#would have been in the next percentile

[ilikeevilblondes]

Breaststroke

18+ MDNI!

Summary: Joel, single dad extraordinaire, is struggling to teach his daughter how to swim. You end up teaching Sarah over the course of a few weekly swimming classes. One fortunate day, Joel accidentally stumbles upon a rather intimate situation involving you in the shower rooms after hours. He’s about to leave, but right before he can, he hears his own name spilling out in a desperate moan from your lips.

TL;DR: It’s more fun to stay in the YMCA (shower rooms) (because that’s where Joel fucks you.)

W.C: ~7.7k

Warnings: Singledad!Joel x swimmingteacher!reader, softdom!joel, accidental voyeurism, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, praise, fingering, unprotected p-in-v, shower sex, pull out and pray, implied age gap, Joel’s got that daddy humour (no outbreak!)

Note: waiter! waiter! some plot with my porn, please! sorry, you freaks, mama had to stretch the narrative before the rawdogging. and sorry for the late upload, the flu was not gucci. hope y'all enjoy as always, though! and if you got any reqs, feel free to send them my way 🤓

@pedrospurplerain

According to HealthyChildren.org, most children in America begin to learn how to swim by their fourth birthday. Basic abilities like floating and treading water can be ingrained in their motor skills at that point, and by the ripe age of five or six, most children will have been able to freestyle across any urine-defiled public pool.

Joel sighed as he watched his five-year-old angel scream and hiss at the local YMCA pool, refusing even to dip a toe into the chlorinated abyss.

“Sarah, pumpkin, you’re not a cat.” He sighed, pinching his curved nose bridge.

Sarah merely shot him a dirty look, the dirtiest a toddler could muster. She crossed her arms over her chest, the bright orange inflatable armbands around her upper arms squeaking as she did so.

“I don’t wanna go in there, daddy.” Sarah humphed.

Joel shook his head, looking up at her from where he sat in the shallow area of the gym’s pool. His little treasure, bless her heart, was stubbornly standing over the ledge and peering down at him with both fear and unwavering defiance.

“Y’gotta, pumpkin.” Joel ran a hand through his wet hair.

Of all the dads in the world, Joel would not say he was among the worst percentile. He certainly tried his best to do anything and provide everything for his little girl; working as many shifts as he could to pay for her school (his kid somehow, thankfully, didn’t get his brains and was starting first grade ahead of schedule), moving into a ‘nicer’ neighbourhood, and spoiling her with all the stuffed toys and lego sets her little heart desired.

Being a single dad wasn’t easy, to put it simply. Joel would’ve thought, owing to karmic nonsense, the universe could have been a bit nicer to him for the measly crime of forgetting to teach his daughter how to swim. But there he was, staring up at a child more hydrophobic than a rabies survivor.

“Can we go home, Daddy? Please?” Sarah stomped her little foot down onto the tiled floor.

“We will, sugar, I promise. Just, not until you at least try to step down here.”

Sarah shook her head wildly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” She said, more decisively.

“Says who?” Joel raised a dark brow.

“Me.”

“Remind me again, pumpkin, are you the adult or the child in this relationship?”

“You’re the one in the kiddie side of the pool, Daddy.” Sarah giggled, revealing a toothy grin.

Joel sighed through a smile. God, this kid was too smart for him. She was gonna be the death of him.

Mumbling something to the effect of ‘smartass’ under his breath, Joel treaded to the end and hoisted himself up, towering over his three-foot-nothing daughter and dripping chlorine-infected water down onto the ground.

“You wanna switch places?” He crossed his arms over his broad, bare chest, nodding his head toward the pool.

“Nope!” Sarah smiled.

Joel was about to give up for the day and take his troublemaker home only to return the next weekend, when he suddenly felt a tentative finger tap his shoulder.

He whipped around to see a girl, much younger than him—and much shorter, too, dressed in the standard red lifeguard one-piece uniform. 

“Sorry to intrude,” You began, biting your lip. “I couldn’t help but overhear.”

Joel blinked, not realising he had to reply to your remark like a normal fucking human would. Instead, he opted for the less popular, uncivilised caveman method of furrowing his brows and blinking madly.

He was too distracted by the way your swimsuit clung tightly over your body. Too mesmerised by the droplets of water sliding in slow motion down your curves. Not to mention that disarmingly pretty smile of yours. 

God, he’d been too single for too long.

“Hello!” The reason for his singleness beamed up at you and waddled closer. “I’m Sarah.”

Your smile stretched wider as you bent down to meet her eye level and introduce yourself in return. Sarah repeated your name back to you delightedly, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

After making a comment about how ‘cool’ her floaters were, you straightened up and met Joel’s coffee-brown gaze.

“Anyway.” You absentmindedly tucked a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear. “Um, well, I overheard your situation. And, uh, just wanted to let you know that the gym hosts free introductory swimming lessons every Saturday afternoon. I teach the classes, actually, and you and your daughter are more than welcome to come, mister…?”

By some miracle, Joel was able to move his mouth and properly communicate this time.

“Miller. Joel Miller.” He managed to say without so much as a stutter, smiling politely at you and sticking out a hand.

You took his hand in yours and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Miller-Joel-Miller. That Italian?” Your laugh was a sweet sound and, at risk of being completely predictable, music to his ears.

“The only Italian in me, sweetheart, is from the canned ravioli we had for lunch today.” Joel chuckled. “And we’d be more than happy to come, wouldn’t we, Sarah?” 

To punctuate his claim, he flashed Sarah a look.

A frown cut into her soft features, but she relented. 

“Yes, we would.” Sarah sighed dejectedly.

“Great! Um. Here’s the flier.” You produced a colourful leaflet and held it out to Joel. He took it. “It has the times and details and, uh, that’s my phone number on the bottom, there.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Joel pocketed it. “We’ll be there.”

“I look forward to seeing you two then.” You smiled again.

Joel would’ve fallen to his knees if you had stayed longer with that damn smile of yours. But you turned around to speedwalk towards the other side of the pool, blowing your whistle and reprimanding a bunch of teenagers running across the slippery poolside.

And if he thought the front of you was stunning, he was quickly shown that your back view was just as providing.

“You’re staring,” Sarah observed, tugging at his arm.

Joel cleared his throat.

“Let’s go home, pumpkin.” He ruffled her hair, much to a fit of giggles, and led his daughter away from the outdoor pool.

—-------

Saturday afternoon did not come quickly enough. 

After a week of late nights spent finishing drywall and early mornings making Sarah’s lunch—because there was no way in hell she was going to eat whatever junk-filled shit the American school system provided in cafeterias—Joel was tired, to say the least.

By three o’clock sharp, he had arrived at the pool with his daughter dressed to the nines in a robot-themed swimsuit and bright green goggles that suctioned so hard into her little face that she looked wide-eyed and cartoonish.

And when four o’clock had rolled around, Joel was happy to report that his daughter had finally worked up the nerve to get in the pool. With your help (and some floppy-haired assistant coach), Sarah had also managed to do some basic swimming manoeuvres without clinging to the side for dear life and frothing at the mouth.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Joel approached you after the session had officially ended, and Sarah was dried off and warm. “Just wanted to thank you. And, uh, Coach Bryan for, you know…”

“No thanks necessary, Mr Miller.” You winked, then bent down to Sarah, who stood beside her father. “You did great, Sarah. Really.”

Sarah smiled sheepishly. Joel chuckled at her bashful demeanour and ruffled her hair affectionately.

“Same time next week, Coach?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” You saluted him and walked off toward the shower rooms, a towel around your shoulders and a spring to your step.

Joel shook his head, smiling, and took Sarah home in a better mood than he had been that morning.

—-

Joel quickly learned that the swimming lessons were beneficial to both him and his daughter. Sarah was speedily conquering her fear of water, and Joel was… well, Joel spent a lot of time talking to you when you weren’t in the pool. And afterwards, too, when the rest of the kids had already left and there were no other parents to chat your ear off.

“You’re taking a gap year?” Joel mused after one particularly smooth sailing session, taking off his sunglasses and hanging them on the hem of his shirt.

“Yep. Just taking a break after college so I can figure out what I wanna do in life.” You shrugged. “Is being a contractor any fun?”

“Well, sweetheart, I doubt you’d like it very much.” Joel smiled, glueing his eyes to yours with steely resolve. 

He was not going to look down at your body this time. He was not going to ogle the tight fit of your one-piece. He was better than the average man.

Besides, you were definitely too young for him. Possibly even young enough to be his daughter. You’d likely recoil in disgust and horror and, possibly, contact the local authorities to capture him, the creepy older man, if he were to ever make a move.

“Eh. I was open to the idea.” You laughed, shaking your head. “But I guess it’s dominated by big, strong hunks like you, huh?”

“I mean, I—” Joel began, but cut himself off upon realising what you had just said.

He blinked. Did you just flirt with him?

As if sensing that Joel was getting somewhere other than friendly banter with her swimming teacher, Sarah jogged up to the two of you.

“Daddy, I’m hungry. Let’s go home!” She pulled at his wrist.

Joel cleared his throat, offered you a quick goodbye, and led his daughter outside back to their car.

—-

“I promise it’s funny.” Bryan nudged your shoulder, giving you a very indiscreet once-over.

Joel was shamelessly eavesdropping on your post-lesson conversation as he towelled Sarah’s unruly hair nearby. Not to be nosy, of course, just to find out whether he was your boyfriend or not. Out of pure curiosity, really. No ulterior motive whatsoever…

“I somehow doubt that.” You hummed, no amusement evident in your unimpressed tone.

“Okay, so, there’s this ginger, a brunette, and a blonde—”

“I’ll stop you right there, Bryan, is the punchline, by any chance, ‘breaststroke’?”

“Well, shit.” Bryan sighed.

Joel chuckled to himself, giving Sarah one last tousle with the towel before settling it over her shoulders. 

He concluded you either hated your boyfriend, or he wasn’t your boyfriend at all. 

Joel preferred the second option.

—-

“I’m just getting some water. You okay with the kids?” You pulled yourself out of the pool, glancing at Bryan.

“Yep. All good here,” He called back.

With a nod, you draped your towel over your shoulders and made your way towards the deck chair that held your things.

It seemed that the heavens were smiling on you that day, too, because none other than Mr Miller himself occupied the chair beside yours.

And what a sight he was.

Sun-bathing, his sunglasses resting over closed eyes, and his broad, bare, tanned chest exposed to all. 

“Having fun there, Mr Miller?” You smiled, taking a seat on your chair, bringing your water bottle to your lips.

Joel lowered his sunglasses and very discreetly let his gaze travel down your body. 

You bit back a grin. He always thought he was so subtle.

“Absolutely, coach. Need to set a timer, though, or I’ll end up medium well-done.” Joel sat up, facing you.

You snorted at his dad-humour.

“Tan looks great.” You commented, wiping your brow with your towel.

“You think?” Joel smiled, reaching for the can of soda on his side table and taking a sip. “Thank you very much, sweetheart.”

“No problem at all, Mr Miller.” You licked your lips, your gaze momentarily caught on his … form-fitting trunks. “Well, I better get back to it.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” He pushed his sunglasses back up his aquiline nose.

“My—oh! Oh. Bryan? No. Ew,” You held back a gag. “No. No. God, no.”

Joel chuckled.

“I think you may need one more ‘no’ to prove your point there, darlin’.”

“No.” You played along. “Him and I are strictly friends. Besides, he isn’t my type.”

“He isn’t?” 

“I like my men like I like my cheese.” You shrugged, standing up.

“Don’t say smelly.” Joel laughed.

You opened your mouth but decided to leave your preferences shrouded in mystery as you began walking off.

Well, until you threw him a look over your shoulder, catching him in the act of staring at your ass, but pretending not to notice.

“Aged.”

Joel choked on nothing while you innocently walked away like you hadn’t just made a heavily suggestive remark.

—-

“Daddy? Can I go talk to Amanda for a second?” Sarah asked, her gaze flickering over to a plait-wearing blonde girl nearby.

“Yeah, okay, sugar. Be quick, though. Tommy’s coming over soon.” Joel squeezed her shoulder before letting her run off, her wet flip-flops squeaking against the tiled poolside as she approached her friend.

Joel shook his head and smiled. He was so proud of his girl for overcoming her phobia. Maybe he needed to treat her to ice-cream one of these days–

“Hi, Mr Miller.”

After craning his head, Joel found you standing behind him. Bright-eyed and wearing that same, impossibly tight, lifeguard swimsuit. Thank God for nylon.

“Hey, coach.” Joel offered you a lopsided grin. 

“I just wanted to say, I’ve been really impressed with your daughter over these past few weeks.”

“She’s a fast learner.” Joel moved beside you, still facing Sarah and her little friend but keeping his eyes trained on you. “Unlike me.”

“Does she get it from your wife, then…?”

