#she's been cooking in my head for a long time i just haven't known what to do w her yet

[greatesthitz]

potential addition to the blog: camilla, also known as millie, cami, cam. rock musician, 70's influenced. opened for liddell on her last tour. dated jodie for a bit, separated due to "artistic differences". plays dirty, aiming for the top of the charts (food chain).

[lixzey]

Bf!Luke Castellan x Filipina child of Aphrodite!reader please? I haven't seen any of Filipina readers so I'm begging on my knees 🥺

In which she misses home terribly and decides to cook some of her fave food (preferably sinigang, adobo, or like something else! you can do some research, if you'd like 🫶🏻)

And she makes Luke try it! But he's so whiny bcs he hasn't even heard of the dish's name.

Anywaaay, I loved lovelorn!!! Waiting for the next update like 👀 Your writing is just so 🤌🏻 chef's kiss!!

late night cravings

summary: you miss home terribly, so you decide to cook your favorite ulam

warnings: filipina!reader x luke castellan! they're both 19 (set before tlt), they're like on vacation (luke and reader have an apartment in the east village, courtesy of reader’s dad who’s a filipino actor) away from camp duties for a while, swearing (both filipino and english), luke is a picky ass eater, making out, kinda suggestive content

a/n: i got so excited with this 😭 i'm a filipina and an aphrodite kid, so this was so fun to write! I hope you like it!

“What on earth are you cooking?” Luke asks, leaning against the kitchen door frame of the apartment the two of you own. “I woke up to the smell of that.” 

You immediately whip your head around to see your boyfriend, half naked and disheveled from sleep. “Well, hello to you too, sunshine,” You chuckle, blowing strands of your hair away from your face. 

“It's the middle of the night, princess, and you're cooking something that smells like vomit.” Luke grumbles as he makes his way towards you, still bleary eyed as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

“I just missed home,” You giggle, reaching to grab the tongs to flip over the daing na bangus so it doesn’t burn. “Something wrong, baby?”

“Yeah, it smells like shit.” Luke complains, burying his face in your neck. “It’s stinking up the whole place.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” You chuckle, placing the tongs down on a plate, escaping Luke’s grasp and making your way to the kitchen island, leaning against it. “It’s good, I promise.”

Luke stares at the pan. “I am not eating that thing.” He then turns to you, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “Where’s the mac and cheese?”

“It’s just milkfish, dummy.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s refusal to eat anything other than mac and cheese. “Also, you finished the last box of mac hours ago, remember?”

“Ramen?” Luke asks, hopeful that there’s still some left other than the fish that’s stinking up the whole apartment.

When you shook your head, literal fear crept onto his handsome face. “Anything else?” He asks, his voice cracking like a teenaged boy going through puberty for the first time, making you burst into a fit of giggles.

“There’s nothing left, you’ve finished everything.” You say through fits of laughter at your boyfriend’s food crisis. “Guess you’ll have to deal with the food I’m gonna cook.”

Luke’s eyes comically widen, like one of those cartoon characters you’ve watched when you were a kid. “There’s more?”

“Yeah,” You nod, jerking your head to the refrigerator littered with lots of printed photos of the dates you and Luke went on over the years you’ve been together. “I marinated some pork for adobo.”

“Ado-what?”

“Adobo, it’s a Filipino staple.” You answer with a chuckle. “It’s pork marinated in vinegar, soy sauce, and some garlic. I added some peppercorns too. My lola used to cook it for me when I was a kid.”

Luke makes his way to you, his large hands creeping onto your waist, lifting you up onto the counter. “As much as you love it, princess, I’m not eating any of it.”

“And why not?” You scoff, raising a brow at him.

“I don’t like it, that’s why.” Luke insists, kissing your forehead. “I’m gonna go and get some real food.”

You sigh, annoyed by your boyfriend’s pickiness in food. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s been choosing what he eats like a child. It was always mac and cheese, chicken, pizza, and burgers. It was a struggle to feed him, honestly. Since he won’t eat anything apart from what he’s used to. Luke was lucky that the dryads serve mac almost with every meal—which is mostly for the kids or a side dish. You’ve tried to incorporate vegetables in his meals but somehow he always notices. It was infuriating, to the point that you just wanted to shove a broccoli floret down his throat.

All of a sudden, the smell of burning infiltrates your sense of smell, triggering the fire alarms simultaneously.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You frantically mutter, jumping off the kitchen island and running to the burning bangus on the stove. You grab the pan, forgetting it was on the fire for minutes on end. “Putangina!” You swear, abruptly pulling your hand off the pan’s handle.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, here,” Luke grabs the pan with oven mitts, placing it on the counter.

You sigh as you stare at the burnt fish, hearing the pan hiss against the cold surface.

Luke, being the best boyfriend that he is, pulls you in a tight hug, his body heat engulfing you. “It’s okay, princess. It was an accident.”

“I’ve been craving that,” You mumble against his chest. “Stupid fire.”

“You still have the first one you cooked,” Luke points out. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

You raise your head, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.” you mumble, lower lip out in a pout.

“Don’t be sad over a burnt fish, alright?”

You glare at him, pinching his side. “It was a tasty fish.”

“Geez, princess,” Luke scowls playfully. “A fish is more important than me?”

“Shut up,” You hiss, rolling your eyes. “I paid five bucks for that.”

Luke raises a brow at you. “When did you even get time to get them?”

“You sleep like a lamb, baby,” You chuckle, turning to walk to the refrigerator. “I went to a Filipino store.”

“There’s one in New York?” Luke asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you said there weren’t any?”

“That was years ago, dummy.” You snort, grabbing the refrigerator handle, opening it. “Anyway, look what I got.”

An array of Filipino snacks filled the middle shelf of the fridge. You had gone all out. It wasn’t often that you splurge on food, but when a craving hits, it hits.

There were some Choco Mallows—chocolate covered marshmallows—your favorite treat as a child that your lola always bought for you. A jar of ube macapuno that you hated as a child but learned to love just recently. Some dried mangoes, pastillas, a jar of wafer sticks—stik o—a slice of brazo de mercedes, and many more.

“How the hell are you even gonna finish all of that?”

You shake your head, smirking. “You and I are gonna eat each and every item that I bought.”

Luke scowls, folding his toned arms over his chest. “I don’t want to.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Castellan,” You say, placing your hands on your hips. “You are going to eat whatever I serve you.”

Luke pouts, pairing it off with puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

“Nope.”

“That smells like vomit,” Luke complains as you seared the marinated pork for adobo. “And it looks like it too!”

“Quit it,” You say with a murderous glare. “Don’t yap at it until you’ve tasted it.”

“I think I’m going to puke all my guts out,” Luke gags, making his way to the sink.

“For the love of the gods,” You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his childishness. It was just food, and he’s whining about it like there’s no tomorrow.

You turn your attention away from your picky eater of a boyfriend and back to the pan with the pork searing brown nicely. You then grab the remaining liquid from the marinade—which was not much, which it would have to do—pouring it in, causing the pan to hiss at the difference in temperature. You turn the stove down to medium high heat, before leaving it to simmer.

Much to Luke’s misery.

“You aren’t covering it?” Luke asks incredulously. “It’s smelling the place worse than the fish did!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Luke.” You sigh, grabbing a pouch of dried mangoes before taking a seat on one of the bar stools over the kitchen island. “It’s gonna taste good, I promise.”

“Ugh,” Luke wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gag me.”

“Nah, you’d like it too much.” You giggle, popping a slice of dried mango in your mouth.

Luke scoffs playfully. “Damn right I will, princess.”

“Then stop whining,”

“You love me,” Luke grins as he walks towards you, capturing your lips in his, his hand cupping your face.

You hum as your lips mold with his, your shoulders relaxing as he kisses you.

You pull away from the kiss, pushing him slightly. “You’re distracting me, Castellan,” you sigh dreamily, a soft blush covering your cheeks as your boyfriend looks at you like you’re the only thing in this world.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against your lips as he trails towards your ear. “Is it working?” he whispers, his breath hot on your skin.

“Luke,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest. “Stop, I don’t want to burn the adobo.”

Luke chuckles, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair. “Alright, but later?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “If you promise to taste the adobo and bangus,” You smirk at him, pushing him slightly away from your body as you stand up. “Maybe I’ll let it happen, you know? On this counter.”

“Do I really have to?”

“If you want to bend me over this counter, yes.”

Luke sighs as he reluctantly nods. “Fine, I’ll taste them.”

“That’s a good boy,” You coo, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Go and sit,” you jerk your head towards the bar stool you just stood up from. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Luke obliges, sitting on the stool with his arms crossed over the other. He grins at you, a mischievous look you know oh so well in his beautiful browns. 

Luke was teasing you, the little shit.

You chuckle, shaking your head, before turning to make your way to the stove, swaying your hips as you did—earning a small grunt from Luke behind you.

As you check up on the adobo, you see that almost half of the liquids have evaporated, leaving you with a slightly oily adobo—just the way you liked it. You turned down the heat, grabbing a fork from the silverware drawer to check if the pork was tender.

You poke the fork through the meat effortlessly, making you smile. The perfect adobo.

You quickly grab a plate and load it up with the delicious ulam you’ve grown up with, hoping Luke would appreciate it as much as you did.

“Here it is,” You excitedly announce, serving the adobo with a spoon and fork in front of him with a proud smile etched on your lips. “It’s better with rice, but it’s good on its own too.”

Luke stares at the meat in front of him, as if the adobo was going to attack him if he wasn’t vigilant enough. “Is it supposed to look like that?”

You raise a brow at him. “Like what?”

“Like it’s burnt,”

You sigh, taking a seat beside him. “It’s supposed to look like that, but it isn’t burnt. It’s because of the searing, plus the soy sauce the pork has already absorbed.” You grab the utensils, shoveling a healthy amount of meat and sauce on the spoon using the fork. “Open wide, baby!”

Luke shook his head. “I think I’m okay.”

“Luke,” You growl, raising the adobo filled spoon up to his mouth. “Open your fucking mouth before I shove this spoon down your throat forcibly.”

Luke raises his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, geez,” he chuckles, opening his mouth up. “Be gentle with me, princess.”

You glare at him before pushing the spoon inside of his mouth. “If you spit that out, you’re sleeping on the damn floor.”

Luke chews the contents of his mouth, his eyes widening. “Fuck, this is good!” He grins as he pulls the plate in front of him and immediately takes another spoonful. “Mhmm, that hits the spot!” Luke says through a mouth full of the savory pork dish you cooked. 

“Good, baby?” You giggle, reaching to grab the fork from him to get a bite of your masterpiece. “Don’t finish it all, save some for me!”

“Losers, weepeers, baby,” Luke mumbles through bites. “You sure you didn’t use any love magic on this?”

You recoil, slapping his arm playfully. “I did not use gayuma, Castellan.” 

“Gayuma?”

“It’s love magic, in Filipino,” You answer, taking another bite of your food. “I have got to teach you more Filipino words.” 

“I’m in love with this—what is it called again?”

“Adobo,” You laugh, taking a bite of the said ulam. “Pork adobo.”

“Pork adobo, I love you!” Luke grins, like it’s the first time he’s ever tried food in eons.

You smile lovingly at your boy, looking all so happy and content. You could spend eternities just staring at him. Seeing Luke happy made you feel complete, like you’ve fulfilled a quest greater than anything the gods could dish out.

You could see a future with the man in front of you. You’ve honestly got nothing figured out, but Luke? He was the only thing you’ve got right in your life. You could see him, being the man you’d marry and spend the rest of your life with. You could see him being the father of your children, a little Luke and a little version of you, running around the front yard while you and Luke watch on the front porch with a multitude of toys sprawled around.

You fell in love with a careless god’s careful son, and he is the best thing that’s ever been yours.

“Princess,” You hear Luke call out to you, snapping you out of your daydreams. You look up, meeting his loving gaze, making your cheeks burn. Gods, it’s not fair of him to make me feel this much. 

“Yeah?” You hum, moving your chair closer to him, smiling as you did. “What is it?”

Luke cups your face in his large hands, pulling you in close, barely an inch apart. “I love you.” 

Your heart beats rapidly inside your rib cage, wondering how on earth does he manage to still make you feel like that giddy teenager who fell in love with him years ago. 

You stare in his eyes for what felt like eons. You could feel Luke’s breath hot on your lips, begging you to seal it inside of him with a kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, a small smile curling onto your lips. “I love you too, baby.” you whisper, before closing in the distance between the two of you.

Luke’s hands make their way down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap, making you gasp. He takes advantage of your lips parting, sliding his tongue in, eager to taste you—even though he’s done it more times than he could count.

His lips were soft, like a cloud grazing yours. He tasted sweet, like cotton candy, but with a hint of smoke and citrus playing at your taste buds. You should have been used to it by now, being in a relationship with Luke for almost three years and all. But his touch numbs you. His touch is like being dipped into the cold ocean, pulling you in—drowning you, until he’s bruised into your mind. 

Your hands creep around the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss—if it was even possible given the state of your tongues clashing with one another, fighting to assert dominance. You bite Luke’s lower lip, causing a groan to escape his mouth. You feel this familiar heat pool inside your belly, along with something hard poking your ass.

You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen as you catch your breath. Before you could utter a word, Luke lifts you up on the counter, making you erupt in a fit of giggles. He then presses his forehead against yours, you could hear his slow breaths as your noses bump into each other. 

“So, you lettin’ it happen, huh, princess?”

“You didn’t try the other one,” You feign annoyance, unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Can’t make an exception for me, princess?” Luke smirks, his fingers delicately brushing against your arms.

“I think I can squeeze you in,” You chuckle, pulling away from him with a teasing grin. “You good with that, mister?”

“I’ll take anything as long as it’s with you.” Luke grabs your waist, pulling you back close to him. “Gods, you are so beautiful.” he whispers, his hand cupping your face.

“I love you,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest, on the place where his heart rests. “More than anything.”

“You are the best thing in my life.” Luke sighs before leaning in to kiss you again like his life depended on it, wrapping his arms around you like a vice. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging on his curls as if he was your lifeline.

