#just the organized progression of their relationship

[askshivanulegacy]

Posts like these always strike me as ... off-key somehow.

As a writer and an artist, I began posting my work because it was there.

I draw for myself. I write for myself.

I post because I CAN. Because my work is available and there's no reason not to. Because I can have a neatly organized portfolio that I can share if I ever want. Because I just like scrolling through my thumbnails on my art sites or my summaries on A03.

They show progress and achievement.

I don't need anyone else to tell me what I've achieved.

Two decades ago, well before A03 was ever a real thing, when I was doing a lot of my late night reading and thinking, I realized something foundational.

Your stories - my stories - connect you with the reader. For a short moment in time, you are the same. You have the same thoughts and feelings and goals and dreams. That author you're reading understands you on a level you might never be able to articulate to anyone, and you understand them. That means there's a person, somewhere on the planet that identifies with your most secret feelings.

And that's true for every story. And that's true whether you can say anything to the author about it or not.

And that means every story is worth sharing, even if just one person out there loves it, even if they never say so. It's worth it, for that one, silent person.

You don't need people to tell you that you have an impact for that impact to be very real.

And that's beautiful. It means everything.

The other piece of creation is that you, as a creator, cannot outsource your happiness.

There's nothing wrong with encouraging engagement, but you simply have no say in it. It's not something you can control or influence. Whether you post or don't post, it will not affect what other people do about it.

There is a harmful trend of creators deciding they NEED engagement. They become addicted to it and suddenly the only reason they create is for attention. The only reason they post is for attention. And because they've outsourced their happiness but can't control it, they crash and burn if they don't get whatever levels of engagement they've decided they want.

You, as a creator, need to find internal motivation. You need to develop the basic strength to be satisfied with your work. You need to develop a healthy relationship with your work.

Yes, it's a crying shame that readers/viewers do not bother to provide feedback. But you also cannot allow the actions of other random people to dictate what you do. You will ALWAYS end up disappointed. They will never perform up to your standards.

There is at least one person out there who was changed by your work, and that means something, even if they haven't said so. It's more important than sitting on your creations for no real reason other than someone you don't know not doing something very specific.

You can always do what you want with your stuff. If you don't want to share, then it's a choice. But is not sharing because you're bitter about unspecified randos really how you want to do it? Are you going to let bitterness dictate what you do? Or are you going to make your decisions for yourself?

You can only ever make an impact and you can only ever get feedback, however rare, by sharing.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[anaalnathrakhs]

i've had to unfollow a couple of aro-positivity blogs bc they hammer how at the same time they complain about friendships being deemed lesser than romance, and also about romantic shipping somehow ruining every canon or fanon friendship/platonic/etc thing those characters had.

"Why do you ship those characters???? Do you hate platonic friendships????" Well you see, they're friends in canon, and various relationship settings are interesting to explore between characters who have a strong bond. The same way people write pre-dating pining/falling in love/backstory/just being friends stories for canon couples. Just like sometimes people decide those two were matched in a way that doesn't jive with them and break them up in their fanfic.

"Shipping a character who doesn't have a love interest in canon is arophobia!!!" Yeah and you can only have one OTP else the characters are cheating on each other. Each pairing can only be written with a dynamic as close to canon as possible, else you just don't understand the source material. Writing an interpretation of the source means that you think that's exactly what the original writer implied, and the only correct interpretation.

"Shipping an aro character is just like making a gay character straight!!!" Neither of which are actually inherently bad and poorly handled things. Excluding making a case for characters being romance-positive/demi/gray/in qprs/etc while incorporating canon/subtext/word-of-god aro elements, because ppl writing those posts are often (rightfully) cool with it, it's also just. yknow. fine. Case-by-case, if you will. Sometimes a character dynamic would be interesting because characters are more than their orientation and also NOT REAL PEOPLE with no internal lives, likes and dislikes, boundaries, etc. You can modify things about them. It can be done in a poor manner, and denote a misunderstanding of aro issues and identities, or straight up bigotry. It can also just be that it's interesting to write about. Like genderbends for example. Many of the same arguments can be used there.

Anyway. Of course amatonormativity is real, and very present, and overwhelming, and exhausting. But the thing is that no fanfic interpretation REPLACES the original text or another interpretation. Friendships and other platonic relationships are not valued enough, given enough spotlight in media. But the answer to that isn't to chastize people for being creative and violating the integrity of a fictional character's identity. Encourage depictions and explorations of less normative relationships (not in the romantic sense of the word, all kinds of relationships), as well as the weight they hold. Educate people on aromanticism, amatonormativity, etc. I know you're already doing it, and it's not working, but trying to shame people for being creative is not gonna make it work faster.

Also re: in most cases, characters should not use therapy-speak to communicate or think, because that's not how people function in real life. Same thing applies. Just like internalize homophobia is a staple of many gay fanfics that wish to deal (however superficially and however in-depth as they'd like) with the topic, amatonormativity is going to be a feature of many fanfics about characters living in a world that, modeled after ours or not, was still created by people living in the same amatonormativity as we are. Usually, unless they actively work to insert non-amatonormative elements in their worldbuilding or specific story setting, writers will create a world through the prism of our society's amatonormativity, thus creating an amatonormative setting producing characters that think amatonormatively. It doesn't stop them experiencing things outside of the realm of that "normality", but it does influence the way they'll think and act about it.

There's few situations in which a long internal monologue about which modern queer lingo is appropriate for their feelings doesn't feel a bit shoehorned (and no hate if you want to write or read a feelgood piece instead of detailing internalized bigotry in all its complexity, to be clear, but that's a writing choice not a moral requirement to signify that This Author is Aro-Positive). Thus, characters will think about, act, narrate their story, etc, as they experience it, with the knowledge and vocabulary they have. Every action is only as romantic/platonic as the people doing it intend to make it, and every action you see on screen is up to your interpretation because characters don't have intentions.

I can write about two characters having sex, and not include a huge paragraph about how totally romanticism-less this whole thing is, because it would be completely out of character for them to apprehend these concepts in these words, and I don't want to tackle the WHOLE damn split-attraction model or every possible non-amatonormative way to conceptualize fuckbuddies arrangements, because I'm writing prose and not an educative guide. They fall for amatonormative ideas that are restrictive and don't encompass the full spectrum of human relationships. Hell, maybe the writer does too, even if they do challenge some other amatonormative ideas. But in any case, it does not erase any narrative of platonic feelings for those characters. The flavor-text reiterating amatonormative ideas ("this COULDN'T have been friendship" "relationships fixed them and they were so so sad and miserable before", etc) is annoying, but 1st of all educating is always better than chastizing, and 2nd of all sometimes prose is just hyperbolic like that, idk, there's notes of biphobia in how some stories highlight the character's first gay experience, but it's also just resonating and amplifying the feelings some people really do feel in these situations. That's a writing thing. Not universal to every style, but common.

yeah. non-amatonormative rep is good. less creative endeavors is bad.

[heyitsphoenixx]

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[sentientobjects]

i have object bio hcs u couldnt even Fathom

[puthyflapps]

I'm kind of obsessed that no one really cares that gen q got canceled. Do you know how bad a show has to be for the twitter lesbians NOT to start a # to try and save it? Granted it's probably because the reboot is already in the works but it's still so funny to me.

There was a hashtag going around before any renewal/cancellation news dropped and the funny part is the # wasn’t aiming to save Gen Q but to basically do what they’re doing now which is completely scrap the show and start over so lmaooo what a win for the girlies

[yo9urt]

-_-

[missdollcouture]

NEW YEAR, NEW ME

this is a collab w the it girl @prettieinpink !!

HABITS TO IMPLEMENT 

Movement (yoga, running, Pilates, walking, gym, etc. Anything that allows you to move your body 

Reflection- make a note of things you would like to improve on. This could be self-love, relationships, 

STAY CONSISTENT

Consistency is key. Make sure to stick to your plan and keep working towards your goals every day. Even small steps are progress. Try to make your goal part of your daily routine. 

HOW TO STAY CONSISTENT 

SCHEDULE- Setting schedules helps really well with consistency. Make a schedule for the tasks you need to do daily or weekly to achieve your goals. This can help you make your goals a part of your routine, making it easier to stay consistent.

STAY ORGANIZED- Keep track of your tasks and goals. Use tools like calendars, to-do lists, or apps to help you stay organized and remember what you need to do.

DISCIPLINE YOURSELF- Sometimes, you won't feel like working towards your goals, and that's okay. The key is to maintain discipline and do the task anyway. Remember, consistency is about doing the task regularly, not just when you feel like it.

START SMALL- Don't overwhelm yourself with huge tasks. Start small and gradually increase your workload as you build consistency.

DON’T BE TOO HARD ON YOURSELF- If you miss a day, don't beat yourself up. Instead, acknowledge that it happened, understand why, and move on. Consistency is about long-term progress, not perfection.

CREATE A PLAN

Once you know what your goals are, create a step-by-step plan on how to achieve them. Break down each goal into smaller, manageable tasks. This might involve creating a timeline, setting deadlines, or identifying resources or tools you might need.

LEAVE THINGS IN THE PAST 

In 2023, I’m sure everyone has had ups and downs, but not letting them define you as a person is something that has to be done in order for you to become a new person.

HOW TO LEAVE THINGS IN THE PAST

ACCEPTANCE-  Acknowledge the past and accept it as part of your life story. Understand that it's something that has shaped you but doesn't define you.

FORGIVENESS- Forgive yourself and others. Holding onto resentment only harms you. Letting go of grudges can bring a sense of peace and open up space for healthier relationships.

LEARN FROM IT- Every experience, good or bad, is an opportunity to learn. Reflect on these experiences and use them as stepping stones to better decisions in the future.

FOCUS ON THE PRESENT- The past is unchangeable, but the present is in your control. Concentrate on what you can do now to create a positive future.

SET NEW GOALS- Create new objectives for yourself. This gives you something to work towards and helps shift your focus from the past to the future.

PRACTISE MINDFULNESS- Mindfulness is about staying focused on the present moment. Practices like meditation can help you stay grounded and prevent you from dwelling on the past.

ADJUST YOUR PLAN AS NEEDED

It's okay if your initial plan doesn't work out exactly as you thought. Life happens, and it's important to be flexible and adapt your plan as needed. If you find that a certain approach isn't working, don't be afraid to try something different.

PRACTICE SELF CARE

Remember to take care of yourself physically, emotionally, and mentally. This can include things like getting enough sleep, eating healthy, exercising regularly, and taking time to relax and do things you enjoy. Don't forget that self-care is an important part of reaching your goals.

WAYS TO PRACTICE SELF CARE-

BALANCED DIET-  There is no need to restrict yourself from foods but eating a healthy, balanced diet is crucial for maintaining physical health. Try to include plenty of fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains in your diet.

EXERCISE REGULARLY- Regular physical activity can help reduce stress, improve mood, and boost overall health. This doesn't necessarily mean going to the gym - it could be anything from a brisk walk to a yoga class

GET ENOUGH SLEEP-  Aim for 7-9 hours of sleep per night. Establish a regular sleep schedule and create a relaxing bedtime routine to improve sleep quality.

STAY HYDRATED-  Drinking enough water each day is important for overall health. Try to aim for at least 8 glasses per day.

TAKE BREAKS- Make sure to take regular breaks throughout the day, especially if you're working or studying. This can help prevent burnout and improve productivity.

DO THINGS YOU ENJOY- Make time for hobbies or activities you enjoy. This could be anything from reading a book to playing a sport to painting. 

  CELEBRATE SMALL THINGS

Don't wait until you've reached your big goal to celebrate. Celebrate small wins along the way to keep your motivation high. This could be treating yourself to something you enjoy, or simply taking a moment to acknowledge your achievement.

REFLECTING ON THE PAST YEAR

Think about how the past year went. Did you learn anything? Did you reach new goals? If you don't the answers to these questions, I recommend further examining your year!!

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

Becoming an Intelligent Woman

My Dears,

There is no greater goal than being a fine woman who is intelligent, kind, and elegant. As much as we all want to be described with these adjectives, it takes a great amount of discipline to get there. It is very doable only if you are ready to put in the work.

Here are steps you can add to your routine in the next 4 weeks that will make you 1% more intelligent than you were before. This is a process that should become a habit not a goal. It is long term, however, I want you to devote just 4 weeks into doing these steps first and recognize the changes that follow.

