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samwrights · 4 years ago

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I Found You

I have no excuses for this one except I’m a dirty dirty Overhaul fucker.

On the real though, this one was very loosely inspired from Yagami Yato’s plot lines for Dabi and Overhaul. These routes inspired the Underground and Dabi and Kai’s occupations, otherwise everything else was just me being a simp.

⤞ Pairing: tattooed!Reader x Former Villain!Chisaki Kai

⤞ Word Count: 16,850. Yes you read that right.

⤞ Warnings: language, arson, awkward questions, reader smokes, I shafted Dabi again and made him the best friend...again, slightly vivid gore, mentions of death, male masturbation, daddy kink, age difference, breeding kink (ish), dirty talk, dom!Kai,

I’m sorry this is so long. Just kidding, no I’m not. I love writing really long fics. Honestly, I’m trying to see how much I can push the boundaries of my writing and how long I can keep one idea conhesive and consistent and how much I can flesh out. Eventually these longer oneshots will be cross-posted to my AO3, I just really need to do my paper. Also Tropium Tattoos is pronounced as Tro-Pie-Um.

The color of fire always burns in accordance to temperature as well as the material that it’s burning. Watching the local Underground clinic slash orphanage burn not only red, but an almost ethereal green from the copper couplings and details of the building felt like an early Christmas warning—like the Underground was a target and the rest of the hidden city would soon follow by the holiday. That warning was only followed by disgust at the thought of someone feeling the need to go after a free clinic and orphanage in a city built out of a hollow sewer full of exiles for whatever fucking reason.

Your heart is an amalgam of aching and sorrow and anger as you watch the flames burst through the windows of the shoddy building from a safe distance. From where you stood outside of your tattoo parlor only two blocks down, you see a crowd beginning together. Much to your surprise, most of them were only kids with one adult herding them—a man you recognized to be the owner of the building currently meeting its demise.

The doctor of the clinic is as calm as ever, or rather trying to be, quietly attempting to do a headcount of his children. It seemed that concentration was alluding him, given the situation, because he swears up and down that he knows he has nine kids. Yet, he seemed to be unable to count past eight. He’s trying not to panic, but one of the kids speaks his greatest fear into fruition. “Daddy, Eri’s not here!” Golden eyes widen until the sclerae are fully round, pupils constricting in fear. This ‘Eri’ was special, you realize as you observe from a short distance away. The doctor is looking back at his children who are all in some form of tears and shambles then back at the burning building like a ferocious game of ping pong. Chisaki Kai can’t just leave his kids out here—not when he is almost certain that this attack was premeditated. But his daughter, his eldest daughter at that, was still inside potentially being engulfed by flames.

Back and forth.

Your body moves without a second thought.

Your body moves, ignoring the screams from other bystanders for you not to go inside the burning clinic as you burst past the dilapidated red door. Upon entering, copper decor and steel support beams had fallen from the ceiling, sparking flames that were separating you from the stairwell that led up to the orphanage. There was no way you would be able to find this Eri person through the wreckage—not alone at least. Maybe your dumb quirk was good for something.

You didn’t even realize you had a quirk until the age of twenty when you had gotten your first tattoo. It wasn’t anything crazy—a traditional-style three-eyed wolf’s head on your arm—only to wake up the following morning with no soreness, no tenderness, and no ink on your body. The wolf laid beside you, curled up in your bed, somehow manifesting into real life. At first it was terrifying, of course, but after learning how to return the creature back to your body you realize it might not have been a total waste of money. Your quirk, something you jokingly called the Magic Pencil quirk in reference to a Spongebob Squarepants episode from your childhood, was officially registered through the government on the Surface as Life Canvas. Again, it was a pretty dumb quirk unless you knew just what to utilize. Now your body was littered with dozens of creatures, weapons, hell even a telephone just in case you might need it. But the wolf was your favorite, as it was your first, and he was just the one to call for in this situation. Activating your quirk, you pinch at the ink on your forearm until it begins to peel off before setting it down on the ground. The line work stands on its own before the ink fills out into a three-dimensional mass and a now recognizable creature.

“There’s a child somewhere here. Help me find them,” you implored your creation, cautiously climbing around the shambles while it did the same, though much nimbler than you. Fragments of the stairs were missing, some of railings were in flames—it was hard for you to get anywhere at the moment. A scream rips through the walls, a young girl you realize. She’s probably now seeing your large and somewhat creepy three-eyed wolf. Maneuvering carefully, you find spots that have yet to burn until you see a little girl cowering away from flames in her bedroom and away from your quirk. “Take my hand!” You try to scream, but the way building was going down was deafening. Instead, you cross a patch of fire to scoop the frail child in your arms and trapping the both of you behind a brazen wall of flames. Patting the wolf on the head, as if deflating it with your magical hands, it flattens back into a two dimensional drawing and returns to your body to grant you the ability to switch out to a manifestation that would prove to be more useful in this situation. You repeat the process, this time with a Phoenix from under your bosom that emerges just outside the window closest to the two of you. “Hold on tight,” you tell her as you pull her flush against your own body before smashing through glass to land the back of the Phoenix, covering her head to make sure the shards didn’t mar her skin. With a gentle descent, you place her feet first on the concrete with her family.

“Eri!” The doctor of the clinic calls out in relief, arms wrapping around his daughter tightly. Your lips purse in a small, tight smile before you’re off on your way again, riding off into the horizon on the back of your strange creature. And for a moment, Chisaki Kai is torn between going after you to thank you while Overhaul wants nothing more than cleanse his children and you for touching his precious daughter with a vile quirk. He settles on the former, golden eyes watching your back disappear into the dark cavern of the Underground city.

Weeks had passed since the fire burned down the orphanage clinic. Tabloids were published trying to figure out who the mysterious hero was, though most of the articles feared that an actual Hero was among the residents of the Underground. The Underground welcomes Heroes like the human body welcomes the plague—they tried to be eradicated and killed off. Not to say that quirks themselves weren’t welcome, no. It’s just that most of the residents were quirkless and those that did have one were all registered in a public database, separate from the government mandated one up on the Surface, so that quirk wielders were no secret.

All but you, anyway.

One of these well-known resident holders was Chisaki Kai. Quirk: Overhaul. Local doctor and caretaker of the orphaned, quirkless kids. Though, whether their powers had yet to manifest or he had removed them himself due to his vile distaste for the genetic mutation was unknown to the public.

Another was the leader of the Underground: Dabi. The Cremation user who was presently lounging in one of your dingy, beat up sofas of your tattoo shop. “You know, most of the people just want to know who you are,” he supplies, flipping through the most recent news article. Instantly, he knew it was you that had rescued the little girl from the burning building, knowing full well of your quirk regardless of how rarely you used it.

“And half of them want my head because they think I’m a Hero,” you spit the last word out as you finish tidying up your workspace. Your last client of the evening had just left, leaving you to close up shop while Dabi came to bother you as you did so. Not that you complained considering he had been a close friend for a long time. “Like I would ever be a Hero.” Heroes were the reason you and many others here in the Underground existed in this hidden sewer metropolis. Whether the Heroes had destroyed their livelihoods, their families or, in your case, accidentally killed your parents while you were still a teenager and you had nowhere to go, they were at fault for the creation of this cozy, dingy city.

“Says here that Eri wishes to personally thank you,” Dabi adds, turquoise eyes flickering in your direction as you stop at the mention of her name. “We could hold some little rally, get you a medal—“

“Dabi, no.”

“—or you could just stop by town hall with me. Overhaul and the kids have been staying there while the clinic gets rebuilt.” You mull his words over in your head while capping all your ink bottles and putting them away in their respective drawers. Dabi takes your silence as a gesture of you thinking, even more so as you aggressively sanitize your client chair. “Come on, [ name ], she’s just a kid.”

“Yeah, but I hate kids.”

“Then stop acting like one.” With that, the leader leaves your shop, bells tolling as he exits. You weren’t being childish, you internally bite, silently and stubbornly. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t want to just announce that the lone tattoo artist of the Underground had a quirk that the public didn’t know about. It wasn’t your fault that your body moved without thinking. And it certainly wasn’t your fault that you rescued the daughter of the most notorious quirk hater in the city.

Chisaki Kai was not quiet when it came for his distaste of quirks despite having one himself. Rumors floated all around the Underground that all of the children in his care had their quirks removed by his own hand, Eri included. What kind of monster did that? To his own child, no less. The thought made you sick to your stomach, only reaffirming your initial decision to not meet with Eri.

But thinking of her brings great sadness to you. She was merely a child—a child who probably didn’t understand her father’s distaste. A kid who just wanted to thank the woman who saved her and nothing else. A sigh passes your lips as you head up the stairs from your shop to your attached apartment, turning off the lights to Tropium Tattoos. It’s not fair to deny her, you think.

Maybe you’ll just sleep on it for now.

The following morning was quiet, as it was every morning in a city built out of a sewer. But eerily...too quiet. The sound of chirping nature and wildlife was a foreign concept now, especially years later. But there were no sound of bikes or clunky old cars passing by or arguing neighbors—if noise was present at all, it was in the form of faint crackling and crinkling of papier-mâché but somehow on a grander scale. It was new. There’s a grotesque smell in the air; a cross between a stale bonfire and rotting wood and warm smoke.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

Panic fills your veins, throwing your nearly bare body out from under the covers. Ripping open your bedroom door and flying out the narrow entryway that led to the stairwell, you’re met with orange flames burning the wood of your staircase leading down to your shop. There’s no time for you to think about anything other than retreating back to your living room, to where the flames had yet to enter the threshold. Glancing out the large bay window behind your couch, you debate how steep of a drop it is from your second story down onto the cold pavement without sparing a second thought to how you could break your own fall. Contemplation wears down at your time to escape, you realize, as the fire is now entering your living space and burning brightly like a firework and catches onto the wooden console table in your entryway as well as the walls. Without another moment’s hesitation, you throw yourself through the window, bracing for impact from both the glass and the inevitable shattering of at least one bone.

“[ name ]?!” You hear Dabi yelling over the sound of collapsing support beams from the inside of the building. All that’s on your mind is pain—throbbing pain and an ear-splitting cry as you try to cradle your probably broken arm from the back alley of your shop. Dabi calls out your name again, running over towards you while still trying to be somewhat mindful of all the shards of glass in fear of accidentally kicking more in your direction. Between rapid breaths, a few heavy coughs escape your lungs, no doubt from smoke inhalation. “I got you,” he murmurs as he picks you up gingerly. Another groan leaves your lips—your whole body hurts and were you more coherent and not in shock, you probably would have realized sooner that you’d broken more than just your arm. “Find who did this and bring them to me,” Dabi snarls at the small squadron behind him attempting to put out the fire that was destroying your livelihood as he makes his way back to town hall.

It takes everything in Dabi’s body to not stamp his entire way back into his living quarters and the only reason he isn’t is because he’s carrying your busted body. This is the fourth fire in two weeks with no discernible pattern. All he knows is that it started with Overhaul’s clinic and now has somehow reached your quaint and quiet tattoo shop. As a leader, it makes Dabi want to tear his hair out. As a friend, he’s just pissed off.

He’s thankful you’ve passed out just so he doesn’t have to deal with you bitching about how gruff he’s being. Though, it certainly dawned on him that you had probably fallen unconscious from the sheer agonizing pain of breaking multiple bones simultaneously. He sets you down, far from gently, in the residential living room upstairs of the Town Hall building. “Overhaul!” He bellows out, not even caring if the children heard his angry tone right now.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” the doctor appears from around the corner, a clearly agitated look on his face, even beneath a simple black mask. The irony isn’t lost on Dabi despite his composure—he remembers once upon a time when Kai only went by the name of his quirk. Funny how years go by. “Her again?” Overhaul all but sneers, looking at your limp body that was covered only in a thin tee shirt and a pair of panties. Ignoring that little fact of seeing so much painted flesh, he notices the distinct smell of burnt wood and swelling under the skin where the breaks were. “What happened to her?”

“Someone set [ name ]’s tattoo shop and apartment on fire. She jumped out of a window to get out.” Dabi is absolutely seething, little sparks of blue flames leaving his nostrils as he lets out tufts of air. “Idiot had no idea how to break her fall and busted her shit. Can you help her?”

“I suppose that would make us even.” The doctor snarks back thoughtlessly, but he can’t help but wonder why you didn’t use your little quirk to save yourself as you had with Eri.

“Good. I’m gonna go find this fucker.” With that, Dabi storms out of the living room and out of the town hall building, leaving Kai with the woman that saved his daughter’s life. At least maybe now, Eri could say thank you like she had been asking to do. He could say thank you.

Chisaki adjusts you on the couch so that you’re entirely flat on the cushions, mindful of the glass that’s embedded in your skin. If anything, he should probably remove those first. With gloved hands, he picks out all the shards he can see with his golden eyes while his mind wanders as he looks at the lines and colors of the tattoos that covered your body. From neck to toe, there was ink on nearly every inch—even the one dragon-snake hybrid on your face that wrapped around your temple and cheekbone. Despite your [ hair color ] locks matting your skin, Overhaul found all of your tattoos rather intriguing to look at; almost as if it weren’t flesh because the contact wasn’t causing him to break out in hives. Like your body told a story without you even needing to speak.

After getting all the glass cleared up, Kai gently pushed on your arms and legs, checking for any signs of bones out of place from where they should be or cushioning and swelling to protect the damaged areas, outside of the very obvious ones that nearly looked like softballs. Two breaks in your femur, four in your ulna from what he could feel—nothing that Overhaul couldn’t fix. Though, he had to make sure that everything had set the way it was supposed to and that you were able to use your limbs after he did the repair. That meant he would actually have to speak to you, and he comes to the realization the two of you never actually had the chance to speak to each other before. Maybe he shouldn’t be as judgmental of the fact that you had a defect—maybe you were like him and abhorrent at the fact that you had a mutation to begin with.

After using his own quirk, Overhaul checks for a pulse on your neck with two fingers, making sure you at least had a heartbeat before patiently waiting for you to regain consciousness. In the meantime, he continues picking out the fragments of glass that escaped his initial sweep—a task made slightly easier when the shards caught the light contrasted the dark lines embedded in your dermis. For a brief second, you stir against his touch before your eyes snap open. “Holy fuck, what happened?” You all but howl when you come to. You let out a deep gasp for breath, suddenly aware of the dull throbbing in your arm and leg as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings.

“Can you tell me if this hurts?” The doctor to your left says evenly, emotionless even, as he holds your wrist between his thumb and middle finger, moving your arm in all sorts of ways. A sharp inhalation sucks in between your teeth as it twists in ways you weren’t sure it could before. A grimace touches his lips underneath is plain, black cloth mask—maybe he didn’t set the bones correctly? Overhaul lays your arm flat, ready to make his adjustments, but as his gloved fingers padded closer, you found yourself retreating further into the depths of the couch cushions.

“I-I’m good,” your words come rushing out, desperate to dodge his touch. Why did you wake up with Overhaul over you? Did he take your quirk away? You’d have to investigate further when you were alone, test it out in private. Ignoring the dull hums of pain coming from your arms and legs, you manage to sit up, slumping over your knees before you realized where you were. “Town hall?”

“Yes. Do you remember anything?” You shake your head—you remember waking up to smelling the smoke in your apartment. You remember the fire creeping up the stairwell and the way orange painted your once tan walls. You remember jumping out the window, but everything else after is met with a blank slate. “You broke your arm and legs in a few places—I reset them with my quirk.”

“Oh,” is all you have to say. “Uh, thank you.”

“Speaking of thank you,” Overhaul palms his knees before pushing off of them from the wooden stool he’s sitting on, standing at his full height and smoothing out his black dress shirt and slightly creased slacks. “My daughter would like to thank you for rescuing her a few weeks back.”

Dammit.

It wasn’t like you could just say no to Eri’s father when it was only the two of you—that would just make you look like an asshole or worse; he could just kill you and say you died in the fire. It was even more difficult to decline considering the young, silver-haired girl was peeking her head from behind a partition, wide-eyed when her dad mentioned her. With your own eyes softening at the sudden contact, you offer an awkward smile that you pray comes off as welcoming. Overhaul beckons her to come closer, holding one hand open until the young girl is tucked underneath his hip.

“U-Um, t-thank you for saving me,” a squeak spills past her dry lips before she runs out of the room as quickly as she came. You didn’t blame her. Even if Overhaul is her father, he gave off an intimidating air that surely would frighten any child. It made you wonder how such a man ran an orphanage. But to your surprise, Eri returned, though this time not alone. A flock of children was accompanying her, each of them with bright eyes and big smiles adorning their unique appearances.

“Thank you for saving our sister!” They chime in unison. The sight made your heart swell and soften, even if only slightly. Eri steps forward cautiously, pushing through her own trepidation as she stands before you and throws herself at you, hugging you tightly with arms around your neck in gratitude. As if triggering a domino effect, a few of the other children felt the need to express the same sentiment. An uncomfortable laugh bubbles past your lips as you awkwardly wrap your arms around the gaggle of kids—you may not like them, but you weren’t that much of an asshole to deny them a hug.

Kai’s typically hard, cold expression mellows at the sight. It’s heartwarming, he gave it that, but a part of him cannot stave off the tiny bubble of envy he feels seeing his children so ready to embrace you when they initially had such a hard time adjusting to life with him. He loved these kids—and it was quite clear you felt the opposite—so why hadn’t they gravitated towards him like they did you? Underneath his mask, he grimaced before internally shaking his head. They were his children, they loved Kai regardless and he knew that. “Alright kids, why don’t you go play and let [ name ] rest? It’s been a rough morning for her.” The use of your name shouldn’t have shocked you, or maybe it was fear that crawled up your spine at the doctor’s endearing tone. You weren’t aware that he knew who you were. The kids let out a collective groan before listening to their father and exiting the living room. As soon as each of their little, youthful heads is out of sight, you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“S-sorry,” you mumble out, suddenly reminding yourself that it was probably rude of you to make a sound as such and you wanted to make sure you did nothing to insult Overhaul to his face. A huge part of you felt that one wrong word out of your mouth meant the end of your quirk or your life.

“It’s alright, I know they can be a handful. Though, they seem to be quite taken with you.” His tone is still rather polite, you notice, and his voice is entirely different than what you’d thought it would be in a one on one interaction. You thought it would be deeper, as whispers and rumors of Chisaki Kai being an incredibly cruel, bitter man painted a different picture in your head. But the man standing before you looked every bit as broken as you felt on the inside—as if a part of him had an empty chasm residing in his chest that could not be filled by the nine children in his care.

“I can’t imagine why,” you reply.

“Neither can I,” he says without skipping a beat, his tone still airy and light. Before you can rebuttal with your quick wit, Dabi storms in with his eyes locked on to your now conscious body. Gesturing with his head, over exaggerating the folds of his damaged skin, he encourages you to follow him downstairs to the mayoral study. Silently, you sauntered off behind him, leaving Overhaul alone in the living room, while you could feel the internal flames burning within Dabi. Pissed didn’t even begin to describe the look on his face.

In the office, photographs of burnt down buildings, rubble, and the skeletal framework of Underground businesses were littered across the large, maple desk. All the while, the leader of the Underground was grumbling to himself repeatedly while tugging at his raven locks in frustration. Not only had someone burned down local businesses in the city, let alone a close friend’s business, but it seemed that someone was attacking his city from the inside. “I wasn’t able to save Tropium.” You offer no response, mostly because there isn’t one to have. You felt anguish over losing your home, sure, but knowing how hard Dabi worked to protect the Underground, you can’t quite imagine how he’s feeling.

Instead, you respond with, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I should be asking you that. Your home is gone, [ name ].” He had a valid point. Perhaps you could find a few local contractors and give them some work—it wasn’t like you didn’t have the money to spare. But that would probably take some time considering, from photo evidence, the place—all of them—was going to need to be built from the ashes. “Stay here while you figure it out. It’s the least I can do.”

“Don’t you already have Overhaul and the kids staying here?” Maybe Dabi didn’t notice the way your voice trembled as you spoke his name, even more so after having woken up to him by your side. But the thought of you, a quirk wielder that kept that little fact hidden from the public, temporarily boarding with a man who was vehemently against the abomination of quirks gave you severe anxiety. Additionally, there was the nine little children that also were a factor and the thought of one of them waking up in your temporary residence and intruding on what little privacy you would have—

“And?” Dabi asks, pulling you from your reverie. “[ name ], I know I don’t say this enough, but you’re one of my closest friends. I don’t feel right not giving you a place to sleep.” His quirk may be Cremation, but Dabi was a master manipulator when it came to pulling at your heartstrings whether or not he was aware of that. You let out a sigh of conceding, knowing you wouldn’t be able to argue your way out of this one.

“One condition, bud,” you hold up a single index finger, the black quill feather tattooed there standing erect, “find me some contractors to help rebuild all the buildings that were burned dow.”

“That’s gonna cost ya,” Dabi hums, as if contemplating. And he was, but rather in estimated cost as opposed to the proposal itself. Physical currency was a rarity in the Underground, as the city ran on a merit and bartering system. Real Surface money was only used for certain occupations. Realistically speaking, he knew money was no object to you considering the wealth, or rather hush money, you acquired from your parents’ death, so there had to be another reason. Knowing you as well as he did, it was probably the fact that the faster your homes were rebuilt, the less time you would have to spend sharing walls with Overhaul. Very smart, the leader mused. “You got a deal, doll.”

You lost count of the days that had gone by since you took over the project of rebuilding the structures that had gone down. While the orphanage project had already begun, you had hired two additional bodies to help the progress go faster so that Dabi could return to his duties without the addition of eleven more mouths to feed. Simultaneously, you had been at your own construction lot from metaphorical sunup to sundown, helping contribute and manage the two men that were hired for your location.

You weren’t avoiding Overhaul, you told Dabi repeatedly when he asked where you’d been all day.

This project was an opportunity for you to set up shop in a reimagined way—to be able to design both your studio space and your living space exactly to your tastes. It had sort of become your baby and you wanted to be as hands on as possible.

You weren’t avoiding Overhaul, you kept telling yourself.

Tropium’s new store front was stunning, albeit a bit ill-fitting with its new modern style in contrast to the Underground’s more rustic, steampunk look. But the charcoal grey stone walls with chunky white trim filled your heart with a sense of pride that your business would hopefully rise from the ashes much like that of the Phoenix tattooed under your bosom.

Currently, you were upstairs with the tiny team of contractors while going over the floor plan of your currently bare apartment. Given the space of the empty building, you managed to enlarge your rooms at the cost of downsizing your entryway and living room. It still felt homey and, with the addition of a small office that served as a spare bedroom, you figured on nights that Dabi hung out and didn’t feel like going home, he had a space too. After laying out the floor plan and going over schematics with the team, you ventured back downstairs to continue sanding down the counters for your studio space.

“So, this is where you’ve been spending your time?” Oxygen freezes in your throat as you’re met with Overhaul’s golden eyes and black mask. Albeit he wasn’t in his normal dress shirt and tie for once, but rather sporting an oversized hoodie and tight denim jeans.

“W-what are you doing here?” Is all you can say back. You aren’t sure if you’re moving or even breathing at this point. The pressure you feel from a man whose face is half-covered is terrifying—liquid gold was dull in comparison to the intimidating eyes of Chisaki Kai.

“Dabi told me about your little deal,” his voice rolls like honey straight from the dripper as he makes small flits toward you that subconsciously leave you retreating back up the stairs one step at time. A deep groan rumbles in his chest when he sees your reaction—not that he blames you in the slightest. Overhaul is more than aware of his notorious reputation both in the real world and in the Underground and is accepting of strangers’ reluctance to be around him. He knows he’s partially to blame for not trying to quell the stigma around him by formally introducing himself prior. maybe not being such a condescending jackass when he first officially met you would have helped as well.

But he can’t squash the little bouts of jealousy that filled him seeing his children flock to you like dragonflies in search of water that almost make him bask in your trepidation.

“Take a walk with me,” Overhaul adds, torn between offering you a gloved hand as a metaphorical olive branch or simply turning around to see if you follow. He opts for the latter merely for the fact that you’re covered in dust and paint from your days’ work. Bounding after him, you stuff your hands into the pockets of your loose overalls as you try to catch up while bearing in mind to keep a short distance between the two of you. The two-block walk is brief and silent as you end up at the construction site of the clinic. Perhaps your memory of the building you never visited beforehand was skewed, but it you were certain it was much larger now. “Feel free to look around. After all, you’re paying for this.” There’s a twinge of malice that paints his invitation that isn’t lost on you, but you decide to forego the welcoming regardless.

Passing through the threshold cautiously, you’re greeted with what looks to be a regular, two story home. The skeletal structure foreshadowed a kitchen, dining room, living space, and a hallway leading to two rooms. One staircase that lead to a basement, one that lead upstairs—it was strange to see the clinic become more of a home than anything else. “Where are you putting the clinic?” You ask meekly, careful not to touch. Just because Overhaul invited you to check out the specs, doesn’t mean he wanted your lingering fingerprints ingrained in his space.

“Basement. I figured it would be better for the children to have majority of the space.” A pregnant pause takes over the conversation once again, leaving you to roam around the new space in appreciation. A part of you was pleased with the work the contractors did for this family, a large part even, but there was a small nagging voice in your head that was still telling you to retreat back to your own project. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” A brief chuckle that is muffled by his mask dances on his lips. He’s not sure which of his theories he wants to start unraveling first. So he starts with the one he believes to be most ludicrous—the conspiracy that you or somebody you worked for was trying to take this children away, or Eri at the very least. If people on the Surface knew about her and her quirk, Kai doesn’t doubt a bounty would be on her head. But truth be told, he knew this seemed unlikely. You had never bothered to even engage with him or anyone else in his family until recently, despite having come to the Underground shortly after its establishment.

“Rescue my daughter, for starters.” Of course he starts with the question you don’t have an answer for. To which you can only respond with the truth—your body moved on your own when you saw the panic in his eyes. Also knowing he had to watch his eight other children and ensure their safety prompted your body to act automatically. “You used your quirk to save Eri, but not yourself. Why?” Your eyes narrow slightly in both suspicion and out of confusion. It was strange that Overhaul kept demanding answers and logic and reason for things you did as a knee jerk reaction. Considering you’d only discovered your quirk just before going to the Underground, it wasn’t exactly what you would call a natural reaction. Plus, weaving through danger for someone else wasn’t as simple as just running in and out of the building as it was to jump out your bay window. Judging by his silence, it seemed he accepted that answer. “And the contractors?”

“I just want all of our lives to go back to normal, including Dabi.” It wasn’t exactly a lie—rather just a short omission of the truth—and it wasn’t like you could tell him that you couldn’t stand living in such close proximity with him due to fear. But Overhaul had a knack for pinpointing a fib like a honeybee in search of something sweet.

“You’re lying,” he bites. You shake your head almost violently, as if the movement will deter your mouth from telling him the truth in its entirety. There was no way you could admit the fear he instilled in your bones or the anxiety you felt standing close enough for him to touch you. Sure, you may have felt that your quirk was less than impressive but that didn’t mean you wanted him to take it away or worse, your life. Knowing that he knew about it too, while the public didn’t which was a requirement for living in the Underground, only reaffirmed your worries. “Do you fear me?” Overhaul asks, making note of the way your fingers were trembling and way your eyes constantly averted his.

“Yes,” your voice comes out as a mere whisper, barely rising above the hammering and drilling of the construction workers. A part of you wished that your admission made you feel better—like it felt like a weight lifting off of your shoulder rather than making it feel like you were denying some greater truth—a part of you just wanted to run and hide and pretend this interaction wasn’t happening.

It shouldn’t have hurt Kai as much as it did to hear you say it out loud, considering you were nothing but a stranger. But you were a stranger that his children were so utterly enamored with and all he wanted was to understand. Yet, the feeling of disappointment is a dull thrum in his chest, long forgotten with a wide array of other emotions and coming only second to his envy. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, though the monotone voice almost sounds insincere.

Perhaps, his jealousy is misplaced, he thinks. His children may be drawn to you, but at least they didn’t tremble or wrack their bones with trepidation the way you do when you see him. If anything, his jealousy is replaced with empathy. Despite your clear distaste for youth, you got along swimmingly with his kids and they clearly wanted to be present with you. It must have been difficult for you to be near them, even more so considering you trembled in their father’s presence. The two of you stand in silence with you looking away pretending to soak in your surroundings of the plastered walls. Overhaul is observing your nervous ticks—the way your twitching fingers are exaggerated by the ink in your skin or the way your knee bounces impatiently along the hardwood.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, come look at my roo—oh! [ name ] is here too!” Bounding down the unfinished staircase was one of the orphans in Overhaul’s care; Shura, if you remembered correctly.

“Just stopped by to see how the place was coming,” you offer in addition to a sheepish wave. Before you know it, Shura is grasping one of your hands with both of his while guiding you up the stairs.

