well-being without automatically acceding to their children’s self-diagnosis.
Many parents of kids who consider themselves trans say their children were introduced to transgender influencers on YouTube or TikTok, a phenomenon intensified for some by the isolation and online cocoon of Covid. Others say their kids learned these ideas in the classroom, as early as elementary school, often in child-friendly ways through curriculums supplied by trans rights organizations, with concepts like the gender unicorn or the Genderbread person.
‘Do You Want a Dead Son or a Live Daughter?’
After Kathleen’s 15-year-old son, whom she described as an obsessive child, abruptly told his parents he was trans, the doctor who was going to assess whether he had A.D.H.D. referred him instead to someone who specialized in both A.D.H.D. and gender. Kathleen, who asked to be identified only by her first name to protect her son’s privacy, assumed that the specialist would do some kind of evaluation or assessment. That was not the case.
The meeting was brief and began on a shocking note. “In front of my son, the therapist said, ‘Do you want a dead son or a live daughter?’” Kathleen recounted.
Parents are routinely warned that to pursue any path outside of agreeing with a child’s self-declared gender identity is to put a gender dysphoric youth at risk for suicide, which feels to many people like emotional blackmail. Proponents of the gender-affirming model have cited studies showing an association between that standard of care and a lower risk of suicide. But those studies were found to have methodological flaws or have been deemed not entirely conclusive. A survey of studies on the psychological effects of cross-sex hormones, published three years ago in The Journal of the Endocrine Society, the professional organization for hormone specialists, found it “could not draw any conclusions about death by suicide.” In a letter to The Wall Street Journal last year, 21 experts from nine countries said that survey was one reason they believed there was “no reliable evidence to suggest that hormonal transition is an effective suicide prevention measure.”
Moreover, the incidence of suicidal thoughts and attempts among gender dysphoric youth is complicated by the high incidence of accompanying conditions, such as autism spectrum disorder. As one systematic overview put it, “Children with gender dysphoria often experience a range of psychiatric comorbidities, with a high prevalence of mood and anxiety disorders, trauma, eating disorders and autism spectrum conditions, suicidality and self-harm.”
But rather than being treated as patients who deserve unbiased professional help, children with gender dysphoria often become political pawns.
Conservative lawmakers are working to ban access to gender care for minors and occasionally for adults as well. On the other side, however, many medical and mental health practitioners feel their hands have been tied by activist pressure and organizational capture. They say that it has become difficult to practice responsible mental health care or medicine for these young people.
Pediatricians, psychologists and other clinicians who dissent from this orthodoxy, believing that it is not based on reliable evidence, feel frustrated by their professional organizations. The American Psychological Association, American Psychiatric Association and the American Academy of Pediatrics have wholeheartedly backed the gender-affirming model.
In 2021, Aaron Kimberly, a 50-year-old trans man and registered nurse, left the clinic in British Columbia where his job focused on the intake and assessment of gender-dysphoric youth. Kimberly received a comprehensive screening when he embarked on his own successful transition at age 33, which resolved the gender dysphoria he experienced from an early age.
But when the gender-affirming model was introduced at his clinic, he was instructed to support the initiation of hormone treatment for incoming patients regardless of whether they had complex mental problems, experiences with trauma or were otherwise “severely unwell,” Kimberly said. When he referred patients for further mental health care rather than immediate hormone treatment, he said he was accused of what they called gatekeeping and had to change jobs.
“I realized something had gone totally off the rails,” Kimberly, who subsequently founded the Gender Dysphoria Alliance and the L.G.B.T. Courage Coalition to advocate better gender care, told me.
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Gay men and women often told me they fear that same-sex-attracted kids, especially effeminate boys and tomboy girls who are gender nonconforming, will be transitioned during a normal phase of childhood and before sexual maturation — and that gender ideology can mask and even abet homophobia.
As one detransitioned man, now in a gay relationship, put it, “I was a gay man pumped up to look like a woman and dated a lesbian who was pumped up to look like a man. If that’s not conversion therapy, I don’t know what is.”
“I transitioned because I didn’t want to be gay,” Kasey Emerick, a 23-year-old woman and detransitioner from Pennsylvania, told me. Raised in a conservative Christian church, she said, “I believed homosexuality was a sin.”
When she was 15, Emerick confessed her homosexuality to her mother. Her mother attributed her sexual orientation to trauma — Emerick’s father was convicted of raping and assaulting her repeatedly when she was between the ages of 4 and 7 — but after catching Emerick texting with another girl at age 16, she took away her phone. When Emerick melted down, her mother admitted her to a psychiatric hospital. While there, Emerick told herself, “If I was a boy, none of this would have happened.”
In May 2017, Emerick began searching “gender” online and encountered trans advocacy websites. After realizing she could “pick the other side,” she told her mother, “I’m sick of being called a dyke and not a real girl.” If she were a man, she’d be free to pursue relationships with women.
That September, she and her mother met with a licensed professional counselor for the first of two 90-minute consultations. She told the counselor that she had wished to be a Boy Scout rather than a Girl Scout. She said she didn’t like being gay or a butch lesbian. She also told the counselor that she had suffered from anxiety, depression and suicidal ideation. The clinic recommended testosterone, which was prescribed by a nearby L.G.B.T.Q. health clinic. Shortly thereafter, she was also diagnosed with A.D.H.D. She developed panic attacks. At age 17, she was cleared for a double mastectomy.
“I’m thinking, ‘Oh my God, I’m having my breasts removed. I’m 17. I’m too young for this,’” she recalled. But she went ahead with the operation.
“Transition felt like a way to control something when I couldn’t control anything in my life,” Emerick explained. But after living as a trans man for five years, Emerick realized her mental health symptoms were only getting worse. In the fall of 2022, she came out as a detransitioner on Twitter and was immediately attacked. Transgender influencers told her she was bald and ugly. She received multiple threats.
“I thought my life was over,” she said. “I realized that I had lived a lie for over five years.”
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Today Emerick’s voice, permanently altered by testosterone, is that of a man. When she tells people she’s a detransitioner, they ask when she plans to stop taking T and live as a woman. “I’ve been off it for a year,” she replies.
Once, after she recounted her story to a therapist, the therapist tried to reassure her. If it’s any consolation, the therapist remarked, “I would never have guessed that you were once a trans woman.” Emerick replied, “Wait, what sex do you think I am?”
To the trans activist dictum that children know their gender best, it is important to add something all parents know from experience: Children change their minds all the time. One mother told me that after her teenage son desisted — pulled back from a trans identity before any irreversible medical procedures — he explained, “I was just rebelling. I look at it like a subculture, like being goth.”
“The job of children and adolescents is to experiment and explore where they fit into the world, and a big part of that exploration, especially during adolescence, is around their sense of identity,” Sasha Ayad, a licensed professional counselor based in Phoenix, told me. “Children at that age often present with a great deal of certainty and urgency about who they believe they are at the time and things they would like to do in order to enact that sense of identity.”
