#'without them fully realizing how fucked up the organization was'

[lexawoah13]

TO-DO Oneshot

Synopsis: when a regular shooting of TO-DO has a hitch, the director is left begging his staff to fill in the parts of the models who failed to show up. What could go wrong when you get paired up with Soobin, the man you’ve been crushing on for months?

Warnings: oral (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, cum talk, fingering, handjob, fantasy play, inappropriate photos, bunny suit, let me know if I miss something!

Word Count: 10K

Tag list(open btw): @sooluving

The day started simple enough. You showed up to work ready to film the TO-DO episode scheduled for today. Setting up the props and getting everything organized before the guys show up for makeup, when you are approached by the director.

“Y/N! We need your help!? PLEASEEE PLEASE SAY YOU’LL DO IT!?” falling to his knees and bowing in desperation.

“Oh god! what’s going on?!”

“The male models that were supposed to show up today for the episode are a no show! We have no idea where they are and we have to begin shooting in 20 minutes. The guys are already fully booked for the rest of the day so we can’t hold them up”

“Okay so what do you want me to….”realization washes over you of what he’s about to ask you ”OH NO! NO! Nonononono NO WAY am i wearing those things in front of THEM” you refute his pleading. There was no way in HELL you were modeling those costumes for the 5 men you considered your friends. Your relationship with the members developed into quite the friendship from sitting in your chair. You hang out with them outside of work and there is no way you are giving them that leverage over you. You would never live it down, especially as long as Beomgyu was alive.

You see, today’s episode was supposed to consist of the guys drawing live models in their respective animal suits. Only it was supposed to be male models in pretty revealing Halloween versions of said animals. You know, corsets, masks, ears, and very short skirts (if you were ever so lucky).

“Y/N PLEASE! You will only have to model 1 and it will be in a private room so the others won't even see you. We will also blur your face when it airs so no one can see you. Actually it will probably be your whole body. PLEASE! pleasepleasepleaseplease PLEASE WE ARE DESPERATE!”

You think it over. “I want what the models were being paid”

“OF COURSE I’ll give you double! Please”

You turn around and mull it over again in your head. To be honest the only two you wouldn’t want to model in front of were Beomgyu and Soobin. Beomgyu for obvious reasons. The menace would torture you afterwards and never let you breathe peacefully without bringing you up in that “bear” costume (if you could even call it that). Soobin on the other hand… it wasn’t because he would be disrespectful or anything, honestly he would probably be the easiest one to model for. But, the fact that you’re completely head over heels for the man and the idea of him seeing you exposed like that makes you want to die. Picturing his eyes on you at all would make you a complete mess.

“I’LL GIVE YOU A RAISE! PLEASE” the director breaks you out of your thoughts.

Fuck you could really use the raise….”how will the outfits be chosen?” you ask, trying to convince yourself to do this for the money.

“Random draw. No one really wants to do this and that seems like the fairest way.”

“Fine.” you exhale, unable to believe you're actually gonna do this. “I’ll do it. But you're also buying me lunch for a month!”

“DONE! You are an absolute godess you know that!”

“Yeah yeah.. Let's get this over with”

You walk over to the other staff who were going to do this with you, seeing a couple of your work friends also in the circle.

“He got you too, huh?” one of the producers asks you

“Yeah…” you say defeated

“Figured he would. Especially since you and the guys are so close” another says from the styling department

“Yea but this is too much… fuck! if i get Soobin or Gyu i’m gonna off myself” you sigh

“Yea i can’t imagine you in front of Soobin, especially in that bunny girl fit. You’re so in love with him it's crazy he hasn't noticed yet” one of the junior assistants teases

“SHHHHHHH! Can you not! What if he pops up and hears you!” you cover her mouth

“Omg they're not even here yet. You know they let us know as soon as they enter the building over the walkies'' the stylist teases

“Ughhhh.. Can we just do this? Put me out of my misery”

“Okay but we have to promise no switches after we pick! Keep it fair! We all know no one wants to be with Beomgyu because of the teasing we will have to endure from him for the rest of our lives. So no whining, just do it!” one of the senior writers says, putting her hand in the middle to signify making a pact.

“Fine!” you place your hand on top of the others showing you agree. The hat is grabbed by your senior and she holds it in the middle “on 3 we all reach in and pick one” everyone nods “1” she starts

“I mean my odds are 3 out of 5”

“2” she side eyes you continuing the countdown

“So it's not that bad. “ you continue trying to reassure yourself

“3”

“It’s only 2 names I don't really want so what are the chances..” you continue rambling while you all reach in for the costumes.

Everyone opens their slips at the same time and you feel your blood turn cold, “fuck” you say under your breath.

Everyone goes around saying their costume

“Fox/ Yeonjun”

“Penguin/ Kai”

“Fucking bear” the stylist says annoyed “kill me now”

“Cat/ Taehyun”

Which only leaves you. Everyone staring with Giant grins plastered on their faces at your horror..

“Bunny… Soobi-”

“They’ve arrived everyone in positions” blasts over the walkies.

‘Fuck. fuck. FUCKKKKK!’ plays over and over again in your brain as you walk to the dressing room, set with your suit.

Opening the door, you see the white satin, corseted one piece. With matching white fluffy ears and wrist bands. Accompanied by white pumps and white thigh high tights, each having white fur on them as well. You also assumed there was a large fluffy white tail on the back of your suit.

The director knocks on the door

“Come in”

“Oh it’s you… see you got the bunny suit…” he cringes for you

“Yeahhhh…” you say barely above a whisper

“This will be interesting” he silently chuckles to himself, resulting in you death glaring him

Clearing his throat “anyways… can you just put your hair up in a high ponytail with some curls? For makeup keep it light but add some extra blush on your nose to look like a ‘bunny nose’”

All you can do is nod

“You’ll be fine. Soobin is a gentleman, which you’re more than aware of. You’ll be in safe hands” he says, patting you on the shoulder before he walks out.

Getting ready is a blur to you. 9284692161 thoughts running through your head about how bad this could go. You’re not ugly by any means but that doesn’t mean you’re not self conscious. You’re on the curvier side, with a full bust and hips, and a pretty juicy ass. This suit is so tiny you can see every roll and ripple from your stretch marks and extra skin. Not to mention it barely covers your womanhood with how small this gusset is. ‘How the fuck were the men gonna hide their dicks in these?’ you think to yourself.

“Kill me now,” you say outloud with a heavy sigh to your empty room.

A knock at your door breaks you out of your self loathing enough to go open it.

“Hey, how are you?” your work bestie asks you as your head peaks though the tiniest hole crack you can manage. You grab her arm and pull her through.

“How do you think I'm doing? This was the BIGGEST MISTAK-” She cuts you off abruptly as she takes in the sight of you.

“Holy shit babe you look incredible”

“Hahahahha funny. You don’t need to say that. I know how ridiculous i look”

“No no I don't think you understand. You mustn’t be seeing yourself cause Soobin is gonna lose his fucking mind when he sees you”

“Yeahhhhh riiighttt..” you stretch out your words

“Yeah babe, he will. Speaking of! I came here to tell you he was asking about you the whole time he was in hair and makeup.”

“What? Why?”

“He said he was worried you were sick or something. Said you also weren’t answering his texts. He sounded pretty bummed actually. When he walked in you could see his head spinning looking for you” she says raising her brows at you suggestively.

“That's just Soobin. That's how he acts with everyone…”

“No babe.. It’s not. He said it was weird without you there. He missed you, I could tell.”

“Yeah just as a friend though! He was just worried ‘cause he couldn't reach me and his anxiety filled ass though I hated him or something.”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?” she scrunches her eyes at you, disgusted at how you wont believe that Soobin could possibly like you as much as you like him. After all, she sees the way he looks at you everyday.

“Models gather in the common room” the walkie relays

“Fuck! kill me please?” you beg holding your hand in front of your chest as you plead with your bestie.

“Nah hon.. Someones gotta see how hot you look besides me”

“Bitch”

“Love you too! Now off you go! Say hi to Binnie for me!” she blows you a kiss as you walk to the door. Opening it and flipping her off while you close it.

Whistles and cheers can be heard from the minimal staff present as the 5 of you make your way to the common area.

“Yeah yeah everyone pipe down” the director instructs

“First off! Thank you to the 5 amazing ladies who stepped in at the last minute to save our asses! You all look incredible and nothing would be possible without you.” Everyone claps for you all. And all you can think about is how you wish you would turn into an ant and be stepped on. “We are going to bring the guys in shortly and fill them in on today’s task. They however won't know it's you modeling until they enter your private rooms. We will let them in to talk to you first and break the shock. As funny as it would be to release that… I don't think it’s wise for others to know who you are when it airs.” everyone sighs and nods in agreement “so after a very short interaction, we will ask them to leave and we will refilm their “first look”. After that we will leave you all alone. No mics, no cameras besides the polaroids they can use for reference photos. In editing we will blur your faces and bodies so you will not be identifiable.” more sighs of relief were released by the five of you. ”so, any questions?” no one says anything so you rap it up. “Alright then! Let's get you ladies to your rooms and have a great shoot! FIGHTING!” everyone repeats him and goes their own ways.

Once in your room, your anxiety worsens. Your heart beats 1000 miles a minute. Sweaty palms and it’s hard to breathe. Pacing back and forth across the little floor space there was left from the giant easel in the corner. “What am I doing?! This is insane! I can’t do this” you say to yourself. When you hear the doorknob twist. Panic shooting through all the nerves in your body. You stand up straighter, fix your hair to make sure nothing is sticking up and flatten out the suit across your stomach. Turning back on because you don’t think you can face him right away.

The door shuts and you hear Soobin shyly say “annyeonghaseyo” his voice getting higher at the end.