“Come see our rooms, [ name ]!” Overhaul watches with curious eyes at the way one of his sons is so overzealous to include you in their little world. The appeal makes no sense to him—you were just a stranger with skin like a Monet painting that had made little to no effort for these children outside of rescuing Eri and allowing them to shower you in their affection.

Why did acknowledging that their enthusiasm to include you hurt Kai even more so, knowing you were afraid of him?

Trudging behind, Overhaul peers through the open doors upstairs to see each of his kids decorating their freshly painted walls. In Shura’s room, you were sitting on the floor with your arms wrapped around your knees while the little boy explained to you that he wanted his room to be decorated with narwhals. The excitement he had, and the knowledge of even knowing such a creature existed, was quite charming. “[ name ], are you gonna join us for dinner this time? Dabi says you’re always working, but daddy always makes you a plate just in case!” Your eyes glance over to Overhaul and his leisurely pose as he rests one arm on the door jamb. For a moment, your mouth open and closes repeatedly as you try to stutter out some semblance of an answer.

“Just in case,” the doctor adds, as if to add more pressure to his son’s convenient question. The golden orbs you normally deterred from swirled with an intensity that, much to your surprise, didn’t wrack your nerves like they normally did. It was as if they were filled with remorse rather their typical bitterness, maybe sympathy even, imploring you to consider Shura’s inquiry.

“I should go finish my work for today then so I can be home for dinner,” pushing yourself off of the freshly carpeted floor to stand. At some point while Shura was giving you the grand tour of his room, your legs had fallen asleep, causing your first step to hobble and throw you off balance and trip.

“Careful,” Overhaul chimes, bemused at the way you flail to recover from your stumble. To your surprise, he’s pushed himself off the door jamb, crossed through the threshold of Shura’s room, and has his arms locked underneath yours to keep you steady. “Drink some water before going back to work.”

“R-right,” you stutter out, hyper aware that his hands are touching you. He feels the way your tendons bunch together in your arms at the contact, even more so when your pupils lock into his. It untangles one more thread in his theories, one he figures he’ll push on later because it’s a theory just as farfetched as his last one. “I’ll, um, see you at dinner,” the last syllable rises in intonation as you squeak, flitting away and ignoring your numbed legs and blood burned cheeks. Meanwhile, Overhaul chuckles as he watches you scurry away, the blush painting your cheeks burning into his mind just as well. The way you moved was reminiscent of when he had reset your bones and the way you recoiled thereafter. But through thorough observation, he knew that reaction wasn’t fear this time around, no. Fear made you quiet, not nervous or jittery or force your pupils to dilate.

This was something else entirely.

Something else entirely to the point where Chisaki Kai is unsure if he even wants to entertain the possible theory that maybe, maybe, you’re the slightest bit infatuated with him.

“How nice of you to join us,” Dabi sneers teasingly when you set foot into the private entryway of town hall’s attached home. The makeshift family of ten is already seated at the extended dining table, an empty seat awaiting you on Dabi’s left with Overhaul on his right. Each of the children that you had come to be familiar with over the last few weeks had lit up like your presence was a treat—a strange feeling, considering you’d done the most to avoid being in the temporary residence.

“Go wash up, we’ll wait for you,” you had never seen Chisaki Kai without his mask, let alone heard his voice so clear. The angelic lilt rivaled expert fingers rimming crystal glasses, hypnotizing you to do as he said without so much as a fight. Entering your room, you immediately discard your dirty work clothes and shower hastily, scrubbing off flecks of dried paint and dust. In seven minutes and nineteen seconds, you’re out of your en suite bathroom and shucking on leggings and a long sleeve tee before joining everyone else at the dinner table.

To your surprise it felt quite...normal. Was this how families had dinner together? You were unsure, considering your parents had never been one to have the three of you gather together for a meal—they were always too busy working until the day they were killed nearly a decade ago.

It surprised you how natural the flow of conversation was, even with nine children ranging from ages four to seven. Even more to your shock, Dabi was more than willing to indulge the kids in their stories. But the creme de la creme was seeing maskless Overhaul smiling and laughing and attempting to get his kids to eat their vegetables. Was this the real Overhaul? Had his notoriety preceded him so greatly that you feared him for no reason at all? Your intuition tells you no and, perhaps, to some degree it’s right. There was still a dangerous air that encapsulated Chisaki Kai, but it wasn’t one that made you instantly retreat like touching a cake pan you’d recently pulled from the oven with a bare hand. If anything, it was alluring as opposed to intimidating.

The kids were so happy you finally joined them all at dinner. Rapid fire questions from any one or even two of them made you hesitate to answer but you did your best to keep your face even and amused. Children may not have been your favorite, but however the heck Overhaul was raising these ones, especially all nine of them, was truly wonderful. Throughout conversation, Shura and even shy little Eri had scrambled into your lap with each one of them taking a leg while the three of you ate. Initially, Kai had scolded them both, saying they were being rude to which you only shook your head and allowed them to stay, much to his surprise.

After dinner, the children cleared the table. Those that were able of the younger ones brought stacks of dishes to Eri and Shura whom were in the kitchen washing plates and silverware—their duties as the eldest of the nine. Dabi has pardoned himself after thanking the family for the meal to hole himself up in his office. According to the leader of the Underground, the investigative team was still working around the clock to unearth who was responsible for the fires. You had found yourself in the garden of Town Hall, tablet and digital pen in one hand with a cigarette in the other. Drawing was the only leisurely activity you indulged in when not working on rebuilding Tropium.

Typically, Dabi would join on you on these evenings with stacks of papers and a cigar between his lips as he bounced ideas off of you to figure out potential perpetrators. Needless to say, it surprised you when Overhaul enters the makeshift garden that was really just a manmade pond with lily pads and rose bushes aligning the sinkhole. “Hi,” you offer meekly, averting his gaze by keeping your own glued to your tablet screen.

“Hi,” he returns, twisting up a shapely brow at the cigarette between your index and middle finger. For a moment, he’s torn between asking what you’re working on or if you had any ideas to who burned down both of your homes or even how the rebuilding of Tropium was coming along. But he can tell by the way the filter of the cigarette squeezes between your fingers that you’re tense, that you can sense there’s a reason for his presence and decides to forego small talk. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” his voice is small and unsure and drastically different from the Overhaul you were used to. Nonetheless, his statement catches your attention and pulls it away from the screen of your tablet.

“I’m more afraid of what you can do,” you admit quietly, “I don’t want people knowing about my quirk. Dabi was the only one who knew and now your entire family knows and—“ you pause for second, hesitating on whether or not you should continue. But Overhaul was brave enough to tell you had what been bothering him, even if only a minuscule issue, you figure you owe him the same. “And I don’t want you to take it away.” The broken syllables leave your lips bare above a whisper, reaffirming at least one of the theories the doctor had about you. Of all the conspiracies, it made sense that this one was the most likely to explain your reactions to his presence, no matter how much he had hoped it to be some strange, magnetic attraction.

You had bought into the whispers of the Underground that said Chisaki Kai’s life mission was to overhaul the population and remove quirks.

Dejection fills his chest as he lets out a sigh. Maybe this was being too honest, his inner voice argues as it debates on his next words cautiously, but he feels the need to burn clean. “[ name ], what do you know about me?”

“That you were a Yakuza leader and you think quirks are a plague that need to be eradicated.” Overhaul closes his eyes languidly, peeling them back open at a snail’s pace while the warm, golden orbs stare off into the never-ending tunnels of the Underground.

“I became the leader of the Shie Hassaikai when I married my wife at twenty-three and took over for her ill father. It was a quirk marriage, but a happy one, nonetheless. At twenty five, my wife had Eri and while most children’s genetic code didn’t activate the gene for a quirk until a few years later, Eri was born with her quirk activated,” you listen deeply, soaking in every word leaving Overhaul’s maskless lips. His eyes drop down to stare at his gloved hands before burying his face in them for a moment to swallow his guilt quietly. “Eri can rewind time on living things and the first person she used it on—“

“—was her mother,” your voice barely vibrated past your lips as you made the connection. Bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill the contents of your gut not out of disgust, but rather an overwhelming surge of sorrow.

“I lost my wife when I was twenty-five. The rate that she was being rewound at was too much for her body to handle and I had to overhaul my own daughter at birth just to get her quirk to deactivate so she didn’t destroy everyone she touched,” had Chisaki Kai not come to terms with the truth a long time ago, he would have shed at least a single tear recounting these memories he had buried. Either that, or almost hurled recalling the way his wife’s body had imploded until chunks of skin and muscle tissue and blood ended up spewing all over his chest and face. There was a reason he constantly wore gloves and a mask—the smell of cooking carcass and burning meat never left him and the exaggerated mask stuffed with lavender was the only scent that eased him. “I was angry at the world for a long time.”

“I am so sorry, Over—“

“Kai,” he interrupts, “or Chisaki, at the very least. I don’t go by that name anymore.” After a bout of silence, Chisaki continues further. Eri never grew up with a mother or siblings and after things had gone south on the surface, he wanted to raise Eri in a place where people didn’t know the truth about her or the mother she never had the opportunity to meet. So he fled to the Underground with Dabi; he started helping tend to the ill and taking in quirkless children who had lost their parents on the Surface to Heroes.

In a moment of vulnerability, you felt the need to offer the olive branch and share your own story with this man after he bared his soul to you. And so, you tell him about the accident. How, while in pursuit of a villain, the small mom and pop diner that your parents frequented on Friday afternoons was accidentally set on fire by Endeavor and trapped and killed of the patrons inside. You were in your first year of high school at the time—fourteen and preparing for university until you realized you would need to work full time in order to continue paying the bills until the settlement from Endeavor came. University was down the drain. It took years for the dividends to be decided and the lawyer managed to get you a considerably high amount thanks to emotional damages, but riches and wealth would never quell the resentment you held towards the then number two pro Hero for being so reckless. That was nine years ago. Somewhere along the way, you’d met Dabi and he granted you a home and space to continue to hone the craft of tattoo artistry that you had picked up from working part time in a parlor, as recompense for his father killing yours. Though, you’d left that last little tidbit out, unsure if Kai knew of Dabi’s lineage. “I’ve been in the Underground for the last three years, give or take.”

You had always been rather indifferent to the concept of heroism until that day. Even more so when you had met Dabi—a man who was wanted and was supposed to be a villain. Yet he extended warmth and welcoming to you, offering you refuge in a new city he had created for the exiled and wandering.

The grey areas only widen with this conversation with Chisaki Kai. A notorious man, an infamous man, known for causing utter chaos on the Surface both as the leader of the Shie Hassaikai and as a super villain, was sitting across from you and sharing the most intimate moments of his life.

Maybe the concept of heroism was skewed to begin with, you think to yourself as you put out the cigarette in the ashtray in front of you. Maybe Dabi and Overhaul weren’t the real villains—only designed that way because of the way some omniscient creature in the stars that you couldn’t see.

“I remember when you first opened Tropium,” Chisaki hums bemusedly, “the children said you looked like a coloring book.” The only fitting response you have is laughter. Neither of you thought laughter would be something the two of you would indulge in together. But the way your cheeks cinch together at the corner of your eyes or the tufts of air leaving your nostrils in a short snort and the somehow smooth staccato of your chuckle sounds like holiday bells after the first snowfall. It was a peace that Chisaki Kai hadn’t known for some time now. It was a peace he didn’t know he needed, and it makes him wish that his magnetic attraction theory had some truth to it. “Your secret is safe with me,” he says finally after the laughter had died off.

“Thank you, Chisaki,”

You started coming home for dinner every night, figuring the two contractors didn’t need you there to micromanage them, until you stopped dropping into the worksite all together. With a full house, Dabi was out more frequently, preferring to be in the field to investigate the fires as much as he could. This left you with Chisaki and the kids more often than not. On occasion, you would run to the local market with Eri and Shura or had even done arts and crafts with some of the younger ones. As a sort of inside joke, you had bought each of the nine coloring books.

Currently, the kids were playing volleyball in the makeshift garden while you and Chisaki supervised. It was no longer tense between the two of you, a sort of bond forming since that one night. You should have seen the inevitable question coming. Though you more so imagined it would come from Dabi in the form of some snide comment with sexual implications regarding how close you and Overhaul had become. Never did you anticipate his oldest son asking, “[ name ], are you going to be adopting us? Are you going to be our new mom?”

“I-I—“ you were a deer in headlights and the question was a freight truck gunning in at ninety. Looking over at Chisaki for help, who seemed almost unwilling or at the very least unsure on how to, you shake your head before staring back at Shura’s big blue eyes. These children had begun carving a special place in your heart due to how they came to be in Chisaki’s care, sure, but you still had your reservations about kids in general. Not that the doctor blamed you—maternal instincts didn’t necessarily apply to every female. “I-I don’t wanna take you away from daddy, he works so hard to take care of you all and he does such a good job,” for a second, Shura’s expression becomes crestfallen.

“But we all like having you around, [ name ],”

“I’m not going anywhere, buddy, I promise,” the seven-year-old boy promptly wraps his arms around your neck, squeezing tightly as if you were going to dissipate into the air in front of his very eyes. Without hesitation, you hug back briefly before telling him his siblings were waiting for him to start the next set of volleyball. “Was that okay?” You ask quietly, looking over to the doctor. From underneath his mask, you can see the twists of pain coloring the dusty gold hues of his irises and the way his jaw tenses. When he remains quiet, you anxiously reach for an e-cigarette—a fruity one that wouldn’t alert the kids or burn Chisaki’s nostrils from the scent—and pull the tip to your lips. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to Shura, you think as you exhale a large cloud of smoke.

But Overhaul’s stomach is twisting and churning, and he crosses his legs over the knee to squeeze his legs together tightly. He’s thankful for the black cloth mask that covers majority of his facial features as he bites his lip and his nostrils flair while he tries to control his breathing. Think of anything else, his mind snarls. Think of the days in the Shie Hassaikai, think of the children, think of literally anything but the way you called him “daddy” and how the blood rushed from his brain and straight to his dick at an alarming rate. It was so innocent—there was no reason Kai should even be thinking of it in any other way—but primal instincts were taking over, twisting into a delusion in his brain into hearing you repeatedly call him daddy while he fucked you from behind.

“Can you watch the kids?” Chisaki chokes out, standing up abruptly and fleeing inside the temporary home. He doesn’t even have the chance to hear you ask if he’s alright as he’s rushing upstairs to his en suite bathroom. Entering his room, he rips off every shred of fabric covering his body before turning on the shower to the coldest temperature he could tolerate. But there wasn’t enough cold water in the Underground or gruesome thoughts of his wife’s sudden death that could stave off the erection he was currently sporting. “Fuck!” He snarls out viciously, mind running rampant with salacious daydreams. Out of sheer need, Overhaul wraps one hand around his cock, the other bracing himself on the shower wall while the cold water runs down his spine.

Chisaki Kai is livid—raging over the fact that he is reduced to such actions over a simple word that he hears multiple times on a daily basis. It wasn’t that he was abhorrent at the thought of masturbation in the slightest—he was a human with natural human needs, after all—but this desperation that filled his gut and fueled his hard on was less than desirable. But he can’t stop the aching he feels to hold onto that blip of memory of you calling him daddy. He savors it like the first bite of a meal and indulges it in the same way he’s trying to coerce his own orgasm.

Throaty groans and grumbles wrack in Overhaul’s throat as he fists his angry, weeping cock, twisting and turning it as he prays for reprieve. It’s not enough; it’s not your mouth or any other oriface he would rather be shoving into, but the friction rubbing against his veins would have to be enough. He’s far from gracious at this point. Cupping and massaging his balls with one hand while thrusting into his enclosed other at ferocious speeds was all in the name of merely getting off. “Fuck,” he hisses out once again as he feels the very start of his orgasm. As much as his natural instinct is just telling him to sit back and enjoy the ride, his common sense tells him otherwise, tells him that he’s filthy for doing this and he doesn’t deserve to indulge in these thoughts.

But he needs that extra push to satiate his natural instinct.

Succumbing to his deeper, carnal desires, his imagination wanders back to you. With golden eyes screwed shut, he pretends it’s you he thrusting into, that it’s you stringing together languid profanities between your lips; that it’s you begging for daddy to fuck you harder.

That it’s you begging daddy to fill you up and make you into a mother.

“Oh, shit,” Chisaki is gasping for breath as he cums on the shower walls—the last thought to flood his mind serving to break the dam. He licks his lips and swallows hard, his skin becoming dry despite standing in the cold shower. After his ragged, uneven breathing returns to some semblance of normal, he peels his heavy lids open and stares at the fluid coating the shower wall. For a moment, shame washes over him because he feels pathetic and small. But the moment is brief before it was replaced with a dull burn of hunger that may never be quelled.

Pathetic, Kai thinks again as he scrubs his body clean, before exiting the arctic shower. Never before had he been in such a state, even at the ripe age of thirty-two, to masturbate to the mere thought of another person. Perhaps he was that touch-starved, all things considered.

He can’t bring himself to gaze at his reflection as he gets dressed. Adorning grey joggers and a red zip up hoodie, in addition to his usual mask and gloves, he maneuvers his way back to the makeshift garden where the children are still playing with together. But rather than you sitting alone at the patio table as you were, Dabi had joined you in the seat directly across from you.

Both of you were sporting matching cigarettes in your respective hands with matching distressed looks on your faces.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” you say in an almost indifferent tone, a departure from the way Kai had heard you in his mind seconds ago. It was a sentence typically accompanied with some sass, but your eyes were devoid of emotion at the moment. Cautiously, Chisaki took a seat beside you at the patio table, propping an elbow on the armrest closest to you before resting his temple on the same closed fist he had just used to beat himself off. You pay it no mind, how close he is to you, but rather put out your cigarette on the ashtray on the table as a courtesy to him. “Dabi,” your tone is thoughtful as you say your best friend’s name, making a hand gesture that signifies him to speak.

The leader of the Underground opens the manilla folder that was harboring the photos of both of your burnt down homes as well as the two other destroyed businesses. “It’s been a challenging investigation, but after eyewitness accounts and working with local law enforcement from the Surface, I’m pretty sure my bastard brother was behind this shit,” Dabi grits out.

“Brother?” Kai asks, confirming your suspicions of him being unaware of Dabi’s genealogy and family tree. To this, the leader pulls out a mug shot of Todoroki Shouto. The face wasn’t entirely familiar to Kai, save for the small resemblances to Dabi. Same jaw shape, same blue eye with the same dead look.

“Why us?” You ask, flipping the photo over. While it had been awhile since you had resided let alone visited the Surface, you knew that there was some rumors in the air about the start of a war, but what possible reason did Todoroki have for going after the Underground when everyone kept to themselves? For Chisaki, who ran a free clinic, and his children? What about you—why go after you?

Outside of Dabi, hadn’t the Todoroki family tortured you enough?

The city leader takes a deep breath, exhaling smoke as he extinguishes the dead cigarette on the ashtray. According to the patchwork man, Todoroki had confessed that he was selected for a covert mission from the Hero Association. The primary goal was to eradicate any and all quirk wielders within the Underground so they didn’t procreate further, so no overpowered quirks would mutate in the next generation of Underground born children. Overhaul lets out a scoff at the explanation—leave it to the Heroes to act so recklessly and selfishly.

If quirk mutation was the concern, only him and Eri would have been targeted, maybe Dabi as well. Probably Dabi as well. But they burned down Tropium Tattoos, the home of you whom had the legally registered quirk Life Canvas up on the Surface. They burned down a farm whose owner had a quirk that could manipulate light and sunshine—whose farm fed the patrons of the Underground. They burned down the house of the guy who had a weird magnet quirk. It sounds more useless than he actually is—Dabi ended up capitalizing on his manipulation of magnets to create magnetic elevators up to the surface for supply runs and other necessities.

This was about population control.

It was a form of genocide that Overhaul himself was all too familiar with.

“Well that’s fucked,” you sneer, reaching for one more cigarette, “the fuck is wrong with your family, dude, and why are they all trying to kill me and my family?” Chisaki turns his head in curiosity, no longer resting on his knuckles. The only time you had brought up your family, around him at least, was when Endeavor killed your parents—

Oh.

He pretends he doesn’t feel disappointment when he realizes you weren’t implying he and the children were your family.

“Why the hell do you think I left, [ name ]?” Chisaki almost feels as if he shouldn’t be present for this conversation; like it was meant to be private between the two of you. But he can’t bring himself to leave your side, not with the way anger is crinkling in the form of crow’s feet at the corner of your eyes. Dabi excuses himself after a long bout of silence, leaving you to stew in your bitterness while Overhaul directs the kids to wash up for dinner. You don’t realize all nine of them had left the garden until the doctor is standing over you, despite the small wisps of smoke billowing from your cigarette with a hand extended towards you to pull you from the patio chair. You’re sure to extinguish the stick, knowing how the smell often offended him before taking it.

“Why don’t you go rest inside for a minute and wash up while I make dinner?” He offers quietly as he pulls you to your feet. The entire time, Chisaki maintains eye contact, his golden orbs unwilling to break their trance with your form. But thanks to the distress and the rapid pace that your brain is moving, you aren’t even aware of your surroundings or the way Chisaki is just standing in front of you until you’re running into his broad chest. Instinctually, you recoil away from him. Not out of disgust or fear like before, but rather respect, knowing how he is about touch and physical contact.

“Sorry—“ his arms are nestling at your waist to keep you in close proximity and you’re suddenly reminded of the time your legs fell asleep at the orphanage and you had stumbled trying to walk. Chisaki had been there then too, holding you steady much like he was now. There was something drastically different to the scenario now compared to back then. The doctor didn’t shy away from the contact anymore, didn’t draw his hands back like he touched a freshly stoked lump of coal or break out into itchy hives. If anything, his gloved hands lingered just a little bit longer—too long even for Chisaki—before gingerly patting your head and retreating inside the home.

And maybe if you weren’t trying to process the fact that the Surface was attempting to start a war with the Underground, you would have dwelled more on the warmth and security coming from Kai. The poise he held coupled with the fire and desire in his eye would have been enough to reassure that everything was going to be alright.

Dabi never came back that night. Rather than leaving his head seat at the dining table empty, Chisaki sat to your left with his daughter filling his space temporarily. You sat directly across from Eri, the girl who was once too timid to thank you now smiled brightly every time you looked at her. Other than your best friend’s absence, dinner was relatively average. Conversation went on as normal, sharing laughter and smiles between all of you—it was a nice delusion that for a moment, you were all a complete family and you weren’t so enrapt with the heartbreak of knowing these ten humans were targets to the surface.

The children cleared the table as they always did, but rather than having the two oldest do the dishes, you offered to clean up instead. “Why don’t you kids gather up in the living room and have daddy put on a movie for you?” Clearly excited from the reprieve of duty, the orphans all head off, touting something along the lines of Frozen versus Tangled. But your back is already turned away from the family, getting started on putting away leftovers and scraping away scraps on plates and entirely missing the way Kai’s eyes drain from gold to a murky mustard. It misses the way his jaw clenches tightly as he settles the debate for his children, turning on Tangled—the clearly more superior film—before he returns to the kitchen.

The sleeves of your ragline tee are pushed above your elbows as you hum an unknown hymn, unaware of Kai stepping cautiously toward you. Despite having just eaten, the doctor is filled with a renewed hunger entirely as his grip finds limp purchase on your hips much like they had before dinner. “You know, I think we need to have a talk about you calling me ‘daddy’ in front of the children,” he murmurs hotly against the shell of your ear, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. Your blood is torn between running cold from the predatory drawl in his words and boiling from the sudden close contact.

“I-I’m sorry, should I stop?” Kai licks his lips before running his teeth behind your ear and down your neck, suckling on the flesh as he mumbles a response.

“Do you want to?” You contemplate his question in full, though it proves to be a challenge with the way he’s pressing warm, open mouth kisses to your neck and shoulder and the way his hands are kneading at your hips. “Are you afraid of me, sweetheart?” He asks again, his voice a low grumble yet somehow is louder than thunder as it isn’t hidden behind a mask. Had this been months ago when he had asked you an identical question when you were perusing the reconstruction of the orphanage, you would have said yes again. But this wasn’t fear—fear wasn’t a word you associated with Chisaki Kai anymore.

Warmth. Strength. Dedication. Resolve.

Love.

Those were the words you associated with him now.

“No,” you finally respond, shutting off the water before turning to face him. It was a rare, momentous occasion when you got to gaze upon his bare face outside of having meals together. His golden eyes swirl with elation, even more so as your painted fingers brush stray locks that fallen just over his brows. Despite a rather simple appearance, especially in comparison to yours, there’s something elegantly charming about Chisaki Kai that had never gotten the full appreciation he deserved.

Tentatively, you nudge him closer to you from the back of his neck until your lips are pressed against his. For you, it’s an experiment just to feel him in such a manner. For Kai, it’s torture in every sense of the word because it’s a tease after all of the salacious thoughts that have marred his imagination. Taking a leap of faith, his arms tighten around your waist, pulling your body flush against his because right now there isn’t enough contact in the world that would satisfy him.

The once delicate, experimental kiss becomes hungrier at his hand as he’s exploring your mouth with tongue, groaning as he does so. The scent of smoke and fresh cotton wafts into his nostrils between his sharp intakes of breath as he refuses to break contact. It’s as if he’s trying to commit the moment to memory, to burn it into his brain.

As if this was never going to happen ever again.

“Kai,” you whimper out his name, his true name, between pants of breathlessness for the first time. Just as gingerly as before, your fingers are cradling the man before you by the temples. You’re gazing at him fully, unabashedly, as you run a thumb just below his distinct lower lashes. Chisaki’s head dips a bit further into your brief touch before you skip away from him.

“Wait, where do you think you’re going?”

“Come on, let’s go watch the movie with the kids,” you chime, holding a hand out to him as if he didn’t just have you all but pinned to the kitchen sink.

“I was serious when I said we needed to have a talk.” Despite his verbal protest, he takes your hand in his, trailing behind as you saunter off towards the living room where the children are fully invested in the film. Plopping down on an empty space on the couch, you bring Kai with you until he’s nearly resting on top of you. For a moment, he releases your hand, opting to wrap an arm around you to pull you closer. “Back to avoiding me, angel?” The doctor grumbles into your ear, low enough so as not to alert the little ones.

“Figured it would be better to not risk being interrupted,” you whisper back, smirk twisting your lips. Chisaki’s licks his own dry plains, tugging you even closer so that you’re sitting on one of his thighs instead. That predatory miasma that surrounds him on a day to day basis is seeping out of him tenfold, but intimidation when it came to Kai was now a foreign concept to you. It brought back that same seductively dangerous feeling you’d felt the first time you had dinner with the family or, thinking back further, to when you went to scope out the renovations. A part of you wonders if that fear you once had was displaced as soon as you knew he was going to keep your quirk a secret. Displaced with an attraction to him that was easily confused with fear.

A part of you wonders if you ever really did fear him at all.

Maybe you didn’t.

Your mindless thoughts wander to anything other than the screen, casually leaning back so that your head settled on Kai’s clavicle. The doctor looks down at you with a curiosity that is replaced with a warmth that temporarily quelled his lust. As much as he had been fighting his day dreams of fucking you, having you in his arms surrounded by his kids stoked a different fire inside him.

He didn’t want this domestic moment to end.

He hopes that desire translates into the simple gesture of his lips pressing into your hair.

Chisaki Kai was finally caving into his wants and being honest with himself. He doesn’t want this makeshift family to go back to normal when you finally returned to Tropium or when his family returns to the Underground clinic. There isn’t a single cell in his body that believes having you in his lap and curled into his chest feels anything other than right. He’s overwhelmed with the idea, the fantasy, of you moving in and being with the family. Your family—in the collective sense—with Kai by your side with your nine orphans.

During the lantern scene of the film, he presses another kiss where the roots of your hair meet your forehead, lips lingering a little longer than normal. In response, you look up at him curiously to find his muted golden eyes staring right at you. There was a plethora of different things that Chisaki wanted to say to you, especially with the way you look so heavenly in his arms. But he settles with the murmur of, “I don’t want things to go back to normal.”

“Neither do I,” you whisper, gracefully accepting the way Kai’s lips mould over yours almost lovingly. In a sense, it’s your way of finally admitting to yourself the feelings that worked and wriggled their way into your chest. The thought of returning to your lonely little two-bedroom apartment by yourself just seemed daunting now, despite the initial rush to get to work on the remodel. No more waking up to bright eyes at the table for breakfast or coloring with the kids; no more having Kai cook a delectable meal or having him accompany you in the garden for a smoke. It broke your heart just thinking about all you would be missing out on when life returned to somewhat normal, war aside.