Watch documentaries: This is the easiest step, we all have access to Youtube. Youtube has a great number of content on art, history, technology, food, science etc that will increase your knowledge and pique your curiosity. I really did not know much about world history especially from the perspective of World war 1 & 2, the roaring 20s, Age of Enlightenment, Jazz era, monarchies etc but with several channels dedicated to breaking down history into easily digestible forms. I have in the last 4 weeks immersed myself into these documentaries. Here are a few I watched:

The fall of monarchies

The Entire History of United Kingdom

The Eight Ages of Greece

World War 1

World War 2

The Roaring '20s

The Cuisine of the Enlightenment

2. Read Classics: I recommend starting with short classics so that you do not get easily discouraged. Try to make reading easy and interesting especially if you struggle with finishing a book. Why classics? You see, if you never went to an exclusive private school in Europe or America with well crafted syllabus that emphasized philosophy, history, art, and literary classics, you might want to know what is felt like and for me this was a strong reason. Asides that, there is so much wisdom and knowledge available in these books. In these books, you gain insights to the authors mind, the historical context of the era, the ingenuity of the author, the hidden messages, and the cultural impact of these books. Most importantly, you develop your personal philosophy from the stories and lessons you have accumulated from the lives of the characters in the books you read. Here are classics to get you started:

Animal Farm by George Orwell

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald

Candide by Voltaire

Paradise lost by John Milton

3. Study the lives of people who inspire you: I dedicate one month to each person that fascinates me. I read their biography (date of birth, background, death, influences, work, style, education, personal life) For this month, I decided to study Frank Lloyd Wright because I was fascinated by the Guggenheim Museum in New York. I began to read about his influence in American Architecture (Organic architecture, Prairie School, Usonian style), his tumultuous personal life, his difficult relationship with his mentor (Louis Sullivan), his most iconic works etc. By the end of the year I would have learned the ins and outs of people I am inspired by through books and documentaries. Here are other people I plan to learn more about:

Winston Churchill

Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis

Ada Lovelace

Benjamin Franklin

Helen Keller

John Nash

Isabella Stewart Gardner

Caroline Herrera

Ernest Hemingway

Catherine the Great

Ann Lowe

My dears, I hope you enjoyed this read. I cannot wait to write more on my journey to becoming a fine woman. I urge you to do this for four weeks and see what changes you notice. Make sure to write as well, it is important to document your progress.

Cheers to a very prosperous 2024!

[togglesbloggle]

For the Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme, Lamarckism!

(This is an excellent ask.)

Lamarck got done a bit dirty by the textbooks, as one so often is. He's billed as the guy who articulated an evolutionary theory of inherited characteristics, inevitably set up as an opponent made of straw for Darwin to knock down. The example I recall my own teachers using in grade school was the idea that a giraffe would strain to reach the highest branches of a tree, and as a result, its offspring would be born with slightly longer necks. Ha-ha-ha, isn't-that-silly, isn't natural selection so much more sensible?

But the thing is, this wasn't his idea, not even close. People have been running with ideas like that since antiquity at least. What Lamarck did was to systematize that claim, in the context of a wider and much more interesting theory.

Lamarck was born in to an era where natural philosophy was slowly giving way to Baconian science in the modern sense- that strange, eighteenth century, the one caught in an uneasy tension between Newton the alchemist and Darwin the naturalist. This is the century of Ben Franklin and his key and his kite, and the awed discovery that this "electricity" business was somehow involved in living organisms- the discovery that paved the way for Shelley's Frankenstein. This was the era when alchemy was fighting its last desperate battles with chemistry, when the division between 'organic' and 'inorganic' chemistry was fundamental- the first synthesis of organic molecules in the laboratory wouldn't occur until 1828, the year before Lamarck's death. We do not have atoms, not yet. Mendel and genetics are still more than a century away; we won't even have cells for another half-century or more.

Lamarck stepped in to that strange moment. I don't think he was a bold revolutionary, really, or had much interest in being one. He was profoundly interested in the structure and relationships between species, and when we're not using him as a punching bag in grade schools, some people manage to remember that he was a banging good taxonomist, and made real progress in the classification of invertebrates. He started life believing in the total immutability of species, but later was convinced that evolution really was occurring- not because somebody taught him in the classroom, or because it was the accepted wisdom of the time, but through deep, continued exposure to nature itself. He was convinced by the evidence of his senses.

(Mostly snails.)

His problem was complexity. When he'd been working as a botanist, he had this neat little idea to order organisms by complexity, starting with the grubbiest, saddest little seaweed or fern, up through lovely flowering plants. This was not an evolutionary theory, just an organizing structure; essentially, just a sort of museum display. But when he was asked to do the same thing with invertebrates, he realized rather quickly that this task had problems. A linear sorting from simple to complex seemed embarrassingly artificial, because it elided too many different kinds of complexity, and ignored obvious similarities and shared characteristics.

When he went back to the drawing board, he found better organizing schema; you'd recognize them today. There were hierarchies, nested identities. Simple forms with only basic, shared anatomical patterns, each functioning as a sort of superset implying more complex groups within it, defined additively by the addition of new organs or structures in the body. He'd made a taxonomic tree.

Even more shockingly, he realized something deep and true in what he was looking at: this wasn't just an abstract mapping of invertebrates to a conceptual diagram of their structures. This was a map in time. Complexities in invertebrates- in all organisms!- must have been accumulating in simpler forms, such that the most complicated organisms were also the youngest.

This is the essential revolution of Lamarckian evolution, not the inherited characteristics thing. His theory, in its full accounting, is actually quite elaborate. Summarized slightly less badly than it is in your grade school classroom (though still pretty badly, I'm by no means an expert on this stuff), it looks something like this:

As we all know, animals and plants are sometimes generated ex nihilo in different places, like maggots spontaneously appearing in middens. However, the spontaneous generation of life is much weaker than we have supposed; it can only result in the most basic, simple organisms (e.g. polyps). All the dizzying complexity we see in the world around us must have happened iteratively, in a sequence over time that operated on inheritance between one organism and its descendants.

As we all know, living things are dynamic in relation to inorganic matter, and this vital power includes an occasional tendency to gain in complexity. However, this tendency is not a spiritual or supernatural effect; it's a function of natural, material processes working over time. Probably this has something to do with fluids such as 'heat' and 'electricity' which are known to concentrate in living tissues. When features appear spontaneously in an organism, that should be understood as an intrinsic propensity of the organism itself, rather than being caused by the environment or by a divine entity. There is a specific, definite, and historically contingent pattern in which new features can appear in existing organisms.

As we all know, using different tissue groups more causes them to be expressed more in your descendants, and disuse weakens them in the same way. However, this is not a major feature in the development of new organic complexity, since it could only move 'laterally' on the complexity ladder and will never create new organs or tissue groups. At most, you might see lineages move from ape-like to human-like or vice versa, or between different types of birds or something; it's an adaptive tendency that helps organisms thrive in different environments. In species will less sophisticated neural systems, this will be even less flexible, because they can't supplement it with willpower the way that complex vertebrates can.

Lamarck isn't messing around here; this is a real, genuinely interesting model of the world. And what I think I'm prepared to argue here is that Lamarck's biggest errors aren't his. He has his own blind spots and mistakes, certainly. The focus on complexity is... fraught, at a minimum. But again and again, what really bites him in the ass is just his failure to break with his inherited assumptions enough. The parts of this that are actually Lamarckian, that is, are the ideas of Lamarck, are very clearly groping towards a recognizable kind of proto-evolutionary theory.

What makes Lamarck a punching bag in grade-school classes today is the same thing that made it interesting; it's that it was the best and most scientific explanation of biological complexity available at the time. It was the theory to beat, the one that had edged out all the other competitors and emerged as the most useful framework of the era. And precisely none of that complexity makes it in to our textbooks; they use "Lamarckianism" to refer to arguments made by freaking Aristotle, and which Lamarck himself accepted but de-emphasized as subordinate processes. What's even worse, Darwin didn't reject this mechanism either. Darwin was totally on board with the idea as a possible adaptive tendency; he just didn't particularly need it for his theory.

Lamarck had nothing. Not genetics, not chromosomes, not cells, not atomic theory. Geology was a hot new thing! Heat was a liquid! What Lamarck had was snails. And on the basis of snails, Lamarck deduced a profound theory of complexity emerging over time, of the biosphere as a(n al)chemical process rather than a divine pageant, of gradual adaptation punctuated by rapid innovation. That's incredible.

There's a lot of falsehood in the Lamarckian theory of evolution, and it never managed to entirely throw off the sloppy magical thinking of what came before. But his achievement was to approach biology and taxonomy with a profound scientific curiosity, and to improve and clarify our thinking about those subjects so dramatically that a theory of biology could finally, triumphantly, be proven wrong. Lamarck is falsifiable. That is a victory of the highest order.

[stu-dyingstudent]

Sakura Haruno fic recs: romance-centric

I, like many others, definitely enjoy a a good romance every so often. All of these recs are going to have the romantic development of the characters as the forefront of the story, so just because the fic includes a ship doesn't mean it will go on the list. That means, many of them might feel more on the slice of life side of the spectrum, but that's not the case for all!!

There is going to be a mix of ships here so if you're interested in one in specific then use the search feature!

Started: 2024.08.28

Last Updated: 2024.09.28

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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To Build a Home - RedPowder || ao3 || E || kakasaku || canon divergence || ongoing

Sakura and Kakashi are assigned a mission that will change the path of their lives forever.

Kakashi and Sakura are forced to marry on orders from the village and I know that description sounds dumb, but trust me when I say this fic is gold. I've always had a hard time with kakasaku fics because I feel the whole teacher/student thing gets swept under the rug too easily, but that's not the case here. Their past relationship from team 7 is a glaring shadow over their marriage and the guilt over the whole situation weighs heavy on Kakashi. This mission isn't easy for either of them and it takes a lot of pull and tug to ensure things don't completely blow up. To Build a Home is probably one of my favorite takes on this ship as the portrayal feels realistic and the character feel accurate to themselves. Just give it a go!

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Approaching Sun - ANerdInAllHerGlory || ffn || T || sasusaku || blank period || ongoing

After 2 years, Sasuke returns to the village where friends anxiously await him. Still troubled by the mysteries of Kaguya and his personal guilt, Sasuke is split between friends and his journey. Troubled by rising casualties and international dependence on her abilities, Sakura is torn between her love for Sasuke and her duty to her village.

Approaching Sun is probably one of the most realistic depictions of Sasuke and Sakura's relationship that I have read. This takes place during the blank period and references the novels, so it feels like an actual possibility of what went down. As much as I love them, I have a hard time believing that their relationship was smooth sailing and so I think this is an interesting take.

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The Fool - thekatthatbarks || ao3 || T || shikasaku || blank period || complete

Ino kicked at a pebble on the ground, her arms folded across her chest. “How long?” Shikamaru sighed and pulled the cigarette away from his lips. “The war." It was a lie somewhat. He’d liked her since they were kids but had simply ignored the budding crush expecting it to fade over time. It hadn’t and by the time the war came around, he accepted he would always carry it despite his increasing efforts to drop it. He’d tried drowning it in the river, burning it in a fire, covering it up with something else. But it was all to no avail. It stuck with him, always apart of him. “Have you ever told anyone? Chouji? Her?” "No."

I actually really like Shikamaru and Sakura as a pairing (or just working together in general); however, I haven't read much of them. The Fool was a great post-war read where with some meddling (curtesy of Ino) we get to watch the progression of their relationship into something more than friends.

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Nightmare in Red - Sariasprincy || ao3 || M || itasaku || non-massacre AU || complete

Haruno Sakura used to think the eyes were the windows to the soul, but after witnessing the horrors of the Sharingan firsthand, she's convinced they are the doors. It was pure chance that led Sakura to the discovery of the disease eating through Uchiha Itachi's lungs and now that she's aware, she knows she cannot just turn a blind eye. But how is she to treat the very man who tortured her while at the same time keep her nightmares from consuming her? That she doesn't know, but she knows she has to try, even if it nearly kills her in the end.

Itachi unintentionally captures Sakura in his mangekyou after being rolled into the hospital for her to heal. While Sakura tries to work through the impacts of the genjutsu she continues to work with him in an effort to cure him of the disease infecting his body. I actually really liked how the whole thing played out. Itachi's sickness was sort of a mystery in the original series and so I found it rather interesting to see what was done in regards to it. Anyway, I love their interactions and Shisui is (like always) a great character as well.