You say it back to him quietly and slowly turn around “annyeonghaseyo”, grabbing your arm with the other reaching across the front of your body, looking at the ground. You wish you could curl up in a ball and die.

“Oh Y/N” he sounds breathless

“Hey Binnie..” you slowly look up to meet his eyes, lifting the hand from your held arm to wave, awkwardly smiling.

“You… you-” he clears his throat “you look-”

“Ridiculous I know..” you cut him off, hanging your head in your hands, slightly pushing your breasts together “Please don’t tell the guys. I can’t live with Gyu torturing me for eternity”

“No, no. NO!” panic fills his voice “I was gonna say you look incredible” he says and immediately turns bright red

“Really?” You ask shocked he would say that

“Yes! You really do. Wait, so this is why you weren’t in hair and makeup today? I was worried! I thought you were-” he walks over to you and grabs your arms, rubbing up and down them when he cuts himself off, looking down into your eyes as you look up into his shining brown ones. "I thought you were sick or something. You wouldn’t answer my texts.”

“Sorry this morning has been kinda crazy” unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face. This whole situation was just too ridiculous..

Soobin however, was fighting every instinct in his body to not kiss you. Walking into the room and seeing your plump ass with the bunny tail was enough to make him hard. He knew it was you as soon as he saw it. Afterall, he does ogle your body everyday. Wishing he would get the chance to see you in all your glorious perfection one day. If only he could break out of his annoyingly nervous self when he’s around you and tell you how perfect you are.

Seeing you turn around with the complete outfit fulfills all of his fantasies. Fuck you looked so hot standing before him. How the fuck is he gonna get through this shoot?

There’s a knock on the door, signaling them that the crew was there to film his reaction to seeing you.

“Are you both ready?” The director asks, internally applauding himself for this moment. He’s not stupid he sees the way you both look at each other.

“Yeah I guess.. you good Soob?” You ask him, he hasn’t broken eye contact with you

“Yeah sure” he finally looks at the director.

“Alright let’s do this thing! We’ll be right back Y/N” he winks at you. Soobin looks at you over his shoulder the whole time he walks out of the room. All you can do is supportively smile at him, tilting your bunny ear clad head to the side. His heart is pounding so hard right now he’s pretty sure everyone can hear it. And he’d be right. The crew all chuckled under their breath at how flustered he was.

“Hey Soobin” the director nudged his arm drawing his attention to him. “Don’t let this opportunity slip away” leaning in to whisper his last words of advice “make your move”

Soobin’s eyes widen unsure if he heard him right, “what?”

“You heard me, don’t waste it Soobin” he winks at him before clapping his hands together to get everyone ready to proceed filming.

Soobin’s “intro” goes as well as it can with how awkward he is in this situation. They wrap up the quick take, letting you know they will be back in an hour, and you are both left alone once again. Tension lays thick in the air. Who would talk first? Better yet how you were both going to make it through this. Unable to take the silence anymore, you ask “how do you want to do this?”

“Hmm?” he asks, lost in his own mind about what the director meant.

“What do you want me to do Soobin? How do you want me to pose for you?”

“OH right.. Umm just do what feels comfortable to you i guess?” rubbing the back of his neck as he walks over to grab the polaroid camera left on the table.

“Soobin… absolutely none of this is comfortable! I look like I just walked out of a teenage boys wet dream”

‘It’s gonna be my wet dream tonight’ Soobin can’t help but think to himself.

“Yeah, right… Ummm.. how about, I mean since you’re already dressed like that, you pose like a bunny girl…?” deciding to shoot his shot because this opportunity will not present itself again.

“What, Like this?” channeling your inner Bunny Girl popping your hip out hard to the side. Your head tilted the same way while pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with big doe eyes.

“Yeah, just like that! Don’t move” Soobin picks up the camera to capture you in that pose.

“Kay” you shyly say, not budging from your position as Soobin takes the picture.

You continue posing for him in whatever way you can imagine. And when you run out of ideas, Soobin’s thorough knowledge of anime and manga comes into full use, directing you in poses you would have never thought of.

However, as time passed, Soobin’s pervy side was getting the best of him, taking the photos he would never ever use, and just keep for later. Like as soon as filming was over and he was alone, left to think of you all night.

Soobin maneuvers himself in all different positions. Eventually making his way between your legs, wanting to get a photo of you looking down at him.

While sliding through your legs, his eyes land at the apex of your thighs, staring at your barely covered pussy. The white satin laying tightly over your core. So tight, he could see the shape of you through it. ‘Fuck fuck fuck this is insane. I shouldn’t be looking but FUCK WHY DOES IT LOOK SO GOOD. fuck I want her on my tongue. Just a taste…” Soobin internally fantasizes about you moving the fabric to the side, exposing your soaking wet folds, glistening in your slick and begging to be cleaned by his mouth. His jeans start to feel tighter- “FUCK NO! STOP BEING A PERV YOU LOSER!’

You seem to be off in another world though and completely unaware of his position. ‘Maybe I could… No no I can't, that's so wrong. She’d hate me if she ever found out. But… that’s IF she finds out. If.. if is good.’

Soobin picks up the camera, focusing on the white piece of shiny fabric barely covering your pussy, making sure it’s perfect before he clicks the shutter button to capture you on film. Only for him to see. He shoves the picture into his shirt pocket and pushes his way through to finally see your face.

You look down over your breasts, bending slightly at your hips, to look down at Soobin. “ kay so what now?” batting your eyelashes.

“UHH-” trembling over his words ‘FUCK WHY IS SHE LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!!! I swear ro god she's doing this on purpose’ he swallowed thickly “umm that looks good! Yes, just lean over a bit more and that perfect” horny Soobin is fully taking over. He wants YOU so badly.

For some reason you kept feeling more and more confident around him too. The way he would praise you throughout this whole ordeal was making you feel a type of way. You could feel the tingling in your stomach migrate its way throughout your whole body. Leading you to be more forward than you usually would. His eyes on you make you more confident by the second. ‘Fuck why is he looking at me like that? He looks so good’ thinking to yourself as you admire the way Soobin’s hair falls back off of his forehead. Watching the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips while he focuses the camera on you.

What catches Soobin's attention though, is the way your thighs start to rub together. Grinding together and making your hips sway slightly. ‘Fuck this is impossible’ he thinks while trying to maneuver to make his jeans not feel so tight.

“This okay Binnie?” you softly ask, squeezing your breasts together with your arms

“YeP!” He squeaks, taking the picture quickly, and moving to get out from underneath you.

You notice something fall to the ground from his pocket as he shifts. Noticing it’s a polaroid you move forward and bend down to pick it up. Curious, you turn it around to look at it while you speak up.

“Hey Bin you dropped th-” the word dies in your throat as you see the picture. The photo is solely of the apex between your thighs. Front and center is your pussy, barely covered, by the tiny amount of white satin fabric, you can even see through it a little bit (all thanks to how wet you currently were).

When Soobin sees you holding the photo, and the red flush covering your face, he knows immediately what photo it is, tapping his chest pocket to confirm his nightmare is coming true.

“Y/N I-... Le-Let me explain! It’s not what you think! It’s uhhh… i uhh- “ Seeing him panic with wide eyes and a crimson face that rivals your own, fills you with the sudden urge to toy with him. Falling to your knees, you crawl over to him, showing off the assets you know he loves most. You’ve always known Soobin was a boob man. He rarely passed the chance to size up your chest when he was presented with it. Straddling his hips, you put on your best innocent face. Big doe eyes and pouty pink lips, glossy after just licking them. “Binnie baby..” you lean forward, pushing your tits to his face as your breathily whisper into his ear “if you wanted your own pictures, all you had to do was ask” punctuating your statement by pressing a kiss to his pulse point. He stops breathing, his cock instantly hardening underneath you, while his hands shoot to your hips to hold you there. Thumbs digging in roughly.

“Y/N wait… fuck- ” he curses as your lower yourself on him “for real?”

“Mmmmhmmm” you seductively agree, biting your lower lip while you look him in the eyes.

“Anything I want? The question barely audible while his eyes lower to your lips.

You bring your face into his, feathering his lips with your own as your whisper to him “anything you want Soobin”

Soobin instantly reaches for the camera but you stop him. You push yourself into him as you reach down his thigh and into his pocket as you reach for his phone in his pocket. “Use yours instead” holding it out to him.

Soobin snatches the phone from your hand at light speed and instantly takes photos of you, just as you are right now. Photos of your chest, your face, as many as he can grab. He quickly switches to video, not wanting to miss a second of this as he simultaneously snaps pictures of you in motion.

You give into his every want and need. Moving as you think he would like, letting him guide you into the positions he wants. Even allowing him to take down your ponytail, releasing your curls along your shoulders.

Unable to take this position any longer, Soobin wraps his arm around your waist as he flips you onto the floor making you softly gasp. Your hair spreads out across the cold tile beneath you, bunny ears still standing straight up on top of your head. Soobin is about to combust looking at you spread out below him on the floor, while his legs straddle either side of you. ‘She’s so fucking cute right now. Her pink nose is adorable, especially when she's shy like this. She’s even blushing all down her neck and -” Soobin’s eyes widen as he is stopped in his thoughts. As his eyes are trailing down your body, he notices one of your breasts has vacated your corset and is perked up, looking back at him. Your pretty perked nipple making him salivate, begging to be taken into his mouth. Fantasizing about getting you completely out of that bunny suit, you interrupt his thoughts.

“Soobin?” your voice is meek and quiet “Is something wrong?” you ask, starting to curl into yourself, feeling self conscious for the first time under his gaze.