The doctor sucks gingerly on your lower lip, nipping slightly with his canines as his tongue wholeheartedly dances with yours. The kiss is full of longing and desire and it made his brain go fuzzy with strange thoughts. A part of him can’t remember ever feeling this recurring surge of wanton lust and infatuation when Kai would kiss his wife and, in regular circumstances, he would have felt guilt over it. But this warm, wet entanglement of your tongues is more loving than he was accustomed to and it excited him. Than you were even accustomed to.

“So stay with me, sweetheart,” the nickname he’s given you sounds almost patronizing. But the admiration that seems to be laced in with it sends a shiver down your spine and leaves the hairs on your arms standing at full attention as the film comes to an end. “Time for bed, children. We’ll be by in a little bit to check on you,” Chisaki calls out to his protesting kids, though making no motion to move from his planted position on the sofa. When he’s certain that all nine of them are out of earshot, he adjusts you in his lap so that both of your legs are draped over his thighs. You call out his name, pulling him from his thoughts that take him far away from the present.

“You said you wanted to talk,” you remind him. A part of you is afraid to start conversation because you aren’t sure what direction he wants to take this. Chisaki could have an entirely different meaning of returning to normal than you, but for you...

You didn’t want to wake up every morning without him being nearby. In the rawest form, that was the only way you could piece it together into a coherent thought. But even more than that, you felt as if there was so much more you wanted to see from Chisaki Kai. He was becoming more open with touch, no longer breaking out into hives when he touched others and even going so far as to hold you, albeit very languidly as he was now. Another part of you wanted to know if he would be beside you when it came to the impending war with the Surface.

Mostly, you just wanted to know if he wanted to be by your side too, even if logic wanted to tell you this was a bad idea.

“Will you stay? With me?” Kai implores quietly. His eyes are locked with yours, the gold shining brighter than ever.

“You say this after I renovate our homes?” A short, lighthearted scoff leaves his lung in lieu of laughter at your attempt of a joke. Because, despite him echoing your own deeper, innermost thoughts, a part of you refused to believe this was reality. As if reality was actually playing a prank on you.

Of course he had thought of that little fact. It was the longing desire he felt in his bones to have your presence that he hadn’t taken into account, but that need burning at the pit of his stomach had outweighed any semblance of logic that urged him to keep his thoughts to himself.

“The kids will grow up eventually and need their own space away from the orphanage. We could always save it for them.”

Answers you were expecting from Chisaki Kai: not that.

Had he invested that much into the idea? To the point where he planned on you still being a part of the orphan’s lives until they were adults?

“‘We’?” You ask. “And what if “we” don’t work, have you considered that?”

“No,” Kai’s voice is clear and calm as ever, exuding the very confidence that once made you tremble, “I want you in every sense of the word. I’ve already said my vows and had my shot at forever. I want that sort of permanence with you and I know that some part of you wants me too.” At a loss for words, you opt to brush the backs of your nails along his cheeks endearingly, trailing them down until your hands find purchase around his neck to bring him close enough that you can feel his lashes tickle your cheekbones. The silence between the two of you was deafening and damning, yet welcoming as it’s broken with him pressing his lips fully against yours.

For a moment, it feels as if the hunger stirring within his gut is satiated—satisfied with the even the tender, loving gesture of pulling you closer still until you’re straddling his lap. As if you were trying to fuse your bodies together because there was no such thing as too much physical contact right now. Kai encircles your waist with his arms, hoisting you up as he motions to stand and causing you to wrap your legs around his midsection. You don’t ask where you’re going; partially because your tongue is too busy just indulging in a private dance with his, partially because it doesn’t matter where he takes you. You’d go with him anywhere, no questions asked.

It’s a challenge and a half maneuvering up the stairs with you anchored around him so tightly—even more so that with every step he took ended up grinding your pelvis along his ever-growing erection. Kai felt liberated this time around, shamelessly rubbing against you this time rather than scurrying off for a cold shower and a five-minute session with his hand. Your eyes open as he unceremoniously tosses you onto the plush blanket of your borrowed bed. Immediately, you’re greeted with the sight of Chisaki Kai hastily shredding off his tee shirt and lounge pants, leaving the doctor in strained boxer briefs.

Briefly, you’re blown away by the sheer beauty of him—like a statue of Adonis come to fruition before your eyes. Even with the uncomfortable twinge in his golden orbs from your unnerving gaze. It was different, to say the least, to have you gawking at him with such adoration when he felt he was the only one doing so. “C’mere,” your voice comes out as a near broken whimper, a call to which Kai heeds graciously. The bed dips as he kneels at the edge, crawling closer until he’s hovering above you. Gingerly, your fingers trace over the smooth skin of his cheeks, tracing down his lips and neck until they ghost over his collarbones.

“Sweetheart,” Kai groans out, snatching your hand in his as it continues to trail further down his bare skin. “As much as I want to bask in the romance of all of this, you called me ‘daddy’ earlier, and I think it’s time you suffer the consequences.”

“Yeah?” You sneer sardonically, pushing into your elbows until you’re both touching nose to nose. “Like it when I call you that?” His breath is hot as it fans over your features, the wanton lust tangled within the golden hues of his irises becoming overwhelmed with feral desire. Kai’s hand that isn’t supporting him over you grips tightly at your baggy tee, pulling harshly to tear at the fabric keeping your bare body from him. For a moment, his breath becomes caged in his chest upon seeing your semi-nude form for the first time. But the moment is flitting as he’s reminded of his aching, hard cock twitching underneath his undergarments.

“Hands and knees, baby,” the slow, torturous movement you give in reply grates at Kai’s nerves, prompting a resounding smack to the ass of your joggers the moment your bottom is visible to him. “Daddy’s already impatient, dear,”

“And what’s Daddy going to do about that?”

Similar to the treatment he gave your shirt earlier, Kai dug his fingers into the waistband of your joggers. Though he did not have nearly as much luck tearing off the thicker material, the gruff motion is enough to expose you, leaving your bare, pulsing core in plain sight while the cloth gathered at your knees. His chest presses against your back, his skin searing hotter than hellfire, as he places languid kisses along your shoulder. “I promise, I’ll spoil you with attention later. But right now, I need you,” his voice is something reminiscent of begging, only amplified by his suddenly bare cock dancing along your slit and smearing pre-cum along it before cautiously slipping the head in.

Throaty groans leave both of your lungs simultaneously. Kai swears up and down that this was heaven manifested into reality. Part of him thinks this is all a dream, the way your walls are squeezing him to tightly as he pushes in centimeter by centimeter. “K-Kai,” you whimper. The calling of his name awakens something gutturally primal within him.

“Uh uh,” the doctor tuts, ceasing his movements. “What’s my name, baby?” In lieu of a response, only pants of shortened breath escape your slackened jaw. There was no way Chisaki Kai was human, you decided. Not with the way his words sent every cell in your body into overdrive or the way his fat girth stretched you so deliciously without even entirely plunging his engorged cock. Not with how, despite his notoriety once proceeding him, he was often blatantly honest with you and certainly not with how utterly enamored he was with you and vice versa. “Say my name, baby, and I’ll give you a reward,”

“D-daddy, please,” you whisper in between breaths. Abiding by his word, Kai works his thick length into you, albeit still slowly, until your bones presses into his pubis and his whole cock carefully bottoms out inside you. His right hand trails up your tummy and dances along the skin of your sternum until his fingers encase your throat gingerly. Keeping still within you, the doctor tugs at your throat until you’re only resting on your spread knees as his lips ghost along the outer shell of your ear while he gives slow, deep, steady thrusts.

“You like having daddy’s fat fucking cock in you, angel? Feel so fucking good around me, yes you do,”

A real poet, Kai was.

Turning your head to face him, your fingers lace themselves in his messy locks and pull his lips to yours in a kiss that is entirely devoid of lust. He can bring the heat all he wants—it was your mission to make sure he understood that you wanted him in more than just sex. Even if the slow torturous withdrawing of his cock was absolutely divine.

And he felt it too. Even with his hand delicately cupping your throat or the way his pelvis greets your plump ass with every thrust or the way your wet walls clench on him as if trying to expel his cock from inside of you. Kai can feel it in the way your nails are digging into the flesh of his arms or in the tufts of breath that leaves your nostrils because he leaves you absolutely breathless. He feels the love, and he wants to bask in it.

Now that he’d quelled his hunger slightly, Chisaki pulls away from your endearing lip lock while simultaneously withdrawing his length from you. A small whimper leaves your lips at the loss before Kai turns you over, pressing your back against the mattress and sliding home once again. The passion and intimacy he feels is overwhelming, boiling his skin through every pore as he bears weight on one arm while the other caresses your cheek. “I meant it, you know,” the murmur dances like air along your own lips, warm breath inviting. “I want you in every possible way. I want to wake up next to you in the morning, experience every season that doesn’t pass for us in the Underground with you.”

“Kai...” in return, you seal you mouth along his, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer and coaxing him to move. Slow and steady, he withdraws himself from within you before snapping his hips once again until he’s fully sheathed. Each thrust feels like thunder. “M-more,” you choke out, breaking apart your kiss momentarily to beg. His focus shifts down to where you’re connected—where each vein of his throbbing erection greets and becomes acclimated for every crevice within your cavern. Angling his hips along with your own with the assistance of his hand, he manages to welcome that spongy weakness that makes your knees buckle and regurgitate a scream in response.

“Right there, princess?”

“P-please!” The hand under the small of your back moves to hook around your knee, it’s twin mimicking the gesture and leaving you entirely at the mercy of Overhaul whose mission at the moment is to rearrange your insides in an entirely different sense. Pinning your knees to the bed, Kai is at the perfect angle to ram into your g-spot over and over at a rapid, even pace until you’re clenching around him deliciously, silently coercing his orgasm. “Oh my fucking god,”

“Mm, you’re so tight, baby. Ya gonna cum? Gonna cum nice and hard for me? Cum for daddy,” his words are almost enough—almost. And it was as if he knew the filthy, slopping sound of his cock reaming you wasn’t enough. Though whether enough for you or him remained a mystery, his thrusts are becoming erratic as he’s panting and grunting an unabashedly as he chases his release and oxygen. “I love you,” Kai’s voice is broken, “love you so much, just wanna fill you up over and over until your body only knows the taste of me.” And you aren’t sure if it’s his nasty, vile words or the way he is utterly knocking away at your g-spot that is causing you to convulse around him—that brings you over the final hurdle and over the dam. Screams rip past your lungs as your back arches as much as it can from it’s confines while your fingers twitch out of necessity to grip something—anything.

You’re granted no reprieve in that regard, but it matters not with the way Kai is still smacking his hips into yours, dragging out your orgasm even longer while in pursuit for his own. There is no amount of physical contact in this moment that is enough for him, even as he slats his lips over yours and slides his tongue inside your mouth to greet yours. Hips beginning to stutter, Kai is fighting every fiber in his soul—torn between the dichotomy of wanting to cum and stave off his orgasm because he wants to feel the welcoming, convulsing walls of your pussy forever. And though you’d already came at least once, the pressure was building again rapidly from the stimulation of the uneven rhythm of Kai’s hips. Part of you is thankful his tongue is hungrily dancing with yours to keep your screams muted so as not to wake the children down the hall. But the rumbling in his chest from his own throaty groans become overwhelming, forcing him to break away to and let his grunts and slew of curses fly from his mouth freely.

“I love you, Kai,” the moans are just as bad coming from you, but those four words coming from your lips are what do the aforementioned man in. And he can tell there is no lie dripping from a silver tongue here—you mean every ounce of these four little words. For everything that is Chisaki Kai—the former Yakuza leader, the former villain, the doctor, the father—you loved the man before you.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he wails, the rhythm of his cock head tamping against your womb matching the pacing of his broken speech, “daddy’s gonna cum so fucking deep in you, gonna make you mine forever, angel.” Another hissed out string of profanities pass through as his dick twitches almost violently, shooting out ropes of seed and painting your walls white. You can tell he meant what he said, even in his lustful spew, by the way he leaves his softening erection inside of your spasming cunt and sealing his emission inside until he was almost certain his claim held permanence.

“I meant it too,” you mumble into Kai’s sweaty neck as he collapses on top of you. Though he’s boneless at the moment, having spent all of his energy, you feel the breath of his questioning grunt beside your ear before his face is attempting to look at you while half buried in your pillow. Gingerly, he removes his now flaccid member from you, adjusting himself so that his form molds around you and wraps his arm securely around your stomach.

“You know,” Kai starts off slowly. The rich timber of his voice is thick with exhaust but is warm and welcoming all the same. “I was jealous before.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“My children love you—a woman who was nothing but a stranger who doesn’t even like kids. They warmed up to you so easily, much easier than they did with me,” there’s a brief pause between his statements, causing you to adjust under his grasp until you’re touching nose to nose with the doctor. His eyes are closed for a moment, his long and feathery lashes greeting the tops of his delicate cheekbones. “So I tried to understand. Tried to figure just why they gravitated towards you.”

“And what did you find?” Peeling back his eyelids, Kai’s rich amber eyes bore into your own. Irises swirling with admiration before the view is flooded with a sudden closeness and the press of his plush lips against yours in the most loving fashion.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how to answer.

He had found determination and independence, qualities of a strong woman that his daughters looked up to. Free and proud and brave, he thinks, are the reasons his sons admired you. But there’s something more. There’s a love and warmth that you bring to the family, yet a sternness that doesn’t allow them to run rampant (not that they would under Overhaul’s upbringings) that spoke so motherly to each of his nine children. And somewhere along the way for the last six months that the Clinic had been under remodel, Kai found himself gravitating to all of those exact qualities in you, the envy transforming into an admiration of his own. It was an error in his initial magnetic attraction conspiracy theory; he thought that your fear had changed to attraction when it was his all along.

But Kai’s not always the greatest with words, and the thought of spilling his deepest thoughts of you seems a daunting task that he’d rather replace with kissing you instead. Considering you asked a question, however, he did feel the need to respond with something—anything.

“I found you.”

“Honey, I can still help, you know,” you whine for the umpteenth time, folding your arms over your chest as you stand in the mayoral office of Dabi with your partner. It’s been a year since Todoroki Shouto had burned down Tropium Tattoos and the Underground Clinic and tonight was finally the night that the Underground had planned on mobilizing their forces. It had taken a full year of investigating, planning, building alliances with those on the Surface, and patience for the citizens to finally strike back.

Enough was enough.

All of you had been exiled at one point or another, but now the Surface was trying to exterminate all of you.

“Angel, no,” Kai chides sternly, igniting the twitch on the leader’s face. Granted it had been six months since you and Kai had first declared this little relationship of yours and, as your best friend, Dabi was still slightly hesitant on the idea. Not that his opinion had much weight considering—

“Kai, I am only three months along. I can still fight!”

“Hell no,”

“Absolutely not,” both men snark simultaneously. Best friend or not, personal opinion aside, there was no way in the ninth circle of hell that Dabi was going to let you go to war while you were pregnant. And with Kai being the father, the chances of you getting your way in this moment with him were even slimmer. The doctor pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his black cloth mask with his thumb and middle finger before letting out an annoyed rift of air. “Dabi, I’m gonna take [ name ] home before we go over invasion plans. Do you mind?”

“Nah,” the leader waves his purple and nude hands in dismissal, “besides, we should wait for Hawks to get here before we start all that.” With that, Kai grabs your wrist with his gloved hand and drags you away from the office. He knows you want to fight, and he knows you want to protect your family—all eleven with himself and the embryo included. But as a father with another—biological—one on the way, Chisaki Kai just can’t bring himself to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way.

“Sweetheart,” he calls out, stopping just outside of the currently closed Tropium. The grey and white building looked crisp and clean and everything you wanted it to be but you often found yourself closing up shop early and coming in late to spend more time with your nine children at home. At the very least, you were grateful that your parlor was only a block or two away from the clinic. “I need you here where you can keep our children safe in case anyone slips through the cracks.” Even with his mask on, you can tell that Kai is trembling ever so slightly. The thought of someone making their way into his home and hurting his kids, hurting you, was enough to unleash the beast within.

“I know,” you respond quietly. Using his grip on you to your advantage, you pull the doctor towards you until he’s towering over you and looking down directly into your eyes. “But you know me, always ready to jump headfirst into the fire,” his amber eyes soften, thinking back to a year ago when you had saved Eri from the burning clinic. To think that a year later, you would be living with him and carrying his child and occupying nearly every cell in his brain.

“It’s your turn to watch the kids,” he jokes pulling down his mask below his chin to slat his lips over yours lovingly. It’s only half a joke—he knows better than anyone you would do anything to protect them. He’s known that since day one.

“You better come back to us,” your demand is quiet and breathless and laced more with concern than it is with threat. The thought of Kai dying while on the Surface has plagued you for the last six months, even more so when you found out you were pregnant. He knew it too, knew how much worry and panic had disturbed your sleep when the realization that war was an option had settled in. Despite the knowledge that he carried about different afflictions and ailments; Kai had been at a loss for how to quell your anxiety. He hopes that circumstances aside, him reaching into the right-side pocket of his heavy, army green coat and pulling out the small black velvet box is the correct move. Gingerly holding up said box until it’s in your line of sight, he takes a step back before peeling back the lid to showcase a single, solitaire diamond set in a simple gold band.

“I promise you I will come back. And when this is all over, we can finally enjoy our life in peace, so long as you’ll have me.”

159 notes · View notes

olde-scratch · 4 years ago

Text

So I watched LUCIDS 1-4 without any prior knowledge...

and here were my thoughts. I didn’t watch any backstory or anything so enjoy my suffering.

PART 1

“So what happens when the people inside of their dreams go to sleep?” They die

“What happens when we wake up? Do they go on living while we’re not there?” THEY DIE-

“Who are they anyway?” they’re faces that our brain catalogs and stores for later use, although it’s also arguable that every time we dream we go to an alternate reality and inhabit the body of another version of ourselves. Now, were you in a car accident and trapped underwater or-

Are they twins?

(Me tuning out to do something)

“-the squirrel in spongebob was your soulmate, making you a Sandy simp-”

Me, snapping back to the video: hold up-

[missed the part about the worksheet, realized it when i rewatched 10 mins later to make this post]

yall speakin gibberish idk what youre saying-

“I’m gonna go to bed.” bro it literally looks like morning-

“You should get some sleep you look terrible.” i get six hours of sleep a night minimum and i look worse than him shut up bro-

“jump into someone else’s dream” ah i know this con-

why they all got the same face-

haha funni meme

“--an interruptiion can create feedback and tear them apart.” Death. I long for thee.

Is that Karl Jacob’s jacket?

“a second grader” makes me think this is a different school system. [i was wrong? i think?]

“[get him to] eat your apple”

[in the dream sequence] weird dream, but ive had weirder. now, Why Pamper’s-

why does he suddenly have a knife-

“You put a filter on the Dreamscape feed?”

“Technically, you are seven years old.”

???????????

the second hand embarrassment is UGGGHHH

[reading the description] you mean like the guy who was knocked out for 2 minutes on a football field and woke to find he’d dreamt 17 years of his life? oh this shall be Fun

PART 2

[I check the description] “jasper cult” what the fu-

how many camp camp references can i make during this

Is the apple a reference to religion or does the creator just really ilke apples?

“meal.”

“meal?”

meal????

Wait why couldn’t that guy eat the apple? If he wanted it in the fruit bowl, wouldn’t there be a chance of the guy eating it anyways?? Why can’t the guy who brought the apple eat it?

well he’s Dead

[debating if I should read the backstory}

n a h h h h h -

Was he gonna feed the dead guy the apple or something? Why is he upset about the apple in this scene???

oooo the grownups are fightinnnngggg

Is he an antagonist?

HE WROTE A BOOK???

oh now i want food

ESTABLISH JUSTICE ENSURE DOMESTIC TRANQUILITYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“I watched all those aforementioned shows” what shows did i miss something what-

man why you gotta hate on her jane austen fanfic let her live bro

string theory! i can get behind that! sorta-

o no he found the memes-

BOY GOT KNOCKED OUT-

kim there’s people that are dying-

is SHE an antagonist?

quinn? calling himself jasper? u sure hes not just nonbinary? is this just a metaphor for transphobic parenting?

“He died... but somewhere, he grew up.” So is your plan to take a Quinn from a different universe and make him your own, thereby robbing another version of yourself from happiness? When does this ever go well?

Yknow most people, when they lose a kid,,,, kinda,,,,,,, dont go on a ceaseless quest to find another version of their kid that grew up without knowing that another version of his mother was invading other peoples’ dreams to find and kidnap him,,,,,,,, like aint u got a therapist-

“Once you get past the point of not knowing what’s real anymore, you realize it doesn’t matter.” Well, I Got Called Out-

PART 3

“you’re real, oliver.”

aRe yOu sUrE aBoUt tHaT-

“you’ve been infected by the anti-love parasite of Mandadon” the amatonormativity is strong

so anyways ive been infected since birth hbu-

“James Jasperson, creator of Japple” did you mean to Fancy Well-Educated Man in a Black Turtleneck? cause the only FWEMBT i allow near me is prof. hidgens

“are you winning?” says the capitalist

why did you rewind to see his face?? you have the same face????? is this just bc the creator doesnt like working with other people cause in that case same but???????

“it’s a bad idea. i’m not gonna do it.” we’ve all been there. and we’ve all done it.

looks like me trying to study. (i say, a person who has studied a total of five minutes throughout their entire life.)

your “Spartan trial” looks like a bunch of guys standing on a hill pretending to be something they’re not. Let The Man Bring His Snacks.

eat the apple.

is this your first existential crisis or something what a loser lets all point and laugh

“One of you should be spared, the other shall’nt.” did you mean shant or was that a choice-

yall gonna get called out for talking shut UP

“sorry if this is too personal, btw. are you okay?”

me, confused and half understanding what’s going on and also needing to sleep cause its almost one in the morning but wanting to finish what i can find of lucids which i only starting watching cause i saw an animatic of ranboo and dream w audio from it: i don’t know anymore

“i just want my life back... i was gonna get married-” AREN’T YOU LIKE SEVEN-

ay man if this is a sacrificial cult yall gotta get daniel-

UPDATE: I H A V E N O T F O U N D I T -

“oliver”

I F O U N D I T -

WHICH ONE IS QUINN?? WHO’S JASPER???? WHICH ONE IS BENJAMIN???? I THOUGH BENJAMIN WAS SEVEN BUT I THOUGHT HE WAS THE ONE GETTING MARRIED WHAT-

oliver. eat the apple.

“Can you still have memories even when you’re dreaming?” One time I woke up to my alarm and fell back asleep and in my dream I remembered that I had class in a few minutes and my dream self woke my real self up so fast I thought I was gonna get whiplash. Anyways, I was late to class bc of my computer but that doesn’t matter.

NOPE I FOUND IT. HERE’S THE AUDIO. THE ANIMATIC ONE. FINALLY.

im thinking car crash. but also maybe murder. but also maybe both? is it raining or was he drowning? is he in a coma? hmmmmmm?

wait olivers the one with the apple does that mean he’s the one dreaming? is the ending gonna be him and jasper (quinn? idk) fighting against ben and mrs hills about jasper eating the apple to save oliver from the dream? hmmmmmmmmmm-

waitwaitwait i thought oliver was 7 how is benjamin 7 years younger than him if they look the same age what what what explain america explain what you mean arkansaw-

are the cuts on his nose plot-relevant or

“What if you hadn’t been driving?” So I was right about the car accident but Mrs. Hills still said he was seven so did i mishear her say that BENJAMIN was seven? but even then oliver would be 14 and that would still be illegal-

“How are you feeling?”

“Like you’re a pretty bad therapist.”

mood

“--it makes it all bearable to have power over the stories we write in our heads” that’s why i write fanfiction

HE’S GOT THE NOTEBOOK HE’S GONNA WRITE SOMETHING ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US

WHAT YOU MEAN AN EXPERIMENT THAT’S HIS NAME-

[upon reading the description] so i was right.

wait was that supposed to be the twist in part 2 about the apple in his pocket is that what the existential crisis was about i thought it was because he was introduced to the multiple worlds theory-

PART 4

wait wasnt the other one january 2018 why we going back to 2017-

appol

“--the future and the past all already exist” mhm yep figured this out long ago

there was simultaneously a point in time in which i hadn’t known about this, had been looking it up, had been watching it, and had been writing an ending to this post, and had been posting it the next morning before class. that time is both now and not now. Welcome To The Multiverse Theory or whatever its called-

“--my favorite scene of the movie is waking up next to you.” Mine is eating fast food as I listen to AJJ and play Minecraft. We are not the same.

Now I’m hungry but it’s 1 in the morning and i already put my retainer in god fu-

[reading description] what do you mean previously??? she did that in the first episode????????

[still on description] WHAT DO YOU MEAN WILL QUINN BITE THE APPLE AND GO TO BENJAMINS REALITY ISNT THIS OLIVERS REALITY AND HE HAS TO GET BEN TO BITE THE APPLE WHY IS APPLE CAPITALIZED IS THIS THE DOING OF THE FWEMBT

i should have watched the backstory i should have watched the backstory i should have watched the backstory i should have wa-

[description] oh ive been spelling quinn right the whole time nice

i hope she rejects you /j

WAIT BENJAMIN WAS THE ONE GETTING MARRIED TO ISABELLE

ISNT HE IN SECOND GRADE-

HE IS SEVEN YEARS OLD HOW IS HE GETTING MARRIED ARE THERE TWO BENJAMINS THAT WE’RE FOCUSING ON-

bro get out of the road ull get hit

how do you knOW WHICH ONE IS QUINN THEY ARE THE SAME PERSON-

wait

hills wants ben to feed quinn the apple bc in his mind, that will give hills and quinn a happy ending and she doesnt want ben to see the apple bc thats gonna mean ben will know that his reality isnt reality at all. so then oliver has to,,,, not let anyone eat his apple? he just has to wake up?

IS HILLS THE VILLAIN AFTER ALL ORRRRR

wait but if ben sees the apple wont he realize that his reality is wrong and his reality will change, making it so that hills doesnt get her son? or is there some time-based rule that says they’re only transported to the reality that the person believes at that moment? or is this another stab at the multiverse thing where an infinite amount of hills gets their happy endings while an infinite amount of hills doesnt and etc etc?

i should have watched the ba-

oooo dramatique

they’re in a time loop?

nope thats a new powerpoint

wait so theyre,,,, no-

wait-

nvm-

IS THE BEN WE KNOW AN ADULT GETTING MARRIED TO ISABELLE OR NOT-

“they were actually pretty nice” didnt they throw someone off a cliff-

oh so it got confusing THEN??? NOT BEFORE?????

“it all seemed so real.” is that Not the point of vivid REM sleep hallucinations-

is oliver gonna show ben the apple and ruin hills’ whole operation

WHO ARE ALEX AND RYAN-

“what’s 25-8″ bro dont do this to me-

yep hes gonna show the apple

ayyy the guy who stole karl jacobs jacket it back

the second hand embarrassment is back and I Hate It

all that happens in episode ONE??? bro get some better writers that is bad pacing

“it’s the best!” wait until season eight. no show has a good season eight.

quinn knows about the apple thing w the dreams and multiverse and realities dont he

YOU KILLED HIM

NOT KARL JACOBS NOOOOO HES ALREADY DIED ONCE

oliver is v relatable

wHaT iN tArNaTiOn-

lemme hear that explanaton again-

is bill cipher gonna show up? i hope bill cipher shows up. i miss gravity falls

“ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree!” moooooooood

did hills murder quinn

is your family the jasper cult

TOXXIICCCCCC get that lady out of your life quinn that is so toxic

“ ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree! ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree!” mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S THE END NO WHAT WHY NO

The Adventures of Benjamin and Oliver

he is Not Good

ope-

wait so ben is equal parts an adult AND a child?? okay that clears a lot up

I MEAN HE WAS RIGHT THO BEN U CAN’T REALLY ARGUE ON THAT-

ew get off the floor

butterfly effect, multiverse theory, memory decay, and your imagination ALL exist yall gonna ignore that cause you wanna be famous?