Joel couldn’t shake his head faster. “No wife.”

And there went his eyes, dragging down your slightly wet body. Christ, it was like you jumped straight out of a Baywatch episode—keep it together, Miller!

“Oh.” You coughed. “So that’s why all the moms flock around you.”

Joel let out a short laugh. “I think you’re exaggerating, sweetheart.”

You took a quick glimpse at the hoard of middle-aged women unabashedly staring at the wide-shouldered man next to you before returning your sights to the wide-shouldered man himself.

“I don’t think I am.” Your lips pulled upward in a small smile. “Well, anyway. Just wanted to catch you before our final lesson next week.”

“Our final lesson’s next week?” Joel sputtered out, sounding way less calm and collected than he had intended.

“Yeah. Unless you want to learn how to swim, too.”

“I think I’m all covered in that department, darlin’.” Joel smiled. “But thank you. For everything. I know this whole shindig is free, but I just wish there was some way I could repay you.”

You clicked your tongue and, if Joel caught that correctly, lowered your voice.

“I’m sure we can find some way for you to pay me back, Mr Miller.” You said innocently, but your half-lidded eyes told another story.

Before he could so much as utter out the first syllable of a reply, Sarah came darting back.

“Okay, Daddy, let’s go!” She took her father by the hand and spared you a glance. “Bye, coach!”

Joel tried to hide both his shock from your very obvious innuendo as well as his disappointment from his daughter’s very poor timing.

He rubbed a hand down the lower half of his face and nodded at his daughter. “Let’s go then, pumpkin.” He gripped her hand and turned to you with a slightly dazed smile. “I’ll see you next week, sweetheart.”

“That you will, Mr Miller.” With a quick wink, you spun around on your heel and made your way toward the shower rooms.

—-

As fate would have it, barely half an hour later, Joel found himself sighing unhappily and looking down at his daughter as he attempted to contain his frustrations.

“We just got home—what do you mean, you left your goggles at the pool?” Joel said through a deep exhale.

“Sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to forget them.” Sarah shuffled her feet, her eyes locked on the floor in front of her and her fingers twisting the bottom of her t-shirt.

Tommy stuck his head out from the kitchen, one hand clutching a can of Bud Light and the other braced on the doorframe.

“Yeah, Joel, she didn’t mean to.” He piped in, unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, shooting him a quick glare.

His brother just smirked and took a sip of his beer.

Joel sighed and turned back to Sarah, pinching his nose bridge. “Look, pumpkin, it’s fine. I’ll just drive back to the pool and get ‘em for you, okay?”

Sarah frowned. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”

“Yeah, Joel, you better be. You’re the one making it.” Tommy let out a dramatic huff.

Joel ignored him.

“Won’t take but a hot minute.” Joel ruffled Sarah’s unruly curls and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head before turning away toward the front door.

“Say ‘hi’ to sweetheart for me, if you see her!” Sarah smiled up at him.

Joel paused mid-step, his shoes halfway on.

“Hi to who, now?” Tommy leaned closer.

“That ain’t her name, pumpkin.” Joel chose not to look directly at Tommy as he huffed out another sigh and yanked his shoes fully on.

“Ain’t that what you call her, though?”

“Now, who are you callin’ ‘sweetheart’, Joel Miller?” Tommy wore a shit-eating grin on his face.

Joel decidedly ignored him, believing it to be the best course of action.

“Watch my kid, Tommy!” He called as he stepped out of the house.

—--

The pool area was mostly deserted by the time Joel returned to it, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the lengthy stretch of lane-roped waters.

Joel walked a slow lap around the perimeter of the pool, scanning the tiles and lounge chairs and the lone lifeguard tower for any sign of Sarah’s goggles.

Nothing.

Turning around, Joel’s eyes landed on the entrance to the womens’ locker rooms. He huffed out a heavy sigh, running his hand through his grey-flecked hair. He would have preferred to not snoop in there in fear of startling any lingering guests, but he decided that there wouldn’t be anyone this close to closing time on a Sunday and, moreover, didn’t want to come home empty-handed and disappoint his daughter.

So, on he went.

The locker rooms were quiet when he tentatively stepped inside, the scent of chlorine and cheap soap clinging to the air. 

Fortunately, it seemed that he was the only one in its vicinity.

And, even more fortunately, Joel immediately spotted Sarah’s bright green goggles lying by its lonesome on a bench near the showers.

Gotcha.

He was ready to make a beeline for them and head quickly home, but upon taking a few steps forward, Joel’s ears caught the distant sound of a shower running.

Turning his head toward the source of the splashing sounds, Joel’s eyes immediately noticed a swimsuit hanging precariously off the shower curtain rod.

But not just any swimsuit. It was a red one-piece with what appeared to be ‘lifeguard’ in bold, along the front.

It was your swimsuit. 

You were in the shower.

Joel pursed his lips. Just his fucking luck. Of course, the inappropriately young girl he tried not fantasising about for weeks was the only other person there.

Mentally chastising himself for even entering the locker rooms in the first place, Joel pivoted sharply and began making his way toward the exit.

He didn’t get very far, though, because, after two intentionally light steps, he heard his own name drifting from the steaming shower.

“Joel…”

He stiffened. Evidently, he was caught. He’d have to apologise profusely and somehow testify that he was not, in fact, a perverted Peeping Tom—

“Joel,” You sighed, followed by … shit, was that a moan?

And at that moment, Joel realised that, alongside the splashing of water echoing from the stall, there was the unmistakable clap and squelch of—

“Joel! Oh… fuck,” Your breathy moan carried easily down the short hall.

You were fucking yourself to the thought of him.

Shit, shit, shit.

If Joel were a better man, he would already be in his car, driving home. He would have forgotten this encounter had ever occurred, tucked it deep into the depths of his mind, granted you a curt farewell for the final lesson the coming week, and proceeded to never see you again.

But Joel wasn’t a better man.

Judging by how quickly his dick came to life to rest, half-hard, against his thigh in his swim trunks, Joel was an awful person.

Well, he couldn’t come home nursing a semi, now could he?

Yeah. Reaching down to pull his throbbing cock out of his waistband was the right thing to do.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he leaned against a corner and slowly slid his fist down his stiffening length.

“Joel! Fuck, your cock feels so good!” Your pitchy whine floated down the room, amplified by the generosity of the tile acoustics.

Joel’s dick twitched in his hand. 

Out of habit, he tightened his grip around his base and fucked up into his fist, squeezing his eyes shut and pretending it was your tight cunt he was jutting in and out of.

And it wasn’t hard to pretend, either. What with the sinful noises you were making a few stalls away, and the desperate pleas of ‘that’s it, Joel, fuck me harder!’

With pearls of precum dribbling down his tip and smearing along his hand with each thrust, Joel felt himself near his release. Judging by the increasingly airy quality of your whines, you were facing the same predicament.

Joel continued to fuck his fist, picturing you in various filthy scenarios. 

You, slowly wrapping your dainty hand around his hard-on and eagerly taking over.

You, on your knees, choking on his cock. 

You, tits smushed against tile as Joel fucked you with reckless abandon under the hot torrents of the showerhead.

Ramming brutally into your greedy fucking pussy, watching as his come-soaked dick disappeared in and out of your tight channel—

“Fuck!” Joel cursed aloud after a particularly enthusiastic thrust.

Suddenly, the water stopped. So did your noises.

Joel stilled. Oh, shit.

“Hello?” Came your voice, meekly. “Is … Is someone there?”

As silently as he could, Joel released his hold on his cock and carefully tucked himself back in his trunks.

Shit. What was he going to do?

Almost immediately after he regained his decency, the shower curtain slid halfway open with a faint metallic rattle, and you cautiously peered out, hiding most of your body behind the vinyl barrier.

“...Mr Miller?” You said, uncertainly, as if half-convinced he was some kind of dreamlike apparition.

Joel cleared his throat and took an instinctive step back.

“Uh—yeah. Just, uh… goggles. Sarah’s goggles.” He stuttered, holding them up weakly. “Her goggles. She left them here. The goggles.”

“Well, thank god you clarified that.” You smacked your lips, a sarcastic bite to your tone. The snarkiness soon faded from your expression once you added, with knitted brows, “you’re in the womens’ showers.”

“Yeah, I—” Joel winced. “I know.”

Silence.

After a moment or two, you opened your mouth to say something else, but the words died in your throat as your eyes fell on Joel’s trunks.

More specifically, the raging bulge making itself known in his lap.

“You’re hard.” You stated, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.

Joel’s eyes shot wide open. He glanced down, too, and sure enough, he was hard. It was almost as if he was fucking his hand to the thought of you only moments before. Oh, wait, that’s because he was!

To preserve the last shred of dignity in Joel’s inexecusably shameful body, he threw his hands over his groin and attempted to stammer out a valid excuse.

“Sorry, sweetheart—” No, he wasn’t. “—I, um… well, you see, I…”

Your eyes found the faint traces of precum on his right hand.

“Were you … jerking off to me in the shower?”

Yes, yes, he was.

“Frankly, darlin’, I think the better question here is, were you jerking off to me in the shower?” Joel coughed.

Your eyes trailed over his body, lingering again on where he covered his hard-on.

“I was.” Your stare found his. “Your turn, Mr Miller.”

Joel sucked in a breath through his teeth. There was definitely no backing out now.

He nodded slowly. Reprehensibly. 

Shame churned within him as he desperately wished for the ground to open up at his feet and swallow him whole, possibly even spitting him back out into the fiery pits of hell where he so clearly belonged after what he had done. Unfortunately for him, the earth, indifferent to his suffering, remained stubbornly solid beneath him, leaving him stranded in his own mortification.

“Look, sweetheart, I can’t express how sorry I—lord almighty.”

Instead of letting him scramble to finish whatever bullshit he was cooking up, you decided to pull the shower curtain all the way back.

Joel gulped, taking in your newly-exposed bare body, from the soft curve of your breasts to the thickness of your thighs to the seam of your … fuck, to the seam of the same pussy you were probably fingering just moments before; glazed in glistening beads of water under the cool fluorescent lights. 

You were fucking gorgeous. 

So gorgeous, in fact, that Joel felt his cock fully spring to life at the sight of you, standing naked and dripping-wet from the rain of showerhead.

“Let me… let me help you out.” You bit your lower lip, your eyes hazy.

“H-Help me out?” Joel breathed, staggering backward, his hands still persevering to conserve his modesty.

You slowly approached him, stopping when any semblance of personal space was lost, and dropped down to your knees.

Jesus Fucking Christ. 

Joel heard himself swallow.

“Don’t you want this, Mr Miller?” You looked up at him, your eyes pleading and almost doll-like from that angle.

While waiting for his response, your hands softly wrapped themselves around his, guiding them away from his lap to meet his tenting swim trunks head-on.

Joel, meanwhile, was busy trying to convince himself this wet dream of a situation was really happening whilst simultaneously refraining from spending his load in his trunks, because the vision of you, bare and waiting patiently on your knees, looked downright sinful.

“Doesn’t matter if I do.” Joel shook his head slowly, not registering the fact that his grip on the goggles loosened to a point where they fell to the floor in a dull clatter. “This… this is wrong.”

“The way I see it,” You hummed, your hands finding gentle purchase on his hips. “I’m naked. And already wet. And you’re…”

Your eyes flickered down to his bulge and wet your lips. Upon seeing this, Joel’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Ain’t there some—some rule against, I don’t know, a coach fraternising with a parent in this way?” Joel furrowed his brows, distractedly taking your chin in his hands and tilting your head upwards.

“No.” You eagerly let him direct you, moving at his will. 

“You sure?” 

“Positive.” The corners of your mouth pulled up in a small smile.

“What if someone comes—yeah, fuck it, I ain’t gonna keep pretending like I don’t want this.” Joel shook his head, his eyes dragging over you unabashedly.

“Oh yeah?” Your smile only widened.

“Go on then, darlin’.” Joel purred, his voice a low and rough timbre, his eyes overtaken with want. “What was it you said a while ago…? Help me out.”

With his less-than-reluctant approval, you tossed him another heart-stuttering wink, slipped your fingers past his waistband, and pulled him out.

And, fuck, you were not disappointed.

Joel was big, to say the least; in both length and girth, and you may have felt your cunt quivering at the mere thought of the possibility of taking him inside you later, but you were quickly overtaken by need upon seeing the drops of precum spilling from of his head.

With a hand wrapped around his base, you stuck your tongue out to lick a stripe up his length, tasting the salt of his skin and his arousal.

At your actions, Joel inhaled a sharp breath.

“You gonna finish what you started now?” Joel mused from above you, closing a fist around your grip on his cock and bringing it closer to your parted lips. He gently tapped your cheek with his free hand. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”

And you gladly did so, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his head like a fucking lolipop.

“Fuck,” Joel gritted his teeth, tossing his head back against the wall.