“What..” he asks confused until he realizes he was eye fucking you as you watched him “NO! Nothing is wrong! It’s just your.. Your umm..” Soobin clears his throat, “your boob is out”

“OH!” you look down to see you were in fact exposed. “Oh god, sorry I didn’t even notice” being too caught up in the moment you didn’t even realize your tit was out. You reach to fix yourself when Soobin’s large hand grabs yours to stop you. He brings your hand above your head, looking into your eyes trying to gauge how you feel right now. “Soobin..” you breathe, shock and nerves creeping in. Feeling the mutual tension, Soobin makes his decision.

Soobin breaks eye contact to look at your exposed chest again. Bringing his free hand up, pulling down the top of your suit completely revealing your chest to him as you gasp in shock.

“So pretty…” looking at you in the most adoring way “prettiest tits I’ve ever seen” whispering his compliments through shallow breathing. He releases your hand, kneading a breast in each of his huge palms. “So pretty Y/N, so perfect” Pulling hushed moans from you as he leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your peaked bud. Pulling away as he grazes his teeth across it, causing you to hiss a quiet ‘fuck’ as the sensation does too much to you. Your melodic sounds go straight to his dick.

Soobin continues sucking on your chest, leaving purple marks in his wake. His hands roaming your exposed skin, traveling lower towards your hips. You need more. You need him to give you more. Your desire takes over, pushing your hips up to meet his, whining as you move against him.

“More” you whisper

“Hmm?” he barely heard you too caught up in his actions

“More Soobin, please” you whine

Unable to stop the smirk on his lips, he has to tease you a little bit. He wasn’t going to give up this chance to fluster you “what was that? I can’t hear you Y/N did you say something?”

You grab his face, pulling him in closer to you and whine between bated breath “BiiNn- More, touch mee- Uhh more PLEassee” Your eyes glossed over with need.

“Fuck Y/N what are you doing to me?” Finally meeting your lips, Soobin pulls you up to sit in his lap, moving the fabric to the side so he can finally touch your soaked cunt. Soobin groans into your mouth, mixing with your moans. Having his long fingers rub along your sensitive folds, circling your clit, making your brain short circuit, losing all sense of control and reason previously holding you back.

You grip his shirt by the neck, pulling him closer to you deepening your kiss. “Take it off.” punctuating your demand by biting his lower lip.

Soobin moves at light speed, pulling his shirt over his head, to reconnect your lips. Not wanting to waste any moments he can be connected to you. Migrating to your neck where he makes quick work to leave his mark. Purple splotches popping up along your collarbone and chest. Relishing in the pretty moans leaving your mouth. Kissing down your chest he reaches your suit again.

Trying to pull down your suit, he’s met with resistance. The zipper gets stuck as he fumbles with irritation.

“Fuck” he grumbles before he turns you around “as hot as you are in this suit, I really fucking hate it right now.” fingers struggling to unzip you.

You get impatient too, “here!” wrapping your arm around to pull the zipper down

“Stand up baby, take it off please” he motions for you to stand up, holding your hips as you do.

On your feet, you look down at Soobin, his eyes sparkling with desire as you shimmy out of the satin suit you were so self conscious in moments ago. While the lust is fogging over your thoughts, you freeze realizing he can see everything. Anxiety begins to crawl back into your stomach. Butterflies swarming in the pit as you see him size you up from top to bottom.

Lost in the sight of you fully on display for him, Soobin can’t help but stare and take in every inch of your body. It was everything he ever dreamed and more. Practically salivating at the thought of having you all to himself. Eyes between your thighs to your breasts, landing on your stomach. You’re holding your breath when he gently says ”so pretty. You’re beautiful y/n. So so beautiful.” you can hear the love and sincerity in his words, making the butterflies and unease fly away. Still praising your body with his gaze, Soobin moves forward, bringing himself closer to your dripping sex, trailing kisses along your thighs. “Need to taste” he says, more so to himself as he lifts his head, running his smooth tongue from your opening to your clit in one deliciously slow stroke. His tongue feels unreal, soothing the tension building inside you. Moaning as he continues to lap up your arousal. Soobin lifts your leg over his shoulder to get more access to you, his plush lips kissing your clit.

Soobin leaves no part of your core untouched. His tongue travels the length of your slit, swirling your clit and sucking it between his lips, holding you steady with a tight grip on your ass. Groping your cheek as he guides you along his tongue.

“eugh” You run your finger through his hair, gripping tightly so he can’t escape from the pleasure he’s giving you. Flattening his tongue along your folds slick with his saliva. Sucking on them until they slip out with a loud ‘POP’ as he groans from your intoxicating taste. You push your hips forward and Soobin takes the hint, swirling his tongue around your dripping entrance before he thrusts it in.

“Fuck Bin!” you gasp as pleasure buzzes throughout your body. “Ughhh- Yes keep.. Keep going” your breathing ragged and interrupted by the moans you can’t hold back.

Soobin moans against you, “yes baby- fuckkk…- come for me” he pleads between breaths. His large hands pull you in closer to him, allowing him to dive deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with every movement.

Pulling back for a second, you groan in disappointment, dropping your head back on your shoulders until you hear and feel the wetness of Soobin spitting on your clit. The surprise and vulgarity of the sounds echoing around the room tighten then knot in your stomach more and more while Soobin immediately returns to burying himself in your cunt. Your hips move on their own. Bouncing and grinding on Soobin’s tongue. You can feel him smile against you, as he begins to help you. Lifting you by your ass and dropping you down on his tongue so he can get even deeper. Vibrations flutter along your folds from his groans, drinking the sweet nectar flowing from you, thighs trembling signaling how close you were.

“So good… fuck princess -so hot” Soobin mewls against your clit. Distracting you while he adds two fingers along with his tongue. Reaching your spongy spot while his tongue licks your gummy walls alongside his digits. Your body is on fire, nerves overfiring with every tiny movement Soobin makes along you. The way his nose brushes your clit every time he moves his tongue or wraps his fingers to reach your g spot. The way his Grip is tightening on your ass in the most deliciously painful way, sure to leave bruises of his fingertips for tomorrow, all while pulling you closer into him.

“Fuck- UGH- I’m gonna- SooB-” your words stumble out as you try to warn him. But Soobin just nods eagerly, not stopping for even a second to breathe. With one last thrust of his fingers inside and his nose gently brushing against your clit, the tension in your body finally snaps, and your orgasm crashes over you. You shake and tremble as your arousal coats Soobin's hand and face, but he stays right there. Continuing to hold and support you while you ride out every wave of pleasure until your climax subsides.

You collapse to your knees, breathless and trembling in front of Soobin. He wipes the remnants of release from his face, unable to reach it all with just his tongue. Watching him lick your cum off of his plump bunny lips that you’ve fantasized of so often almost has cumming again.

“Soobin I-” you start before he pulls you close by the back of your neck, kissing you with a passion and intensity unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. The taste of yourself on his lips only reignites your desire for him. You wanted to taste him, feel his heavy length on your tongue and make him cum deep in your throat.

Moaning into his kiss, you waste no time in undoing his belt. Ripping it off and throwing it across the room before moving onto his pants. He can barely comprehend what's happening as you pull them down his thighs in one fluid motion.

“Woah- Woah Y/N slow dowNNnN-” he moans against your lips, while trying to push you back slightly. “Fuuuck” It not that he didn’t want this - because he does, He REALLY FUCKING wants it. BAD. But he didn’t want you to overwhelm yourself after how hard you just came.

“Baby-Fuck bun- stop for a- ahhh- a sec” he tries to convince you

“UGGHHH why?!” you say irritably, wanting nothing more and to suck his cock right then and there. Palming him through his briefs, you run your fingers over the wet spot on his briefs, feeling the precum soaking through the fabric. Knowing he wants it just as badly as you do. Rubbing your thumb over his leaking tip through the fabric makes Soobin’s resolve start to crumble.

“Fuck bunny”- i- i just don’t wan- faaawwk-’ cutting himself off with a loud moan.

“Up” you simply state

“Hmm?” he asks, confused but unable to resist your commanding tone, his pupils dilate from pleasure.

“Stand. Up.” you command simply. Taking his arms and forcing him to stand up.

You look up at him moving in closer to his still covered bulge

“I wanna taste you” not breaking eye contact as you lick the wet spot sitting atop his aching tip. His salty essence makes you moan loudly and your eyes roll to the back of your head from the delectable taste. Lost in your desire for him, you migrate lower, kissing his length.

Eliciting heavy breathing and groans from Soobin.

“fuck Y/N” he pants before being taken over by his deep, raspy moans, tangling his fingers through your hair to ground himself. Fighting hard to not instantly cum down your throat as you tease him through the soaking wet fabric.

Desperate for more of him, you remove Soobin's briefs and reveal his mouth-watering cock. A silent gasp escapes your lips as it slaps against his abs. You already knew he was big, but fuck.. seeing him fully exposed was mind-blowing. His member was thick with plump veins that would glide deliciously against your walls. And the length...it could easily hit every one of the pleasure points deep inside you. The sight of it made your mouth water with anticipation. Not to mention, his dick was actually pretty. The tip was a deep shade of pink, glistening in the wetness from your previous teasing, practically begging to be taken into your mouth.

Craving more, your tongue reaches out, gliding along the underside of his cock slowly, swirling your slippery tongue around the tip. Savoring the taste of him, you moan as you envelope him with your lips. Your moans radiate throughout his body, causing him to tighten his grip on your hair.