“We already know what the future looks like!”

aRe yOu sUrE aBoUt tHaT-

to add to the list of bad things: Cats (2019)

YA BOI THINKS IT’S NOT ALREADY FIFTY YEARS TOO LATE TO START FIGHTING CLIMATE CHANGE FFFFF

BINGO BABYYYY

get what what

what mapped-

awwwww he thinks THEY’RE creating the multiverse

you gonna dismiss the multiverse theory bc of something you created in your current reality? loooserrrrrr

ABUSE YOUR GODLIKE POWERS

she draggin that seven year old

a lot makes sense now why didnt i do this first-

Jasper

the food shortages-

bro that calculators like 90 bucks at walmart

imagine meeting a stranger and they know Everything about your life like that’s gotta be so weird

what’s even weirder is them telling you you’re the deity of a cult that sacrifices animals

THAT FOURTH WALL BREAK WAS-

KARL JACOBS IS DEAD NOOOOOO

ooohhh there’s context for that

OOOOHHHH THERE’S CONTEXT FOR THIS TOOOO

w h a t -

W H A T -

Conclusion:

it’s 2 in the morning and i need sleep but hOOOOO MY GODS THAT WAS GOOD IS IT OVER OR NOT IDK ANYMORE IM TIRED THAT WAS CRAZY I HOPE QUINN AND JASPER GO ON TO BE VERY GOOD FRIENDS, AND I HOPE BENJAMIN AND OLIVER STAY VERY GOOD FRIENDS AND I HOPE HILLS FINDS A THERAPIST WAS A LITTLE CONFUSING BUT I ENJOYED IT

if i dream about apples im suing /j /lh

#lucids #nicholas podany #there's a metaphor in there somewhere #but im not gonna be the one to find it #i dont think i dreamed about apples #youre safe for now podany #for now #EDIT #I PUT 'something their not'#WRONG THERE #I HAVE NO EXCUSE #IM SORRY

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thespamman24 · 3 years ago

Text

Squarebob Spongepants 2: 2Square 2Spongey

Squarebob Spongepants 2: 2sqaure 2spongey

Meanwhile… in the cum bucket

Planton: Now, I think I’ve finally found the perfect way of stealing the Krabby patty Formula

Karen: Planton, it appears that Mr. Krabbs is being guillotined.

Planton: Krabbs? Being guillotined? Oh, this is the perfect opportunity for me to steal the secret formula!

Meanwhile...

Rocky : I’ll get yah, yah filthy commie! Sure as mah names Rocky Cheeks!

*Squidward freaks out and runs, pursed by Rocky and Sandy

Squidward: Help!

*Rocky and Pearl are surrounded by armed guards*

Rocky: God dang it! We’re surrounded!

Pearl: Do you have any more ammunition?

Rocky: Of course I don’t, if I did, i would have shot the bastard by now! But, anyways, I don’t need no gun!

*Rocky takes out a lasso and just starts fucking wasting the army*

Sandy: Hold on to your hats!

*Rocky wistles and a sea horse plows through the army. Sandy grabs Pearl and both of them ride off on the sea horse while being pursused by the army*

Pearl: Wait a minute, I need to avenge my Daddys murder!

Rocky: Yah can’t avange your Daddys murdered if yah dead! Now, hang on tight!

*Rocky rides the horse over mountains and stuff, till eventually they both lose the army. Cowboy music plays. This is like the film The Searchers. Eventually, Rocky and Pearl stop the horse.*

Meanwhile..

Spongebob: Why...

Squidward: Well, Squarebob, I never had the nerve to tell you this, but I always found you annoying. However I have a new sense of clarity and purpose, I will let you go free, you don’t have to work at the Krabby Patty any more, you are now free to live your life freely as you choose*

Squarebob: M-mr. Krabs... you k-killed him...

Squidward: Some people deserve to die, Squarebob. We live in a godless world, some one has to play the part of deity. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got other fish to free.

*Squidward leads his army of men into the distance, leaving Spongebob alone. Eventually, Patringgo Starr shows up!*

Patringgo: Hey, Squarebob! What happened!

Squarebob: Mr. Krabbs!

Patringgo: oh... sorry. I got you a jellyfish!

Squarebob: Mr. Krabbs is dead, and that’ all you can give me? A jellyfish?

Patringgo: ...oh, sorry, how about two jellyfish?

*Squarebob hugs Patrick and cries onto his shoulder. Patrick seems unsure what to do. Eventually, Squarebob stops crying and wipes his eyes*

Squarebob: So... what do I do now?

Patringgo: Will... you probably don’t have to go to work anymore, so that means we can go jellyfish hunting together!

Squarebob: I guess...

*Squarbob gazes at the Krusty Krab with stoic eyes*

Squarebob: Unless... I became the new manager of the Krusty Krab!

Patringgo: What?

Squarebob sees Planton trying to sneak into the Krusty Krab

Squarebob: Hey! What are you doing!

Planton: Uh, nothing, I’m just stealing the krabby patty formula...

Squarebob: How dare you...

Planton: Will, it sort of looks like Mr. Krabs just died, so I’m just going to go in, and...

Squarebob: You bastard...

*Squarebob lets out an inhuman cry and runs toward Planton while wielding two spatulas. He rains blows down upon Planton until Planton is a bloody mess*

Planton: Please... I don’t want to die...

Squarebob: Death is too good for you.

Planton: Ouch... my ribs...

Squarebob: Now, get out of my sight

Planton: I can’t move my legs

Squarebob: I said, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!!!!!!

*Spongebob screams so loudly that it launches Plankton into the air, causing him to crash through the window of the Cum Bucket. He lies there on the ground and stares up at Karen*

Karen: I’m guessing it didn’t go to well.

Planton: Fuck you, Karen.

Karen: You are receiving an incoming message

*Planton looks up at the T.V.*

Planton: Oh you again…

Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Hello, Plankton the planton!

Plankton: What do you want.

Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Well, Plankton the plankton, I was thinking, you know, both of our plans never seem to work out, so I was thinking maybe we could do a crossover episode!

Plankton: A crossover?

Dr. Doofenshmirtz: I help you steal the Krabby Patty formula and you help me take over the tri state area!

Plankton: Interesting… you know, you couldn’t have come at a better time.

Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Also, what happened to you? There’s blood all over you, I didn’t even know that Plantons could bleed!

Plankton: Mr. Krabs is dead, that means that if we want to get the Krabby Patty, we’ll have to go through Squarebob!

Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Oh, so maybe I could whip up some sort of inator that would trap SquareRobert or whatever you said his name is…

Plankton: Oh, we’re not trapping him. That motherfucker beat me to a green and red pulp. We’re going to kill Squarebob.

Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Killing Squarerobert? That seems a bit extreme, I don’t usually kill people…

Planton: We’re evil get over it. If you want to rule over the tri-state are then you’ll have to get your hand dirty…

Dr. Doofenshmirtz: I suppose so…

Plankton: Then after I kill Squarebob, I can send my sights to greater ambitions…

*Planton looks at a T.V. on it we see Squidward and his army. They’ve just guiollinted a bunch of fish and he is standing in front of a crowd*

Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Hello… what are you looking back

*We transition to Squidward*

Squidward: People of Bikini bottom, for too long you have toiled under the yoke of the oppressor. Today, you are freed. Worker fish of the ocean, unite! We have nothing to lose but our chains!

*The crowd cheers*

Squidward: All those that stand in the way of worker sliberation shall be crushed beneath our might!

*The crowd cheers again*

Squidward: Let us march on!

*The crowd goes crazy.*

Karen: They are hungry for blood. It seems as if the whole world is hungry for blood. Perhaps they always were, it’s just now that they have something to feat on.

Planton: Shut up, Karen.

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gotmilk5101520 · 4 years ago

Text

Trollhunters: Tales of Arcadia Watch Episode 10 Young Atlas

Keep it crispy.

“I think i just broke my butt” Hey, i brake my butt everyday.

“You would have been just deprived”

“of your right leg”

“three fingers”

“and your gronk-nuks” Jim could do without his right leg and three fingers. But his gronk-nuks? Hey he need that for- Err... Never mind.

“I’m a little preoccupied about kissing Claire”

“I don’t understand” Nobody understands kissing.

Lift the boy.

“What is this kissing?”

“When two people like each other”

“They put their mouths together”

“And depending on how much you like them, the longer the kiss”

“Sometimes for hours” Yeah for hours when you’r- Never mind again.

“Disgusting”

“Killing sounds easier” Killing someone is easier than kissing someone.

“Draal, i really like her”

“If i blow our first kiss”

”I might not get a second”

“Or a third” Or a fourth. Or a fifth. Or a sixth. Or a seventh. or an eighth. or a ninth. or a tenth. Or an eleventh. Or a twelfth. Or a- Okay you guys get my point.

“I once had similar stirrings”

“For an Impure” “Impure? You mean a changeling, right?” “What happened between me and Nomura is none of your business” “I never said Nomura” “Shit” “So, what was your-” “Leave it or i won’t help you” “Okay”

“If these “girls“ require you not to be afraid”

“Then you need a Grit-Shaka”

“Is that a protein shake?” Protein shake the Grit-Shaka.

“Mr. Six-Eyes and Big Scary name...”

“Blinky and Aaarrrgghh”

“You should’ve seen how he stood up for him against the old goat man”

“Vendel?” Wait how does Strickler know which one is Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Vendel?

“Wish they could stay that age forever, right?” *Laughs in Irony*

“Mr. Strickler’s out today, so i’m subbing. He asked me to fill in to teach you some history”

“So without further ado, i present Gun Robot 3!” That’s how you teach history.

“What if i do it weird?”

“What if i can’t breathe?”

“Look at her. Look at her!”

“How can she be so calm?” Yeah she’s “calm” alright.

“It’s just acting Mare. Nothing more” Yeah not like there’s going to be a second kiss. Or a third. Or a fourth. Or a fifth. Or a sixth. Or a seventh. or an eighth. or a ninth. or a tenth. Or an eleventh. Or a twelfth. Or a- Okay you guys get my point.

They’re hopeless. And i thought Marinette and Adrien were hopeless.

“What you two need is a little chemistry lesson”

“Chemistry? Wait, Mary, don’t”

“Coach Lawrence? Jim took seat”

“Lake, give her back her seat” Not paying attention.

“Talk to her!” “Talk? Uh...” “...” “... Hey”

“So...”

“This is awkward, right? Stage kiss”

“And they say comedy is hard” No, comedy is hard. Cause you make one joke, one joke, then everyone might be offended and hate you for the rest of your life all cause of one joke that you had no idea on how much it offends someone cause you were young and stupid and had no idea about anything, and now you’re afraid that you may offended someone with your terrible jokes and they will hate you. But yeah comedy is hard.

“Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry. Time out, time out”

“Draal, our Draal, is helping you with chicks?” Draal the Love Expert.

“I’m not just cool, Tobes”

“I’m crispy”

“Crispy?” Crispy.

“Bring on the surprise!”

What the fuck is that?

“This is the Teacher’s Lounge, Senor Lake. Students are forbidden”

“Which is exactly why i’m here. Testing limits, breaking rules”

“Plus...”

“Ah... best java in school”

“Thing is, i don’t even like coffee” I agree. I don’t like coffee.

“Hey, everybody. Jimmy Lake here”

“Just a quick reminder for everybody to keep it crispy” Crispy.

“Well Toby, if you need me, i’m going to make a list” “A list of what?” “101 Reasons Why i Should Not Marry Jim Lake Jr” “Shouldn’t it be 101 Reasons Why You Should Not Date Jim Lake Jr?” “No, just marry”

Wait, Strickler said they were going to speak to Gunmar tonight, but it’s still the same day. This whole episode happens in a day, but this implies that it’s already night. Or did Strickler and NotEnrique’s conversation happen the same day as when Jim was asking Draal for advise? Cause it would make more sense for this whole to have happened last night.

“Father”

“Father, your release from exile will soon be at hand-” “Who the *Honk* are you?” “It’s me. Your son Bular”

“Son? I don’t have a son. I have a daughter and her name is Pearl! Where is she?! Squidward!” “Which one is Squidward?” “That would me. Spongebob” “Baa-haa-haa-haa-haa!” “Here is your dress, and wig. Pearl”

“Squidward, you have done a job well done. But from now on, me daughter will be giving the orders. Now i would like to speak with me daughter alone” “I thought after all these years of being trapped he would finally get his act together”

“It’s Draal. I mean, it’s Jim. But it’s Draal’s fault”

“Did Draal kill him?” That’s the first thing that Blinky thinks of.

“Crazy?”

“Yeah! It’s like he’s drunk or something” This show got away with saying drunk.

“Not as sweet as thee. milady” Suddenly Chat Noir.

“You rewrote Shakespeare?”

“Oh. A car chase” “What? Wait this is just 1996 movie adaptation starring Leonardo DiCaprio”

“And what’s with all the deaths?

“Gosh! What is this, a tragedy?” There are a lot of mangas that i could think of right now.

“What’s going on?”

“You used to be the nicest guy”

“Now you’re throwing parties”

“Trashing my house”

“And now this?”

“This isn’t you, Jim” Claire getting more and more and more sus.

Yeet the boy.

“No kiss then?”

“No skin off my back!”

“Didn’t want it anyway!”

There three types of people. You’re either Miss. Janeth and you’re thinking “What just happened?” Or you’re Mary and you’re thinking “No my otp” Or you’re Eli and you’re thinking “Aw! What about the car chase?”

“Give me a tattoo of a broken heart”

“With a crack in the middle”

“And make it weep”

That would kill him, right?

Have some Blinky is done with his son’s bushigal.

”For the glory of Merlin”

“Daylight is”

“Mine to command!”

“Holla!”

Drugs are bad kids.

“There you are, you ugly Troll! And what an ugly dress you’re wearing!” “Why you”

“I bet that hurt-”

And he’s down.

And there goes the Grit-Shaka.

“Master Jim!”

“GAH!” Goblins ruins everything.

“Pathetic that you meet your end in a sewer”

“Young Atlas”

“Atlas too carried the weight of the world on his shoulders”

“Watch yourself, Young Atlas”

“Take care of your back, Young Atlas”

Exposed.

“Oh, oh! Toby!”

And no one saw that.

“Also, you’ve been a real turd today” What an odd way to say dick.

“Thanks for saving my neck. I owe you one”

“Yeah great”

“Just don’t ever say “Crispy” again” Fucking crispy.

Oh, hey. Cars. Where were these a few minutes ago?

“Oh, a t- A test?”

“Yes. To test you Mr. Squidward. Now tell me, who’s this ugly guy right here?” “I’ll go get the dress”

“You will kill the boy and free me with his Amulet” If it weren’t for Netflix subtitles, i wouldn’t understand what Gunmar was saying. Next time can Gunmar talk into a mic that doesn’t sound like he’s trying to eat it?

No more crispy, okay?

I wonder what’s for dinner?

#trollhunters #milk watches trollhunters #tales of arcadia

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hext00ns · 4 years ago

Note

What’s your favorite older cartoon? Also, nickolodian, CN, or Disney channel(when it comes to their cartoons)

OUGH this is such a hard but interesting question I LOVE IT!!!!

To be really honest I don’t think there’s an older show I don’t like, there really aren’t very many cartoons I don’t like. But picking a favorite is pretty hard. Buuuut I gotta say, even though I haven’t hyperfixated on it in a hot minute Darkwing Duck will always have a special place in my heart to me especially since it and the other shows from the Disney Afternoon block in the early 90s are a huge special interest to me!

As for which studio I’d pick... to be fair, and I know you didn’t ask this, I would pick Cartoon Network based on how their company is and how it treats its properties and employees. But that’s an essay for another day. Picking them by cartoon is so hard especially OLDER cartoons.

When it comes to older cartoons I think all three have an amazing history in animation. Of course I have my favorite but I really gotta say that Disney probably isn’t my favorite channel when it comes to its cartoons older or modern. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have really good stuff!! But Disney is super hardheaded about what is and isn’t allowed in their shows and it’s definitely obvious when you stand back and take a good look at their lineup. Also all there shows almost feel? The same? And this probably has to do with the above statement but all their modern shows (and older ones) have almost the exact same vibes with plots and settings. It almost feels like they found a trope that made money and started milking it save for maybe one or two shows that brake the mold. Of course every channel has a vibe to their shows which makes sense cause the same people work on them more or less. But with Disney it just feels so much more obvious.

Nickelodeon had some amazing cartoons in the past. Danny Phantom probably being one of my favorites alongside Invader Zim and Jimmy Neutron (I wouldn’t get into ATLAB till I was a bit older lol). However, the channel has gone EXTREMELY down hill in recent years. I’m gonna try not to get into my full hour long rant about it, but basically they treat their cartoons like shit and drop anything that isn’t an immediate success (there’s more to it than that but that’s the gist). Because of this they? Really don’t have anything good to offer? RTMNT was super good but it got taken out to pasture after like two seasons. And also I really just can’t forgive them for what they’re doing to Spongebob (also rumors of a live action Fairly Oddparents reboot? Jesus just let it DIE).

Now for Cartoon Network (you can probably see what my answer is by now but imma keep going lmao). Cartoon Network I would probably say is the best of the three based on the fact that both in the past and present its always had STUNNING cartoons of different variety and styles. Of course there was a uh hm a little rough patch there... it’s fine it happens everyone has bad days. But! Over all! Cartoon Network has had SO MANY good shows over the years that it’s hard to list them all! And yeah it’s a corporation just like the other two and it follows the money like any corporation and sometimes that does lead it into a bear trap buuut over all its not too bad imo. I will go on record to say they suck at reboots though. Like I’m begging this era of nostalgia to end or I’m going to scream. The only concern I have is I’m not sure where Cartoon Network is going from here and it’s kinda worrying. I mean for god sakes all they play is reruns of TTG and sometimes a new episode of a show last time I checked the channel. I think Cartoon Network is having a hard time adjusting to this new digital age of media. It’s the age of the Internet! Everyone over 40 is getting there content through the internet now and Cartoon Network has realized this they just haven’t found a very good way to stay relevant. Which is sad and scary because Id hate to see CN die.

Aaaaa this was way longer than was probably meant HAHA SORRY!! I just love cartoons so much I could go off about them for ages!

#hex chants #anonymous

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colonel-insomniac · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, I wanted to make a request? Slightly angsty Spongebob musical fic, with the SB/Pat/Sandy, set to Boy in the Bubble by Alec Benjamin. Thank you if you do!

I completely forgot i can answer asks oops so here!

“It was 6:48, I was walking home. Stepped through the gate and I’m all alone, I had chicken on the plate but the food was cold, then I covered up my face so that no one knows…”

Bobby had never really fit in with the people in his town. The other people thought he was too extroverted, too trusting. They seemed to love to tell Bobby that he was a boy in a bubble, that no one in the town was genuinely friends with him, that he ought to break out of his fantasy world. Bobby always brushed it off though, took the negative statements and pretended it didn’t affect him. He didn’t want pity from others. If everyone was using him, well...he likes helping people, so it isn't an issue anyhow.

“How is this my fault?” Bobby wondered aloud to the dark air as he kicked the door shut behind him. He felt no need to cover up his face, no one was home, so no one would see. Padding to the kitchen, he digs out some ice cubes, placing them in a bag and holding it to his eye. As he slumps on the couch, he feels his cat Gary climb onto his lap. The tabby chirps at him, and Bobby nods his head, hugging Gary to him.

“Oh Gare-Bear,” the boy sighed, “How do I get myself into these situations time and time again?” The hand that wasn’t occupied with holding an ice-bag to his eye scratched the cat’s head. In response, Gary purred, and simultaneously meowed, as though responding to the boy.

“I didn’t want trouble, I’m the boy in the bubble, but then came trouble…”

Bobby Porter does not get into fights. People see him as the consistently optimistic boy who is too naive. But his temper at times flares, and the one thing he will absolutely not stand for is people being rude to his friends.

Of course, maybe approaching William Fitzgerald while he was surrounded by his posse of friends might not have been the smartest choice. But watching alongside Patrick and Sandy as his buddy Edward was basically publicly humiliated was not okay. Maybe the furthest thing from it, in all honesty.

So Bobby did what he thought was right and marched forward. As he recalls Pat grabbing his arm in an effort to stop Bobby, the boy lifts his chin slightly, still adamant that his decision was right.

"When my mom walked into the living room, she said, "Boy, you gotta tell me what they did to you," I said, "You don't wanna know the things I had to do" she said, "Son, you gotta tell me why you're black and blue…"

Bobby remembers the surprise that passed over Williams' face before he disguised it with disdain.

"You need to leave Edward alone now." He had said through gritted teeth.

"Oh really? And why is that?" The pretentious musician replied, arching an eyebrow.

With a brief glance at Eddy, Bobby felt his anger strengthen. A crowd had begun forming, and he wasn't sure where Pat and Sandy were at that moment. "Because Edward is by far the most talented person ever, more talented than your pretentious self could ever be." Bobby spat the words out, and relished the surprise flitting on the taller guy's face.

His satisfaction was short lived, however. The next thing Bobby remembers is the feeling of something hitting his eye and him falling backwards. A nervous hush fell over the crowd as they waited for Bobby to retaliate.

"I said I didn't want trouble, I'm the boy in the bubble, but then came trouble…"

Bobby scrambled to his feet and threw a right hook at William. Logically speaking, Bobby knew that it likely was not William who punched him, but he knew this was the musicians fault.

William stumbled back, cursing out Bobby as he clutched his cheek.

"And my heart was pumping, chest was screaming, mind was running, air was freezing, put my hands up, put my hands up, I told this kid I'm ready for a fight…"

There's a knock at the door that startles Bobby out of his daze. Gary hops off his lap and trots to the door, sticking his head out the little cat door he had installed.

He knew Patrick and Sandy were likely the ones outside. He also knew they didn't agree with how he'd handled things. But he picked himself off the chair and opened the door, and was surprised when he saw Edward there as well. So surprised, he accidentally lowered the bag of ice.

Sandy winced and Pat looked away. Eddy looked down at his shoes, his clarinet case clutched in his hand. Flushing with embarrassment, Bobby steps aside and gestures for them to enter. "Bobby, Eddy here has got somethin' to tell ya." Sandy broke the silence, glancing at Eddy with a nod.

Curious, Bobby leaned forward in his chair. Ed rolls his eyes and looks away "Thank you for standing up for me. And...I'm sorry about earlier."

"Punch my face, do it 'cause I like the pain, every time you curse my name, I know you want the satisfaction, it's not gonna happen…"

After hitting William, Bobby saw another fist flying at him, and ducked out of the way, and directly into a different hand. This time, however, Bobby didn't fall back. Instead, before his attacker could pull his hand back all the way, Bobby had grabbed a hold of his wrist and managed to pin it behind the guys back.

The idea of kicking this guy briefly fled through Bobby's head, but instead Bobby shoved the guy away, flinching when he touched his cheek and it came back slightly red.

As Bobby went to retrieve his backpack he'd dropped, he heard Eddy mumble "I didn't ask you to do that."

The shorter boy spun around, head slightly tilted to meet Eddy's gaze. "Eddy, how is it that this is my fault now? I stood up for you, I didn't see anyone else do that. I thought I did something good." Bobby stormed away after, entirely wrapped up in the overwhelming exhaustion and pain.

"Knock me out, kick me when I'm on the ground…"

Peering at Edward before slumping in his chair, Bobby shrugged. "It's not too big a deal, because I think it was the right thing to do."

Mostly because Bobby couldn't see from his left eye, he didn't realize Patrick was kneeling at his side until he felt his best friend's hand gently tugging at the bag.

Defenses instantly raised, Bobby pulled away. He felt guilty at the heartbroken way Pat looked. "I— Patrick, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it in any way, I just…" Bobby bit his lip and looked down.

Bobby stood, and in a whisper, said "please, could you guys leave me alone for now?" He moved toward the door, intending to go on a walk, but Sandy appeared before him. So he backed away, only to bump into Pat. "Don't you get it lil' dude?" Sandy giggled.

"You aren't going anywhere." Patrick finished for Sandy, and wrapped his arms around Bobby.

Noticing Eddy trying to exit the scene, Sandy pulled him into the hug, trapping him in the embrace.

"It's only gonna let you down, come the lightning and the thunder, you're the one who'll suffer, suffer…"

Content in knowing that his friends weren't mad at him, Bobby allowed himself to feel the swell of genuine love for his friends, and addition to the feelings he's already felt for Sandy and Pat. But that's for another time.

In the end, he surmised, it doesn't really matter what anyone wants to tell me because these people mean the world to me.

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whatstodaysstim · 5 years ago

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i don't have the means to get a diagnosis but i like im pretty sure im autistic and i want to be able to talk to other people about it but i feel bad cause im not professionally diagnosed,, i was just wondering if you had any advice

Hi!

(I’m sorry if this advice isn’t very good and super rambly)

Well luckily most of the autistic community is pretty welcoming of self-diagnosed people these days, and also you can always talk to me about it if you’d like to! You don’t need to feel bad here online about it, most of us are pretty understanding to why people might not be able to get diagnosed or even want to try (a whole lot of racism, sexism and LGBT denying from psychologists). Just get stuck in and talk about it all how you see fit!

But yeah, unfortunately, a lot of people off the internet won’t discuss neurodivergencies in terms of someone being neurodivergent if you haven’t been diagnosed. Its a load of rubbish that too as the diagnosis process still relies on stereotypes, ableism and just silly things. (E.g. on my diagnosis letter which I, unfortunately, have to show when I want help, it says I have no imagination because I don’t play. Why did they say that? They gave me a bunch of toys that I’d never seen before and told me to play. So I stood them all up and looked at them and tried to think up a story... but my ten minutes to play were over. If that situation hadn’t happened I’d not have been diagnosed as I’d have too much imagination, which we all know to be wrong. I do have imagination and so do plenty of other autistic people.) Watch out for lots of ‘traps’ and stupid things like that if you do get the opportunity to be diagnosed.

I recommend for offline interactions about you being autistic, explain both your reasons for thinking you’re autistic and why you can’t get professionally diagnosed when first talking to a specific individual. If they are understanding and kind they should welcome your discussion and accept you as autistic without too much persuasion. If they really don’t want to be on board within the first few discussions of it, please don’t waste too much energy on them, move on to someone else who is more receptive. I find that when you slowly work away your mask and embrace yourself as an autistic person, those who deny it often also slowly warm up to the idea.

However, if anyone is abusive, extremely ableist (cure-wanting, aba-therapy-supporting) or scary in any other way, I’d recommend not to try for now until you are safe and have plenty of energy. You don’t even ever have to try if you don’t want to. You owe nobody your time, your emotions or explanations. We talk a lot in the autistic community about how masking is tiring and we wish we didn’t have to mask, but it is a defensive mechanism, so please don’t feel bad if you have to mask around anyone.

With those who are welcoming, just talk about what you know you need to feel happier, healthier and more at ease with the world, talk about your struggles. You don’t need to talk about if you are autistic you need x. You can just say you need x now because you know you need it.

This is very long but I wouldn’t recommend just coming to me for advice, I was diagnosed around nine or ten so I don’t know how to navigate the world as self-diagnosed. If there are any self-diagnosed or people who were self-diagnosed for a long time, please add on, your advice will be lots more helpful than mine.I’m gonna tag a few other blogs who can either give advice or boost!

@autie-jake @autistic-reptile @spongebob-autisticquestions @butterflyinthewell

#ask #not a stim

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vers-1 · 2 years ago

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Hey just a couple things to note- very out of context things during the trip

*talking about that queen of dragons or whoever from got and her hair that everyone seems to be getting “even the gays” (whispers)

“Slay… yass” a 10 year old I just met to me

Remember how I said this trip was physically taxing on me.. yea my back is ripped to shreds- those dogs have sharp claws

I fell down half a stair case. The floors are very clean and my socks have no grip, now I wear slippers

Shitty white shirt I got on a whim but it’s like $5 so nice

Head band like soul’s. I’m just a little weeb

I thought it was a minion blanket and then I thought it was SpongeBob and now I think it’s an airplane but I’m not sure because I never really took a good look at it

Kids are so talkative. Or maybe they just want to talk. You let them and they will tell you all about their special interest and because you listened they will stick to you like a fly on a fly trap. It’s funny but also I wanna go sleep

I mentioned going to bed and she was like ok and followed me into my room to keep talking and every time she was like ok I’ll let you sleep she’s turn around and go “and another thing” lmao, to be fair I kno I do that sometimes too

Green bones don’t melt

Everyone forgot that he got a hip replacement and when they saw the titanium him they were all like oh did-did we roast the wrong one?

Why do my little cousins have a better love life than me? You win some you lose some? I have been on a pretty long loosing streak

Puppies!! So many babies

There’s a neighbor pig that will be raised until Christmas

I was kinda freaked out at first. I was scared actually to look at the body. I saw it at a distance so I knew he was there. When my dad beckoned me over I was able to move forward. It’s a strange feeling. You feel like at any moment he’ll wake up and jump up at you, but you know he’s gone. People really do have a glow about them. His light was really gone

Maybe I should get the md instead of the phd. So that there a doctor in the family to give drugs when you need it. Cause it is so convenient actually

I think I still would have been gay if I didn’t immigrate. Just the way I am you know?

I’m sorry psych majors i think Freud would have liked me… yo btw not anymore ok guys I was a kid.. but verdict still stands

Bloom into you still slaps. Not to be that kid but I read it before it was popular. Now that I’m older and my comprehension skills are sharper I realize she was such a brat like the biggest. And everyone was like oh she’s perfect oh she’s flawed oh she’s smart and mature.. guys she’s also delusional, you aren’t that sneaky you little bitch(affectionate)

There’s something so humiliating and vulnerable about speaking my native language(that I should know but don’t, but is practicing) in public. Like I’d say simple things like how much and yes and no thanks and one burger please. And they kno what I’m saying and they understand. But also I kno I’m not saying it right. It’s such a cool feeling tho almost addictive but inside I die a little when my words slur

Where is that Eren erection figurine??