Taking his expletive as a sign to continue, you proceeded to hollow your cheeks and take his length deeper, as deep as physically possible without making you choke. 

“That all you can take?” Joel tutted, caressing your cheek.

Much to your determined efforts, you only managed to fit a little more than half of him in your mouth. Because, fuck, was he big.

You whined around his cock in response.

“Shh,” Joel murmured. “‘S okay. ‘S okay, sweetheart.”

His deep brown gaze met yours, and for a second, you could have mistaken the emotion swimming in his eyes as affection. 

“Nice and slow, hm?” Joel said through a satisfied exhale, his brows furrowed at the sensation of being enveloped by the warmth of your mouth. 

His fingers threaded through your hair, coming to grasp at your roots, but remained stationary, waiting for you to make the first move.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes and held that eye contact as you began moving your head back and forth. Seeing his eyes briefly flutter in pleasure, you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling it twitch as you continued your movements.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it.” His grip in your hair tightened.

You started to bob your head up and down at a quicker pace as you sucked him greedily, your hand moving in deft strokes along the stretch of his length your mouth couldn’t entertain.

Joel cursed under his breath and guided you on and off his cock in a steady rhythm as he fisted your hair.

And, fuck, he let himself thrust into your mouth once or twice, but upon hearing you gag, resolved to let you take charge of the speed entirely.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Joel breathed. “Sounded pretty chokin’ on my cock, but I guess I went too far, hm?” He sighed, caressing your cheek again.

You moaned with his cock heavy on your tongue, signalling your eagerness to die of asphyxiation from a fucking blowjob, and begun to take him even further into your mouth, feeling his head touch the back of your throat.

“Shit, darlin’.” Joel groaned. “That’s a good girl. Taking it so well.”

A strangled sound escaped from your otherwise occupied throat as you continued to deepthroat a man old enough to be your father.

Truly realising the situation you found yourself in, you felt a needy sensation thrum from in between your legs. Whilst continuing to bob your head around his cock, your hand went to trail down your front and relieve some of that tension you ached to be rid of, rubbing your clit furiously.

“Oh, my poor girl.” Joel cooed, seeing this. “Come on, now. Up you get,” He gently pulled you off his cock (wincing at the loss of your mouth) and up to stand in front of him.

“Not good?” You breathed, resting a hand on his chest while his hands settled on either side of your waist.

“No, sweetheart, it was very good.” Joel dipped his head down so his mouth was less than an inch away from yours, every word releasing as a warm breath against your lips. 

And then he leaned down to capture your mouth in a desperate, hungry, horribly sloppy kiss, licking into you and no doubt tasting his own arousal on your tongue.

You didn’t even register he was walking you backward until your back hit the shower wall.

“Just wanna fuck you now,” Joel mumbled, his half-lidded stare drifted down your bare form before flickering back up to meet your eyes.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You smirked, pulling him back into another frenzied kiss.

Joel smiled against your lips.

“So mouthy,” He tutted in that authoritative, paternal voice you’ve heard him use before, in between eager kisses. “I’d like to teach you a lesson, sweetheart, but I’m afraid I’m too fuckin’ impatient myself right now.”

At the sound of that, you clenched your thighs together.

The slant of his mouth trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting at your wet skin, humming in pleasure as he did so. Simultaneously, his big, calloused hand made their way from your waist down to your lower abdomen, and lower, still, until you felt his fingers ghost over your slick entrance.

You gasped.

“Mr Miller–”

“‘Joel’, darlin’. It’s ‘Joel.’” He mumbled against your neck, his stubble scraping lightly against your skin. “Heard you moanin’ it in here a while ago, I’m fairly certain you know how to pronounce it.”

“Joel,” You obliged, biting your lower lip as you felt Joel’s fingers meander nearer to your core.

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“You don’t have to… you know,” You glanced down in between both your bodies.

Joel followed your gaze and saw his own fingers hovering close to your aching mound.

“Think I do.” He clicked his tongue. “Need to get ya ready. Wouldn’t wanna hurt that pretty pussy of yours when I… well, to put it bluntly, darlin’, I don’t wanna hurt your pretty pussy when I’m fuckin’ you in a little bit.”

“Oh,” You breathed.

“Yeah,” Joel hummed, nudging your cheek with his nose. “That sound good to you, sweetheart?”

You nodded almost too avidly.

“Good,” Joel sighed, his fingers skimming over your aching cunt and just barely dipping inside your folds. “Just relax, darlin’. I gotcha.”

That was the last of the preamble before you felt one of his fingers slip inside, dragging up and down against your walls.

Normally, if left to your own devices, you were barely satisfied with a singular digit of your own. But here you were, gasping and clenching around just his middle finger.

Content with your reaction, Joel kissed your neck and slipped another finger to crook alongside the first in an even rhythm that began to spark a familiar warmth in your gut.

“There we go.” He mumbled against your skin.

“Fuck,” You whispered as you felt his thumb settle on your clit.

You felt Joel smile against your pulse point. And then, with his other big hand, he gently held your face and titled it to the side to pepper kisses along your jaw.

“You can take another, can’t you? Yeah, you can.” Joel hummed, and before you could respond, you felt a third finger slip inside, stretching you wider. 

Your eyes squeezed shut as Joel’s fingers curled inside you at a faster rhythm while his thumb graciously swiped at your clit.

Blood pounded in your ears. Your breathing shallowed. You were so, so close.

“Joel, please…” 

“Please what? C’mon, baby, use your words like a big girl.”

His fingers only sped up, dragging against your walls so deliciously and filling you better than your own hand could have ever done.

You inhaled.

“Please don’t s-stop.” Your breath hitched in your throat. “I’m so close.”

“You wanna come for me? ‘S that it?” Joel cooed, his breath warm against your skin and right beside your ear.

“Please,”

“Come for me then, sweetheart. Let me hear you,”

With a scream of his name, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, sending you into a light-headed bliss as you clutched his big upper arms.

His fingers only began to slow once your cunt stopped pulsing rapidly around him, and when you caught your breath again, he tenderly slipped them out.

“Made a mess of my fingers, huh?” He mumbled, staring down at how his hand glistened with your arousal.

You felt your cheeks redden.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t fucking be,”

And you watched as Joel stuck a finger in his mouth and sucked your slick off it like it was a world-class dessert.

“That was hot,” Was your breathless response.

Intelligent.

“Oh yeah?” The corner of his lips tugged upward as his eyes danced from your own to your parted lips. 

“Yeah,”

A soft, low laugh rumbled in his throat.

“Come here,” Joel sighed, placing a hand on the small of your back and another on the side of your face, leaning down to devour your lips in another messy kiss.

His tongue slid inside your mouth as if starved, licking against your tongue and letting you taste your own pleasure. All while the hand on your face brought you closer and gently stroked the curve of your cheek.

After a few moments, Joel broke the kiss almost regretfully.

He barely pulled away, his lips closely within reach of yours, and his breath mingling with your own as he spoke in a deep, gruff rasp.

“You still want this, sweetheart?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Joel smirked. “A simple ‘yes’ would’ve sufficed.”

Before you could form a response to his slightly snarky remark, your breath was stolen from you at the sight of Joel tugging down his trunks fully and stepping out of them.

Glancing down, you found that he was still incredibly hard. Almost painfully, by the look of how his cock practically bounced up to his navel. Clearly, your recent oral assistance did nothing to tame the lust in his body.

Joel crowded you up against the wall once more, his tall frame easily looming over yours. One of his big hands went to caress your jawline, angling your head up toward him, and the other went to your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist.

“Been a while for me.” He sighed, a hint of embarrassment peeking through his tone. “You tell me if I get … carried away, yeah?”

Instinctively, you hung your arms around his wide shoulders, bringing him even closer.

“Yes, sir.” Your lips quirked upward.

“Good girl,” He hummed, his thumb absently running along your bottom lip.

Then, the hand cupping your face went to guide his aching dick to notch against your entrance, sliding against your wet mound.

And, with a shaky inhale slipping past his lips, he sheathed himself inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Joel muttered lowly.

You let out a whine at the feeling. 

Despite being barely halfway in, Joel was already proving to be more than sufficient, especially from the way your velvety walls were already pulsing wildly around his length.

“I know, I know, I know,” Joel sighed, his thumb caressing where he held a grip on your thigh. “‘S okay, sweetheart. Shh, you can take it.”

In response, you nodded.

And Joel drove himself the entire way, balls-deep, his greying pubic hair tickling the inside of your upper thighs. He gasped in your ear at the feeling of the first full thrust and at the sensation of your channel clamping desperately around him.

He filled you up so fucking well.

“You doin’ okay? Hm?” He mumbled, leaving lazy, aimless kisses along your neck.

“Need more.” 

“Oh? She wants more, huh?” He smirked against your skin. “That what you were imaginin’ in the shower?”

“Y-Yeah,” You whispered.

“Flirtin’ with me for weeks now, and here you are bein’ all shy.” Joel tsked. “Don’t worry, you’ll get more, darlin’.”

Joel began sawing in and out of you at a relaxed pace, letting out low groans of satisfaction. 

With every sloppy thrust, you heard the distant wet thud of your back against the shower tiles, sounding in a steady rhythm. But, despite each measured roll of his hips sending white-hot shivers throughout your throbbing cunt, you found yourself dangerously craving even more.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” Joel hummed coyly.

“Joel,” You whined.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” Joel mumbled against the corner of your mouth.

You only realised you were moaning obscenely loud when the echo had bounced around the room, and Joel was muttering something encouragingly into your skin.

“That’s it. Y’sound real fuckin’ pretty.”

Joel’s thrusts had picked up the pace. The only sound competing with the volume of your moans were the crude wet slaps of his body against yours.

Slap, slap, slap.

You thanked your lucky stars the shower rooms were deserted after the swimming lessons, because you were sure even if someone happened to walk in on you two fucking like wild rabbits, you wouldn’t let him stop.

And some part of you knew that he wouldn’t want to, either. Not with the way he was breathing airy curses beside your ear and mumbling about how ‘fuckin’ tight’ you were and other such filthy ramblings.

After a particularly harsh thrust, you felt his pace falter and his dick twitch against your walls.

“Fuck,” He whispered sharply.

Out of the blue, Joel pulled out, leaving your slick mound vacant for a heartbeat or two before he spun you around roughly, forcing you to brace yourself against the wall.

And, not long after, he fed you the entirety of his cock again in one deep thrust.

“Joel!” You gasped. 

Your hands, stretched out in front of you and anchored against the wall, scrambled to find a grip on the smooth, slippery surface.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He said from somewhere behind you, beginning to ram into you at a brutal pace as he held you in place with an iron grip on your hips. “Needed—fuck… Needed this.”

With your tits pressed against the tiles and his length kissing your cervix after every drag against your pulsing walls, your vision began to blur and your lower gut began to flutter. 

You were very fucking close.

As if reading your mind, one of Joel’s hands trailed from your hip to your front, sliding down until he brushed your clit. And then he began rubbing the sensitive nub in sloppy semi-circle motions, tutting sweet words as you whined nonsensical syllables.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you,” He cooed soothingly.

You let out a pitchy whine, “feels so good.” 

“That right?” Joel mumbled distractedly, using a rough hand on your neck to turn your head toward him despite the awkward angle, and claimed your lips hungrily, licking desperately into your mouth as if it was the last thing he’d ever do, and letting out hoarse noises of appreciation as he did so.

His hips continued to jut into you, setting an erratic, jerky pace.

Slap. Slap-slap. Slap. Slap-slap-slap.

You arched back against him and unintentionally broke the kiss when the overflowing pleasure spiked incredibly high.

“J-Joel,” You breathed.

The man, who was single-mindedly pistoning in and out of your splayed legs, hummed a sound of acknowledgment in response, his warm breath ghosting over your cheek.

“Joel, I’m close,” You whispered, the heat of both your bodies meeting where your back leaned against his front. 

“Are you?” He replied almost casually.

His fingers only sped in their motions, swiping at your clit almost feverishly as he continued to rut animalistically into you; each thrust stretching your aching cunt impossibly wide and oh so easily finding your cervix—

“Fuck!” Your chest tightened.

“Ask for it.” Joel’s gentle yet commanding tone nearly made your knees buckle. 

That, and the manic force at which he was fucking into you.

Slap–slap-slap-slap—

“Go on, baby. Ask.” His nose nudged at the side of your face, breathing in your scent as he tutted lowly, “hate to see you all worked up like this.”

“Shit—please! Can I come, please?” You acquiesced.

You felt the muscles of his rugged face pull up in a small smile against your cheek and his dick twitch inside your tight walls, sending shivers down your spine.

“Be a good girl and come for me then, sweetheart,” Joel said in between strained breaths. “Come all over my cock, I gotcha.”