“Gahh-y/n fuck your mouth feels so good” Soobin moans, unable to stop his hips from moving deeper into your throat. Drool drips down your chin, gagging on him as he pushes against the back of your throat. Hollowing your cheeks you allow more of his length in, using your tongue to stimulate his tip when Soobin’s hips pull back. Gripping his thigh with one hand for balance, your free hand moves to grope his balls. Massaging and lightly squeezing them while Soobin whimpers words of praise to you. “Feels so good”, “fuck yes bunny”, “such a good girl for me”

Every word shoots to your core, making you drip with need. Pulling off his cock, still attached by a string of spit from your lips to his tip, creating a sinfully pornographic scene between the both of you. Panting and flushed, you watch Soobin’s dick twitch, as if begging for more attention. Humming in approval, your hand encloses around his length, pumping up and down while you look up at him. When Soobin’s brown irises lock on your playful ones, you kitten lick his tip teasingly while you watch him squirm to control himself.

“You’re too fucking cute Binnie” feigning innocence while biting your bottom lip, drifting closer and closer to the base of him. Smiling as you run the flat of your tongue along his taint, running all the way to his head.

Soobin’s groan was possibly the best sound you have ever heard. Greedy, you wanted to hear more. Wanted to hear how good you were making him feel. You spit on his shaft, jerking him off while returning to his balls. Licking and kissing all over before popping one into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue.

Soobin’s knees start to shake, becoming too stimulated while trying to hold himself back. He falls back and leans against the table behind him, unknowingly giving you even more access to him. Humming in satisfaction against him, you bring him closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck Y/N I’m so close” he’s a moaning mess.

“Cum for me Soob! Want your cum” you beg, pumping your fist along his shaft faster, and twisting. Sucking and twirling your tongue around his tip. “Cum binnie”

“GahHhH-” cumming on your tongue, Soobin’s grip on your hair tightens, pulling you further down his length so he can pump his cum down your throat.

You can’t help but moan around his length, swallowing every last drop while you continue to milk his cock.

Both of you are panting and out of breath. Licking your lips, you stare up at the man you’ve been in love with for months, head thrown back and adam's apple bobbing as he tries to collect himself. Effortlessly beautiful as he always is, but this time it’s different. He looks like sex. Literal sex. His hair is damp and slightly messy from running your fingers through it. His skin softly glistens with the light sheen of sweat covering his body. His muscles are taught as he leans against that table, tensed from the orgasm you gave him moments ago. Soobin turns his head to look at you, his eyes lazy but full of desire.

“Come ‘ere” he softly demands, holding out a hand to you.

Raising to your feet you walk to him taking his outreached hand. With a light tug he pulls you into his chest, enveloping you in a tight hug. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he asks into the top of your head.

Pulling back you look up at him “Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself” pulling him down by his chin, catching his lips with yours. The intensity increases quickly, both of you still craving more of one another.

Softly groaning into your lips, Soobin’s hands travel down to grab your ass, kneading your round cheeks with his large hands, pulling you closer and closer. But it’s not close enough. With your arms wrapped around his neck and hands tangled in his hair, Soobin lifts you up finally getting the closeness he craved. You let out a startled yelp from his sudden action, causing you both to laugh into the kiss. “You good?” still laughing at how cute he found you.

“Never better” you retort before capturing his lips again, resuming your heated kissing. Pulling yourself up his body and rubbing your slick folds along Soobin’s hardened length. Whining with need and want, pushing yourself a little farther everytime. His sensitive tip hooking and sliding just past your dripping opening. Both of your moans are sinfully pornographic and echo off the walls surrounding you.

“Fuck Y/N-”

“BiNNiE” you whine against his lips, moving your hips to slip him inside you again, but he holds your hips tight, not letting you move like you wish.

“What? Are you that needy bunny?” he smirks, a confidence washing over him from your efforts

“Mmhmmm” you quickly nod “please Bin”

“You really are a filthy bunny aren’t you? Just dying for me to fuck you right?” You’ve never seen or heard Soobin act like this, but fucking hell… this new side of him is so incredibly hot you can feel your essence stream out of you and along his cock. His chocolate brown eyes are almost black now and his gaze makes you want to submit to his every word.

“Just a bunny, your filthy bunny, Binnie I need you PLEASE”

“Fuck” he exhales, collecting the little restraint he has to complete this fantasy he’s always had. Letting you down he flips you over, pressing your ass against him, lightly pulling you back by the bunny ears still attached to your head to say his next words into your ear. His hot breath raising goosebumps all over your body. “Gonna let me fuck you stupid like the bunny you are? Gonna let me breed you? Fuck you full of my cum? Hmm Y/N? Is that what you want?”

He’s turned you into a complete mess underneath him. And he hasn’t even touched you yet. You're a moaning whiny mess, pressing yourself harder and harder against him, craving the fullness you want so bad.

“Yes, fuck yes Binnie! Want it, want it so bad. Give me your cum Soobin pleaseE!”

“Yeah bunny? You wanna be full of my babies?” Pushing your chest into the table, teasing you as he rubs his tip along your folds, teasingly pushing against your hole waiting for your answer.

“FUCK SOOBIN yes! Wanna be so full, wanna have your babies” It’s like he had you hypnotized. The thought of him pumping every last drop of his cum in you to have his babies had you clenching around nothing, desperate for him. “Please Binnie” you beg looking over your shoulder at him, “ Fuck your bunny, please”

With a soft moan, he confesses, “God damnit Y/N you’re gonna be the death of me” as he slowly sinks into you. Both of your Moans harmonize as he thrusts deeper, finally fulfilling both of your wants and desires. Savoring every moment of his perfectly sculpted length moving within you, stretching you in the most illustrious way.

“Pussy feels so good” he pants into your ear, fully sheathing his length inside you. Kissing along your shoulder he continues to praise you “so wet for me to baby, feels so good”, “you’re perfect, so fucking perfect”, “more than I ever dreamed” punctuating every statement with a kiss down your spine.

“Fuck Soobin please move” you plead, meeting his eyes over your shoulder again, watering with need. Soobin wraps an arm around your torso to palm one of your breasts, bringing you to his chest so he can kiss you. His other hand guides your leg up to rest on the table, opening you up more for him as he begins to drag himself along your walls before he begins to thrust back into you.

“Oh my fuck-KiNG GawwDd” you gasp into his mouth, his thick cock hitting the sweet spot inside you with knee buckling percision as you wrap your arm up around his neck to keep your balance. “So good- mm- fuck Soob so good!” Sloppily kissing him as he literally fucks you stupid. Your brain has completely stopped working, too stimulated to focus on anything but how perfect Soobin is fucking your right now. They way he moves in and out of you so smoothly, as every vein and ridge fits along you so well. Tears fall from your lashes as he brings you closer to climax.

“So good for me baby” pulling back from your lips, Soobin flips you around to face him, leaning you back against the table. Positioning himself between your legs, pulling you in by the back of your neck to meet your forehead to his, bangs pushed back slick with sweat. Locking onto your tear glistening eyes, while his free hand travels to wipe away the tear falling down your cheek, smiling as he tells you exactly what you’ve been feeling “you're made for me Y/N. We’re made for each other.” as he locks onto your lips while simultaneously sliding back into your fluttering entrance without needing to use his hands to guide him. Fully inside, your walls clench around his length, moans ripping through your throat as you come undone, his skilled fingers moving to circle your clit. Voice soft with affection, Soobin confesses his intentions, declaring “You’re mine, my bunny y/n. No one else gets to have you like this. Please?” Soobin hips don’t stop, fucking you through your climax, nodding to what he says while you moan and whine. His sentiment pushing you over the edge, snapping the tightly wound knot inside you. “Just want you. Fuck want you so bad. Please be mine” begging between thrusts. “Be all mine”

“Yours-mmm- ‘m all yours Binnie! Your bunny- jus’ yours” choking on your words as you mewl from the intense orgasm wrecking your body. Soobin’s movements become erratic, ready to cum.

“Gonna cum- fuck baby- ”

“Cum Soobin- cum for me- want it” excitement rings through your voice

“Want my cum? Please baby let me cum” he pleads in a deeper, raspy voice, trying to hold back

“Cum bin, cum in me- claim me- wanna be yours” wrapping your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, you pull Soobin in to Kiss him, capturing his moan as he paints your insides white with his semen. Soobin pulls you in as close as he can, pushing deeper into you, pressing against your spongy core.

As he releases the last drops of his seed, releasing your lips but keeping you close, his gentle voice quietly declares “you’re mine. All mine y/n”

“Mmmm” you hum in agreement and he pulls out of you, covered in both of your fluids, small moans released from how overstimulated you both are.

Feeling empty now, anxiety creeps back in, making you ask “Are you mine too?” You ask with a slight waver in your voice, uncertain of his answer.

Soobin can’t help the stupid grin plastered on his face, thinking how could he not be? “Always have been Y/N” speaking against your lips before kissing softly.

“Huh?“ eyes wide as if he had just told you the craziest thing, and didn’t just fuck your brains out.

“I’m yours Y/N” he chuckles, holding your face in his hands, nose to nose “I want to be with you”

“Soobin- I-“ you start to stutter, your brain rapid firing ‘wait he likes me?’ ‘For real for real?’ ‘Holy fuck I love him’ ‘wait is he just saying that cause he thinks he needs to?’ ‘Whatever I can take friends with benefits’ ‘his dick🥵’ ’but I actually like him’ ‘no he said it he likes you back’… all at once overwhelming you, and unable to finish your sentence.

“It’s okay, if you don’t want to be with me I get it. We can just ignore this but-“

“WHAT NO!? NO nonononono no Soobin I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you that.. thats not what is happening here. I just don’t want you to say that because you think you have to cause all of this happened and I’m really in my head right now because why in the fuck would you ever pick me over literally anyone else in the world? But I Donno if I can-“

“Wooahh woah Y/N slow down. Backtrack for a second, did you just say you’re in love with me?”

“Hmmm? Did I what now?” You panic freaking out in your head again ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU JUST SAID YOURE IN LOVE WITH HIM! FUCK ME!’