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Blind - ObsidianSickle || ffn || sasusaku || T || canon divergent || complete

It was almost time, Orochimaru was going to take his body as a vessel. He hated being used...he refused to be used. With that thought, he took the kunai in his hand and slashed across his eyes.

I won't lie, Sakura is pretty weak in Blind and the whole thing is super cheesy, but it's still an enjoyable read.

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Ghosts - ElegiesforShiva || ffn || sausaku || M || blank period || incomplete

In love and loss, it often comes back to family, and Team 7 had always been fated, hadn't they? Deny it as she may, Sakura finds her heart strung to them with an uncanny reverence and the weight of their ghosts. Sakura-centric. Heavy, heavy angst. Slow burn Sasusaku. Canon pairings. Lots of friendship feels. Eventual (consensual) lemon.

Ghosts is a pretty dark read where basically everyone is suffering. Sasuke and Sakura in specific have an especially hard time coping with their individual struggles yet they find comfort in each other. Check TWs before going in

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Home is Where the Heart is - DeepPoeticGirl || ffn || sasusaku || T || blank period || complete

And with every moment together, they get just a little closer, a little more comfortable with each other. Fall a little more in love. Post-war. Pre-epilogue.

This fic is actually adorable! Taking place during the black period we get to see how Sasuke and Sakura's relationship slowly progresses. If you've always wondered what their travels were like then definitely check this one out.

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In Times of Peace - SouthSideStory || ffn || sasusaku || M || blank period || canon divergent || complete

The war is over, and like Konoha, Team 7 has rebuilt itself from the ground up. Everything has changed, but Sasuke and Sakura remain much the same. Eleven years, she thinks, is a long time to be in love.

Sakura and Sasuke have like a secret relationship going on. Also, Sakura as a jonin sensei is so good!! I really wish that someone from the original cast actually went down that route, but whatever.

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Labyrinthine - FM_White || ao3 || itasaku || M || canon divergence || complete

ItaSaku (Post Uchiha Massacre) AU: Some things are destined to be. It just takes a couple of tries to get there.ItaSaku. Light KakaSaku.

I actually really liked how this was done as team 7 is still a family, Sasuke didn't lose his mind, Itachi picked a much more respectable path imo, and the characters are all adults.

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Only a Crush by Gingersoup || ao3 || kakasaku || M || canon divergent || complete

It was supposed to be an easy, fun night out. She never intended to wake up in her sensei's bed, half-naked and with no memory of what happened the night before! As she tries to unravel the mystery of that night, something sinister is growing beyond the walls of the Leaf Village... and what was only a crush spirals wildly out of control.

Sakura is unwillingly thrust into the world of illegal drugs, trafficking, and sex all while coming to terms with her new feelings regarding her former sensei. I typically don't like kakasaku, but I think this work is done tastefully well. The characters are both adults and the immorality of the relationship is not ignored, so be prepared for a lot of "we can't," "this is wrong," etc.. Anyway, Sakura is an absolute powerhouse and I thoroughly enjoyed the relationship between all of the different characters and villages!

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Dreaming's End - thepiedsniper || ao3 || T || kakasaku || canon divergence || complete

Sakura didn't avoid the Infinite Tsukuyomi with the others, and all the events that happened afterward were simply the product of her dream-state. When Sakura finally wakes up from years spent in her personal "paradise," she must to learn how to start again. Kakashi is there to help her. ~*~ (TWs for genjutsu-related unreality)

Basically, imagine the entirety of Boruto was Sakura's dream in Infinite Tsukuyomi. When Sakura manages to breakout during the war she's left to deal with serious ramifications of the life she just lived. She finds herself constantly questioning what's real and Kakashi tries to help her through it.

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Mamihlapinatapai - FM_White || ao3 || E || itasaku || canon divergence || ongoing

Mamihlapinatapai・Yagan. (n.) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something they both desire, but which neither wants to begin In which Sakura tries her hardest to raise one hell of a rambunctious baby by herself, Sasuke is searching for something unknown, and Itachi is the uncle.

In another life where Itachi doesn't end up dying and instead tries his best to help Sakura raise his niece in Sasuke's absence. It's my head canon that everyone came together to help with Sarada just like they did for Kuranai, and so Mamihlapinatapi satisfies that thought for me. I like how Sasuke was criticized in this since as much as I understand the necessity of what he's doing, I also find it completely unfair to his wife and daughter. Itachi and Sakura form a great bond and it's all very domestic and just super fluffy all around, which I love.

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Louder than Words - SouthSideStory || ao3 || T || sasusaku || non-massacre AU || complete

Sakura hasn’t uttered a single word since the day her family died, but Sasuke is determined to hear her, one way or another. (No Uchiha massacre AU.)

Sakura gets taken in by the Uchiha family after Fugaku finds her on a mission. She's been mute ever since, but that doesn't stop her and Sasuke from forming a close bond.

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Snake Bound - shefalls || ao3 || E || sasusaku || canon divergence || complete

"You... took me with you." "That's what I said." "To Orochimaru. You took me with you, to Orochimaru." Sasuke nodded curtly and shoved the medical kit a little more insistently into her hands. Sakura accepted, and prayed to every known god that Orochimaru would ignore her existence. She should've known the gods don't listen. Now only on AO3. Sequel up.

What if Sasuke took Sakura with him like she asked? Snake Bound explores that idea and it's honestly a very uncomfortable read. Their relationship is based off of the isolation and dependency their new situation puts them in. All they really have is each other and the new bond that brings is not a healthy one.

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Armour-Sleeved Single Hit - thatdamnuchiha || ao3 || T || madasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Sasuke always told Sakura she was weak. Even after she trained with Tsunade for years he only had eyes for Naruto whom he considered strong. She would forever be invisible to him no matter how many mountains she toppled.Being a member of Team Seven despite Sasuke’s refusal to acknowledge her meant she got herself into her fair share of sticky situations. Getting stuck a hundred odd years in the past had to take the cake though.But she was just a weak little girl and compared to the shinobi of old she’d be ridiculously pathetic. Sasuke had said she was weak to him – a modern day shinobi who hadn’t been forced into battle after battle like they did in the Warring Clans Era. Obviously she’d be nothing more than a spec of dirt in the eyes of the Founders.

Sakura manages to find herself in founding-era Konoha! While trying to prove that medical ninja are capable fighters she unknowingly gains the affection of Madara Uchiha. After all, the Uchiha find beauty in strength. Super cute read!

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Always You - alex-halcyon || ffn || T || kakasaku || age swap AU || complete

[AU. Age-swap] Kakashi x Sakura. From academy days to the third shinobi war and beyond, Kakashi and Sakura grow up and fall in love.

Basically, Sakura takes Rin's place on the old team 7. The progression between the character is quite interesting as it definitely isn't smooth sailing for Kakashi and Sakura. However, even through everything they find themselves drifting towards each other. Pretty cute imo.

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interim - stannide || ao3 || T || sasusaku || blank period || one-shot complete

Sasuke lives with Sakura in the weeks after the war.

Interim is such a wholesome read where Sasuke and Sakura rekindle their former relationship. Super fluffy

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Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Tozette || ao3 || T || sasusaku || blank period || one-shot complete

Sasuke is actually eighteen the first time he looks at Sakura and realises abruptly that he wants her.

I think we all know by now that Sasuke has always been attracted to strength, power, so why not when it comes to romance? Essentially, one day on a mission, Sasuke discovers he has a strength kink. Watching him continuously get flustered throughout the fic because of his admiration towards Sakura's strength is so entertaining. Really fun read

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the problem with how time works - MurderMittens || ao3 || E || kakasaku || generation swap AU || complete

"I don't remember you being this uncomfortable when Kakashi was nine and had a crush on you," Ino pointed out neutrally. "You thought it was flattering before." She moved to pour more wine into their glasses as Sakura exhaled sharply out of her nostrils. "Obviously! It was fucking cute when he was a kid! But now he's..." she trailed off, gesticulating feebly. Ino, taking pity on her, finished the sentence: "Now he's a stone cold hottie who looks and sounds like he'd murder the ever-loving shit out of your vagina."

Sakura and Kakashi's generations swap place and boy is it entertaining. With Naruto as his sensei, of course Kakashi has met Sakura. Now that she's back in the village after years, Kakashi decides to try his best to win her over.

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on still water - summersirius || ao3 || T || shisaku || canon divergence || complete

and sometimes, there are days without rain. —shisui/sakura

I'm actually devastated that the author decided to not pursue the plot line after about chapter 15 (it was so good too), but On Still Water is great nonetheless. Some really cute Shisui x Sakura moments

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never let 'em know your next move - MirrorImage003 || ao3 || T || itasaku || non-massacre AU || one-shot complete

six times itachi is surprised by sakura, and the one time he's surprised by his mother.

Sort of drabble style moments between Itachi and Sakura and it's honestly adorable.

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Hatsukoi - sparklyfaerie || ao3 || sasusaku || gen || non-massacre AU || complete

Sasuke leans away as the girl turns to him, and his mother doesn't need to be any closer to guess as to the expression on his face. The girl's body language changes in an instant, and Mikoto recognizes the posture of a little girl in love. It's kind of adorable.

Probably one of the cutest sasusaku fics I have read as Hatsukoi follows them from genin to marriage! It's told in multiple perspectives and it's full of tooth rotting fluff. You get to watch the slow progression of their relationship over time and how they grow even closer in Naruto's absence. Definitely read is you want something light!

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(oh, you'll probably go to heaven) please don't hang your head & cry - SafelyCapricious || ao3 || T || itasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

There’s no such thing as a good death. But Sakura faces her death without any regrets. Her dying is keeping her precious people safe — and that’s all she can ask for. So she dies with a smile, taking thousands of enemies with her. She wakes up and falls off the branch she’s laying on.

More of a pre-ship than anything actually romantic, so maybe this isn't the best for this list lmao.

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Send me some recs if you have any to share! I'm generally fine with any ship as long as the story is good :)

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

❤ Yandere Teacher ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Teacher-Student dynamic; Non-Con.

Merry Christmas! 🎄💖

--

◾ Yandere!Teacher who immediately gets interested in you.

You don’t seem anything like most college girls, maybe because you don’t throw yourself at thim, batting your eyes at him and pushing your chest out in hopes of catching his attention, like many of your colleagues do. 

He knows why they do it. He’s young and attractive, teaching in a college whose reputation is the definition of academic excellence.

◾ Yandere!Teacher who will personally organize the classroom layout, making sure you get the best seat in the house, which coincidentally happens to be right in front of his desk. That way he stays close to you, his eyes often drifting to you as he lectures the class.

◾ Yandere!Teacher that frequently interacts with you, asking if you wanna share an exercise's solution or requesting for you to read out loud a text.

Your reactions are the cutest, he thinks. The adorable way you get shy, sinking into your seat like you want to melt against it and disappear. 

◾ Yandere!Teacher who wholeheartedly believes you to be a talented student, although your grades are mediocre. You are brain and beauty, the perfect combination.

Hence why he adds a few additional points to your grade, wanting to see that beautiful smile of yours instead of ugly disappointment, 

◾ Yandere!Teacher that is fully aware of how wrong it is to have a crush on you - his student - but he can't stop himself from imagining how a relationship with you would look like. The way you’d hug him, pushing your warm lips against his, happy to see him. 

He imagines romantic picnic dates, with you perched on his lap while feeding him strawberries. 

And even worse is when his mind drifts to the two of you creating a small family together. He knows you’re both relatively young but he’s certain that together you could be the best of parents. 

◾ Yandere!Teacher that stalks all of your social media, seeking for anything that could give him more insight on you. What are your hobbies, what type of movies do you like, do you post photos with your family or friends,...

In reality, he’s accidentally clicked one too many times on the like button, panicking before hastily removing it. You never mention it during the classes, but sometimes you give him a weird look. 

◾ Yandere!Teacher that progressively grows frustrated with your lack of interest towards him. While most girls shamelessly throw themselves at him, you don’t. A distant expression and face ducked down as you take notes is all he gets from you.

Even when he accidentally bumps into you around campus, it's a struggle to get you to open-up as he tries to do small talk with you. 

◾ Yandere!Teacher whose blood boils when catches you laughing and joking around with a guy.

He wants to drag you away from the asshole before punching a hole into his face, his imagination running dangerously wild as he imagines all the things he would do to the student, just for making you laugh like that. 

But he doesn’t get mad at you. No, it’s not your fault. You have a kind heart, which automatically makes you naive - unable to see the other guy’s evil intentions.

He doesn’t care about you, he’s probably just thinking of ways to get inside your pants. 

