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occamstfs · 2 months

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Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew:

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #twinkification #jockification #straight to gay

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achubbydumpling · 2 months

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The Struggles of Being Too Fat for Fat Camp

This was inspired by an incredible video by @lardfill. Sadly, I can't find a current link to the video and I only have it as an mp4. But basically the entire second part in the kitchen is inspired by that.

Rating: Explicit Words: 2387 Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Weight Gain, Teasing, Name-Calling, pig, Bucky calls himself a pig, Belly Kink, No Lube, ...dish soap, it's inspired by a real video!, Fat Bucky Barnes, literally getting off from his own fat, Extreme Weight Gain, Mobility Struggles, out of breath, modern AU, Established Relationship

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Read the series on AO3

The inevitable conversation about moving in together came up earlier than Bucky had expected. Just after he’d entered cabin 13 Steve had already stood in the doorway, knocked on the door frame and wrung his hands.

“I’ve got a flat in town. Just until the end of summer, but, you know, you could move in. If you wanted to.”

Of course, Bucky had agreed to spend the rest of the summer there. No useless dieting rules that he wasn’t going to follow anyway, no annoying team sports and activities, and no one that expects him to lose any weight.

When they finally lived together, it didn’t take long for them to settle into a comfortable routine living together.

Steve would get up early to go for a run and to make breakfast. While Bucky spent another hour just lounging in bed with the sun shining on his face, slowly waking up to the quiet sounds of Steve moving around the kitchen.

However, today Bucky woke up to the soft press of Steve’s lips to his temple and his hand gently squeezing his plush side.

“Morning, sleepy head.” Steve could barely hide his amusement at Bucky’s wide-eyed look around. When he noticed Steve wearing his counsellor uniform already, Bucky tried to sit up. His efforts were hindered by the heavy weight of his belly.

“What time is it?” Bucky had to build up a bit of momentum first and Steve ultimately helped him scoot back to rest against the headboard.

“Almost half nine.”

Bucky sighed, “Wanted to eat breakfast with you.”

Steve’s expression softened and he tucked a stray strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.

"I didn't want to wake you up if I didn't have to."

Bucky couldn’t stop the warmth that bubbled up inside him. It built into a fond smile that pulled at his lips.

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

“Tomorrow.” Steve pulled a serious expression before he broke out into a smile again. “Do you want to stay in bed a bit longer or some help getting up before I leave?”

The sleep-warm duvet tempted Bucky to stay a bit longer, but he could feel the beginnings of hunger coil in his stomach. So, he stretched his arms out towards Steve, who gripped his hands tightly. Together they got Bucky on his feet and out of the bedroom in no time. Alone Bucky would’ve probably taken twice as long just to get up, but he needed fewer breaks when he could lean some of his weight on Steve.

Still, just the few weeks he had spent living with Steve had resulted in even more weight piling onto his already morbidly obese body. While Bucky didn’t feel much heavier, his doughy belly had gotten wider and softer and increasingly unwieldy. Where he used to be able to grab a good roll, now the fat was so pliable it almost slid out of his grip of its own volition.

This new development also led to his belly working more and more against him when Bucky tried to walk. It weighed on his thighs and swayed between his thighs with every step. The heavy swing always in opposition to the leg he needed to bring forward. His breathing was laboured from the moment he heaved himself out of bed and the sofa creaked dangerously beneath him he plopped down on it.

Steve placed the small folding table in front of Bucky and started loading it with a veritable breakfast buffet until it bowed under the weight of all the plates. Sweet and savoury, a stack of pancakes soaked in maple syrup, thick cut slices of bread with margarine melting into it and sprinkled with garden cress, two cinnamon rolls the size of Bucky’s palm and a bowl of thick, oatmeal topped with spoonfuls of peanut butter and halved plums.

“Here.” Steve handed Bucky a piece of grapefruit. “It’s really good. I had some for breakfast.” Steve smiled at the ground and shuffled his feet. ”Wanted to share.”

Bucky waited until Steve looked back up to say, “Thank you.”

“I’ll make dinner tonight, ok?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back. Fury planned some competition for the campers that could take until the evening,” Steve paused and grinned when he remembered the last year Bucky spent at camp,“or just a few minutes.”

With a kiss and a promise to call before the end of his shift Steve left the flat. Bucky could finally dig into the food Steve had prepared for him.

It didn’t take long for him to feel full, but Bucky didn’t get to his current size by stopping when he was full. With the bread and oatmeal gone, he started on the pancakes. The carbs were laying heavily in his stomach, he felt the familiar bloat settle in.

So, he set about eating the thick slices of freshly baked bread. His initial plan was to force them down quickly so he would be finished before the bloating really caught up to him, but when he bit into the first slice, he couldn’t help himself slowing down to savour it.

The crust crackled between his teeth and the soft middle was soaked through from the thick spread of margarine. On his first bite he noticed the faint taste of other herbs as well. The tang of the sourdough bread spread on his tongue and Bucky couldn’t hold back the content hum at the combination of the taste and texture of the still hand-warm bread.

Bucky warmed up the cinnamon rolls in the microwave and ate them as a late morning snack. Yesterday’s leftovers served as lunch to keep him comfortably full into the afternoon.The hours of stuffing slowly transitioned into himwatching TV, burping his way through the bloat and rubbing away the tightness in his stomach

After nursing away most of the pain, Bucky finally pulled out his laptop to work on some of his course assignments for after the semester break, but the contentment of a lazy morning and a still-full belly had him falling asleep on the couch without meaning to.

The late afternoon sun warmed Bucky’s face as he blearily opened his eyes. He groaned when he saw the low battery warning on his laptop. Bucky checked the clock — almost five — and then his phone for any messages from Steve. Even though a lazy sort of hunger curled at the back of Bucky’s mind when he looked down at himself he could still see the bloat from his extended breakfast. He could still feel the heavy weight of the food in his stomach.

Not for the first time Bucky was surprised just by how fat he was — how much fatter he was getting every day. He pulled his shirt up and splayed his hands over his upper belly, he couldn’t even cover half of it. Then he trailed lower, grabbed onto his sides and hefted his belly up to let it drop down again. It rippled through the fat all over his body and his dick gave an interested twitch.

I’m getting so fat, was all Bucky could think when he saw his belly continuing to move on its own like this. The smallest movement making it shake and jiggle, his fat moving in waves across his body. He grabbed the sides of his belly again and let it drop into his lap. Then he tried to reach over it, he reached his belly button and about a handbreadth beneath it, but he couldn’t actually reach the lowest part of his belly.Thick arousal started to cloud his mind.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned and scooted lower on the sofa. His hands dug almost painfully into the fat on his sides. He noticed how it spilled over the edge of the sofa even though he was pressed into the cushions of the backrest. Just exploring all this new softness had him half hard under the heavy overhang on his thighs. But he wanted to feel out the changes to his body some more.

His hands came up to his moobs and he lifted them each up and let them drop through his hands again. Bucky skimmed his finger over his nipples, they felt even more sensitive with just the weight he’d put on living with Steve, stretched out from gaining weight even there. He’d never really had pecs, always soft even at his lowest weight.

Bucky tried to get more comfortable. He splayed his legs as wide as he could, but the couch was barely wide enough to fit his entire body. He bent his knee and tried to get his heavy belly to pool to one side, to give him access to his dick.

Every one of his movements was followed by a grunt, just trying to move himself into position, a difficult task for someone Bucky’s size. He tried to heft his belly up and to the side, out of the way so he could finally get his fingers on his dick that was growing harder underneath his fat pad.

With his belly hanging over the side of the couch, however, it only felt like he was about to be pulled off by its weight. Bucky rolled more onto his side, angled his knee more, but no matter what all he could reach were his thigh rolls and his fat pad, he couldn’t actually get to his buried dick.

He tried one more time, adjusting his position and trying to work his way along his fat pad, but the furthest he ever managed to reach was just barely skimming the tips of his fingers over the tip of his dick.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed. Oh, God, I’m too fat to jerk off.

His emotions were all over the place. Partly in awe at how big he’d eaten himself, slightly shocked he’d ever let himself get this fat, but most importantly so incredibly turned on and he couldn’t do anything about it. Unless he got up and tried again in bed — more room to spread his legs and get his belly out of the way.

He pushed the folding table to the side and prepared himself to get up. His lower belly was trapped against his thighs, so he grabbed at that lowest roll to move the heavy overhang to droop between his legs. Then he scooted forward.

He couldn’t help the noises he made, moving this much mass forced grunts and sighs from his straining lungs. Once he got his body right to the edge of the sofa, he rocked back and forth to build up the momentum to get to his feet. The couch had been sagging lower every day, so he had to cover an even greater distance just to stand up.

Might as well get something to eat for after. So, instead of heading to the bedroom Bucky turned to the kitchenette. They kept snacks in the cupboards above the kitchen. Bucky was craving something salty and headed for the right side.

Opening the cupboard wasn't too difficult since Bucky could just grab the bottom of the door. However, reaching the chips he wanted was a different story. Of course, his favourites were high on the second level.

Bucky stretched upwards, going up on his toes just for his finger tips to barely graze the package.

The cold countertop pressing against Bucky’s belly startled him, but the enticing snack kept him going.

As he moved closer to try and reach the cupboard his fat pad pressed against the counter too and when he stretched up his fat pad almost spilled onto it. His belly and fat pad rubbing together against the cold hard counter.

That's when he got the idea.

He should have gone to the bedroom.

He should have lied down, gotten comfortable and used some actual lube, but he was here and horny and some watery dish soap seemed good enough for lubrication.

His inhales were stumbling over each other, a strangled sound and he had to slow down to actually take a breath. He lifted his belly, blindly searching for his fat pad before finally grabbing it and maneouvering his dick to rest on the counter too. When he let go of his belly, it added the most incredible pressure.

He could barely lift his entire belly up and then it slapped right back onto the counter, he moved on to just jiggling it, letting the counter take most of the weight of the fat apron on his front and just moving it by shaking and grabbing rolls all over it, letting the fat rub over his dick. Relishing in the feeling of having gained so much weight that he could fuck his own fat.

“Fat fucking pig,” Bucky said to himself in between wheezing breaths. Steve always defaulted to praise, but sometimes Bucky needed that humiliation. Someone telling him how much fatter he was gonna get if he kept eating more.

“Gonna get bigger, fatter.” Bucky’s thrusts were becoming erratic, his muscles were shaking with the effort to keep his hips driving forward against the counter.

“Please,” Bucky could barely get the word out with how ragged his breathing had gotten. Begging someone, anyone to let him come before his legs gave out.

A dull, tight pain had started settling in his joints, lactic acid built up in his thigh muscles. Still he kept up the shallow thrusts, even as it became increasingly difficult to command his body to keep going.

"Fuck," Bucky grunted, "I'm such a pig."

He tried to wrap his arms around his belly to adjust it one last time. So close to coming, racing against exhaustion. The very body he was getting off to, threatening to cut his orgasm short.

One last grunt and he was finally rewarded. Thick spurts of cum painting his belly, mixing with the soap suds.

His legs were shaking, knees threatening to buckle. He was holding himself up on the counter though his arms also quickly tired. With a last effort he made it to the chair in the kitchen and let himself fall down on it.

"What a work out," Bucky chuckled to himself, reverently running his hands over his belly.