Luke’s hands fumble with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, momentarily breaking the kiss. He quickly reaches behind, unclasping your bra in one swift movement, tearing the offending fabric off of your breasts.

Luke takes his time to admire your body, as if it was the very first time he’d even seen your breasts out on full display for him, just for him. His cock strained painfully inside of his shorts and boxers, causing a groan to escape his throat. “You see what you do to me, princess?”

You look at him with innocence in your eyes, which at the same time looks sultry and inviting, driving him crazy every time you do. “Who, me?”

“Aren’t you just a little vixen?”

“So, to the room?”

Luke shakes his head, moving towards you, his hands just below your breasts as he smirks. “Here, over the fucking counter.”

tags: @lilmaymayy @ma1dita @sc4rl3ttdafoxx @hottiewifeyyyy

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

“I'm Just going to ask it send me request to write blurbs”

Can you do a cookout blurb with Jude? With y/n? And have y/n mom teach him the electric slide dance with the rest of her family? lol it’s giving “ the best man and welcome home Roscoe Jenkins”

DANCE • JUDE BELLINGHAM

💌 I'm going to imagine he's dancing to the cupid shuffle. That seems like it's more complicated for him.

🏷️ warnings: no warnings

🏷️ author note: look at me! I finally wrote

It was summer break so you know what that meant, Jude and I were spending an evening of vacation at my parents house. Very rarely did we both get to see them. I worked hard on getting my degree and well Jude.. he was a professional footballer. Our careers clouded most of our time and we barely got much to travel and see both of our family until now.

Jude sat in the passenger seat as I drove down the road. He would be driving but he refuse to get his license.

“I'm really excited to see your mom.” He said from the passenger seat. I took my eyes off the road for a second, sneaking a glance at him before turning back to the road.

Jude loved my mother like she was a second mom to him and he was her son. They may have only known each other for 3 years but it seemed like they known each other forever.

When we arrived at my parents house. I parked the car where everyone else's was and got out with Jude. We both walked up to the front door where I knocked. After waiting for less than a minute the door swung open revealing my mom. Within seconds I was in her arms, haven't seen her in so long it was nice to finally get the hug I've been waiting for.

When I pulled back Jude was quick to take my place and my mother's arms. My mom laughed as she hugged the 6 foot man tightly.

When he finally pulled away she spoke.

Come in. Your father is busy on th grill try to cook us a meal. Also your cousins are here.”

me and Jude walked in and greeted everyone as we passed by. A few of my nieces and nephews made the trip to the backyards longer as they tried to talk to Jude but eventually we made it outside.

Outside the atmosphere was pumping. Music played loudly over the back yard, people everywhere and the fumes of delicious food being made clouded the area. I gave jude a kiss on the cheek before splitting with him to greet more of my family.

twenty minutes went by before I was finished talking. I found Jude sitting on a lawn chair a beer nestled in his hand as he talked to my mom who was sitting beside him. I plopped down on the other side and stayed quiet. Jude knew I was there seeing how his hands rested on my thigh a few seconds as I got comfortable.

A few more minutes went by, my mom and Jude talking about football. That was before the music changed. Good lord it was my mom's favorite song.

I groaned knowing what was coming next.

My mom popped right up happy as can be. Her first target was me of course. I instantly hesitated, I was in no shape or form interested in dancing today.

“Come on y/n, you know you want to.”

I shook my head staying glued to my seat. She wasn't going to stop which means I have to get out of this some way some how so I used my closest target. Jude!

“Why don't Jude dance with you?”

Jude's eyes grew wide as soon as I said that. He looked betrayed and I couldn't blame him. I smiled at him shyly hoping he'll do it and take me out of my misery.

Luckily for me he did.

“Sure.” He stood up. I sighed in relief.

“but I'm not good at dancing. I'm kind of white.” he joked.

My mom laughed ignoring his comments, dragging him into an open space where she can teach him correctly.

I was attentive as I watched them. Every now and then I would giggle to Jude messing up the easiest move humanly possible.

My mom stayed patient as she taught him and eventually… one hour later he finally got the dance correctly.

“Did you see all that?” He asked me as he walked back over to me.

I smiled as I nodded. “Yeah and I kinda filmed it so expect it to be on the internet tomorrow.”

Jude rolled his eyes and sat back down beside me.

“You know you're going to have to repay me right?”

I nod once again. Leaning closer to him I whispered in his ear. “I know and when we leave here later I plan to give you what you want.”

[darlingshane]

Afternoon Delight

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: You and Michael are just two good friends with a lot of chemistry that have sex on occasion, and today is one of those days he shows up at your apartment to benefit from that mutual agreement.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Friends with Benefits, Fluff, Crack, Pet Names.

Word Count: 1,4k

— You can read below or at AO3.

“Your boyfriend is here!” your roommate announces, knocking on the bathroom door as you step out of the shower.

“Boyfriend?” with a scoff, you wrap a towel around your soaked body before opening the door to see who she's referring to.

Poking your head out the hallway, you find Michael standing in the middle of the living room.

It strikes you as odd to see him this early and that your roommate called him your boyfriend, cause you and Michael are not currently dating, or ever will be, — but who knows, stranger things have happened. Right now, your relationship boils down simply to two good friends that have sex on occasion, with no bullshit or feelings in the mix. By keeping this uncomplicated, you avoid the upheaval of pain and regret you've felt in the past with other guys you've dated. This situation has been a good solution to ditch all those problems.

However, Michael's been coming and going so often that some people might view that as dating. It’s true, you two are really cute together, and have explosive chemistry that could blow up the roof. You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t thought about asking for more a couple of times, but for now this is all you need.

You and your roommate are not exactly best friends, or have known each other for long. So, you’ve never considered it important to explain the nature of the mutually beneficial relationship you have with Michael, and you’re not going to start today.

“Hi, welcome back!” his smile beams from across the room.

“Hey, what are you doing here so early?” you beckon him, and he follows you into your room.

“I thought you said to come pick you up at 3.”

“I didn't. I'm pretty sure I said 8. When have we ever hung out at 3? Nobody ever ha–” you’re cut off when Michael fishes his phone out of his pocket and shows your message on screen up to you to realize that you indeed typed 3 instead of 8. “Oh… I was jet-lagged when I wrote that. My bad, but I'm glad you're here anyway.”

“Yeah? You've missed me?” He tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“I haven't missed you missed you. But I've missed this face,” you hold his chin tightly in your fingers, leaning in to smooch his cheek.

Unable to fight a smile, his lips curve up beautifully as you let go of his face.

“How was your trip, sweetheart?” Michael takes a seat at the foot of your messy bed while you move to search through your opened, unpacked suitcase.

“Long. I hate flying. Here, I got this for you,” you toss a light-weighted, wrapped present at him.

“A gift for me?” He catches it in the air, tears the paper to find a novelty apron that has printed – kiss the cook – on the fabric with an arrow pointing down. “This is probably the worst gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“You’re welcome,” you say with a mocking shrug.

“C’mere, baby, I have a gift for you too.”

“You do? I didn’t see you bringing anything.”

“It’s right here,” his pointer finger taps on his lips twice, “you have to come get it, girl.”

Grinning, you sit on his lap sideways. As one of his arms curls around your waist to keep you secured, his opposite hand frames your jaw, guiding your face to capture your mouth. He offers three small kisses, and then he nibbles at your lower lip, sucks it lightly into his mouth and releases it, just how you always like it.

“That’s all you got?” you purr against the corner of his mouth.

“You’re always so greedy, sweetheart. You think you deserve more in exchange for that crappy apron?”

“Yeah, I fucking do. It's the thought that counts.”

“That so?” Scoffing, he presses a kiss on your neck before picking you up and settling you down on the mattress without breaking a sweat. Locking eyes with you, he hovers over your body as one of his hands untucks the corner of the towel that was keeping it in place over your breasts, and spreads the fabric to the side to uncover your body.

With a low hum, he presses another wet kiss on your lips before having his tongue trailing down your torso. He leaves a wet trail from your neck, across the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, around your navel. The tip of his tongue viciously stirs your arousal before reaching the crux between your legs.

“Hi, sweet thing, I’ve missed you so much,” he plants a few kisses all over your vulva when he reaches that spot.

“Are you talking to me or my pussy?” you prop yourself on your elbows as he stares up at you.

“Hm, both. But mostly your pussy. Is that okay?”

“Sure. She’s missed you too. Have at it,” you laugh softly and place your head back down as he buries his face between your thighs.

His eager tongue traces every fold and inch of your cunt, collecting your juices at his passing. You ball the sheets in your fists as he slowly, but surely, makes your whole body buzz with excitement in a few licks. Your nipples harden and your head spins as the plane of his tongue flattens against your folds.

“Hmm,” you pull your knees further apart, close your eyes, and slide your fingers in his hair. “Be gentle. Walls are paper thin, baby.”

“Let her hear you,” he laughs against your pussy before letting the tip of his tongue lap around your clit.

His arms curl around your thighs, as one of his hands massages your mound, the other marks its fingers at the curve of your hip.

The pressure of his tongue is absolutely delicious. It keeps teasing around your clit for a long moment before having his lips wrap around that sweet spot. Up until that point, it’s easy to keep your moans buried in your throat. When he starts sucking and licking and grunting oh so fiercely around your sensitive skin, devouring you like a wild animal that has been fasting for days, he forces those drawn groans past your lips.

Your taste, the wanton sounds that he earns out of you, and the way your body writhes is the cause for his cock to bulge out his jeans. It aches for a good fuck, and he can only press himself against the mattress to gain some friction. His tongue has great determination to make you come before shoving his dick inside you. It’s all Michael thinks about, just burying himself in your slicked walls and filling you with his cum. It fuels his unwavering passion.

Out of the blue, you get momentarily distracted when music starts blasting through the walls, and you bring your hands to cover your heated face, realizing your roommate is definitely hearing you. As embarrassing as it is, you use that as an opportunity to just let go and focus on how good it feels to have him between your legs.

After a moment, you place your hands back down, knotting your fingers back in his hair and pulling as hard as you can, unable to control yourself as he brings you closer and closer to the brink.

It doesn’t take him long to make you meet that sweet undoing that elevates you to a higher plane. He’s always had that ability. But today is special because one – you haven’t seen the other for two weeks; the longest you've gone without benefiting from the other. And two – the unexpected surprise of him showing up earlier gives you that extra edge of excitement that has your legs trembling with practice eased in this afternoon delight.

When all your muscles seize up, and you can’t stop squirming and cursing his name, he takes it up a notch until you come undone. As your mind swirls in that bubble of pure bliss, he stops altogether, but keeps his mouth close to press soft kisses against your sensitive skin while your breathing catches.

You let go of his hair and let your arms fall to the sides, watching a blurry vision of Michael crawling over your limp, tired body.

“How was that, sweetheart?”

“That was beautiful. You’re beautiful. Everything your tongue does is beautiful,” you reiterate with a dopey smile, cause you can’t come up with a different word at this moment.

Staring adorably at you, he caresses your sweaty face as you regain enough strength to lift your hand and swipe his lips with your thumb to clean your juices lingering all over his mouth. “You think you got more for me, baby?”

“For you? Always.”

[creampuffqueen]

I wanna hear more avatar headcanons! From the novels or just the avatars themselves! I loved reading your kavik and yangchen hcs 🥹🫶🏻

ahhh thank you!! i'm glad you like my random thoughts lol 🫶

here are a few more random thoughts i've been having that i just haven't quite made into posts yet (mostly yangvik because i love them but some other avatars as well):

yangchen is actually a terrible cook 💀 she's basically always had people taking care of her so she never really needed to learn! she can make a good cup of tea and that's about it. she regularly burns rice. she's also just generally bad at remembering to feed herself. kavik, who is a decent cook, is largely the only reason she remembers to eat

as for the other known avatars: kyoshi is by FAR the best cook. she's genuinely good at it. aang is a very close second. roku, kuruk, and wan are all average at it. korra has been banned from every kitchen in republic city

yangchen and kavik both strike me as people who really enjoy physical touch. they both really enjoy cuddling with each other, even before their relationship turns more romantic. acts of service is also a major love language for them

i also feel very strongly that they never used typical labels for their relationship. they usually referred to each other as their 'partner', occasionally 'lover', but most often just continued to use 'companion'. these vague labels frustrate scholars to no end, and today in the atla universe nobody can agree on the nature of their relationship. which is exactly how they wanted it lol, they were extremely private about their relationship

yangchen does have the iconic crooked smile that all the avatars share, but it only comes out when she's well and truly happy about something

her laugh is the same way. she has a very convincing fake laugh, as her real laugh is kind of 'ugly'. it's some kind of snorting, wheezing sound that kind of sounds like she's dying but is also absolutely adorable. yangchen hates it. kavik adores it, and will make an absolute fool of himself trying to hear it

yangchen is a massive, merciless flirt and takes great pleasure in seeing just how red she can make kavik's face turn. but on the rare occasion kavik gets enough confidence to flirt back, she turns into a total mess

pik and pak's favorite place to sleep is right on top of kavik's face

because of how hard she works herself, yangchen often falls asleep in the strangest places. if she's actually tired, she can fall asleep literally anywhere. it's simultaneously a superpower and a massive annoyance

a somewhat sad/bittersweet headcanon i have is that yangchen dies first. i've seen a lot of people saying that she lives to 150 but i can't find a source for that anywhere so i'm choosing to ignore it. yangchen has already watched too many loved ones die, she doesn't need to see kavik die before her as well. they both live very long lives, but kavik outlives her by a few years. after yangchen's death, he returns home to the northern water tribe

at one point, only a few months before his death, he is out for a walk when a little toddler wanders up to him all alone. he chats with him for a few minutes until the boy's parents find them and thank him for watching over their son. 'kuruk, what have we told you about wandering off like that?' the mother asks. the toddler waves goodbye, and kavik walks home feeling oddly contented. he never meets the boy again, and he dies well before kuruk is revealed as the avatar, but he feels a sense of peace from the interaction, knowing deep down that yangchen has made it safely back into the material world

when kavik dies, he wills his bone necklace to kuruk's family. they don't understand why until kuruk's sixteenth birthday. (SERIOUSLY THEIR NECKLACES LOOK ALMOST IDENTICAL ITS WILD)

that's all the thoughts i can scrape up off the top of my head, but i'm just generally thinking about avatar characters All The Time lmao. thank you for asking!!!