◾ Yandere!Teacher who invites you to stay a bit longer after class, in order to discuss some aspects of your individual project. He notices the nervous way you fiddle with your fingers, uneasy to be alone with him. 

He doesn’t understand why. He loves you and he’s never been anything but kind towards you. 

Your anxiety only increases when the older man places his hand on top of yours, starting to confess the ardent admiration he has for you and how much he thinks you’re gorgeous.

That he feels a special connection between the two of you, something very precious. 

Despite his best attempts of convincing you that you are meant to be together, you’re too stubborn to accept it peacefully. You scream and shout like a crazy girl, scratching and pushing him as he tries to reason with you. 

◾ Yandere!Teacher who ends up bending you on his table, pushing your cheek pressed against the cold surface as he forcefully fucks you, his lips passionately kissing every inch of exposed skin, inebriated on your sweet taste. 

You cry and whimper, his scarf shoved inside your mouth as he punctures you with deep, sharp thrusts while whispering apologies in your ear.

He uses you as a flashlight, setting a fast pace as his cock bruises up your insides till your core is aching and desperate for him to finish already. 

◾ Yandere!Teacher who didn’t mean to break you like this, your pitiful swollen face making him feel bad about what he did, but at least now you know about his feelings for you. 

He’ll make it up for you when he takes you back to his apartment. A warm shower and a good night's sleep will improve your mood. He’ll persuade you to be with him, to accept him.

He knows he’ll be successful eventually and maybe after a few times of making love to you, you’ll also see his side. 

[graysoncritic]

A (Negative) Analysis of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Introduction

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

I want to start this essay by admitting I’m actually embarrassed by its length. Why did I spend so much time on something I dislike? The truth is, I did not begin this with the intention of creating such an extensive, formal study of the Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing run and how it reflects the wider problems with DC’s handling of one of their most iconic characters. I was just trying to organize the thoughts that came up during discussions with other Dick Grayson fans. Before I knew it, I had enough material, enough desire to challenge myself, and enough frustrations to vent to properly create this monstrosity.

I did not begin this Nightwing run determined to hate it. In fact, I was ready to love it. As Taylor promoted the run before the first issue was officially released, I was so excited for it. As I read short interviews where he discussed Heartless, I could not wait to have a new, incredible villain. Foolishly, I believed Taylor when he said he loved Dick Grayson. 

Needless to say, I was disappointed. Then frustrated. Then angry. The beginning of any story is a period where writer and reader form an indirect bond, and as the story progresses, so do the highs and the lows of said relationship. As such, a reader’s tolerance for negative factors will either increase or decrease depending on their experience up until that point.

In other words, if the writer fails to earn the reader’s trust and instead takes their attention for granted, even seemingly insignificant details become irritating in a way they would not be if presented in a better story. In such scenarios, the reader can no longer overlook those minor moments because there’s little good to balance them out with. It is a death by a thousand cuts. 

In the case of Taylor and Redondo’s run, along with those thousand cuts are also broken bones, internal bleeding, head trauma, and severed limbs. A weak plot, simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, and, most importantly, a careless disregard for Dick Grayson and everything he stands for utterly destroyed my enjoyment of this series. 

It is still too early to tell what sort of impact Taylor’s (as of time of writing, still unfinished) run will have on Dick Grayson’s future portrayals. But just because we cannot predict its long term significance, it does not mean we cannot critique it. Currently, we simply lack the benefit of hindsight. 

If this essay were to have a thesis, then it is this: Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing not only fails to tell a compelling Nightwing story, but it also exemplifies a cynical, self-serving, and shallow approach to storytelling that prioritizes creating hollow viral moments to boost the creators’ own online popularity over crafting a good story, honoring the character in their care, and respecting his fans – fans who have, historically, often been women, queer folk, and other individuals who felt othered by a cisheteronormative patriarchal society. Taylor and Redondo’s thoughtless and superficial narrative not only undermine the socially progressive ideals they supposedly care for by propagating a cisheteronormative patriarchal worldview, but they also demonstrate a lack of love and understanding for the character in their care. At best, Taylor and Redondo have no interest in getting to know Dick Grayson, nor any respect for their predecessor and their contributions to this character. At worst, they despise Dick so much that they wish to reinvent him into something completely different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to appeal to a readership that never cared about Dick Grayson. 

I structured this essay so that, hopefully, each part will build on the ones that came prior. Naturally, because all aspects of a story are interlaced, there will be overlaps between each of the sections. As it may have become obvious from this introduction, I’ll be focusing primarily on the writing of this run. That is not to say that I will not address the art, but writing is the field I know most about, and so it feels only fair to focus my critique on that. 

I hope that by the end of this essay, I will have successfully proved that this run’s mishandling of different narrative elements betray a cynical appropriation of progressive ideology and a disregard and disinterest in what makes Dick Grayson so special to so many people. This is an attitude that is present within DC Comics’ current ethos as a whole.

Now, who is this essay for? Honestly, it’s probably not for Tom Taylor fans. I do not believe I’ll be persuading anyone with my writing, and, to be quite honest, neither would I say I wish to do so. Taylor and Redondo’s run has won numerous awards and has many dedicated fans who adore it for what it is. If that is you, then I’m glad. I wish I could be among your numbers. I wish more than anything that I could love this story. But I do not, and I know many others agree with me, and it is to them, I think, that I’m speaking to. As Taylor’s run is praised to heaven and back, I needed a safe space to voice my thoughts. This essay became this safe space. And to others who also feel unseen by the constant praise this run is getting, I think this could speak to you, as well. To be cliche and cringe, this will hopefully let you know that you are not alone. 

Finally, I want to acknowledge some people whose thoughts greatly contributed to the creation of this essay. For around three years now I’ve been having wonderful interactions with other Dick Grayson’s fans, and those discussions were not only incredibly fun and cathartic, but also provided great insight into what needed to be included in this essay. My best friend especially gave me a space to vent when I got frustrated, and my original outline borrowed a lot from the messages I sent her, as well as notes I took for our discussions.  

I’ll also be directly quoting four different Dick Grayson fans (identified as Dick Grayson Fans A, B, and C in order to allow them to keep their anonymity). Their analyses were so critical to the formation of my thesis and for a lot of what will be addressed in this essay that I actually feel like they deserve co-credit in this essay. Dick Grayson Fan B especially deserves a shoutout in helping me track down a couple of pages used as supporting evidence, as I knew what pages I was looking for but was having a hard time remembering in which issue they were located. I’m quoting them with permission, and crediting their ideas and contributions whenever relevant. 

Now, without any further ado, let’s get started. 

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 ✮⋆˙

synopsis: Your secretary Alhaitham and you have a tension full relationship, but he finally snaps after some miscommunication- or lack thereof!

tags: angst for like 1 second, explicit, cunnalingus, office setting, penetration, vulgar

wrd cnt: 1.9k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

As the CEO of a thriving business, you were known for your sharp wit and unmatched determination. Alhaitham, your steadfast secretary, had always admired you from a distance, his heart secretly harboring a deep affection for you. The dynamic between you two was a blend of professionalism and underlying emotion, a sentiment you both tried your best to hide. It was more than him getting you coffee each morning, more than the soft shoulder massages he’d give you at the end of the day, more than the glances you’d exchange at each meeting.

One evening, you find yourself mindless scrolling down a dating site. Half of you bored, half a little curious. You leave your computer on and exit your office on a lunch break.

Unfortunately for you...your secretary came in to deliver your papers and set them on your desk, glancing at the screen.

You hear the door open to the break room, Alhaitham entering.

"Ms. Y/n, would you like me to schedule anything for you this evening? Or are you doing something personal..." He asks, catching you off guard as it's not usual for him to pry like this.

"No it's fine, I do have something later tonight. Thank you though!" You reply. Watching Alhaithams eyes dim.

The night of the blind date arrived, you got ready with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You chose a stunning outfit and hoped the evening would be a pleasant distraction from all your stressors at work. However, as the night progressed, you realized your heart wasn't in it.

You find yourself subconsciously comparing your date to Alhaitham, his genuine care, and the way he always seemed to know what you always needed. He's always there, fixing things up, making your life so easy and balanced. He knew how to make you happy.

During a lull in the conversation, your date asked if everything was okay. You hesitated before admitting that your mind was elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham had decided to swing by the same restaurant after his work hours. It was one of his favorites and one he made you familiar with too, hence why you even decided to pick it for your date.

He had been feeling restless all evening, and a strange intuition led him there. And of course he saw you and your date, talking and spending an evening dinner together.

His heart raced, and he couldn't ignore the surge of emotion. He sat at the other end of the room for about 10 minutes; before getting up and leaving.

You stood up, your body reacting without your minds permission. You followed after him for 20 minutes. Your poor date left in confusion, but it didn't matter.

After not much longer you find Alhaitham back at the office.

You park your car adjacent to his and enter the building, feeling your knees shake as you felt like you did something wrong. You two had always had a sort of...tension. Unspoken, undelved, and more complicated than you could explain.

You're going up the elevator, you know exactly where he could be. Your intuition speaks true.

"Alhaitham!...there you are." You say in a sigh, catching him in your office, organizing the filing cabinet as his light green eyes cut through the air separating you two in the room.

You walk closer to him, the night sky illuminated by the lights of the city, the moon shining through the big glass walls of your corner office.

"Is something the matter? There's no work left on your agenda for tomorrow....l checked." He remarks, pretending like nothing had happened.

"Meaning you have none either...why are you here Alhaitham? You just- left? You didn't even say Hi..." You mention.

His head quickly turns as if you’ve offended him.

"You...wanted me to come talk to you while you were on a date with your partner?"

"My partner? I just met that guy tonight...why would that be a problem anyways?" You say.

Alhaithams scoffs, visibly trying to articulate himself in the professional manner he’s tried so hard to maintain with you.

"It's just-it's not appropriate, is all, we have a professional relationship, right?"

"Well, I mean I consider you a friend, you don't think the same?"

Alhaitham slams the filing cabinet shut, truthfully startling you.

"Your friend? I am your secretary. I plan your meetings, I make your spreadsheets, I bring you coffee, I make sure you finish your agenda, and I take care of all your needs."

"Then why are you acting like this...?" You say in a lighthearted tone, laughing smally. "What do you not approve of my date or something?" You laugh as you get closer to him, a little too close to call friendly.

You let that comment slip out of your mouth, and quickly it's replaced with Alhaithams tongue.

Pinning you to the wall you once leaned on as you spoke, now moaning into his mouth.

He pulls away, his lips touching you as he speaks. "I take care of you. I should be the one you spend your evening with. Right here. In this officer." He mutters, before you pull him back into the kiss.

You can't help but melt right into him, his grip now released from wrists as your hands wrap around his head, his hands holding your waist and the side of your face.

"I didn't know you felt that way...should have said something sooner."

"Well I'm saying it now. You're my boss. Mine to take care of. Mine."

The kiss doesn't last long before things get heated, your secretary now kissing down your neck...unbuttoning your top as his lips trial down your body. He throws your clothes nicely on top the chair nearby, as he works his way down your waist, leaving a trial of evidence down your body.

His jade green eyes glisten in the moonlight, as he drags your panties down with his teeth.

"You can't know how long l've wanted to do this... y/n. How long l've admired you, watched you, I serve you completely." He says, as you feel his warm breathe around out cunt.

"Alhaitham... what are y-" You're cut off, feeling Alhaithams mouth split your lips open, his tongue grazing up your folds and circling your clit. You try to stay standing, holding yourself up with a hand on the cabinet, your other on top of his head. He looks up at you frequently, as he kneels below of you: licking your hole and pumping his fingers inside it. He sucks on every part of your cunt, tasting every inch like his salary depends on it.

The feeling of his hands running up your thighs, and his mouth sucking on your swollen clit, push you over the edge in no time. The vibrations of Alhaithams moans send themselves into your cunt, forcing you to cum; all, over, his face.

You writher and squirm while your knees shake.

Feeling his large tongue lick every drop of cum that spills out of you. Wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and sucking it off, savoring you.

He comes back up and kisses you, making you taste yourself.

You kiss him deeply, wanting his tongue. You're both pulling at each other, pushing your bodies closer as you moan into each others mouths against the wall.

"Alhaitham...give me more." You say softly into his ear, as your hands rub his erecting through this pants. Your hand reacted faster than your mind, you couldn't believe this is what you and your secretary were doing right now, but you don't want to stop now.