“Do you love me?”

‘I do. I mean yes of course I do but should I tell him that right now? Like what if I ruin all of this? Oh no… nooo don’t look at me like that with your stupid cute face and puppy dog eyes. I do really love him’ your heart is beating out of your chest at your decision.

“Yes I do.” You look up into his chocolate eyes and everything calms down. The warmth he radiates through them at this moment pushes you forward. “I’m in love with you, Choi Soobin” His plush bunny shaped lips part in subtle shock that you actually just told him you love him. “But you don’t have to say anything, it’s totally fine I get it if you don’t feel the same way. We can just pretend I didn’t say anything-“

Soobin cuts you off slamming his lips back to yours, not wanting you to finish that statement because it couldn’t be farther from the way he truly feels for you. He doesn’t like the flash of doubt that washes over your face while you diverted your eyes from his. When he feels you melt into him and reach for him he gently breaks from your lips.

“I’m in love with you Y/N”

“Wait-“

BANG BANG BANG

“THIS YOUR 5 MINUTE WARNING” The director shouts through the door

Panic takes over the both of you as you rush around trying to find your clothes and put yourselves back together… well somewhat anyways. Praying to god everyone would be oblivious to what happened between you two or at least act like they were. Your lipstick was smeared all over Soobin’s face and neck, purple splotches decorating the both of you. At least his could be hidden, you were struggling to get the stupid bunny suit back on.

“Here let me help” Soobin ironically does up the zipper he struggled with earlier. Running his fingers along your spine as you put your hair back up in the ponytail. Leaning in to whisper, knowing the staff could barge in any second, he tells you “I meant it. All of it.”

“Me to”

“Tonight, your place”

“Okay”

“I wanna-“

“We’re here” the door flies open as the whole filming crew comes in. Soobin steps in front of you, somewhat keeping you out of sight. You stay back on hoping they just leave you be, reaching for the robe you entered with. While tip toeing to the robe, something catches your eye on the floor. Picking it up you see it’s the Polaroid Soobin took between your legs. Laughing to yourself you pull on the robe and see a pen. You write a quick note on the back before you return to hide behind Soobin’s tall frame and slip the photo in his back pocket, leaving a little treat for later.

You pull the bunny ears off and pull up the hood on the robe in a last attempt to hide yourself. Reliving everything that happened just moments ago as you twirl the ears in your fingers.

“Y/N! Hey? You good?” The director snaps you out of your daydream.

“Hmm? Oh yea I’m good. I’m great” red flushing your cheeks, unable to hold it back

“Alright well you’re free to go. Again thank you so much for doing this!” He bows to you

“Yeah okay. I’ll ummm.. I’ll go”

The look on everyone's faces was pure confusion. Considering how you were earlier they thought you would rip into the director. But you’re oddly calm…

Before leaving you turn to Soobin and tell him to duck down, placing your bunny ears on top of his damp and messy hair. “There, right where they belong”

He whispers “tonight?” And you nod back repeating him “tonight” smiling before you turn to leave. Passing the still bowing director as you walk through the door.

Smiling to yourself the whole way back to your dressing room. Finally arriving you walk inside and close the door leaning on it before your release every giddy squeal you’ve been holding back.

“Tell me everything NOW!” You’re bestie all but screams after seeing you, scaring you half to death

“HOLY FUCK WARN A WOMAN WOULD YOU!? Fucking gave me a heart attack”

“Yea sorry whatever TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

“Where do I begin?”

“At the beginning obviously no detail to be spared! Now spill!!”

“Okay okay!” You laugh before you start reliving the past hour of your dreams.

Somewhere in another room …

“SooooOoOooOooo How was everyone’s shoot?” Beomgyu asks raising his eyebrows in the most immature childish way

“It was fine, awkward but fine” Kai says first

“Yea I mean this whole idea was ridiculous, I just hope - is okay. I hope she wasn’t too uncomfortable.” Taehyun adds in, scratching his temple in thought

“Yea I know right? They must have felt so vulnerable. They are hella courageous though, props to them.” Yeonjun proudly says.

“It would have been hilarious if it was male models though” Kai says laughing maniacally “can you imagine dudes in those tiny tiny costumes?”

They all laugh together except Soobin, who hasn’t heard a word of the conversation. Thinking about you and how you felt on his -

“Soobin you’re awfully quiet… what’s up man?” Yeonjun notices, breaking Soobin out of his thoughts.

“Hmmm? Nothing- no I’m- I’m good sorry”

“Who was your model by the way?” Beomgyu slides over to him, trying to get the information from him

“I’m not saying”

“Come ON! Let’s all just share who it was! Mine was -“ Beomgyu starts

“I already said who mine was” Taehyun reminds everyone

“I had -“ They all looked at Yeonjun confused, no idea who he was talking about “the new junior..”

“Ohhhh” realizing who she is

“- was really nice. Honestly I was probably more nervous than her” Kai fondly says

“Come on Soobin! Tell us who was in that bunny suit for you?”

Shaking his head he refuses to say your name

“Tell us” Beomgyu continues his taunt

“Tell us tell us tell us” the other 3 eventually join in as well

“OKAY FINE just shut up”

“Who was it?”

“Yeah I’m genuinely curious now” Yeonjun adds

“It was y/n” whispering your name so quietly it would barley be audible to a fly on the wall

“What? Who was it?”

“Y/N” saying your name only slightly louder, still inaudible to anyone

“Hmmm?”

“Y/N”

“OH FOR FUCK SAKES SOOBIN WHO WAS IT!?” Beomgyu yells at him frustrated.

“IT WAS Y/N! Y/N! THERE ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!?”

He yells back unable to control his temper with his junior

All eyes were the size of balloons, mouths hanging open, as if hearing the most shocking news of the century. Which, fair enough, when it came to Soobin’s gigantic crush on you, it was to them.

“What? So now you’re not gonna say anything?” Soobin snaps in irritation at them

“So how was it?” Taehyun breaks the silence first

“How do you think it was?” Soobin’s eyes squinting as he gets more irritated the more they ask about you. This needs to stop now because he can’t tell them what happened until you both talk. Tonight. At your place. Alone.

“Ouuu so it was bad?”

“No it was great, she’s a fucking goddess dressed in a bunny suit fulfilling my biggest fucking fantasy.” Sarcasm lacing his sharp words until he thinks about how perfect you looked and his voice softens “She looked.. fuck you know what I can’t talk about this.”

“It’s alright buddy we get it. Must of been brutal seeing her like that but not for the reason your really wanted” yeonjun comforts him

Little did they know he made that very fantasy real and it was more than he ever dreamed it could be

Turning to walk back to the set, Beomgyu sees something sticking out of Soobin’s back pocket. “Hey Soobin there’s something hanging-“ grabbing the photo from his back pocket, Beomgyu’s words die in his throat. The photo you so kindly left Soobin as a present.

Turning around in annoyance, Soobin sees Beomgyu holding a photo that has black writing on the back. Barely making out a ‘tonight’ and a little heart with an S next to it.

“What are you…” panic runs through Soobin’s body as he realizes that’s a photo and it’s probably the exact one he hopes it’s not, but judging by Beomgyu’s face, it’s exactly what he thinks it is “GIVE THAT TO ME NOW!” Just missing the photo as Beomgyu pulls its away from him

“You dirty perv, taking photos of your best friend like this without her knowing” Kai and Taehyun look over Beomgyu’s shoulder to look at it and Soobin dies a little more inside

“What is it? Let me see” Yeonjun walks over to see taking the photo from Beomgyu. “O-ohhh- oh um this is yours… there’s a note on the back btw” Yeonjun hands it to Soobin

“NOTE! What does it say!?”

“None of your fucking business that’s what!” Soobin snaps

“I literally just saw your picture of her pussy, tell us what it says or I tell her I saw it NOW!” Beomgyu wastes no time with his ultimatum

Soobin lets out the deepest breath and rubs his palms into his eyes in frustration. Pulling on his bangs and scrunching his face “FINE FUCK! Don’t tell her you seen this it’s literally they only thing she asked of me and I can’t belive I fucked up so quick! If she finds out I will kill you”

“Lips are sealed. Now what does it say?” Beomgyu puts on his happiest smile in Soobin’s mortification

Turning over the photo in his hand Soobin turns bright red as he reads what you’ve written

“Now you owe me one! 😉

See you tonight

❤️ -S

xo”

After wrapping for the day Soobin goes to immediately text you, wanting to see how you were and talk about tonight. “Where the fuck is my phone?” He looks around desperately, patting his pockets but coming up empty handed. “Has anyone seen my phone?” He asks the group

“No man sorry! Maybe it’s in the room?” Yeonjun suggests

‘Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk’ it hits Soobin that’s exactly where it is. Totally forgetting how all of this started. “Hmm maybe I’ll go check! Thanks Jun”

He calmly walks out the door and when he thinks it’s safe he sprints as fast as his long unathletic legs will carry him. Bursting through the door, he looks all over for the phone. Finding it face down on the floor next to the table. Flipping it over he sees ‘storage full’ indicating that it had indeed been filming everything.

Smiling like an idiot, he can’t help but think about what might have actually been captured between the both of you.

Opening his messages he finds your contact, sending your a quick message

“Can’t wait to see you later 🫶”

Three dots appear almost immediately and are then replace by your message

“I can’t wait to see you Binnie 🫶”

[potatoplace]

betty

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | So Long, London (part 3)

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: In the aftermath of your fall, your sisters stay by your side, comforting you as best they can. The Shadowsinger is lurking, hoping for a chance to apologize. Will you tell him to go fuck himself or take him as your mate once more?