And then his gaze fell on the chips packet that was tilting out of the cupboard, perfectly in reach if Bucky just stretched up a little.

#my writing #chubby bucky #fat camp bucky #fat bucky #chubby!bucky #chubby stucky #weight gain #belly kink #wg fiction

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softerandsofter · 1 year

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Overall, though, I just don’t understand how I can feel so big, so much bigger than I used to be, and still so small.

Like, I can get undressed and see the way my round thighs spread out when I sit on the bed to at least three times as big as they used to be. All of that is pure fat. It’s all weight I gained basically just in the last year, and it’s -so soft-, -so jiggly-.

And my belly rests on it (my gut, now?), just gently. It never used to do that before. The weight feels pleasant, and heavy. Just as heavy as I know I’d feel if I stood up again with that new, tiring effort that’s starting to be my new normal. I get why it takes so much— I feel huge. My body heaves from place to place now, which makes sense. It’s a lot of body, a lot of fat. My body takes up most of the sidewalk and the hallway. How long until it no longer fits?

Some days I wonder if It’s time to ease off the gas a little, enjoy my size, take it easy, before I start needing seatbelt extenders just to take a drive to the grocery store. I know I’m allowed to do that.

But then, sometimes, my eyes lose focus, and the worried part of me which is constantly analyzing and assessing takes a back seat, to everything else inside of me.

Can you imagine how lovely it would be to have my whole belly, at least twice this size, magnificently present out in front of me? Big enough to be the first thing people notice about me, to take up my whole lap? How many times have I dreamed of that, pictured my big smile, flanked by bigger cheeks?

How about those big, swollen breasts I always imagined pulling people into when I hug them? Those would be worth any little inconvenience, so what if I need to buy two plane tickets from time to time, because my (magnificent) ass can’t fit in one anymore?

It’s not like those fantasies are ever going to go away. I’ve tried for long enough to say ‘it’s just something to dream about’.

And my girlfriend’s making dinner.

And I’m getting pretty hungry.

And maybe this is just who I am.

#fat talk #fat fantasies

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kataiki · 1 year

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Back in August of 2022, I went and got diagnosed with ADD at the age of 36. The diagnosis was a surprise to nobody and was largely just a formality, if I'm being honest.

It's kind of amazing what I got away with growing up with ADD. I felt like people just kind of let me do my thing and it just kind of worked out. It's funny thinking back on the habits I had that most people would be disciplined for.

I was drinking like 6-10 sodas a day like it's no big deal. My parents didn't think it was a problem because I was active (Dance Dance Revolution), was desperate to gain weight (120lbs at 5'10), and did well in school (graduated with honors). Looking back, I was definitely self medicating with caffeine, but like, so what?

I think I would've had a harder time if someone was like "no more soda for you!" without considering how it was helping me along without the need for prescription drugs. I also didn't like coffee at the time (before they became milkshakes), so I probably would've struggled.

I can't believe I got away with the fidget toys, the ones before they were called fidget toys. I think I always had some kind of toy in my hands, and for some reason the teachers let me keep them. Mind you, I went to Catholic school for most of my life. Discipline was paramount, and yet I was just... allowed to have my toys.

My favorite was a plastic... snake ball puzzle? I guess it's a "Rubik's Twist", but I got it out of a vending machine for like 50 cents and I loved it. It was small, quiet, and kept my hands occupied during class. It feels like the kind of thing that would get confiscated, but for some reason I was just allowed to play with it.

The worst toy I got was in high school when I discovered those kneaded gummy erasers. I sketched a lot during class (another thing I was allowed to do for some reason), but the eraser was a toy. I would sculpt things in the middle of class, and do stuff like roll out pieces to make flowers. My hands smelled like rubber, pencil lead, and dead skin all the time. It was awful and I loved playing with it.

Even in college, I had my DS out all the time. I got my minor in mathematics while going through Super Princess Peach and Mario Kart DS (twice, I lose my save at one point).

My friends were jealous of my ability to multitask, but that's the funny thing, right? I was only really able to do well because my brain was engaged in these "distractions", which gave room for all the learning to really be absorbed. It wasn't really that I was able to play and do schoolwork at the same time. It was more like... I'm only able to do schoolwork while I play. Play was necessary for learning, and for some reason I was always allowed to do that.

I remember in grade school, we had a poll in the class about "how much TV were we watching", I think it was in context of advertising or something. A lot of the kids were like 1 hour a day or a few hours a week. I asked if it counted if the TV was on while I was doing other stuff, and it did, so I clocked in at least 6-8 hours a day.

I love my mom and dad for just letting my sister and I to enjoy things. I think I always had a TV in my room, including a small 12" CRT with a VCR built into it. They didn't care what we watched, either. I think their thought was that they wanted us to learn English, but they didn't know how to teach it. They learned by watching TV, so they figured my sister and I could learn by doing the same.

I remember using my TV as an alarm by setting it to turn on automatically in the morning. The guitar riff from the Pokemon Theme Song is a great way to juice up your adrenaline every morning. 10/10, highly recommend.

It was the golden age of Edu-tainment, too. Everything from Seseme Street, Eureka's Castle, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, Blue Clues, Captain Planet, Power Rangers, Animaniacs, etc etc was made for learning. It was mandated, and it was great. I kind of miss those days, especially when Cartoon Network turned into nothing but Gumball and Teen Titan's Go by the time I stopped watching them. There's a certain artistry in making learning fun in a way that doesn't feel like an animated classroom.

I just... don't know why all of this was allowed. Half a case of Soda a day. Video games during class. TV all day, every day. I feel like I'd be a suburban mother's nightmare, but I think it was what I needed. It's not like my parents knew anything about ADD, not that it mattered so long as the grades were good. They just let me go on auto-pilot while I jumped from interest to interest and enabled me when they could. Inadvertently, I think they did what I needed from them, even if it was against the grain of what everyone else thought would be "healthy parenting".

#add #adhd

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thefatiguedfatale · 2 years

Text

Fuck You

Fluff (?)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Swearing

Ao3

Summary: POV you have a temper that rivals Kid’s and it causes some problems.

A/N: I have only met Kidd twice. But the propaganda for him here is strong and I am easily swayed lol. So I wrote this. I will accept any and all feedback for this because I just wrote this based off of vibes and vibes alone. Enjoy <3

“Can the both of you please stop fighting for one moment. We're nearing the island soon and we need as much cover as we can get.” You barely heard Killer’s plea over the screaming match you were having with Kid. Not that clearly hearing it would have made any difference. You both were too deep in your argument to lose steam now. The crew stuck to the sides of the ship, not very eager to be anywhere either of you.

“You are such a fucking joke it's a miracle that you can even keep your crew alive for this long.”

“Don't you dare fucking disrespect my crew! If you don't need my help then you can gladly jump off this boat and swim back to whatever island you're from!”

The both of you stood within centimeters of each other. You stared daggers into his eyes, and the ones he stared back were just as sharp. The sheer anger radiating off the both of you left a hefty weight rolling around the deck of the Victoria Punk like a heavy fog.

“Then don't go fucking asking me for help when you gets lost in the jungles and get killed off one by one. I would say by the animals, but I'm pretty sure your stupidity would get them killed first.”

Killer could see the veins growing in both of your faces and decided that now was the time to intervene before a physical fight erupted, where either one of you were likely to actually throw each other off the edge of the boat. Killer did his best to stand between the sliver of space that was between the both of you as each of you continued to stare at each other in pure hatred. The both of you were brick walls, unwilling to move. Moving meant conceding to Kid and you would be damned before you moved for that bastard. The three of you stood within inches of each other. The rest of the deck was silent, slightly eager to see what would happen next.

You liked Killer a lot, he was a lot of good things. You liked that he was kind, considerate, and had much more of a level headedness to him than his captain. That last part you especially appreciated. It was only out of sheer respect for Killer that you huffed and backed away from Kid. Killer took the moment immediately pushing his way in between the both of you. He was now chest to chest with Kid.

He’s blocking his vision from me. Smart.

You maneuvered your way around Killer’s block and take the chance to stare daggers at Kid once again.

Killer did his best to calm down the both of you. He reminded each of you that there was something to gain for your own benefit by going to this island and that the both of you needed each other’s help to be able to reach your goals successfully.

“We need y/n’s help to navigate this island” he then turned to you, “and you need us to help you get what you need off that island to be able to help your people.”

Dammit Killer. He hit you where it hurt the most. A ragged breath escaped your lips as you succumb to Killer’s logic. Kid did the same, though it took him a bit longer to calm himself down.

“Fine.” you began to walk away into the Victoria Punk, into the room they had set up for you.

You walked by the both of them, purposely knocking your shoulder into Kid on the way past. Even though you did your best, you knew that it wouldn't have done any damage, but it would irritate him. Which was all that mattered.

You received your wish fairly quickly. He grunted, but before he could say a word Killer already had his hand on his shoulder, hoping to tame the beast that you tempted once more.

You did your best to keep your mouth shut. Cross your heart, you really did try. However, your urge to rattle the cage even more overtook you. And before you knew it, the words just slipped right out of your mouth.

“You're lucky that I like Killer so much, or else I would've dropped your dumbass into the bottom of the ocean by now.”

A sly grin grew on your lips.

“It helps that he’s cute too. Very easy on the eyes, even with the mask on.”

You didn't look back as you heard Kid loudly cussing you out and Killer trying desperately to calm him down again. You felt a little bad for pulling that stunt, but seeing the pure emotions that you could elicit from Kid was too good to pass up on.

You were writing down notes at your desk when you had started to hear the commotion. Hours had passed by, and you were sure that the crew was now preparing to dock the ship. You heard muffled yelling of commands and the stomps of heavy boots running past. The sound was becoming quite familiar to you in these past few months. But you also heard another sound that did not coincide with the melody of the docking of the ship. It was loud and sharp and abrasive and it absolutely put a small grin on your face. Ah yes, the chimes of success, in the specific tone of Kid’s frustrated stomping and yelling from above the deck as well. Your grin grew a bit wider as you heard that same disruptive stomping coming closer and closer towards your room.

He didn't hesitate to bust open your door. He was seething, but you loudly ignored his glares as you calmly sat down at your desk continuing to write.

In your calmest tone of voice, you greeted his grandiose entrance.

“Hello to you too.”

It took him seconds to stride across the room. Slamming the door shut before he does.

“‘Very easy on the eyes, even with the mask on.’” Kid mocks. “What the fuck was that?”

Swimming laps in a pool full of berries wouldn’t feel as good as you did right now watching your boyfriend seething at the compliment you gave his first mate. You choose to swim another lap as you gave him another calm and collected smile.

“I only speak the truth.”

He didn’t answer and choose to grimace instead.

You sighed at his dramatics and stood from your seat, walking straight towards his looming figure “You know I’m joking right? How would I even know how Killer looks under a mask that covers his entire face?”

A ‘tch’ came out of Kid’s mouth and he rolled his eyes

“Of course I fucking do. What do I look like, an idiot?”

You lay a hand against Kid’s tinted cheek.

“Of course you did.” You gave a small peck against the other cheek. “You are the only guy for me Kid. I promise.” You captured his lips in yours and immediately got lost in the kiss. Kid was only starting to deepen the kiss when you whispered.