"Y/n...let me, this is about you." He says, quickly lifting you up with his hands under your thighs, turning you around and dropping you softy on the wooden desk behind you two. Your desk.

He slowly undressed you, leaving you bare infront of him. You lift up your leg and prop it on the corner of the desk, you make him watch as you spread open your lips with two fingers, playing with your pussy while he undressed. "This is what you wanted huh? What a naught secretary."

His face got even more red, before he kissed you again. "You're what I want." He quickly says, before his mouth is latched onto your hard nipple, as the other gets rubbed and pinched by his hand.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's so fucking hot." He snared, biting and sucking your chest, softy enough to make it painless but feel so fucking good.

As Alhaitham works on your tits, his cock springs out of his last piece of clothing.

Leaving so much saliva and hickies on and around your puffy nipples, you're eyes meet with his cock. A slightly dark tan, with the prettiest shaft and a throbbing red tip; just waiting to fuck you.

"Please boss...tell me you'll have me. Let me take care of you."

"Then do it, it's your job, right?" You smirk, before you softy hiss at how good his cock felt gliding all over your folds, he slapped his tip on your clit and rubbed them together.

"God I can't wait..." He says, he grabs onto your hips, as you sit on the desk.

You look down at his cock while it starts to disappear into your sopping wet pussy. Each inch making you gasp and squirm.

"Fuck...Alhaitham, it's not going to all fit..." You hear him grunt, before slamming it all into you. "It has to...it all has to fit y/n, I need you to feel it." He says, as your mouth can't keep in any of the sounds it's making.

His thrusts are slow and calculated, his thumb rubs your sore, engorged clit, while his cock is feeling your walls.

You can't help but fall back as his thrusts get more desperate, shaking you along with the table; which you now lay on, your tits bouncing up and down with it.

"Tell me y/n, will you remember me every time you sit here? Will you remember my cock fucking your tight little hole, like this?" He says harshly, needing you to need him.

You can't even reply, as the only thing coming out of your mouth is his name as you clench around his thick cock.

His body drops down towards you, his arms holding himself up which now lay on both sides of your face, feeling his hair on your forehead.

He's grunting and moaning right into your hear, turning you on even more while his hard cock doesn't stop rutting into you.

"Y/n...fuck, please forgive me...I can't stop boss."

You continue to gasp at the feeling of his cock even more close to you now, as his lips find your neck once again and create more areas for you to hide the next morning.

"Y-Y/n... i'm so fucking close...l don't think I can-"

Alhaithams words find no finish, but he does; you can feel warm ropes of thick cum coat your walls.

You've already came on his cock so many times, but you finish again from the feeling of his release inside you. His breathe is heavy on your neck, his knees buck a few times while his cock still stuffs you, cum oozing out onto the table and the floor all the while.

The night ends with him licking all the cum off you, gently and so lovingly. Dressing you, kissing you softly as he fixes up your desk. Telling you how he's always yours, always there, always the one who will take care of you. Only him.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[kitsuneisi]

Hi doody and maruu!!

As someone who does doodles and writes about this au, I have some questions, so answer as many or as little as you want :D

Do the Emerald Soldiers and the government have a good relationship? Like do they work together at all or…?

Does being an avian automatically make you a part of Nexus? Or are you still considered “dangerous” by the average human or government if you have the wings? Like Jimmy, even if he isn’t a part of Nexus?

Is mumbo a human?

Does Scar hide his identity as an emerald soldier a secret for his own safety? Is being an Emerald Soldier considered a “bad thing” or are they just considered to be another police force?

Since the term “mutant” has now been narrowed down to the supposed “witches” and “sirens”, are there any other groups aside from Nexus that work against the government but are still mutants?

Will there be more recognition with Sirens as the story progresses?

Does Grian like mushrooms? :)

Will Grian’s reason for joining Nexus be explained through the story?

What do the other characters think about the Emerald Soldiers? Like for example, Mumbo, who knows about Grian’s secret identity, would he dislike the ES for attempting to attack/capture his friend?

That’s all, have a good day :D

Answer to the questions!

1. The emerald soldiers are a subdivision of the police department under the government jurisdiction. It's like the SWAT in the US

2. No, being an avian doesn't make you an automatic member of Nexus. Nexus is a revolutionary movement that works with the vigilante dynamic, trying to defend the people by unauthorized ways and giving attacks to the government system to destabilize it. Deryn (the original character who is the leader of Nexus) and grian just happen to both be avians. There are more characters like Jimmy, skizz and other characters who will eventually appear who are avians but aren't part of Nexus.

3. Yes, mumbo is human. But scar things he might be a vampire since he is really pale and always has red stuff around him (it's more a bit than a genuine belief)

4. Being an emerald soldier is not seen as a bad thing, on contrary they are well perceived, and in hotguy case is almost like he was a celebrity. Scar keeps his identity hidden as a way to protect him from possible attacks while he is out of service by orders of his superiors and a way to keep his privacy as a more personal motivation.

5. There probably is, but the other organizations are probably more of charities and social protection services rather than another vigilante group. But that doesn't take away the possibility of solo vigilantes without an organization.

6. Yes, there will be sirens soon

7. I think he likes them like any other food.

8. It will be explain the reason why Grian joined Nexus and his early years

9. Mumbo has a negative view of the emerald soldiers. He thinks they are cowards and that they sell themselves to the government with their humanity (but he does think hg is quite the handsome lad)

[gabgabwrites]

LOVE ON THE LINE | Art Donaldson [part 2]

summary ⇝ your and Art’s relationship progresses in college where you two find yourself in love with one another, with many promises on the line and a ring on your finger, what is there to lose? One word: everything.

warnings ⇝ swearing, kissing, cheating/affair, children, smut! p in v, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, gagging, blindfold, oral (F), cum eating, marking, clothed sex, allusion to car sex, mentions of Patrick x reader.

read part 1 here

note: this is messy relationship

You and Art Donaldson were finally official. The transition from friends to something more had been surprisingly smooth, marked by a moment of sweet vulnerability on your third date at the cinema.

It was there, amidst the flickering lights and the hushed whispers of other moviegoers, that Art shyly asked you to be his girlfriend. You had smiled warmly, feeling your own heart skip a beat as you agreed, watching the relief and joy wash over Art's face, turning him into a lovesick puppy right before your eyes.

Art couldn't seem to take his eyes off you after that. His blue eyes, speckled with hints of brown, became a constant presence, following your every move. Whether it was during lunch breaks on campus at Stanford or late-night study sessions in the library, his gaze was always on you. It was both thrilling and comforting to be the center of his attention, knowing that you had become someone incredibly special to him.

During those lunch breaks, Art would sit so close to you that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, sending gentle tingles across your skin. His presence was reassuring, anchoring you in a world that sometimes felt chaotic and uncertain. You cherished those quiet moments together, sharing sandwiches and conversations that ranged from silly jokes to deep dreams about the future.

Art wasn't just attentive; he was also surprisingly thoughtful. He remembered the little details about you—your favorite coffee order, the way you liked to organize your notes, and even your secret fondness for cheesy romantic comedies. He would surprise you with small gestures, like leaving a handwritten note in your textbook or bringing you a hot drink on chilly mornings before class. Each gesture made your heart swell with affection for him, knowing that he was investing time and effort into nurturing your relationship.

He'd sneak out from his dorm to go to yours, where you'd often find yourself with your lips locked together. Spit dribbling down your chin while you both pathetically ground your hips together in a feeble attempt to relinquish pleasure. Dark purple marks would litter his skin by the time you were done, and your thighs would stick together from your recent endeavours.

Of course there was Tashi, who had broken up with Patrick after finding out that he was unfaithful to her, the last they spoke was when she injured her knee. You remember being there, in the nurse's ward, fingers intertwined with Tashi's to comfort her after her knee had seriously sprained. Her quiet sniffles filled the room before Patrick Zweig had come barrelling in, pleading for Tashi's attention only to be shown the cold shoulder.

Tashi had changed, not only physically, her hair a little shorter and her face was more mature, but she lost her spark after the injury, one that guaranteed her to never touch a single racket no matter how hard she tried—in her eyes, her future was over.

She had always talked about tennis, but now she hyper fixated on it, she's constantly talk about your form and how you could approve, you always listened and took her advice, but that was it. You'd try to talk about other stuff, like how you were excited to meet Art's parents, or how you hated your physics professor, but alas, the main focus was tennis.

You had a game that afternoon, and of course, both Art and Tashi were there. Before, Art had snuck into the locker room, after making sure it was just you in there, before his arms were around you and his nose nudged yours. "Good luck," He told you, big smile etched on his face.

"I won't need it if you're here," You said back, grabbing the collar of his polo shirt and bringing his lips down onto yours. The kiss had to break when another girl walked in and shrieked, leaving Art flushed from embarrassment while you had to hide your smile.

The match itself was a blur of adrenaline and determination. As you stepped onto the court, you felt the weight of Art and Tashi's encouragement spurring you on. Their presence in the stands, cheering and clapping, fueled your determination to perform your best. You could see Art's animated gestures of support, his eyes never leaving you as you played.

Despite a few tense moments and fierce competition from your opponent, you emerged victorious. The rush of adrenaline was matched only by the pride in Art's eyes as he pulled you into a tight hug after the match. Tashi's smile, though more subdued, conveyed a deep sense of satisfaction and pride in your achievement.

Then one day, everything changed. It was probably one of the moments in your life where you felt the most hurt. There was a dramatic shift between you and Art in your relationship, he became distant and you became quiet. You had both agreed to end things, you remember the night you did, you sat in your room, sobbing. Tashi was put in a different dorm, so you had to drag yourself off your bed, cheeks wet with tears, and walk a few passages until you faced her dorm's door.

You knocked against it once, then twice, but no answer. You looked down to where light shone from the crack underneath the door, you could even see shadows dancing so there had to be someone in there. You knocked again, harder, yet still got ignored. You waded back to your dorm, face buried in your pillow as you cried some more.

Two months since that incident passed, things had improved. Tashi became more talkative to you, you hadn't told her about that night, and if she knew, she didn't bring it up.

Then there was Art, who one day came crawling back, begging for you to let him into your heart again. You knew you had to deny him. You knew it was what was right. You didn't believe in second chances, but for Art, you made an exception.

Things were still patchy between the two of you, you weren't back to square one but you weren't exactly back to how they used to be. You decided to ask him why he went distant and what he did during your time apart.

"School and tennis got the better of me," He said. "I was so so stupid to let that get in the way between us. It won't happen again," And he was right, he somehow managed to get everything sorted and execute his plans accordingly. He also told you that while on your 'break', he had practiced more tennis and studied. He told you he had to ask Tashi for advice.

Fast forward three years later, and life had taken a remarkable turn for both you and Art Donaldson. Graduating from college marked the beginning of a promising journey towards becoming world-renowned tennis players. The countless hours of practice, the sacrifices made, and the unwavering support for each other had culminated in you both achieving your dreams.

Art, with his infectious enthusiasm and competitive spirit, was your perfect match both on and off the court. His sense of humor and spontaneity kept life exciting, whether you were training together or exploring new cities during tournaments. As your careers soared, so did your relationship, growing stronger with each shared victory and overcoming every setback together.

Then, one magical evening at a lakeside restaurant, Art surprised you with a proposal that took your breath away. It was classic Art—cheesy yet endearing, thoughtful yet spontaneous. After a delightful dinner overlooking the serene lake, he suggested a walk and led you to a secluded dock adorned with candles and rose petals. With a heart full of love and nerves, he knelt down, producing the most stunning ring you had ever seen. The words spilled out earnestly, and you couldn't help but say yes, tears of joy glistening in your eyes.

From that moment on, everything seemed even more perfect. You ascended to become the women's champion in tennis, while Art mirrored your success on the men's side. Together, you became the U.S.'s elite power couple, celebrated not only for your athletic prowess but also for your genuine love and support for each other.

However, the pinnacle of your joy came on your wedding day—a day that felt surreal, like a dream wrapped in hues of love and anticipation. The venue was adorned with flowers, the air filled with music that resonated with your hearts. Walking down the aisle, emotions surged through you—a mix of excitement, nerves, and overwhelming happiness.

Art stood at the altar, his trademark grin stretching from ear to ear, his curly hair slightly tousled by the gentle breeze. His eyes, reflecting his deep affection for you, met yours as you approached him, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. The exchange of vows was heartfelt and tender, promising a future filled with love, laughter, and unwavering support. As the ring slid onto your finger, sealing your union as Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson, you felt a rush of emotions—gratitude for finding your soulmate, excitement for the adventures ahead, and a profound sense of belonging in his arms.