[adore-laur]

SKIN

— a blurb from the dadrry universe 🤍

——

Harry's skin must be woven with threads of magic. There has to be an otherworldly magnetism entwined in his veins, bestowing captivating warmth on anyone who touches him. Or perhaps there's an underlying spell coursing through his bloodstream, effortlessly soothing deep-rooted aches and vociferating cries. 

It's been said before, but it bears repeating: Harry is a natural when it comes to being a lover. He has been by your side through every trial and tribulation life has cruelly thrown at you. He has willingly taken your pain during grief-stricken times and selflessly shared the burden. You've navigated the rollercoaster years of dating, marriage, and parenthood with him, all the while watching him adapt to each role with unwavering patience and grace. 

Witnessing him be a dad makes you firmly believe it's what he was made to do. It was written in the stars.

When you wake from a deep slumber—a long and uninterrupted one at that—the house smells like blueberries and homemade bread. Well, if four hours of sleep count as uninterrupted. You'll be the first to admit that you haven't missed the lack of sleep involved in caring for a newborn. 

You slowly make your way to the kitchen, surprised by how quiet it is except for the sizzling sounds of breakfast being cooked. Your tired eyes regard Harry swaying by the stovetop, a spatula in his grasp, and his one-week-old baby girl cradled in his opposite arm. She's wide awake, her swaddled body cuddled perfectly in the crook of his elbow as she mesmerizingly stares at her dad skillfully take a loaf of bread out of the oven. He has on his favorite fleece robe with the sleeves rolled up, and his hair— that's getting quite long—is flatly pushed back due to him restlessly tossing and turning all night. 

It's baffling how whenever Harry holds his daughter, she's completely content as long as her skin touches his. You don't quite understand it. You're well aware that skin-to-skin contact is essential, but it's wondrous how much she loves it with him already. 

You stand still and watch him for a few more moments, thinking about how, nine months ago, you observed him from the same spot as he made pancakes with his eldest daughter. Back when the baby he's holding now was just a tiny bump he would fawn over, growing rounder each month and getting plenty of kisses each day. 

Eventually, you refocus on the present and shuffle over to where your sleep-deprived husband is yawning and shutting the oven door with his hip. The both of you got a dreadfully short amount of sleep last night, but you think it isn't so bad when mornings look like they do with him. 

"Hello," you say, making your presence known before appearing next to him.

Harry loosens a golden-brown blueberry crepe with the spatula and sets it on one of three plates. "Morning, sweetheart." 

"When did she wake up?"

"'Bout an hour ago," he replies, his voice hoarse. "Just little whimpers, so I took her to the backyard for fresh air. She told me she wanted to make breakfast with me." 

You amusedly tilt your head to the side. "Oh, she told you that? I didn't know you could translate her baby sounds." 

"I can, actually. She also told me she wanted milk." He looks over at you and raises his eyebrows. "Pronto, preferably." 

"Here, give me her. She's definitely hungry." You take her from him and kiss her soft, munchable cheeks. "Thank you for making food, by the way." 

"That's my job," he says melodically as you walk over to the couch. You sit and slide the strap of your silk pajama top down, then remove the white swaddle from the baby's body. She instantly latches onto your nipple, causing you to wince as a dull ache initiates. 

As you feed her and zone out, you hear Harry plate the food and open the fridge several times before you sense him coming up behind you. He leans his torso over the back of the couch and rests his chin on your head. Breastfeeding has never been uncomfortable around him since you know he's appreciative of what a woman's body can supply and how draining it is to be the supplier. Often, like right now, he will silently observe his daughter fall into a state of tranquility as she suckles. It's beautiful to nurture another human using your body, and even though it's terribly time-consuming, the special bond formed during it is always worth it. 

"I'm going to get dressed," Harry says after a while, squeezing your arm.

You turn your head and pucker your lips for the first kiss of the day. He grants you several soft pecks that taste like blueberries, each with a satisfied hum, before leaving a long, dramatic kiss on his daughter's head.

A few minutes later, he comes back just as you finish breastfeeding. He's wearing a patterned jacquard-knit sweater and loose denim jeans with ripped holes near his knees. He stands before you and takes his baby girl from your arms, kissing and blowing raspberries on her full belly until she's screeching happily. 

"Who's ready for tummy time, hmm? Is it you?" She coos with a toothless smile, and Harry pretends to eat her cheeks. "I think it's you." 

He gently sets her on the blanket on the living room floor, then lies on his stomach next to her. You grab your phone from the coffee table and snap a quick picture of the sweet memory. 

After five minutes of encouragement and tracing every feature of her face, Harry picks her up and burps her. Meanwhile, you wander into the kitchen, grab the plates, and then slide the patio door open with your shoulder. You head out to the backyard, with Harry following closely behind. You're not too worried about your other daughter since she'll definitely be cranky if you wake her up this early. 

As you set the plates down and sit in the wicker lounge chair, Harry passes the baby over and settles beside you, chewing and swallowing a bite of bread. He says, "I was thinking of going to the beach later and swimming with the girls. The water is pretty calm today." 

You nod and pick at your crêpe. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll probably take a nap or something." 

"You don't want to come with us?" he asks, scrunching his eyebrows. It's gorgeous out." 

"I don't really feel like swimming. I'm not feeling my best." 

He leans closer to you and places his palm on your forehead. "What do you mean, love? You feelin' okay?" 

"I'm just tired," you lie partially. "Don't worry about me." 

"Hey, look at me." He takes your hand in his. "I'm going to worry about you. You just gave birth a week ago. Gotta tell me how you're feeling mentally and physically. Otherwise, I don't know how to help you." 

"I know, but I swear I'm—" A fussy cry cuts you off, and you sigh as you start rocking the baby. Harry soothingly massages the back of your neck, leaving a comforting kiss behind your ear. 

"We'll talk about it later, okay?" he murmurs. 

You just weakly smile and hope he'll forget about it. 

——

The sun has just begun to set, and the evening sky is a bright, beautiful orange that makes the ocean glimmer. All of you are on the beach to spend time together before an early bedtime. Harry had made dinner and is now shaking out a blanket so the both of you can sit on the sand. Your eldest daughter is distracted with her beach toys, talking to herself as she toddles along the shoreline in her swimsuit and floaties.

There's no time for peaceful watching, however, because once you plop down on the blanket with the baby snuggled to your chest, Harry sits right by you and clasps his hands over his bent knee like he's about to give a lecture. He jerks his chin and says, "You know what I'm going to say." 

It's impossible not to roll your eyes. "Do I have to?" you mutter with a sheepish grin. 

"Yes. You're legally required to talk to your husband and baby daddy." 

You just groan and prepare yourself to vent about all the postpartum feelings that have been swirling in your pessimistic brain over the past seven days.

"I'm scared of losing myself," you say, exhaling heavily. "I remember the first time I became a mom and how I didn't even recognize myself some days. It took so much energy out of me, you know? With breastfeeding, being up all night, and trying to get my body back to normal, I guess I just don't want to fall into that dark mindset again." 

Harry nods understandingly. "Do you recognize yourself right now?" 

"A lot more than last time," you reply quietly. "I mean, we're both more experienced with how to handle a newborn. That definitely helps." 

He swallows, and his serious expression reveals that he sees right through you. "Can I know the real reason why you didn't want to go swimming earlier?" he asks with a gentleness that could break you if you dwell on it for long enough. 

You sometimes wonder if your skin is made of glass or if he knows you well enough to notice all the cracks. 

"If I talk about it, I'll start crying." 

He tuts and nudges your foot with his. "And what's wrong with crying?" 

Shrugging, you defeatedly mumble, "It makes me feel like a little kid." 

"You're my wife, not some stranger to me," he stresses with a soft laugh. "I hate that you think crying in front of me will put me off. Please be vulnerable with me. I don't want you to keep your feelings bottled up." 

Your lips wobble, and a teardrop escapes as you look downward. "I don't feel good when I look at my body. I don't think I could put on a swimsuit and have you see me." Harry scoots closer and wipes your tears away, a sympathetic frown on his lips. "And I spent so long trying to accept it last time I gave birth," you add, "and now having to bounce back again seems exhausting." 

"I don't expect you to bounce back," Harry says gently. "I don't expect anything of you that involves changing your body. It's your body. Do whatever you need to make you feel good, and do it at your own pace, all right?" 

Your heart lovingly falters at his statement. "Once we can finally have sex in five weeks, it's going to be terrible. I'll probably cry." 

He laughs, and you let one out too. "Is that really what you're worried about?" 

"No." He gives you an unamused look with a hint of a smirk. "Okay, maybe. I just don't want you to look at me. I could blindfold you or something." 

"Can you look at me right now for a second?" Harry asks earnestly. You adjust the baby in your arms and meet his eyes, which sparkle in the sunlight. I look at you and see a goddess," he says, holding your free hand. "A mother to two beautiful girls who make me smile every single day. You're my safety blanket. The body you think I don't want to see is the one that grew life. That is so precious to me." 

He begins tracing his fingertips across the light striations on your thigh as he continues, "The stretch marks on your skin are there because you grew two humans, which to me is the most powerful goddamn thing I could ever watch you do. And you've done it so effortlessly that I can't help but fall in love with you more and more each day." 

In that moment, you wonder why you were ever doubtful in the first place and how the man sitting next to you can always easily drag you out of any momentary insecurity. 

Harry suddenly stands and carefully pulls you up with him. He then kneels on the blanket and spreads his arms out. "Look at you," he says over the crashing waves. "You're literally glowing in front of me, holding our baby girl that you brought into this world all by yourself, and making my heart pound just as hard as the first day I met you." 

"Stop, Harry," you tell him, heat expanding across your face. 

"No, because look at you!" He exhales sharply and lowers his arms. "I worship you. Everything you do or say, every smile and laugh, every time you look at me... I'm hooked for eternity."

You kneel in front of him with tears threatening to spill over. He cradles your cheeks and kisses you with an intensity similar to the evening waves pelting the shore. Is there a way to thank the ocean for bringing him to you? 

As the sun says its routine farewell, you bask in Harry's glow that cascades from the solicitous words he speaks and the tender touches he gives. Skin that's unquestionably loved by him, and skin that you will love at your own pace. 

——

[shimmershy]

There's Only One Thing Left to Say, This Time (Undertale Fanfic)

New fanfic time! When I started writing this, I got the idea mostly because 1. I've been having trouble "moving on" from things in my own life recently and wanted to try processing it through fic and 2. it was the end of the school year for me and I had been saying a lot of goodbyes, so it felt thematically relevant. I wrote almost the entire thing impulsively at like three am a couple weeks ago and really impressed myself lol.

Chara Week Day 7: Free (I know it's over, but shhhh it still counts)

Summary:

You're having trouble saying goodbye, but the thing is that you don't have to! If you keep Resetting just before it's all over, you'll never have to be by yourself again. Right? You haven't known them long, and maybe they weren't super nice at the start, but they were there for you every step of the way. They listened to you and helped you when no one else would. You can't just let them disappear… You can't. ...But you can't keep doing this forever, Frisk. You have to let me go.

Characters: Chara and Frisk

Word count: 4,763 words

(Ao3 link in reblog!)

There's only one thing left to say this time,

I hope you're fine, goodbye.

– “Goodbye” by The Altogether

It isn’t until the third True Reset that I realize what this is all about, and when I do, I feel silly for not realizing it before.

I can still feel the way the bitterness worked its way under my skin the first time you brought everyone back. Which, is actually quite impressive on your part! Seeing as I don’t have skin anymore. I suppose it worked its way under your skin, then, because you wouldn’t stop apologizing to me in your head as you made your way through the Ruins. I should have been the one apologizing to you, Frisk. It’s no business of mine what you do with your own life, and you have no business feeling my emotions for me. This connection we have can be troubling, at times.

Still, it felt like a betrayal, and you offered me no explanation, so I could not understand.

I understood a little better when you decided to stay with Toriel for a while. Despite my obvious frustration and impatience, you sat and listened to her snail facts. You let her show you that bug-hunting spot she mentioned, and you spent time helping her run errands and letting her teach you how to cook. You even got to the point where she started giving you classes, as if you planned on staying. I assumed it was sentimentality, then. Perhaps there was something about the Underground that you didn’t want to leave behind. Maybe you weren’t ready to go back to living on the surface just yet. It’s not as if I could blame you for that one.

What I didn’t notice (and what I am noticing now), was how much attention you were giving me. And well, it’s not that I didn’t notice. I was just too busy being annoyed about it, and rightfully so. Can’t the narrator of your life narrate in peace? I do not care for superfluous conversation. And that’s not even the worst of it. Frisk, you should not be so casual about sharing control of your body, That’s like, the one thing you should never have to share. Sure, it happened one time, but I only stepped in because you were so afraid, and I didn’t even realize it was happening until it was me that the spears were getting shot at. That’s different. I will not take control of your body just to eat a slice of pie. Your pity for me is insulting.

What’s troubling is that it doesn't seem to be going away.

You take your first shivering step into Snowdin (for the fourth time, I can’t help but note) without so much as a glance behind you. This time, you left Toriel with no hesitation, and I know it’s because you know I didn’t want to stay. You’re not even trying to hide it. This is when I finally decide it’s time to confront you.

What are you doing? I ask.

“I’m…walking?” you respond, confused, through thoughts. Your boots crunch satisfyingly through the snow to prove your point. Crunch, crunch, crunch. I huff in frustration.

Frisk. Why do you keep Resetting?

This stops you (and your crunchy boots) in your tracks, and suddenly I can feel anxiety radiating off of you. You weren’t expecting me to ask you this directly.