Your climax came rippling over your whole body, a prolonged resonance that sent you into the territory of overstimulation—much more powerful than your first orgasm—as neither his fingers nor his cock slowed down in their frenzied pursuits. 

So, there you were, chanting his name like a prayer and clenching tightly around his relentless length.

When the fluttering of your cunt subsided, Joel hurriedly pulled out and wrapped a hand around his throbbing cock, fucking up into his fist frantically and cursing under his breath. You all but folded against the wall as you felt his loss, sticking your ass out and waiting for the inevitable.

Soon, his breath caught in his throat, and you felt hot ropes of his come spill over your back.

“Shit.” Joel sighed, gently rubbing along your sides. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder once he recollected himself a few moments after, still softly trailing his hands up and down as both of your breaths evened.

“You okay over there, sweetheart?”

You nodded weakly, unable to voice your satisfaction with your brains all fucked out.

Joel huffed a short laugh. “C’mon, I’ll clean you up.”

Somewhere behind you, the shower handle groaned with a faint squeak. A dull clunk followed, and then, with a sudden rush, water erupted from the showerhead, dousing the two of you in a sputtering cascade.

Gently, Joel tugged you away from the wall to stand directly under the jet of water, softly helping you wash away any reminders of your reckless impropriety.

He pressed reverent kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and around your collarbone as you got cleaned up.

There was no hidden, lustful agenda to this, as far as you could tell. You assumed it was either a result of his years of fatherhood or some testament to his overall caring nature, but either way, you weren’t complaining. You happily let your eyes fall closed as sheets of warm water streamed down your body, all while Joel’s lips tentatively found yours, then your neck, and his strong hands moved along your body.

“Um…” Joel began after he had turned off the shower, looking at you with his big, soft eyes. “I know this is the completely wrong order of things, but would you like to–”

“Yes.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You didn’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Were you gonna ask me out on a date?”

“Yeah,” Joel laughed bashfully. "Is that... is that okay?"

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, and rising on your tiptoes to meet his lips in a lazy kiss.

“The answer’s yes.” You mumbled without breaking away for too long.

You felt Joel smile against your lips.

[bunny-jpeg]

i got a fever and the only cure is more john price!!

he fucks nasty, you thought that age would slow him down. but, no. you are worn out before he even breaks a sweat. years of training to his body has given him stamina like a bull. and he had the breeding balls to prove it!

you didn't mean to sleep with your captain, but now that he had you in his grasp. he wasn't loosening his grip, not until that belly got round and those tits got fat.

"was a big baby." he said, his voice tense as he pressing his cock down into you. he had you pinned under his hefty, hairy wait as his impressive (huge) cock battered your insides. prepping you to accept his thick cum. he had his bicep around your head and kept you pinned.

it wasn't even a full doggy style anymore, he just laid on top of you with his cock plugging your sweet pussy. your moans were pathetic, you were powerless to him.

"price's are grown quite big, big head and wide shoulders. but don't worry, i'll be there the whole time. makin' sure my woman is taken care of. carry them at your hip while i got ya pregnant with another." his licked his lips like a hungry dog at the thought of it all.

you thought it was just sick dirty talk by the way it made you pussy slicker. but price was laying it out as it was. he was going to breed you, you were going to have his children.

he is egged on by your moans. he had convinced himself that you were his wife, even though you had never even gone on a date before. you thought this was simple, on-base, casual sex. meanwhile price was trying to very blatantly baby trap you.

he chalked up your ignorance to you having better maternal instincts than actual smarts. but, that was alright, you were meant to be a mother anyway! don't worry, price will make it all better for his precious wife.

price wanted to see and document all the changes to your pregnant body, he wanted to see his child grow inside of you. proof that he had laid claim to him. then he'll set you up in a sleepy town in northern england and you can be his little wife.

you, him and the kids. maybe a guard dog or two to protect the property. gotta keep the family safe!

the sick, pervert thoughts overcame him like a wave as he drilled his cock into you. a promise that he was going to finish very soon. even if you wanted to escape, the weight on top of you and the blissed out mess in your mind prevented you from getting too far.

not until he got you pregnant.

when he creams inside of you. it's game over (sorry)! you thought that due to age and his lifestyle that his swimmers were next to nothing. but he'd been saving up. a long time without a hole to fuck had made his biology desperate to pass his genes along.

so when he got you in a headlock while he rocked up into you, spearing your pretty pussy open, get ready for motherhood (yay)! because even trying to sneak off to get plan b will do nothing. you waited too long or the pills were ineffective.

as he rubbed your swollen middle on the couch of the sweet little home you (he) owned, his face brushed up against your side. his facial hair tickled your bare arms. he'd tell you that it was a miracle before he kissed your swollen mound.

"you are a better mother than you ever were a private." he cooed at you as he invaded your space once more, "good mothers make strong babies and i'm aimin' for the 99th percentile" <3

[peachesofteal]

Nori is such a menace she would deadass call Simon dad on purpose

Nori isn’t in bed when you wake up, and that’s a problem. 

You’ve been lucky, you guess, that Simon has been letting her sleep in your room. He even lets you lock it at night… if you’re “good”.

Small victories, or whatever. 

He’s figured out how to keep you here. How to threaten you effectively, complaints to child services, getting you fired from your job, getting you evicted, dumping your car in a river- 

Faking your death, and Nori’s. Letting you run only to bring you back again and again. 

“But I’d never hurt you, love. You or Nori, promise. Jus’ gotta trust me.” 

You’re biding your time. Waiting for the right moment, the opportune time to strike. He’s already told you he’ll have to leave for work, that he won’t be here for weeks or even months at a time, but he knows you’ll stay put. 

You’re not sure how he’s so confident, but you’re sure it’ll be his downfall. 

The saving grace in it all is that Simon doesn’t hurt Nori, or you. He’s not gentle with you so much, but with Nori, it’s different. It’s like watching a giant hold a delicate daisy in their massive hand, trying desperately not to crush it. 

It’s kind of… no. 

It’s kind of nothing. 

You rush out of the bedroom to find her sitting on the kitchen counter, little legs swinging and giggling, low cadence of Simon’s voice humming from the fridge to where she hovers over a big mixing bowl. 

“Mommy!” She smiles, arms up for a hug, but you stay on the outskirts, staring at the two of them. It’s bizarre how they look together. Nori is big for her age, was big when she was born, still in the ninety percentile, and next to him… she practically looks like she’s his. “Daddy said I could have pancakes.” Your mouth drop opens, so wide you know you’re catching flies. Simon only smirks. 

“Eleanor… baby, Simon isn’t… he’s not your dad.” Her little brow furrows, matching the pout in her bottom lip.

“But he said.” 

“He’s not your dad!” You snap, and the silence after is deafening. It lasts only a second before she bursts into tears, and Simon scowls at you. 

“Right, that’s enough.” He pulls her from the counter, holding her shoulders until she’s steady on her feet. “Go to your room and play, alright? Mum and I need to have a quick chat.” She looks from him, to you, nervously, reaching her hand out for yours. You squeeze it. 

“It’s okay, go ahead.” She nods, and waddles off, leaving you alone. With him. 

It’s quick this time. Face in the pillow, bent over his knees. He doesn’t pull your leggings down either, just wails on your ass, grunts every time he makes contact, squeezing and cooing as you sniffle. 

“If you’d listen, we wouldn’t have to do this honey.” 

“I’m not listening to you! You… you kidnapped us!” You’re trying to keep quiet for Nori’s sake, but it’s hard. Everything is hard. It’s unfair. He sighs.

“You’re in your own home, honey. How have I kidnapped you?” 

“Not kidnapped.” He hauls you upward, holding the back of your neck, wiping at your wet cheeks. “You’re holding us hostage. Just… leave! Let us go. Please.” It’s been weeks of this, and you won’t give up. The pleading. The begging. The tears don’t stop, and he pulls you into his chest. 

“I know, it’s hard isn’t it? I know.” He rubs your back, lips on your temple. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.” 

“Stop,” you croak, shaking your head. The comforting, the coddling, the affection makes it all worse. The way he kisses you, holds you. How he pulls you down on his cock and fills you up, wrists pinned tight at your back, your tits bouncing as he thrusts. 

You don’t want it. 

You beg him to stop. 

And he only holds you tighter as you come, eyes rolled back in your head, thighs shaking. 

It fills you with shame. Confusion. 

“I’m not going to stop, okay honey? We need to get this out of your system before the next one comes.” He caresses your stomach, and nausea builds in your throat. 

He’s been fucking you without a condom for weeks. Weeks. 

Your last birth control pack ran out six days ago. 

The time is ticking away. A bomb waiting to detonate, and there’s nothing you can do but sit in his lap- 

And cry. 

Later, he offers ice cream. A walk down the street to the parlor in search of Nori’s favorite flavor. A walk where you will pass people who will perceive you as a happy family, when all you want to do is grab one of them and beg for help. 

Nori is so excited for ice cream,  so happy. 

You can’t say no. 

“We’ll find you some strawberry baby girl. That sound good?” The two of you are putting on hats and jackets as he observes, thick fingers zipping your coat to your chin. “Can’t have you catching a chill.” 

“Right.” Nori beams as he does the same, tapping her nose before hoisting her up over his shoulder. 

“Ready?” 

She smiles at you mischievously, arms wrapped around his neck. “Ready, daddy.” 

[suzukiblu]

Day two of February’s third weekly WIP behind the cut; “interdimensional kidnapping via Robin”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon cries a lot harder; hard enough he clearly can’t talk past it, hard enough to shake with it, and like–he’s not a small kid, honestly. He’s the smallest that Tim’s ever seen a version of Kon, yes, but he’s pretty big for his physiological age. Which, like–not surprising that he would be, really. He’s definitely in the expected top percentile for a ten year-old, if not over the expected top percentile. Tim would put him somewhere between 4’10” and 5’ and at probably a good hundred pounds or so, which puts him maybe nine to seven inches shorter than Tim himself is and maybe, like, forty-five or fifty pounds lighter. So . . . about seventy percent of his own body weight, give or take. And Tim probably has a concussion and at least a couple broken ribs, and definitely has plenty of cuts and abrasions and bruises deep enough that he doesn’t even want to think about how long it’s going to be until he’s field-ready again. 

He doesn’t do goddamn Bat-level training to not be able to pick up and carry a crying kid no matter what condition he’s personally in, though.

Tim scoops Kon up into his arms and the kid makes a startled little noise about it that cracks through one of his sobs, then grabs the front of his suit just next to the “R” decal tight enough that the body armor creaks and buies his face in his neck to cry even harder. He doesn’t hold onto him any more than that, but he’s still as close to clinging to him as he can get. 

Well–no, his TTK is definitely clinging to him, whether his actual physical body is or not. 

Tim wonders exactly how many times this kid’s been held by someone–at least how many times that he remembers being held by someone, anyway–but all things considered is pretty sure he wants the answer to be “none”. If Luthor really is the only person that this version of Kon remembers ever having been touched by . . . 

Yeah. Tim definitely wants the answer to be “none”, ugly as that thought is. 

“S-sorry,” Kon gasps brokenly into his neck. “M’sorry, m’s-sorry, I d-don’t–I dunno why, I–I can’t s-s-stop, I–” 

“It’s alright, kid,” Tim says, and doesn’t let his voice get any tighter. Really, it’s impressive Kon didn’t fall apart sooner. Or . . . depressing, maybe. “I’m just gonna carry you for a bit now. Just tell me if you want down, okay?” 

“I don’t,” Kon sobs, his TTK going tight. “Don’t put me down, don’t–please.” 

“Okay,” Tim says, and fucking hates Lex Luthor. 

He walks the rest of the way to the marina with Kon curled up in his arms and crying into his neck; digging his fingers into his body armor and his TTK into all of his bruises. Tim might need to do some repairs on the armor later but is really not concerned about it right now. It’s just a footnote to take care of before he tries to go on patrol in this specific suit again, that’s all. It already needed some fixing up anyway, after spending seventy-six hours going through the wringer in a reality that shitty. 

Also, like, he guesses he needs some fixing up after that too, admittedly. 

[thewritetofreespeech]

Midorima being submissive with his fem in power s/o who palms him through his pants and his body acts out of it's own, he can't really control it, not only is he very hard, he's also grinding against her hand and can't stop himself. Making high pitched sounds.

---------------------🟢--------------------------

Midorima hissed through his teeth as he stared at the test booklet in front of him. His mechanical pencil gripped tightly in his fingers, with just the slightest sound of whining plastic as it threatened to break. “I have….to study….”

“I know.” [Y/N] replied to him calmly. As if totally oblivious to his suffering. “I’m helping.”

Midorima grit his teeth. ‘Helping? Helping!’

“Those testing halls are full of distractions. How are you going to be prepared if you don’t practice for that too.” The male whined as his partner’s palm pressed harder into his clothed erection. She had been playing with him for what felt like hours. Manually massaging him.