Ayad, a co-author of “When Kids Say They’re Trans: A Guide for Thoughtful Parents,” advises parents to be wary of the gender affirmation model. “We’ve always known that adolescents are particularly malleable in relationship to their peers and their social context and that exploration is often an attempt to navigate difficulties of that stage, such as puberty, coming to terms with the responsibilities and complications of young adulthood, romance and solidifying their sexual orientation,” she told me. For providing this kind of exploratory approach in her own practice with gender dysphoric youth, Ayad has had her license challenged twice, both times by adults who were not her patients. Both times, the charges were dismissed.
Studies show that around eight in 10 cases of childhood gender dysphoria resolve themselves by puberty and 30 percent of people on hormone therapy discontinue its use within four years, though the effects, including infertility, are often irreversible.
Proponents of early social transition and medical interventions for gender dysphoric youth cite a 2022 study showing that 98 percent of children who took both puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones continued treatment for short periods, and another study that tracked 317 children who socially transitioned between the ages of 3 and 12, which found that 94 percent of them still identified as transgender five years later. But such early interventions may cement children’s self-conceptions without giving them time to think or sexually mature.
‘The Process of Transition Didn’t Make Me Feel Better’
At the end of her freshman year of college, Grace Powell, horrifically depressed, began dissociating, feeling detached from her body and from reality, which had never happened to her before. Ultimately, she said, “the process of transition didn’t make me feel better. It magnified what I found was wrong with myself.”
“I expected it to change everything, but I was just me, with a slightly deeper voice,” she added. “It took me two years to start detransitioning and living as Grace again.”
She tried in vain to find a therapist who would treat her underlying issues, but they kept asking her: How do you want to be seen? Do you want to be nonbinary? Powell wanted to talk about her trauma, not her identity or her gender presentation. She ended up getting online therapy from a former employee of the Tavistock clinic in Britain. This therapist, a woman who has broken from the gender-affirming model, talked Grace through what she sees as her failure to launch and her efforts to reset. The therapist asked questions like: Who is Grace? What do you want from your life? For the first time, Powell felt someone was seeing and helping her as a person, not simply looking to slot her into an identity category.
Many detransitioners say they face ostracism and silencing because of the toxic politics around transgender issues.
“It is extraordinarily frustrating to feel that something I am is inherently political,” Powell told me. “I’ve been accused multiple times that I’m some right-winger who’s making a fake narrative to discredit transgender people, which is just crazy.”
While she believes there are people who benefit from transitioning, “I wish more people would understand that there’s not a one-size-fits-all solution,” she said. “I wish we could have that conversation.”
In a recent study in The Archives of Sexual Behavior, about 40 young detransitioners out of 78 surveyed said they had suffered from rapid onset gender dysphoria. Trans activists have fought hard to suppress any discussion of rapid onset gender dysphoria, despite evidence that the condition is real. In its guide for journalists, the activist organization GLAAD warns the media against using the term, as it is not “a formal condition or diagnosis.” Human Rights Campaign, another activist group, calls it “a right-wing theory.” A group of professional organizations put out a statement urging clinicians to eliminate the term from use.
Nobody knows how many young people desist after social, medical or surgical transitions. Trans activists often cite low regret rates for gender transition, along with low figures for detransition. But those studies, which often rely on self-reported cases to gender clinics, likely understate the actual numbers. None of the seven detransitioners I interviewed, for instance, even considered reporting back to the gender clinics that prescribed them medication they now consider to have been a mistake. Nor did they know any other detransitioners who had done so.
As Americans furiously debate the basis of transgender care, a number of advances in understanding have taken place in Europe, where the early Dutch studies that became the underpinning of gender-affirming care have been broadly questioned and criticized. Unlike some of the current population of gender dysphoric youth, the Dutch study participants had no serious psychological conditions. Those studies were riddled with methodological flaws and weaknesses. There was no evidence that any intervention was lifesaving. There was no long-term follow-up with any of the study’s 55 participants or the 15 who dropped out. A British effort to replicate the study said that it “identified no changes in psychological function” and that more studies were needed.
In countries like Sweden, Norway, France, the Netherlands and Britain — long considered exemplars of gender progress — medical professionals have recognized that early research on medical interventions for childhood gender dysphoria was either faulty or incomplete. Last month, the World Health Organization, in explaining why it is developing “a guideline on the health of trans and gender diverse people,” said it will cover only adults because “the evidence base for children and adolescents is limited and variable regarding the longer-term outcomes of gender-affirming care for children and adolescents.”
But in America, and Canada, the results of those widely criticized Dutch studies are falsely presented to the public as settled science.
Other countries have recently halted or limited the medical and surgical treatment of gender dysphoric youth, pending further study. Britain’s Tavistock clinic was ordered to be shut down next month, after a National Health Service-commissioned investigation found deficiencies in service and “a lack of consensus and open discussion about the nature of gender dysphoria and therefore about the appropriate clinical response.”
Meanwhile, the American medical establishment has hunkered down, stuck in an outdated model of gender affirmation. The American Academy of Pediatrics only recently agreed to conduct more research in response to yearslong efforts by dissenting experts, including Dr. Julia Mason, a self-described “bleeding-heart liberal.”
The larger threat to transgender people comes from Republicans who wish to deny them rights and protections. But the doctrinal rigidity of the progressive wing of the Democratic Party is disappointing, frustrating and counterproductive.
“I was always a liberal Democrat,” one woman whose son desisted after social transition and hormone therapy told me. “Now I feel politically homeless.”
She noted that the Biden administration has “unequivocally” supported gender-affirming care for minors, in cases in which it deems it “medically appropriate and necessary.” Rachel Levine, the assistant secretary for health at the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, told NPR in 2022 that “there is no argument among medical professionals — pediatricians, pediatric endocrinologists, adolescent medicine physicians, adolescent psychiatrists, psychologists, et cetera — about the value and the importance of gender-affirming care.”
Of course, politics should not influence medical practice, whether the issue is birth control, abortion or gender medicine. But unfortunately, politics has gotten in the way of progress. Last year The Economist published a thorough investigation into America’s approach to gender medicine. Zanny Minton Beddoes, the editor, put the issue into political context. “If you look internationally at countries in Europe, the U.K. included, their medical establishments are much more concerned,” Beddoes told Vanity Fair. “But here — in part because this has become wrapped up in the culture wars where you have, you know, crazy extremes from the Republican right — if you want to be an upstanding liberal, you feel like you can’t say anything.”
Some people are trying to open up that dialogue, or at least provide outlets for kids and families to seek a more therapeutic approach to gender dysphoria.
Paul Garcia-Ryan is a psychotherapist in New York who cares for kids and families seeking holistic, exploratory care for gender dysphoria. He is also a detransitioner who from ages 15 to 30 fully believed he was a woman.