When you don’t respond, I continue, a little bit of venom coating my words despite my best efforts. For the third time now, you have made it to the end, broken the barrier, only to start all over again. Do you not feel even the slightest bit of remorse?

“Of course I feel bad!” you’re quick to say, as if you’re surprised I would assume otherwise. “But…we’ll still get there again in the end; it’s not that big a deal.”

That’s a horrible excuse.

“Why’re you so angry about it?” Your voice comes out sharp in the frigid air.

Why are you so stubborn?

“What’re you even talking about?!”

You’re trying to delay the inevitable.

You’re about to debate me on that, too, in a defensive way rather than a genuinely angry way. But you stop, because you suddenly understand that I understand, and the anxiety returns. You continue walking after a brief hesitation.

Goodbyes are never easy, I say, as gently as I can. (It ends up sounding forced anyway.)

You ignore me, and I allow you to.

~~~

What are you going to do once you get back to the surface? Once you decide to stay?

You’ve made it to Waterfall at this point, having made it through Snowdin without much event. You’re getting a little tired of doing the same thing every time; I can tell, but you would never admit to it.

You kick a stone on the ground, watching as it disappears into the dark grass. “I dunno.” (“I dunno-”) (“-dunno-”)

Your own voice travels around you in echoes and fragments. You really shouldn’t talk out loud like this in the middle of all these echo flowers. Number one, it’s annoying, and that should be reason enough, but number two, you shouldn’t make a habit of talking out loud to the voice in your head at all. People are going to think you’re weird. And I mean, you’re already pretty weird, but do you really want the reputation of “the weird kid who talks to themself” stuck to you even after I’m gone?

I didn’t even realize you were listening to all that, but you flinch at that last part, not only mentally but physically too, and I try to ignore the fact that you’re proving my point.

I hum thoughtfully. You “don’t know”? That’s certainly an issue then, isn’t it?

You start to fidget with the hem of your sweater and return to talking to me through thoughts, much to my relief. “I just haven’t thought much about it.”

This is a lie. But I don’t point that out to you.

You’re in a part of Waterfall that you’ve never seen before. Admittedly, it’s not much different to the parts you have seen before, but the fact that it’s new at all is good enough for you. You’re trying to explore the area as much as you can this time around, because you’ve realized just how expansive Waterfall really is and the curiosity you came here with the first time still hasn’t left you. You’ve barely seen a fraction of the place, and you definitely won’t manage to see all of it, but you’re certainly going to try.

I might take this time to remind you that no matter how many times you’ve befriended her in the past, Undyne is still hunting you down in this timeline. So maybe taking the time to look at every blade of grass there is to look at isn’t the best idea. But whatever.

There are quite a few echo flowers growing in this area, as I mentioned before. It seems more secluded than the rest of the caverns that make up Waterfall, if that’s even possible. You can see the main path you usually walk from where you’re standing, separated from you by a large expanse of luminescent cyan water, and an overwhelming sense of calm washes over you. It’s like this is a little cove carved out just for you, safe from everything that may hurt you. It’s hard for me not to feel the same sense of calm. Whether it’s just the spilling over of your emotions or completely and entirely mine is hard to tell, but it doesn’t really matter.

Why don’t we sit here for a minute? I ask. You let out a breath and descend to the ground, hugging your knees and resting your head against the rough cavern walls without hesitation, as if you were waiting for me to say just that.

It’s nice to just be here, for me, with you, like this. Together. Your hands are intertwined in the way that I know means you’re trying to hold my hand, in whatever way you can. We look out at the stillness of the water, listening to the sound of rushing waterfalls in the distance. We both must be thinking about the same thing, now, because although I don’t agree with the Resets, I understand why you don’t want to leave, to some extent. Have you convinced me that you’re right? Have I felt this way the entire time and simply didn’t realize until now? I can’t say for certain. But I’m becoming increasingly aware of my own fear of reaching the end.

“Chara?” you say, voice cracking a little. The sound of my name spoken aloud and echoed around by the echo flowers startles me. “It’s just that…I really, really don’t wanna be by myself again.”

I feel tears pricking at your eyes. The honesty in your voice stings.

You won’t be by yourself, I try halfheartedly. Everyone will be up there with you.

You reposition to rest your head on your knees. “You know what I mean,” you whisper, and after a moment you say. “You’re not gonna be there.”

…Right. Of course.

That is the funny thing about good things, see. About journeys and stories. And lives. They end. Sometimes (always) too soon.

I do not know what I was expecting the first time you made it to the surface. What, was I just going to live inside your head forever? Would you want that? Would I? The strangest thing happened when you stepped over that threshold where the barrier once stood, when everyone else followed you out. I felt you pull away from me, and then I watched the back of your head as you walked out into the sun. It was a bit disorienting. I wasn’t seeing through your eyes anymore, I was just…there. Watching. Barely even there, because I couldn't feel you there justifying my existence anymore.

I don’t think there was a doubt in either of our minds about what that meant. As everyone else chatted in awe of how beautiful the sun was, you looked back at me (although I don’t think you really saw me, just the empty opening of the cave). There was confusion, or sadness, or panic on your face. I’ve never had to read your face from the outside before, what a funny thing to realize. Whatever emotion it was, it was enough to make you Reset. And then again, and again. It really was for my sake, then.

This makes me feel a strange mixture of things, but the feeling of guilt sticks out like a sore thumb. Frisk, I don’t want you to feel any sort of…obligation? Or anything? To keep me alive. I’ve been wanting to be dead for a long time.

It’s a lame attempt at humor to lighten the mood, but as soon as I think it, I realize how unfunny it sounds. It kind of stops being a joke when it’s true.

Still, you reply, “It’s not like that. You know that.”

You are making some awfully bold assumptions here, though they’re not entirely false. I’m inclined to ask, what is it like then? Would moving on with your life not be the best option here? Everything is going to work out for you. And, hey, you won’t even have to put up with an annoying ghost in your head anymore.

“What if I like the annoying ghost in my head?”

Well, then you’re weird. But we’ve already established that.

That gets a smile out of you. “See? You always make me feel better,” you think, and I want to roll my eyes at that. I want to remind you of all the times I made you feel worse rather than better, but I stay quiet for now.

“…Before I came here,” you start, eyes trained on the ground as you fidget with the grass there, “I was alone a lot. It wasn’t so bad, but…it wasn’t so good either.” You shrug one of your shoulders. “I dunno. I didn’t think about it much. I had to take care of myself, and there was never anyone there…to say it’d be okay, or to tell me dumb jokes, or just be there…y’know?”

Yeah. I do know.

…

“I kinda panicked when I left the Underground and you weren’t there. You were just…gone, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even really mean to Reset, I just didn’t think, and I-“

You sigh.

“I just really care about you. You’re like my best friend, Chara- ‘N that’s what it’s like. It’s like saying goodbye to your best friend.”

Oh.

Ha ha. Yes, I really do know that, don’t I?

“Wait, augh. I-I probably shouldn’t’ve said it like that, I’m sorry-“

No, Frisk, there is no need to apologize. It is fine. It’s fine.

Your fingernails claw into the grass and the dirt beneath.

I know. I know what you mean. I really do.

I try not to think of my brother. I fail.

I did not think you would care so much. It’s- (stupid), I want to say, but you are not stupid. (See, caring about me always gets people hurt), I want to say, but that’s not your fault. (What did you expect?), I want to say. (I don’t believe you), I want to say. (I don’t understand you), I want to say. I can’t- I can’t say any of that. I can’t say anything to you, right now.

You- you nod, a little concerned, but you give me space. You bring your hands together again and gaze out at the water again for a minute. Then, finally, you decide to continue onwards. You have a fish monster to face.

~~~

Being here doesn’t get easier, no matter how prepared I am after each Reset. The grey, achromatic walls and floors. The feeling of despair in the air. The stillness. It directly contrasts my memories of warmth and color and love in this home. It reminds me too much of dust.

I stay quiet as you kneel in front of the save star. It glows in a steady, consistent way, light flowing out from the center and disintegrating at the edges. A comforting feeling washes over you, as it always does, and you step into the house.

It’s as lonely as ever. You should just get this over with. The monsters that are always here to greet you at this phase of your journey stop you on your way to the kitchen.

“A long time ago, a human fell into the Ruins,” one of the Froggits begins. You stand there with your hands clasped together and listen politely, as you always do. I put up a mental barrier between myself and the world and try not to listen, as I always do.

The key on the kitchen countertop glints in the other room. You wait for the Froggits to finish speaking before grabbing it and returning to the hallway. You make your way to the far end of the hall to grab the second key, too, before entering my old room.

You open the gift boxes and take the locket and dagger out without a word. I relish the familiar weight around your neck as you reach back to fasten the locket’s clasp. It helps me find the words I want to say.

Frisk. I don’t want to keep doing this.

You’re surprised to hear me speak, but you listen.

What we talked about earlier… It’s not that I don’t want to stay. I think…you’ve helped me a lot too. And I’m really glad I met you. I’m just tired of feeling stuck in the past. A part of me…wants that, but. It hurts, being here but not being able to do anything. To fix anything.

Plus, I mean. You!! The barrier’s broken thanks to you! You and…Asriel, of course. At least, it will be. Again. It’s… I’m glad it worked out in the end. Even if it took a really long time.

I wish things could be different. I wish I could stay, at least a little longer, but I don’t want to take this away from them. Or from you. I made my choice a long time ago, and this is already more than I deserve.

…

Are you…crying?

You’re holding your arms around yourself, as well. What is this???

“A hug,” you say through thoughts, sniffling.

Oh.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like that.”

It’s not your fault.

“I shouldn’t’ve kept Resetting, though. I knew it upset you the first time…”

I understand why you did it now, though. It’s okay, really.

“Okay…”

You rub your eyes with your sleeve and stand up, giving yourself a self-assured nod.

“Don’t worry. This will be the last time.”

~~~

When it’s time to fight Asriel, we’re both filled with determination. The nothingness surrounding us erupts in color and light, illuminated by kaleidoscopic starbeams and glimmering stardust. Attacks rain down on you from above, and you weave your body between them masterfully. You can’t evade them all, but I’m there cheering you on. A blast from Shocker Breaker shatters your soul; I reach out to press the pieces back together. But it refused!

Asriel floats above you, smirking with confidence in his power. You aren’t afraid of him anymore. You know all too well what he’s capable of, but you know him better now than you did when you first encountered him, just a human and a flower with a million untold secrets between them. He’d laid all his puzzle pieces out before you, and you can’t help but see the whole painful picture before you now. He’s stuck in a cycle, much like you but nothing like you at all. You’re going to help him bring it to an end. (Once and for all.)

The attacks keep coming, but you persist. You reach out to your friends within Asriel’s soul and remind them of who they are. Undyne, whom you admire for her enthusiasm and sense of justice. Alphys, whose intelligence and desire to do better inspire you. Papyrus, whom you enjoy hanging out with for his optimism and dedication. Sans, who tells you jokes that make you laugh and whose laid-back attitude puts you at ease. Toriel, who cares for you as her own child and made you feel safe when you first found yourself in this unfamiliar place. Asgore, whose presence is both comforting and sad, knowing of the difficult decisions he’s had to make in his life. Once you’ve reached out to all your friends, there’s only one thing left to do.

It seems that there’s still one last person that needs to be saved.

So you reach out to Asriel. And I do, too. He’s not the same as he was all those years ago, when we were just two kids playing in a muddy flower garden, and neither am I. But it’s still him, despite everything. He resists…and he’s still crying out to you as if you’re me. It hurts. I watch him do this every time, desperately latch on to the belief that I’m not really gone, and the ironic thing is that I have been here the whole time.

“I’m not ready for this to end,” he says, confident façade cracking.

It ended a long time ago.

“I’m not ready for you to leave,” he says.

I know.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye to someone like you again…”

…

“So, please…” His voice shakes, laced with despair. “Stop doing this… And just let me win!!!”

He raises his arms and summons all his magic for one final attack. Your vision is overwhelmed with color as the blast hits you, and you barely register the way he screams at you to stop holding on as your HP drops, with each passing second, to an impossibly low number. But it never reaches zero. You don’t die; your soul doesn’t shatter, because you’ve made it this far and you’re not about to give up now.

Finally, the world grows silent as the sound of magic rushing past your ears subsides. You’re exhausted, though Asriel is barely even paying attention to you anymore. He closes his eyes. Suddenly he seems so small inside his godlike form, too small to really be the Absolute God of HYPERDEATH.

“I’m so alone, Chara…” he says. “I’m so afraid…” They’re echoes of words I’ve already heard him say three times before, but they feel like acid nonetheless because it’s my fault and I’m the reason he’s like this, but you firmly tell me that it’s not. I don’t know if I can believe you, but I lean into you and try not to say anything more.

…

The world fades to black, and Asriel stands before you, looking the way I remember him once again. He’s covering his face, wiping away his tears and probably trying to hide the fact that he’s crying, too. He always was a crybaby, wasn’t he?

“I always was a crybaby, wasn’t I, Chara?”

Ha. Indeed.

He pauses for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “…I know. You’re not actually Chara, are you? Chara’s been gone for a long time.”

You open your mouth to protest, but… Come on, Frisk, I can’t do that to him. Not after all that.

“But… Are you sure?”

I’m not… I am not here to stay. It would be a mistake to get his hopes up.

You twist your fingers together, disappointed, but you close your mouth anyway.

I’m only half-listening as he continues, asking for your name (which you have given him three times already) and apologizing for his actions. This is the last time I’m going to see him, is it not? He will break the barrier, and then you will go to the surface with everyone else. And I… Well, I don’t actually know what will happen to me. I won’t be able to come with you. I know that, at the very least. It looks like it might really be the end for me. I don’t know how to feel about that.

You tell him you forgive him, as you do every time. It seems only fair to you, after everything he’s gone through. A part of you understands him, even though most of you doesn’t, and you hope the knowledge that somebody in the universe forgives him gives him some solace. He smiles at you sadly.

He can’t stay, he tells you. With a deep breath, he closes his eyes in concentration. The human souls gather around him as he rises into the air, hovering around him in a circle, and the monster souls follow suit, glowing in the darkness. With the combined power of the human souls and every monster soul in the Underground, each pulsing with the same desire…the barrier is finally broken.

It’s over. There’s a weighty sense of resolution to it now. I don’t want you to Reset again. I know you won’t.

I stare at Asriel through your eyes as he lowers to the ground again, head tilted down, eyes closed. He looks so tired. He tells you that he needs to go, that you should go be with the people that care about you. You should just forget about him, he says. As if that would be possible.

Every word feels like a countdown, and I want to do something, but I can’t move. I need him to forget about me. I can’t be here messing everything up. I don’t…want him to forget me. But I don’t want him to hurt remembering me. I don’t want to stay here… I don’t want to go.

You hug Asriel. To my surprise, your arms tighten around him as you allow me to slip into control. “Just for a minute,” you think. The feeling of warmth and his sweater under my fingers and my chin on his shoulder hits me so suddenly that I can’t stop my tears from running down your face. I relax into the hug, though. I close my eyes and try to forget where we are and what we’ve been through. I don’t want to let go…

When he finally pulls away, he gives me a weird look, but it’s gone in a moment.

“I’ll miss you,” I say without thinking.

He laughs. “Please don’t.”

And just like that, he’s gone again.

“You okay?” you ask as you slip back into control. Your presence is comforting beside mine in your mind.

I am, I say. Yeah.