“Now if you were to pass away under mysterious circumstances and Killer was still around… that’s another story.”

Kid tore your hand from his face and pushed your laughing figure away from him as he made his way out of your room the same way that he had come in, stomping.

“Fuck you!”

“Love you too!” your laughter echoed across the entire ship.

#one piece fanfiction #Eustass Captain Kid #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #killer one piece #massacre soldier killer #one piece x reader

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running-tweezers · 4 months

Text

@phantasmechanical has been pestering me (affectionately) for months to post part of an AU I wrote with our beloved ocs.

Guess you won, Merry Christmas, ilu

Have this first part I wrote well over a year ago. Looking back, I think it shows the progress I’ve made in writing since then. Still feel like I’m baring my entire soul by posting it but ya know.

~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck….”

Zephyr cursed under their breath, trying to remain calm and quiet. They flipped on the light of their headlamp to try and assess the damage. Bracing themself against a tree, they unzipped the side of their boot and rolled up their jeans, revealing the rapidly swelling ankle underneath.

They prodded at it with a finger, only to recoil in pain at the contact. The light illuminated the scrapes and scratches on their hands that they failed to notice before. The attempt to brace their fall only resulted in injured hands as well as a twisted ankle. This was bad. This was really bad

They slid their hand into their pocket, wincing at the friction between the fabric and their scraped palm, and pulled out their phone.

No service. Of course. Who would they call anyway? The park rangers? They had already told them not to wander around off the trails at night too many times. They were starting to gain a negative reputation, and they couldn’t let that get in the way of cryptozoological research.

They gave up on calling for help and zipped their boot back up. If they could just get back to their car, they could deal with this. They weren’t too far. Hopefully.

They tentatively put a bit of weight on their ankle, only to feel the white hot pain shoot up their leg. Shit. This was going to suck.

They took a deep breath, preparing to fight through the pain, when a beam of bright light hit them from the woods on their left.

“How’s it going tonight, Zephyr?”

They squinted into the light, unable to see the face behind the flashlight, but they already knew who it was. On a normal night, hearing him would’ve meant a night of hunting disappointingly cut short. But tonight they were actually glad to see him.

“You know you’re not supposed to be out he— Hold on, are you alright?” His patient voice turned to one of concern as he pushed his way through the trees to them.

“I’ve been better,” they hissed through gritted teeth as they tried to take a step forward.

“Don’t, let me help you.” He rushed to their side, offering an arm to help them steady themself. “What’s wrong, what’s hurt?”

“My ankle…” They reluctantly answered, grabbing onto his arm. “I just twisted it a little, I just need to get back to my car.”

“And what do you plan to do once you get to your car?”

“I don’t know? Go home? Sleep it off?”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Come on, I can give you a lift to the station and I’ll help you actually take care of this.”

“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to—”

“I insist.” He guided their arm up over his shoulders and shifted to hold them up. “I want to make sure you’re not seriously hurt. We’re not too far from the road anyway, and then it’s just a few minutes to the station. No trouble.”

“Fine. If you must.” As much as they didn’t want the extra help, leaning on his shoulders did feel nice. They were able to take all the weight off their now throbbing ankle, at least.

“I must.” He flashed them a smile that seemed to brighten up the darkness more than any of their artificial lights. “Let’s get going. We’ll take it slow, ok? Don’t want you hurting the other leg.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you gonna call the cops?”

Nate’s newfound patient sat in a folding chair, their leg elevated onto another chair positioned in front of them. Another night dealing with this not so sneaky cryptid enthusiast. It seemed like everyone there had been through it with them at least once or twice. So much so that “dealing with Zephyr” had become the go to stakes for losing a bet amongst the other rangers. But seeing them like this was a first. Not as some freak in the middle of the woods, shrouded in darkness, or washed out in the beam of a flashlight. He could see them just as they were, sitting under the fluorescent lights of the ranger station.

Shaggy black hair poked out in all directions under their headlamp. Their outfit was wildly impractical for spending time outdoors. Just a black, tight fitting band tee and a pair of skinny jeans, all covered with a long black coat that seemed way too warm for the summer night. Their arms folded over the gear strapped to their chest, closing themself off, and their smudgy black rimmed eyes stared back at him with anxiety, thinly veiled as malice.

He hadn't realized how surprisingly hot they were.

“Why would I call the cops?” He dug through some drawers in the station's tiny kitchenette for the first aid kit.

“Because some of the other rangers threatened they would the last time they caught me.”

“Did they really?” He laughed as he knelt beside them. “Seems a little dramatic.”

“That’s what I said.”

“They’re all talk, trust me.” He smiled at them, hoping to diffuse some of their standoffish energy. “Now let’s take a look at that ankle.”

Zephyr leaned forward to pull off their boot. No wonder they hurt themself. The boots they were wearing in the middle of the forest had at least a two inch platform, covered in metal and rivets. How they even managed to walk the uneven ground at all was a mystery.

When the boot was removed, it revealed a black sock, covered in tiny mothmen, printed all over. He started to chuckle, but was met with a sharp glare.

“Don’t.”

He bit his lip to keep from smiling as they quickly snatched off the sock and avoided eye contact. No matter how much poison they tried to spit, they just came across more and more adorable.

Less adorable though, was their ankle. It had swollen quite a bit, turning red and bruising in places. God knows how bad it would’ve gotten if they had tried to limp back to their car by themself.

“Yeah, that looks like a pretty nasty sprain to me.” He pulled out a roll of ace bandages from the kit. “What exactly happened?”

They shrugged, still avoiding his gaze. “I fell. Tripped on something. Tried to catch myself, but all that did was fuck up my hands too.” They uncrossed their arms to show their red and raw hands.

“Yikes,” he winced at the torn up palms. “No worries though, I can take care of that too.”

Their arms went immediately back into the closed off position. “You really don’t need to do anything for me.”

“Well too bad, because I am,” he teased. He began wrapping the bandage around, being careful not to hurt them any further. “You know, I hate to say it, but this might not have happened if you were wearing the right kind of shoes.”

They just scoffed, not giving him an answer.

“Don’t get me wrong, the shoes look great on you,” he continued. “Just maybe not for this.”

“Don’t patronize me,” they muttered, before flinching in pain and inhaling sharply as he touched their ankle. “Shit…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I promise it’s gonna feel better when it’s done. Just a little bit more.” He continued wrapping the bandage tight around their ankle. “And I’m not patronizing you. I really do like the boots, they look really cool.”

“Thanks…” They shrunk back, returning to staring at the floor. He caught what looked like the tiny beginnings of a smile, before they forced it back down.

Suddenly, their head tilted back up in realization. “Oh shit.” They reached down to their chest to check the go pro strapped there. “I never stopped this.”

“Has that really been recording the whole time?”

“Well apparently the battery died at some point,” they sighed, frustrated, and reattached it to the straps. “So who knows?”

“Do you record everything out there?” he asked, trying to get their mind off the last remaining painful bits of wrapping.

“Of course I do,” they answered. “You know how many people claim to have seen Bigfoot with no proof to back it up? If I keep this running, it sees everything I see. Plus all the things I didn’t catch.”

“Smart.”

“Also if I’m attacked, they’ll find this on my body and be able to see proof of what did it,” they said, calmly. “I can get proof even if I don’t survive.”

“A little morbid, but I get it.” He smirked up at them, catching their eyes this time. “Do you think it caught what tripped you?”

They rolled their eyes. “Funny.”

“I’m sorry, I had to.” He laughed, securing the end of the bandage. “And now you’re done.”

“Oh…” They looked down at their wrapped ankle, obviously not realizing how fast he’d been working while they explained. “Thanks.”

“I told you, no problem. Now let me see your hands and you can go—”

A beeping followed by a shrill staticky voice interrupted him. “Calling for Nate.”

“Hold on just one second.” He stood back up and grabbed the radio from his belt to respond. “Right here, go ahead.”

“Did you take care of that Code: Z?”

He glanced back at Zephyr, who was staring up at him, eyebrows raised.

Without looking away, he responded again. “Uh, yeah. False alarm. No one was out there that I could find.”

Their face turned to shock and confusion, and he just beamed back at them.

“Well good. Maybe we can get a night of peace and quiet for once.”

“Maybe so.”

“Thanks for checking, though. Over and out.”

He returned the radio to his belt. “Sorry about that.”

“I have my own fucking code?” Their face twisted into a smile. The first smile he had ever seen from them.

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “You’re something of a cryptid out here yourself.”

Their smile only grew, delighted by this turn of events. That genuine smile after seeing nothing but scowls nearly took him out.

“Don’t worry,” he continued, shooting them another sly smirk. “I won’t let them find you that easy.”

That was enough to elicit a tiny laugh from them that made his heart swell.

“Now—“ He knelt back down, holding out his hand. “Let’s get those palms fixed up.”

They offered their scraped hands without any reluctance this time. He turned them palm up to examine, gently holding them up with his own. Holding those hands in his, with their finger tattoos and chipped black nails, he couldn’t deny the electricity.

A few stinging sprays of Bactine and two wrapped up hands later, they were all patched up.

“That should do it,” he said, closing up the first aid kit and standing back up. “No infections today.”

“Thanks.” Their standoffish persona had slowly faded, leaving behind someone who was genuinely grateful, if not a little embarrassed at the whole situation. “For everything.”

“Of course. There’s one more thing I need to do before I take you back to your car though.”

“Hm?”

Nate grabbed a sharpie from behind the check in desk, and lifted one of their hands, turning it over to scribble some digits on the bandages.

“Text me when you get home, ok?” He popped the cap back on the marker. “And let me know how that ankle’s faring.”

They studied the phone number on the back of their hand for a minute, trying to comprehend. “I, uh— sure. I can do that.”

“Good.” Nate helped them to their feet and grabbed the keys from his pocket. “And if you want to come back out here a little more prepared next time, let me know that too.”

They narrowed their eyes at him. “And you’re not gonna snitch?”

“I promise. I just want to prevent any future accidents.”

“Fine,” they conceded, voluntarily putting an arm around his shoulders to steady themself this time. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” He held them up and started leading them out the door. “I think Bigfoot would also want you to be safe.”

#this is the first time I have ever published any writing with my own characters online #really feel like I’m showing my whole ass to the world #but if anyone likes this there’s 6 more parts and I’m continuing to work on it #marisa writes #marisa speaks

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transgymbro · 5 days

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im sure youve probably answered this before, but do you have a specific gym routine you follow? or one you could recommend?

my issue with the gym isnt even an issue of social anxiety or body insecurity, it's the fact that i genuinely have zero clue what im doing lmao 😅 any advice at all is appreciated, thanks man

I actually haven't answered this one before! This is under a "read more" because it got stupid long. Also sorry this has taken so long I've been grinding on my finals

Disclaimer: I'm not an expert, I'm literally just some guy on the internet who likes going to the gym. Please consult an expert such as a doctor or fitness coach if possible before trying anything I say. If you happen to be an expert/experienced in this, please correct me if I got anything wrong. Also, YMMV.

So generally, when you go to the gym your routine is going to depend on your goals and how many days you're going to be able to go.

If your main goal is to cut (lose body fat): You want to concentrate on cardio, and if you do strength training at all you should focus on lighter weight with a higher number of reps each set

If your main goal is to bulk (gain muscle mass and strength): You'll want to aim for less cardio, heavier weights, and less repetitions.