Warnings: suicide mention, self harm, difficult birth, chronic pain (idk if I should tag that?), FUCK AZRIEL

Words: ~3.5k

Author's Note: So. This was supposed to be the HAPPY ending. And it kind of is. So. Yeah. I just couldn't think of a way to make it actually happy except in the way that I did. Because tbh Azriel fucked up TOO. HARD. There's honestly no way to fully come back from what he did... grrrrr. I hope you guys like it anyways, sorry that I can't deliver on some actual fluff to heal your hearts 💔 also the first bit before Feyre finds out about Reader is the same as in 'Gone'. And the final alternate ending will be out tomorrow!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Azriel quickly made his way back to Elain, doing his best to put the interaction he had just had with you behind him.

His mate.

Elain’s sister… That’s the only way he had ever thought of you.

As a human you had been… Less than average. Hard to look at.

At least in comparison to Elain.

Elain was a breath of fresh air, so lovely and innocent and so entirely unlike him.

And turned fae, she was even more breathtaking.

He had waited for her to realize how truly damaged and scarred he was, and not just on the outside. How entirely unworthy of her he was.

But she hadn’t. She had seen him, loved him, even with how broken he was on the inside.

And he had meant his words to Nesta, when he had said no one would ever compare to Elain, even his mate.

And he was right. You didn’t compare to her.

But as he reached her side and wrapped his arm around his lovely Elain, he couldn’t help but… wonder.

Had he just made a mistake in rejecting the bond so easily?

His free hand came to rub at his chest, which felt like it was being scraped with a knife, a dull, throbbing pain.

“Are you alright?” Elain’s sweet voice asked, and he tilted his head to look down at her.

“Of course, sweetheart. Join me for a dance?” He asked softly, leading her by the hand to the dance floor after she nodded, a beautiful smile gracing her lips.

The ring in his pocket, so dainty and light, felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

He had planned to propose to Elain tonight, present her with the beautiful ring that he had picked out just for her. But now, after your confession and the pain from a severed bond in his chest, it just didn’t feel like the time.

Only a minute into their dance, Feyre screamed in agony, all heads whipping to look at their High Lady.

“Feyre? What’s wrong?” Rhys asked, already holding Feyre in his arms.

She broke away from him a moment later, sprinting further into the House without any warning.

Rhys followed immediately after, running after his mate, and the rest of the inner circle followed quickly.

They found Feyre peering over a balcony, sobbing at whatever she saw before summoning her wings. In the next moment, Feyre was jumping over the edge, diving down towards the rocks below.

Just a few seconds later, she returned, a body clutched tightly to her chest-

You. His mate.

Feyre set you gently on the ground, her hands already glowing with healing powers. “Someone go get Madja. Now.”

Cassian took to the air as soon as she gave her command, flying in the direction of the healer’s home as the rest of them stood, watching Feyre work to heal your broken, battered body with mouths wide in disbelief.

Your other two sisters fell to the ground around you, careful not to touch you lest they cause any more damage.

“What… What happened?” Elain asked tearily. His soft, sweet Elain, tears already streaming down her face, sorrow matched by Nesta.

But Feyre… Feyre was sobbing as she worked to heal you, mending the vital organs that had been damaged in the fall.

Because you had fallen. Somehow, you had fallen over the edge of the balcony that would reach above your waist.

You were so small, so fragile.

The torn bond in his chest felt like a gaping wound, Truthteller twisting inside the muscle over and over and over as he looked at your dying body, the reality of the situation hitting him all at once.

You are his mate! He had rejected his mate!

Cassian returned with Madja in record time, who immediately set to healing the bones that were shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Everyone besides the sisters should leave now, I need to focus,” Madja said sharply, leveling a glare at Azriel himself.

He had been softly sobbing, tears cascading down his face without him even realizing.

Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Amren all turned their eyes to Azriel, confused at the level of grief he was displaying, nearly level with your sisters.

Quickly, Azriel turned and left the balcony, making his way to another abandoned one, taking to the skies a moment later. He hoped the cold air would clear his thoughts, rid him of this feeling of regret he was holding now, after seeing you nearly dead.

But still, his heart ached with the need to see you, the need for the bond to be whole and healed again, to give it a chance.

Because now, he could see that he had made a mistake. Now that you had nearly left him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t thought would ever happen.

Elain… Elain would be sad, of course. And he would miss her truly… It was a shame you were sisters, or he may have been able to figure out a world in which he could have the both of you to love him.

Most likely, Elain wouldn’t want a relationship with her sister’s mate, either. It would be… Cruel of them to continue on, with you still around them.

He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized that the moment you had confessed.

But there was no changing that. There was only the path forward, and that was for him to find some way to repair the bond between you, and do whatever he needed to win his mate to his side

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The first time you woke, it was to blinding pain in every inch, every cell of your body.

Without opening your eyes, your body wrenched itself to the side to wretch up whatever remained in your stomach, the movement sending more stabs of pain through you.

You weren’t awake for more than a minute before you succumbed to the pain, falling into blissful nothingness.

The second time you woke, you could hear muffled words, sounding like they were passing through several layers of cotton stuffed into your ears.

The voices sounded like your sisters, arguing in hushed voices.

Probably about what a failure you were, not even able to take your own life, even by jumping from-

A balcony.

Azriel.

Your mate.

The pain of your body was nothing to the renewed agony of the severed bond, ripped so suddenly after finally being recognized by your mate.

A scream left your lips without a thought, and your hands attempted to raise up to your chest, to attempt to soothe the pain ravaging you so thoroughly.

But they were stopped, held down by gentle hands, and two more cupped at your face, the kindness in them reminding you of only one person-

Twin.

Your eyes cracked open the slightest bit, the connection between you and Feyre giving you just enough to meet her pretty blue eyes with your dull brown ones.

“Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre said softly, the words echoed into your mind so that you could actually hear her. “Try to stay still, sissy. We healed you as much as we could but you could still reinsure your muscles. Just stay still, I’ll get you more pain potions.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes. “Bond. Hurts,” you managed to whisper to her mentally, and her eyes widened.

One of her hands left your face, the other one curling around to lift your head and tilt a potion into your mouth, the liquid bitter but instantly easing the physical aches within you, tiredness sweeping over your senses and pulling you under.

But you could still feel the pain in your heart.

The third time you woke, the pain in your body was only a dull ache, but your hands shot up to rub at the ache in your chest.

No hands stopped you this time, but you heard three soft gasps as you moved, and after a moment you let your eyes flutter open, squeezing shut after seeing how bright it was.

“Oh, shoot,” Elain’s soft voice said, and you hear her soft footsteps and the swish of fabric before she returned. “It’s darker in here now, you should be more comfortable.”

You let your eyes open again, pleased to see there was only the dim glow of the fireplace and a few candles dotted about the room.

After a moment, you recognized that you were in the room that had been set aside for you in the River House, laying on the plush bed with your sisters huddled around it on chairs.

“What…” You started, but found yourself coughing, your dry, sore throat protesting the action. Feyre quickly offered you a glass of water, helping to raise your head and tilting the glass to spill the cool liquid down your throat.

Once you had had your fill, she set the glass back down on your bedside table, then helped you sit up against the headboard. She fussed with the pillows, making sure that you were only laying against the plush padding, then tugged the blanket up to cover your chest and shoulders.

Feyre was sniffling softly as she looked at you, her eyes gleaming with unshod tears, but her face was puffy and red so you knew she had been crying recently.

“What happened?” You asked quietly.

How did I survive?

“I- I felt you go unconscious, through our mental link. And I- I found you on-” Feyre’s voice was cut off by a sob.

Nesta sighed, to your left. But it wasn’t an angry sigh, like you were used to. Your head turned to look at her, seeing tears on her own face as well.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen her cry.

“She could you at the rocks below the House of Wind,” Nesta explained, her hands sneaking under the blanket and taking your left one in them, her thumbs rubbing over the back of it in a comforting manner. “You were… You were nearly gone, when we found you.”

“She and Madja saved you, but they said you might have some… Residual pain, because of the amount of damage,” Elain said softly, her own hands resting on top of the blanket over your right hand.

You blinked at the three of them, lost for words.

The pain in your chest flared again, reminding you of exactly why you were in this situation.

“I… I’m sorry for worrying you…” You whispered, guilt overtaking you as your right hand came to rub at your heart, attempting to soothe its pain, as futile as it was.

“Why are you sorry?” Nesta asked sharply, and you flinched. “I- I just meant that you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s Azriel who should be apologizing, and to you.”

Tears flooded your eyes at the mere mention of his name, and Feyre’s fingers wiped them away with a soft cloth with so much care that you began to sob.

“Oh, sissy, I’m sorry,” Feyre said, and climbed into the bed next to you, her body curling into yours like it did for so many years in that cold, run down cottage. “I’m so, so sorry,” she cooed as she rocked your body gently, joined to her back by Elain and Nesta to your left. “For what it’s worth, he realized what an… Error… He made,” Feyre said softly, but it only made you cry more.

That meant that he had hurt Elain, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. I don’t…” Elain paused, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to be with my sister’s mate, especially not… Not with the circumstances. He won’t tell us exactly what happened, just that… He rejected the bond quickly, and is now searching for a way to heal it.”

Your sobs quieted at that information, your mind confused.

“What?”

“Azriel is… Attempting to make amends with you,” Nesta said, clearly angry with just the suggestion. “Though what he thinks he can do to fix it, I don’t know.”

Elain sighed. “Really, I’m sorry Y/N. If I had known he was your mate… I never would have accepted his advances.”

“It’s okay, ‘Lain. I… I should have told him sooner, given him… An actual choice, not sprung it on him last night.”

“Starfall was a week ago, Y/N. He’s been stalking your room since we brought you here, his shadows are practically coating the door at all times. Feyre hasn’t let them in, though,” Nesta explained.