~~~

Outside, clouds drift lazily across the sky, a beautiful gradient from lilac to yellow to frame the setting sun. Over the edge of the mountainside, you can just barely see the tops of trees stretching out into the distance, leaves tousling gently in the breeze. Tall buildings silhouette the sky on one side, and on the other, more mountains.

The light streams in through the exit to the Underground, of which you stand behind. One of your hands is cupped over the other in front of you, and you run your fingertips over the knuckles absently. You have been standing here for a while, hesitant.

Congratulations, partner, I start in an attempt to ease the tension, you’ve saved everyone once again.

“We did,” you correct. “And Asriel.”

Of course. And now, think about it. Everyone is free for real. They can see the sun, the sky, the stars… There’s a whole future ahead of them. And you get to be a part of it. That’s amazing, is it not?

“Mhm…”

You could stay with Mom. She would make you breakfast in the morning, read you bedtime stories at night. I bet Undyne would be willing to teach you some sick fighting moves. Anime nights with Alphys.

“I could hang out with Sans and Papyrus.”

Yeah! You could learn how to make music with Napstablook. That might be fun. And Mettaton might need some help becoming a star on the surface, too.

You giggle. “I think he’s got that covered.”

Maybe. I smile along with you. But, aren’t you excited? Not everything will be easy, but you have so many people supporting you.

“I know…” You sigh through your nose. “You deserve all that too, though; it’s not fair.”

Hey. The lilac is disintegrating from the sky, fading into a deep orange. Some of the wind makes it into the cave, crisp air whistling through the doorway and cooling your skin. Hey, you know what? It’s worth it. It’s okay.

I think there are tears in your eyes again. Come on, please don’t cry.

I can’t stay here forever. I’m already overstaying my welcome, being dead and all. I was supposed to be gone a long time ago, but…I got to meet you by some miracle, and that makes it all worth it, I think. Even if I can’t stay.

“Charaaa…”

I laugh a little. Don’t worry about me, Frisk. Really. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

You hug yourself- “Hug you,” you correct. Oh. Okay. You hug me, and I, try to hug you back? It’s a little bit awkward, but I appreciate it all the same. The emotional vulnerability is starting to make me uncomfortable, but I need you to know I care about you. I know you’ll be okay.

Ha ha, this goodbye stuff is pretty hard, huh?

“Goodbye,” you say simply, with a teasing smile.

Oh, not so hard for you, it seems. Well then, “goodbye” to you, too.

I pause. …And good luck out there, partner. I think Asriel said it best: take care of everyone for me, okay? Even him.

You nod and give me a shaky little thumbs up. That’s the spirit! (Pun always intended.)

With a glance over to the others, who are in the other room, chatting amongst themselves and waiting for you, you decide you’re finally ready to go. You let everyone know, and the excitement in the room is palpable as you all make your way to the exit. They make a fuss out of you, ruffling your hair and smiling back at you. You let them leave first, and then at last, you step over the threshold yourself. I feel our connection sever.

And then I’m watching the back of your head as you walk away again. Before you reach the others though, you turn around to give me a small wave.

That’s it, I guess… I can’t exactly wave back, but I wish you well and thank you for everything. Together, you and I allow time to continue on.

[angelsanarchy]

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 13

"Aren't you sick of me yet?" "I've had worse company."

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @siriuslymooned @cc-luvr @crypticsewerslut @icarus-star @desert-springtime @shady-the-simp @izuoyarmin

SUNDAY, 11AM

Y/n woke up with only a mild headache, wrapped in the warmth of Clyde's body. His arms keeping a tight hold around her waist, she could hear him quietly snoring into her neck making her smile. She moved her legs slightly causing Clyde to bump his knees into her thigh.

"Mmm good morning." Clyde kissed Y/n's shoulder and gave her another squeeze as she rolled to face him. She noticed that he had taken his hearing aid out last night so he could actually sleep. She loved how safe he felt with her.

"Good morning." Y/n smiled watching Clyde open his eyes.

"How are we feeling?" Clyde asked concerned and looking her over.

"Like my head has been run over but other than that, I feel good." Y/n rested her head on Clyde's. He kissed the top of her head wishing he could pull the pain from her hangover out of it.

"I would love to just stay in bed all day and do absolutely nothing." Clyde sighed reaching over and putting his hearing aid back in.

"But Sunday is my laundry day." Y/n laughed.

"I respect the organized laundry day. It's very responsible of you." Y/n commended.

"I can be quite responsible. I even separate them before I wash them." Clyde teased making Y/n laugh.

"You are far superior to me. I just throw it all in together. I hate doing laundry." Y/n explained stretching out for her phone.

"I can teach you my ways but first I need to eat. I was thinking pancakes? In the event I still have all the things in my fridge." Clyde got up from the bed and walked over to his little kitchenette to search for the essentials.

Y/n saw she had a missed called from the nursing home. She listened to the voicemail they had left on the phone and it was the head nurse letting her know that her dad took a fall but he was okay. This sent Y/n into a silent panic. She tried to call but the call wouldn't connect.

"Hey can I borrow your phone?" Y/n crawled over the bed to snatch his phone before he even answered. She didn't want to call the nursing home on Clyde's phone so instead she set up an uber ride. The smells of pancakes started filling the apartment and Y/n felt terrible she was going to have to leave so abruptly but she had to find out if her dad was okay.

"Okay I don't want to blow your mind too much but I have been known to make a pretty decent pancake so prepare yourself to be impressed." Clyde tied his hair back while he cooked and Y/n pained watching him.

"Hey, I actually have to get home. I forgot I promised to visit my dad today and he gets upset when I flake." Clyde turned around quickly.

"What? You can't go. I thought we were going to be lazy...eat pancakes...do laundry." Clyde frowned unsure of what was happening.

"Arent you sick of me yet?" Y/n teased putting her hand on his chest but he continued to frown.

"I've had worse company." Clyde pulled his hair from the hair tie and Y/n touched his face.

"Please don't be upset with me. I promise I will come back. I just have to get a few things taken care of first." Y/n had taken off Clyde's clothes and put her own clothes back on before while Clyde sat quietly on the back of the couch. She threw her bag over her shoulder and stopped in front of him.

"Thank you for a really great weekend. I haven't had this much fun in a long time." Y/n leaned forward and kissed Clyde on the cheek. He nodded his head at her.

"Yeah it was a lot of fun." Clyde instantly felt regret. He knew she was going to forget. She didn't even give him time to put pants on before she was running out the door for her Uber. Just like that she was gone and he was left with nothing more than an empty apartment and cold pancakes.

Clyde plopped down on the couch and stared into the void of his phone as the Uber app tracked Y/n's car all the way home. He felt like an idiot, watching as it didn't head towards wherever her dad might live but her own apartment. He tossed the phone on the coffee table and shook his head.

"I'm such a fucking loser." He whispered to himself, running his hands down his face. He refused to let this turn into hurt. He had to keep moving or else it would drive him crazy. He jumped up from the couch and started packing up all his dirty laundry in the sack for the laundromat. He usually did his bed sheets once a week but the moment he picked up the pillow Y/N had used, he could smell what was left of her scent. He wasn't sure if it was her perfume or body spray but it was a sweet scent that absolutely didn't belong to him.

He decided to leave the sheets and pillows where they were and take the clothes instead, making sure to grab his cum stained pajama bottoms from last night and shoving them in the bag first. He debated whether or not to throw away the shirt that Y/N puked on but just decided to also throw it in the bottom of the bag.

"Hey love birds! I brought coffee!" Snow burst through the door with a tray of coffee cups and a smile only to push her sunglasses up and see Clyde standing in his underwear, white shirt with a laundry bag in his hands.

"Where's Y/N?" Snow asked confused.

"Gone. She had stuff to do. Took an Uber about an hour ago." Clyde went back to filling the bag and Snow sat the coffee down.

"Did you guys not talk it out?" Snow asked crossing her arms over her chest. Clyde nodded his head.

"Yeah we did. We talked and I apologized for making her feel like I didn't want her and she forgave me." Clyde explained.

"Are you sure she forgave you? Maybe she's a Cancer. They say they forgive all the time but hold onto that shit." Snow paced.

"Well she must have forgiven me enough to dry hump me until we both came but maybe I read the situation wrong." Clyde threw his arms out in anger. Snow stood shocked.

"You broke your rule! Clyde! You broke the rule for her!" Snow covered her mouth with her hands. Clyde's rule was put in place for a specific reason and he didn't usually like bringing it up because it brought him pain. Pain that Snow had to really help him get through.

"Yeah I did and she immediately got up and took off so a lot of good it did me." Clyde shook his head as Snow closed the distance between them with a hug.

"Oh my God! You're in love with her. I'm so happy for you." Snow hugged him tightly and Clyde didn't return it.

"Are you missing the part where she took off as soon as she woke up?" Clyde reminded and Snow rolled her eyes.

"Okay well maybe she really did have shit to do. Did she say what it was?" Snow questioned.

"She said she forgot she made plans to visit her dad but when she called an Uber she schedule the route to her apartment." Clyde explained as if he had some big proof that Y/n had completely blown him off.

"Clyde...she said she was visiting her dad. She can't just go see her dad covered in cum. Some of us have decent father figures and want to keep it that way." Snow laughed. Clyde honestly hadn't thought of that.

"Did she at least say she wanted you to call or that she would come back?" Snow asked gripping Clyde's shoulder to comfort him.

"Well yeah..she said she promised she would come back but I don't know Snow. What if breaking my rule bites me in the ass?" Clyde was geninely concerned that his feelings were much deeper and he was going to be let down but Snow didn't seem to pick up on those vibes.

"Maybe it will be a fun. kinky ass bite. I don't know if she seems like someone who would be into ass play too much though." Snow kept a stern face making Clyde shake his head with a stupid smile.

"I hate you." He grunted zipping up the huge laundry bag.

"You wish you could hate me! She's going to call! She's absouely smitten with you, best friend!" Snow pushed Clyde by the side of his head and he moved the hair from his eyes.

"I hope you're right." Clyde sighed picking up the bag and taking a cup of coffee from Snow's tray. In order for Clyde to not dwell negatively, he knew he was going to have to keep himself busy all day or at least until Y/N called.

[kayakoto-enterprises]

It's in the wiring

Something short to comfort me. I don't know. I apologize if this is ooc. Don't worry about me folks, I'll get through. A bit of a warning since they fight a bit here but it's resolved.

"What's wrong?"

Julianne pulled off the large comforter they were under. She struggled to see through the blue darkness of the room, so she held out her arms to feel for her partner. She found her with her hands over her face quivering. They laid their head on her shoulder when they suddenly realized that she was crying.

She laid there surprised. She's never seen her this vulnerable and she felt her chest tighten just listening to her fight through it. Julianne began to attempt pulling her to her side.

"Sam? Is anything wrong? Why are you crying? Are you alright?" The cat worriedly asked, still attempting to look at her resisting girlfriend.

"Hey..don't hide..I wanna help you..are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?"

She continued to pry her hands away from her face. Julianne's paws were sweating with nervousness, scared something worse might have happened. She continued to call for her to open up and talk. Julianne continued to attempt some kind of contact, some kind of comfort.

"Honey, I'm here..I want you to feel better."

Finally, Sam looked up to her and sat up to come closer to the cat. Julianne had an expression of relief on her face, smiling as she held out her arms for a hug. But her ears drooped realizing Sam didn't look sad or worried at all, she looked furious.

"I'm TRYING to make YOU FEEL BETTER AND ALL YOU DO IS PUSH ME AWAY!"

In a blind rage, Sam pushed Julianne over, knocking her to the nearby bookshelf. Julianne winced at the sudden change in demeanor. This was bad. Oh god. I'm the problem. Oh god.

Julianne laid on the floor, adjusting away from the bookshelf. They ignored the bump at the back of their head from the impact. All there is to do now is listen to how frustrating she was being.

And it was true. She had been feeling depressed and more neurotic than usual. She was crying and venting more. Talking about returning to old habits and returning to impulses. The intrusive thoughts made themselves known.

And it is true. Sam had been trying to help her even if it was not as helpful as she had expected. As helpful as not being so emotionally vocal could get. But she was still there to cook, help her clean up, get her to work, help her finish work...she did too much. This was warranted. She could do more.

What she didn't see now though was the sudden realization that her girlfriend wasn't dreaming anymore. Julianne was on the floor hurt. She actually just hurt her. This was bad. No, this was awful. Why couldn't I control myself?

Still, she carried Julianne to bed and ran to the freezer, coming back with a cool compress wrapped in a towel.

"Julianne..Julianne...hey..tell me where it hurts.."

Her voice was a lot quieter now. Julianne almost didn't hear her. She tried ignoring it like the wind, attempting to go back to sleep.