Garcia-Ryan is gay, but as a boy, he said, “it was much less threatening to my psyche to think that I was a straight girl born into the wrong body — that I had a medical condition that could be tended to.” When he visited a clinic at 15, the clinician immediately affirmed he was female, and rather than explore the reasons for his mental distress, simply confirmed Garcia-Ryan’s belief that he was not meant to be a man.
Once in college, he began medically transitioning and eventually had surgery on his genitals. Severe medical complications from both the surgery and hormone medication led him to reconsider what he had done, and to detransition. He also reconsidered the basis of gender affirmation, which, as a licensed clinical social worker at a gender clinic, he had been trained in and provided to clients.
“You’re made to believe these slogans,” he said. “Evidence-based, lifesaving care, safe and effective, medically necessary, the science is settled — and none of that is evidence based.”
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Garcia-Ryan, 32, is now the board president of Therapy First, an organization that supports therapists who do not agree with the gender affirmation model. He thinks transition can help some people manage the symptoms of gender dysphoria but no longer believes anyone under 25 should socially, medically or surgically transition without exploratory psychotherapy first.
“When a professional affirms a gender identity for a younger person, what they are doing is implementing a psychological intervention that narrows a person’s sense of self and closes off their options for considering what’s possible for them,” Garcia-Ryan told me.
Instead of promoting unproven treatments for children, which surveys show many Americans are uncomfortable with, transgender activists would be more effective if they focused on a shared agenda. Most Americans across the political spectrum can agree on the need for legal protections for transgender adults. They would also probably support additional research on the needs of young people reporting gender dysphoria so that kids could get the best treatment possible.
A shift in this direction would model tolerance and acceptance. It would prioritize compassion over demonization. It would require rising above culture-war politics and returning to reason. It would be the most humane path forward. And it would be the right thing to do.
*~*~*~*~*~*
For those who want tor ead more by those fighting the cancellation forquestioning, read:
Graham Lineham, who's been fighting since the beginning and paid the price, but is not seeing things turn around.
The Glinner Update, Grahan Linehan's Substack.
Kellie-Jay Keen @ThePosieParker, who's been physically attacked for organizing events for women demanding women-only spaces.
REDUXX, Feminst news & opinion.
Gays Against Groomers @againstgrmrs, A nonprofit of gay people and others within the community against the sexualization, indoctrination and medicalization of children under the guise of "LGBTQIA+"
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holylulusworld · 1 month ago
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Election Time (1)
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Summary: You thought he was your forever.
Pairing: Senator!Tony Stark x Wife!Reader, Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: heavy angst, language, wish for a child, betrayal, failed marriage, soft Bucky
Square filled for @buckybingo (expired): Square 7: Politics AU
Square filled for: @julybreakbingo (expired): Square 10: Betrayal fic
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You force a smile on your face and nod politely. The reporters cannot know you’re about to throw up at the thought of smiling for six more years.
Tony promised his last election campaign would be the last one. He lied, as so often. Over the years, Tony pledged to you so many things.
A quieter life. The end of his political career after six long years of having a public relationship. Children.
Your husband didn’t keep his promises, and you still didn’t get pregnant even after months of trying. The reassurance from your doctor that you’re healthy and fertile did nothing to help you keep your hopes high.
“What’s the secret of your happy marriage?” An ambitious young reporter asks. She was smiling at Tony like a love-sick puppy the whole time, and now she tries to land a punch.
Rumors about your possible infertility and Tony flirting with his election campaign manager Pepper Potts spread by Tony’s concurrent didn’t make your life easier.
“Love and devotion,” Tony answers before you get the chance to respond. “Honesty and support.” He says it without missing a beat. Ever the perfect politician—or liar—depends on if you are a reporter or his wife.
Again, you nod and smile like a perfectly trained dog. Tony grabs your hand, raising your arm with his to strike a winner pose. You wince because he forgot about the injury on your shoulder. The one you got because he wanted to try a new sex position, only to drop you.
A pair of steel-blue eyes watch Tony and you. Your bodyguard squares his jaw, watching your face contort in pain. He pushes off the wall to whisper something in the head of the security's ear.
“Senator, we should head out now,” Steve, the head of security, looks at Tony. “Sir, we are running late.”
“Right,” Tony clears his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he flashes everyone a stunning smile, “thank you for coming. I hope you vote for the right man in four weeks.”
Applause follows. It always does. Tony Stark is the kind of man drawing people in like the flame draws in the moth.
He finally drops his arm, releasing your hand. You struggle to keep a straight face and not wince again. Hiding your pain, you take deep breaths when someone holds out his hand. Bucky, your bodyguard, helps you down the tribune.
Tony is already chatting up Steve to make sure he checks every spot at the orphanage. As if anyone would try to attack your husband while he shakes the hands of some kids.
“Mrs. Senator,” Bucky chuckles when you make a face at his nickname for you. “Do you want to take the same car?”
“Not today. Tony wants to discuss his campaign with Pepper,” you shrug. It’s not unusual for you and Tony to drive in separate cars. “I can use the break, to be honest.”
“You shoulder,” Bucky softly says. He carefully touches your shoulder. “I’ve got something in the trunk to help you with that. It helps me with the scar tissue at my shoulder, too.”
“Always prepared, aren’t you?” you flash Bucky the first genuine smile. “Let’s go, Dozer.”
“That name again,” he laughs as he guides you out of the back of the building. Tony prefers to use the front entrance to bathe in applause and to give autographs. You are, as always, only an accessory to him. He forgot about you the moment he left the town.
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Inside the car, you sigh deeply. It’s the first time you can breathe today. You close your eyes and take deep breaths while Bucky rubs pain gel into your skin. He kneads out the knots and kinks in your shoulders and neck.
“Hmm…you’ve got magic hands, Dozer.”
“I only ran through a door once, Y/N,” Bucky chides. “If I remember right, it was because you screamed.”
“It was a huge spider, Bucky,” you giggle when he grunts. “You threatened to shoot it.”
“I did shoot it,” he corrects while gently rubbing your skin. “You applauded and got me ice cream.”
“You saved me that day.” You smile to yourself. “And many more times since then. Not with your gun, but because you’re always there for me.”
“That’s my job.” He says, making it sound so nonchalantly. As if he doesn’t risk his life to protect you every day.
“Hmm,” you nod. “I should call Tony. He wanted to tell me which outfit to wear for the kids.”
Bucky makes a face but doesn’t say a thing. He watches you button up your blouse and presses his lips into a thin line. Bucky would never tell you so, but he despises your husband and the way he treats you.
“Tons, hey,” you huff when Tony mutters into the phone. He wanted you to call him, only to tell you he must talk to Pepper first. “Fine, just call me if you’re done.”
You drop your phone onto the seat and sigh deeply. Bucky grabs the phone to end the call when you hear Pepper’s voice. Tony must’ve forgotten to turn off the loudspeaker.