At first Midorima had tried to deter her. With his scheduled test time next week, and a goal of getting into med school, he could not afford any distractions. Batting her hands away or giving a surprised yelp when her hand touched him, not in the mood to play. But, when that didn’t work, he decided he would take the opposite approach and just ignore her. Show her that she couldn’t get to him as she just did as she liked. That was a mistake. But he couldn’t back down now.

Refocusing on the question, Midorima re-read the prompt and wrote down his answer. [Y/N] continued to handle his erection. Cupping it now and stroking it through his sweatpants. Stupid of him to try and be comfortable in his own apartment. “[Y/N] please….”

“Finish the test.” She told him.

Midorima tightened his back jaw and worked through the next question. This continued for a while longer. Him answering questions, her stroking his cock with juuuust enough pressure, and the clock ticking in the background.

By the time his timer went off, Midorima had been actively bucking into her hand. Forgetting about the test and trying to cum in his pants. He needed to do laundry anyway. “Let me see.”

The former shooting guard blinked out of his daze as [Y/N] took her hand off his cock and whipped around to pull his test sheet out from under him. “Hmmm…this is not good….” She criticized as she checked his answers against the key.

Midorima was flabbergasted. “But I….you…But—“You’re never going to get into UT with a score like this. Forget medical school.” His head dropped. Yes, she was distracting him, but he should have been better at his testing by now. Never mind he completely abandoned the end of the test for silly pleasures.

“Take it again.” She ordered as she sat a new blank testing sheet in front of him.

“Are you gonna….” Midorima answered his own question as he saw [Y/N] settle back into her spot beside him. He gulped.

“Get a score in the 15th percentile of last year’s rankings and I’ll let you cum.” Midorima whimpered as her hand was on him again.

Abashed, and just giving up on pretending he didn’t want this, Midorima leaned forward to try and kiss his partner. Only to be met with her fingers at his lips. “You can kiss me when you’re a doctor.” She told him. “Now get back to work.”

[probablyasocialecologist]

The degrowthers are right: There needs to be a lot less physical stuff produced, especially in the way of fossil fuels, and, for anyone with the least sense of justice, this means rich countries consuming less and poor countries consuming more. Such an apparent threat of rich-country austerity meanwhile contains, in truth, the promise of abundance: fewer but more durable goods, less work and more leisure. (Already in the 1990s, the French-Austrian ecosocialist André Gorz wanted to “build the civilization of liberated time” in place of that of wage labor.) The fact that any such global rebalancing of consumption patterns can’t plausibly take place so long as the rich countries of the Global North dictate world history is one more reason that degrowth remains a dead letter under capitalism. It is not, however, the working classes of the Global North that must drastically curtail their lifestyles: The world’s richest 1 percent are responsible for as much carbon emissions as the poorest two-thirds of the global population. Much of the work of degrowth would be accomplished by the dispossession and destruction of the class represented by this sole percentile. As for the idolaters of growth, their god has not only failed but, Cronus-like, has started devouring its children as if these were so many chicken wings. “Growth” fantasizes one kind of fake substance, and “degrowth” another; real intelligence demands attention to how the ingredients of this world are different, not the same. Even so, the advocates of degrowth (a more attractive English word might be Samuel Beckett’s “lessness”) can boast of a sounder moral and political intuition than can the usual apologists for growth: Less stuff, more life! Such an argument may be obviated soon enough, either way, by the specter not of degrowth communism, but of prolonged capitalist contraction. Voters and politicians whistling past the graveyard being prepared for our children may have neglected to consult a recent article in Nature which holds that “the world economy is committed to an income reduction of 19% within the next 26 years independent of future emissions choices” (emphasis mine). Important factors in this bleak outlook include the declining agricultural yields and the massive and unpredictable damage to infrastructure attendant on climate collapse. In other words, even if carbon emissions are somehow reduced through the magic of the market, climate change can be expected to cause about $38 trillion in damages annually by the mid-century, enough to render overall economic growth infeasible. The choice facing the 21st century, then, is likely not between degrowth and growth. It is more likely between a form of capitalist contraction in which prosperity endures for a few but evaporates for the rest of us, and some kind of socialist or communist degrowth in which the well-being of everyone in general prevails over the wealth of anyone in particular. The precise politics of egalitarian degrowth are no more clear to me than they are to Saitō. But universal crisis will license strategies that theory alone could never discover.

26 August 2024

[irrealisms]

i call this collage "quitting therapy"

[ID under cut]

Image ID: a collage made from excerpts of my psychiatric medical records and reports. The excerpts are small black text on a white background and are pasted all over the image, creating a less organized collage look. The excerpts are small black text on a white background and are pasted all over the image, creating a less organized collage look. This ID will record each excerpt as it appears from left to right and top to bottom, with a couple noted exceptions where I felt the order mattered.

“This report is confidential and should not be released without the expressed written consent of the parent or guardian”. This text is in all capitals and bolded in the middle of the image, at the top.

“eye contact was sometimes prolonged or avoidant.”

“Casey has struggled with psychiatric symptoms since childhood.”

“She identifies with the pronoun “they”.”

“Casey’s gender and sexual confusion has been supported by her parents.”

This excerpt is a table labeled “Grooved pegboard test”, with the headers of “Z score”, “Percentile Rank”, “Drops”, and “Descriptor”, with rows labeled “Dominant (right) Hand Speed” and “Non-Dominant (left) Hand Speed”. The Z score for their right hand is -4.0, and -3.2 for their left hand. Both hands have a percentile rank of <1%, 3 recorded drops, and a descriptor of “Extremely Low”.

“Casey’s insight into her role in relationships was limited”

“Her affect was otherwise relatively flat”

“Deficits in theory of mind”

“Appearance/Behavior: calm and cooperative”

“poor eye contact”

“Casey’s interpretations of others’ thoughts/feelings was often immature or markedly incorrect.”

This is a table excerpt, listing “Activities of daily living”, followed by the scores “28**”, “1%”, and “Clinically Significant Elevation”.

“To date, Casey is quick to reprimand others for not following the rules. For example, she will reprimand her mother and father for removing their facemasks in public amid the COVID-19 pandemic.”

"age appropriate"

“Casey’s performance fell far below that which is expected of a younger teen.”

“fairly good insight into her weaknesses”

“insight: superficial”

“judgment: impaired, based on recent behaviors”

“insight: poor”

“Casey tended to talk at the examiner and talk over the examiner. Casey only once inquired about the examiner’s own experiences, when it related to her interests (“Do you like podcasts?”). She tended to dominate conversation.”

“therapist called the police and Casey way given the choice of going to a psychiatric hospital voluntarily or be Baker Acted (she went voluntarily).”

“Casey does not admit to ongoing AVH.”

“Comments: more guarded today and more reluctant to openly share symptoms”

“She is still reluctant to start another antipsychotic medication”

“Casey’s guarded nature. I would like to move forward with initiation of another antipsychotic (risperidone v olanzipine), but Casey would prefer to defer that today. Will allow time to process fears/concerns related to medication in therapy and revisit starting antipsychotic at next appointment.”

“Discussed risks and benefits of retrying antipsychotic medication, acknowledging her fear of inducing another seizure. Casey would prefer to defer initiation of another antipsychotic today and was encouraged to discuss and process her fears related to this in therapy, which she continues to attend and finds helpful.”

“Today: Mood and anxiety okay on mirtazapine and duloxetine but still having psychotic symptoms, the severity of which is difficult to assess given Casey’s guarded nature. I would like to move forward with initiation of another antipsychotic (risperidone v olanzipine), but Casey would prefer to defer that today. Provided information on both meds, including comparison of side effect profile and laid expectation for starting one of these meds in the future.”

“Strongly recommend Casey start an antipsychotic.”

“Unchanged from last visit.”

This excerpt is a rating scale, with the question “On a scale of 0-10, how likely would you be to recommend this facility to a friend or family member?”. Below the question are the numbers 0 through 10 in sequence, with a box to check next to each number. The box next to 0 is checked with an x, next to the words “not at all likely”.

“Discharge Medications. Patient discharged on 1 Antipsychotic(s):”

This excerpt is a bulleted list, immediately below the colon as if to imply that they are the antipsychotics in question, which has the following bullet points: “Improve eye contact in conversations with unfamiliar people”, “Improve social awareness and boundaries in relationships (learn to “read a room”)”, “Improve patience in relationships”, “Improve reciprocity in (in-person) conversations”, and “Improve tolerance for other people’s perspectives/differences.”

“Comment: somewhat avoidant.”

“Treatment: Continue therapy.”

This excerpt is a box to check, which is checked with an X, next to the words “Against Medical Advice (AMA) Discharge”.



(thanks to @aro-ace-ave-maria for helping with the image description)!

[herblizzardllama]

heavily pregnant, uncomfortable & huge | twin pregnancy

At 41 weeks pregnant with twins, Rosie was beyond ready to pop. For days, she felt the head of baby A nestled uncomfortably on her cervix and the movement of both 99th percentile babies caused her distended belly to deform. She should be relaxing on the couch, but unfortunately her 9 week old son (birthed from her other uterus) had a checkup today, meaning she would have to haul not only her pregnant self, but also a stroller to the local hospital. Luckily Noah, her friends-with-benefits, had offered a car ride to the doctor’s, something she was eternally grateful for. Before leaving the house, Rosie caught a glimpse of her swollen bump in the mirror, where her popped navel pointed downwards - finally her belly had dropped. 

After placing her son in the car seat, Rosie gripped the headrest of the passenger’s seat with one hand, and the other supported her round lower belly. It took a whole three minutes of manoeuvring and gently lowering herself to finally sit down in the car, where she suddenly gasped as her belly tightened with the kicks of her twin boys. Rosie rubbed the swollen mass between her legs, the stretched skin tender and struggling to contain her babies and amniotic fluid. Noah extended his hand out to Rosie in worry, as he stared at the overdue pregnant woman. Perhaps he should’ve laid a towel down after all…

Rosie gripped her swollen belly as the braxton hicks came at full force, causing her to moan whilst rubbing her tight bump. She had apologised to Noah for the inconvenience, especially as their predicted 15 minute car ride turned to nearly an hour drive due to peak traffic times. Rosie moaned again, her belly deformed as her muscles tensed up around the twins. Somehow during the contraction, she had involuntarily pushed, causing baby A’s head to descend further near her cervix. Rosie didn’t think much of it, as she had been only 2cm dilated for several hours. 

20 minutes passed. The car was still stuck in the same place due to a car accident half a mile ahead. Rosie moaned as another braxton hick caused her huge belly to strain, and she suddenly gasped as a soft popping sound caused several litres of fluid to soak her underwear and car seat. 

“Hey Noah, I think my water just broke”

this was part 5 of Rosie's pregnancy journey with uterus didelphys (double uterus). the next part will be the birth of the twins, hopefully posted soon after my exams. check out the earlier parts of Rosie's pregnancy on my blog for some extra context :)

[femmehaljordan]

Since you were manifesting, here have this thing that's been rotting in my drafts. I can't flesh it out to save my life.

Jason doesn't go home AU, and kinda hangs with Dick in Bludhaven

He looks at the newspaper photos of Batman flying with a new Robin & a memory resurfaces from the cloudy green tinted waters of his mind. An accidental fall. An unmourned death. An accusation.

A disownment.

"I'm not your father, Jason. I don't need your teenage rebellion."

Bruce had promised when he adopted Jason that he would always have a home at Wayne manor. That Jason was his son now & they were a family. For a homeless orphan that meant the world.

But he lied. He'd broken his promise. Bruce buried him out in the public cemetery next to Sheila, not even in a Wayne family plot. He'd washed his hands of his rescue mutt & picked up a shiny new Boy Wonder of proper pedigree before year was even out.

What was the point of vengeance against a man who wasn't his father anyway? Make him choose between his code & some dead boy who wasn't his son?

What a joke.

Jason has no family & no home... right?

"Call me at this number. I've been where you're at, and I'm a good listener."

Dick had never answered, but he was in space on a mission, and Jason hadn't waited for him. Maybe he could try one last time. His brother owes him that one favor, right?

Maybe they could even bond over being disowned & replaced by a newer model.

/breaks into Dick's apartment to say hi/

It takes an alarming amount of time for Dick to realize that Jason's not a hallucination.

Jason is torn between being touched that Dick had missed him enough to hallucinate him and utterly horrified because-

"How often do you hallucinate me, Dick?!"

"..."

"Dick!"

/look he was exposed to a lot of fear&jokes gas in his formative years ok!? it's not his fault/after some hysterical Spiderman Meme pointing they get around to blood tests/

Maybe Robin Magic is real after all because the tests all come back positive in the 99th percentile with an unmistakable trace of Lazarus water.