WARNING: Be careful when you are going up in weight, you can seriously injure yourself if you try to lift something that's too heavy. What I mean by be careful is:

Make sure you can move your current weight easily before trying the next one up. That is, don't go up until you're able to do 15 reps on that weight.

When you move up in weight, don't go up by more than 5-10 lbs. This will make sure that if it turns out you can't lift as much as you thought, you won't hurt yourself.

Have a spotter with you, if possible. If you have someone who can/wants to go to the gym with, you, take them, especially if they have more experience. Having someone there to catch the weight can make the difference on whether or not you get injured.

Listen to your body. If you are hurting/experiencing sharp/unusual pain, STOP and either go down in weight or stop altogether for the day.

Make sure your form is correct. Lifting with bad form is already likely to injure you, and the risk goes up the heavier you're lifting. You can have someone else check you or check online for tutorials.

As for your exercises across the week, it depends on how much time you have to spend in the gym. Some people have time every single day to go, and others can only go maybe two days a week. Regardless of how much time you have though, it is important to give your muscles a chance to rest. Now, this doesn't mean you CAN'T go every single day, you absolutely can if you know what you're doing. But generally for people who are new to the gym I wouldn't recommend it. For one, if you're not used to the strain you're going to take longer to recover and get over the soreness, and if you're super sore it'll be difficult to really push yourself. Also, beginners aren't typically in tune with their body yet, that is, they don't know when to stop pushing to avoid injury. So, it's best to split the muscles you work out across your gym days.

A very common one routine is called the push-pull split. This divides the muscles you will work out into two groups, depending on their motion. The muscles that go in each category are

Push: Chest, Shoulders, Triceps, Quads, Calves

Pull: Back, Biceps, Glutes, Hamstrings.

Typically, one would go to the gym 4 days per week and do: push, pull, push, pull, or vice versa. However, this split is also good for people who can only work out twice a week. My brother actually goes to the gym three times per week (last I checked with him) and modifies this split into push, pull, and legs, so this is another option if you want to really make sure you're getting a pump on your legs.

My personal split is a three day split of muscle groups. Shoulders/biceps/triceps, chest/back, and abs/legs. This is how my aunt (former amateur bodybuilder) trained me when she was getting me into weightlifting and I've generally kept the same routine, but you're free to switch any of those days or muscle groups around, so you could do something like biceps/trips/back, abs/chest, shoulders/legs. Generally I would try to keep biceps and triceps together since both are your arm muscles, but that's really only a personal preference.

For the most part, what you choose to do here is up to you as long as you make sure you're giving your muscles a chance to rest.

Now we're getting into specifics: How many reps? How many sets? Generally, 3-4 sets of 10-15 reps on a weight that is manageable but challenging (i.e. you can lift it, but you're getting tired at about the last 2-3 reps). However, there are some (not exhaustive) special cases that I'm listing below

Cutting - Do you remember what I said about low weight high reps earlier? This is where it comes in. If you're on a cut you may want to go for a lighter weight than your normally would (for example, if you usually lift about 20 lbs use the 10 lb weights) and go for 15-20 reps, or if you're advanced, until failure.

Strength gain - High weight, low reps. You'll want something a bit on the heavier side, but you'll only be doing this for about 5-8 reps per set. I do recommend, however, grabbing a lighter weight as well and doing what we call a drop set (we'll get into what this is in a second). Once again: be careful when lifting very heavy weights. You don't want to injure yourself.

The Big Three (Deadlift, Squat, Bench Press) - These ones are the ones people tend to try and go as heavy as they can go on. They are the most rewarding, but also the most dangerous lifts you can do. If you are a beginner, do not attempt going heavy on these without a spotter. Generally for these, you'll want to do less reps the heavier you go. If you have a spotter you can go for a one rep max, where you lift the most weight you know you can lift for exactly one rep. Alternatively, these can go hand in hand with strength gaining, and because of how heavy these can get, you may end up only getting 3 reps in (I can only bench 145 lbs for 2 reps right now).

Drop Set - A drop set is a set where you start with a weight slightly heavier than what you can complete a full set with, do a low amount of reps, and then drop down to a lower weight and repeat, up to the lowest weight available to you. These are very good for building your strength, because they allow you to keep going and working your muscles without injuring yourself. Example: I want to drop set my bicep curls. I can bicep curl about 25 lbs for 10-12 reps. I would start with 30 lbs, do 5 reps, then drop to 25 lbs and do 5 reps there. I could stop there, especially if I'm using dumbbells because I don't want to have that many dumbbells with me, but I could go to 20 lbs, do 5 reps, then to 15 lbs, and then repeat until I'm using 5 lbs. These usually work best with machines rather than free weights because again: there is definitely such a thing as too many dumbbells.

Also: Make sure your first set is a warmup set. That is, do slightly lighter weight and slightly more reps to get your muscles warmed up and ready to lift the heavier stuff. Warming up your muscles will give you a chance to practice your form and prepare your body to handle the heavy shit.

I will also say that your diet will have a massive impact on how fast/whether you reach your goals, but since you asked about the gym specifically, I'm sticking to that scope.

#trans fitness

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burstingwithbellies · 1 year

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The holiday weight, pregnancy pounds, vacation weight, and second round of pregnancy pounds stayed on your body long enough to simply be called "your weight". You avoid a third wave of pregnancy pounds because I couldn't lift you belly long enough to fill you again. Your goals shifted from losing the weight to maintaining it to limiting how much you would gain. Right now, The line you swear not to cross is needing a mobility scooter. You were confident you'd lose the fat, calling it "water weight"

You were winded simply walking to the gym's doors. You were self conscious about how you looked. Over three years of constant eating and two pregnancies, huge triplets and giant quadruplets respectively, your clothes barely covered your body. You ass swallowed your shorts while you belly spilled out the front. Your tits oozed out your top, making cleavage, sideboob and underboob all at once.

You had called beforehand, scheduling a trainer to help make and keep you to a workout plan. When you finally recovered from the marathon of getting inside from the parking lot, you trainer was surprised to see what he'd be working with.

"Let's start with some cardio, a little walk and talk. You can tell me about your goals so I can make a plan to help"

It seemed innocent enough. With A grunt you hoped your trainer didn't hear, you stepped onto the treadmill and slowly began waddling. You shared that last the last few years of your life, omitting several important details. You called your baby weight stubborn and ignored the vacation's influence on your waistline.

Right as you mentioned getting pregnant a second time, you were gasping for air. The trainer turned of the machine and handed you a bottle of water. You worked up quite a sweat and asked how far you got. Your confidence was shattered when you heard you didn't even break 100 feet.

You sat down, your body jiggling from the fastest movement you made today. Your stomach growled but you were determined to ignore it. Looking up at your trainer, you asked what's next. Surprised you wanted to keep going, the trainer scans the room and decides on the empty floor.

"Push-ups"

Your face flushed. As if your bingo wings could lift your lard filled body. You prayed that your pants wouldn't rip as you got down on your knees. You tried to get down on your hands but your belly was too much for you to handle. Your belly slams into the ground with a thud.

"Ready? Go."

Once you stop suffocating yourself with your boobs, you try to push off the ground. You feel no burn in your muscles or resistance at all. You glance to the side a realizes the truth about your "water weight": it's enough to make a water bed. You hands don't even reach the floor.

You flail around to signal that not only you can't do a single push-up, you're stuck as well. Rolling you over and helping you sit up, you are handed a protein shake. You start drinking it, surprised about it amazing flavor. You ask what brand it is.

"It's no protein shake, just a regular milkshake with several servings of weight gain powder mixed in"

You almost drop it but the trainer grabs it and tilts it back. You are forced to take faster gulps, downing the entire cup. You groan as your belly starts to deal with the influx of calories.

"I don't want to spoil the surprise, but I was shocked to see it was you. An old college buddy was telling me about this butterball he knocked up twice. And how he's planning something special once you can't stand anymore."

You're still processing the information when another shadow looms over you. You look up and see me, your lover and father of your seven children, looking down at you. It takes both my friend and I to lift you back you to your feet. You see the trainer hand me some keys before going off to help someone who is actually exercising.

I plant one hand on you ass and the other on your belly as I guide you to one of the private rooms off to the side. Unlocking the door, I give your ass a playful spank as you squeeze through the doorway.

"Thinking you could lose that weight? Pretty funny. But seeing you actually try? And fail? That's super sexy. So sexy in fact, I'm buying you a membership. After each 'workout', you'll meet me back here, so I can get a workout too. I'm think we could get quintuplets this time"

(1) (3) (4) (5) (6)

That was a twist... A really hot twist 😳😳😳😳😳

Anon, please immobilize me and give me that surprise 😩 Do what you want!

#fat kink #feeling really kinky ~ 😈#anon answered #answered 💕#obesity #mpreg #nbpreg #fpreg #pregnancy kink #wg kink

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takadokii · 3 months

Text

chapter three ‧₊.࿐ bittersweet mortal cravings / words of wisdom

summary After kissing your best friend, things change in ways you didn't expect, and you can't help but wonder whether you've gained clarity or more confusion about your feelings in the end! Confiding in Satoru turns out to be more helpful than expected, and he offers you some words of wisdom! warnings slightly suggestive scene, swearing, a bit of angst, satoru is losing his shit (twice) word count 6.5k songs pluto projector rex orange county, everyone adores you (at least i do) matt maltese, we might even be falling in love victoria monét

"when you say my name, nothing's changed, i'm still a boy inside my thoughts"

links collection ; taglist ; pinterest ; playlist ; misc

Satoru awakens to the sound of his phone ringing and a familiar weight dropping down on his lap.

Peeking one eye open, he's met with a heavenly sight; you, wearing one of his older jerseys and tilting your head, leaning forward to nuzzle your nose into his.

"Mornin', baby," he grins groggily, doing his best to stay awake just to admire how stunning you look in the sunrise today.

"Good morning, dummy."

You can't help but return the lovestruck smile, finally leaning in for a chaste but much-awaited kiss, the phone still ringing, discarded on your empty side of the bed.

Delicate hands find themselves trailing up your waist, and Satoru attempts to pull you even further into him, but you push yourself off, knowing you wouldn't make it out of bed til the afternoon if you gave in to him now.

Your fingers trace along the soft skin of his pecs, warming under your touch.

"Suguru's still calling, y'know?"

Satoru ignores your remark, instead chases after your lips again and with a tentative lick against the plush flesh, you open your mouth gladly for another few minutes of bliss.

"Mm, he'll call again if it's important," he muffles into the skin along the edge of your jaw, slowly trailing down.

You giggle as his teeth graze your collarbone. "He's already called two times, though!"

Giving him one last parting kiss, much to Satoru's dismay, you slip off his lap and return to the kitchen, giving him some space to talk with your friend.

His head falls back against the pillow, close-eyed and with a lopsided grin, he sighs before reaching for his phone.

"Hey, man."

He sits up on the edge of the bed in one swift motion, stretching his back with a yawn.

"Gods, you sleep long," Suguru complains from the other end, and Satoru just giggles at the traffic he can hear in the background of his scolding.

"You're just jealous I get to sleep in," Satoru's feet slap lazily against the floor as he drags himself to find you again, having no shame in the fact that he can't even spend half a minute without your warmth.