I don’t need lotion here

It’s hot and humid here

I got bit by one mosquito

Pls don’t let me be positive

Monkey pox is the worst. At least Covid has the decency to not make you ugly if you’re infected

Black phone was scary in a way you didn’t expect it

Chestnuts roasting on an open a bunch of really hot rocks

I swear to you the intrusive thoughts should have won today. Those rocks were the most pebble I’ve ever seen and I knew in my hearts heart they were gonna be so hot. When my dad put the chestnut in my hand I felt the sun. I’m glad they took it off immediately. Glad they let me try

I can’t spell immediately, soldier, obviously, and other words in a first try. I use these words so much too

#also I hit him 4 times in the face #I’ve never seriously punched someone before and it was interesting #it didn’t make anything better and i felt disgusted to continue #i just wanted to be in control but in the end he still kept doing whatever the hell he wanted #i want him to suffer but I know I need to just let things go #i just wish I knew how #his face got real red and swelled and I cut up his mouth so that was neat tho #a part of me wishes I just kept going and really beat him up #i feel like I’m just trying to make excuses for myself for not continuing #i almost feel like I could have been past that part of my life but now it’s like I’m back in it just reliving it almost #I’m honestly indifferent to him but I also hate him #46 #everytime I saw how happy he was I thought it was gross #so gross #i wish I could talk to someone about it #i don’t give a shit about what you’ve been through #it’s like he was trying to prove to me all the things that happened to him and what he’s done and how he’s sorry and you should feel bad #like he’s the victim?? bro fuck off with that I don’t give a fuck about your scars actually and I wish it were a rock and not my fists #i don’t have monkey pox but I’ve seen those photos and wow rough

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markipliergamegifs · 7 years ago

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My List of My Fav Videos From 2017!!

Hold onto your hats kids, this is gonna be a long list cause I have no self control with these types of things. I LIKE THEM ALL SO MUCH I CAN’T NARROW IT DOWN! I had to stop myself from watching all of these over again lol They are in chronological order too btw

My Mom Plays Five Nights at Freddy's (starting off the year right, with this fantastic video)

THE ULTIMATE BET (where we found out Mark’s real age is 7 years old)

Markiplier's Adventures 2 (there was just something fun and special about this fan game! and Tiny Box Tim and Tiny Box Tina were so cute! pls more fan games in the future)

How Do You Pronounce "Archive"? (this was cool cause it was one of the first videos he did where he got fan participation in the video)

Markiplier Makes Fanart (loved this, so much fun)

Buried (this game was so cool, cause the story was great and I was waiting excited every day for a new video)

I've Got Something for YOU!! (he made fans twitter banners and it was amazing)

Golf With Friends (always fantastic)

Resident Evil 7 (I really loved this game okay)

Friend Yoga (where Mark and Tyler try not to kill each other while doing yoga)

Mr. Massagy - Part 1 (so fun)

Cards Against Humanity (they are the worst kinds of people)

BALLOON ANIMAL CHALLENGE (laughed so much)

Raft (mark goes insane on the ocean)

ghost dog (chica is a ghost)

Markiplier Makes Videos (all of them are on this list cause they are amazing and one of my favorite series)

Markiplier Footballs the Super Bowl (this is was a lot of fun but also Mark abandons Tyler at the park)

The Challenge Challenge (best challenge vid)

I'M SORRY!! (Ethan and Tyler are mean to Mark and we all loved it)

A DATE WITH MARKIPLIER and also the Bloopers (the start of something so amazing the my heart can’t handle it and neither can the fandom. definitely gonna binge this year on Valentine’s Day)

Oxygen Not Included (a great game, so amazing I bought it)

Markiplier Going on TOUR!? (hilarious and amazing)

SAVE MARKIPLIER (that time Mark and the gang were trapped in Boston so he punched all the snow)

Winter is Coming - OFFICIAL TRAILER (that time Mark and the gang were trapped in Boston and Mark went crazy)

OneShot (a great game that Mark keeps saying he’ll finish)

THIS GUY is allowed to STREAM?! CHARITY????? GONE WRONG? YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT! GONE VIOLENT! CRYING! (okay..okay..I couldn’t not include this stream as one of my favorites, cause it’s where Mark called me on Skype! I was the first one they called and still almost a year later I’m like WOW THAT WAS ME)

360 VIDEO | Let's Play Minecraft | Part 1 (the return of Google)

Markiplier Bounces on a Trampoline (so meme-y)

click here if you want to see unending sadness (that time we celebrated Wade’s birthday instead of Mark hitting 17 million)

Don't Play This Game (that time Dark appeared in a Let’s Play)

You're Welcome (that time Mark fell on his ass and it was hilarious)

Playerunknown's Battlegrounds (this game is amazing, I need more always)

Markiplier TV and Bloopers (that time the egos all came back and everyone lost their shit over it. one of my BIG FAVS from this year)

PREY (great game!)

spongebob meme (i love memes, what can I say)

FIDGET SPINNERS RUIN LIVES (”You’ve been in there since St. Patrick’s Day!)

Kindergarten (also a good game!)

Google Gets An Upgrade (Google is back and say hello to Bing!)

Quick Message! (this was freakin adorable)

World's 4th Quietest Let's Play (so quiet, so many mouth sounds)

Reading Your Comments #18 (so good, it has Chica hiccups and Amy doing Mark’s makeup)

Mario Kart w/ Ethan - Part 1 (THE GOO)

snoot (best vid of 2017)

Doodly Doo | Markiplier Remix (sprintin down the hallway!)

putting on AND taking off 48 SHIRTS (it’s always funny when they take them off and Mark get’s squooshed)

My longest hello everybody ever (he turned 28 and this was the first thing he did)

I Google Myself (I love this)

Crash Bandicoot N'Sane Trilogy (pls more, I love)

Dream Daddy (A GOOD GAME)

DARKIPLIER vs ANTISEPTICEYE and Bloopers (the video people wanted in a way they didn’t know that they also wanted)

West of Loathing (BEST GAME OF 2017 OKAY)

The Man With No Shadow (best original song. mark started singing this at the Louisville show but then realized he didn’t know the words)

MaRkiPLieR JuSt WatChES aS PeOple Fu$^!NG DIE (best sub reddit ever and brought me so much joy)

Ed Sheeran - Thinking Out Loud - Cover (so beautiful and amazing, so proud of Mark)

Who Killed Markiplier? and Bloopers (what can I even say about this, so so amazing. so proud of the team and also killed the fandom again and still is killing us to this day)

JIM NEWS (The Jims have a special place in my heart and I love them and will protec)

Van Vlogs (such an amazing idea! like honestly, thank you for bringing us with you on your adventures)

Playing Dead with CHICA!! (chica is cute and deserves everything in the world)

nyoom (this video was just so badass?????)

The Evil Within 2 - Part 1 (more interactive streams!)

James Arthur - Say You Won't Let Go - Cover (so beautiful and so much improvement!)

7 Second Challenge: KNOCK-OFF DAN & PHIL (always funny)

BALLOON ANIMAL CHALLENGE #2 (where is the proboscis?)

Don't remember (woke up and watched this and then couldn’t get back to sleep cause OMG WTF IS HAPPENING)

big MOOD? (this was a big mood)

Chica's First Ball Pit (I love the Chica’s FIrst videos so much omg!! Also why is there no playlist of these, it’s a crime)

Mashed Potato Bath Tub (hiding in my room to watch this video while my family was downstairs on Thanksgiving)

Five Nights at Freddy's: Pizzeria Simulator (I really enjoyed this game, fun times)

Cuphead (omg such an amazing game, so well done, inspired)

Are You Ready For Christmas QUIZ (laughed...so much)

Doki Doki Literature Club (it brought the spooks in the best way)

CHICA'S FIRST SNOW (saw this after opening presents on Christmas and it was so beautiful my mom didn’t even realize it was Mark singing and gosh, the most pure video ever, also the Peanut’s Christmas is my fav so 11/10)

And here it is! My way-too-long list of favorite Markiplier video’s from 2017!! This took me 2 hours lol There were just so many good one’s this year!! Thank you Mark so much for all the amazing videos you make for us. It’s so inspiring every day. I look forward to all the videos you’ll make this year~

#markiplier #markipliertag2 #long post #long long long post #sorry about that lol #playlist

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gibbyj · 3 years ago

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goodnight and goodbye handsome

7.13.21 / 2:21 am

fuuuuuck i’m high!!’ turns out if you don’t smoke all day you get literally blasted. anyways hahaha, that’s not the point is it?

if you’ve gotten this far, i assume you’re reading this. honestly, i assume you’re reading this anyway. maybe not tonight, or tomorrow, but for some reason you’ll come. in a few days, you’ll visit my page.

here’s the thing, i know why i visit you. i’m in love with you. it’s really that simple. i tell people that, and i think that. deep down, i fear it may not be true. i’m terrified i’ve wasted years of my life craving a fling. and yet, deeper down, i’m drawn to you. i’m trapped in your fucking wave.

that’s a song you told me to listen to. do you remember why we broke up? hahahaha, i guess that’s a dumb question. in this world, everyone genuinely has their own truth. their own steps they’ve walked in this world to get to the version of themselves and their surroundings in their mind. [side note: that’s pretty fucking poetic right? i came up with that in 10 seconds high as a kite, please start writing again? i miss it, the world misses it. what happened to your notebook? ik you have ideas in there]

anybays, here’s my full version of why i genuinely believe you broke up with me. 1) you had a crush on her, and you were attracted to her 2) you were hurt bc i had been in texting him 3) we were fighting a lot 4) we had been getting bored 5) i was kinda petty and a bitch 6) i had been lying to you (and the world) for most of my life 7) i had been intentionally distancing myself and avoiding you 8) i’m SURE things i’m forgetting

i’m sure that’s incomplete, and perhaps incompatible with your version of events. i had also already broken up with you, that was a major factor. i used to point this out to our friends, and anyone who would listen to me, that you followed a similar path. when was the last time you were genuinely single, 14? 15? i don’t point that out to say that you weren’t able to grow, i’ve spent most of my grown life in love. but you always had someone lined up. you didn’t get rid of me until you had someone else to kiss.

i did that too, but i got bored. i really thought you would get bored. and i’m sorry, i wish i didn’t wish that. every part of me wants to have been able to let you go after i had written my first goodbye. but here’s the thing. you responded, quickly. and i’m sorry, im genuinely sorry for all of the times i reached out to you. im sorry for trying to add you on snapchat. im sorry for messaging you when i thought you were trying to talk to me. and im really, really, sorry for blacking out and texting you.

but here’s the, thing. you responded. you respond quickly. why do you check on me? seriously, why? sometimes i think, probably more like hope, you’re here bc i look good in my pictures, bc obviously that’s my intention. but why do you talk to me? and no, you dont. that’s really hard to explain to the people closest to me. no, we don’t talk, he like subtweets me? but i swear i’m not crazy. no really, they’re original posts, what else could they be?

and i dissect them, over and over again. i listen, i think about it, i picture you singing in your car, or smiling with your eyes closed. i think of you in your bed, thinking of me, and i don’t know why. because you don’t talk to me, you don’t seem to like me, and you don’t seem to be unhappy.

i drove past your house tonight. and in my FUCKING defense, it’s an alternative to my gd house, no one seems to understand that it’s literally like not a detour and i get home in the same amount of time. but i really don’t know why i do it. because i’m never happy. it’s never what i want. here’s what i want, i want you walking to your car, and seeing me drive past, i’d wave, slow down, and say hi. and finally ask for a goddamn explanation.

but that’s never going to happen. and i have to accept that. that’s never going to happen. i’m never going to rest my head in your neck, or hold your hand, or kiss you, or hug you, or laugh with you, or sing, or drive, or talk to you ever again. and that makes me so sad.

as i write that, i can feel the blood draining from my arms, and my stomach fell. i will probably go to sleep tonight, and even though i’ll distract myself with cormac mccarthy, i’ll be sad tonight.

my grandmom died on thanksgiving. i’m sure you don’t remember, but she was my best fucking friend. i’m not gonna talk about that, but i bring it up to say that if i’m being honest, my bones feel the same now as they did then.

we’re dead. the glimmer of me that believes in us, that picture going to concerts, seeing you drunk, dancing and laughing and singing and kissing and fucking and driving and watching movies and making jokes and living life together is gone. it’s dead. it has to be dead.

i went to barnes and noble today, and i looked for your car in the parking lot. i went to ocean city, and i scanned the top of the crown looking for your smile. and then i went to hammonton.

i got drinks with an ex tonight, don’t worry it wasn’t you. we have nothing in common, but he’s a good friend to me, and he’s really supportive and is always there for me, which tbh isn’t a common trait among my good friends. we talked, and it was pretty boring, but it was nice. and i asked him wtf you were doing. what it meant. why. if i should drive past your house.

he said no, i shouldn’t. he didn’t understand why i would choose to hurt myself that way. i showed him your page, and he chuckled a little. i dissect your feed, i visit you in the morning and the evening. every original post a message. a reaction or a plea in some way.

he told me i was crazy, which he isn’t wrong about. and the funny thing is, the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. sometimes, i fear i’m just a joke. maybe you guys watch me together, listen to my songs and laugh at the desperation between the lyrics. but, i really don’t think that’s it. you’re better than that. you’re nice, people don’t know that, to be honest you don’t always show that, but you have such a pure heart. and i don’t think you’re that gross.

maybe i’m wrong, and gd if i am gg sis you really found your person. but i don’t think im talking to both of you. i really, really think im talking to you. sometimes, it really feels like im talking to you. like you’re next to me, if i close my eyes, i can almost feel your hands on me.

but, im not. you’re in that deer town, and im in the college court. we’re thirty miles, and three years apart from one another. we’ve grown and changed and flipped upside down from those kids hanging out at the voorhees mall.

and so im left to figure out by myself why you’re here. why despite you being far and happy, you come to haunt me. you know, most exes emotionally haunt their ex, not legitimately leave unnecessary and misleading breadcrumbs.

i have a whole slew of degrees now, so i’ve come to my best version of a guess: you’re filing your insurance card. and you know what? four hours ago, i really would have been okay with that. i would have dated and waited and dated and waited until you came crying back, because you were my person. you were my goddamn dream boy. and i couldn’t believe i had you.

i let you go so quickly. and goddamn julia you didn’t let anyone go. here’s what i realized: anyone can fight for anyone. if you wanted me as badly as i want you, you would be here. here, here. but you’re not. instead, she’s there.

and i finally realized, what’s the goddamn point? i don’t know if you realized bro but i’m literally a gd catch. also, tbh i’m a lady w 38ddds so i can laid truly anytime i need to. and more importantly, i’m funny. i’m nice. im kind and i’m compassionate and caring and giving and smart as hell and really fun to hang out with. im a great singer, and a really fun dancer. and guys realize that.

there are so. many. guys like you. and i don’t mean that to be rude, trust me i didn’t know that this morning. but there are funny guys out there. there are guys who will go crazy when i take my clothes off and call me when i’m sad, and they’ll be happy to do it. they’ll be excited to be with me, i won’t be a back up.

and so, i’m giving myself that opportunity. i’m letting myself let go of you, to bury you and us alongside the memories i’m grateful for. so thank you, for teaching me all of my favorite bands. for making me laugh, and holding me when i needed you to. for kissing me, for loving me, and for reminding me that even now, im still a little special.

but i’m not going to sit around and wait for you to react. im not going to check on your songs, or your liked posts, or drive past your goddamn house. im not going to obsess over what you’re trying to say, because if you wanted to say it, you would. you wouldn’t hide it in spongebob songs, you would just message me. you would say hi.

but you dont, and deep down, i know you wont. god, even now, i want this to turn you inward. but when it doesn’t, or if it does and you still want nothing to do with me, i’m not gonna cry. because i really, really, really believe i’m gonna be okay.

i hope you’re okay too. i really, really wish you nothing but the best in this world. whatever this world brings you, i hope it comes with happiness, the ability to find joy in any situation, laugh at the small things. i believe in you, i hope you learn to believe in yourself.

#with this goodbye i change my life

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im-coming-to-you-live · 7 years ago

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SpongeBob- Truth, or Reality?

Truth, or Reality? Summary: SpongeBob invites his friends to play a game of ‘’Truth or Dare’’ at his house. Rated: T for Teen; 13+ Characters: Squidward, SpongeBob, Patrick, Sandy Pairing(s): None Genre: Friendship Word Count: 7, 280

‘’My mouth tastes like nuts’’ was based on this picture: https://superhotbeam.tumblr.com/post/162920602400/thank-you-ms-paint#notes

Fic belongs to me.

SpongeBob Musical belongs to Kyle Jarrow (who wrote the book).

SpongeBob © Nickelodeon.

[X-posted from deviantART]

‘’Have you ever noticed that when you’re swimming it seems like you’re standing still, but you’re really moving?’’ SpongeBob began. ‘’And when you’re on a plane, it seems like you’re going by so slow but actually you’re moving really fast?’’ Children made the strangest observations. ‘’What are you talking about?’’ ‘’Fish might not notice water, and we might not notice time. But those are our realities,’’ SpongeBob explained. ‘’If we move fast, then time will move slower. So for a runner, the time is moving slower than someone who is walking.’’ Squidward only rubbed his temples in annoyance. ‘’What does this have to do with anything?’’ ‘’Silly Squiddy, weren’t you listening?’’ He wasn’t. ‘’It’s all got to do with reality versus perception. That’s what Sandy calls it anyway. Cool idea, huh?’’ ‘’I don’t need a kid to tell me all this.’’