/A lot of gross snotty crying/

Jason refuses to go back to Gotham & begs Dick not to tell Bruce.

"Bruce is not my father. He made that clear before I- before."

/bruce apparently never gave dick the full story because he hadn't Known the full story & made a bunch of victim-blamey assumptions/Jason talks about Garzonas, but more importantly about Sheila/Dick is heartbroken for Jason but mostly PISSED/

Dick is going to kill Bruce. Some genius he is. When Bruce had adopted Jason, Dick really thought the man was going to do better by the kid. That Bruce had learned from his mistakes with Dick. It had been half the reason he'd been so mad at him & so jealous of Jason in those early days.

Turns out Bruce had learned jackshit.

He promises not to tell. He won't break anymore promises to Jason.

/

"Can I stay with you? Just for a bit? Till I figure out what I'm gonna do. Where I'm gonna go."

It's almost cute that Jason thinks he'll be going anywhere anytime soon.

Dick's not letting his little brother out of his sight ever again.

"Of course Little Wing.

/

Jason's face crumbles, burying his face into Dick's shoulder, curling his startlingly broad shoulders in like he was trying to fold himself to fit into his big brother's arms. God, he had gotten so big. Bigger & taller than Dick.

How cruel. How unfair. Little brothers aren't supposed to outgrow their big brothers. It's illegal!

He channels the outrage into trying to squish Jason small again. If he could just hug him tight enough

/more gross crying & a good hug, eventually they sit on the ground with some Swiss Miss cocoa Dick unearths from his cabinets/

"You could be Flamebird!"

"...weren't they like mates or something?"

"Well, kinda..."

"EWW! That's disgusting Dickhead!"

"They were Partners! Most people dont even know that part-"

"well I have to know about it!"

Then Jason eventually goes out as Nightwing's partner: Shrike? Phoenix? (i really don't like Flamebird, it's so clunky) Batman hears about it & is like who tf is that? Dick tells him to f off.

Tim & Babs both get nosy like they do, but Jason visits Babs & bribes her to keep quiet about him with killing the Joker & making it look like an embarrassing accident. She's mad at Bruce about Steph or something & would've kept quiet anyways.

Tim i couldn't decide what to do with. I feel like he would stalk nightwings new partner & rat to Bruce about Jason because He thinks it will fix Bruce even if he was told Jason didn't want it. Timothy (What are Boundaries?) Drake

ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. oh I love this thank youuuuuuuu.

I fear I simply... Do Not Like Tim lol. so I can't help with that bit.

They make me so ill though. I love them

[cringefaecompilation]

anyways i was sad about bell's hells not getting to have episode 100 for themselves and having to wait for episode 102 to return, and then i had another thought. have any of them even been in the show for 100 episodes? let's have a look and see how long each member of bells hell's has stayed in the game.

braius doomseed takes up the back, with only his singular live show debut episode to his name. chin up, buddy. you'll probably have more. i'd love to have another 99 episodes, but i can't help but feel like he'll only be so lucky to get in the low 50s.

next is bertrand bell, who prior to bell's hells showed up in the search for grog and the search for bob. he also appeared in a non-canon one shot but as it's non-canon, we will move onto campaign three. he died at the end of episode three, so only five episodes in total.

third from last is dorian storm. he had an optimistic head start with exandria unlimited bagging him an extra eight, but since he vanished fourteen episodes in and only returned in episode 92, that leaves him with 30, counting the kymal two-part series. at least he's in the double digits.

shooting up by a massive margin we have chetney, who first appeared in episode seven and has been with the party ever since. excluding the episodes from the split arc, he has been in 79 episodes, leaving him with only 21 episodes before he hits 100! if he rolls that percentile 20 episodes in, i'm going to be so pissed.

a bit higher than chetney is the late, great fresh cut grass. excluding the episodes from the split arc, they permanently sit at 86 episodes. they would have only needed 14 more episodes to make it to 100.

laudna and ashton are tied for 89 episodes excluding the episodes from the split arc, as both were incapacitated for 3 additional episodes due to circumstances beyond their control. they both need only 11 more episodes to reach 100. however, if we do not count the moment from between the boughs as laudna appearing as a party member, she's at 88 episodes and thus would need 12 episodes.

imogen has been here for every episode except for the split. that leaves her with a cool 93 episodes and only 7 episodes left until she hits 100.

orym also had a head start with exandria unlimited. subtracting the split, he's at 99 episodes on the dot. just let that thought sit with you for the next 3 episodes like a hangnail.

what shocked me the most with this dumb little bit of research is that fearne has been in 100 episodes! 101 to be exact. the split did nothing to slow her down and she celebrated her 100th episode by summoning her demon friend with benefits, good for her! good for her.

[z-iridest]

Hi, can you do a pov of the yu-gi-oh boys finding out you’re pregnant

(I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO! I love this idea, Anon! {as if I didn't have a good enough excuse to have baby fever XD})

Finding Out You're Pregnant (Yu-Gi-Oh Boys x Female reader)

Yugi Moto

If Yugi's being honest with himself, he's always dreamed of having a family with you since the two of you started dating five years prior

But, since you wanted to wait until the two of you were married, he respected that wish, showing his affection in any way he could think of (flowers just because, kisses and hugs and gentle touches that he knew made you melt)

Once the two of you were married, though...

Let's just say that night was pretty damn spicy

Fast forward about 2 months

You'd been feeling extremely nauseous lately, most days beginning either with that feeling or by throwing up.

When talking to Téa about your symptoms, she suggested taking a pregnancy test

Yugi, like the sweetheart he is, waited outside your shared bathroom, pacing a little bit

He couldn't help it, he was nervous!

But, when you came out of the bathroom a few minutes later and showed him the test result, he went from nervous to elated.

"We're gonna have a baby... We're gonna be parents!"

Does one of those moves where he picks you up and spins you before kissing you and your stomach

Good luck convincing Yugi to get you to do anything for the next 6 months or so lol, he can and will pamper you during your pregnancy

Yami Yugi/ Pharaoh Atem

Unlike Yugi, he hadn't really given kids much thought

But, he noticed the way your eyes lingered on children running past while the two of you were dating

After about two years, the question came up in a conversation the two of you had about the future

He admitted that he hadn't thought about it, but that he loved you and if he were to have children, he wanted them to be with you

About 2 years later, the two of you were married, and anxiously waiting for the results of a pregnancy test

Atem held you close, in that moment, he felt nervous

Even if that result did pop up with a positive, that wouldn't mean that he would be a good father...

When you saw the results, you were thrilled, but you saw the doubt in his eyes

You snapped him out of his thoughts with a touch, reminding him of the feats he's accomplished, and that any child would be lucky to have him as a father

It didn't really hit for him until he got to hold the baby in his arms 9 months later

The nurse had showed him how to hold a baby before placing the little one in his arms

It was pretty hilarious seeing him tense up with a look like a deer in headlights

But... The more he held the baby in his arms, the softer that look became and the more relaxed he was

"I promise my son/daughter... I'll do everything I can to protect you" He promised before gently kissing the baby's forehead

Overall, just a big softie for his little prince/princess

Joey Wheeler

Believe me, with all my heart, I wanna say that Joey was calm and collected when he found out, but... He wasn't (the picture is pretty close to his reaction, honestly)

Joey has always wanted kids, don't get me wrong

Buuuut, he wasn't expecting to have kids this early

For context, you guys were two years into the relationship, but you'd used protection

The only problem is that the one specific time in question fell into the 3 percentile that condoms aren't effective....

He was in a panic when he found out

"Huh?! But, we used protection an' all dat... Didn't we?"

When he looked at you, you were crying, which only made him panic more

"No, no, no, baby, don't cry. It's gonna be all right. We'll figure this out togetha, I promise."

True to his word, he was at every Dr's appointment, every checkup, and at your side every moment of the delivery

All the while during the pregnancy, much like Atem, he was extremely nervous about being a father

He didn't exactly have the best father to compare to....

But, all those doubts faded away when that baby was placed in his arms for the first time

He smiled softly, a smile that told you he was gonna be a sucker for his kid

Good luck getting the baby away from him, because he wants to be there all the time

Seto Kaiba

As for Kaiba....

He's a CEO and a Duel Monsters Champion, he doesn't have time for kids

Except for Mokuba, but that's his brother...

So, when you found out you were pregnant, you were understandably nervous and afraid

Afraid that the worst would happen, that Seto would leave you and want nothing to do with his child

While your fears were understandable, you forgot that Seto Kaiba has a soft spot for his loved ones, you especially

You tried to avoid him, but a couple days of that had him pinning you against the wall in his office to get you to talk to him

He was worried about you, and asked you what was going on, telling you to be honest with him

He was more alarmed when you broke down

Through tears, you told him you were pregnant, and he was the father

He held you close to him, his heart breaking when you begged him not to leave you

"I'm not going anywhere." He made you look at him. "I won't lie, the thought of being a father scares me... But, I promise, I'm going to do everything I can to be the best father I can be."

Seto Kaiba is, above all things, a man of his word

When Seto wasn't around, Mokuba helped you out, and you better believe that baby's been spoiled since before their birth...

Once he held the baby for the first time (ngl, the sight of his giraffe self cradling a tiny baby is both endearing and hilarious), it was hook, line and sinker

Safe to say, he ended up being a better father than he gave himself credit for

(Again, I'm SO sorry this took a while! But, hopefully you enjoy it!)

[pellowinksx]

Heyyy

Love your blog, it helped me understand law of assumption a lot better.

So basically I have known about subliminals for 2 years (never really saw results only a few ig) but just recently like 18-20 days ago I found out what true manifestation and law of assumption is. Like it was around 10 days before my entrance exam for university. I took a year back for this exam actually.

When I gave it last year i messed up real bad and didn't even get an average score or a score to get into any university. So I asked my parents to give me another chance and decided to give it another year. I started my preparation again in june. And also this exam basically have 2 attempts per year one in January and then in April.

As the syllabus is huge so in January I wasn't able to complete my whole syllabus properly and was anxious so I messed up a little and got an average score (still tough to get a university with 82 percentile) and then 15 days before in April even tho I was prepared this time I panicked and was anxious so I couldn't revise or study anything in the 15 days before exam and also applied law of assumtpion in a negative way being anxious and all ig.

Also like 10 days before my exam was the time when I truly started to get to know what law of assumption is. But as I was anxious panicked and just so stressed I kinda underperformed in both my attempts this year specially the April one like the number of questions I attempted aren't enough to get me 99 percentile (which is the score to get a good college) and like there were 15+ questions that I could have attempted if only I revised and didn't panic and also I got a few questions wrong ig due to silly mistakes.

And students mostly said that they found the exam easy so I need more marks to get better percentile and now idk I am scared I am not even going to touch 90 (at this much percentile I will atleast get a college not a good one but a college) and I want to revise that I have got 99 or atleast 95+ percentile (for that as this is a computer based exam i need to attempt more questions and change the wrong ones to correct) so that I can atleast sit in the next level and as I took a year back for this exam like last year I really really messed up and then this year I just got average percentile all due to silly mistakes and anxiety.

I am also really in regret (one of the worst feeling out there it make me feel this weird twist and idk my hands keep shaking and it's very weird) because I could have attempted so many questions if I revised like I have literally done those questions before and on that day I couldn't I even wanna revise the experience honestly just relive from March but I don't want to focus on manifesting or shifting timelines to March rn as I have only 3-4 days in my result.

I am scared I will get less than January or wouldn't even touch 90 (it's scary to even think about it as this is a thought that crosses my mind alot through the day so I am scared I'll end up manifesting it) I told my parents I attempted 43 questions and would definitely get good marks and percentile which is a lie but I have been trying to revise so I told them that. But I only attempted 29 out of which I got one wrong and the rest I didn't check.

The answer and response key is going to be out in a day or two but I am scared to check as I probably will end up reacting to it or giving up. This exam decides my university and in my country it's really important to get into a good one for good future. I am constantly anxious and as I try to decide or persist the logic keeps coming to me and I feel anxious through the day as I tell myself I have got 96 percentile already and affirm that.

It's like deep down a feeling that I will see something else the undesired result. When I have this thought I tell myself or visualize me telling a success story that I had these thoughts but see I still got it. But I was doing this before the exam too but it still didn't go well even tho it could have even with just 2 days of study like the syllabus is huge but I could have done so much better and easily got 96 percentile of I studied just for 2 days and trusted myself.

I can't let go of this guilt and regret. I feel so bad for my parents as they support me so much and at the end I ruined it. My biggest wish is to relive it honestly not to just get the result. But first I want to change the result get a good one and then focus on going back in time and living from that time again. I am more in a hopeful state that a knowing state.