The reception was a celebration of your love story, with friends and family cheering as you danced the night away. Each glance exchanged, each touch shared, spoke volumes of the bond you had forged through dedication, trust, and mutual admiration.

And the consummation of your marriage was on a whole new level.

You still wore your wedding dress, sitting on the small foot stool while Art's head ducked under the white skirt of your dress, his tongue trailing up the length of your thigh before meeting your lacy underwear. His tongue soaked your panties more than what they were, sucking on your clit that hardened with want.

His eyes rolled right back when your thighs closed around his skull, suffocating him. He used his strength and pried your legs apart. He worked skilfully to slip your panties off, now face to face with your arousal. Art thought how ethereal the scene in front of him looked. Your dewy pussy, dripping and throbbing, crowned by the one of a kind wedding dress.

You couldn't see Art, except for the mound where his head was. You watched as it dropped when Art connected his lips back to your pussy, making you grab the sides of your dress and bunch it up in your palms with pleasure. "You make me feel so good, Art."

That spurred him on. His fingers dug into the plush of your thighs while his tongue lapped at your folds, spit and arousal coated the whole of his face from the tip of his nose down. He was on his knees, hips thrusting into nothingness, he got high off your pleasure.

Between your moans and grunts, you could hear the wet sounds of his spit and your pussy, and his whimpers and whines. His tongue would go from your needy hole to your throbbing clit. His suckled and lick, spit and slurp you up until his name fell from your lips, cumming on his tongue.

When he came out from under your skirt, his cheeks were flushed, his lips were saturated and bruised, his hair was messy and his face was shiny with slick. "Come here, my baby," You cooed, grabbing him by the tie and kissing his lips. There was nothing short of delicate. It was full of desire, passion and love.

Your makeup was already ruined by the time he started kissing you, so you didn't mind when it got messier. Mouths open, hot kisses and shared saliva. Art used his strength and picked you up, carrying you over to the bed where he placed you down, immediately pushing you backwards onto your back so he could cage you in.

Your fingers worked to undo his tie, placing that to the side of the bed before popping his shirt's buttons open, exposing his pale torso. His blazer had come off, and his belt was loose. Your hands went to his shoulders and pushed him to the side, forcing him to roll onto his back.

You wasted to time to straddle him, leaning forward to connect your lips once again. You gently took ahold of his hands, breaking the kiss, and leaning to the side to retreat his tie. "What are you doing?" He asked, voice rough with arousal. He watched you bring his two wrists together before looping the tie around. He got a sense of an idea, making his throat bob.

"I want to try something new, is that okay?" You asked, he eagerly nodded making you smile. This moment reminded you a lot of when you two first had sex, you reminisced about the moment as you gazed upon your lover. White collared shirt open, showing his muscular body, hands wrapped up in his tie, hair askew and the common blush on his cheeks.

Bending forward at the waist, you kissed him once again, except this time, confusion clouded Art's mind when he felt something material brush his cheek. In a split second, your lips left his before something was shoved into his mouth.

Art had no hands to take it out and struggled with his tongue to spit it out, blonde eyebrows drawn together in confusion while you sat up to look at him. "It's my underwear, Art."

'Oh,' He thought, it surprised him, yet the idea of having your panties that he previously ate you out through in his mouth turned him on even more. His saliva soaked the underwear, his teeth clamped down on the lace.

You moved down slightly, going to properly undo his belt before sliding his pants down, Art raising his hips to help you. You didn't bother with foreplay, freeing his hard cock, pink tip leaking already, twitching once exposed. It took a hot minute to move your dress up your waist, now bunched at your hips, using one hand, you positioned his cock at your entrance before looking up at Art.

"You ready for me to fuck you? For Mrs Donaldson to fuck her husband?" You asked, Art nodded, a muffled plea escaped his lips, turning into a moan when you sunk down on his length. He watched you bite your lip, your hands on his ribs before he felt you slip off, then sink on him again.

Art choked on your panties when he moaned, so he opted to close his mouth around them and suck on the fabric, trying to taste you. Heavy pants and whimpers came from breaths our his nose. Your painted lips, smudged and blotchy fell open.

Art felt a desire, he raised his tied hands and managed to stick out a finger, bringing it to your lips. He watched your lips close around his fingertip before softly sucking away.

You snaked a hand to where you two met, and pressed your finger on your clit. Your wrist jerker from side to side, making you feel like hot lava was boiling in your tummy, this pleasure had you biting down on Art's finger, making him softly whine out in pain.

You don't know why you came as quickly as you did, gushing around Art's cock as you orgasmed for the second time. The feeling of you unravel had Art cumming just as fast, spilling his hot seed deep inside you.

Your hips slowed, taking a minute to lift your hips, his soft cock falling out. With a heavy sigh, you lay next to him, brushing his sweaty curls away, his eyes trained on yours, chest heaving. With a soft chuckle, you brought your fingers to his lips and pulled your panties out, coated in his saliva. "A little help here, please?" He raised his hands to you, allowing for you to undo his tie.

It caught you by surprise when you felt him grip the tie, now hands free, before snatching it out of your grasp. He scraped up some strength, on wobbly legs and got off the bed. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed, his strong hands found your ankles and yanked them, pulling your hips against his.

He climbed on top of the bed again, tie in hand. "You do a lot for me, so I want to do this for you," He told you softly, face hovering over yours. There was a pause, Art staring deep into your eyes, before he swallowed. "I've been think about you, about us, and I want to start a family."

"Yeah?" Your heart swelled in your chest, you felt your cheeks burn at the thought, that Art did not only see you as a wife, but a mother to his future children. "I'd really like that too."

Art smiled down at you. He didn't say anything, instead just maintaining eye contact. You could see the emotions behind his blue eyes, he had a much love and admiration for you, that it was overflowing. "So you trust me, right?"

"More than anything," You watched Art nod, before your vision went black. Art was tying his tie around your eyes, taking away your vision.

You felt him lift your one leg, his lips on your ankle as he placed soft kisses on the skin there before it was placed on his shoulder. Your dress was moved up again, exposing you to him.

Art could feel himself harden again. He took his cock into his hand and pumped it until it was fully erect. His pink tip nudged at your folds before he spoke up. "I love you," he said, holding his breath as he waited for a response.

He watched your lips part, exposing your teeth in a smile. "I love you too, Art."

Art waited for any hesitation before releasing his breath, pushing himself into you. He watched your pussy swallow him again before he began to thrust his hips. The both of you were already so sensitive, Art gripped your leg for support, his eyes caught sight of his ring that reflected the light.

His teeth grazed your calf, goosebumps rose in its path. Having one sense taken away had increased the others. Not being able to see Art made this ever the more arousing. "Mm, you're so good to me," Art moaned.

"You're the one that's...fucking me," You said with a choked chuckle, words being swallowed by your moans. "Oh g-god, you fuck me so good," Art bit his lip, already on the verge of another orgasm. He let his one hand find yours, holding the hand that had your ring on it, diamond shining brightly.

His thumb rubbed the shiny stone, a truckload of unspoken promises guaranteed by the small diamond. Art couldn't wait for you two to move into a luxurious apartment and have a family, have a creation of both your undying love for each other run around and call you 'mommy' and 'daddy'. He couldn't wait to grow old with you, watch your child grow up and start a family of their own.

He'd wait lifetimes for you in the heavens and stars if it meant your souls could spend every waking moment together. You were his, and he was yours.

"Ah, fuck Art! 'm cumming!" You mewled. Cum flooding from you like a broken dam wall. Art wasn't far behind, his arousal mingling with yours for the nth time. Your name fell from his lips.

He slipped out to help clean you up, undoing the tie around your eyes, carrying you to the bathroom—albeit on wobbly legs, and run you a bath.

That was six years ago. Now the two of you lived in a fancy apartment. Your wedding ring sparkled under the bright chandelier as you stirred your cup of coffee. You had four mugs lined together. Once all drinks were made, you set them on the table.

You walked around to your room to find your husband sitting on the bed, book open. "Your coffee's ready," You told him, he looked up from the book and gave you a curt smile and nod.

Art had changed over the years, his youth had faded and how replaced with mature features. His hair was shorter now, not having his luscious curls you loved. Scars littered his body where he had to have stitches from tennis related injuries.

You walked out of Art's room and down the passage, stepping into another bedroom. "Your hot chocolates are ready," you told the two five-year-olds. They both turned to you with happiness before bouncing past you.

"Thank you, Mommy," your little girl, Mila, said, bringing the pink mug to her lips and slurping away. She then slammed the mug down and whipped her head toward her brother, pigtails flying as she did. "Say thank you."

"I was gonna!" Zachary, your son and twin brother to Mila, retorted. His eyes found yours, his heterochromia always catching you off guard: his left eye brown, and his right blue. "Thank you, Momma."

"It's only a pleasure," you smiled at the twins, watching them drink away. You felt a warm arm wrap around your shoulders before a pair of lips were placed on your temple.

"Thank you, my love," Art mumbled against your hair before he too picked up his mug of coffee and took a sip. You picked yours up and brought it to your lips, savoring the warmth and the rare quiet moment in your bustling household.

"I'm going to meet up with Tashi later for lunch, m'kay?" you told your husband, who nodded.

"When can we see Auntie Tashi again?" Mila asked, her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement.

"Maybe on Sunday, remember Daddy has a match on Saturday," you replied, glancing at Art, who smiled back at you.

"We'll make time for a visit soon, sweetheart," Art reassured Mila, ruffling her hair affectionately. "I know you both love spending time with Auntie Tashi," The kids finished their hot chocolates, and you helped them clean up before they dashed off to play with their toys. You and Art stood in the kitchen, enjoying the rare moment of peace and sipping your drinks.

Three days had passed, it was not nearing evening. Art had a fan meet-and-greet to attend, which would only end in an hour and a half's time.

You had just dropped off the twins at your mom's for Friday night like you always did. You stood in the lobby of your apartment, waiting for the lift when a voice called your name.

Your eyes widened in surprise once you turned to see who called you. "Patrick?" You hadn't seen them man in years. Last you saw him was when you were still in school. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for dinner," He smiled sheepishly, pointing to some brunette woman who was staring at the two of you, when making eye contact, she was quick to look the other way. "Uh, congratulations by the way," He pointed towards your wedding band, making you cross your arms.

"Thank you, Zweig. If this is all, goodnight," You spun on your heel, only to have your arm grabbed and yourself pulled back. "Hey!"

"Wait, can we talk. Please?"

"There's nothing to talk about Patrick. Last I heard from you was me telling you to 'fuck off' after breaking Tashi's heart," You snapped.

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry for how things turned out. It's just... there's something you have to know." Patrick's eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes held a sincerity that made your heart pound. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Where's Art?"

"At a fan meet-up," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"He's not," Patrick said firmly, making you scoff and shake your head. "I promise you, he's not. And I can tell you exactly where he is."

"Oh yeah? Then where is he, Patrick? If you know my husband so well," you challenged, crossing your arms defensively.

Patrick chewed on his bottom lip, choosing his next words very carefully. "He's cheating on you, right now, with Tashi."

“And you expect me to believe you?” You scoffed. “I mean, I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t think you’d stop this low and—.”

“I swear I’m not lying,” He interjected. “I heard about this fan meet-up and it’s not until Sunday.” He told you, making you shake your head. “Remember that time when the two of you broke up? And he told you he was getting training from Tashi? That was bullshit, Art’s tennis playing is goddamn near perfect, instead be went to her and found his way between her legs.”

“Y-You’re making this all up,” You denied, you didn’t want to believe your fairytale ending was all receipt. “I’ll call him right now even.”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t answer, he’s probably too busy sucking off Tashi’s face. The two haven’t said anything because they felt bad. Things were awkward between the three of you, am I right? Art realised how much he messed up and went back to you, only to do the same thing.”

You rolled your eyes, fishing your phone from your purse before punching in Art’s number. You pressed the metal device to your ear and waited. It rung, and rung, and rung, before a beep was heard. ‘You have reached the voice mail of Art Donaldson, please leave a—.’

You sucked your teeth before slamming the phone shut. “He’s probably busy.”

“Yeah, making out with your best friend.”

“And how do you expect to be actually believe you?”

“I’ve known Art since we were 12, he may seem all cute and cuddly, but trust me, he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Patrick watched as your bottom lip wobbled a smidge before you took it between your teeth. “You have to believe me.”