‘’That’s just it,’’ the boy said as he sat up, ‘’I was at Sandy’s today and I observed a beetle trapped in a spider’s web. The beetle kept struggling to survive, but it couldn’t get out. Sometimes it would seem like the beetle would give up, but when the small black spider would come down from its hiding spot and try to attack it, the beetle would try even harder to break free, shaking the web. This dance would continue for hours. Sandy told me not to interfere but I ended up setting the beetle free. It was all very interesting when it came to life, one struggling to live. The beetle was maybe three times the size of the spider, and even a big thing like that would end up in a mess, and how we can be controlled by our environment, or manipulated, as in this case the web, and the spider, the controller. But there could be many other metaphors from this as well, life and death, struggle—‘’ Squidward sighed and draped his bony arms over his eyes, in a sore attempt to drown out SpongeBob’s nonsense. He stopped listening after awhile, because he couldn’t make sense of how this all logically connected together. This was not unusual for Spongebob. He had the tendency to jump from one topic to another, thus confusing the helpless listener who tried to follow along. ‘’SpongeBob, please,’’ he begged. ‘’Shut up, I can’t take it anymore.’’ ‘’Sorry,’’ SpongeBob apologized. ‘’You’re having one of your migraines?’’ SpongeBob had witnessed Squidward’s deadly headaches on more than one account, so he recognized the signs almost immediately. Squidward felt tempted to plug his ears. He didn’t know why he found himself lying on his back on this idiot’s bed to begin with. He had a rough day at work, having to deal with those bloody, chatty customers. The last thing he needed was SpongeBob chewing his ear off about philosophical questions he didn’t give a shit about, so he didn’t know what possessed him to let himself be dragged along like this. ‘’Make yourself useful and go find Sandy and Patrick,’’ he ordered. ‘’The sooner we can get this over with, the better.’’ ‘’I think they went downstairs for refreshments.’’ ‘’Well, they’ve been down there an awful long time. What are they doing, painting the Sistine chapel?’’ With that, Squidward slid off the bed, which caused his already throbbing head to pound unforgivably so. ‘’Never mind, I’ll fetch them myself.’’ ‘’You look exhausted,’’ SpongeBob pointed out. No shit, Sherlock. ‘’Maybe you should lie down. I’ll go get them.’’ ‘’I’ve been lying down,’’ Squidward snapped. ‘’I’ve been lying down for years, don’t make much difference now, does it? I’m fucking tired, all the time. I gotta get up now, otherwise I’ll fall asleep.’’ SpongeBob remained very quiet for a moment, then said, ‘’You didn’t have to come if you didn’t feel like it. I would’ve understood. I just hate seeing you lonely all the time, but if you’re tired, that can’t be helped. You can go home and rest, if you want.’’ No, he wasn’t getting rid of him that easy. ‘’Oh, come off it, I’m alright,’’ said Squidward. ‘’Besides, I’m tired of being stuck in the house on a Saturday night, even if it is your bloody house.’’ And with that, Squidward trudged downstairs, feeling the fatigue hitting him like a shower of stray bullets. Damn, he felt more tired walking around than he did lying on SpongeBob’s bed. What was the matter with him? Is that why he so begrudgingly accepted SpongeBob’s invitation? Was he sick to death of going to bed early on a weeknight like some elderly man in a retirement home? He was only 45 for crying out loud. He should have the energy of a bull. Hell, Mr. Krabs seemed to have more energy at his age, and he was 70! To make matters worse, it was only 8:00 PM and he felt like crashing. No, he would will himself to stay awake, stay up late playing with these stupid kids till at least 12:00 AM. He could prove he was still young. He wasn’t old! And he certainly would not be beaten out by some 70-year-old man. If Mr. Krabs could do it, then so could he. He sauntered into the kitchen, expecting to find Patrick and Sandy, but it was empty. In fact, SpongeBob’s entire house seemed to be empty, and quiet. Too quiet. Maybe they had gone into the living room? But when Squidward checked, they weren’t there either. What the Hell? ‘Don’t tell me they went home and left me here all alone with that nuisance,’ Squidward thought, and truthfully he couldn’t blame them if they had, but sure enough, he heard a fit of laughter outside the front door. When he went to go look, Sandy and Patrick were chilling on the porch. Squidward just watched them for a moment, before stepping outside and making his presence known. ‘’Hate to interrupt you lovebirds, but SpongeBob and I been waiting for you upstairs for a hundred years,’’ he said, almost disinterested. He half hoped they had gone home, so he could have an excuse to retire for the evening. ‘’Oh, howdy, Squidward.’’ Sandy greeted him as she turned around. ‘’We’ll be up in a sec, I just needed some air is all.’’ He saw Patrick mouthing something to him over her shoulder but he couldn’t rightfully make out what it was. ‘’What?’’ he demanded. ‘’What?’’ Patrick echoed back. ‘’I didn’t say ‘hot flashes’.’’ Sandy turned to Patrick with a glare. ‘’I ain’t having none of that. Why is that when a girl needs some air, that automatically means she’s having PMS? I just needed some air. I’m a mammal, after all.’’ ‘’Yeah, whatever,’’ Squidward declared. ‘’I’ll just tell SpongeBob the two of you are too busy having a romantic night out.’’ He turned to go back inside, closing the door behind him, which muffled an exchange of bickering, before heading back upstairs. When he did, he found SpongeBob sprawled out on the floor over a Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy comic. Did he ever do that at that age? No, Squidward reasoned, he was done reading comic books by the age of twelve. ‘’Sandy and Patrick are snogging on your porch,’’ Squidward said sarcastically in that same monotone, bored voice, ‘’Thought you ought to know. So I guess I’ll go home now.’’ ‘’Shut up,’’ SpongeBob said as he looked up from his comic. Squidward looked taken aback for a moment, and was about to demand why the heck he told him to ‘shut up’, but then he remembered ‘shut up’ had a completely different meaning for today’s generation. ‘’See for yourself,’’ and Squidward pointed to the window. Of course, SpongeBob fell for it and rushed to see what Squidward was talking about. While he was distracted, Squidward saw the opportunity to escape. But as he exited SpongeBob’s bedroom, he was met with Sandy and Patrick coming up the stairs. ‘’Hey, Squidward,’’ he heard SpongeBob’s voice call from his room, ‘’I don’t see anything! They’re gone.’’ ‘’We’re here!’’ Sandy shouted back. ‘’You weren’t leaving, were you?’’ Patrick asked, but before Squidward could answer, he felt the other grip his shirt collar and drag him back into the room. ‘’Hey look, we found Squidward!’’ Patrick beamed. ‘’Great, so I guess we can get started,’’ SpongeBob said gleefully. Squidward had no idea what a bunch of young adults usually did on a Saturday night, but he didn’t want to stick around and find out. He thought about running for the bathroom, but Patrick still had a hold of him. He felt Patrick drag him down as he was forced to sit on the floor and form a circle with the rest of them, Sandy directly across from him, Patrick to his right, and SpongeBob next to Patrick. He wondered what game they would be playing until he saw Sandy take out an empty wine bottle she had been carrying in a satchel. Squidward just scowled at the bottle. He knew exactly where this was going. By God, why did it have to be this game? He hadn’t played this game since he was sixteen, and it was an awful experience from what he remembered. It was at some summer camp his mother forced him to attend in order to ‘’make friends’’. ‘Gee, mama, you were wrong about that one, too.’ He remembered being crowded into a cabin with young, semi-naked, drunk individuals, five boys and four girls. They had gone night swimming before the game, and no one bothered to dress themselves fully. He was the only one who refused to take off his clothes, instead preferring to hide behind a baggy sweater even though the night air wasn’t cold. He was painfully shy, and didn’t have very many friends. He was always the weird, quiet kid who sat by himself at lunch, drawing pictures, so he was surprised the ‘’cool kids’’ invited him to play their game at all. Of course, he didn’t suspect foul play. And they weren’t particularly mean to him. They just tended to ignore him during most of the summer, so he didn’t know why he suddenly became visible enough to be noticed for ‘’Truth or Dare’’. Surely, there were plenty of other kids at the camp who could have participated. But no, they asked him. He recalled that he had a huge crush on one of the girls playing, and suffice to say, it didn’t end well. ‘’Erm, can’t we play something else?’’ Squidward suggested. ‘’Y’know...maybe cards? Charades or something?’’ ‘’But we play ‘Truth or Dare’ every Saturday night,’’ SpongeBob clarified. ‘’It’s tradition.’’ ‘’Yeah, man, can’t break tradition,’’ Patrick added. ‘’But now that we got four players this time, it’s gonna be extreme fun.’’ ‘’Yay. I’m so excited, I can’t wait, I’m pissing myself with joy,’’ Squidward moaned. ‘’Oh, cheer up, Squiddy,’’ SpongeBob giggled as he reached across Patrick to pat Squidward on the knee. ‘’It’s not like anyone ever died played this game before.’’ ‘I did,’ Squidward thought to himself, but wouldn’t dare admit this out loud. ‘’So ya’ll know how to play this game, right?’’ Sandy asked. ‘’But for those who don’t, or who haven’t played it in twenty-some years,’’ she gave a knowing look towards Squidward, ‘’Here’re the rules: we take turns spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on, we ask ‘em a simple ‘Truth or Dare’ question, to which the victim’s gotta choose. Once they choose which one, we challenge ‘em. That’s pretty much it.’’ ‘’Aaaand the limitations,’’ SpongeBob prompted. ‘’We gotta have limitations.’’ ‘’Right. The players have limited amounts of truths per player. Five each. And as far as dares go, nothing too raunchy. I ain’t counting on SpongeBob’s supply of condoms here, if ya catch my drift. Let’s keep it PG, people. Any questions before we start? Speak now, or forever hold your—’’ ‘’Oooh ooh me me!’’ Patrick enthusiastically raised his hand. ‘’I have a question!’’ ‘’What is it, Patrick?’’ ‘’What’s PG stand for? Is that, like, ‘Party Game’, or something?’’ ‘’No, it stands for ‘Pretty Gay’,’’ Squidward remarked. ‘’Now are we gonna waste anymore time, or is someone gonna spin sometime tonight?’’ ‘’Alright, alright, don’t get your thong in a bunch, Mr. Tentacles,’’ Sandy puffed. ‘’So I’ll go first, Squidward second, then Patrick, then SpongeBob. Sound fair?’’ ‘’Whatever,’’ Squidward said as he crossed his arms over his chest. He prayed to Neptune above that he could get through this night without murdering someone. Without further delay, Sandy reached between the circle, and placed the bottle in the middle of the floor. They watched carefully as she spun the bottle. It went around and round until it slowed to a halt at none other than...Squidward. He frowned. Of course. ‘’Watch out, Squidward, she plays mean!’’ SpongeBob laughed. Thanks for the warning. ‘’Truth, or Dare?’’ she asked, not without a devilish smirk of her own. Now, this question presented a lose-lose situation, because anyone knows that to be cool you have to choose ‘’Dare.’’ And if you do choose ‘’Truth’’ then you are punished for not choosing ‘’Dare’’ by being forced to answer the most scandalous question possible. The question, he knew, was likely to be whether he had French-kissed a boy. In his experience, he had been asked this question. If ‘’Yes,’’ he would be peppered with follow-up questions about every detail, which would require serious on-the-fly lying and brutal concentration. But ‘’No’’ would be even worse: he would be branded as ‘’un-cool’’ and ‘’un-frenchable’’. The choice was clear: choose Truth and tell the Truth, choose Truth and lie, or choose Dare. ‘’Dare, I suppose,’’ Squidward sighed. Truth was waaaay too complicated. ‘’So,’’ Sandy said with a mischievous eyebrow raise, ‘’I dare you to choose, out of the three of us, who you would hitch,’’ and here she dramatically paused, ‘’Screw,’’ another pause, ‘’Or murder.’’ ‘’I think you mean ‘Marry, Fuck, or Kill’,’’ Patrick pointed out. Sandy shrugged. ‘’Eh, same difference.’’ Squidward sighed again. This was the worst Dare imaginable. Maybe he should have gone with Truth after all. Twenty-nine years ago, the girl he liked had been dared this very challenge when it came to her turn. She happened to name him as the guy to kill. Back then, he was super sensitive (kind of like SpongeBob, he supposed) so as soon as she said his name, he stormed out of the cabin in a fit of rage. Of course, someone went after him, but it was in a dark forest in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the sounds of sea bears lurking about, and he almost got lost. It was one of the scariest things that ever happened to him. Eventually, one of the boys convinced him to come back, but when he did, he never looked at that girl again. Sure, it was just a game, and maybe he took it too seriously, but all hopes of any possibility of her liking him back, all prospect of a summer romance, were dashed. After all, he didn’t know what he did to that girl to make her say she would kill him off. She never even spoke to him. Squidward felt like getting up and storming out right now. This game was so mindless. He swore he was losing brain cells every moment, but at least he didn’t have to think too hard on this one, especially since it was all for shits and giggles anyway. Without batting an eye, he said, ‘’Marry Patrick. Fuck Sandy. Kill SpongeBob. Er, no offense.’’ He braced himself, hoping SpongeBob wouldn’t have the same reaction as his sixteen-year-old self. He knew how sensitive SpongeBob was. Bloody hell, maybe he should have thought this over a little more. Maybe he should have switched up the choices. Well, he certainly didn’t want to fuck Patrick, that was out of the question. Maybe he should have killed him instead. But he wanted to kill SpongeBob more, even if it meant having to marry Patrick. He didn’t want to marry SpongeBob either, he was too impossible to live with as it was. And he certainly didn’t want to fuck him. Maybe he should have married Sandy, fucked SpongeBob, and killed Patrick, but honestly, neither option sounded all too appealing. If he had a choice, he’d marry, fuck and kill Sandy straight across, as she was the least annoying of the three of them. Was he even allowed to do that? Much to his relief, Sandy and SpongeBob burst into laughter and fell on top of each other while doing so. Apparently, this happened before at some other party, and they expected this answer. Squidward failed to see the humour in all this. Patrick, on the other hand, remained very thoughtful, or at least he looked that way. With his dopey expression, it was hard to tell. ‘’Why would you marry me?’’ Patricked asked. ‘’If I answered that question, wouldn’t that technically be breaking the rules? I chose Dare, not Truth.’’ ‘’Yeah, but, I’m not asking you to tell me the Truth, I’m just...curious,’’ Patrick shrugged. ‘’I don’t know, Patrick,’’ Squidward threw up his hands, ‘’It’s just a stupid game, alright? I mean honestly, I’d kill both you and SpongeBob, but since I can only kill one, I’d kill him first, marry you, then probably file for divorce the very next day, or murder you on our wedding night. I’m not taking any of this seriously, and neither should you!’’ For some reason, this caused Sandy and SpongeBob to laugh even harder. ‘’I was just askin’, sheesh,’’ and Patrick indicated the bottle. ‘’Uh, who’s turn is it?’’ ‘’Think it’s Squidward’s,’’ SpongeBob said between chuckles, as he wiped away tears. Once Sandy and SpongeBob managed to compose themselves, Squidward spun the bottle. He hoped it wouldn’t land on Sandy. Not that he had any reason to exact revenge on her for her challenge, but he didn’t want to feel like his spin was biased. His prayers were answered, when it landed on SpongeBob instead. Great. Not exactly a blessing, but oh well. He’d bite. ‘’Oooooooh,’’ Sandy and Patrick chimed together. ‘’Oh, grow up, you two,’’ Squidward instructed, before turning to SpongeBob, who just smiled at him, waiting for the question. ‘’Well, SpongeBob, you know what to do.’’ ‘’Okay, um...’’ he chewed his lower lip, deciding on his fate for a moment before he said, ‘’Truth.’’ Squidward just blinked. No one chose ‘’Truth’’. And he was hoping he wouldn’t say that. He was a fool if he was trying to look ‘’brave’’. Choosing ‘’Truth’’ was just stupid. Again, he was brought back to that fateful night, when he, himself, had been challenged with ‘’Truth,’’ when he was too ignorant to know it was ‘’un-cool’’. And the question was, ‘’Where do you see yourself in twenty years?’’ Squidward bit on his tongue. Damn it all, he didn’t mean to think that out loud, but before he could take it back, it was too late. He watched SpongeBob purse his lips, that same look he always got when deep in contemplation. When Squidward answered the very same question twenty-nine years ago, he said he could see himself on Broadway, or at least a successful artist with his own gallery. Squidward had to laugh now. How stupid and naive he was. In reality, he ended up working at the Krusty Krab at 36, the dream slipping further and further away as the years wore on. He couldn’t begin to imagine what SpongeBob would say. ‘’In twenty years,’’ SpongeBob finally replied, ‘’I’ll be your age. I always kinda wanted to be like Squidward, so yeah. When I’m 45, I’m gonna be just that. I’m gonna be Squidward. I’m gonna work my ass off, take pleasure in the more sophisticated things life has to offer, like sitting at home on my day’s off with a good book, and I’ll be graceful and dignified, and wise beyond my years. And maybe there’ll be a nice twenty-something kid-next-door that’ll look up to me, the same way I look up to Squidward.’’ The room was quiet for a moment, before Patrick let out a slow clap. ‘’Nice one, buddy,’’ he complimented. Squidward just stared at SpongeBob, utterly dumbfounded. In truth, he fought the urge to punch that smile off his face. No, no, no, he didn’t want to be like Squidward. He didn’t want to be so drained of energy that it was a struggle just to get out of bed every day. He didn’t want to face the never-ending disappointment in himself that he couldn’t be more than what he was. He didn’t want to be so lonely and empty that he cried himself to sleep each night with nothing but painful memories to keep him company. Most of all, he didn’t want to be tortured by someone so full of life, that it was a severe reminder of the youth and happiness he lost, a reminder that he was the dead among the living. Squidward couldn’t blame him, he supposed. When he was 16, he was stupidly optimistic of what the future held, too. He had to pity the misguided fool. ‘The poor bloke,’ he thought. ‘He hasn’t a clue.’ ‘’Well,’’ Squidward said, turning to Patrick. ‘’Your turn.’’ Patrick did as he was told and spun. The bottle landed on Sandy. Now it was SpongeBob and Squidward who let out an ‘’Ooooooh.’’ Squidward didn’t know why he joined in, but he had to admit, the whole situation was bleeding hilarious, especially with how he found them laughing together at Neptune-knows-what on the porch earlier. Who knows? Maybe this would be Patrick’s opportunity to ask her if she really was having hot flashes. Okay, that was lame, but seriously, Squidward was starting to sort of feel like a kid all over again. Maybe there was more to this game after all. ‘’Oh, grow up, you two,’’ Sandy echoed Squidward from earlier, then waved a hand at Patrick. ‘’Go on and ask me then.’’ ‘’Truth, or Dare?’’ Sandy just smiled. ‘’You know me. I always like a good dare.’’ Patrick smiled in return. ‘’Then I dare you, Sandra Jennifer Cheeks, to...um...’’ He looked around the room, searching for a naughty idea, when his eyes suddenly rested on SpongeBob. ‘’To kiss....um...’’ But at the last minute, he looked at Squidward and blurted out, ‘’Well, since he wanted to fuck you, I dare you to kiss Squidward Q. Tentacles! Sorry, I don’t know what the ‘Q’ stands for.’’ Squidward’s little bit of fun was suddenly crushed into dust. ‘’Oh, come on,’’ he pleaded. ‘’Why don’t you make her kiss SpongeBob? He’s asking for it!’’ ‘’Now, now, Squidward,’’ Sandy teased, ‘’It’s Patrick’s dare. He makes the rules.’’ As she came crawling towards him on her hands and knees, he instinctively backed away. Again, he was plagued by a bad memory of the time he was dared to kiss a girl who had previously been dared to lick a toilet seat. It was the least pleasant kiss he ever had. ‘’Stay back,’’ he said. ‘’I mean it...I, uh...’’ And he tried to come up with some lame excuse to get out of it. ‘’I didn’t want to bugger you for real, I just said that, you know. I think you’re repulsively ugly!’’ ‘’Uh huh,’’ she rolled her eyes. ‘’I-I had garlic for lunch!’’ ‘’And I had a rotten cantaloupe. I’m sure there’s no germs swimming in your mouth that can even come close,’’ she said as she continued to come nearer. ‘’Play nice, Sandy,’’ SpongeBob cautioned. ‘’I think you’re scaring him.’’ ‘’Oh, he’ll live,’’ she said, and finally grabbed him, pulling him into a kiss. He tried to close his mouth, but it was too late. He felt her slobbering all over his face, as though she were trying to eat him, and then he felt her try to expertly slip him the tongue. He pulled back and cried out, ‘’What the blazing Hell, woman?’’ while wiping her saliva from his face. Purple lipstick smears came off on his arm instead, causing SpongeBob and Patrick to howl like hyenas. Sandy only shrugged, not bothering to wipe away her smeared lipstick. ‘’Didn’t know you were such a stick in the mud. What are you, some kissless virgin?’’ ‘’And what are you?’’ Squidward shot back. ‘’Some rocky mountain savage? You kiss like a grizzly bear! And why does my mouth taste like nuts?’’ ‘’Oops,’’ Sandy snickered. ‘’I guess it wasn’t cantaloupe after all.’’ ‘’Whatever,’’ and he angrily turned to SpongeBob who was rolling on the floor with laughter. ‘’Well, spin, dammit!’’ ‘’Squidward, chill out, dude it’s just a game!’’ Patrick tried to reason. Oh, sure. To them it was just a game, but they had no idea what he had to go through. And the humiliation. Worse of all, he was so young and carefree back then. He wasn’t tired all the time. And he did have fun. He wanted so much to just let loose and have fun. Be a kid all over again with no worries in the world. Why couldn’t they see that? Why couldn’t they understand that someday they would be old and miserable, and this game would be a bad dream? But then suddenly, he remembered what SpongeBob had told him earlier, about reality versus perception. He didn’t think he had been listening, but he was suddenly reminded of those words. What did he say again? That when you’re swimming, it seems as though you’re standing still, even though you’re really moving? That time moves in the very same way, that it moves so slow, that you just don’t notice? And maybe that’s why he was so much happier twenty-nine years ago. He just didn’t notice. And how could he? Maybe that’s all it was. Life was like a plane ride. It didn’t seem to move at all. And before you know it, you reach your destination, and...what was that bit about the spider and the beetle? Something about life, and death, and struggle? Squidward shook his head. ‘Nonsense,’ he thought. ‘It’s all nonsense.’ He let out a sigh, feeling more calm now, and took his place in the circle. SpongeBob waited for everyone to settle down before he took his turn. He eagerly watched the bottle spiral around, until it stopped before Patrick. ‘’Okay, Patrick, Truth or Dare,’’ he chuckled. ‘’Dare,’’ Patrick responded, without a moment’s hesitation. SpongeBob raised an eyebrow. ‘’You sure?’’ ‘’Uhh...I don’t know...’’ Patrick furrowed his brow in confusion. ‘’Then I dare you to—‘’ ‘’Wait!’’ Patrick stopped him. ‘’I changed my mind. Truth!’’ ‘’Is that your final answer?’’ SpongeBob laughed. Patrick began to sweat a little as he struggled to make a decision. ‘’Wait...I dunno, this question’s too hard.’’ Squidward was growing increasingly irritated watching this exchange unfold like some ping-pong match that would never end. ‘’Oh, stop confusing him, and just let him choose what he wants,’’ Squidward cut in. He couldn’t stand the way SpongeBob played with Patrick’s stupidity, although he meant no harm. Still, it wasn’t right to take advantage of a simpleton. He didn’t know any better. ‘’Alright,’’ SpongeBob agreed. ‘’Patrick, it’s your call, buddy.’’ ‘’Uh, Dare...I guess.’’ That’s it, Patrick. Play it cool. SpongeBob grinned from ear to ear. ‘’I dare you to go into your kitchen and rearrange everything in the food pantry... in alphabetical order.’’ They waited for SpongeBob to deliver the catch, but apparently, he had nothing more to add. That was it? What a lame dare. On the contrary, Patrick reacted as though the world was ending. ‘’All of it?’’ he asked. ‘’All of it.’’ Patrick looked like he would melt into a puddle right there and then. It was at that point he probably realized that any kissing question was better than this. ‘’I can’t do it,’’ he said. ‘’Then do you choose Truth?’’ This is how the game always goes. You just can’t win. Patrick swallowed hard, then nodded. ‘’Yeah. Truth.’’ Squidward didn’t know why, but he felt a little sorry for Patrick. There was always going to be one in the group who got the short end of the stick. But maybe SpongeBob would go easy on him. They were best friends, after all, so SpongeBob couldn’t possibly ask him anything he knew would upset him. SpongeBob considered for a moment, before asking, ‘’Do you think you’ll get married someday?’’ Patrick just blushed and stuttered, ‘’I-I guess...I mean...I don’t think I’d find anyone...special enough...but...sure...I guess...maybe it’d be nice...but...I don’t know...there’s not too many people that I...well...’’ Squidward found himself studying Patrick as his face grew redder by the second. He was visibly embarrassed by the question. Kids these days, even twenty-somethings, were always thinking of getting married and having kids of their own someday. Settling down, if you will. Becoming their parents. It was weird and scary. Squidward knew right off the bat that at Patrick’s age, he wasn’t going to get married. ‘’Oh, you’ll change your mind,’’ they said. Look at him now. Still a swinging bachelor. Sure, Squidward had to admit there were times he considered himself a hopeless romantic. But he was pretty set in his ways. He didn’t want to end up like his parents, not at all. SpongeBob could see that the ‘’Truth’’ was making Patrick feel a tad uncomfortable, and so he reached for his friend, squeezing his hand. ‘’It’s okay, Patrick,’’ SpongeBob reassured. ‘’You don’t have to say more than that.’’ Sandy decided that now was the opportunity to take her turn once more, and she spun the bottle. It landed on Patrick again, by all strange accounts. Patrick hadn’t fully recovered from his prior awkwardness and stood abruptly to excuse himself. ‘’Um, sorry, I gotta get...some air...uh, it’s not like, I’m having hot flashes, by the way,’’ and he left the three of them alone. ‘’Er, I can take his turn for him,’’ SpongeBob said. ‘’Fine by me,’’ Sandy nodded. ‘’Truth or Dare?’’ ‘’Dare.’’ Squidward stopped paying attention after that. He quickly realized that he was far too old and far too pessimistic for this sort of thing. He kept thinking about why Patrick acted so strangely to a simple question, but then he remembered how delicate he had been when he was young. Sure, SpongeBob didn’t mean to embarrass his friend, his intentions were purely innocent. He couldn’t have known how nervous Patrick would get. Hell, if he had been Patrick, he probably would have run out of the room, too. He had, actually, only on someone else’s turn. Maybe now it wasn’t just a game? Sure, the fun of the game was to ask each other silly questions, and no one would tell if you were being completely honest or not if you hid it well enough, so you could answer however you pleased, but some questions might run on a more personal level, triggering something that shouldn’t be triggered. Squidward had no idea that he was actually putting his own future on the line, and when he couldn’t live up to those expectations that he set for himself in a game twenty-nine years later, he began to despise the game, as though it was the game’s fault. Well, he had to blame something. Laughter interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to find SpongeBob standing on his head, and trying, but failing, to touch his nose with the tip of his tongue while singing the alphabet backwards. ‘’C’mon, you’re pathetic!’’ Sandy cried. ‘’Z, Y, X, W, V, uh...S...oh shit,’’ SpongeBob faltered, then started again. ‘’Z, Y, X, W, V...U...’’ he almost got his tongue to his chin, but not quite. ‘’Where was I? U, T, S, R...um...’’ ‘’Keep going,’’ Sandy encouraged. Alas, he got all the way up to ‘M’, before he had to start over again. Squidward just continued to observe them. He didn’t know why they invited him to begin with. He always felt a tad out of place hanging out with a bunch of kids. Was watching them supposed to remind him of his youth and make him feel younger? Because in truth, he felt more tired and old just watching them. He just couldn’t keep up. And though they often protested that he wasn’t old, that wasn’t the point. He felt his age, maybe older. ‘’What’d I miss?’’ Patrick said as he returned, and took a seat beside Squidward. ‘’Not much,’’ Squidward admitted. After fifteen more seconds, SpongeBob could stand on his head no longer and gave up. But at least he finally managed to touch his nose with his tongue, even though he couldn’t sing the entire alphabet backwards. ‘’Don’t tell me I made that look easy,’’ SpongeBob laughed, and held his head between his hands, which was no doubt spinning. ‘’That was hard!’’ Squidward remembered it was his turn and reluctantly spun the bottle. Last round, then he would go home. He was sick of this game. The bottle, for a third time, favoured Patrick. He hoped Patrick would want to skip his turn again, but he looked eagerly at Squidward, and so Squidward had to ask the same old question, although he didn’t really ask, he groaned, ‘’Truth, or Dare?’’ ‘’Dare, this time.’’ Did Patrick learn nothing? Squidward pouted. ‘’I dare you to skip your turn.’’ Then he stood and announced, ‘’I’m going home. Thanks but no thanks. ‘Night.’’ ‘’Oh, c’mon, Squidward, you can’t quit now!’’ they whined. ‘’It’s only 10:00!’’ ‘’Yeah, exactly, normal people are in bed at this hour. I’m out,’’ and he made his way to the door. ‘’At least dare me before you leave,’’ Patrick pointed out. ‘’That’s not really fair, y’know.’’ Squidward rolled his eyes and turned back towards the group. ‘’Fine.’’ And he made direct eye contact with Patrick, hoping he would cower. ‘’I dare you, Patrick Star, to name your first child after the person to your right. There, happy now?’’ Patrick just blinked. ‘’That...wasn’t even a dare. That was just stupid.’’ ‘’You’re stupid, and I’m going home, now.’’ As he opened the door to step outside, he heard the bottle being spun on the floor, and Patrick’s voice saying, ‘’What do you know? You’re it, again, Squidward. Truth, or Dare?’’ ‘’How can that be?’’ Squidward demanded as he spun around again. ‘’I’m not even in the circle!’’ But sure enough, the neck of the bottle was pointing directly at him. ‘’Truth, or Dare?’’ Patrick asked again. ‘’I’m done!’’ ‘’I’ll let you go home if you answer.’’ ‘’Fine. Truth.’’ He didn't have time for silly dares. ‘’How many children would you have?’’ ‘’Oh for crying out loud,’’ Squidward said, slamming the bedroom door closed. ‘’Honestly, Patrick. Look at me. I’m fucking 45, do you think I’d be having kids at this age? I don’t need kids! I got the three of you dunderheads, and you’re a handful as it is!’’ The three of them just looked at him in stunned silence, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Finally, Sandy said, ‘’It’s just a game. Don’t have to get so pissy. But since you answered, you’re free to go.’’ The three remaining players turned back to each other and waited for SpongeBob to spin the bottle. Squidward was about to turn out for yet a third time when he heard Sandy go, ‘’Oh…well, I guess you can spin again since Squidward’s not playing anymore.’’ Squidward glanced over his shoulder and saw the bottle pointing at him again. Was the thing cursed? SpongeBob began to reach for the bottle again when Squidward stopped him. ‘’No,’’ he said. ‘’Just ask me again, and I’ll be on my way.’’ Why Squidward wanted to continue playing, even after all that, he had no idea. But something about the way the bottle kept stopping at him made him all the more curious. SpongeBob just looked at him for a moment before he said, ‘’Truth, or Dare?’’ ‘’Truth.’’ ‘’Do you hate this game?’’ ‘’Yes,’’ Squidward admitted. ‘’Yes, I loathe it. I despise it. It’s supposed to make me feel young? What a laugh. I just feel old playing it. I feel old, and behind the times, and…and I don’t know why I came. It just brings back bad memories.’’ He watched as SpongeBob spun the bottle again, and unsurprisingly, it pointed at Squidward. ‘’Truth, or Dare?’’ ‘’Truth.’’ ‘’Why did you come then?’’ ‘’I don’t know,’’ Squidward sighed. ‘’I just wanted to feel a part of something. Y’know, join the world of the living! Geez, I live my life dying. The three of you get to have fun. But where’s my fun? It’s just a game to you…but to me…it’s more than that. I answered things about myself…twenty-nine years ago…that didn’t turn out to be true. And I…well, it hurts, SpongeBob. It hurts. And to see you all laughing…and having fun…but I can’t do that anymore. Because I know what’s ahead. And you don’t. You have no idea.’’ Again, SpongeBob took another turn on the bottle, and again, it landed on Squidward. He didn’t even ask this time. Instead he just blurted out, ‘’Even if you didn’t know what was ahead, would you regret it? Would you regret playing this game when you were 16?’’ ‘’SpongeBob,’’ Sandy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘’He only gets five ‘Truths’ and he’s answered three already. Just let him go home.’’ But SpongeBob wouldn’t stop staring Squidward down until he answered. Squidward just swallowed back a lump in his throat. ‘’I guess not. I guess I don’t regret it.’’ ‘’Why?’’ ‘’Because…because now I know things about myself then, I didn’t know before. Sometimes I wish…even then that I could see the future. Maybe I would have answered differently. Maybe I would have done things I wouldn’t have done now. But I guess no one can see the future, can they?’’ SpongeBob was about to spin the bottle yet again, but there was no use for it now. Instead, he just asked, ‘’Reality is truth. Reality, however, is not always known.’’ ‘’Or noticed,’’ Squidward pointed out. ‘’While it’s true that everyone perceives reality differently, reality could care less about our perceptions.’’ ‘’So when you’re asked ‘Truth’, is truth reality, or is reality truth?’’ ‘’I don’t know how to answer that,’’ Squidward whimpered. ‘’Because…it’s just a struggle. Like that…story you told me…about the spider and the beetle. I didn’t know what it meant…but now I guess it makes sense. The problem arises…when people…stubborn people like me…refuse to accept the reality…like that beetle. He wouldn’t accept his fate. He kept fighting. And you saved him…but like Sandy said, maybe you shouldn’t have. Because then how…how does life continue if we’re always interfering? It can’t be created or altered. It is what it is. We can’t always be delivered from it, because we have to discover it.’’ Squidward didn’t even know what he was talking about anymore. But something about the way SpongeBob looked at him with unwavering strength in his eyes caused him to burst into tears. ‘’Actions have consequences,’’ he cried, ‘’And I ignored it for so long. Because the truth is harsh, and I didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. I’d like to have fun like you guys…I’d like to play again like a child… I wish my little self-delusive world wouldn’t be upset by such a trivial matter as truth. I don’t want to worry about the consequences I may have to deal with tomorrow; I just want to feel good today. Like all of you. It’s not fair...because I perceived my life so differently...and this is the reality...and it’s not what I imagined it to be. Twenty-nine years ago, I assumed I’d be happy today. I didn’t know I was deceiving myself...I didn’t know...anything...’’ He could speak no more because his tears had choked him up. He didn’t care if they were watching him anymore. He felt like a 16-year-old all over again and buried his face in his hands, and wept and wept. It wasn’t long before he felt warm arms wrap around him. It took him a moment to realize there were six arms around him. Six, of all different shapes and sizes. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself in the embrace of his friends, or at least the only people who considered themselves to be his friends. And they were all crying with him. They probably didn’t even know why. They probably didn’t even comprehend his nonsensical ramblings, but their hearts went out to him. They empathized. For some reason, they wanted to suffer with him. Why would a bunch of people with their whole lives ahead of them care about the existential crisis of a middle-aged man? But maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe that’s why they asked him to play with them. They just wanted him to be with them, in the same way they were with him now. And he was too preoccupied with wallowing in self pity of better days that he failed to realize that. Again, he just didn’t notice. So maybe his life didn’t turn out the way he planned. But at least now he had friends who cared enough. He couldn’t say that when was he was 16. Back then, he had no friends, so was he really happier after all? Maybe he got this whole reality versus perception mixed up. It wasn’t the principal of reality versus perception. It was reality versus the perception of reality. Twenty-nine years ago, he perceived his life to be happier, despite the reality that he was alone. Twenty-nine years later, he perceived his life to be awful, despite the reality that he had friends. Damn it all, he perceived wrong. He could have been happy this whole time. But much like swimming, he just didn’t notice, because much like time, it seemed to move too slow, when in reality, it was passing by all along. And he refused to accept it. He refused to get caught in that spider’s web. He was accepting it now. Because now he was trapped in the embrace of a six-armed monster, and he didn’t want it to let go. The beetle couldn’t accept death. That was fine. Who does? But the web was his reality. And this was Squidward’s reality. He had been deluding himself this whole time. Trying to make it through life without a solid grasp of reality is like stumbling around in a dark room laden with land mines. He didn’t want to be like that. Maybe it was time to question everything and be willing to give up cherished notions, even if it meant suffering discomfort. But as long as he could still have friends, wouldn’t his life be a little more fulfilling if he could admit responsibility for his poor life choices? At least he would be satisfied, if not entirely happy. Slowly, he lifted his arms and willed himself to return the embrace of his friends. They all seemed to stop crying, and so did he. No words were needed. A silent understanding seemed to pass between them. They decided to stop playing the game, and they didn’t need to ask questions. Around 11:30 that same night, they all sat down in SpongeBob’s living room to watch a movie instead, and Squidward could safely say he finally felt content. He felt content to just be with them, and maybe that’s all he needed. Maybe they didn’t completely understand all that life threw at him, and maybe they’d find out someday. But as long as they could all keep an open mind of what was to come, they would have the courage to accept it. The one thing that will never be affected by our respective views of reality is reality itself. And the reality was that they were together, right now, at this very moment, and so nothing else mattered. Fin

#my fanfiction #the spongebob musical #spongebob

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lindseyluvsdrag · 7 years ago

Text

Afterbirth Part 1

Aesthetic by @xximagoddamnmermaidxx

TW: Smut

6 months old, December 24th

---

Susan watched with judgmental eyes as Violet carefully applied the organic diaper rash cream to Clark's inner thighs.

“I don't know why you're paying $89 for a two ounce tube of shit that probably works as well as the $3.99 jar.”

“Because,” a clearly agitated Violet emphasized, “I don't want to just put random chemicals on my baby. I use organic and natural products only.”

“Well, I used the $3.99 jar on Matty and he turned out just fine.”

Violet scoffed. “Matthew claims that he can smell colors. I don't know what fried his brain, but it won't happen to Clark.”

“Yeah, with organic diapers that probably gave her the rash in the first place.”

“All babies get diaper rash at least once,” she said in exasperation. “Anything that irritates their sensitive skin: frequent bowel movements, chafing from the friction- don't act like I'm a bad mother, Susan.”

The woman defensively raised her hands. “I didn't say that. I just think you're wasting money.”

“It's my money! If I want to ‘waste’ it on my baby, then I can!”

Fresh out of the shower and still covered in a few suds, Matt swiftly descended the stairs as he secured the towel around his waist. “What's going on?”

“Your mother is judging my parenting skills!”

“Am not! I just said that organic products are unnecessary. Matty, you turned out fine with chemicals, snack cakes and full sodium foods. You've had so much sodium in your life that you could probably crap a salt lick.”

“I don't even…want that imagery,” Matt grumbled as she shook his head. “Mom, just please let Violet do her thing.”

“So I can't have an input on my only child's child?”

“You can have opinions, but don't judge her.”

“These are my opinions!”

“But it's not constructive criticism. It just comes across as attacking,” Violet retorted.

Susan scoffed. “You're just sensitive.”

Violet exploded so the woman shouted back, effectively startling the baby who immediately began to wail.

“Look at what you did,” Violet groaned as she cradled Clark before storming up the stairs. “When you're ready to apologize, we'll be in the nursery!” She slammed the door closed behind her.

“Good job, Mom,” Matt whispered as he rushed to remove the small box from its secret hiding spot in the grits box before dropping it into the pink stocking hanging on the mantle above the fireplace embroidered 'Violet’.