I have manifested alot of things in my life since my teenage like I started considering myself a wasted potential and dissapointment to my parents and even tho I was so intelligent and known as gifted student all these thoughts started reflecting in the 3d. My keep telling my mom that I will get atleast 95+ percentile but I am scared cuz deep down ik how it will be bcuz I haven't attempted enough questions and have also got a few wrong.

I don't know what to exactly assume or do. I have also used void state subliminal to get into void state and have entered it unaware before too on my first few days of trying it. I want to just change my January result to 99 percentile from 81.7 and have memories that it has always been like this and I am already studying for the next level which would also Mean me having more subject knowledge and notes I made since January.

I also keep calculating potential percentile and idk it's so scary specially cuz alot of students found the exam easy and I could tell that too as it had lots of questions which I knew but couldn't do as I didn't revise. I keep trying to do something to manifest as I am scared if I stop and it doesn't show up because of me I will not be able to face My parents.

Since last year I hid myself as I was ashamed and embarrassed that I got really poor percentile even tho I could have done better if I studied but I was in a bad state of mind back then it was very weird. And I am scared even tho its better than last year this is what my peers were were getting last year and they didn't end up in good colleges and even after taking a year back I will have to go to such colleges and hide again.

I don't want to do that. I want to be proud of myself and get into the best college. Rn I just have 3-4 days in my result and also this time all my relatives and everyone will ask the result and idk I am scared I will be embarrassed or idk I just want to change all this get the result I want and maybe relive since March or January again.

Idk what advice I am asking but something that could get me atleast 95 percentile in this exam and clear for the next round before my result.

Hiii my love, glad my blog helped you out!! Well, you can definitely use any epiphanies to your advantage. Listen, manifestation isn't a little transaction "I hope I get something" whatever you decide will definitely manifest. And don't be scared things will be okay I promise.

Okay if you want 95 percentile then...affirm for it. Just like anything else. I suggest you try walking around and rampaging your affirmations with a little attitude to it, like- "UGH I'm literally so smart I aced this exam??" Or you can do sats every night and imagine yourself passing all of your exams. And lastly, ignore anything that says otherwise. I get that manifesting on a time crunch can be a little stressful so try not to count down the days (I get it it's hard) I don't really recommend the void state on a time crunch manifestation because it can get so stressful and you will feel as if you're wasting time. so REALLY you can just do this:

Robotically affirm you manifest instantly and easily throughout the day so that you can saturate without putting your desires on a pedestal.

At night before bed either do a saturation session or sats (whatever works best for you <3)

Happy manifesting, you got this anon!

[lost-walmartbag]

Kenny x Reader pt 4

Warning: Swearing, drinking

Background: Kyle and Stan enact plan B to get Kenny to stop drinking away his depression

Status: Ongoing

Previous part

Next part

'Ice cold loneliness'

"Come on Kenny this isn't good for you," Kyle said trying to get Kenny to leave the party they were at.

Ever since you had rejected Kenny he hadn't been doing well. He would go out partying every night just so he can drink. He'd drink until he couldn't stand and then would pass out. Kyle had been worried and tried to get him to stop every party he went to and ended up being the one who took him home. No one else really wanted to get involved but Kyle couldn't stand back and let him do this. Kenny groaned as he finished his drink and picked up another.

"Come on Kenny she isn't worth all this," Stan said.

"Don't fucking talk about her like that." Kenny spat putting down his drink.

"Look what we're trying to say is, getting shitfaced every night won't make it better," Kyle said putting his hand on Kenny's shoulder.

"She thinks I cheated on her! She's fucking scared of me." He spat out pushing Kyle's hand off of him.

"Yeah look there's a girl over there who's eyeing you maybe you should go for it. Get your mind off things." Stan said pointing to a girl across the room who was indeed looking at Kenny.

She wasn't ugly in fact she was very pretty, but to Kenny, she looked disgusting. Kenny shot her a dirty look for even daring to not be you. It was enough to scare her and make her look away. Kyle sighed and took his arm.

"Come on Kenny we should go."

"No," Kenny grumbled drinking the rest of the contents in his cup.

"Look dude you really don't want us to do our plan B because clearly plan A has not been working," Stan said clearly losing his patience.

Kenny rolled his eyes and turned back to the drinks on the table. Kyle pulled Stan away and glared at him.

"Dude I don't know if we should do that," Kyle said whisper-shouting.

"Look Kyle we have been doing this for 2 weeks already he isn't going to fucking stop if this is all we're doing," Stan said frustratedly.

"Do you think I want to be doing this? It feels like I'm the only one who cares if he kills himself or not." Kyle spat out.

"Well if you care so much you'd want to actually do plan B," Stan said taking out his phone and dialing a number.

You've been trying to do better after the breakup it hadn't been easy for you but not as bad as it was for Kenny. After the breakup, you took five AP classes just so you were always busy with homework. You were sitting in bed trying to figure out what the fuck a percentile was when your phone started ringing. You quickly pick up not even looking at who it was as you kept reading your textbook.

"Hel-"

"Y/N you need to get down here quick it's Kenny he's not doing good!" Stan yelled into the phone immediately making your blood run cold.

"Where are you I'll be right there!" You shout jumping out of bed and grabbing your keys, you didn't bother to change out of your sleepwear and robe.

"We're at that warehouse on 5th just try to get here as fast as you can," Stan said and immediately hung up.

You were panicking as you speed to the warehouse. A million thoughts ran through your head as you tried your best not to break too many laws. Stan looked over at Kyle and smiled proudly.

"Dude what the fuck we agreed not to do that," Kyle said.

"Had to make sure she'd get here as fast as she could," Stan said with a shrug.

You arrived soon after bursting through the door and immediately running to Kyle and Stan with tears in your eyes. You grip Kyle's shirt as your legs barely kept you up.

"Where is he? Is he ok?" You ask through your tears.

Kyle and Stan immediately grow uneasy at your reaction. This was definitely not a part of the plan. Stan shakingly points at Kenny who had his back turned to you guys as he drank. You let go of Kyle and look up at him and Stan.

"W-what but you said.." You started as the reality hit you that you sped through three stop signs in your robe and slippers for nothing.

"Y/N I'm so sorry we didn't mean to make you think.." Kyle started and looked over to Stan for help.

"We just need your help he's been doing this for weeks," Stan said trying his best not to trigger you.

You take a deep breath and wipe away your tears. You glare at Kyle and Stan sending a chill up their spine. You push past them and go over to Kenny tapping his shoulder.

"I'm not interested," Kenny grumbled not bothering to look back at you.

"Kenny." You say sternly making him turn around immediately.

His angry expression changed to one of just pure joy for only a second before it turned to one of pure sadness. He wanted to touch you but he was terrified you'd flinch under his touch. His hands started to shake as they didn't know whether to do what he wanted or to do what they knew they should. He just looked down at you like you were the only person in the room.

"What are you doing here? You know you don't know what to stop drinking. You can't keep doing this. Your friends are worried about you." Your lecture made his body soften.

It felt all too familiar. You gave the same speech before you two started dating it was what made him stop drinking for months. He knew it wasn't just his friends who were worried he could see how puffy your eyes were. He knew you had been crying and it broke his heart to think he may have been the reason.

"I-I." He stuttered out as his face turned red as a few people stared at the both of you.

"Kenny you look stupid. Getting shitfaced won't change anything and you know it. This isn't cute and it isn't productive. I don't want to come out here again in my pajamas to drag your drunk ass out of another lame-ass party." You say glaring at him with a cold expression.

He didn't respond only nodded. He felt so embarrassed that he would just listen to you like some dog. Stan and Kyle just watched closely as you took Kenny's hand making him clearly melt under your small touch. You begin to walk out but stop in front of Kyle and Stan.

"If you ever do some stupid ass shit like that again I'll fucking kill you." You whispered to them making them nod.

You walk out with Kenny and help him into the passenger seat of your car. You felt like a mother with her toddler as you put his seatbelt on him as he just sat there quietly with his hand on his lap and his eyes on you. You got into the driver's side and started driving to your house.

"I'm taking you to my place only because I know you don't like Karen seeing you like this." You say pulling into your driveway. "But you have to sleep on the couch."

"Thank you," Kenny said finally looking away.

You stayed quiet and got out of the car and then helped him out and into the house. He followed you quietly just enjoying the feeling of your hand on his again. He felt tears spilling out of his eyes as you sat him down on the couch.

"You aren't hurt are you?" You ask kneeling down in front of him to examine him.

"I-I'm so sorry Y/N...I'm so sorry." He said through tears.

You were a bit taken aback but you tried to ignore it. You just quietly took his parka off him and examined his arms and body to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt himself. He just kept crying and apologizing. You looked up at him and sighed.

"Get some rest, Kenny." You say laying him down on the couch and putting a blanket over him.

He sniffled and looked up at you. He wanted to touch you but was that ok? He couldn't. He watched as you walked back to your room and left him there in a warm room with his ice-cold loneliness. You went into your room and put away your textbooks and notebooks. You felt a wave of emotional exhaustion hit you at once and lay in bed hoping to remedy it.

You turned to your side and looked at your window. Memories of Kenny sneaking in when he didn't have to, just to be weirdly romantic flooded your mind. No matter how warm your blanket was knowing that Kenny was a room away made you feel so cold. Before you could even think about going to sleep you heard your door open and your mattress add more weight to it.

You knew why. You knew that this wasn't a good idea but when his arms carefully wrapped around you, you finally felt warm. You didn't say a thing just laying there as Kenny held onto you like you would wither if he held on too tightly. He pressed himself against your back and gently put his head against the back of yours just quietly taking in your floral scent.

You just felt tears fall from your eyes knowing that by the time morning came, you wouldn't want him to let go. You knew Kenny felt the same but your bodies hadn't received the same message. It felt so right but your brain was screaming, begging, pleading with you to make this emotional torture stop. You hated it. You hated that you couldn't bring yourself to listen to your own inner pleas. You didn't want it to end as your tangled bodies slowly slipped into a euphoric sleep.

A/N: Thank you for your guy's patience lately ik I've been so weird with my uploads so hopefully this makes up for it. @luujjvi this for you <3 mb it took a lil longer than I thought. Anyway, love ya'll, literally don't know what I'd do without you love you all thank you so much for reading. 🩷🩷🩷

[sonicasura]

Despite the urgency of the situation and their own barely contained rage, the Omnitrix user knew not to rush things. First off? Was all of Sector Seven corrupt or had they merely been an organization that went to far when presented with the chance to study an alien relic? It made them feel slimy, but they used Skystinger’s blooming psychic abilities to gain first impressions of most of the agents.

A small handful were genuinely concerned with their nation’s security against alien threats. This “Agent Simmons” fell into that small handful even if he was about a step away from letting power go to his head. Skystinger dutifully sent him a cryptic daydream about how the general public rarely responded well to being lied to.

The public at large had been paranoid about the government watching them post WWII for a reason. Yes, the secret operations were formed to protect people from specific threats… But when the protection surpasses the sustainability of invading their lives? Other people have gone too far off noble intentions.

(Simmons messaged his temples to chase away the blooming headache from a dream after pulling a few all-nighters. His profession must have been leaking into them, he was dreaming about things from his old US history class…)

——————————

Unfortunately, most of the agents were far too eager to crack open the alien robot. Whether it be unrestrained scientific curiosity or simply no longer having to worry about “it” activating. A truly slim percentile were assholes and xenophobics who shared similar regards to Mandroid.

The AllSpark had slowly begun reformatting itself microscopically in preparation to separate from its boxy frame. Admittedly, the plan all three neutral beings had whipped up was half-brained. But! The Terran’s universe’s AllSpark had lamented about not having such a direct connection to its children. Dart had remembered threatening to give that one it’s own frame so they could throttle it…

What better way to test if they could create a frame capable of withstanding the equivalent of the Cybertronian Gods Spark than here?Materials for it were already containing the AllSpark itself and it wouldn’t be the first time the Omnitrix created a cybertronian.

Granted, this would leave the AllSpark arguably more vulnerable in a way most cybertronians were to their own weaponry. Yet being unable to move on its own was definitely worse.

.

.

.

Megatronus Prime would meet his maker. Whether he joined the Well or not depended on what he had to say. Dart had managed to argue for at least hearing the Fallen Prime out, if only to get the Decepticon side of the story.

They were already gearing themself up for snuffing out another spark…

——————————

‘Lord High Protector.’

In the icy depths of stasis, his processor barely stirred. There was a comforting EM field of some being he had been so close yet so far from.

‘Lord High Protector.’

Outwardly, his Spark did not stir. He would not let the organics have the satisfaction.

‘L—Megatron.’

Whatever slow start up his processor had initiated was startled into being online.

‘…Your Radiance?’

‘Who knew a version of him could be respectful?’

There was non-cybertronian presence within the spark link. Megatron attempted to sever it only to find a fierce wall blocking his attempts. Both from the mysterious being and the AllSpark itself…

‘I will attribute that to your surprise, High Lord Protector. Otherwise—I’d be dissatisfied you attacked the Ally who shall free us both.’