“So, are you still as happy as you pretend you are?” She asks, making you frown. How dare that woman ask your husband this kind of question? “Tony, look at me.”
“I’m just trying to keep up the façade until past the election. We are over for months, if not a year,” he casually says while your world shatters. Your eyes widen, and you press your hand to your mouth when you choke out a sob.
Bucky wants to end the call, but you shake your head. You opened Pandora’s box, and now you want to hear everything.
“I heard you’re trying for a baby.” She presses on, making you wince when Tony tells her he never planned on having a baby. It would only distract him from his goal to become president one day. “How did you not get her pregnant if you’re trying for a baby?” She huffs.
“I talked her doctor into prescribing her birth control, but to tell her that it’s vitamins,” Tony reveals. All those months you believed it was your fault you could not get pregnant. Now you know why you didn’t get pregnant. Tony manipulated your plans out of selfishness.
Tears roll down your face when Bucky brings you into his arm to let you cry into his chest. You whimper and choke out a sob, hearing Tony talk casually about his betrayal. You know your marriage got rocky lately, but this is no reason to lie to you.
Bucky ends the call. He doesn’t want you to
“Do you want to go home?” He asks lowly. “Y/N? Where do you want to go? I hope you don’t plan on attending that shitshow.”
“I… I don’t know,” you sniffle. “All I know is that I can’t go home. I can never go home again."
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Tags in reblog.
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shawnxstyles · 2 years ago
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please, call me peter
DATE: JANUARY 6, 2023
summary: you haven’t been able to come with anyone besides yourself, making you think something’s wrong with you. once you go to the gynecologist, dr. parker shows you that you’re just fine.
request: yes yes
words: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering], dub-con, small praise kink, dirty talking), and a cute ending.
note: shooting out requests like webs. sorry that was lame. if this makes you uncomfortable, do not read.
gynecologist!peter x female!reader
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Your eyes scan the white room while you sit impatiently. Your heart lightly thuds in your chest and your fingers drum rapidly along your clothed thigh. The nurse had asked if you wanted to change into a hospital gown, which you politely denied. She gave you an indifferent expression before walking out, leaving you here.
You were at the gynecologist for one concerning reason; every time you had sex, you couldn’t come. Your previous relationship ended because you were unable to reach that euphoric high, which you believed was a ridiculous reason to leave someone. You weren’t as sad as you thought you’d be because you were too concerned with your own well-being to dwell on some bloke.
Before heading to the doctor, you had a quick hook-up, assuming that you and your ex just weren’t sexually compatible. But then you were proved wrong when you didn’t come. Again. You weren’t really the hook-up type, in fear of catching some unwanted disease or infection. Finally, you took matters into your own hands, literally, and masturbated with your fingers until you orgasmed all over your bed sheets.
See? It wasn’t impossible.
Then why couldn’t you come with other people? It had to be your fault. It had to be.
So, again, you were left here in the small hospital room sitting between empty stirrups with your ankles tightly crossed. The widening of the wooden door alerted you, your eyes shooting towards the man entering the room.
A guy? Your gynecologist was a guy?
You knew you were a decently healthy person because you were always on track with your appointments, even small check-ups. Because of your good wellness, you had never needed to go to the gyno. Until now, which seemed a bit nerve-racking all of a sudden.
The second the doctor turned around, you knew exactly why.
Warm, brown eyes peer at you with tenderness. Chestnut curls rest upon his head a little messily, but in the cutest way. He wore a professional lab coat over his casual clothing. His ribbed shirt and blue jeans seemed to match him perfectly. His cheeks appear a tinge pink when he smiles, welcoming and greeting you.
Oh shit.
“I’m Dr. Parker, and you are?” Dr. Parker asks as he plops onto his spinny chair. His eyes stare deeply into yours, causing your heart to race more than you’d like to admit. His voice was as attractive as his face, and you tried to convince yourself that he had to have at least one bad quality that you just haven’t seen yet, so you didn’t soak your panties.
“Y/N,” You blink to wash away the feeling of your nerves as your palms get clammy. “but you probably knew that already.”
“That is true, but I like for my patients to introduce themselves to me directly,” He states simply and you nod in response. Your sweaty hands interlocked over your thighs to ease yourself.
“So, what brings you in here today, Y/N?” Dr. Parker questions with a lick of his lips. He can’t help himself when his eyes drift nonchalantly, but quickly down your body. You were beautiful, which made it hard to concentrate on anything else, especially when you started talking. Your voice was silky, and he wanted to ask you more questions just so he could hear it more.
“I…” You were a bit embarrassed to share your reasoning. Was it common? Will he laugh at you? No, of course not, he’s a doctor! You battled with yourself in your head before spitting it out. “I can’t come during sex.”
Your jaw clenched as your hand practically hit your forehead in embarrassment. You couldn’t look at him because he was probably holding back a laugh. But you also couldn’t look at him because he was so handsome you might melt.
True be told, Peter already knew why you were here. He read the small report the nurse got before he entered. It was part of protocol and he wanted to hear you describe it yourself.
“That’s okay, darling. Nothing to be ashamed of,” He reassures gently as you remove your hand from your face. He smiles sincerely and you smile bashfully back. The nickname erupts butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t disregard the small wetness you feel trickle in your underwear.
When he asks, you go on to explain your situation in detail, even including the part about your ex-boyfriend dumping you. When Peter hears this, his jaw subtly clenches as irritation spreads through him.
Who breaks up with someone for that? He wanted to ask, but knew that was probably inappropriate. He does need to question you professionally though to ensure there’s nothing wrong. However, he thinks he already knows the answer.
“I’m going to ask you some questions that get pretty personal,” Parker faces his notes with you in the corner of his eye. You nod as your nervousness never fades and your heart beat remains quite fast.
Most of his questions were simple and straightforward, so you weren’t too ashamed to answer.
“Do you have any pain?”
“No.”
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Two years,” You eyes strayed away from him, thumbs twiddling in your lap like an anxious child. He wonders how you got birth control without going to the gynecologist in the past, seeming as though you’ve had no history.
However, some questions made the heat rise to your cheeks. Your arousal worsened the more Dr. Parker spoke, his voice warm and soothing like honey.
“To clarify, you have orgasmed before, correct?” Peter was able to focus when his eyes were glued to his papers, but one glance at your adorable shyness and his cock was semi-hard in his boxers.
“Yes, I-I did it myself,” You hissed at yourself for stuttering. He made you so starstruck it was hard to form words. You didn’t meet many people like that in your life— now that you think of it, none at all. He surveys you for a moment you think was a little too long, and you tighten your ankles together at his burning gaze.
“Um,” He grunts, covering it up with a cough as his cheeks turn pink a tad more. Your lip subtly curls into a smile at his cuteness. Peter was nervous for the first time in a while, fingers shaking as he scribbled notes about you. He felt as silly as a child who had a crush on a classmate. “you seem very well.”