"Of course I am," Suguru grumbles, "anyway...Coach asked if you're ready for the game tonight or if your knee is still-"

"My knee is just fine! Yaga always worries too much."

Leaning over the kitchen counter, a grin audible in his tone as you offer him a washed blueberry and smile as his teeth graze your fingertips when he bites into it.

Satoru hates to see it falter slightly after hearing his words, turning away a little to continue mixing the rest of the berries into the batter.

"Anyways, I'll see you later. Have fun at the office, Suguru~!"

"I hate you so much. See ya."

Suguru hangs up on him, and Satoru doesn't waste another second, throwing his phone mindlessly on the counter before walking over to you and snaking his hand around your waist, peppering your face with more good morning kisses.

"You worried, baby?" He utters into your skin, and you can hear that he feels terrible about it, which only makes you worry even more.

You hum dismissively in response. The two of you had this conversation a million times already, and by now, you knew better than to even suggest stopping Satoru from doing what he loves.

"You don't have to worry, baby. I'm the best! And they need their captain, hm? Or else these idiots wouldn't get anything done."

You hate that he thinks like this, that he always accepts all the unrealistic expectations set for him, never once asking for help, consistently making sure to do his job and more. Yet still, you can't help but think that it is one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him in the first place.

"I know. I can't help that I'm worried," you shrug and turn to face him again. He looks so pretty you almost forget what you were frustrated about for a moment, his hair still dishevelled and his eyes half-lidded, shirtless and focusing on nothing but you, as always.

The look you give him is soft and pleading, despite knowing better, asking him silently to stay with you tonight.

"Nothing can hurt me when you're around, m'kay?" He presses a kiss onto your lips with such gentle force it tells you, 'I love you endlessly, but I can't do what you're so desperately asking me to.' And it stings a bit.

Nonetheless, you two make out in the kitchen for what feels like an eternity until your lips are so swollen you forget he's leaving for a moment. As his hands rub mindless patterns into your waist, you pull away breathlessly and grin against him.

"Mm, couldn't you be a basketball player? It's hot in a long sleeve this time of year," you complain, pulling at the fabric to cool yourself down.

"You look very hot indeed," Satoru muses, pulling you back into him for another kiss.

"Besides, then you'd always complain about being cold any other season, huh?"

Slowly, he lets his fingers trail down to your hips, and a sneaking suspicion confirms itself when his hands find nothing but the material of his jersey separating his hands from your skin.

You turn off the stove, shaking your head at his antics before dragging him towards the empty counter by the hem of his sweatpants.

"But I still have you to keep me warm..."

He lifts you up and sighs dreamily into the next kiss as you pull him closer with your legs.

"... don't I?"

‧₊.࿐

10th August 2006

Suguru hadn't spoken to you since that night.

He was gone by the time you woke up, which was embarrassingly late in the afternoon, and you could only recall vague fragments of the evening, memories hazy and blurred. Though as your fingers came up to brush against your lips almost instinctively, you remembered the way his felt against yours perfectly, as though you could sense him kissing you all over again.

You've texted him loads since then but were met with short, polite, but uninterested answers that clearly indicated he was not ready to talk to you.

The radio silence was driving you wild over the weekend and the only thing on your mind on every mission. So desperate to clear things up with him, you found yourself standing in front of his door, fist clenching and unclenching as you paced around, hoping to find the courage to knock for the past half hour.

You went over the words you were going to say one more time, but your inner monologue was interrupted when the door suddenly swung open.

Suguru's mother stares up at you with big eyes and a warm smile before grasping both of your hands into hers and pulling you inside.

"Kazuha! What a pleasure, I haven't seen you in ages! You've grown so much, honey," she grins and gives you a hug so tight you fear your ribs cracking any moment now.

"You look sickly. Have you not been eating well? I've just made a big batch of food for Suguru's trip if you're-"

"Trip?"

You don't mean to interrupt, but the words tumble out of your mouth before you have time to think, "Where is he going?"

She blinks up at you in surprise, and with a sympathetic frown, she reaches to rub circles into your arm.

"Oh, honey, I thought he told you already..."

"I'm going to Nikko. Hiking. To clear my mind," Suguru speaks up from the end of the hallway, and you wonder how long he had been standing there without saying a word.

"Oh." Is all you manage to answer, and the silence that falls upon the genkan is painful. So much so his mother excuses herself shortly after and gives the two of you some privacy.

He leads you into the living room, and you sit down a little farther away from him than you normally would. A show is running on the TV that Suguru had briefly mentioned to be his father's favourite, yet he seemed to be nowhere in sight, and the volume was turned so far down it was barely audible.

He acts nonchalant about everything, striking up a conversation as he would with you on any other day, asking you how Mizuha has been as if he hadn't ignored and avoided you the whole weekend.

"How long will you be gone for?" You can't help yourself but ask, feeling as though his trip was the least awkward, unaddressed topic in the room.

You felt a bit stupid for making such a big deal out of it now; going over the interactions you've shared over the weekend, you wonder if it was really just you being overly paranoid.

"Not that long, I think. Just a few days. I'll try to make it back in time for Mizu's birthday." And when he grins at you, it looks just as it always has.

"Good, she really wants you there, you know?" You smile as the tension finally seems to fade.

"And you?" he questions, so casually you can only manage to stutter out a few syllables before his mother cuts your conversation short, entering with a tray of treats.

"Is green tea fine, dear?" She beams, and you graciously take the cup from her hands, still somewhat flushed from her son's words.

After taking a seat across from you, she reaches out to Suguru's loose hair, who flinches back at her attempt, squinting his eyes in annoyance.

She falls back into the soft cushion of her chair with a defeated sigh before turning towards you with her tea cupped in between her hands.

"I've always told Suguru to grow out his hair, but I think he's just doing it now because he's lazy… Gods know the boy'd never do something I told him to!"

His hair was different today, half up with a few more strands than normally framing his face. You giggled along politely with his mother's words and would glance over at him every now and then.

She leans forward, "Can I?"

Her hand inches towards you in a way you've grown used to, and you meet her in the middle so she can curl a red strand around her finger.

"I haven't seen a colour this beautiful since I met Suguru's father. It's stunning. And healthy, too."

Your breath stocks at her words. You are glad that at least your hair has healed from your past, and as they pierce themselves through your heart, it aches so bittersweet, suddenly aware that it does, in fact, still beat.

"Have you ever tried dying it?" She tilts her head, and you can feel Suguru's concerned gaze piercing into your cheek.

"Uh…I used to, yeah. But it was no use. The dye never stayed in my hair for long," you smile politely, enjoying the burning sensation against your tongue as you take a sip of tea.

She nods along, deep in thought.

"Hmm, I can imagine, a colour like this must be hard to drown out…"

She trails off, and you feel your heart stop.

"Yeah. My mother used to say that as well."

At her mention, the room falls into silence again. A few months into meeting his mother, you had told her a bit about your upbringing, mainly because she seemed so concerned that you lived on your own.

She listened to you with tears in her eyes, apologising for getting so emotional. The both of you settled in the comfortable quiet that followed, and as her hand reached to stroke gentle circles along your fingers, she told you she always wanted a daughter with a smile that made your heart ache. That day, for the very first time, her fingers brushed through your hair with a gentleness you were unfamiliar with, the one of a loving mother.

"Have you been eating well, honey? You look a little pale." She presses the back of her palm against your forehead before softly caressing your cheek.

"I've not been sleeping well lately, but I'll manage," you attempt to reassure.

"Ah, yes, I remember Suguru mentioned he checked on you before the weekend, but I didn't know you were feeling this bad! You should have checked on her again," she slaps her son with a handkerchief across the chest.

"To be honest, he looked so flushed the next morning I thought he didn't want to tell me what happened for a whole other reason," she whispered with a smirk, and Suguru choked on his tea.

"Mom?!" He turns away to cough, a perfect cover to hide the growing blush on his face.

"Well, if you need anything, you can just call me! Or Suguru, or better yet, you should just come over. You know you're always welcome!"

"Yeah, okay, mom. I think I actually am ready to go now. My train leaves in half an hour. Kazuha, do you uh…" he gets up, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes before he asks, "Do you want to walk with me, maybe?"

‧₊.࿐

The walk to the trainstation is familiar and comfortable. You help him with one of the smaller backpacks and chat about the many pictures Shoko has been sending from her holiday in Bali, the upcoming semester and his trip.

You fidget a little, and Suguru thinks he has never seen you so skittish as you tell him to call when something is wrong or if he just feels like talking. The thought you were still so obviously thinking about the kiss was making a bit of pride swell in his chest, but he tried to hold himself back from wishful thinking, knowing how badly it would hurt in the end.

"I forgot some jacket at your place, by the way."

"I'll give it to you the next time we see each other," you smile, and he knows you're trying to say, 'You better not avoid me when you come back'.

His train's arrival is announced throughout the station, and he gives you a pitiful look as he watches you fumble, so unsure whether you can embrace him in a hug or not.

He interrupts your mental dilemma by draping his much larger arms around your form, and you drown in the familiar material of his oversized hoodie. Melting into the feeling and enjoying the brief moment of normality, squeezing him back just as tightly.

People were starting to get off the train behind you, and Suguru spoke, head still leaning onto the crown of your head.

"Kazuha, I'm sorry for what happened that night…you were so exhausted and tired, and I shouldn't have taken advantage of that."

You pull away in disbelief, unable to process how he could possibly think that this was somehow his fault.

"You didn't do that! I never thought of it like that, I promise. It was me who kissed you…and I'm sorry. I should have never…"

"So you regret it?" He says this so bluntly, with uncharacteristically hurried words slipping practically out of his mouth, that you're caught off guard.

"Well, I don't…I mean. I just don't think the timing was right, at the very least."

He lets the words linger in the air between you, squinting a little and thinking them over before he hears the last announcement to get onto the train before its departure.

Regaining his composure, he gives you one last unreadable look, his hand rubbing over your shoulder with a sigh.

"Well, my times up. I'll see you soon."

The train leaves, and you stand there for another good minute, watching it disappear and the next one already arriving. A weird feeling settles in your stomach as you're left to wonder whether you were dreading or anticipating his return.

‧₊.࿐

Missing Suguru increased as soon as you paced around in your home, halfway in your mission clothes with your phone pressed in between your ear and your shoulder as you scolded Yaga for not informing you that his sister would be away on a trip today, leaving you with no one left to babysit.

"Well, who do you want to watch Mizuha while I'm away, huh?!"

You complain, rummaging through your dresser in search of your other sock.

Yaga sighs, suddenly glad the only responsibility on his hand was a panda cub. "I don't know. What about your freeloader loverboy?"

You roll your eyes, and Yaga can sense it even through the speaker.

"Are you even allowed to talk about a student like that…? And he's not my loverboy! Besides, Suguru isn't even here... Just- just give me a minute. I still have someone I could call…"

You hang up on Yaga's empty threat to drive off without you and open your window to send him an angry look while dialling the only other person that came to mind.

‧₊.࿐

Satoru wakes to the sound of his phone ringing and an empty bed.

His eyes blinked open dreamily until he groaned at the tragic reality of his cold bed and the fact someone had dared to interrupt the perfectly good dream he was having.