Your brow furrowed. A week? You had been out for a week?

“You needed the time to heal as much as you could. You woke up a couple of times, but it never lasted for long, your were in too much pain,” Feyre said softly, one of her hands running though your hair.

“Can… Is he… Is he waiting now?” You asked quietly, though you weren’t sure which answer you were hoping for.

Your sisters exchanged weary glances, but Elain was the one who nodded in confirmation.

“Would I be able to speak with him?”

Nesta sighed and squeezed your hand tightly. “Are you sure? I could go roast him alive instead? Save you the trouble of taking him out?”

Despite the pain still throbbing in your heart, your lips curled up at her suggestion. “No, I’ll be… Fine, Nes. I just… Need to do this.”

“Okay, we’ll tell him that he can come in. Would you like any of us to stay?” Elain asked, her eyes soft and worried.

You shook you head. “No, I think it would be better for us to talk alone.”

“If you need us, or to have him leave, just reach out for me, okay sissy?” Feyre suggested, giving you one last squeeze before she slipped from the bed.

“I will, FeyFey,” you said, giving her a soft smile in an attempt to reassure her that you were fine.

Nesta opened the door to your bedroom, shadows instantly flooding inside as she did. You could spot Azriel’s massive frame in the doorway, his wings drooped to the ground.

You heard Nesta hiss something at him, too quietly for you to hear, but the way his wings fell further and his accepting nod came across, you were certain that she had threatened to cut off important body parts if you ended up even more hurt.

Azriel entered the bedroom, his eyes cast to the ground as he stood in the center of the room. Elain left next, avoiding looking at Azriel as she did. Feyre was the last to go, leveling Azriel with a deathly cold stare. You knew that she was the most shaken up by the experience- you and your twin had always had a strong connection, almost like you could read each other’s minds, even before Feyre obtained the magic to actually do so.

She turned in the doorway, her eyes locking with yours. You smiled slightly and nodded at her.

You would be fine.

It’s not like there’s any way Azriel can hurt you more, what with the bond already destroyed in your chest.

The door snicked shut behind her, though you could still hear their heartbeats lingering in the hallway outside, ready to step in if they heard anything concerning.

“So…” You started, once the two of you had been in silence for a few minutes.

“So… I… I wanted to apologize, Y/N. I wish I could take back my cruel words, and undo the rejection of the bond. I don’t know what I was thinking, moving so quickly,” Azriel said, his voice the saddest that you had ever heard it.

Still, you didn’t say anything.

“I am so, so sorry Y/N. I want to take away your pain, I want to do anything that I can to help you. You are my mate and I have done so much wrong by you. Please, Y/N. Please give me another chance,” he begged.

And it broke you.

Your arms came out from under the blanket without you meaning to, reaching for him-

Your mate.

Your mate who was begging for your forgiveness.

Begging for you.

The broken bond in your chest ached even as his hands met yours, grasping them tightly as he kneeled on the bed before you, tears in his eyes.

“Please, let me try everything I can to repair the bond. Let me earn your trust and love, Y/N.”

You sighed and bit your lip, considering his words, the conviction with which he said them.

“Is… Is there a way to fix the bond?” You asked tentatively, squeezing his hands gently.

“There are ways, yes. They require multiple detailed rituals under the separate phases of the moon, with a priestess’s help. I… I’ve already had a priestess practice the rituals, in case you were to say yes. Of course, we’ll only start when you’re ready.”

You nodded slowly.

You could have your mate.

If you wanted.

“When can we start?”

💙🤍💙🤍💙

A month later, you and Azriel had completed the four rituals required to repair the mating bond.

The priestess had warned you that the bond would likely feel slightly hollow, not quite as strong as they normally do once accepted.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you baked a blackberry cheesecake for your mating ceremony with Azriel- it was the first dessert the two of you had shared in your very first date, while you were still on bed rest after your…

Accident.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you lifted a bite of the cheesecake to Azriel’s mouth as your family watched on, clapping and congratulating the two of you quickly before they winnowed out of the Town House, which Rhys and Feyre had gifted to the two of you.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care once the mating frenzy had subsided, laying in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, hand clutching at your heart.

Phantoms pains still rang through you every day, rattling your bones. The bond was there, yes, but it had been killed and brought back to life, reanimated in your chest and torturing you in life.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you slid Truthteller across your thigh in the middle of the night while Azriel slept in the next room, needing to feel a pain that was real to distract you from how much you didn’t care that the bond wasn’t whole.

You told yourself that you didn’t care that Azriel wanted you for the bond, and likely the bond alone.

The moments that made you not care were the ones where Azriel’s attentions made the bond flare to life in you, imitating the wholeness that you could have once had.

His soft kisses on your lips and sweet nothings whispered in your ears, gentle scarred hands caressing your own scars, trying to erase every pain that he had caused you.

You swore that you didn’t care as you saw his eyes linger on Elain at family dinners, convinced yourself that you didn’t see longing and lust in his hazel eyes as he took in your elder sister, finally attempting to fulfill her own bond with Lucien.

You did the same as his eyes lingered on every pretty female you passed on your walks through Velaris, wishing that he would look at you with the same heated looks he did for them.

Even as you grew with child, you promised to yourself that you didn’t care that the bond felt like it was dying in your chest, draining you of your energy.

All you had ever wanted was to have a husband and a baby, someone who would love you forever, and a sweet child to raise, to shield from the cruelty of the world.

And of course, you told yourself that you didn’t care when he came home smelling of another female, his clothes slightly out of place and hair tousled while you were on bed rest, the lingering pain from your attempt making you unable to walk on your own.

Azriel was with you during labor, and the bond between the two of you shined the brightest then, with your hand squeezing his, nearly to the point of breaking bones, as you pushed and pushed and pushed, finally rewarded with your beautiful baby girl-

The absolute copy of her father, stunning hazel eyes, thick and curly dark hair, and tiny, fluttering wings on her back.

The labor took so much out of you, the wings having torn your body open, but finally, after hours of healing from Feyre and Madja, you were given the absolute joy of holding your firstborn.

You beamed down at her, enraptured by how sweet and precious and perfect she was, her little fingers curling around one of yours.

So small. So delicate.

You knew that you would protect her with your life, with everything you had. You would never let anyone hurt her, never let anyone compare her to those around her. She would be safe, and loved, and love herself like you had never had the chance to.

So you told yourself that you didn’t care, because she was worth it.

She was worth everything.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222

[erodasfishtacos]

Digging A Deeper Hole || MLB ||

Prompt: Harry is going through a rough adjustment to his new life. At twenty-one, he was the face of a massive franchise, a father, and a husband with millions watching his every mood. He starts to feel it. Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Angst - please keep in mind H is young here so he’s a bit more immature than one shots where he’s older. He’s still figuring stuff out

AUTHORS NOTES:

There is 5 more part to this up on patreon (17k words, a 25.1k fic overall)

I upload a piece of writing every 1-3 days (usually two) consistently// currently updating abo!roommates

All writings are accurately and always added to the organized folders in the collections feature

There are currently 300 + pieces available to read

It only cost $3USD —— thanks for any support and check me out here!

========================= Harry had the weight on the world on his shoulders.

The past year had been the best but most stressful time that he has ever had in his life.

He hadn’t had a break, it was go, go, go.

At the age of twenty-one, it felt like he had responsibilities that most people never had this amount of.

He had expectations from every side, especially from work, though it sounded like a dream to be the new face of Major League Baseball, to be the highest paid rookie to start, or the fact that he was a projected to be one of the best players of all time.

It came at a cost.

A really fucking big cost.

It took Harry a while to realize that he was experiencing some depression, the pressure of his coaches, the team, the public, and on top of that, he was navigating being newly married with a baby.

++

”Styles, get off the phone!” His assistant coach shouted from the field, he should be jogging onto the mound because practice was nearly over, and everyone was ready to head back to the hotels.

“Hold the fuck on!” Harry shouts back without looking up, waiting for the FaceTime call to connect, he had thought he had more time before they started up again.

Harry’s heart leaps when it connects, his perfect baby in the camera view, blowing raspberries between chewing on teether that looked like car keys, “Say ‘hi’ to your daddy!”

Easton is too little to quite comprehend the phone but he blinks in confusion at the screen before blowing another wet raspberry towards his father.

”Hi East, look at how handsome you look,” Harry croons, trying to memorize every little feature because he’s only going to be this small for a little while, “Your daddy misses you so much.”

YN pulls the phone to her face for a moment, “I took him on a walk around Central Park earlier today and he saw a group of pigeons. He squealed so loudly that they all flew away in a flock and he started giggling. I wish I would have gotten it on video.”

”He really does love the pigeons-“ Harry begins but is cut off.

”Styles, final warning. Get off your phone or I’m locking it up! Now,” The other coach yells, starting to actually get pissed, and Harry has to resist the urge to flip them off.

”H,” YN says knowingly, it was pretty common that he was getting yelled at, “Go practice.”

“I want to be home with you,” Harry frowns, he truly means it.

”I know,” YN agrees with kind understanding on her face, “Go kick some ass for us.”

++

He didn’t get to spend the time he wanted at home with his family, the away games caused him to panic, and he was starting to have anxiety attacks as he steps onto the private jet.

Harry was blowing YN’s phone up at any free moment he got, asking to FaceTime to see her and Easton, and YN had noticed how much more he was asking for reassurance, it was frequent.

++

”He’s sleepy. He just fed for almost an hour,” YN murmurs, tired herself and her eyes were heavy, it was undeniable that she had a lot on her plate with taking care of Easton by herself.

YN did see Anne once or twice a week but she was adamant that she did not need help raising her own baby, that she was fully capable of taking care of Easton by herself when Harry wasn’t home.