“Where’s the evidence?” You asked him. Patrick sighed before shaking his head. You watched as he retrieved a small piece of paper and a broken pencil from his pocket before scribbling on it.

“My number, if you ever want to talk,” He sighed, passing you the paper. “Goodnight,” with that, he turned around and walked back to his date, leaving you alone and confused.

That night, you lay in bed while Art was coming out from the bathroom. You wanted to ask him if he was actually at a fan meet-and-greet, or if he was out, having an affair. You laughed quietly to yourself, imagine how embarrassing it would be if you accused him of cheating and it all being fake, how bad you’d look, how you’d raise suspicion.

Art climbed in the bed next to you, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek, arm pulling you into him. “I love you,” He said, moving back to stare at you with twinkling blue eyes before smiling and leaning back to rest his head on the pillow.

You could not bring yourself to echo his words, heart breaking in your chest as your eyes bore into the purple and red mark on his neck, it looked fresh and raw. It definitely wasn’t you, you and Art hadn’t bad sex in over two months.

You just nodded to yourself, turning your head to blink back tears. “I know.”

Art went silent at your choice of words, letting out a sigh before turning around, switching off his bedside lamp and falling asleep.

You did the same, except you could not fall asleep. There was no way, no fucking way. Where had it gone wrong? Why did it go wrong? Were you not good enough? How long had this been going on for? All these questions swarmed your mind.

You lay restlessly before sighing, sitting up and grabbing your phone. Quietly you got out of bed and out the room where you grabbed a long coat and slippers, putting them on. You found the small piece of paper and dialled the number on there.

So that’s how you found yourself in Patrick’s car by some cheap gas station. Tears staining your cheeks while Patrick watched you solemnly. “Tell me how you found out about all this, and I didn’t?” You asked him.

“Tashi told me, we had met up after the first time they… and she confessed. She told me how bad she felt, but also told me she couldn’t bear to tell you. Um, Tashi and I have been meeting up, if you know what I mean, she told me how she planned to meet Art this evening, when I asked why, she kept quiet.”

You let out a broken sigh. “Okay Patrick, now what?” You turned to him. “I mean, why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to, it’s just…you two seemed so happy—.”

“So you didn’t want to ruin it? Thanks, Patrick. No really. But I think I better get going,” You shook your head, going to undo your seatbelt before a hand on yours stopped you.

“I know you’re hurting, and I know how to help,” Suddenly his breath of on your ear. You dare not move to look. “This won’t hurt him as much as he’s hurt you.”

“I’m not a cheater, Patrick,” You whispered out.

“No, but you’re petty,” His words caused you to let out a breathy laugh. “You like to get even, it feels right,” His hand found its way on your thigh, a grin spreading on his lips when you didn’t stop him. “I’ll help you get even.”

Call yourself a monster and a heartless bitch for turning to face Patrick, smashing your lips on his. His hand unbuckling your seat belt, allowing for you to slide onto his lap, hands groping you everywhere. “Help me forget, Patrick,” You moaned against his lips.

“I will, baby. I will,” And he did. Any thoughts of Art and Tashi melted away faster and faster as you lost more items of clothing.

The sun beat down on your shoulders the following day, your head would love to and fro, eyes trained on the green ball that whizzed between Patrick and Art in the final match of the whole tournament. Patrick was winning, some on his own and some penalty points.

Sweat dripped down your husband’s face, he licked his lips to ridden the salty liquid. Patrick was much the same. When he felt you looked, he smirked, making you scoff and look away. You watched the clock tick by before it was half time, Art dipping his shirt off as he sat down, taking out his bottle while Patrick ate on a banana.

When the game resumed, Patrick was first to serve. His racket swung above his head, he adjusted his grip before he stalled.

You watched his brown eyes flicker to you, the corner of his lips rose, before his eyes went back to Art. He dropped his hand, kicking his left leg out a little before holding his racket and waist height, other hand holding the ball, placed the ball by the throat of the racket.

You turned to look at Art, after noticing that’s how he holds a racket. You watched his eyes move to you and his expression fall. A distant look in his eye. Patrick served the ball and it went straight past Art, who didn’t bother to hit it.

You seemed puzzled by this, watching Art’s head drop before he got a ball from the ball-boy. Like a switch, Art was playing ferociously, now winning every serve he had.

You watched with amazement as Art let out a roar, jumping high into the air, foot touching the net as he won an ace before he came tumbling into Patrick’s arms, both males bursting into smiles.

What had just happened?

[teapartyprincess4two]

Unplanned- C. Sturniolo

pairing: TeenMom!reader x TeenDad!Chris

classification: fluff, high school sweethearts

warnings: teen pregnancy, suggestive content but no smut, unplanned pregnancy, unexpected child, mentions of unprotected sex but no smut, mention of throwing up & nausea, some cursing, use of y/n, long

summary: Becoming a teen mom was never in your plans, but you and Chris had to learn to make the best of it.

—

Yours and Chris’s love story was long and intricate, full of details and secrets only you two would understand. It started from an early age and only progressed as you two grew older.

You met Chris when you were just kids. The two of you were attached at the hip, always wanting to do everything together. You’d ride your bikes around the neighborhood and stay up all night playing video games. If you weren’t there, Chris wasn’t interested. If Chris didn’t do it, neither did you. You were best friends from the very beginning.

When you entered middle school, the two of you became even more inseparable. You went through an awkward stage of your lives together that included acne, growth spurts, and puberty. Middle school is a brutal time for any child, but you and Chris got through it together. Bullies and mean girls lurked in every classroom, but as long as you had Chris it was okay. You were ready to defend him if necessary and he was ready to do the same.

Eventually you entered high school and the two of you matured into young adults. Around this time all your friends began dating, but you were too attached to Chris for any boys to ask you out. Towards the end of your freshman year you realized that what you felt for Chris went beyond friendship. Those feelings only grew stronger as the school year progressed, but you were too young to understand them, so you suppressed them as much as possible.

Some time during the summer between freshman and sophomore year, Chris realized he felt the same about you. Chris confided in his brothers about his newfound crush for you and whenever you’d come around they’d tease him relentlessly about it. It never became awkward between you, though, instead you grew the courage to confess your feelings to Chris. And, to your surprise, he admitted he felt the same.

The two of you spent that summer exploring this new relationship and became even more bonded than you already were. You entered sophomore year as a couple and dated all throughout high school, falling more in love with each passing day. You shared so many firsts with Chris; your first date, your first kiss, and your first time. Everything was special because you were sharing it with Chris, he was your soulmate. Your relationship was beautiful, it was perfect.

Senior year rolled around quicker than expected, and before you knew it, it was prom night. Chris organized an elaborate promposal for you in the middle of the school’s court yard, complete with a banner, a bouquet of roses, and confetti. Everything about that moment was perfect, earning adoring looks from every other student who watched you grow as a couple over the years.

Prom night was a solidifying moment in your relationship with Chris because as it was the first time you had sex without a condom. It felt like the perfect night to completely give yourself to one another, and if you were careful, there wouldn’t be any consequences. After this night, the two of you grew stronger in your relationship. Nothing was able to break you apart even though so many people tried. If it wasn’t a mean girl it was a jock who tried catching one of your attention, but it never worked. You and Chris were locked in, you were fully committed and in it for the long haul.

After prom the only high school milestone left to complete was graduation. Although your younger years were flying by in a whirl, you were excited to enter a new chapter with Chris. The two of you had so many dreams and plans for your future together. You spent countless nights discussing it all, but you were both so naive then. Chris would gush about the luxuries he’d provide for you as adults including a house with a pool, too many cars, and anything else you wanted.

You two were about to learn the harsh reality of life the hard way.

—

It’s graduation day and you’re buzzing with excitement and nerves, this really was the end of an era for you. “You ready?” Chris asks, a huge smile plastered on his face. He couldn’t wait to graduate and start a new chapter with you that didn’t include homework and tardy bells. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply as you adjust your cap and gown. You felt extremely nauseous, but you chalked it up to nerves. You were about to cross the stage and officially enter adulthood, who wouldn’t be nervous?

Chris gives you a quick peck before grabbing your hand and leading you into the school auditorium. You take a deep breath in attempt to calm your nerves, it’s just graduation you’ll be fine. As the ceremony progresses you can’t help but feel even worse, but you try your best to ignore it so you can cross the stage and get this over with.

When you finally cross the stage you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from throwing up, you don’t even make it back to your seat, instead running off to the bathroom with your diploma. Chris watches from his seat in confusion and worry, where were you going? He silently excuses himself and follows behind you, trying to keep up with you as you run down the halls. You barge into the bathroom, rushing into the first available stall and hunching over the toilet, immediately spewing out this mornings breakfast.

When there’s nothing else for you to throw up, you slump down onto the dirty bathroom floor and rest again the cold tile walls of the stall. You feel exhausted, a looming headache growing from the pressure caused by vomiting. Either something was seriously wrong or you ate something yesterday that didn’t sit well with you, but you knew this was NOT just nerves. You’ve never been this nervous before, it was just graduation it’s not like you had to present an award or recite a speech.

“Y/n?” Chris asks cautiously from outside the restroom, he opens the door slightly to see if you’re even in there. “In here,” you respond quietly, pushing yourself off the floor and to the sink. He walks in timidly, not sure if there was anyone else in here with you, but when he realizes it’s just you he immediately asks what’s wrong.

“I’m fine, just a little anxious,” you lie.

Chris squints his eyes at you as he watches you wash your hands feverishly and rinse out your mouth. He knew you were lying, but he wasn’t going to press it. “Well the ceremony is over. We were going to go eat, but I can ask Matt to take us home?” he’s rubbing your back lovingly, he knows something’s wrong but you don’t want to tell him. You smile at him through the mirror, drying your hands quickly so you can get out of this restroom as soon as possible.

“Yes please,” you reply quietly, grabbing your diploma and adjusting your cap. You do a once over in the mirror, trying to ensure that there’s nothing gross left over on your gown.

Once you’re sure you’re fine, you and Chris walk back out into the auditorium to find Matt and Nick.

—

Summer is the best time of all, especially now that your fun won’t be cut short once August rolls around and school starts up again. This felt like an endless summer and you were ready to spend every second of it with your boyfriend.

It was the second week of June and you were out swimming with Chris, his brothers, and a couple of your friends. Well they were swimming, you were sitting in a lawn chair by the pool, too tired to swim.

You’ve been feeling tired and sick ever since graduation, but you didn’t tell anyone because deep down you know it’s something serious. You’ve noticed how tired you look, your small but sudden weight gain, and your consistent morning sickness. All the symptoms pointed to one thing: pregnancy. But you suppressed the thought out of your head and tried your best to enjoy the summer.

“Babe, come in!” Chris calls out to you as he flails his arms around in the water, splashing some of it on you in the process. “I will in a bit. I’m trying to tan,” you reply, hoping he’ll believe your lie and go back to your friends. He can see right through you, though, so of course he doesn’t believe you. Chris hoists himself up from the water by the edge of the pool, jogging towards you as water drips off of him.

“What’s wrong? You love swimming,” he comments as soon as he’s close enough to you, taking a seat at the foot of the lawn chair. A sudden whiff of chlorine water and sunscreen from Chris hits you, causing you to instantly become nauseous, but you hold it back as you reply, “I’m fine, babe. I’m just a little tired.” He hums in response, allowing his wet hands to wander on your bare skin.

His hands begin rubbing along your thighs, “You look so sexy, babe.” You chuckle a little at this, pushing his hands off you playfully before replying, “Don’t be weird. We’re in public.” A goofy smile adorns his face as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips, his hands traveling dangerously close to the strings of your bikini. “I’m not being weird, I just love my girlfriend,” his voice is sultry as he attempts to seduce you, kissing you again.

“Let’s go to the restroom.”

Another whiff of chlorine water and sunscreen hits you, and this time you can’t hold back the gag. You cover your mouth immediately, standing abruptly from the lawn chair and rushing to the restroom. Chris watches in confusion, wondering what the hell he did to warrant that response as he follows behind you. You’re once again hunched over a toilet in a dirty stall throwing up everything in your stomach.

“What the fuck? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” a million questions come from Chris as he crouches next to you and holds your hair out of your face. This is the second time you’ve suddenly gotten sick out of nowhere, except this time he’s going to make sure you tell him what’s wrong whether you like it or not.

At this point you’re tired, nauseous, embarrassed, and you have a headache; you can’t help but start crying. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Chris assures you, hugging you close and rubbing circles into your back. He was always good at consoling you, but today you were so distressed that the tears just kept flowing.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? You can tell me.”