“So nothing’s wrong?” Your eyebrows crinkle in confusion, a lost expression cascading over your face when you feel like you’ve hit a dead end. You gaze at the floor, trying to understand.
“Not directly,” He says to reassure you. Your eyes meet his with a head tilt. Now, you were really confused.
“What do I do then?”
“Don’t have sex with idiots,” He grumbles, honestly hoping you didn’t hear it. But of course you did. Your heart rate quickens wildly in your chest at his blunt statement. “but to make sure, I’m going to check you, okay?”
Your eyes widen for a moment, not thinking you would have to be checked. Your thoughts immediately shoot to your soaked panties and how he’ll see your very visual arousal. Hopefully, he assumes it’s from nerves.
“Would you like to change into something more comfortable and accessible?” He asks, looking at your shirt with jean shorts. He checks most of his patients, so usually they would have been in a gown already. But at this hospital, the patient didn’t have to change, even though it was highly recommended. However, when they rarely denied the new wardrobe, the doctor had to undress the patient themselves. So far in Peter’s career, he’s only had to do that with incidents that were an emergency.
“No, thank you,” You answered with no explanation. Secretly, you hated the material of the gown and you swore it gave you rashes. Maybe you were allergic?
Dr. Parker nods once and turns to his little side table beside you. He slips on his blue gloves and tells you exactly what he’s going to do, so you’re not unprepared.
“And since you’re not in a gown, the protocol is that I must undress you myself,” Peter feels the burning red flame up his cheeks at his statement. Your eyes widen again at the image of the sensual action, but nod in understanding.
Who made that rule? You wanted to ask, but it seemed disrespectful. You honestly couldn’t tell if you loved or hated the person that invented that idea. Picturing Dr. Parker strip you only made a pool in your panties.
Peter’s gloved fingers unbutton and zip down your jean shorts with your permission. It was slow and steady, unlike your heart that was bouncing off the walls of your ribs. You know he could see your heavy breathing as your stomach rose up and down too quickly under the thin material of your shirt.
Your shorts were removed and then he was on to your underwear.
Peter’s cock pulsed in his jeans at the wet patch on your panties, his red blush never fading. He wanted to press the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit. He would rub you over the flimsy fabric and then make you moan for him as he fucked you roughly with his fingers. He could assume that you were tight and tense because of your struggle to orgasm with another person, but the thought only made his cock twitch needily as he imagined you squeezing around him.
“Are you okay so far? And can I remove these?” He asks for consent and patiently waits. You nod, but he’s not having that. “Words, Y/N. I need you to say it.”
His demand caused you to clench around nothing as you stutter out a trembling yes, so he can proceed. Peter delicately removes your panties, sliding them down your supple legs and placing them with your shorts. You didn’t open your legs, but you knew he’d already seen the wetness leaking out of you.
“Okay, um,” His professionalism was fading from him. He wanted to devour you because you probably tasted amazing. The smell of your arousal filled his nostrils, making it hard to focus on anything. “Put your legs on these stirrups. I’ll help you.”
He guides your legs into the holders, strongly resisting the urge to gawk at your vulnerable area. Once you were settled, he looked down and nearly came right there. Arousal drowned your folds as your puffy clit poked out behind it all. He noticed the fluttering of your folds as the cold air hit your wetness. He wouldn’t need to use any lube on you for sure. Peter was losing his cool and was about to lose everything if he did not pull himself together.
“I’m about to start. Are you okay?” He could sense your nervousness from a mile away. He wanted to make sure you were okay, even if you’ve had sex multiple times before.
“Yes, doctor,” You reassure and his jaw subtly locks at his label leaving from your mouth. He avoids picturing his falling from your pretty lips, so he could focus on the task at hand. You didn’t notice, too caught up in your own thoughts of his fingers entering you. You wanted him to pound them into you mercilessly because you know he’d know all the right spots and special places to hit. You can imagine he’s soft and caring, and always gives immense pleasure to the woman.
You almost gasp aloud when you come to a realization; he probably has a girlfriend. Or a wife. A wife and kids. You don’t remember seeing a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. Oh, God, you were daydreaming sexual thoughts about your gynecologist who would probably freak out if he could hear them.
“If it makes you more comfortable, my name is Peter. Sometimes that small detail helps the patients relax more,” He noticed your sudden panicked state and high tension in your legs, wanting to calm you down, so it doesn’t hurt. It was perfectly fine to be nervous, but it wasn’t fine for him to be this nervous. He’s a professional doctor, yet he’s thinking about ruining it all just to please you at this moment.
You feel the latex gloves graze your folds, making your heart jump up into your throat. Peter’s middle finger practically teases your entrance, and you hold back pathetic whimpers. Once he slips his middle finger inside, you release a shuddery moan. His finger stills, deep inside of you while he gives you a second to adjust.
“Relax for me,” You try not to clench around him, but you’re a lost cause when he begins to wiggle it around the tight space. Peter is struggling. His cock is about to burst at the seams while his middle finger sinks far inside you. Your clenching walls and hushed noises nearly make him moan. He sees you resisting the urge to moan and it’s killing him because he wants to hear you.
“You can moan,” Peter says, voice low and sultry. “It’s welcomed.” He curls his finger and slowly pushes in and out. You don’t hold back your moan this time as lust begins to fill your vision. It feels too good, even though you know it’s wrong. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter at his skilled finger and his concentrated expression.
Peter is positive you’re enjoying this. He can’t resist you anymore when he has you spread open for him. Plus, he found nothing peculiar inside, you seemed healthy. He could stop now if he’d like, but the contraction of your pussy walls around his finger and the sweet whimpers you’re eliciting spur him to continue.
“How does this feel, Y/N?” Peter’s voice was gravelly and lustful; you were sure to catch on by now. His question was borderline professional, yet inappropriate. At this point, Peter couldn’t care less because your face said it all.
“Good, really good,” You admitted with fluttering eyes as your hands gripped the sides of your shirt. Your name out of his mouth made you melt into his touch as you instinctively grinded your hips into his hand.
“What about this?” His ring finger slides in effortlessly, and they both curl inside you. You gasp, eliciting another shaky moan. His digits were thick and just the right length to satisfy you without even needing his cock, even though you wanted it. “God, you’re so tight. Imagine what you’d feel like around my cock.” He grumbles.
You gasp at his sudden profound language, but the dirtiness only made you more aroused. Your brain imagined how his cock would look buried so deep inside of you that you’d feel him in your stomach. You imagine this pre-cum leaking from his tip as he pulls out of you just to slam back in. Your core tensed at the thought.
“I didn’t hear you, Y/N,” He grunts gravelly, slowing his movements. He slips his fingers out, removing the glove swiftly. You whine at the emptiness, answering him. He was so sweet, yet dirty, and you loved it.