Reaching for his phone, he pulls it from the charger harshly, flipping it open to see who was about to get an earful of-

His mind goes blank, rubbing his eyes just to make sure he sees correctly before hastily answering, hoping some of the raspiness in his voice still remains.

"What's got you thinking about me this early in the morning, Kazuuu?" He draws your name out, and he's met with a brief moment of silence before you reply.

"...what do you mean 'this early in the morning'? It's two in the afternoon."

He pauses, pulling the phone from his ear to look at the clock, tauntingly blinking '2:47' back at him before trying to find an excuse.

"I- yeah, no, that's that I-"

"Did you seriously sleep til two in the afternoon?!" Your scolding pierces through the speaker, and he flinches away in pain.

His shameful silence speaks volumes.

"Whatever, let a man have a little nap, will you? What did you call me for anyway?" He sort of successfully manages to change the topic, and you sigh, deciding to let it go, considering you were about to ask him for a favour.

“I need you to babysit Mizuha. Please."

Satoru's mouth curves into a smile at your words, and he replies with as much honesty as he can, "Of course, you can bring her over and-"

"No! I…I won't have time. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to come over," you mutter, and he can practically see you playing with the ends of your hair as you say it.

"But I thought you didn't- I mean," he trails off, still a little confused. This was certainly not how he imagined your first invite into your home would sound, his heart pounding at the thought nonetheless.

"I know, but every other person I could ask left, and I'm in a hurry."

Satoru's heart was about to start aching at your dismissiveness when you softly added.

"...besides, I trust you."

His silence freaks you out, unable to see he had simply pushed his face further into his pillow, nose deep in an attempt to cool the blush and actually kicking his feet like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I've sent you the address. Can you be there in twenty minutes?"

"I'll be there," he promises.

‧₊.࿐

"He's here!" Mizuha grins, standing on a chair to look through the peephole while you are still frantically marching in between your bathroom and bedroom in search of the extra med kid you'd usually kept in your leg holster.

Stopping mid-way, you squint your eyes at your sister, who is still poorly attempting to put the stool back in its original position.

"You're slow," you tease before opening the door and seeing your reflection in Satoru's sunglasses, standing somewhat tensely in front of you.

"Uhhh, Yaga is ominously watching your apartment in a black car with tinted windows, by the way…"

You can't help but chuckle and inform him that you were well aware. After one good glance at your attire, he could have guessed you were on your way to a mission.

Mizuha hands you the holster she had found, and you attach it to your thigh as you walk through your home, giving him a small tour and telling him all he needs to know.

"Mizuha isn't much trouble, so I'm sure you two will be fine. Just don't let her stand on chairs when you're not close by, and don't let her eat sweets for dinner."

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off.

"Yes, that also means you can't eat sweets for dinner."

Satoru hides his pout in order to ease your mind, and his gaze wanders over your form, admiring how good you look in that outfit. His attentive gaze is pulled away by your face, and he can't help but notice the unusually worried look.

"Hey…are you okay?"

Your head snaps up, and it only further confirms his suspicion.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm just stressed because Yaga is so impatient," you mumble, and your eyes never quite meet his, trailing from his left ear down to the collar of his shirt.

"Oh my god. You're totally lying."

Satoru calls out, a smile on his face due to the fact he actually managed to notice. You seem taken aback by the fact as well, so much so you let yourself slump a little before finally looking at him fully.

"Okay, fine. Can I just…tell you something? As a friend?" You bite your lip, and it feels weird to tell him what happened, but it is eating you alive, and you feel a bit of relief at the thought of getting it off your chest.

"Yes, yes, of course, anything."

He nods, and you look past his shoulder towards Mizuha, entranced by the TV in the other room, before taking a deep breath and figuring out how to possibly phrase this.

"Fine, but be normal about this. Suguru and I kind of kissed, and-"

"WHAT?! I mean...! Haha, please tell me more instantly." he tries to casually lean against the kitchen top, and you can see him claw at the wood from the corner of your eye.

"And now, it's really weird between us, I don't know. I went with him to the trainstation today, and we talked about it. I still feel like we left things just kinda as confusing as they were before and-"

Satoru couldn't hear you over the ringing. His mind screaming, and his heart was pounding as he tried to maintain an interested and focused smile. He was glad he hadn't taken his glasses off yet. Pretty sure one of his eyes had started twitching.

"…Satoru?" His name tumbling out of your mouth pulls him back to the conversation, and he takes a deep breath before choosing his next words.

"I am being soo normal about this." He says, but it's drowned out by the internal screaming anyway.

"I don't think you are…" You squint your eyes at him, and at the somewhat frustrated glare you give him, he suddenly grabs you by the shoulders like a madman.

"So! Normal! So normal you could even call it neutral! What a bland, non-day-ruining piece of information you've just told me! You know what? Let me think about this very casually for the rest of the day, and I'll get back to you with some words of wisdom." The smile he gives you is tense, and it scares you a little. You can see the stoic glint in his eyes, even behind the glasses.

"...Is your eye twitching?"

He ignores your question and starts pushing you towards the door instead.

"Mizuha and I are going to have so much fun, promise! I'll send you update photos!"

He kicks you out with a bright chuckle, and as the door clicks closed, Satoru lets his head collide harshly with it, his laughter fading out into a groan.

"I want to die."

Mizuha glances over the backrest of the couch before turning up the volume of her show and hiding with a frightful gulp.

Her efforts proved useless as it didn't take long for Satoru to collapse dramatically next to her, sighing until she finally showed him the mercy of asking what's wrong.

"I'm so glad you asked!" He squeaks before rambling about the tragic history of his one-sided, recently discovered feelings for you and the love triangle he now seems to be in.

"How come awful things always happen to hot, amazing people like me?" He sighs before perking up again with a fabricated smile. "But it's fine, right?! I'll be fine!"

Mizuha sees his eye twitching again and doesn't bother answering.

Moments later, he was walking circles around the dinner table, and Mizuha was unsure whether she was still supposed to listen to him now that he was just frantically pacing around and mumbling just loud enough she'd hear if she really cared to.

"Maybe it wasn't even that big of a deal. A small peck between friends," he scratched his head before halting and turning to make clockwise circles now.

"Or! Maybe it was a huge deal. Gigantic, like- like a full makeout session."

"I don't think you should be saying things like this in front of a three-year-old."

"As if you're even listening!" Satoru snaps before letting his head fall back as he groans.

"I feel like I'm losing something…"

"...your mind?" He halts in his tracks, his hair is already a little dishevelled, and he manages to look like you had with two full days of sleep depravity in just 3 hours.

"NO! It feels like I'm losing," he pauses and glances to the side, hesitant, "the woman of my dreams that I am courting very casually. Or something."

"How long have you known my sister for…?" Mizuha asked with brows raised, and he fell back down on the couch next to her.

"I've known your sister way longer than she might like to admit, you know. We go wayyy back," he shrugs with a smirk.

‧₊.࿐

Satoru had just finished playing with Mitaka, who was lying on the floor, eyes pinched together, and head turned away as the other boy put a bandaid on his knee.

"You're a Kamo, and you're afraid of blood?" Satoru had teased, and Mitaka just gave him a playful kick with the leg that was still in his friend's hand.

The two boys decided to take a break despite the fact that Satoru hadn't actually needed it. He could see Mitaka was exhausted and used the free time to wander around their estate curiously. Usually, when his mother and yours met up, you'd meet at the Gojo residence, and he liked the fact that your home wasn't as swarmed with servants and other people telling him what to do.

He halts in his steps when he sees you, hands raised in the air as you slice your finger open, face scrunching up a little at the pain before you press just below the cut and let as much blood drip into your palm as you manage.

He watches curiously as you start bending the blood, first into a small ball and then flattening it as thinly as you can before you gradually start to form four spikes extending from its centre. With one last mutter, you press it together as hard as you can, and the Shuriken solidifies in your palm.

Satoru thinks the self-satisfied smile that grazes your face is the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

He watches as you throw it gently into the air, how it hovers just above your hand before you throw it with as much force as possible. The whistling sound it makes echoes through the forest.

It is only when you follow its circling trajectory that you notice the boy who'd been watching you, and with wide eyes, you sprint towards him.

Gojo is too caught up in the fact you're approaching him at all; he fails to notice your panicked look or the fact he should probably activate his Infinity, considering the Shuriken that was aiming right for his head.

"Watch out!" You yell, and as a last-minute effort, you release the Shuriken from its form. As it explodes into tiny specks of blood drops, you quickly direct them away from the expensive fabric of his kimono.

You pant a little, frowning when you see the boy still staring at you, starstruck, not even having the decency to thank you, and finally, you realise who it is. Your mother had forbidden you from speaking with Gojo a long time ago, not that she'd even let you anywhere near where he and Mitaka were playing.

"Are you incompetent or something?!"

His eyes widened at the accusation before a fascinated smile found its way onto his face. You were so blissfully different from all the other people he had met, bowing at his feet and praising his every action. You were a breath of fresh and admittedly rude air.

"No one ever called me incompetent before…"

You huff, "Maybe not to your face." And your tone catches Satoru off guard; suddenly, he realises the predicament he was setting up for himself, and still, his heart pounded in excitement.

Your gaze tears itself away from him at the sound of your mother's voice, yelling that the cookie tray is 'looking awfully empty'. With closed eyes, you sigh, and it makes Satoru's chest ache to see your fierceness fade away.

When you walk past him to rush back inside, he grabs you by the arm, and you look back at him in astonishment. So he can move.

"W-wait! I’m Gojo, Gojo Satoru.”

You can't help but snort.

"I know, idiot."

‧₊.࿐

He finishes his story with a dumb smile, and Mizuha squints at him.

"So you like…being insulted?"

He scoffs in disbelief at her conclusion and walks into the kitchen to get started on dinner.

"That's not the point at all, god, you are being such a three-year-old."

"Well, at least you've calmed down now…" Mizuha grins as she trails after him, suspecting that Satoru might need a little help in the kitchen. Passing by your slightly ajar bedroom door, he sees a piece of clothing discarded on the floor and picks it up for you, placing it over the backrest of a chair Mizuha was totally not trying to grab just now.

He walks one step before a realisation hits him, and he halts. Turning around, Satoru gulps and pulls the fabric up in front of his face to inspect it closer.

Next to the small embroidered basketball team logo, he sees a familiar name lazily scribbled.

Geto Suguru

Mizuha, who had already halfway pulled a different chair into the kitchen, flinched together at his defeated cry.

‧₊.࿐

You return a little earlier to the two of them, still busy in the kitchen because you were admittedly worried about how Satoru would be able to handle Mizu.

But they didn't even notice your arrival, too busy laughing together as your sister showed him how to crack an egg properly.

They both fail terribly, and you announce yourself home by pushing them aside to wipe the eggs they cracked from your countertop and continue their poor attempt at cooking.

"We wanted to make Tteokkbokki!"

"And you decided the first step would be to crack two eggs…?"

They point at each other accusingly, and you pull the bag of rice cakes out of the drawer and let them soak in the warm water as you prepare the soup stock.

Mizuha is curious as to why you suddenly seem so content to cook, nearly making a comment about how you're "almost as good as Suguru" but refraining, considering Satoru had just calmed down from his second meltdown.

While stirring the noodles, you smile up at Satoru, who is still standing by your side, observing every single one of your movements with big, attentive eyes.