The thing is that you didn’t know what was wrong, you only had suspicions, and those suspicions were too scary to admit out loud. “I don’t know,” you reply through sobs, shaking your head at the idea of possibly being pregnant. Chris can tell that whatever this is, it’s serious, but he doesn’t know how to navigate this situation yet. All he can do is help you clean up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispers lovingly as he presses a kiss to your forehead and guides you towards the sink.

—

When you’ve finally calmed down you tell Chris the truth of what you think is going on. He’s taken aback, there’s no way you’re pregnant, right? You two were always safe, always concious of the consequences that come from being unprotected.

“Are you sure? We’re always safe. We’ve never had a scare before,” he tries to reason, thinking of every time the two have had sex in the last month or two. He’s almost 100% sure you weren’t pregnant.

“Prom,” you whisper, looking down at the floor as you hold back your tears. If you were pregnant you wouldn’t know what to do. You and Chris were only 18, still really young to be having a baby. There were so many dreams and plans you had, both as individuals and as a couple, that you’d never be able to do with a baby. How were you going to navigate your relationship if you took a test and it came back positive? You weren’t ready to be a mom. What was Chris going to do? He was fresh out of high school, he was even less ready to be a dad.

The realization hits him as he remembers prom night. “Holy fuck,” he replies with wide eyes, the situation suddenly becoming too real. “Have you taken a test?” he’s holding you gently by your elbows, searching your eyes for something. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, maybe reassurance that you two will be okay if this is real, but he’s trying not to panic. “Not yet,” your reply is a small glimpse of hope that maybe this is just a scare.

You and Chris dismiss yourself from your friends, dragging Nick and Matt along with you as you make your way to the nearest drug store. You had to find out immediately whether or not this suspicion was true.

Chris instructed Matt and Nick to wait in the car as you made your way into the drug store, they were confused out of their minds as to what was going on, but complied. You searched the aisles feverishly and purchased two pregnancy tests for safe measure.

Before you go into the restroom, Chris stops you and pulls you into a hug, “No matter what happens, it’s gonna be okay.” Even though you’re still scared, the comment warms your heart.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He kisses your forehead again before letting you go into the restroom. This moment was going to determine your future, and he wanted you to know that he was with you no matter what.

After what seemed like forever, you finally come back out of the restroom with both pregnancy tests in hand. “So?” Chris asks expectantly, chewing on his finger nails nervously. “I haven’t checked yet. I’m scared, Chris,” you reply, looking down at the pregnancy tests that are face down in your hands. “Let’s look together,” he takes one test from you.

You take a second to collect your thoughts before meeting Chris’s gaze, both of you flipping the test at the same time, but still not looking down. “I’m scared,” you say again, the nerves causing an unsettling feeling to loom over you. Chris is scared too, too scared to face the truth, so he lets you bite the bullet.

You break your gaze from his, looking down at the pregnancy test in your hand. Your stomach drops, a shocked gasp escaping your lips. This can’t be a good sign, so Chris immediately follows suit and looks at the pregnancy tests.

“Holy fuck,” he says. You were pregnant.

Matt and Nick are impatiently waiting in the car. They watch as you and Chris walk towards the car with unreadable expressions on your face, looking pale as ever. “What the fuck took so long?” Nick complains as soon as you two enter the vehicle. You sit there in silence, looking forward and dissociating completely.

“Y/n’s pregnant,” Chris says, still in shock.

Matt and Nick face you in their seats with their mouths agape, “Holy fuck.”

—

The next couple of months were hard. You and Chris had to suck it up and tell your parents, none of them were happy, but they can’t say they didn’t see it coming. You were forced to grow up as you and Chris began preparing to become parents, but you always made the best of it.

You swelled up very quickly, your protruding belly a constant reminder of the baby you and Chris were bringing into the world. Neither of you were ready for a baby, but you learned to come to terms with it over the span of your pregnancy. Chris was now actually very excited to become a dad, of course he was scared, but he was happy to be doing this with you. There was no one else he’d rather have as the mother of his children but you.

“This is perfect for the baby,” Nick comments as he holds up a cute floral onesie. You were currently shopping for simple baby necessities with Chris, Matt, and Nick. The gender of the baby was still unknown, but Nick was secretly hoping for a niece. “We’re just here for the necessities, Nick. Stuff like strollers, a hamper, maybe a cute diaper bag… Plus, we don’t even know the gender of the baby yet,” you reply with an eye roll as you waddle through the aisles.

“Okay? It’s still perfect for the baby,” he sasses as he throws the onesie into the shopping cart without another word. You ignore him, waddling into another section in search of the perfect stroller.

Chris and Matt, who had wandered off long ago, enter the same section. They were holding a plethora of baby clothes and all of them were decorated with dinosaurs, tractors, sports references, and anything else boy related. “Baby, look! For the baby!” Chris exclaims excitedly as he shows you all the cute clothes he and Matt just picked out. Chris had a hunch that you were having a boy and Matt was hoping for a nephew.

“This one says ‘Me + Mommy = One Broke Daddy,’ “ Matt laughs as he shows you a onesie he found with a stupid quote on it, he was a sucker for stupid quotes. “Get that out of the cart, my niece will wear none of that!” Nick protests as he swats Chris and Matt away. “Niece?! My NEPHEW is gonna love these,” Matt replies, dumping all the clothes into the cart dramatically.

Meanwhile, Chris is checking up on you, rubbing your stomach and kissing all over your face. “How you feeling, mama?” He started calling you mama about a month ago and the nickname was definitely suiting now. “My feet hurt,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his waist. You were so grateful for him, he truly hasn’t left your side ever since you found out you were pregnant.

“Can you guys stop? She’s already pregnant,” Nick comments with a dramatic eye roll. “Agreed. What are y’all tryna do? Make twins?” Matt joins in on the teasing, loving how uncomfortable you become every time.

“Nah, triplets,” Chris replies jokingly with a chuckle, seemingly unbothered. Your face is red hot in embarrassment.

—

The ultrasound tech lathers your stomach in cold gel as she prepares you for your ultrasound. Today you were going to find out the gender of your baby. Chris insisted on accompanying you of course, he’s eager to find out whether he’s having a son or a daughter. You’re excited to find out, but all you truly want is for your baby to be healthy. Deep down you’re secretly hoping for a girl, though. The idea of dressing your baby up in cute clothes, adorning her hair with bows and painting the nursery pink was exciting.

“You guys ready?” the ultrasound tech asks, as she hovers the transducer of your stomach. Chris squeezes your hand reassuringly. “We’re ready,” you reply, squeezing his hand back.

Chris can’t stop smiling throughout the entire appointment, he loves being able to see his baby on the screen. “There’s Baby’s heartbeat,” the tech says as the room is filled with the rhythmic beat of your baby’s heartbeat. You were happy to find out that your baby had a strong, steady heart beat and was completely healthy. You smile at the news and squeeze Chris’s hand again.

“Okay. Are you ready to find out if Baby is a boy or a girl?” the tech massages the transducer into your stomach as she verifies the babies gender. “Yes, please,” Chris replies eagerly, he can’t wait.

“Looks like you’re having a… boy.” She says it casually, but it’s enough to cause Chris to engulf you in a hug. He’s so happy, even if it was a girl he’d be happy, but this is honestly the best news ever. “I love you so much,” he says, his hands squishing your cheeks together her as he kisses you. “I love you too,” you reply with a chuckle, equally as excited as him.

“And I love you,” he whispers to your stomach as he talks to your son, planting a gentle kiss on it.

—

Once you hit the 9 month mark you couldn’t wait to give birth. Your feet always hurt, your back was worse, and you were so big you needed help to get up. You were tired of carrying around your son’s weight so you were actively trying to induce your labor. Some days you’d bounce on a bouncy ball. Other days you’d just pace around your room. All you knew was that this baby needed to get out of you immediately.

“You hungry, mama?” Chris asks, from beside you on the couch. The two of you were currently watching your favorite movie, it always made you cry, even before your pregnancy. You were always hungry nowadays, so that was a stupid question on his part. You send him a small glare which answers his question perfectly. He laughs slightly before asking what you’re in the mood for. Truthfully, you were in the mood for any and everything, that’s how hungry being pregnant made you.

Chris had compiled a mental list of every weird pregnancy craving you had throughout your pregnancy, so he decided to get the one that seemed to become your favorite; pineapple pizza. He ordered the pizza for you before returning to the movie on screen, listening to your sniffles. You always managed to cry at the exact same part of the movie, and ever since becoming pregnant your emotions only intensified.

The pizza arrived 30 minutes later, the savory aroma instantly causing your mouth to water. You would never eat this if you weren’t pregnant, but the cravings were so insatiable at this point that you’d eat it no matter how weird it looked or sounded. “This pizza is actually what made me pregnant,” you moan, taking a big bite of your first slice. Chris laughs, picking the pineapples off and doing the same. He loves you and your son so much that he’s willing to eat pineapple pizza.

After a while you become tired again and head to your room to sleep, but on your way there you feel a sharp pain shoot through your abdomen. You hold onto the wall for support as your breath quickens, you try and steady yourself. It’s just a small contraction, you’ve been having these all week, you’ll be fine. When you think you’re fine, you let go of the wall and begin walking to your room again, but are met with another, much stronger contraction.

This felt like the real thing, the baby was definitely coming. “Chris!” you call out, another contraction shooting through your body. You’re breathing heavily now, trying to focus on fully exhaling and inhaling. “Chris!” you exclaim louder this time, walking back into the living room slowly. He didn’t hear you the first time, but this time he’s jumping over the couch and running towards you urgently.

“Baby’s coming,” you breath out, yelping out in pain as you hold onto him for support. As if on cue, your water breaks. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck,” he says, looking down at the puddle of water on the floor. Chris guides you to the front door, leading you to the car. Once you’re in the car he runs back into the house for your hospital bag. He manages to grab your phones and the car keys on the way out, haphazardly locking the front door before rushing into the drivers seat.

Chris had no idea how to drive, but he was about to become a dad and there was no time to call Matt for a ride right now. “Chris, hurry!” You whimper, the pain becoming too much too fast. “I’m going baby, I’m going,” he reassures, holding your hand as he begins driving to the hospital.

On the way there he calls his brothers, his parents, and your parents to inform them that you’re in labor. Everyone is so excited and they begin asking too many question, but Chris hangs up on them after telling them which hospital you’d be at. He doesn’t have time for all that right now, he’s trying to juggle your pain, driving a car for the first time, and the anxiety he’s feeling about becoming a dad.

“Almost there, baby. You’re doing so good,” he says lovingly, rubbing your stomach as he keeps his eyes on the road. He’s speeding down the high way, somehow managing to expertly weave his way through traffic. The car is filled with your groans and heavy breathing, you could practically feel the baby crowning.

When you arrive to the hospital the staff immediately rushes you into the delivery room, preparing Chris quickly so he can join you. This was such a crazy, chaotic, beautiful moment for you two. Chris is scared, excited, nervous, anxious, everything.

The doctors are instructing you to push, the sweat gathering on your forehead as you use all your strength to push this baby out. Your hand is squeezing onto Chris’s so hard he’s sure his fingers are broken, but it can’t be anything compared to what you’re feeling. He’s coaching you through the entire thing, encouraging and reassuring you that you’re doing good. Although you want to tell him to shut up, you wouldn’t be able to do any of this on your own, so you focus your attention on your breathing and pushing your baby out.

“One last push.”

You use all the energy left in your body to push one last time, your baby finally being born. Your son’s wails fill the room, causing a wave of relief to wash over you. “You did so good, mama,” Chris whispers, kissing your forehead lovingly. He’s never been more in love with you than in this moment.

The doctor smiles as she places the baby in your arms. A motherly instincts immediately overtakes you and all you want to do is protect your son for the remainder of your life. Nothing matters but him, Chris, and the little family you just became. The baby is calm now, your heartbeat soothing him as soon as he’s in your arms.

“He’s so beautiful,” you whisper, as you and Chris admire him in awe. He was perfect. “He looks like you,” you comment again, taking in every detail of your child. Chris wants to frame this moment of his new little family forever. Despite just having given birth, you look beautiful.

“I love you,” Chris says, kissing you for the first time as actual parents. “I love you,” you reply, looking back down at your son. This was an unplanned, beautiful moment that you wouldn’t trade for the world.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: working on some requests 😋 enjoy honey bunches

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