“So good! It feels so good, please don’t stop,” You plead and he smirks in satisfaction as he continues. His thumb rolls over your puffy clit, making your hips press into his hand as he slips back in. Your thighs contracted as they begged to close, but the locked stirrups blocked you from doing so.
“Who’s making you feel this good?” His tone was smooth and clear, almost contradicting his sinful actions. His pace becomes brutal, ramming in and out of you with no mercy. The rough texture of his bare hand sends a shiver up your spine as your orgasm nears.
“You! You, Peter,” Your chest heaves as choked moans leave your lips. His digits rub your throbbing nerves as his fingers glide against your walls addictingly good. Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of your trembling thighs. His lips raise in another smirk as his cheeks flush that familiar pink. “I’m close, Peter,” You whimper, causing him to hiss at the harsh pulsing of his shaft when his name falls delicately from your lips just how he imagined.
“I know, honey. Can feel you clenching around me,” He groans when you release another noise of pleasure. His eyes wander down to your aching cunt as his fingers become drenched in your juices. You’re squeezing him torturously, on the edge of your break.
“Are you gonna come? Gonna come for me?”
Without another moment, your orgasm ripples through your body with a blissful wail. Clenched muscles and screwed eyes don’t even express the full ecstasy you feel. White liquid saturates Peter’s bare fingers before he licks them clean. It wasn’t the most sanitary, but he didn’t give one fuck.
Your face screams fucked out; perspired skin, droopy eyes, and a weary smile. In his ideal situation, he would have devoured you until you couldn’t take it anymore. But that was for another time. If there ever was another time, which he hoped there would be.
Just maybe not in a hospital.
“Well, Y/N, it seems like you are very healthy,” Peter grins, taking the tissues to clean you thoroughly. You can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks at his joking comment.
“Thanks, doctor,” Your voice came out a bit squeaky while your heart continued to stammer in your chest.
“After that, I think you should call me Peter,” He chuckles, sliding away in his stool to discard the tissues. Heat burns your skin from his adorable laugh.
“Peter it is then,” He helps you down the stirrups and you begin to get dressed with a goofy smile curling on your face. Peter doesn’t fail to notice this as his thoughts begin to wander. He knows he just met you, but he wants to see where this goes. He is confident that you’re interested in him (at least enough for him to finger you), so maybe asking you out isn’t the crazy idea he’s ever had.
“Y/N?” Suddenly, he didn’t feel so confident.
“Yeah?” Your response was breathless.
“Would you, um,” Peter hesitated to find the words. He really was like a little kid talking to his crush for the first time. “like to go out sometime? Maybe?”
You admire his bashfulness. He anxiously rolls up his coat sleeves while his face displaces a rosy blush. His brown eyes twinkled with hope as he waited for a reply.
“I would like that, doctor,” You smile genuinely and sweetly, your joyful energy calming his pent-up nerves. “I mean Peter.” You giggle when he blushes.
“Okay, okay, this is great. Here’s my number,” Peter scribbles messily on a small sheet of note paper, handing it to you. It was adorable how nervous he was for being a well-respected doctor who waltzed in with a sweet kind of confidence. You were giddy as well, but you were way better at hiding it clearly. You snatch the sheet with your fingers, tucking it away in your palm.
“Do you do this with all your patients, Dr. Parker?” You tease with a quirked eyebrow and a pointed finger at his chest. Peter huffs out a chuckle while clicking his tongue.
“Only the most beautiful ones,” He gently lifts your finger, kissing it gently before striding out of the room. Peter doesn’t forget to leave an arrogant wink as the heavy, wooden door closes abruptly.
Maybe being a doctor does make him arrogant. Sometimes.
You stand frozen, starstruck. Your breathing was back to heaving again because he left you breathless. And speechless. You jokingly wondered for a minute if you would die from a heart attack, due to the rapid thumping of a stupid organ against your ribs. Curious, you open your palm and unfold the slip of paper he wrote hastingly. Glancing past the number, you notice the small words underneath.
Please, call me Peter.
yesss tell me what you think :)
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apas-95 · 3 months ago
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I’m an anarchocommunist that thinks a lot of other anarchists are stupid. For example, I don’t think that most people will just make insulin or do garbage collection/processing out of the kindness of their heart, and I also don’t think if it was genuinely done out of the kindness of their hearts that it’d work great. My idea is that for the “getting people to do the shitty jobs” question, the people that do those jobs should be compensated better in some way. Maybe a larger/nicer house, I’m not sure on the details. But other anarchists will say “all labor is equal”, and while I’d like to agree in the “work is hard” sense, I think things for the obvious common good, like teacher or garbage man or doctor deserve some sort of reward over other jobs. And for the efficiency of the labor, I think *specifically for labor* there needs to be some sort of organization, and we can use what’s worked before. We don’t need to have bathtub insulin if there’s a factory right there, and if there’s no connection from the insulin factory to doctors/pharmacists and truck drivers then it won’t work either. Really, my main problem with Marxism/Leninism or Stalinism or Maoism or any combination of those is that there are specific people with far too much power over others. I’m ok with light power in the way of “man you gotta drive the firetruck to the burning building even though you hate the dude that lives there”, but I’m not ok with the idea of a supreme leader or representatives in a political sense due to as I’ve amounts of power obviously corrupting people.
Really I’m sending this to you to get your criticism of my ideas- I think you’re pretty smart, and even if I disagree with you on some issues, I think I agree with you on others. I also want to say that not all anarchists are… like that.
So, years ago, before I started reading any Marxist theory, this is about where I was at politically. If you think about any of the practicalities, you come up to points where, very clearly, the maxim of 'no authority at all' conflicts with being able to do anything. If you're seriously considering how society could be better organised, if this is something you actually intend on bringing about, then you make some amount of concession to reality - as you did with the firetruck example!
Now, myself, I went on like this for a good while, coming up with methods of truly democratic organisation that wouldn't be susceptible to the types of totalitarianism I'd heard about, ending up very similar to your position. I was interested, however, in how these 'failed experiments' that I'd learned devolved into bureaucracy started out, and I started reading up on the history, and realised, with some discontent, that what I'd developed, once I'd made all the concessions for reality that would be necessary if this system were to be the actual one real human beings lives depended on, was essentially identical to the Soviet system.
From there, I read up on Marxist theory, still basically wary that this had all, at some point, been taken over by an evil dictator, but able to see that the earliest stages, at least, had been exactly what I was imagining, but put into practice. Reading the theory, reading how their experience experimenting with different forms of organisation, and the failures of some types, had led them to discover what did and didn't work, and adjust accordingly, made me suddenly appreciate why certain things were done certain ways. The harsh experiences of civil war had revealed certain dynamics and mechanics in the way society and production worked, which translates into political theories that bore out results I wouldn't have expected (and neither had the communists who had discovered them through practice!).