"I hope Mizuha wasn't being difficult."

Your sister scoffs behind you, mixing together the sesame seeds and sesame oil while you cut the spring onions.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about being difficult," she mumbles under her breath, and Satoru gives her a pointed glare.

Leaning behind you when you were focused on seasoning the soup stock, he whispers, "You're losing chair privileges for that comment, young lady."

Mizuha simply stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're not my dad!" But her hands grew tired from the stirring anyway, and so she still complied with his wishes, jumping down and returning to finish her show.

"What was that about?" You question as you pour the rice cakes into the stew, watching Mizuha waddle into the living room.

"Nothing! Did you know I actually had a dream about us where-"

"Go set the table."

"Okay, Kazu!"

‧₊.࿐

During dinner, you're surprised by how quickly Satoru and Mizuha seem to get along. Even with Shoko, it took her a while to warm up and come out of her shell, but the two of them were teasing and mocking each other as though they were childhood friends, and it did make sense that Satoru had a similar mindset to a three-year-old.

Satoru had insisted on helping you with the dishes and promised he would actually do something. Truthfully, you are somewhat impressed at how skillfully he manages to rinse off the chopsticks.

You thank him absentmindedly as you reach for a new kitchen towel.

As you turn back around, you bump right into Satoru's chest, his hands trapping you between his body and the counter, and you stare up at him, heartbeat quickening and cheeks flushing a little at the colour in his eyes.

"W-what are you…"

You can see the blue so clearly, no glasses in the way, eyes softened as they stare at you reassuringly and with longing you can't quite place.

" 'm just checking something…" he trails off, and you let your gaze move across his skin, standing so close you realise he does have a few imperfections that add a lot to the otherwise flawless face of his.

You let out a squeal when Satoru suddenly kicks his leg into the side of your ankle, tripping you to fall into one of his arms as you yelp.

"Satoru!"

He catches you before stepping away with a self-satisfied smile, pointing at you.

"You just called me by my first name and without my permission nonetheless," he teases, but his smile is genuine at the thought that you let him close this distance between you.

You frowned at the realisation, and Satoru felt alarmed, reaching forward to rub your shoulder in a slight panic.

"Hey- I was just joking. I'm happy! I want you to call me by my first name. You know that."

It takes a bit, but you give him a gentle nod, shoulders dropping again as you lean into his touch before excusing yourself, realising it was way past Mizuha's bedtime.

After tugging her in, you find Satoru sitting by the windowsill in the living room. Glancing outside, he can see the endless sky beyond the rows of dull apartment buildings, and he can't remember the last time he had taken the time to look out for his own home.

It's the only spot in your apartment you actually somewhat like, and the window, despite the fact it was north-facing, was large, and the built-in cabins beneath it often acted as a bench for you to rest on after a long day.

You join him, the two of you basking in the silence before you sigh and speak up.

"Can we maybe…talk about the kiss?" You still don't know how you feel about addressing it, but it still claws at you, and you had hoped Satoru might offer you some comfort, as he had admittedly managed to do quite a lot lately.

"...You did promise me some words of wisdom."

Your playful comment didn't seem to help much with easing the tension.

Satoru's heart aches. He wants to die. Again!

"Oh, I'd love nothing more than that."

You explain to him that despite the fact it felt right in the moment, it truthfully didn't feel like much thinking back on it. You and Suguru always seemed more like a couple in the eyes of others, and while you loved Suguru deeply, it would simply feel weird to add a romantic aspect to the deep relationship you already shared.

Satoru is torn between wanting what's best for you and wanting you as he listens along, and despite the fact that it feels a little wrong, he is relieved to hear you say this.

"Well…you can't help how you feel. Sometimes. Maybe this is your heart telling you that you want something else…someone else," He's being selfish, but at least, he justifies; he's being honest.

You sigh into the material of your hoodie.

"Or maybe…you know, maybe there's just something awfully wrong with me. Maybe you lose your ability to love when you're a Stray."

"Well, when you put it like that…"

You groan.

"Just joking! Just joking. Kazu, you are not only capable of love but also deserving of love. I know you won't believe me when I tell you that it wasn't your fault, but I still want you to know that you don't deserve what happened to you. Even if you think there is no punishment enough for what you've done, you can't keep denying yourself to live and love."

You glance up at him, and you believe you've never been so happy to have Satoru inch closer to you.

"...And laugh?" You taunt, and surprisingly, he's the one to roll his eyes.

"Okay, smartass. And I thought I was the one who always ruined the-"

A soft pair of lips, much softer than he had ever dreamed them of being, plant a kiss against his cheek. Your hand holds his other, pulling his face a little towards you, and as you pull away with a slight smack, you can feel that his skin is, for once, not colder than yours underneath your palm.

With just an inch of distance, lips grazing his face as you speak your next words.

"Thank you, Satoru."

Satoru thinks he might actually die.

"You're- you're welcome, Kazu."

The silence that follows is comfortable, and you enjoy that your arms are pressed against each other as you watch the stars

Minutes pass, and at one point, your head feels so heavy it leans against Satoru's.

"So…how did that kiss feel?" He grins a little, avoiding your eyes and pretending he'd find something equally as mesmerising as you in the night sky.

You chuckle.

"Let me sleep on it, and I'll get back to you with some words of wisdom, huh?"

"Oh? Is that your way of asking to see me again?" He leans over, and his eyes are so close to yours that you can see that tonight they're warm.

You hum, pretending to think about it.

"... We'll see if you become any more bearable."

chapter two | masterlist | chapter four

is this shit? I'm a lil eepyy.... i might proofread it one more time tomorrow morning!

much love, jae! 🩵

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emptifylie · 5 months

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i haven’t posted in a while so i’ll update you guys!! thanksgiving break SUCKED because i was forced to eat the WHOLE time. but if i’m being honest i think it was worth it… for the 4 days i had to eat i was able to burn 500+ calories each day so i didn’t gain as much weight as i probably would’ve if i didn’t spend an hour at the gym all those days. i went from being 121lbs on the first day, and almost 127lbs by the final day of break. but i guess that’s just what happens when your body isn’t used to food. for the last two days i’ve been getting my body back to where it was before. i’ve been fasting and i went to the gym twice today and 3 times yesterday(lol), i burned 511 calories today!!! i’m now back down to 123.2lbs!!!!! whoop! my goal is to be around 110 by new years :) i’m so excited!!! i’m definitely gonna be able to do that!!!!!!! november has been the best starving month i’ve had in over a year. i fasted more days out of the month than i actually ate!! if i wasn’t set back by thanksgiving and my family coming to visit and forcing me to eat i would’ve lost so much more. but still, i lost over 10lbs! it wont be hard to lose another 10lbs soon enough. also, looking at photos of me that were taken at all the thanksgiving parties, I LOOK SO MUCH BETTER!!! it’s crazy how much of a glow up you could have if you just get some fat taken off you. fuck i can’t wait to lose more. i’m still too fat.

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walviemort · 2 years

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You Owe Me [4/6]

Tired of losing Lost Boys to Hook’s sword, Peter Pan decides that the pirate will be replacing the ones he took—the old-fashioned way: by growing (and birthing) them himself. As Killian grapples with these unexpected pregnancies, it will test not only his body and his endurance, but especially his heart. (Eventual Captain Swan)

An: And we're back on this fine Saturday! Two more chapters after this...and I have to admit that I've enjoyed writing each one more than the last, so hopefully you've enjoyed reading them as such! (also--there's a bit of steaminess in here, but not enough to warrant upgrading the rating ;D ) Hope you like it! And thank you again to @sancocnutclub for the inspo :D

rated T / 3.2k / part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / AO3

Pan’s little game with Hook over the last decade or so had gone far better than he anticipated, though it was slightly disappointing that the pirate had figured it out so easily. At least he’d been able to twist things around on him a few times, and he had at least one left. Hell, he could thank Hook himself for the idea.

He took the last two vials he had and flew off, to where the captain was sharing a meal with Tiger Lily, though it didn’t look like either quite enjoyed it—it seemed almost more business-like.

Whatever. He snapped his fingers, and the scene before him paused, giving him plenty of opportunity to empty the vials into the bread Hook was eating. Then added a dash of pixie dust, giving it a command similar to what he’d used in the wine from the last time, a few years ago.

He’d have to be a little more patient this time, but had a feeling it’d be worth it. And it would give him some more time to figure out how to acquire the last boy Hook owed him.

Another snap of his fingers let the scene progress as normal, and he watched from afar as Hook took a big bite of his food.

Giggling to himself, he headed back to his camp; the four boys Hook had already given him fit in well, and he had no doubt these next ones would, too.

—-----------------------

Killian felt uneasy after his meeting with Tiger Lily—not just because it hadn’t exactly gone well, despite them literally breaking bread over a potential business deal, but in general, he feared that something was awry. Particularly, with him, and he had every reason to suspect Pan—though he had no clue when the boy would have had a chance to slip him anything. He knew Tiger Lily and her tribe were just as wary of him as his crew was.

He remained on alert the next several days, but…nothing happened. Perhaps he was losing his touch. (Perhaps he needed a vacation.) So he relaxed and moved on.

The nausea came on slowly, so he didn’t notice it at first; just blamed it on too much rum, or a rough storm that knocked the ship around. Not until he was actively puking over the rail of the ship did he think it could truly be that kind of nausea, but once he was, there was little question.

However—it went on a lot longer than his last two (normal) pregnancies; the evening with Tink was quite obviously an anomaly. For weeks on end, he had difficulty keeping down anything but hardtack and ginger tea (which they always kept at the ready now). His ribs began to stick out a bit, and were it not for his beard, he’d be looking a little gaunt.

“Me mum had a few like that,” Lewis said, trying to comfort him as he lost yet another meal after roughly seven weeks of this nonsense. “The midwife in town told her that the sicker she was, the healthier the babe would be.”

“Then this one will have incredible immunity,” Killian sighed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and pulling a sip of tea out of his flask.

It finally abated after ten or twelve weeks—twice as long as it usually lingered—but his body was slow to show any other changes. At least he put weight back on, but it merely put him back to normal, not the gain he typically expected around his midsection.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief when his pants finally began to feel snug, but it was so much later than in the past. By his estimate, it had been around the four-month mark the first time, a little earlier the second; he had to be well past six now, if not farther.

Noticing the furrow in his brow as he cupped the so-small bump, Lewis enquired as to what was bothering him.

“I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m worried there’s something wrong with the babe. They should be so much bigger by now. How…how would I know if they hadn’t made it?” He was aware that was a common malady.

“You’d know, sir. My mum had a few didn’t make it. It hurt her near as much as labor.”

He nodded in understanding, but that didn’t assuage his worries as much as he thought it would.

His confusion reached a peak when he finally felt fluttering within—at nearly the eight-month mark.

“What is going on, little one? Are you alright?” he asked his barely round belly that evening as he lounged on his bed.

“Oh, they’re just fine,” Pan interrupted. Killian was hardly even surprised at this point. “Don’t tell me you were actually worried?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? Knowing you, I’d still owe you if the worst happened,” he tossed back, annoyed.

“Yeah, you probably would,” Pan conceded. “But no—everything is alright here. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t cracked this one.”

Killian just cocked an eyebrow in question.