"Julianne, no." Samantha's voice was a lot more firm this time, "You should never sleep right away after hitting your head that hard. Do you know how many people have died doing that?"

"Yeah but I want to die." Julianne sat up, tearing up again, "Just let me."

"...I still want you alive though."

She's never said that to anybody. You'd never hear it from someone like her. Strange.

The wind howled into the room through the open windows. They struggled to see one another in the faint orange of the street lights and the white glow of the moon. They let the silence speak for them until Julianne leaned back on to Sam's arm.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"If you could call it that. I thought nightmares just scare you."

"You were crying, honey." Julianne wrapped her arms around her only to be corrected to not misplace the cool compress.

"I haven't in a long while. I don't feel sad a lot of the time. It's rare. I just became so frustrated about it in my dream, I started crying."

Julianne realized how selfish she was being. She moved away and removed the cool compress. A headache overcame her. She was stopped again, being put back where she was. Sam held the compress for her now so she wouldn't be able to move out.

"Julianne...please get better."

"I got worried. So worried..what was the dream about?"

"This week..and how depressed you were..and none of my efforts were working. I was doing my best to cheer you up but nothing was working so..I shut down and got angry. And sad. And confused. What was wrong? Is it me?"

Julianne frowned. She really had been so selfish this week. She deserved what she got.

"It's never you, okay? It's my problem and..you shouldn't be responsible for how I feel. If I feel terrible, just..let me be..leave me alone. I don't wanna burden you because look at what's happening. This is unhealthy...I should learn myself." Julianne stammered, shaking her head and preventing any tears from falling.

"But I want to help you feel better because I love you. I think you just need to accept that I do. You can be..sad forever, but you have to let me try helping you."

"You're trying for so long and you're getting frustrated. You should stop."

The compress had thawed and turned into a damp, cold mess. Sam opened the bedside lamp then got up to return the compress. She returned minutes later with a book.

"Yeah, I don't need to stop it though."

She placed the large copy of a French storybook from Julianne's collection on her lap. Her arm reached out to pull Julianne closer so she could see the pages.

"Don't fall asleep yet. Let's stay up for an hour more.."

"I'm..sorry. For burdening you." Julianne choked, finally crying.

The book was set aside to the foot of the bed so Julianne could lay on top of her love. She squeezed her tightly, trying to wring out whatever had been bothering her for the past week. She felt the bump and cuts at the back of their head, feeling her heart sink in regret.

"Julianne.."

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry for pushing you and yelling at you. It must've hurt..It does hurt. I'm sorry I got so angry. I'll never do that again."

The words flowed out so naturally. She had been so used to shutting up or expressing regret in other ways, but like magic, she could help her by talking to her. Reassuring her. Apologizing. Those were so previously unknown but it needed to happen. She could talk like a person now.

"It's fine..you can do that to me when you feel mad at me."

"Hey. Don't say that. I said I'll never do it again. See, that's what I mean. You never let yourself accept love."

This is love, right? Sam thought. She had been divorced from the feeling long ago but that changed so jarringly when Julianne entered her life. It was a special case, so they say.

Julianne frowned. She just silently nodded after being scolded.

"Julianne, I'm not mad at you..I just want you to be better. To feel better again. I know it takes a while for you. I can't blame you.."

This time, the cat listened. She felt her heart soften and warm up accepting it. She sighs, wiping her tears away.

"Don't sleep yet. Let's stay up a little longer..can we read together? Then if you want, we can..hm..turn the radio on and listen to whatever is on..or let's watch something..just so we can wait the impact out.."

She accepted the offer, finally. Julianne leaned on to her and nodded.

[kindnessisweakness2]

8

Cara spent the rest of the night wrapped up in juice, getting to know all she could about the man she instantly deemed sex on legs. Emily however quietly slipped away into the garage on her own. She sighed in relief as she slumped down on a stool leaning against the large red tool box behind her. The cool metal dug into the bare skin of her back, slightly painful but the cold was relieving. She still couldn't get over the nerve of Noah. Part of her really believed he would never leave her alone. Some weird attachment thing, wanting to be her first and last. She scoffed at the thought, he would've been if she never found out the truth. The ugly painful memories wouldn't leave her brain. Since everything happened she hadn't stopped questioning herself. Did she do something wrong? Was it the way she looked? The bright hair and tattoos. The way she dressed maybe? Or it was just her. Boring, lazy Emily. She never does any thing exciting. Rather stay home, read a good book, binge watch a TV Show or cook. "What are you doing in here?" Gemma's voice made her jump. "Fuck!" Emily held her hand to her heart as if it would ease the pounding. "Sorry I was just hiding. Needed a minute. I haven't touched any thing, not snooping don't worry." Emily held her hands up and walked towards the door to leave. "My son seems to be quite smitten with you." The words made her freeze and turn to face the charming legend that was Gemma Teller. Emily had heard the whispers about her. The fiercly protective mother hen. All the girls on Jax's fling list striving for his mothers approval, all but kissing the ground she walked on, hoping she would whisper in her son's ear about how good of an old lady they would make. But Gemma had yet to properly get to know Emily. And when she did she would realise that she wasn't going to bow down to no one. The way she was raised, your respect was earned and you handled your own shit. Head held high no matter how many swings life took at you. "Don't worry mama bear, I'm not looking to worm my way in to your family. He's just being nice since everything happened with Noah." Gemma raised a knowing eyebrow at the young girl as she continued her rant. "Your son strolls around Charming using his good looks and reputation to make every girl smile and drop her knickers. As I've clearly shown with Noah, I don't share." Emily sighed rubbing her temples. "Look I'm sorry. Im not blind. I know how the women are. Trying to insert themselves into the club wanting to gain an old lady title. I get your protecting Jax, but I'm not planning on falling at his feet like everyone else." Gemma smirk stretched across her face and it irked Emily. "I see it y'know. The little looks you throw at each other. The smiles." Emily's stomach twisted at Gemmas words. Was it that obvious? I mean yeah, she was attracted to him but who wouldn't be? "This is ridiculous. We've known each other a few weeks." Gemma eyed her as she moved to sit on the stool Emily jumped from. She was different from Jax's usual choice, a million miles from Tara and the blonde porn star he recently grew fond of. Sure she'd caused some trouble with her temper but Gemma couldn't question how well she handled David Hale when he came snooping. "Deny it all you want darlin'. I'm just giving you a heads up that loving my son isn't easy. This life isn't for the weak." Emily scoffed at Gemma's words as she watched her lean back blowing out smoke from the cigarette she just lit, black and blonde curls falling from her shoulder. She warned her as if she had never loved a biker before. Noah's probation period was hard the first time, but she'd supported him regardless. He hadnt been patched long when he done her dirty. " Yeah i know. I'm still paying the price for it now." Emily spoke through gritted teeth before storming from the garage.

Jax's head snapped up at the sound of the slamming of the garage door. He'd been sat at the tables with Opie, Chibs and Happy. Juice and Cara had disappeared to somewhere quieter, either getting to know each other more or getting down and dirty. Confusion settled on his face as he spotted Emily storming across the lot, face like thunder, his mom stood leaning against the door frame watching her. Ignoring Opie calling his name, Jax got up and chased after Emily. "Em!" She heard him call her name and for some reason it just pissed her off more. "Go back to the party, I'm going home. I'll pick Cara up tomorrow when shes done fucking juice." Emily still spoke through gritted teeth, not turning to look at him once as she walked down the dark street. "What's happened? What did my mom say?" Jax questioned. He knew what his mom was like, how bitchy she could be. Gently grabbing her arm, Jax tugged her towards him stopping her angry power walk. Emily rolled her eyes, refusing to look up at him. Even in these stupid heels he was taller. "she have me the speech I'm assuming she gives every one that gets remotely friendly with you. The old lady warning." Jax sighed as Emily carried on speaking, not giving him a chance to cut in. "Look, I'll tell you what I told her. I'm not after the old lady title. I'm not a damn patch bunny, crow eater or whatever other stupid name you have for them. One biker has already caused me enough hassle so if you expect me to jump into bed with you, your fucking wrong. If you wanting to be around me has anything to do with fucking with Noah, you can fuck off too! I enjoyed watching Cara bust his balls but you seem to have an issue with him and you can leave me out of it. Don't get me wrong Teller, your sex on legs and no doubt a girls wet dream but the fact you know it and you use it to get these girls to fall for you leaving broken hearts around Charming, makes me sick." Turning on her heel, her chest heaving with anger Emily continued down the street. She managed a few steps before turning to face a shocked Jax. "And just so it's extremely clear, the notion of an old lady pisses me off. I have never and will never stand behind a man and do as I am told. I'm an all or nothing kinda girl Teller." Jax smirked at her. She'd invaded his mind since that first day she saw her. She was mouthy and short tempered and Jax honestly loved that about her. He needed people around him that he could rely on to tell him the truth. People around him were always filtering their answers, like smoky truth, trying to please him. Their reputation in town clearly made people treat them different. Some idolised, some avoided. But Emily was never rude to any of them despite what Noah did. She never pryed for information trying to make herself a permanent fixture in club life. Most wanted affiliation, to be protected. Emily never seemed to want anything. Jax closed the distance between them, smirk still stretched across his face. "A girls wet dream huh?" Emily's eyes widened both in shock and Suprise. "Are you kidding me? THAT is the only thing you took from my whole rant?" Jax laughed at how pissed off she was. She was so fucking adorable. "Calm down pocket. I heard everything." Her hands flew to her hips in frustration, she glared at the man infront of her. "Pocket?" Jax grinned his own hands deep in his Jean pockets. "Yeah like pocket rocket! Your always seconds away from exploding." Emily felt the heat on her cheeks and knew she was glowing red. "I've got no ulterior motive here em. I just genuinely like you. Your different, good. Noah didnt see it, clearly didn't appreciate you. My mom's pushy, always putting her foot in her mouth." Jax moved her hands from her hips, replacing them with his own. His thumbs rubbing circles on her exposed skin. Emily bit her lip. She felt like a stupid teenager, her skin tingled at his contact. He was addictive. His warmth comforting. "Come back to the party. If you want to go home later I'll take you on the bike."

Emily didn't want to agree, but one look in those baby blues and she found herself letting a smiling Jax lead her back to the party.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 21 (Granny Plantsim?!)

"You're really pregnant? How many months? How big is the baby right now?" Holly took in her sister's news during a quick visit to see her in Brindleton Bay.

"Two months, and not very big. About the size of a plum, I think."

"Wow! I can't believe I'm going to be an auntie! What are you and Malcolm going to do about it?"

"I'm going to raise the baby alone, actually. I haven't told him yet."

Holly's eyes bulged. "Are you sure you know what you're getting into? Have you talked to Mom and Dad?"

Heather shook her head. "I haven't been home to Henford in a while and I don't want to tell them this news over the phone."

Less than an hour after Holly left to return to San Myshuno, Heather's mother called. "Holly tells me we need to have you over for dinner tonight."

Heather rolled her eyes and laughed. "Of course she did. What are you cooking?"

When Heather arrived in Henford, she was shocked to see her mother with leafy hair and green skin. A tree with a thick trunk and feathery lilac leaves stood in the yard next to their cowplant skeleton, and Neal glanced at his green-haired wife with a loving shake of his head. "You actually did it!" Heather cried. Daisy had grown a portal to an enchanted forest with magic beans, plucked a forbidden fruit, and eaten it whole. "Does it feel weird only needing the sun to refill your hunger?"

"It's the strangest sensation I've ever experienced - even stranger than the wobbled gravity field past Sixam when I went to space. The researcher in me can't wait to write all about it, but I miss your Dad's veggie burgers already."

"How long until the effects of the fruit wear off?"

"A few months. Sometimes half a year. I'll be back to my old self by River and Cassandra's wedding."

"And by the time you'll be a grandmother, hopefully."

Her mother's temporarily green eyes bulged. "You're pregnant?" she said, unsure whether to be elated or concerned. "Is Malcolm the father?"

Heather nodded. "He is. But I've decided to raise the baby alone."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should move in with you to help out," mused Daisy.

"My house is too small for you, me, the cats, and a baby!"

"It's just that your father and I always had each other when you kids were small. We never wanted you to struggle."

"I'll be fine, Mom. I'm like you: When I set my mind to something, I'll see it through," Heather said. "I've thought hard about this since I found out. I know it won't be easy. But I'm ready to do this. I'm ready to be a mom and run my clinic, and I know you'll all be a phone call away if I'm ever in over my head."

With her assurance, her family offered warm congratulations to Heather's life-changing news.

In San Myshuno, Malcolm fretted over what to do for months. He knew his mother expected grandchildren and he wanted children someday, but he was only 25. He didn’t want one right now, and he’d broken things off with Heather, in part, because they’d come from such different worlds and had such different ideas about family. But even after Everett returned to Oasis Springs, Malcolm didn’t hear from Heather, so he took advantage of her silence to put off dealing with his major problem until Heather was only a trimester away from delivery.

But then his mother returned from work one evening and called her son into the kitchen. "I heard quite the piece of gossip at work today. Apparently the owner of Brindleton Pawspital will need family leave soon. How long have you known?"

Malcolm's stomach twisted, and Nancy could tell from his dropped shoulders he'd been lying to her.

"I know that girl is carrying my grandchild and I'll prove it with every resource at my disposal if need be. Is her cat-infested home even safe for a child?"

"Mom, let me deal with it."

"Are you actually going to deal with it, Malcolm? Because if you want to keep sitting on your hands-"

"I said I'll deal with it."

Malcolm still had no idea what he was going to do, but now he had to think fast. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[hayatoseyepatch]

➼ Personality: Tell me a little bit about yourself. What are your pronouns? What are you like? Are you an introvert/extrovert? What are some of your interests? Give me as much to go off as possible to pair you with a match ♡︎

I am Steph. My pronouns are she/her. I'm a mix of introvert and extrovert. I tend to be very bubbly when I get to know you. I am eager to always put myself out there and try to make friends and build relationships. I love music (I collect vinyl) and watch a lot of movies. I bake from time to time, but I mostly have time to cook more. I like to connect with my roots a lot since I'm Guatemalan. I haven't cooked any of my motherland's dishes yet, but I bought a cookbook to experiment with.