He knew he narrowly avoided angering the being who could chose to snuff out his spark and send him into the Well.

‘My apologies, your Radiance. I was caught off guard… Do you truly mean we shall be free of these organics prodding?’

‘Yes.’

Megatron had to temper his spark to not give anything away to the sensors those pests set up.

‘Then, I shall endeavor not to attack your Ally on sight once I am mobile.’

‘Excellent. Because what I ask next of you won’t be quite the simple personal feat…’

‘Anything for you, your Radiance, just say the word.’

‘Once we are free, take us to your namesake. Megatronus Prime.’

Even though the AllSpark came from Primus, the Decepticon leader felt as if he was in front Unicron itself at what the being asked of him.

—ROB’d Anon.

Really, the AllSpark should have an actual body in order to interact with its creations. It’s children. Simmon got a redemption arc in later movies so might as well kickstart it…

Good thing that Dart is able to find the small amount of good people amongst Sector Seven. I imagine some would've quit or spoken but chose not to from fear. The main government doesn't know this organization exists so its easier to make the riffraff disappear.

AllSpark is a creation of Primus thus can be equally terrifying. The Fallen doesn't know he's in for quite the rude awakening.

[relleytrots]

More questions! Would you consider having cross splat play for a group with v5, ww5, and h5? Have the mechanics been simplified/streamlined enough for that to be possible without being a huge headache?

Also, unrelated: I think in today's ttrpg terms WoD5 wants to be a "fiction first" type of game. It definitely has introduced some features that add support in that way, such as the relationship maps, considering Coterie type, and the touchstones. But I think some of its mechanics still cleave to that "simulationist" mindset of the 90s and aughts, and get in the way of what the narrative does well 😅

This is a bit meandering, but I hope you gain something from it anyway.

So for my money, the big issues with cross splat play are thematic. Vampire and Werewolf are asking different questions of their players, and pursuing different kinds of horror. For all that they're nominally set in the same world, they don't fit right when they're shoved in next to each other. It's like how comics crossovers reduce the cosmic splendour of interplanar warfare between godlike entities and the workaday world of a nerdy student/photographer to a sort of spectacular slurry when they're put together - it can be fun, but it feels like less than the sum of its parts because none of them are getting to do what they were designed for.

Hunter is the exception. I think Hunter can dovetail with another splat reasonably well, because the Hunters are real people in over their heads and confronting a supernatural horror; a premise that can adapt to whatever kind of horror the other splat is presenting. Hunter also has tidier mechanics, which brings me to the "why I, specifically, wouldn't include Werewolf in a crossover" part.

When I've checked out Apocalypse in the past, I've found it aggressively America-centric (why do werewolves in the Celtic nations or the Balkans use terms from the First Nations?), not quite selling the "melting pot" pack (maybe this is me, but I feel like a werewolf pack should all be from the same tribe and differentiated by something else, like auspice), and worst of all - dull. Between Tribes and Gifts and Auspices and Spirits and five different statblocks it's managed to make pretending you're a werewolf fussy and pedantic.

I like trad games. I came up with Call of Cthulhu and WFRP. Pass me the percentile dice, we're going in! But the strength of V5, specifically, is that it's modular. From "only players roll" to "only simple conflicts" to "right, look in the back of the book for a combat move", V5 scales to an extent where it can be mechanically present, imposing the bare minimum of Hunger and Predator Type, in even a fairly lightweight chronicle - or it can go full tradgame, if you want it to!

The trouble with the wider WOD, in my opinion, has been the development outwards from Vampire. Most of the splats have started with Vampire's mechanics (an equivalent to blood points, humanity, disciplines, clans and so on) and adapted them and developed on top of them, which means they end up overburdened because they weren't working out from a neutral core. (CofD sidestepped this by starting with the human-focused core game and building very similar sets of numbers into the different splats, one direction at a time.) Combine that with the ever more convoluted world-building of the One World of Darkness conceit - you and I know that no amount of "the Lupines from Vampire aren't the Garou from Werewolf" holds up to the way the Revised books were written - and by the time you get to Wraith, both the system and the setting are overdeveloped and creaking at the seams.

I bring up Wraith because I really, really want Wr5 (technically it'd be the fourth edition, but whatever). I want a Storytelling Game of Psychological and Survival Horror, something that interrogates why the dead haunt the living and poses that as its central question. You can keep your Kingdoms and your Legions, but they're the threats that drive the playable ghosts into the periphery - they've made unacceptable compromises to survive deeper into the Shadowlands, closer to Oblivion. The Guilds offer another way - true death staved off by staying close to the truly alive. Maybe that's been the premise of Wraith all along, but I got the impression the game as published was more interested in building Stygia as a dark fantasy adventure than in ghost stories.

You're not wrong though: the WOD games have always existed in the space between blow-by-blow gun-catalogue tradgame and experimental, experiential storygame. When they're good, they turn that space into a sliding scale. When they're bad... well, when they're bad they're the detailed rules for kung fu in Requiem. The whole thing runs better when you're fiction first, but retain just enough risk/resource management that the mechanics get to intrude and remind you that you're not playing heroes. You are the monster. The more action you take, the more those trackers move. The Hunger is rising. When will you Rage?

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Amanda

Summary: Ferb meets his first niece.

...

“Ferb,” Phineas breathed, “she’s so tiny.”  Ferb couldn’t think of much to do except nod in agreement.

Their niece lay squirming and crying on the padded table in front of them, and Ferb would admit he was struggling to not reach out and scoop her up, even though they weren’t supposed to do that yet.

Instead, he pulled out his phone, snapped a bunch of pictures, and then sent them all to the group chat with their friends.

Isabella responded immediately, an “OMG!!!!!” with a whole bunch of different colored hearts and squee-ing emojis.  Buford sent a response a second later, a short “I approve of this small human,” along with a thumbs up.  Baljeet asked to know her size and weight and whether or not she was in the healthy percentile.

Ferb sent a quick response to Baljeet, then put his phone away and turned back to face Amanda again.  Phineas at this point had reached out and was running his hand over her fingers.

“She’s so small,” Phineas whispered.

Ferb smiled a little, slightly amused that Phineas of all people had been rendered nearly speechless, but also totally understanding.  She was, in fact, very small.

“Ferb,” Phineas said suddenly, turning to him.  “We have uncle responsibilities now, we have to take this very seriously.  We have to tell her all of Candace’s embarrassing childhood stories and let her get away with way more than Candace and Jeremy do so she thinks we’re cool.”

Ferb snorted, grinning at him.  “Somehow I don’t think Candace or Jeremy would appreciate that very much.”

“But those are our uncle responsibilities, Ferb,” Phineas said, getting a mischievous gleam in his eye.  “They can’t be mad at us if we’re being responsible.”

Ferb laughed again, shaking his head.

“Also we have to teach her all of the best ways to build stuff.  We should start with wiring, cause that could be bad if you mess it up, but we can leave the framework stuff up to her.  I’d actually love to see what she comes up with before she learns how it’s all ‘supposed’ to be done.”

“I don’t know if she’ll be super interested in building things for a couple years, Phineas,” Ferb said with a pointed smile.  “She might never be, actually.  Xavier and Fred were the ones who seemed more interested when we visited the future, and they won’t be around for a bit.”

“Well that’s true, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair to only teach them,” Phineas said, looking back at Ferb.  “Amanda doesn’t have to be interested, but I’m not going to not give her the opportunity just cause that’s what I expect from secret future knowledge.  I’m not going to treat Candace’s children any differently from each other, thank you very much.”

He prefaced this with a firm nod, and Ferb had to admit he had a fair point there.  He didn’t want Amanda to think any opportunities weren’t available to her.  They could offer the same things to each kid and let them tell them what they preferred, or let them ask for something else.

“How much have you thought about this?” Ferb asked with a curious look at Phineas.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we met them in the future, Ferb,” Phineas said, like that should be obvious.  “We’re uncles now, we have to take this very seriously.”

Ferb smiled at him in part amusement, part fondness.  Phineas certainly wouldn’t have to worry about that, he was clearly very serious about this.

Ferb turned and smiled back down at Amanda, who at this point had mostly stopped crying and was instead making small noises and shifting around, looking very unhappy with her situation.

Both of them stood there for another minute just looking at their niece, who continued to squirm and fuss.

“She’s so small,” Phineas whispered again, and Ferb smiled over at him.

A knock came on the door the next second, and both of them turned to see their dad poking his head in.

“Candace is awake, boys, if you’d like to see her,” he said.

“Oh heck yeah!” Phineas called, turning around with a grin.

“Is she doing alright?” Ferb asked.

Dad laughed a little bit.  “As well as she can be, considering,” he said, and they all headed out and down the hall as the nurses headed back in the room with Amanda.

Candace’s room was just down the hall, and she was in fact sitting up in bed when they all walked in there, Jeremy sitting at one of her sides and Mum at the other, and Perry curled up on Candace’s lap, looking up at her as if he was watching for anything she’d need him for.  For an animal that didn’t do much, he really could be very sweet.

“Next time,” Candace was saying to Jeremy as they all walked in, “you’re having the baby.”

Jeremy chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss to Candace’s forehead.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Candace!” Phineas called, rushing over towards the bed and ending up next to Jeremy.  “Do you know how tiny Amanda is?”

“I do,” Candace said weakly, leaning her head back on the pillow.  “And I’m gonna need you to take it down to about Ferb’s level, Phineas.”

“Whoops, sorry,” Phineas said with a sheepish smile, lowering his voice.  “She’s just so little, and I already love her so much.”

“I do too,” Candace said with a soft smile.

Ferb walked up along with their father and joined Phineas on the other side of the bed, as Dad headed over next to Mum.

He gave Candace a gentle smile that she returned, reaching out and ruffling Ferb’s hair before smiling at him and Phineas both.  “I’m glad you guys are here,” she said.

“Me too,” Phineas said, and Ferb nodded in agreement.  “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted, hungry, like I just had a baby,” Candace said, looking up at the ceiling.

Their mum laughed from the other side of the bed.  “Welcome to the wonderful world of motherhood,” she said.

Candace gave her a small smirk.  “Thanks.  It gets easier from here, right?” she asked, and Mum and Dad both laughed.

Jeremy leaned in and kissed Candace on the forehead again, murmuring something that Ferb was pretty sure was some kind of expression of pride.  The two of them took a minute to smile at each other, and then Candace turned back to face everyone.

“Okay, I need another nap,” she said.  “Everybody out.  Not you,” she amended at the last second, grabbing Jeremy’s arm.  “Get up here in this bed and cuddle with me.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Jeremy asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

“I already told you, you’re having the baby next time.  You can get special treatment then.”

Jeremy laughed a little again, then climbed into the bed next to Candace, moving Perry gently so he could continue laying on top of her while they both laid down.

Their Mum leaned over and gave Candace a kiss on the top of her head, smiling down at her for a second, and Dad did the same a second later before the two of them headed out.

Phineas turned back to Candace one last time, leaning in and giving her (and Jeremy too, mostly due to proximity) a quick gentle hug, while watching to be careful of Perry.

“Ferb and I are gonna be awesome uncles for her,” he said, grinning brightly at Candace.  “Just wait.”

Candace smiled at him, and then at Ferb too, looking fond.  “I don’t have to,” she said.

Ferb felt his chest swell with all of the joy this day had brought, and he moved forward to give Candace and Jeremy a hug of his own.

Candace hugged him back, then reached over and pulled Phineas back in, and all four of them sat there for a moment together.  After a second, Perry crawled up in between them all and perched himself on Candace’s shoulders, wrapping himself around her almost as if joining in on the hug himself.

“Okay,” Candace said finally, picking Perry up and handing him off to Phineas.  Ferb could hear the wetness in her voice as she gently pushed them all back.  “I wasn’t kidding about needing another nap.  Both of you out.”

“I’ll call you when she wakes up,” Jeremy said, giving them a nod as he wrapped his arm around Candace.

So with that, Ferb followed Phineas and Perry out the door, giving a wave behind as Candace was already curling into Jeremy to fall asleep.

Perry looked behind them as they did, not seeming to want to leave.

“Aw, I know bud,” Phineas said, holding Perry out slightly so he could talk to him.  “I want to stay there too.  But Candace needs her rest.  Hey, you haven’t met Amanda yet, have you?  I should ask the nurses if it’s safe to bring you into the room.”

Phineas headed off to do just that, and Ferb walked over to sit next to Mum and Dad, who were both sitting there holding each other’s hands, not saying much.  They gave him a smile as he approached, but didn’t say anything, which was alright with Ferb.  Sometimes there weren’t words to say, and right now, they could all just sit there and enjoy the feeling of having a new family member, and all the joys she would bring.