“Why, you gave me the idea!” Pan practically exclaimed. The next time he spoke, it was Killian’s own voice coming from his mouth. “Watch—the next one will be twice as slow. With twins,” he said, echoing Killian after his last birth. “What a brilliant plan!”

Killian just hung his head and ran a hand down his face and letting it settle on his small bump, exasperated with this. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” he sighed.

“You really shouldn’t. But I’m glad you are.”

“So that’s…” He quickly did the mental math. “Bloody hell, almost nine more months?”

“Something like that; arithmetic was never my strong suit. So you’ll have plenty of time to get to know those boys, won’t you?”

Killian closed his eyes and took a deep breath, both in an attempt to avoid betraying any feelings and to not let Pan get the rise out of him that he wanted.

“Take care, Captain. Let me know if you need anything!” Pan cackled, and then disappeared.

Killian just flopped back against his pillows and let his hand instinctively settle on his stomach. He’d be spending nearly eighteen months pregnant, and he was only halfway through. Gods above, let his sanity (and Smee’s tunics) hold out.

———————

Ever thankful he was a meticulous note taker, Killian pulled out his journals from the last time he had twins and was able to extrapolate the week-by-week data from then so he’d know what to expect this time. Just—slower.

If he was doing an even comparison, this put him right around the 4-month mark from where he’d been then, as far as the size of his bump and the babes’ activity level.

He skimmed over his notes from the last few weeks, recalling just how bloody uncomfortable he’d been—and groaned in anticipation.

At least he was able to stay in his own clothes longer this time; that was one blessing of the slowed-down time table. He was also able to more easily adjust to the gradual changes in his body, as well as be a productive member of the crew for longer, which would hopefully offset the months he’d likely spend useless.

It took another couple of months until he outgrew his leathers and this set of twins started making their presence known on the outside. At the outset, they seemed to be a bit gentler than the last ones, though perhaps it was just the much more languid pace that made it that way. (Or he was just comparing it to the previous pregnancy, when the little one attacked his insides at record pace.)

He didn’t experience any of the sharp pains that came with his previous pregnancies; they were more dull aches and throbs, or careful pokes. He had plenty of warning when a little foot found his bladder, and the assaults on his ribcage were much lower impact.

Even his shirts still fit until roughly the twelve-month mark (approximately where he’d been at six months the first time, which checked out.) The fact he’d been carrying these babes around for nearly a year was rather mistifying, but he wasn’t feeling too drained yet.

In fact, he had plenty of energy to deal with the heightened hormones this was leaving him with—the spikes weren’t as dramatic as they’d been in the past, but they were just as strong and lasted longer. Tink had taken a bit of convincing to join him, but caved when he nearly broke down in desperation. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she seemed to enjoy the novelty of their trysts with the added impedance between them. As for him—well, he was certain he’d never come so fast as when she began to caress his sensitive skin when they were in the middle of things, quickly sending him over the edge; he had to take care not to fall on top of her, lest he crush her.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked while laying alongside her, where he’d managed to collapse.

“No, not at all,” she assured him. “I’m not the wordsmith you are, so I can’t aptly describe what it feels like, but…it’s definitely enjoyable, having all that pressing against me,” she explained, brushing the back of her fingers against his bump. “Perhaps we could flip things around so you can kind of feel it?”

“Please,” he sighed; just her touch had him keyed up again. It probably wasn’t the same, having her on top, but still felt incredible.

Their dates, as they were, continued until he entered the later third of his pregnancy and truly began to slow down—somewhere around fourteen months, when he reached nearly where he’d been at the end of his first (and third) pregnancy.

“And you still have a ways to go?” Tink asked after what would be their last meeting (in that sense, at least).

“Probably four months,” he sighed, rubbing his round belly, and hoping he’d be able to climb down from the treehouse without too much issue.

“Bloody hell,” she cursed. “Remind me never to piss off Pan.”

“Good luck.”

His belly slowly continued its outward expansion, but that brought another issue to light: the strain it was putting on his lower back. Obviously, it had before as well, but not for such an extended period. Even if his body would eventually go back to normal, he was worried about becoming debilitated over these final few months (and had to imagine labor would be all the worse with such an injury).

But his amazing crew was already ahead of him. On a day when he was particularly averse to being upright, a few of them, led by Lewis, presented him a gift while he was trying to supervise on deck—but mostly finding surfaces upon which he could rest his belly (the rail was the perfect height).

“Captain,” Lewis started, “me and the boys noticed your discomfort, and Smith ‘ere knows his way around a needle,” he gestured back at the crew mate, who saluted, “an’ we found some sailcloth and helped him fashion up this.”

Smith handed him a large loop of fabric that seemed to have some holes in it. “Thank you, men,” he said earnestly. “I appreciate the effort, and I don’t mean to be rude, but…what exactly is it?”

“Is a sling, sir,” Smith said. “For, er…for the babes,” he explained, then made a gesture resembling a round belly.

“Oh!” Killian exclaimed. But he was still confused as to how it worked. “Could you help me put it on?”

Smith and Lewis both obliged him, first hanging the loop off his neck and then instructing him to put his arms through the holes, letting the top part of the fabric rest on his upper back and the rest hang over his front. Then they gently slid the rest under his bump—and he almost immediately sighed in relief.

“Oh, that’s incredible,” he gushed, relishing in the sudden lack of pain and the fact that he could stand taller than he had in days. “Thank you; thank you so much.” No one commented on the tears brimming at his eyes; they’d all gotten used to his heightened emotions.

Armed with the sling, he was ready to face the last six weeks or so of this unending pregnancy.

It was somewhere around the sixteenth month that he finally hit where he’d been at eight months the last time. Much like in the past, he did spend a fair bit of time in his cooler cabin, but the sling allowed him to stay on deck quite often, even though the babes were clearly beginning to run out of space—and fighting each other for what they had.

If the movements of one baby could be described as alien, watching two was downright horrifying sometimes—though at least still slow enough to save him from undue pain. Still—watching his stomach shift from side to side as the boys went at it was by far the oddest sensation he’d had yet; even the crew would pause to watch, and he could hardly blame them. (They’d even take bets on which side would “win”, as it were, although Killian could never quite determine the criteria for victory. Whatever kept them happy, though.)

The practice contractions were longer than he was used to, and much duller because of it. He was curious how that would parlay to actual labor—would it be better, or worse? On the bright side, his belly’s transition from higher on his frame to lower was much more gradual; however, it also meant that once the babes settled on his hips, they were bound to stay there for at least a few more weeks. It occurred just past the eighteen-month mark, and he expected he’d likely go one more.

Even with the sling and the support of his crew, that last month was nothing short of torture. He gave up the ghost when it came to propriety and was often found up on deck with his shirt hiked up around his oversized bump, letting the breeze cool him off. His waddle was probably comical, but no one dared say a thing—well, save for Tink during her occasional visit. Hell, he was even too tired and sore to do anything with her, although her back massages were heavenly.

Each and every day seemed to grow slower and slower, until he couldn’t be arsed to leave his cabin. Smee checked on him fairly often, but there was little to report; hell, he was barely even hungry, the two little lads leaving hardly any room to eat, though he at least managed to stay properly hydrated.

“Please, little ones,” he sighed as he rubbed his too-large bump, laying on his side in bed the morning the calendar marked the start of the nineteenth month. “Please, come soon.”

—-----------------------

A few days later, he began to feel more frequent contractions, but they were still fairly mild—though increasing in frequency and intensity. He let Smee know, but also knew there was little to be done until it was time to push.

He tried to walk through it, but it didn’t help nearly as much this time. Coincidentally, Tink showed up as his slow labor started, and decided to stick around to help out; he was sure Smee’s hand appreciated the reprieve.

However, at the end of that first full day, he was still nowhere near giving birth.

He was closer yet at the end of the next day, but according to Lewis, still had a way to go; he hadn’t felt the urge to push yet, either, so he knew it was true.

Finally, his water broke early in the third day, and the contractions seemed to accelerate, though they’d only just reached the timing and strength of his first labor. At least there was an end in sight.

With the help of Smee and Tink, he somehow made it through the day, intermittently cursing and groaning as things progressed. Finally, it felt like it was time to push; Smee went to get Lewis while Tink held his hand as he started.

The baby came out quickly, though; were it not for Tink’s quick reflexes, the boy likely would have slipped out onto the floor.

“Suppose you don’t really need me then, do ye?” Lewis quipped, having walked in just as Tink made her grab.

“There’s still another one for you to catch,” he joked tiredly. Tink passed the first lad off to Smee and retook her seat at his side as he mentally prepared to deliver the second.

This one seemed to take longer, and hurt far more. “Something’s wrong,” he insisted. “It’s so bad.”

Lewis was studying the (likely awful) scene. “I’m no expert,” he started, though Killian begged to differ, “but I think the babe is backwards—face up instead of face down.”

“Is there anything we can do about that?” Tink asked.

“‘Fraid not. Just gotta keep going.”

Tink squeezed Killian’s hand and rubbed his back as he bore down on the next contraction. And the next, and a few more; he thought he might split in half, but then, with his own tiny scream, the boy was out.

Lewis handed the second one to Tink and quickly snipped both cords, just in time for the after birth to be ready to come out. And when Killian was finally done, he fell back against the pillows, completely spent.

Until he heard the babes start whinging. “Bring them here,” he asked drowsily. “Can I—can I hold them both?”

Tink and Smee exchanged a glance and then a nod, and brought them over, placing one in each arm. He hadn’t had this chance with the first twins, and couldn’t help but laugh at the way they still seemed to be fighting and kicking against each other. They had a lot of spirit, that was for sure.

“Be well, my boys,” he whispered. “Be brave.” He knew there was no fighting once Pan came to claim them, but after spending so long with them, he felt more attached than he had any children yet.

“Took you long enough,” Pan said when he arrived, a few minutes later. “I’ve been waiting months!”

Killian just rolled his eyes.

Pan strode closer to inspect them. “I was worried they’d be twice the size of a newborn, but they look fairly average. Lucky for you.” In the next moment, they were in Pan’s arms. “Thank you again, Captain, for your fine contribution to my crew.”

“Aye, because I did this by choice,” Killian spat back, but it hardly had any vigor.

“Maybe someday,” Pan replied with an evil wink. “I suppose I forgot to let you name the last one; got any ideas for these two?”

He immediately thought back to the stories of the gods he’d read in the naval academy. “Castor and Pollux.”

Pan scrunched up his face at them. “Alright, but I can’t guarantee they won’t end up with nicknames. Until next time,” he farewelled with a nod, and again flew out the window, with the babes—and a couple more pieces of Killian’s heart—with him.

Tink held him through the breakdown again.

—------------------------

It took twice as long for his body to return to normal, to no surprise. But the next time Pan sent him out of realm, he vowed not to return.

Especially because he got wind of the weapon that would finally—finally—let him get his revenge on the Dark One. He hadn’t forgotten, despite all that had happened in the last decade.

What followed next was a trail of queens, sorceresses, and curses that left him frozen in time, on some more landlocked adventures, and finally, to a town called Storybrooke.

————————————————–

thanks for reading! hope you liked it! tagging a few: @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @mathiaskejseren @88infinity88 @mischievousgraxaim

#captain pan #killian mpreg #you owe me #My ff

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