➼ Fandoms: Which fandom do you want a match up for? JJK

➼ Trope: What are your favorite writing/fanfic tropes? I like to feel a sense of longing and romance. I'm super corny.

➼ What’s your Type: What do you look for in a partner? Do you have a type? What is it? What gender character do you want to receive of any specifics? My person needs to accept that I can be adventurous, but know that I have limits and won't just do anything. I often am quick to reveal everything about myself, and I'm not afraid of being an open book. I do like both male and female individuals, but I think I've mostly been familiar with males.

➼ Favorites: Who are your favorite characters in your given fandom? Satoru Gojo is my baby boo. Nanami Kento would be second.

➼ Icks: Are there any characters in your chosen fandom that you don’t wish to be paired with? Is there any type of character (personality, hero/villian, etc.) that you don’t like/wouldn’t want to be paired with?

I really really don't like Mahito. He makes my skin crawl.

AHH STEPHHHH ♡⸜(ˆᗜˆ˵ )⸝♡ Thanks so much for your congrats and for indulging me in my event. I hope you enjoy what I've cooked up for you.

I'm gonna match you with the one and only NANAMI KENTO! ♡

⤜♡→ Nanami Kento is an absolute sweetheart, complete husband material if I've ever seen it. You want devotion? Longing? Romance? Look no farther than Nanami Kento.

⤜♡→ Nanami is a former alternative kid, I can just imagine the both of you at concerts. It was a side of him only you got to see. His blazer long gone, replaced with a tight-fitting t-shirt and dark jeans as he was ready for the pit of your favorite group. There was something different about this side, just seeing him let loose and have fun, that made you fall for him just a little bit more.

⤜♡→ Yuuji is a constant visitor in your home. Nanami couldn't help the soft smile on his face. Sipping a cup of tea as he watched you two get so passionate about your interests. Yuuji was a yapper and he was more than happy to share that with you.

⤜♡→ I feel like Nanami is often mischaracterized as a boring workaholic. This is a grade-one sorcerer who just wants to travel. He is more than happy to indulge your adventurous side, so long as you are willing to indulge his.

Nanami knew he had been busier than he would have liked recently, he hated that his career often kept you both apart. First, it was his corporate job, and now sorcery. He sighed upon driving home, at least he had been able to get out early today. The others may tease him for his distaste of overtime, but if they had a loving partner waiting for them at home they would detest it just the same. He walked in the front door calling out that he was home as he stripped himself of his jacket, eyes narrowing as his shoes shortly followed. No response. That was odd. However, it didn’t take him long to find you, his heart melted upon seeing your sleeping form on your shared bed. Eyes soften with adoration as he brushes your hair from your face. Pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead.

Changing out of his work clothes he hums, heading downstairs to get started on dinner. He grins picking up the cookbook from the counter. He had known your want to connect more with your roots, though not having had the opportunity to try any of your culture’s foods. Nanami was an excellent cook if he did say so himself. So after a quick order of some of the ingredients you didn’t have, he got to work. He allowed you to recuperate some your energy, wanting to preserve it for his plans for the rest of the evening. Just as he was placing the finishing touches on the dish his ears pick up your soft footfalls as you come down the stairs.

He turns with a gentle smile collecting you in his strong arms, humming contentedly into your lips “Good evening my love, it seemed like someone was tired when I came home. I had some extra time so I decided to take a crack at one of the recipes from your book.” He sees your eyes widen with surprised delight. His shoulders relaxed, smile returning as he brushed his forehead against yours. “Next time we’ll try it together, hm?” He felt like he got to connect with you in a different way from making something from your culture. And what more could he ask for than to be the reason for your beautiful smile?

[drpeppertummy]

another one from a prompt yipeeeee

[stuffing, tummyache, tummy rubs]

"Val, honey, are you alright?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm alright. Why?"

"Well, you look like you're ready to go flying through the roof."

"I am not gonna go flying through the roof."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. You do seem a little stressed out, though." Connie sat on the arm of the couch, watching Val pace around. "Are you that worried about the kids? I mean, they're your kids."

"It's been so long, Connie! Half of them haven't even met each other! And it's probably been about three hundred years since I last saw my oldest."

"Three hundred? How does that happen?"

"I don't know," Val groaned, holding his head in his hands. "I try to keep in touch. You know I try to keep in touch. Him and Elizabeth too, though, they never call, they never want to talk, they're always busy! Sometimes I think I must've done something to drive them away."

"Aw, come on, I doubt that," said Connie. She stood up and pulled Val into a hug.

"I don't know, Connie," he mumbled into her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, loosely gripping the back of her shirt. "I just don't know."

"Granted, I've only known you for a few years, but you seem like such a good father. If they agreed to come, they can't have that much of a grudge against you."

"I guess not," he sighed. "I just can't believe it's been so long since I've seen some of them."

"It'll be fine," Connie assured him, running her fingers through his hair.

"I hope so," said Val. He didn't sound convinced in the slightest.

In addition to his fretting about the family reunion, Val was beginning to face another problem: his stomach. Connie had been watching her fiancé grow increasingly stressed out over the past few days, a state she was not used to seeing him in, and she had made a few observations. The first, and possibly most important, was that he didn't take his nerves out on anybody else. That was a nice change from her last partner. The second was that Val had a way of pacing around almost nonstop like a trapped animal. It would have been comical if he weren't so troubled. The third, which was now beginning to present its own problem, was that Val seemed to be a stress eater. Each time Connie saw him, he was eating something different. Nibbling on something as he cleaned, snacking between chores, spending his breaks worrying with a bowl of leftover pasta. Without realizing it, he'd even finished off a few snack packages that he'd opened himself. Connie found this quirk particularly amusing; as much as Val liked cooking, he wasn't typically a big eater. In fact, apart from the occasional steak indulgence, Connie thought he ate like a bird. As amusing as his nervous appetite was, however, she worried that he was going to be spending this long-awaited reunion with a stomachache.

Connie wasn't the only one to whom this thought was occurring. Val, after a few days of trying to bury his anxieties with junk food, was beginning to feel the effects of failing to give his poor stomach a break. He felt bloated and queasy, and his nerves weren't helping. Still, he found himself unable to stop. When Connie found him again, he was standing against the kitchen counter with a bowl of cold tortellini. Their eyes met, and he looked at her like a deer in the headlights.

"Val?"

"Yeah?" He swallowed his mouthful.

"I think you must've finally given yourself a tapeworm, because that's the third time today I've seen you eating cold pasta out of the fridge." She gently took the bowl from his hands. "Take it easy with the snacking, alright? You're gonna make yourself sick."

"I'm trying," he said, looking ashamed of himself. "I just don't know what to do with myself! I feel like I'm losing my mind!"

"You definitely do seem restless," she agreed with a sympathetic smile. She set the bowl aside and placed her hands on his waist. His loose, layered shirts concealed the shape of his body, but the feeling of his swollen middle under her palms was unmistakable. Connie raised her eyebrows.

"Sheesh, Val," she said, bringing one hand from his side to the middle of his belly. His eyes fell sheepishly away from her. Up until then, even as he realized he was eating too much, he'd still been too distracted and full of nervous energy to really focus on it. Now, the full extent of it was beginning to hit him. The tortellini he'd topped off with sat like a heavy, congealed boulder in his already bloated stomach, and Connie's touch made him suddenly aware of just how much his belly was bulging out.

"Alright," said Connie, taking him by the hands. "I think this place is as clean as it's gonna get. So we're not gonna clean anymore, alright?"

"Okay."

"Now, you and I are going to go lay down, and you, sir, are going to take a nap," she said. "Alright?" Val nodded. The two of them made their way into the bedroom and changed into their pajamas. Connie caught a glimpse of Val's belly poking out absurdly from his slender frame as he changed his shirt. She laid down first, and when Val climbed into bed, she grabbed him and pulled him up beside her.

"Let's try and sleep some of this off," she said, patting his round tummy.

"I'll do my best." He snuggled up against her, pulling the blanket up to his chin. "I love you."

"I love you too," said Connie. She gave him a kiss on the nose and held her hand on his stomach, gently rubbing the taut skin. The comforting motion slowly melted Val's anxiety away, and before long he was fast asleep in her arms. Smiling sleepily, Connie held him close and drifted off with him.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Your ask box is always full of bullshit, so I’m going to share my bullshit with you.

Love is:

Having a huge fight with your partner about the fact that you had a terrible day at work and they came home equally as pissed.

You spent a couple hours apart, even trying to sleep in separate rooms.

Then they come to you and tearfully apologize for being a tit while asking you to come to bed.

It’s not the fights that matter… it’s the way you can so easily make up.

🥹

This gives me such intense CI Clexa vibes I'm breathless

Mini snippet?

/////////////////////

You're coming home from a very long day. Been up since 5am and haven't stopped once since your feet hit the very expensive little rug you keep next to your side of the bed to cushion your knees whenever you push Clarke down and bow to her, if you will...

Except you'd had no time for anything that fun that morning, much less any second of the day after because it'd been one meeting after the next. Putting out one corporate fire after the next. Kissing so much concerned stakeholder ass that it was no wonder you'd completely forgotten to even eat lunch. You're pissed and you're exhausted and you're in no mood for anything other than inhaling whatever the cook made for dinner and then draping yourself dramatically across your bed.

Except

Here comes Clarke.

Your beautiful, sensual, exquisite wife.

Hurling a thousand questions at you in rapid fire succession.

Demanding why you aren't also responding to each color swatch as though these are the most important decisions of your life.

Like you should have known to activate some magical energy reserve for when you got home because Clarke was on a deadline for the gallery fundraiser. Like somehow, because you could not give less of a shit in this exact moment if that certain shade of teal looks tacky with the gallery's signature royal purple, that means you do not respect your wife's work.

It— She— You—.... It does not go well.

A decent sized yelling match and a few slammed doors later, you find yourself alone in the bedroom, staring at your tear-brimmed eyes in the vanity mirror right where she had left you with a very thoughtful goodnight wish for you to "go fuck yourself, Lexa" before she'd dismissed herself to the guest suite for the night.

The following hour and.... seven minutes, you count as the number flips from where you lay watching your clock from the dark and loneliness of your too-big bed, are miserable. You regret every word, even if you did kind of mean them at the time. You know you could've been gentler.... maybe. You are just tired and so frazzled with everything going on at work. But you should've done better. Wasn't that what you'd both promised. Should've just pushed through and looked things over with Clarke. Taken the time to explain that of course you care, darling, and that no of course none of it was stupid. It was flattering to know your wife valued your opinion to begin with, right? You should've made that clear. Made plans to go over it over breakfast.

It's a restless hour and... eight minutes now that have you sitting up in bed, dragging your tired bones over to grab your robe with a mental note to set an alarm to call in late to work in the morning, at the exact same time your bedroom door creaks open and that wonderful head of blonde pops in. Red and puffy eyes searching for you in the darkness, frowning at the empty bed, before finding you frozen and halfway toward the door. A sniffle is her only announcement as Clarke walks over and just wraps her arms around your waist. Buries her head in your neck.

"I hate that guest suite."

Skin raising in goosebumps from where she soothingly scratches her nails down your back, you hum an acknowledgment and hold her right back. "Well... You did design it to make people not want to stay too terribly long," you reasons with a stroke of fingers through Clarke's hair. They're sopping wet and ice cold. Which means she'd been crying in the shower for the last hour until all the hot water ran out. "I'm sorry, darling."

Clarke shakes her head. Probably half wipes her nose on your sleep shirt, because she is a barbarian. Yo can't really bring yourself to care. "I was a dick," she says in a muffle of lips against your neck. "I saw how tired you were, and I kept pushing, because I'm nervous about this... But, I don't want anyone to know I'm nervous about it. And if you hated everything, then I knew—"

You know how incredibly hard that is for Clarke to admit. Because it's just as equally hard for you at times. Not the part about valuing each other's input, but about needing or wanting it at all to begin with. It's about doubting herself and her decisions when so much of her life is spent acting and believing that she doesn't need anything from anyone because she's entirely in control of it all.

She's Clarke Goddamn Griffin. Fuck everyone and their opinion.

Except you...

You've always been able to intimately relate to that feeling.

So her bristling reaction to your indifference, her sandpapered words and immediate serrated retorts, it all makes perfect sense now. Neither of you are entirely innocent here, and neither of you are entirely at fault.

Kissing her always makes Clarke feel better.

Taking a few minutes to blow dry her hair makes her feel pampered and cared for, even if she does hate any insinuation of being a princess.

Letting her undress you and tuck you under the sheets just to mold herself to your body with a whisper for you to go to sleep makes her feel in control of her life once again. Because despite all her hard edges, and her brashness, and her passionate anger, your wife likes feeling like she takes care of you.

Like you need her there just to fall asleep after a hard day battling the world.

And she's right, you very much do.

[lemoncrushh]

Out of Bounds - Chapter 27

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 2123

By the time Penny got home, I had begun to feel as close to normal as I had all week. Still, something had been gnawing at my brain all day. I couldn't seem to shake it.

I stood in the bathroom, my birth control pills in my hand. Could I be pregnant? In all the time I'd been on the pill, even back when James and I were still having sex regularly, I'd never once considered it could be possible. And I still knew there was a very, very slim chance I was. I'd never skipped a pill. My periods were always regular. In fact, I...

I counted my pills again, counting the days backwards in my head. I was due for another period in a few days. If I was in any way pregnant, and what I had been feeling was...God forbid...morning sickness, it sure seemed to happen quickly. Weren't you supposed to at least skip a period first before the signs began to show?

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. I supposed I could wait until next week and see if I got my period. I dropped my pills back in my toiletry bag and sauntered into the kitchen where Penny was making dinner.

"You really should allow me to do something, Penny," I commented. "I feel like a guest here, and I don't want that."