“Why do you have to play on Violet's hatred for me to manipulate her? Why can't you just propose like a normal person?”

“Ssshhhh!” he desperately hushed. “I've planned this thing, step by step, for weeks. She's mad now and maybe Clark got a little scared but it'll all be worth it once she sees the ring.”

“Can I see that thing again? Are you sure she'll like it?”

Matt grabbed the box and ushered his mother behind the massive evergreen that Violet and Clark had covered in shimmery pink ornaments. He lifted the lid.

“Yeah... I don't know, Matty,” Susan said as she assessed the custom made heart ring with an 'L’ stamped into the middle of it. “It's certainly not... traditional.”

“We’re not a traditional couple so, of course not. She will have the imprint and I'll have the imprintee.”

“Huh?”

“Have you ever seen the rings Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy on SpongeBob have? They interlock like puzzle pieces or something! My ring will have an ‘L’ and it'll match perfectly to this one so that when we fist bump, it'll be all matchy and romanticcc.”

“What's the 'L’ stand for? Lent?”

“Love, Mom! God, keep up!” Matt returned the box to Violet's stocking and gave his mother a giddy look before going stoic. “Now, to repair the 'damage’ you've done,” he joked before rushing up the stairs two steps at a time. He opened the door to the nursery but froze when he heard a sobbing Violet venting to their baby.

“God, I just feel so fucking trapped sometimes. I love you, Clark but why did Matthew have to be your father? I just can't fucking stand Susan. He doesn't even stand up to her. Like, are you even a fucking man? I don't regret you, baby, but why the fucking Lents? It's just, ugh.”

Matt pulled the door to a soft close and returned down the stairs.

“Well, that was fast,” Susan said. “Wait, what are you doing?” she asked as she watched Matt snatch the small box from Violet's stocking prior to storming into the nearest bathroom and flushing the symbol of love down the toilet. “Matty, wha-”

“The only reason I'm with that woman is for Clark's sake,” he sniveled. The declaration was made to protect his own feelings as the tears began to brew. Before they could, Matt rushed out of the back door to be with his dogs.

“Once he's with the boys, let him be,” Susan mumbled as a reminder to give the man his space. ---

“No, I don't mean that,” Violet sighed as she wiped her eyes. “I'm still shaking this postpartum shit off and I swear that I love you and your father and I wouldn't change either of you for the world. I just...ugh, I hate being so emotional, you know?”

Clark reached up and grabbed her mother's nose.

The woman smiled. “I love you too.”

---

Once the baby was down for her nap, Violet slowly descended the stairs into the living room.

Susan glanced at her. “I'm sorry for being such a judgemental bitch. I'll keep all future opinions to myself. If I want to raise another baby, I should have one instead of forcing my dated ideals onto you,” she robotically recited.

Violet folded her arms. “Thank you, but you have to apologize to Clark as well.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Will do.”

“Where's Matthew?”

“Out back.”

“He's in the snow with no clothes on?!”

“The dog house.”

“Oh…” Violet knew that it was serious when the man opted to spend time in the dog mansion that he'd built for his buddies rather than attempting to sneak them into the basement while her head was turned. The woman geared herself in a coat, cap and boots before rushing out of the back door. She sloshed through the foot of fluffy snow until she reached the heated dog playhouse. “Hey,” she greeted, closing the door behind her.

“Where's Clark?” Matt asked without looking at her.

“Napping. You okay?”

“I'm fine,” the man said coldly. “Here, Loki,” he cooed as he blew kisses. “Heyyy, buddy.”

“You don't look fine,” Violet replied.

“Then break up with me,” Matt said nonchalantly.

The woman made a face. “I meant that you're in a blizzard with nothing on but a towel, not that you're not ‘fine’ as in attractive. You know that could never be the case,” she said suggestively. “You're sexy, babe.”

“Dr. Doom, be niceee.” He laughed. “Oh, you guys kill me.”

Never the one to be ignored for an animal, Violet stormed over and stood in front of her boyfriend. “What's your problem?”

“I don't have a problem.”

She pouted. “You're ignoring me.”

“Oh, boo fucking hoo. You're not the center of attention for once. Go cry about it, or better yet, dump me.”

“Matthew, I don't want to dump you! Why do you keep saying that?!”

Matt thought about Clark. “I'm sorry,” he sighed. “I'm just under a lot of stress at work.”

“Really? I thought you loved your job.”

“Of course I do. Doesn't mean that there isn't the competition of the next guy trying to come along and take your spot.”

“Oh.” She softly grazed her fingernails along his hand. “Is there anything I can do to help you relieve some stress?”

“You could leave me alone with my boys.”

“Shit, true. Doing it in front of dogs isn't cute. I'll see you inside?”

Matt nodded. “Unless I get blessed with invisibility.”

Violet laughed, stole a kiss and rushed out of the front door. Loki followed her out of the doggie entrance flap but quickly returned inside when he was reminded of the snow.

The man chuckled. “See? Don't chase women. They do nothing but lie, freeze you out and break your heart.”

---

With a little wine, lit candles and sexy holiday lingerie, Violet was thoroughly prepared for Matt when he finally returned inside.

“Ho, ho, ho,” she said seductively.

Matt couldn't deny that the woman looked amazing and he couldn't fight his manly urges, so when Violet beckoned him over, he complied.

---

“Oh my God, Matthewwww,” Violet moaned as the man aggressively slammed into her from the behind. She wasn't used to his masculine grunts or him roughly tugging on her hair, but she definitely wasn't complaining. “Fuck, babe! It's all yours!” Violet squealed as her legs began to tremble in the midst of her Earth shattering orgasm while Matt panted as she filled his condom.

After pulling out and cleaning up, Violet was used to cuddling so it took her by surprise when Matt rolled onto his side away from her and went straight to sleep.

“I love you,” she whispered.

The man replied with a snore.

---

“And then he just fell asleepppp,” Violet whined into the phone.

“Maybe he was just really tired, Vi,” Naomi said in attempt to calm her friend. “Was the sex bad?”

“No! It was the best it's been since I was pregnant, maybe even better but there wasn't any intimacyyyy.”

“So would you rather have lackluster, cuddle sex or cold, amazing sex?”

Violet sniffled as scheduled thought. “Cold and amazing,” she finally rushed. “Sorry for bothering you with this nonsense.”

“It's not nonsense, we all need a push towards the obvious choice sometimes.”

---

On Christmas morning, everyone was up bright and early. Clark was showered in so many trinkets and toys that she didn't know what she wanted to play with first. When the six month old was occupied by the plush Superman blanket that her father had given her, it forced her parents to interact.

“She looks so happy,” Violet sighed. “That's all I ever wanted, for her to be happy.”

“Me too.”

The woman smiled at her boyfriend. “Having both her parents here makes all the difference.”

“Agreed,” Matt said as he entered the verbal agreement that made him tolerate a woman that he didn't think loved him for the sake of his child.

Violet held the fresh mistletoe over Matt's head. “Oh, wow what do we have here?”

The man chuckled. If the beautiful woman wanted to pretend to be in love with him, he didn't see a problem with going along with it. Matt wrapped his arms around Violet and pulled her into a kiss.

---

2 years old

“Are you ready Clark?” Violet asked as she compulsively adjusted her daughter's dress and curls. “You have to smile big when you go down the aisle. And try to throw the flowers as evenly as you can. Okay?”

“I'm going to throw them everywhere!”

“No, baby, you can'tttttt. You have to make it nice and neat for Aunt Naomi and Auntie Raven, okay?”

“But I want to go crazy!” she giggled.

“Fine,” Violet sighed. “They knew what they were getting themselves into when they asked you to be the flower girl.”

“I'm the best flower girllll.”

“Of course you are, my love,” she said as grabbed the girl's hand and led her to the room where Naomi was getting dressed.

“Hi, Aunt Naomi!” Clark greeted excitedly. “You look so prettyyyy.”

“Aww, thank you, CC! So do you!”

The toddler spun in her puffy white taffeta dress and nearly toppled over.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” Violet pleaded.

“I ammmm.”

She looked at her friend and immediately became emotional. “Naomi, you look...so amazing. I couldn't imagine a more perfect dress.”

The woman gave a slow spin in her simple, fitted boat neckline dress. The draped cowl back gave the classic look some sex appeal and it was phenomenal on her flawless, statuesque figure.

“When we were five years old, did you ever imagine this day?”

“No,” Naomi said honestly through misty eyes. “And especially not to a woman,” she laughed.

Violet chuckled. “Raven’s not just any woman. You guys have been through so much together and you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“Awww,” Naomi said as she wrapped her arms around her best friend. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Let's go get married.”

“Me too! Me too!” Clark cheered.

---

Raven anxiously waited at the altar in her fashion forward ivory jumpsuit with a plunging neckline until she heard the music that queued Violet down the aisle. As both maid of honor and the best friend of several years, the woman desperately wanted her Pippa Middleton moment. She slowly slinked towards the altar in a skin tight, sheer dress that only had delicately placed beaded embroidery to cover up her naughty parts, but the dress still left nothing to the imagination.

She winked at Matt and he smiled from his seat. Next down the aisle was Clark who marched in her ballerina flats as she, to her mother's dismay, tossed her white rose petals all over the place.

“Is it pretty?!” the toddler asked.

“Awww,” people said collectively. “Yes!”

Clark beamed from ear to ear as she continued and when she passed her father, she made sure to sprinkle a generous amount of petals on him.

“Now you're pretty,” she whispered before rushing to her spot next to Violet.

“Did I do good?”

“It was so good,” her mother assured.

“Here have some.” Clark scooped out more petals and offered them to her mother.

“No, no. You keep them in your basket...niceee and neat.”

Moments later, Naomi was walked down the aisle by her father who initially didn't understand her being transgender, but now he was definitely confused by his transgender daughter marrying a woman. But the man loved her enough to bite his tongue and support whatever she decided to do, even if she wouldn't take him up on the last minute offer to skip town in his Corvette.

He gave her away and the floodgates that were opened when the couple began to recite their vows didn't leave a dry eye in the house.

After the ceremony, Violet watched her friends first dance with a melancholy heart.

“What's wrong, Mommy?” Clark asked when she approached.

“Hm?” Violet turned to look at her daughter and nearly screamed at the sight of blue frosting that covered the girl's hands and area around her mouth. The woman pulled out her wipes and immediately went into cleaning mode.

“Are you sad, Mommy?” Clark asked again.

“No,” Violet sighed. “I'm just...do you know that you're two years old now?”

“Yes.”

“So that means I've been with your father for nearly three years.”

“That's a lotta years!”

“I knowww and…” Violet leaned in, “we haven't even talked about marriage.”

“Marriage?!” Clark squealed in excitement. “You wanna marry Daddy?!”

“Sssshhhhhh!” she hushed as she looked around. When she saw Matt at the bar, she exhaled and turned back to Clark. “Of course I want to marry your father. I love him.”

“Well then he needs to marry you so that I can put on another pretty dress.”

Violet frowned. “All of the dresses that I buy you are pretty.”

“Yes but I never get to wear them to weddings.”

She smiled. “Touche. Hey, listen, don't tell your father about this conversation, okay? You've always been my little confidant. Hell, I've been venting to you ever since you were a baby. Let's keep it a secret.”

“I can keep a secret,” Clark assured.

Violet kissed her head and finished wiping the last bits of frosting off of her daughter. “Thank you.”

“I have to get more cupcakes nowwww.”

The woman made a face before relenting. “Take these with you.” She gave Clark the wipes and watched her as she made her way to the dessert table. Clark grabbed two cupcakes and skipped towards her father.

“Here, Daddy!”

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart!”

Matt lifted the girl and placed her on the counter. Once he accepted his cupcake, they toasted with the baked goods and took a big bite out of each them.

“Are you having fun?” he asked.

“Yes. I like weddings. That's why you and Mommy should get married.”

Matt's eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Clark nodded.

“What if I told you that I wanted to marry your mommy a long time ago but she said no?”

The girl gasped. “No way!”

“Yes way! Well, kind of. I just heard her say some things once and,” he sighed, “I just know she doesn't want to marry me.”

Clark frowned. “But she loves you.”

Matt grabbed his daughter and began to tickle her. “You know who loves who? I love you and that's all that matters!”

The girl giggled as she squirmed. “Heyyyy, you're driving me coconuts!”

Matt cackled and gave his daughter a firm squeeze before kissing her head. “Just because your mom and I aren't married, doesn't mean that I don't love you.”

“But you guys kisssss. Doesn't that mean you love each other?”

Matt cleared his throat. “Um, yes. I do love her bu-”

“You both love each other! People who love each other get married!”

“I'll think about it, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, ladiesss,” Naomi said into the microphone. “Who's going to catch my bouquet?”

Matt watched as Violet elbowed her way to the front of the crowd.

“3...2...1!” Naomi tossed the flowers over her head and Violet practically shoved a middle aged woman to the ground in order to catch them.

“Yayyyy, Mommy!” Clark cheered.

Violet raised her arms in victory before she glanced over at her family. She gave Matt a soft smile and the man sighed as he turned his attention back to the bartender. “Can I get another shot?”

“Can I have a shot?” Clark asked as she batted her long lashes.

“Yeah, a shot of milk, little lady.”

“I'll take that.”

---

Matt carried his milk and cupcake wasted child into the house as Violet followed suit.

“Give her to me. I'll wash her up before you put her in bed.”

“She's already sleeping, you can bathe her in the morning.”

“Matthew, I'm not putting my child into bed sticky and dirty.”

“Violet,” he retorted with attitude, “I'm not going to let you wake her to bathe her and make her cranky just for you to get frustrated and have me come in to fix it. Going to bed a little sticky will not kill either of you.”

“No, but I'm this close to killing you,” she retorted.

Matt scoffed. “You probably would, psycho. And then clean up the crime scene like I never lived here to begin with.”

“I wish you didn't live here.” The woman didn't mean it, but her pride never failed to get in the way when the couple argued.

“Oh, tell me something I don't know. You never wanted me around and I don't even know why you bothered to fake it all these years.”

“Fake what? I've never been fake in my life!”

“Fake the obvious lie that you love me! I know that you'd rather have anyone be Clark's father but me. That shit hurts but I fucking stuck around because I don't trust you. If we broke up, you'd probably take her away from me and God only knows who you'd have around her playing 'daddy’.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

Clark stirred and whimpered in her sleep.

“Just shut up,” Matt hissed before going up the stairs. He entered his daughter's room and placed her in her princess canopy bed prior to tiptoeing out. The second that he closed door, he was caught off guard by Violet's hand slapping him across the face.

“Don't you ever tell me to shut up!”

The man simply pursed his lips and descended the stairs.

Violet quickly followed him. “Matthew, I'm sorry,” she offered. “You're saying that I'm fake and that I don't love you and I don't know where that's even coming from.”

“So you hit me,” he chirped sarcastically. “

Brilliant logic.”

“I’m sorryyy,” she sniffled.

“Yeah, you are.” Matt grabbed the bourbon from the cabinet. “But not as sorry as you will be, love,” he said as he dropped the bottle and let it crash on the floor.

“What are you doing?!”

The man began to pull anything and everything he could get his hands on to the floor, making the biggest mess possible. Dishes, food and even the paintings on the wall were sent crashing to the hardwood in the man's rage fueled tantrum.

“Matthew, stop!” Violet pleaded.

Matt smashed a jar of pickles against the wall. “Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it!” the man said sarcastically. “I'll just hurt your feelings or slap you and then take it all back because I didn't mean it!” He paused to catch his breath before knocking the toaster over. “And then I'll leave you to pick up the pieces.” Matt stormed out of the room leaving Violet to sob and hyperventilate over the enormous mess.

Matt made his way up the stairs and froze when he saw Clark in the doorway of her bedroom.

“Is there a hur-a-cane?” she groggily asked as she rubbed her eyes.

“No, baby, there's not a hurricane. Go back to bed.”

“I don't wanna go back to beddd.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“Paint.”

“Arts and crafts, huh?”

---

Violet cried until she was able to compose herself enough to trek to her cleaning closet. She opened the door and frowned when she didn't see her hazmat suit. Violet heard Clark giggle.

“I like this one, Daddy!”

The woman rushed up the stairs, opened the door to her daughter's bedroom and screamed when she saw that the father/daughter duo had cut her hazmat suit to shreds so that they could use it for their artwork.

“Look, Mommy, I made you a flower,” the girl said excitedly as she rushed to hand over the bundle of glitter covered hazmat plastic.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Matthew,” Violet said through a clenched jaw. “May I speak to you outside for a second?”

“Nope.”

“We're busy, Mommy.”

“Clark Christine Lent, was I speaking to you?”

The girl pouted. “No.”

“Precisely, therefore I didn't need your input. And look! You've got glitter and paint in your carpet! What did I tell you about using that stuff in your room?!”

“But Daddy, said it was okay,” Clark sniveled.

“It is okay,” Matt said nonchalantly as he grabbed the bottle of blue paint and squeezed a glob into the light colored carpet.

Violet swore that she heard something inside of her snap. She calmly made her way downstairs, grabbed her phone and called her sister.

“Hello?”

“Rose, do you think Clark can spend the night with you? I don't want her to see this.”

“See what?”

“Me killing her father.”

---

A few minutes later, Rose arrived and Clark was ushered towards the front door.

“Wait, you didn't ask me if it was okay if Clark could go somewhere,” Matt said.

“But I want to go, Daddyyyy,” the toddler whined.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I'll miss you.”

“I know.”

“You know?!” he asked dramatically as he pulled the giggling girl into his arms. “See you later, munchkin.”

The second that Clark rushed out of the door with Rose, Matt was ambushed by Violet jumping onto his back and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What the-”

“Die, motherfucker!”

The man dropped to his knees and when her chokehold began to cut off his air supply, he purposefully drooled on her arm; a surefire way to get her to let go.

“Eww!” Violet squealed as she released and then shoved the man before pulling him into a headlock.

Matt grabbed the woman's thighs and pinched them as hard as he could.

“Owww!”

“Let me go,” he wheezed.

“Not until you're dead! Now apologize for making such a huge fucking mess!”

“Kiss my ass!”

Violet tightened her grip on the man's neck while he twisted the sensitive skin on her thighs even harder. They both groaned out in pain and demanded for the other to give up when Clark burst back into the house, pausing when she saw them.

“Clark, baby,” Violet panted in a shaky voice. “What are you doing back?”

“I forgot Lex Luthor,” she said as she grabbed her teddy bear while her eyes stayed curiously fixated on her parents. “Is this what Mommy and Daddy time looks like?”

“...Yes,” her mother replied unconvincingly.

“Okay. Have fun!” she cheered before rushing back out, closing the front door behind her.

Her parents sighed in relief before their quarrel continued.

“Say uncle!” Violet shouted.

“As soon as you let me go!”

“Never!”

Violet swung her arm and delivered a punch to Matt's face. The man couldn't believe that she'd hit him like that. Completely annoyed, he used his arms to knock Violet on her ass and with her arms still wrapped around his neck, she took Matt with her.

The man bit into the woman's left boob and she hollered as she finally let go.

“You fucking animal!”

“You punched me!”

Violet attempted to swing again, but Matt slammed her arms against the hardwood.

“Oww,” she whined.

“Stop trying to hit me in the fucking face!”

“You're getting out of control! You and Clark drew on the walls: Fine. I let it go and we played in the water. But then you let her go to bed all sticky, look at what you did to the kitchen! And worst of all, my hazmat suit! You went too fucking far, Matthew!”

“No, going too far is having a baby by someone you don't even love!”

Violet's bottom lip began to quiver. “You don't love me?”

“You don't love me!” he shouted as he pushed away from her. “I remember it like it was yesterday! Christmas Eve, two years ago, Clark was like six months old. You were fighting with my Mom and you stormed upstairs with the baby. I go up there to see if you're okay and you said, and I'll never fucking forgot it, ‘I just feel so fucking trapped sometimes. I love you, Clark but why did Matthew have to be your father?’”

Violet didn't recall saying it, but she didn't put it past herself as something she'd say while upset.

“Who else would be her fucking father?!” he shouted as he punched the wall, effectively leaving a fist sized hole. “Without me, she wouldn't even be Clark and you wouldn't have that amazing little girl as a daughter! Bitch!” the man fumed as he released two years of pent up anger and resentment. “I've stayed this long for the baby, but fuck it. I can't live like this anymore.”

At this point, the woman was sobbing but she managed to get her words out clearly. “Matthew, this is all some big misunderstanding, okay? You have to believe that.”

Matt rolled his eyes as he made his way up the stairs and quickly Violet followed him, barely catching the door in time so that he couldn't lock her out. She watched in pain as the man began to pack.

“What are you doing?” she sniveled.

“I’m leaving.”

“Matthew, you can't do that. What about Clark?”

“I'd prefer it if my child grew up with parents who hate each other rather than no parents because one is dead and the other is in jail for their murder.”

“But we do love each other!” Violet cried. “Nobody wants to murder anybody.”

“Speak for yourself,” he grumbled as he messily tossed the rest of his things into his luggage. He locked it, snatched it up and began to make his way down stairs. “I'll be back to see Clark tomorrow.”

“But you can see her all the time if you just stayed! Matthew, I love you! What am I supposed to do without you?!”

Matt opened the front door but then paused, making Violet's teary eyes grow wide with hope.

“Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn,” he said coldly prior to continuing out of the door, leaving Violet to fall to the hardwood as her sobbing became uncontrollable then hysterical before she passed out on the foyer floor.

---

Violet had no idea what time it was when she crawled up the stairs, but when she found a mirror and saw the dark bags under her eyes, her matted curls, her uncountable bruises and ripped gown, the woman burst into tears all over again.

---

Matt strolled up to the hotel counter and the wide eyed receptionist reluctantly greeted him.

“Can I get a fucking room?” he asked.

“Umm...ye-yes. Should I call an ambulance as well?”

“Why would you call an-”

She held up her phone's reflective case and the man was finally able to see all the damage that Violet had done.

“Well damn,” he exhaled. “I didn't know that I was bleeding.” The man snatched a few Kleenex out of the box on the counter and placed them against his nose. “Bitch can't weigh more than 118 soaking wet and she manages to black my eye and put me into a fucking chokehold that almost made me black out. How was I supposed to react to that? I leave before I kill her, that's what I do,” the man angrily ranted to himself.

The receptionist slowly moved her hand to trigger the alarm, but she froze when Matt turned to look at her.

“I need a room for three nights,” he demanded.

“We’re all booked!” the woman shouted in fear before rushing out of the door behind the counter.

---

“She put you in a headlock?!” Shea asked over the FaceTime call before bursting into laughter.

Matt puffed out his marijuana smoke. “That's not funny!”

“It is though! I didn't think she had it in her.”

“She's a psychopath.”

“True, but you love her.”

Matt scoffed. “Fuck all the way off.”

“You do. You're just hurt over what happened and you held that in for so long that it's driving you crazy. But if you didn't love her, you wouldn't have given a fuck and you would've left a long time ago.”

“I stayed for the baby.”

“Oh, bullshit. I hate when people use their kids as an excuse to stay miserable. You stayed because you love her and you won't convince me otherwise. In fact, every time you call me, it's to talk shit and complain about her.”

The man took a puff of his blunt. “You look really pretty in that lighting.”

Shea rolled her eyes.

“Leave your boyfriend so we can get remarried.”

“You're funny.”

He chuckled as he blew out smoke. “I love you. Always have, always will.”

“Ditto, babe.”

“I'm going to try and get some sleep. I need strength in case she wants to go for a round two in the morning.”

“Take it easy on her. Wouldn't want to break your baby mama’s arm.”

Matt cackled. “Maybe I do.”

Shea simply shook her head and blew her ex-husband a kiss. “Later.”

---

“Please don't stain, please don't stain,” Violet whimpered as she scrubbed the tomato paste out of the hardwood. She heard the doorbell ring and reluctantly left the mess to go answer it.

“Oh my God,” Rose gasped when she saw the red spots on her sister's dress. “You really did it didn't you? That's his blood!”

“What? Oh- no! This is tomato paste, I'm cleaning.”

“Violet, you can be honest with me. If you did do it, let's get you out of the country now.”

“Matthew is alive...but I don't know if I am,” she sniffled. “He left.”

Rose pulled her sister into an embrace. “It'll be okay.”

“Mommy, Mommy!” Clark shouted as she rushed inside, followed by Clover. “I had waffles and Clover and me made cookies! See!”

Violet quickly put on a happy expression but Clark knew better.

“That's wonderful, sweetheart. I'm sure those cookies taste amazingggg.”

“What's wrong, Mommy? What happened to your dress? You stayed in it the entire night?” she asked, knowing that it was strange for her mother to do such a thing.

“Yeah, I was really busy last night.”

“With Mommy and Daddy time?”

Rose and Clover made faces.

“We'll take Clark to get ice cream,” her aunt offered. “You want ice cream, Clark?”

“No, I want to stay with Mommy.”

Violet nodded, assuring her sister that everything would be okay.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No, we're fine. I'll see you guys later.”

The family shared hugs and kisses before Rose and Clover exited.

“Your dress is dirty, Mommy.”

“I know, sweetheart, it's okay. I'll get another.”

“Where is Daddy?”

“He's not here right now.”

“Are you mad at him?”

“Um…no.”

“Did you talk to him about a weddinggg?” she asked, large blue eyes full of hope.

“No,” Violet said honestly.

Clark frowned. “Grownups are so slow.”

Her mother laughed. “True. Let's go get cleaned up.”

“Can I pick you something to wear?”

“Of course, darling. And then we'll play the clean up game, okay?”

“Okay!” she chirped as she skipped along.

---

Matt took a deep breath as he made his way up the cobblestone path to the front door. With donuts in hand, he reluctantly entered his home and wasn't surprised by the floral scented cleaners that wafted through the air.

“Clark?” he called.

“Daddyyyy!”

The toddler came sprinting out of the living room and into her father's arms.

“Heyyy, princess!”

Clark gasped when she saw Matt's cuts and bruises. She placed both of her hands on her father's cheeks. “What happened to youuu?”

“I got into a fight.”

“With who?”

“Umm...Harley Quinn.”

Clark scowled. “I'll kick Harley Quinn's ass.”

Matt couldn't help but cackle. “Baby, don't say ass.”

“Well, if she kicked your ass, I'm gonna have to kick her ass.”

The man snorted. “Thank you, Clark. But say kick her butt because ass is a bad word.”

“Ohh...well, Mommy and I will both kick her butt! Mommy!”

“No, why are you calling her?” Matt rushed in a whisper.

“She has to see this and access this situation.”

“Access?” he chuckled at her misuse of the word.

“Yes! Mommyyyyyyy!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Matt intervened. “I brought you donuts.”

She paused. “Jelly ones?”

He scoffed dramatically. “Of course jelly ones.”

“Yayyyy!”

Matt sighed in relief over the girl's short attention span as he placed her to the floor and handed her the box.

Clark swiftly accepted the gift and ran to find her mother. “Mommyyyy, Daddy brought donuts!”

Matt groaned.

When her daughter rushed back into the living room, Violet closed her book. “What happened, sweetie?”

“Daddy brought donuts because Harley Quinn kicked his ass.”

“Clark Christine,” her mother chastised.

“I mean, kicked his butt. Look at his face, Mommy! You have to make his boo-boos better!” Clark waited for her father to round the corner, but when he didn't, she placed the donuts in Violet's hands and rushed around the corner. Matt was nowhere to be found. “Daddyyyy!” she shouted up the stairs. The man didn't respond, leaving the toddler with no choice but to cry as she rushed back to her mother.

Violet placed the donuts to the side. “What's wrong, Clark?”

“Daddy is gone! He's hurt and he's gone!” she sobbed.

The woman sighed. “Do you want me to call him?”

“Yes!”

Violet pulled out her cell phone and called the man who took at least six rings to answer.

“Hello?”

She quickly handed the phone to her daughter. “Hello? Daddy?” Clark sniveled.

There was nothing worse in this world to the man than hearing his daughter cry. It made him feel ten times as worse as Violet's tears used to, and it was truly his kryptonite.

“Baby, why are you crying?” he asked weakly.

“You left me!”

“No, I didn't, Clark. I'm in the driveway and I'm coming back into the house now.”

The girl dropped the phone and sprinted towards the front door, making perfect timing to jump into her father's arms. When she continued to sob, Matt squeezed her even tighter.

“Baby, I'd never, ever, ever, ever, leave you without saying goodbye. Do you know that?”

“Yes,” she sniffled. “But you upset meeee.”

The words felt like a dagger to Matt's heart. “How did I upset you?”

“You have to let Mommy and me fix your boo-boos before they get injected!”

“Injected?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Matt sighed as he kissed her head. “I'm so sorry for upsetting you. It won't happen again.”

Clark wiped her eyes. “Okay.” She shimmied out of her father's arms and pulled him along until they reached the living room. “See, Mommy! Look at what Harley Quinn did!” the girl fumed as she folded her arms.