Eventually, with some chagrin and a significant deal of excitement, I realised that much of what I'd passively absorbed about socialism, many of the common-sense maxims that I'd been taught by capitalist society about the nature of power and so on, were very much artifacts of a decades-long war against these communists and the system they'd built, carried out by exactly the corporations and empires I had thought myself opposed to.
I won't critique any individual point of yours, but I will enjoin you to try out some Marxist theory - Dialectical and Historical Materialism, or Socialism, Utopian and Scientific, or Principles of Communism, or even the Communist Manifesto, and to read between the lines of whatever capitalist source you read on socialism, to notice every [citation needed] and wonder what actually happened such that someone felt the need to make something up.
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specialagentlokitty · 9 months ago
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Hannibal lector x teen!reader - ensure you’re safe
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Hi 👋🏻 Saw you wanted to try to write for Hannibal characters and for me the easiest way to start writing for Hannibal was to write like a therapy session with Hannibal. So thought maybe you could write teen!reader or just regular reader at a therapy session with Hannibal, of course there’s no worries if you don’t write it, just thought it might help you out <3 I will probably request something with Will later as he’s my fave character but can’t come up with anything right now - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜
TW: mentions of abusive parents
Sitting outside in the waiting room to your new therapists office, you sighed heavily, pulling your headphones back over your head.
You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, a large part of you wanted to just leave, but you had to be there, the officer sitting next to you was there to make sure of that.
But just because you had to be there didn’t mean you had to say anything, or actually take part, you simply just had to attend the session.
You watched as a bit of paper was held out in front of your face, and you sighed, turning your gaze to the man sitting next to you, pulling your headphones back down.
“What?” You snapped.
“Don’t be rude, keep your headphones down, and please try take part.”
“I don’t see why I have to, I didn’t do shit wrong.”
“Well, apparently everybody else sees differently kiddo, so please try.”
You stuck your middle finger up at him, pulling your headphones back over your head to carry on blocking out of the world.
You weren’t paying all that much attention, but you did notice when the officer next to you stood up and you turned your head to look at him in uninterest as he spoke to the man who came out of the office.
Then he turned back to you and pushed your headphones down.
“You’re up kid, I’ll wait out here to take you home but then you’re on your own to make sure you come to these sessions, got it? Twice a week.”
“Get lost Daniels.”
“Alright, but remember no wondering off because we’ll know.”
You just scowled and he grinned a little at you, holding up your bag for you to take as you stood up.
“This is Doctor Hannibal Lector, he’s going to be your new therapist, be polite, respectful, and remember to keep your temper.” Daniels warned.
You said nothing as he left, and you turned to the therapist.
“Hello (Y/N), would you like to come in?”
You set your bag down and sat down back in the chair you were waiting in.
Hannibal smiled slightly, and closing his office door, walking over to sit next to you, sitting forward slightly, clasping his hands together.
He took a moment to study you, how uninterested you were, the fact you wouldn’t even look at him, you were dressed in ripped jeans, well worn trainers, a hoodie.
But it was your face that he was drawn to, the stitches on your eyebrow, a little bit of dried blood just at the side, clearly you had ripped one or two earlier that day. What looked to be a broken nose, split lip, and from the brief glance of your knuckles he had gotten they were bruised and blooded.
He made a few mental notes before he finally spoke first, seeing you weren’t going to initiate a conversation with him.
“Would you like to start by telling me a little bit about yourself?” He asked.
“No.”
“Well, how about we start with why you’re here. Why have you been referred to me (Y/N)?”
“You have my file. You know why.” You grumbled.
“Yes, I am aware this is court mandated therapy. I would like to know why you think you were sentenced to therapy, what are your thoughts about this?”
You didn’t say anything, you just slumped down in the chair, pulling your hood up so he wasn’t able to look at you.
“You have no interest in being here.” He noted.
“Nope.”
“I see, yet you’re staying for what reason? What happens if you walk out of those doors before our session has ended?”
You didn’t say anything, and he just sat there silently for the rest of the session with you.
Every session went the same, you would sit outside, refuse to come in or answer his questions, then the pair of you would sit outside the office while he read or made notes and you listened to your music.
It went that way for nearly two months, and Hannibal followed the same routine this time around, opening his office door and you looked up at him.
He paused, taking in your bloodied hoodie and nose.
“(Y/N), what happened?” He asked.
You got up, and he stepped aside, holding the door for you as you walked in for the first time since you began to see him.
Hannibal carefully closed the door, watched as you walked around until you stopped by the ladders and you sat down on them.
“There are more comfortable places to sit if you would prefer.”
“I’m fine.”
He hummed a little bit, sitting in a chair as he looked over at you.
You were one to keep your distance, so he wanted to respect that boundary and stayed where he was on the other side of the room.
“Are you? In the two months that we have known one another you have never stepped foot inside my office until now. Today is the only day you have come in looking as if you were in a fight just before arriving.”
You didn’t say anything.
“I have read your file numerous times, you’re known for your rather unpleasant temper, you have been arrest on multiple occasions for assault, your most previous charge is listed as aggregated assault.”
“So what?” You snapped slightly.
“There is no need to get angry, I am not here to judge you. I am simply here to assist you, find out why you are so angry all the time and what led to your anger.”
You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down, pressing it to your nose, wiping some of the blood on it.
Hannibal got up, walking over he took the handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to you, making sure he kept his distance.
“I don’t need your help…” you grumbled.
“Well, blood can be rather hard to wash out of clothing, you may ruin your jacket if you keep that up.”
“It’s a hoodie.”
Hannibal chuckled slightly.
“Very well, you will ruin your hoodie.”
“Like I said, don’t need your help.”
Hannibal sighed, laying the handkerchief down on the floor just a few steps away from your and he clasped his hands behind his back.
“You are a deeply mistrusting person, I understand that. But perhaps if you are willing to give someone a chance you will see that some people can be trusted.”
You glanced up at him, then quickly averted your gaze, going back to looking at the floor instead, but he knew you were watching him.
You had your head lowered, but just barely high enough to look at his shoes.
“Who hurt you?” He pressed carefully.
“What makes you think I didn’t start it?”
“The lack of bruises or scrapes on your hands, your clothes are rather dirty, defensive wounds I would say. Am I correct?”
You shrugged a little bit.
“Maybe I just like it, getting into fights and all.”
“I have a reason that perhaps you don’t enjoy it.”
You looked up at Hannibal, getting up and you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.
“Maybe I do. Maybe it fun, beating the crap out of someone until their blood is all over their face, watching as they beg me to stop, to leave them alone. Maybe I like the fear in the eyes.” You taunted.
“Is that so?”
Hannibal watched as you studied him, getting a read on him, trying size him up to see if you could take him on in a fight or not.
“Do you want to hurt me (Y/N)?”
You didn’t say anything.
“Who do you really want to hurt? When you get into all these fights you claim to enjoy, who do you think off when you’re knocking them to the ground and beating them within an inch of their lives?”