"Don't be silly," she argued. "I'm not asking you to cook when you've been sick. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Much better, actually," I said. "Except..."

Penny raised her head from the pot she was stirring. "Except what?"

I debated for a second whether I wanted to confess my worry with Penny. She was the one who had asked me after all. But instead, I shook my head, deciding to take a different approach.

"Nothing," I answered, leaning against the counter. "I'm just not looking forward to signing those papers. But I know I need to get it done."

Penny nodded. "If you need help with anything, baby doll, just ask. Or if you want me to leave you the hell alone, say so."

I grinned at her, taking a cup towel and wringing it in my hands. "Penny..." I started.

"Yes?"

"Do you want kids?"

Penny stopped stirring and lowered the setting on the burner before turning to me.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "Maybe someday. It's just...right now I don't really see it on the agenda, you know?"

I nodded. "What about Zack?"

"What about him?"

"Does he want kids?"

Penny chuckled. "Zack is twenty-one. I can't imagine him being a father."

"Ever?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Well...I wouldn't say ever," said Penny with a shrug. "To be honest, we haven't discussed it. We haven't been going out that long."

I bit my lip and nodded again. I had to remind myself how quickly my romance with Harry had begun. We'd barely known each other three months. Three months! How could any sane person go through all I'd been through in that short amount of time?

"Yeah..." I mused. "I suppose it is a little soon to be discussing kids."

Penny turned to open the refrigerator door and stopped, slamming it shut.

"Tisa!" she exclaimed. "Are you...?!?!"

"No!" I shook my head. "I mean...I don't think so...shit, I don't know!"

"I thought you said you were on the pill."

"I did. I am. But...you don't think..." The cup towel I'd been holding was now wrapped around my wrist, and I pulled and yanked on it.

"I mean...I've heard of it happening," Penny remarked. "But I think it's pretty rare."

"Yeah..."

"Did you skip a period or anything?" she asked.

"No, not yet. It's due next week," I answered.

"Okay..." she nodded, the gears in her head turning. "Okay, then maybe that's not it. Maybe you just had the stomach flu."

"Maybe," I agreed. "Probably."

"You could always take a test," Penny added. "You know, just to make sure."

"You think I should?" I bit my lip.

"Sure. Because you're probably not. But at least it will ease your mind, and you'll probably feel a whole lot better."

"Alright," I sighed, leaning against the counter once more.

"Now!" Penny insisted, practically nudging me out of the kitchen. "Go get a test and take it!"

I laughed and grabbed my shoes, slipping them on before shoving into my coat. I waved at Penny and headed out the door and across the street to the drug store.

Other than school on Thursday, it was the first time I'd been outside since my meeting with Justine at the coffee shop. Although it had only been a few days, it already seemed so far away. I watched a woman pushing her baby in a stroller across the crosswalk ahead of me. Could that be me in nine months? Pushing Harry's baby along everywhere I went? I quickly shook my head. I was being ridiculous.

I stepped into the drug store, the automatic doors sliding open with a whoosh of unnecessary cool air. Something about the pharmacy always made me feel a combination of comfort and pity. I made my way toward the back of the store, down the aisle filled with various fall and Thanksgiving decorations, though overhead I could already hear the sound of Nat King Cole singing about chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

I stopped in front the display of various brands of pregnancy tests. I always found it funny how they were inevitably situated next to the condoms, as though they were mocking us all, saying, Oh didn't use one of these? You'll probably need one of these.

I couldn't help but notice a large pregnant woman standing at the pharmacy pick-up. She looked like she was ready to pop any minute. Her hand was pressed against her lower back, seeming to help her stand upright, for surely, she would fall over otherwise. She made eye contact with me, and I smiled at her.

"Which one?" I pointed at the pregnancy tests. I figured she would know.

She gave me a soft smile, shuffling her feet toward me. She reached forward and grabbed a box, handing it to me.

"This one's good," she said. "It's not as expensive as some of the others, but basically works the same."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Good luck," she called after me as I turned down the aisle toward check out.

As I made my way back to the apartment, my mind was going crazy with what ifs. Not just what if I was pregnant, but what if I was and Harry was angry about it? What if that was a deal breaker for him and he wanted to end our relationship? Or what if he didn't? What if he insisted on marrying me and raising this child together? Was I ready for that? I shook my head. I still had to settle this divorce first for God's sake. Talk about bad timing.

Penny was setting the table when I returned. "How'd it go?" she asked when she saw me shut the door.

I held up the bag indicating I'd gotten the test. Then I silently headed for the bathroom. I read the instructions first, three times to make sure I was doing it correctly, though it seemed easy enough. Pee on the stick, wait. One line you're not pregnant, two lines you are.

I made myself not look at the stick after I'd urinated on it, placing it on the sink while I pulled my pants back up and washed my hands. Then I put the lid down on the toilet and sat and waited, my eyes shut tight. I was afraid to look. My life had already gone completely topsy turvy. If the test was positive, I didn't know what I'd do.

I rubbed my eyes and opened them, grabbing the test. One bright pink line. Only one. It was negative.

Relief flooded through me tenfold as I exhaled slowly. I tossed the stick in the trash and exited the bathroom. Penny sat at the table, her plate untouched. She had waited for me. Emotions overcame me and the tears began to fall.

"Oh, Tisa," she cried, standing up and extending her arms.

I ran to her embrace, hugging her tightly.

"Tisa, it's gonna be okay," Penny murmured. "Harry loves you."

"No, no," I wiped my eyes. She had gotten the wrong idea. "I'm not pregnant. It was negative."

"What?" she glared at me, her eyes wide. "Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry. I just got emotional."

Penny sighed, rubbing my back. "I understand. These past few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster for you."

I nodded, hugging her once more before releasing her. We both sat down at the table and she handed the casserole dish to me.

"Thank God though, right?" she exclaimed. "Now you know it was just a stomach bug."

"Right," I said sucking in my lips. It was a relief. I didn't need to be pregnant now. And by my twenty-year-old boyfriend no less.

So then why did I feel so sad?

After Penny had gone to bed, I lay in my own staring up at the ceiling. Thoughts of babies kept running through my head. I imagined holding one, kissing its forehead, inhaling its sweet scent. Then I imagined walking into the nursery, Harry standing over the crib, dangling a rattle or stuffed bunny and smiling as the baby reached up for it. These images began to consume my mind until I realized I was crying.

I knew it was unnecessary. I knew I was being silly about the whole thing. Babies were the furthest from my mind. Even after all this time, I still was not ready to be a mother. Sure, the decision had not been solely my own in the beginning. My mind had been made up for me by my husband. Because I had been young and naive. I had known then that I was not ready to start a family, so I'd agreed with James when he told me he didn't want kids. I guess even a small part of me thought perhaps one day he would change his mind. But still, being parents was not top on my wish list.

So why was I being so ridiculously emotional about it now, knowing that I wasn't pregnant with Harry's child? Was it merely because for one fleeting second I had thought perhaps I was? That it was possible I could be having Harry's baby? Because I was so completely in love with someone that the idea of our love merging could create another person? And now the knowledge that it was not true left an emptiness in my heart?

I must have cried myself to sleep because I woke with a startle when my phone alerted me of a text. It was Harry, saying he was home from work and missed me. Instead of texting him back, I called him.

"Hey," he greeted sleepily. "You're awake."

"Barely," I yawned

"Did I wake you?"

"Yes," I said. "But I'm happy you did."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, and I miss you, and I can't wait to see you and kiss you all over."

"Wow." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Now I can't wait either."

"I love you, Harry!" I exclaimed

"I love you, too, baby," he said. "Are you okay?"

I laid my head back on my pillow, pulling the blankets up to my neck. "I am now."

"Good." I could hear him sigh, and I pictured him getting comfortable in his bed, his tattooed arm behind his head, his sheet and comforter barely covering his waist. "I wish you were here with me."

"I will be tomorrow."

"Yeah? Are you gonna stay the night?"

"If you want me to," I grinned.

"Why on earth would I not want you to?" His voice was deep and sexy, and I was suddenly turned on.

I chuckled. "I should probably let you go to sleep."

I heard him groan in protest.

"Harry...stop it."

This time he laughed. "Alright. Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight."

I hadn't felt the need to tell him about my little pregnancy scare. Since the test had come back negative and he hadn't known anything about my worry, there was no need to worry him as well. What's done was done.

Just hearing his voice had put my mind at ease. I couldn't wait to spend a relaxing evening with him and our friends. I cuddled up on my side and managed to fall back asleep quickly, getting a full night's rest.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[hinatastinygiant]

3 | Ursa Major

Pairing: Kita x Fem!Reader

What's Meant to Be Masterlist

The evening of your outing with Kita, you wait at the cafe where you had previously met him. A minute later he arrives with a small smile on his face.

"I'm sorry," he says as he approaches you. "I didn't mean to be late."

"You're not," you reply as you hug him. "You're right on time."

"Shall we?"

"Lead the way," you smile, following him.

The two of you make your way down the busy street. He leads you a couple of blocks over to a beautiful restaurant with a large glass door.

As you step inside, you take a moment to look around the room. It's fairly simple but elegant. The two of you are greeted by a server and led to a table in the center of the dining area.

"Is this alright?" the server asks as she sets down the menus.

"This is perfect, thank you," Kita replies.

"Enjoy your meal," she smiles, and turns to leave.

"What a beautiful restaurant," you say, turning to Kita.

"It is," he agrees. "I thought it would be a good place for us to catch up."

"Yeah," you smile, nodding.

"So, Y/N," he begins, picking up his menu. "Tell me more about what you've been up to."

"Well," you say, picking up your own menu. "I've been spending my spare time trying to learn how to cook."

"That's nice. What have you been learning to make?"

"Anything and everything," you reply. "I've gotten pretty good at baking. But my skills are lacking when it comes to cooking food. I can barely make a decent meal."

He chuckles softly. "Well, I'd offer to help but I can't say I'm much better, honestly. Maybe the two of us can try and help each other some time."

"Sure," you smile.

"You've really grown up," he then says.

"We've been out of high school for some time," you laugh.

"Yeah, but you're different now," he shrugs. "I don't really know how to describe it. You've changed, but you're still the same."

"I guess that's a good thing," you say, a bit uncertain.

"It is," he reassures.

Just then, the server returns, and the two of you order. Kita then orders a bottle of wine for the two of you which the server quickly brings to the table.

"How has your life been?" you ask him. "I remember you said something about finance, is that correct?"

"Yes, I work for a company called Hyogo," he replies. "It's a pretty big investment firm. We handle a lot of different portfolios. It's a pretty stable job. I don't know what else I would do if I weren't doing this."

"What do you mean? You were so good at volleyball back in high school! You could've gone pro."

He shakes his head, laughing. "I don't know about that. But I do miss it sometimes."

"Same here," you say. "I'm glad we met up again."

"Me too," he smiles.

After the two of you eat, the conversation between you grows more comfortable. You've moved past the simple pleasantries and started having conversations like two friends who haven't missed a beat.

"So, you're still a dancer?" Kita then asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Yes," you say, nodding. "It's all I've known."

"And you're happy with that?"

"As happy as I can be," you shrug.

He studies your face for a moment. "Something seems off, though," he observes.

You're surprised by his intuition. You've always loved dancing. It's probably because he saw the bruise on your face the other night.

"I'm okay, really. It's just been a long week," you lie.

"You can tell me, you know," he says, gently touching your hand.

You bite your lip and avert your gaze, trying to decide what to say. "I'm serious, Shinsuke," you tell him as you pull your hand away from his. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry," he shakes his head. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's alright," you assure him.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. You two finish eating and drink a few glasses of wine. By the end of the night, the two of you have gotten pretty buzzed. It takes you a while to realize that you're going to be late to work, and drunk, no less.

"I should probably head home," you lie to him. "I have an early morning."

"Do you need a ride home?" Kita offers.

"No, no," you shake your head. "I'm okay."

"Alright," he nods. "Let me walk you out, though."

"Okay."

The two of you stand up, and make your way toward the front door.

As you step outside, the cool air hits your skin. You feel yourself sober up slightly.

"It was nice catching up, Shinsuke," you say, smiling.

"You too," he replies.

"I'm sorry to cut this night short but I've really got to get going. It's getting late."

"Don't worry about it," he says, stepping closer.

You're caught off guard as he leans forward and kisses your cheek.

"Thanks for tonight," you manage to say.

"Of course," he smiles, taking a step back.

Feeling a bit dizzy after the kiss, you turn and head towards work. As soon as you get to the club, you're pulled aside by the manager.

"What happened to you?" Takao asks.

"Nothing," you say.

"You're late. And... drunk?" he observes. "What were you doing?"

"I'm sorry," you say. "I won't let it happen again."

"You better not," he huffs. "Go get dressed."

"Yes sir, sorry."

He shakes his head and walks off.

You quickly make your way to the dressing room but before you can get there, Sayuri rushes to your side and links her arm with yours. "Hey, how was the big night?"

"I'm fine," you say.

"Really?" she asks, raising her eyebrow. "You smell like wine. Were you drinking?!"

"I was with Kita," you whisper.

"I know... Wait," she says, eyes widening. "Did something happen?"

"No, not like that," you shake your head.

"Well, what happened then?"

"We went to a nice restaurant. We talked, we drank. We didn't go further than that. And then I walked here. I'm just running a little late. I talked to Takao. It's okay," you then reassure her.

"So nothing happened between the two of you?"

"No."

"Are you disappointed about that?"

"Sayuri..."

"Sorry! I was just wondering," she shrugs. "You at least got his number, right?"

"I already have it from high school," you reply, not thinking much of it.

"Oh yeah? Even after the great contact deletion of last year?" she laughs.

"Shit, you're right," you say, shaking your head.

"How're you going to talk to him again?"

"I can just look him up on Instagram or something," you shrug. "I know where he works."

"Ooooh, stalker," she teases.

"No, it's not like that," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Uh huh," she says. "Are you gonna actually do it? DM him, I mean."

"I dunno," you shrug. "Maybe."

What's Meant to Be Masterlist