“Oh nooo,” Violet said, barely convincing the child.

“Well?! Go get your first-aids kit!”

“But he's not bleeding.”

“But he is hurt!” Clark shrieked, quickly growing exhausted by her parents lack of understanding for the severity of the situation. “You love him so fix it!”

“You're right, Clark. I do love him...so I'll do my best to fix it.”

Matt understood the underhanded nature of the comment and rolled his eyes.

“Sit down, Daddy,” Clark ordered. “Mommy, we need that first-aids kit, now!”

“Is this the emergency room?” Matt asked.

The toddler nodded.

“Are you a nurse or a doctor?”

“Nurse.”

“May I please have some water then?”

“Coming up!”

While Clark rushed into the kitchen, Violet returned to the living room. Matt refused to even look up at her.

“Listen, um,” the woman began, “I want to be in this uncomfortable situation just as much as you do. All I can say is that I'm sorry, but I don't know what else I'm supposed to do to fix this.”

“Hmmm, have you tried eating a pound of garlic?”

“But I'm allergic to...oh.”

“Here's your water, Daddy,” Clark chirped as she rushed around the corner with a bottle.

“Thank you, Nurse.”

“You're welcome. Now, be a good patient and let Mommy doctor fix you. Don't be a crybaby.”

Matt laughed. “I'm never a crybaby.”

“You are sometimesss.”

“What?! When?”

“When Mommy plucks your eyebrows.”

“Hey, hey, that was once and only because I lost a bet.”

Clark giggled.

“Why you laughin’ at yo Daddy's pain, girl?”

“Cause it's funny sometimes.”

“Fair enough.”

Clark climbed onto the couch and stood next to her seated father while Violet retrieved her first-aid kit. She grabbed the Neosporin and gently began to dab it along his black eye and cut nose bridge. Matt winced.

“Sorry,” Violet said softly.

“It’s okay,” Clark assured.

Matt fought the urge to smile.

“Is that better, Daddy? Is Mommy a good doctor?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Matt sighed. “Yes, Mommy is a good doctor.”

“She takes care of both of us.”

“Mm hmm. She surely does,” he said dryly.

“This is why we need to do a wedding!” Clark squealed.

“What wedding?” her parents asked collectively.

The toddler threw her arms in the air out of sheer frustration. “Your wedding!”

“Clark,” Matt exhaled. “There won't be a wedding.” He cleared his throat. “Um, Mommy and I are breaking up.”

Clark frowned. “What does that mean?”

“We... I-I won't be Mommy's boyfriend anymore.”

The girl gasped. “Why not?!” She aggressively grabbed Matt's cheeks. “Mommy is the most beautiful woman in the world!”

“I know she is.”

“No you don't if you don't want to be her boyfriend!”

“It's not that I don't want to be her boyfriend, I just...hey, do I really have to explain my relationship problems to you?”

She squeezed her father's cheeks even harder. “Yes!”

“You want me to be to honest?”

“Yes.”

“I don't think your Mom loves me as much as I love her.”

“No,” Clark protested. “She loves you and thinks you're more handsome than Thor.”

Matt laughed.

“She does! Don't you, Mommy?”

Violet bashfully tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “I do.”

“See, Daddy? She thinks you're hot stuff.”

Both her parents laughed.

“Seeeeee, you guys love each other.”

“Of course I love your Mom, but I can't be with her.”

Clark dramatically fell back onto the couch. “That doesn't make senseeee!”

“It doesn't have to make sense to you, little lady. All you need to know is that we love you and that you'll always be taken care of.”

“But I'm not happyyyy,” she groaned.

“Why not, Clark Lent?” Matt asked as he placed his hand underneath his chin.

“Because I'm only happy when Mommy is happy and now she's not happy! She wants to marry you but you don't even want to be her boyfriend! You're driving me coconuts!”

Violet pursed her lips in embarrassment over the girl's revealing rant. “Um, I have to go to the bathroom.”

When Violet left the room, Matt turned to Clark. “Mommy wants to marry me?”

“Yes! She told me.”

“Wow…” Matt exhaled.

“She loves you and you're being so self-righteous.”

“Self-righteous? Where are you getting all of these big words?”

Clark folded her arms.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“Hmph!” the girl huffed as she turned away from the man.

“Oh noooo, not Grumpy Clark. What can I do to fix it?”

She continued to ignore him.

“So, when did Mommy tell you that she wanted to be married to me?”

“Yesterday,” the toddler grumbled.

“Oh…” So did her opinion on me change over the years or is she just saying that to tell Clark what she wants to hear? the man asked himself. “I'll go with the ladder.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. Want to go to the zoo?”

Clark jumped up. “Yes!”

“Go get dressed.”

“Okay.” The toddler raced out of the room and up the stairs.

When Violet finally exited the bathroom, it was obvious to Matt that she'd been crying.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” she said quietly.

“I'm going to take Clark to the zoo.”

“Okay.”

“So...yeah.”

“Daddy, can I wear my cape?!” Clark shouted down the stairs.

“Of course, sweetheart!” Matt pushed himself off the couch. “Do you need anything while we're out?”

Violet shook her head just as Clark skipped down the stairs. “I’m ready!”

“Alright.”

“Are you coming, Mommy?”

“No, I'm a little tired, baby. You'll have fun with Daddy.”

Clark frowned. “But the go-ril-lasssss, Mom!”

“They'll be there when I go next time.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Let's go, Daddy!”

“I'm coming. I'll start the car, you say bye to Mommy.”

Clark rushed towards her mother and Violet groaned as she picked her up. “You're getting so big, my love.”

“I'm growing up,” she chirped before cupping her hands around her mother's ear so that she could whisper. “Don’t worry about this, Mommy. Daddy will marry you because I have a plan.”

Violet sighed. “Okay, sweetheart. Have fun at the zoo. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

She kissed her daughter's cheek before returning her to the floor. The woman watched as Clark's cape floated through the air while she rushed out of the door. Violet was close behind to make sure that the girl made it out safety. After she was buckled into her carseat, Clark waved goodbye to her mother as the car sped away.

“Fuck, she's getting so big.” Feeling nostalgic, Violet made her way to the living room and dug out all of the old home videos. She popped in the first DVD and tears were brought to her eyes nearly instantly.

“Oh my Goddddd. I was so fatttt.”

Push, Violet, push! Matt encouraged on the video.

“I need a glass of wine for this.”

After settling onto the couch with her Merlot, Violet laughed at Matt's Spider-Man costume.

“Crazy man.”

---

Say Mama. Sayyyyy Mama! Violet prompted.

Her first word will be Dada, Matt intervened. Mark my wordsss.

The woman laughed. “I can't believe he was right,” she said as she took another sip of wine. “But of course. Dada has simpler syllables than Mama.” Violet popped in the next video.

Oh, fuck, Matthewwww, the woman moaned as Matt sucked on her clit.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Violet panicked as she rushed to eject the sex tape. “Why is that with Clark's baby videos?” The woman marked the DVD with a big red X before moving on to the next. “I'll watch that later.”

---

Matt held onto the chubby 10 month old’s hands, but once she steadied herself he let go.

Come to Mama. Comeee to Mama, Violet urged from across the room as she crouched on the living room floor. Come on, baby.

The toddler took one cautious step, then another before she lost her balance and plopped to her butt.

Awe, it's okay, Matt assured as he grabbed her hands to help her up. You can try again.

Clark babbled and took one bold step towards Violet before tumbling.

Babe, she needs the cape.

Matthew, that cape looks ridiculous.

Noooo, I swear she took more steps last time with the cape on.

Violet huffed. I guess it won't hurt.

Yes! Don't worry, Clark, help is on the way! Matt said as he bolted up the stairs while Violet turned towards the camera as Susan continued to film.

So ridiculous, she mouthed to the lens.

Moments later, Matt rushed back down the stairs with the bright red toddler sized cape in had. He secured the velcro loosely around his baby's neck.

Be careful, Violet ordered. Her top is Burberry.

Matt smoothed the baby's cape and clothes prior to helping her to her feet again.

Come on, Super Clark, he encouraged. You can do it.

Dada, she cooed as she reached for him.

Within a second, Clark was in Matt's arms. He kissed her cheek and blew air bubbles against it causing the baby to laugh.

Don't spoil her, Matthew. I can barely get her to try walking as is.

The man sighed and returned his daughter to the floor. He held onto her tiny fists until she could find her center of gravity prior to letting go.

Come on, Clark. Come to Mommy.

Matt blew a gust of air underneath the baby's cape to make to flow. Super Clarkkk.

Clark giggled.

Matthew, stop distracting her.

It wasn't me. Her powers are activating.

Violet groaned in exasperation and it made her baby frown.

Mamaaa, she whined as she took a step towards her. Always in tune with her mother's emotions, Clark used the woman's frustrated expression as motivation to get to her.

The woman extended her arms. Yes, baby! Come to Mama.

The toddler began to wobble, but she refused to give up as she took one unsteady step after another.

Mom, is the camera still on? Matt practically squealed.

Yes, Susan excitedly replied. She's doing so good.

With one last shaky step, Clark fell forward into her mother's arms.

Yayyy, everyone cheered in unison while Clark laughed and clapped for herself.

It was totally the cape, Matt assured.

---

The next video started with the camera facing Violet as she walked. Do you want to know what happens when you leave your baby daddy alone with the baby? she asked as she entered Clark's nursery and turned the camera to Matt.

Babe, babe, look, Matt barely got out through his laughter. He'd placed the six week old baby in the front pocket of his apron. She's like a kangaroo.

Violet cackled. “I can't believe she was tiny enough to fit in thereeee. Well, hell I remember her fitting in one hand as a newborn.”

---

Clark's first Christmas was printed across the screen before it faded into Violet holding the chubby baby as they hung ornaments.

It looks good, ladiesss, Matt complemented, circling them as he filmed.

Dada, Dada, Clark babbled as she bounced on Violet's hip.

Hi, babyyy. I love you.

Clark flashed a toothless grin. Matt reached for her but she turned away.

How rude, he gasped.

Say go away, Daddy. We're decorating.

Clark spewed out an unintelligible rant that made her parents laugh.

Violet watched the endless footage of Christmas Eve and then their party on Christmas day as her sister filmed.

What are you expecting to get today? Rose asked.

Violet scoffed. I'm not expecting anything. She looked around and laughed. Wait, where's Matt?

In the snow with Clark.

Oh, okay so get this. He asked me for my ring size a few weeks ago, she squealed.

Oooo, you know what that means.

I need ten carats, henny.

The sisters laughed.

I have to practice my surprise faces for when he proposes.

Violet paused the video and took a large gulp of her wine. “I never got to use those fucking faces.”

---

Every time that Clark would bring up Violet, Matt would distract his daughter with toys or treats. The father/daughter duo made their way around the zoo twice and when the toddler passed out from sheer exhaustion, Matt loaded her into the car and took her home.

“We're backkk,” the man announced as he entered. He didn't hear a response but he made his way to Clark's bedroom and tucked her in anyway. “Violet?” he called when he returned to the main floor. The man entered the living room and found the woman passed out on the couch with a bottle of wine next to her. “Drinking alone is never a good lookkk,” he whispered.

Matt turned to leave, but stopped out of curiosity when he and saw the paused shot from a video that he'd never seen before on the television. He pulled the remote control from Violet's hand and pressed play.

Show me the face you'd make if he proposes, Rose continued.

Violet placed her hands on her cheeks and gasped dramatically. Matthewwww, it's so beautifullll! Yes! Yes, of course I'll marry you!

Rose giggled. Perfect! And I better be your maid of honor, bitch.

Wait, what's this about maid of honor?! Naomi shouted from across the room.

Nothinggg, Violet assured. At least not until we open presents, the woman said hopefully. Keep the camera rolling.

“Damn,” Matt exhaled. “Wait, this is...after I overheard her, so-”

What'd you get, Vi? Rose asked as she continued to film everyone open their gifts.

I don't know yetttt, Violet said excitedly as she pried into the small box. And it doesn't say who it's frommm. The woman beamed from ear to ear only to have her face fall when she finally got the box open and saw the watch.

Do you love it, sweetheart? her father asked.

Oh, this is from you, Dad? Yeah, it's beautiful.

As Matt continued to watch the video, he noticed how Violet became more and more anxious after each gift. At the time, what he thought was bitterness and resentment, was actually disappoint that he hadn't gone through with his proposal.

Are there anymore gifts for Violet?! the woman shouted.

Once you have a baby, all your gifts become gifts for them, Rose informed.

Yeah but... nevermind. The camera caught Violet pushing herself off of the couch and making her way towards Matt.

“God, I look miserable,” the man groaned when he saw himself on the screen.

Violet's words couldn't be made out, but Matt did his best to read her lips.

Are you okay?

I was, he replied as he downed another glass of eggnog.

Oh...well, I hope you're having a good time. Clark is really enjoying her first Christmas.

I'm only here for her, Matt slurred before the camera panned the room.

“Damn it,” the man hissed as he paused the video. “So much fucking time wasted…for nothing.” Matt reached out to stroke the woman's hair but then stopped. “All those times I was mean or when I knew she wanted affection-”

“Hmm?” Violet groaned as she stirred in her sleep.

“Baby,” Matt cooed, sliding onto the couch beside her. He kissed her neck then her jaw.

“Matthewww,” she slurred. “It's too hotttt.” When Violet attempted to push him away, she ended up rolling herself off of the couch, hitting the hardwood in a muffled thump. “Ow.”

The man suppressed his laugh until he saw the woman's expression. “You look like Grumpy Clark.”

Violet snorted. “Help me up?”

Matt leaned over to assist the woman, but she pulled him onto the floor next to her. The man didn't seem to mind as he walked his fingers along her collarbone.

“Violet?”

“Whattttt?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“I don't know. You want me to eat garlic and break up and-”

“No, no, no, I didn't mean it. I mean, I did at the time, but I was mistaken.”

“But when I say I don't mean something, you get all mad,” she hiccuped. “I hate your double standards and I hate youuu.”

“You don't hate me,” he said as he rolled on top of the woman.

“Oh my God, you're fattt. You're going to make me puke.”

“Puke on me if you have to, I deserve it.”

“Nooo, Matthew,” the tipsy women groaned. “You're beautiful and you deserve the world.”

“Awe...you really feel that way or are you just drunk?”

“Both.”

Matt laughed and kissed her. “I'm sorry for being such an asshole to you all these years.”

“It's okay, Matthew. Just get off of me.”

The man stole another kiss before finally giving Violet some breathing room. “You won't believe what I found earlier,” she slurred as she struggled to get to her feet. When she did, she popped in the DVD marked with the bright red X.

Oh, fuck, Matthewww, Violet moaned on the screen.

“Whoa!” Matt exclaimed. “When did we make this?”

“I don't know...back when you still cared about me. Back when we made love and not that rough, cold stuff that makes you just roll over and go to sleep when you're finished without kissing me goodnight.”

The man knew that he was guilty of making the woman feel that way and he wanted it to end. Matt pushed himself off of the couch and approached Violet from behind. As he wrapped his arms around her waist his lips found her neck.

“Mmm,” she exhaled.

Matt eased the straps of the woman's nightgown off of her shoulders causing the silk negligee to fall to the floor, leaving Violet in nothing but her favorite pink thong. The man smiled as he slowly ran his hands along her arms and then her breasts. Violet turned around and their lips met in a tender kiss. Matt gently glided his hands along her curves, stopping at her ass which he cupped to lift the woman. She wrapped her legs around his waist, making it even easier for the man to walk backwards until they flopped onto the couch.

They laughed and continued to kiss while Violet's hands fumbled with Matt's belt but he stopped her.

“I wanna take care of you tonight. I have two years to make up for.”

The man eased the woman onto the cushions but she wouldn't release her legs.

“Not on the couch,” she whispered.

Matt smirked and kissed her. “Come on, big baby.”

He lifted her off of the couch and bolted towards the stairs.

“Waittttt, don't forget my nightgown.”

“You don't need that,” he assured.

“Yeah, but neither does the floorrrr. If you don't get it now, it's all I'll be able to think about."

Matt groaned and retaliated against the woman's difficultness with a firm bite on her neck before doubling back and picking up the negligee then rushing up the steps. Instead of tossing her onto the bed, Matt gently eased his lover onto the mattress and took his time to practically worship every inch of her body with tender kisses.

“Nooo, Matthewwww,” Violet squealed. “Not my feetttt.”

The man laughed and tussled with the woman until he was able to kiss the top of her foot.

“I'm never kissing you again.”

He laughed. “You kiss me after I go down on you.”

“Yeah, but my cooch is pristine.”

“And your feet aren't?”

“I guess you have a point.”

Matt kissed the woman's freshly pedicured big toe. “I have no problem appreciating every part of your body, whether you think it's gross or not.”

Violet smirked while she rolled her eyes. Those same tawny brown eyes rolled into the back of her head when Matt kissed her thong. The thin cotton was the only thing that separated her throbbing clit from the man's eager mouth.

The woman gently gnawed on her bottom lip as Matt's nibbling and warm air from his exhales gave her new and exotic sensations that quickly began to drive her crazy.

When Matt could feel how wet the woman was through the thong, he knew that he'd teased her enough. He pinched the thin pink straps that clung to her hips and slowly slid them down.

“I hate youuu,” Violet playfully grumbled.

He frowned. “Why?”

“Stop teasing me.”

The man grinned and tossed the woman's panties over his shoulder.

“Nooo, Matthew, you have to put them in the hamper.”

“Can't it wait? I-” Matt relented when she gave him the look. He retrieved the thong and sniffed it as he made his way to the bathroom.

“You're so grossss,” Violet said as she bashfully covered her face.

“If loving everything about you, inside and out, is gross, then I don't wanna be... whatever the opposite of gross is.”

The woman laughed but didn't remove her hands from her face as Matt positioned himself between her legs. He returned to giving the woman soft kisses along her inner thighs and vaginal lips, but he didn't want to torture her completely so he took her clit into his mouth sooner rather than later.

The man started with gentle sucking with the occasional firm lick thrown in.

Violet finally removed her hands from her face. One found its way to the sheets while the other found Matt's hair as she gripped it. “That feels so good.”

“I'm just getting started,” Matt assured as he added the swirling of his tongue to the mix. The man traced rhythmic patterns along Violet's entrance and love button, listening as the woman's breathing became more labored.

“Matthew, you never do thissss,” Violet panted. “It's usually so r-ushed!” she squealed when the man began to shake his head from side to side with her clit still nestled between his smooth lips.

It only took a few more minutes of this before she began to tingle all over.

“Oh my Godddd. I'm cominggg.”

Matt didn't even need the heads up as the sweet and tangy taste of the woman flooded his mouth. He didn't waste a single bit of it and even used it to lube up his fingers before slowly sliding them into the woman. In addition to his gentle sucking, Matt knew exactly what angle to thrust his fingers in order to find her G-spot. He always knew that he'd found the tender bundle of nerves when Violet arched her back.

“Fuckkk,” Violet moaned as she arched her back.

The man curled his fingers upward and firmly massaged the sensitive spot.

“Ahh,” she groaned in pleasure as she tightened her grip on the sheets and Matt's hair. “You're so good, baby, oh my Godddd.”

It wasn't long before the woman was climaxing again and Matt enjoyed every second of her sugar walls contracting around his fingers. He took advantage of the human slip-n-slide as he began to vigorously work his hand up and down.

Violet tried to pull away but Matt held her in place and continued until she begged him to stop.

“Fuck,” she whimpered weakly.

Matt kissed the woman all over her trembling body as he undid his belt. After dropping his trousers, he distracted Violet by taking her lips so that she wouldn't notice him toss his clothes to the floor. The woman heard the soft thump, but she was too far gone to care.

Matt fished a condom out of the nightstand and ripped it open prior to sliding the rubber onto his rock hard dick.

“Are you okay?”

Violet nodded.

“Are you ready for this?”

“I don't know, but I'm willing to try. I mean, I feel so amazing already.”

“Welp, I told you I'm just getting started.”

Matt grabbed the woman's thighs and slowly pulled her towards him prior to rubbing his cock against her clit.

“Mmm.”

After making sure that the woman’s engines were still warm, Matt aligned his dick with Violet's entrance and slowly slid into her. They both sighed in pleasure as they adjusted to being so intimately connected.

“That never gets old,” Matt exhaled.

“What never gets old?”

“Your face when I put it in.”

Violet blushed. “It feels good.”

The man smiled and kissed the woman as he pulled out and then slowly pushed back in. He made sure that Violet could feel every inch of him as he kept his strokes steady and deep, causing her to pant with each movement.

Matt took advantage of the missionary position and stared into the woman's tawny brown eyes. The couple hadn't been this intimate during sex in nearly two years and the man nearly forgot how perfect the woman's expressions were.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he exhaled.

Violet buried her face into the crook of Matt's neck as she secured her arms and legs around his body while the man continued to thrust into her.

“I'm gonna come.”

Matt was surprised. “Already?”

“Yes,” she whimpered before digging her nails into his back.

“That's not an orgasm,” Matt scoffed as he sat up, pulled the woman's legs over his shoulders and began to roughly pound into her.

“Oh my God!” Violet moaned out as her toes curled and her fists twisted in the sheets. “Shittttt!”

“Now that's an orgasm,” the man proudly panted.

The woman continued to moan, groan and convulse.

Matt kissed her foot. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she managed to get out.

“You had enough?”

Violet shook her head. “It feels too good.”

Matt grinned and repositioned them so that Violet was on top.

“Shit,” the woman moaned as she adjusted to Matt being so deep inside of her. She closed her eyes and slowly began to ride the man while Matt caressed her breasts.

He loved seeing how Violet's hair fell to the sides of her face and how she exhaled through parted lips, letting out the occasional 'Fuck’ whenever the stroke was just right.

Matt caressed the woman's body all over but when he reached her hips, she stopped him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she panted as she returned his hands to her boobs.

He made a face. “What's up?”

Violet sighed. “I don't want you to feel my ripples.”

“Ripples?”

“My stretch marks!”

Matt attempted to look but Violet palmed his face. “Stopppp.”

“Babe, you don't even have stretch marks.”

“Yes, I do,” she sniveled. “You just haven't noticed because you're used to a quick fuck from behind.”

“Not even,” Matt retorted. “I like when you're on top too,” he joked. It earned him a playful pop on the chest. “In all seriousness, I've never seen a stretch mark on you and if there is, there's nothing wrong with that.”

Violet frowned and guided the man's hand to her hips so that he could feel the scars. “I noticed it a while after Clark was born. My body went through the craziest fluctuations.”

When Matt saw that the woman was visibly upset over the change in her body, he grabbed her hand and interlocked their fingers.

“Can I look at it?”

Violet paused before she reluctantly nodded and dismounted when Matt eased her off of his lap. The woman laid on her stomach and buried her face into the pillow while the man examined the two pale scars on her hip.

“Babe, these are badass.”

“Really?” she replied, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Well, for one, they're barely noticeable. But babe, guess what? You carried a life. Without you, Clark wouldn't be here and I'm so grateful for that. You should be proud of these tiger stripes. I know I am.”

Violet peeked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, woman! Do you need proof? Like-” He licked her hip where the stretch marks were.

“Ewww!” Violet squealed.

“I told you that you look amazing. You're perfect, you're beautiful, you look better than Linda Evangelista, okay? You're a model. No part of your body grosses me out. You could sneeze on me and I'd probably thank you.”

The woman laughed before Matt met her lips and stole a kiss.

“You ready for more?”

“Mm hmm.”

Matt climbed off of the mattress and when Violet followed suit, they smooched before he gently bent her over the bed. The man showered the woman's shoulders, back and ass with more kisses before he slid his cock into her entrance. He started off with slow and steady strokes prior to adding deep, forceful thrusts that made the woman moan his name every time he tapped her G-spot.

“You feel so good, baby,” he panted.

“So do yo- fuckkk,” Violet groaned as her legs began to shake. “I'm coming,” she squealed.

“How many orgasms is that?” Matt smugly asked.

“I don't knowww,” the trembling woman groaned into her pillow.

Matt pulled out, lifted Violet back onto the bed and positioned his head between her legs before wrapping his mouth around her clit.

The woman's back involuntarily arched. Her body was near the brink, but she didn't want the pleasure to stop. In addition to licking and working his tongue, Matt added his fingers to the mix. Once they found Violet's G-spot the woman began to tremble even harder.

“Fuck! Shittt! Matthewwww, okay, okayy! Stop!” she pleaded as she squirmed.

After pulling away, Matt sat up and slid his cock into Violet's sensitive entrance. The woman winced, but she didn't tell him to stop as he began to pound into her.

Matt enjoyed every moment of Violet's animalistic moaning and as his own toes began to curl, he buried his face into the crook of her neck.

“I'm coming,” he whispered against her goosebump covered skin. “Fuck.” As Matt moaned and filled the condom, Violet convulsed and whimpered when the man pulled out.

“I love you,” Matt exhaled, kissing her face, neck and collarbone while he waited for her pleasure induced convulsions to stop. “Did you get enough?” he teasingly asked as he gently touched her clit.

Violet flinched at the contact. “Don't,” she whimpered. “God, it's so sensitive.”

“I hope this makes up for the past two years.”

“It m-m-makes up for the last five years, plus a t-ten year cr-credit,” she managed to get out while she steadily trembled. “God, Matthew!”

“Whatttt?”

“It was amazing. I literally can't stop shaking.”

“Did I rupture a nerve or something?”

“I don't knowww.”

“Well, you're still beautiful. Even if you are all twitchy.”

Violet laughed and pulled the man into a kiss. The couple's lips remained connected until Violet's body finally managed to calm down. Matt pulled her into a cuddle and when the duo was practically asleep, Violet grumbled.

“Matthew.”

“Hm?”

“Put your clothes in the hamper.”

---

“Good morninggggggg!” Clark shouted into the walkie talkie her parents had gifted her to prevent awkward moments such as walking into their bedroom to see her father's naked butt in the air.

Matt groaned as he blindly reached for the device.

“Are you guys awakeeeee?”

When he found the walkie talkie, Matt pushed the button and spoke into the microphone. “Good morning, Supergirl. How did you sleep?”

“Good,” she chirped. “What about you?”

“I'm still tired,” he grumbled.

“Well, I would let you go back to sleep, but I'm hungry. Can I have pancakes?”

“You certainly can have pancakes. Start brushing your teeth and washing your face. I'll be right out.”

“Thanks, boss man,” she said with a giggle before hanging up.

Matt turned to Violet who was flat on her back and snoring. He knew that the toxic combination of alcohol and great sex would have the woman out for awhile. The man smirked as he kissed her cheek prior to pushing himself off of the bed. After he brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face, Matt made his way to Clark's bathroom. He peeked around the corner and found the toddler brushing her dark curls.

“12...84...26...19...41,” she said as she counted the brush strokes.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Matt greeted.

“Hi, Daddy!” Clark squealed, dropping her brush prior to jumping into his arms.

“Gonna help me cook?”

“Mm hmm.”

Matt carried the girl down the stairs then into the kitchen.

“Okay, chef Clark, get your Batgirl apron on and we'll get started.”

After he grabbed a medium sized bowl, Matt let the toddler dump in the the pancake mix and pour in the water before he stirred. When the ingredients were lump free, he dolloped some of the mix onto her nose.

“Heyyy!” In retaliation, the toddler stuck her finger in the batter and smeared it on her father's cheek.

“Ahhh, you got me!”

Clark laughed as her dad guided her to the barstool, far away before he proceeded to pour the mix onto the hot griddle, making the mini pancakes just the way that Clark liked them.

When he was finished, he presented the toddler with a plateful of tiny pancakes and a generous helping of syrup while he settled next to her with his BLT.

“Yummy, yummy,” she said, kicking her legs while she ate.

“Clark?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“I need your help with something.”

“You need my help with what?”

“I want to marry Mommy, so I need your help figuring out how to propose to her.”

Clark slammed both of her sticky hands onto the table. “Now you want my help?! I told you that Mommy loved you a long time ago and you did not want to be her boyfriend but nowwww,” she said as she rolled her eyes, “you want to marry her?!”

“Sssshhhhh! She'll hear you. And yes, little lady. I want to marry her.”

The toddler groaned and stuffed another mini pancake into her mouth.

“Are you Grumpy Clark right now?”

The frown on her face didn't budge as she continued to eat her pancakes.

“Come on, boo, don't be like that. Don't you want to help Daddy?”

Clark rolled her eyes.

“Heyyy, if we have a big wedding, you can eat all the cupcakes you want.”

She paused. “Cupcakes?”

“Yeah, cupcakes. And you get to wear a pretty dress. Maybe even with a cape.”

Her eyes grew wide in excitement. “Okay, I'll help you!”

#pearlet #pearlet fanfiction #knocked up fic

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