“No one.”
“Anybody with that much rage thinks of somebody, targets somebody.”
You just scoffed, making your way past him to head to the door.
You left without another wait, having reached the exact time limit of the session and Hannibal walked over to his desk, opening his book.
He wrote down what you had told him, and sat reflecting on it.
Clearly you were an angry person, you were a teenager with a lot of anger and hatred, but not at the world.
It was directed at one single person, because if your anger was random he had no doubt in his mind you would’ve already tried to attack him, but you didn’t.
You simply just refused to acknowledge whatever he said, you didn’t attempt to hurt him.
Intimidate? Yes. But not hurt.
It was a few days when your next session came around, and you walked into the office once more, taking a seat in your usual spot, this time a little more slowly.
Hannibal frowned, but carried on his session.
And he began to pick up on every time you came into the sessions either hurt, or fresh out of a fight.
And the timeframe between these seemed to get smaller and smaller, up until the point today.
Hannibal opened his door and you looked worse than ever as you pushed past him, dripping some blood on to the floor, limping into the middle of the room.
You took a few shoe breaths and he closed the door, making his way over to you.
“(Y/N), can you hear me?”
You slowly turned to him, nodding your head, stumbling a couple of steps.
“Tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”
You shook your head, slowly sitting down on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get blood on any of his furniture.
“Stay here, I will call the police, and for an ambulance.”
“No!”
Hannibal turned at your outburst, and you looked at him, rage with slight fear mixed in your eyes.
“Don’t you dare, don’t… don’t call anyone…” you warned.
“Alright.”
Hannibal set his phone back down and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, resting an arm on his leg.
“Tell me what happened.”
You took a small breath, leaning back on one of your hands.
“I fucked up… real bad doctor Lector… like.. like real bad…”
“I need you to tell me what happened.” He pressed carefully.
You sighed a little bit.
“He got drunk again, got pissed, I talked back. He swung for me so I fought back, hit him with a chair. She got pissed at me, pushed me down a few stairs.”
“Who is the ‘he’ you keep referring to?”
“My dad.”
Hannibal nodded his head.
“I assume the ‘she’ would then be your mother?”
“Bingo, right on the money doc. I can see why you’re a therapist.”
Hannibal noticed how you deflected the serious topic with unserious remarks or a slightly snappy tone towards him.
“I see, you are aware that I have to call the police, and I strongly recommend you allow me to take you to the hospital. A fall down the stairs is not something to take so lightly.”
“You call police and I’m gone.”
“Why?”
You stayed quiet, shifting a little with pain and he sighed.
“You have strong issues with authority, but unfortunately I have to call them, I have a duty of care to ensure your well-being. Which means if I suspect that someone or yourself will cause you harm I have to report it. I can request to be with you every step of the way if that makes you comfortable.”
You pushed yourself up with a grunt of pain, stumbling a few steps backwards and Hannibal quickly stood up, placing his hand on your back to keep you stable.
You moved away quickly, and made your way to the door.
“At least allow me to take you to the hospital.” Hannibal said.
He turned around to get his keys from his desk and when he turned around you were gone.
He sighed, picking up his phone in order to call for your parole officer.
He had had the number his his phone since the first session, but he had never had to call the officer about you.
Not until now.
He quickly relayed on the fact that you had come into his officer severely injured.
You hadn’t made it far when Daniels picked you up, despite the fact you tried running you couldn’t exactly outrun a police officer in your injured state and you were taken to the hospital.
The ran some tests, stitched up your cuts, and placed you in a room while you awaited the results of your tests.
“So, want to tell me what happened?” Daniels asked.
“Go fuck yourself.” You growled.
“Hey, I want to help kid. But I can’t if I don’t know what happened to you.”
“You know what happened you prick, you all know what happened but you won’t do fuck all about it!”
“Calm down right now.”
“Or what?!”
You ripped the IV out of your arm, and you stood up, nearly falling to the side but you didn’t falter.
Daniels stood up as well.
“You can’t do shit.”
“Look, doctor lector is on his way, and they’re taking your parents in for questioning right now but you need to stay here.”
“Like fuck do I have to stay here. You can’t hold me for shit.”
You barged past him, throwing down the tray as he tried to follow you.
It would stall him for a few minutes while nurses and doctors quickly tried to gathering everything up so nobody would get hurt.
You left the hospital, making your way to your usual hideout spot when you didn’t want to go home.
It wasn’t the best, an old and abandoned construction site, but it was full of more than enough hiding places, and you went to your favourite one.
Sitting in the concrete pipe, you rested your back on a blanket you had in there, closing your eyes as you breathed through the discomfort.
Your phone was ringing endlessly, and you turned it off, getting bored of hearing the sound.
Though the silence was helpful when it came to hearing the creaking of the large metal gate being opened and closed.
“(Y/N), I know you’re here, come out so we can talk!” Hannibal called.
You stayed quiet.
You knew he would eventually and it only took a few minutes for him to appear at the entrance to your hiding spot.
He offered you a gentle smile.
“You need to go back to the hospital.”
“No.”
“Your parents are currently in custody, you’re safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you, nobody there will hurt you either.”
You scoffed.
“You really believe that? Give it a day or two, they’ll be back out.”
“Yet you always go back, why?”
“Because I have to, court order. Every. Single. Time.”
Hannibal sighed, and he offered you a reassuring smile.
“Come with me, I assure you that no more harm will come to you.”
You didn’t believe him, you simply just left the other end of the pipe you were sat in and Hannibal got up to follow you.
“You have internal bleeding, if you do not go back to the hospital you’ll die within hours.”
“Great, makes life easier for everybody. Gives me a way out.”
“Do you wish to die?”
You paused, giving the man a chance to walk over to you and stand in front of you.
“Do you wish to die (Y/N)?”
“No.”
“So, allow me to take you back to the hospital then. We will let the surgeons fix whatever inside you is bleeding, then when you wake up I will be right there waiting.”
“Yeah, and they’ll be there too.”
“You have my word, you parents will not be allowed in the room.”
You scoffed.
“Yeah, I’ll take my chances bleeding internally.”
“What if I can prove to you that they won’t be allowed in the same room as you?”
This seemed to gain your interested, and he gestured to the front of the construction sight.
“Do you see that man over there?”
You nodded.
“His name is Jack Crawford, he works for the FBI. He has read over your case file, he along with another agent will be outside your room the entire time you are there in recovery while we sort a safer place for you.”
Hannibal held his hand out to you.
“Do you trust me, even just a little bit?”
You looked at him, and you slowly nodded your head.
Hannibal smiled, walking over and he reached out, wrapping his arm around you, letting you hold his other arm to steady yourself while you both walked.
“They will never hurt you again (Y/N).”
Hannibal helped you into his car and got into the drivers seat, adjusting the mirror, wiping the little bit of blood that was on it so you wouldn’t see it
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