Easton was ten-months at this point, splayed on his mother’s chest with a milk-drunk little smile as he laid his small fist on her neck, easily starting to drift to sleep.

Harry feels a pang of disgusting, gnarly guilt and disappointment that he’s not there to lay in bed with them, and he felt like a piece of shit for sitting in this swanky hotel room by himself.

”Harry?” YN asks after he doesn’t respond, he was just watching the screen as his wife ran her fingers through Easton’s soft baby curls, silky smooth.

Harry swallows harshly to avoid the tears prickling, “I love you so much. You know that?”

YN smiles at him, soft and warm, “We love you so much. We miss you and cannot wait for you to get home. We both want so many cuddles with you.”

Harry’s jaw clenches, scrunching his nose, and feel the pit in his stomach get deeper, darker, rawer, and it felt overwhelming as he sat alone with his family on the other side of the country.

It felt suffocating that he wanted to go home but he couldn’t because he had a contract, a job, he had to provide, and he worked his whole life to be where he’s at.

He’s in a position that billions would want to be in but all he can think about is being with his family, he would give up everything he’d ever accomplished to cuddle with them every night.

But he couldn’t, deep down, he knew that it was his emotions getting the best of him, and it’s disappointing that he’s not enjoying baseball like he thought he would right now.

“I…I’m sorry,” Harry sniffles, rubbing his eye roughly to catch the tears before they fall any further.

YN’s smile falls which makes him feel even worse, “Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you apologizing?”

”I’m not there to help you,” Harry presses his face into his forearm to try to stop the tears, “I’m just sittin’ here in a hotel room, I’m fuckin’ useless to you.”

”Hey,” YN says firmly, lips going into a straight line, “Harry, you are not useless. How could you think that? You’re providing for us. You make it possible for me to stay at home, in this beautiful home, with everything we’d ever need, and spend every moment with Easton. That’s because of you.”

It makes Harry feel a bit better, that perspective on the situation because he hadn’t looked at it like that, “I’ll always provide for you two.”

”You’re the best provider. We love you so much. We are so proud of you. Easton is going to be so so proud of his daddy and what a good man you are to us,” YN tells him confidently, thter’s no wavering in her voice as she watches Harry’s reaction.

Harry hangs his head, done trying to stop the tears, he didn’t feel good.

He had felt depression a few times in his life, the most when he was going through his struggles with his sexuality, and it was starting to feel like that again.

”Harry,” YN’s voice is soft, careful, “Are you okay, baby? What made you so upset?”

Harry wipes his face with the back of his hand, he didn’t want to worry YN.

She had so much on her plate right now that the last thing she needed to worry about was his mental health because he needed to pull it together and stop being so emotional.

”I just miss you,” Harry tells her, it wasn’t a lie but it really wasn’t the full truth, there was so much more to it than what he was letting on but he could handle it on his own.

Lord knows he had enough time while he was sitting in this hotel room alone or had a flight on the private jet.

++

Harry felt like a car ran him over, twice, and then backed up over him.

He did as good as everyone expected him to do during the games in San Diego, he won all three of the games with too many strikeouts to count, and two home runs to get them scores.

Harry was able to shut his mind off during the games, all he was thinking about was his job, and what he needed to do to make sure that they won the games - that was it.

Afterwards, the creeping feelings that had been haunting him especially hard this past month or so wouldn’t wait very long to pop up again after the games.

He started demanding a flight home the night of the last game, everyone else always waited until the next day because traveling right after playing was near torture with the exhaustion.

Harry felt like death as he landed in New York City, his bones were heavy as if they weighed a thousand pounds each, his arm was sore from how many pitches he had to throw, and he hadn’t been sleeping well when he was away from YN and the baby.

His heart was a bit lighter as he opened the front door to their home, the smell of his favorite brownies hitting his nose, and a peel of bubbly, angelic baby giggles echoed through the hallway.

Harry needed to see them, he dropped his bag and didn’t care that his cologne bottle most likely just shattered inside because of how careless he was being.

No, he was making his way toward the smell and sounds, and when he found what he waas looking for - his stomach untwisted just the slightest and everything didn’t seem so bleak for a moment.

YN turns around, having been alerted to his entrance by his bag dropping, Easton was on her hip and had a spatula in his hand, gnawing on it happily.

”Who is that, East?” YN bounces him up and down, “Is that your daddy?”

Harry wants to cry tears of relief when Easton drops the spatula, letting it clatter onto the tile, and starts to cry.

He was the cutest little thing.

Whenever Harry got home from work, Easton would start to cry because he wanted him, and was sad like he just realized that he had been missing him all day and he was finally home with him.

”Oh my goodness,” YN hums as Easton wiggles, starting to reach out for him with grabbing hands, dramatic tears running down his face as his pouty bottom lip wobbles.

”No tears, bub,” Harry coos as he steps forward, taking Easton out of her arms, and giving him the biggest hug he can manage as he presses kisses to the side of his face, his hair, his nose, “I missed you so much. I hate being away from you, East, miss you every moment.”

YN is watching with a content smile, patiently waiting her turn as he blinks over at her, his voice still soft and raspy, “Hi mama.”

”Hi H,” YN whispers back, stepping forward to cup his jaw and bring their lips together in a kiss, her thumb rubbing the stubble of his jawline and her other squeezing his hip, “I missed you.”

Harry hates that he feels the lump in his throat, “I fuckin’ missed you so much. I can’t explain how much I hate being away from you and him. I am so grateful that you’re so good to me and East. You know that?”

One of YN’s love languages was definitely words of affirmation so to hear such nice compliments really did mean a lot to her because she didn’t always feel the most secure either.

It was a lot to have her husband traveling all the time, where if he wanted, there would be unlimited opportunities for him to make bad choices because there was not a shortage of men and women who would bed him without a second thought.

YN had complete and utter trust in him.

It wasn’t ever a real concern but when Harry was as gorgeous as he was, it was hard not to feel a bit of insecurity when people often let it be known how much they found him attractive.

”Thank you, H,” YN brings him in for another kiss, “Dinner is almost ready. Brownies are also baking in the oven. Easton was my little helper but was trying to get his chunky fingers in the raw batter which he had an attitude about when I told him ‘no’.”

”You better listen to your mama,” Harry hums at his son, munching at his neck until Easton is giggling and pulling at his curls to keep him close, he loved his father so much, “Be nice to mama, Easton Robin.”

YN reaches forward, “Go get a shower. Settle in a little bit.”

Harry passes Easton back but frowns, “Darling, I can take him and manage. You have had him for the last week.”

YN waves him off, “I got him for a few minutes longer. Get showered, dressed, then we can eat dinner, and cuddle. Okay?”

”Sounds like a dream,” Harry replies because it really does, all that he wants is to be able to hold them in his arms, and start filling this hole that starts to eat away at him every time he has to leave.`

++

After Harry showers, he tugs on his briefs, and sits on the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t know how he fell asleep like that but it seemed to happen nearly as soon as he plopped down on the plush of their bed because he hadn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours, after an exhausting game and seven hours of travel.

The next time he wakes up, it’s completely dark in the bedroom, and he blinks his eyes open to see the alarm clock reading that it was three in the morning.

YN was fast asleep on her side of the bed, baby monitor on the side table, and Easton was sleeping in his nursery on his back with a binky halfway out of his mouth.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, putting his fists to them for a moment as he grits his teeth, “Fuck fuck fuck.”

He gets out of bed, not wanting to disturb YN, she looked so fucking pretty while she slept and Harry was in disbelief of what a fucking idiot he was.

YN not only watched Easton for the past week, she managed everything else for their household, made Harry dinner and dessert, all for him to fall asleep.

She needs a break from the baby, YN should have gotten one last night after all her hard work, and Harry just went and fell asleep like a bloody teenager with no responsibilities.

He grabs the baby monitor so that YN won’t be woken up, hoping that she will sleep in for as long as possible in the morning, and Harry can take on baby duties.

Harry’s plan was to clean the house, the least he could do as an apology but everything was near spotless thanks to his wife, and when he went into the kitchen to clean the dishes from dinner.

There were none, YN had put all the leftovers away, wrapped the brownies, and cleaned all the pots and pans - as well as all of Easton’s bottles.

”Fuck me,” Harry grunts as he resists the urge to hit something, instead slamming his fists on the countertop, and staring at nothing as he feels the deep hole become bigger, “Such a fuck-up.”

Harry doesn’t even know what he can do to repay her, to make it up to her, and the mixture of his anxiety and depression had to be the gnarliest combination because they were kicking his ass.

His anxiety starts taking over and an intrusive thought starts to pop into his brain and he can’t shake it.

What if she leaves you?

What if she doesn’t think you’re a good enough father?

She does all this for you and you treat her like shit the moment you come home?

You don’t deserve her.

Harry’s throat tightens up, it feels hard to breathe for a few minutes as he tries taking slow, deep inhales before repeating the process to help try to regulate his breathing.

He had to make this up to her.

++

Harry manages Easton by himself, that wasn’t an issue, and he was even able to run out to grab YN’s favorite donuts from a few blocks down before she was up.

Harry was currently in the living room, laying on the floor with Easton as he played with these soft, big blocks, and smiled at his father with only two little teeth showing on his bottom gums.

”Morning, well afternoon,” YN laughs as she looks at the clock on the wall, it was nearly twelve and she was able to catch up on all the sleep she desperately needs, “You didn’t need to let me sleep for that long, H. I appreciate it though, felt super nice to be able to get re-energized.”

”It’s the least I could do,” Harry replies, the enthusiasm that was usually in his voice was missing, and he struggled to meet her eye because he was embarassed.

YN knows something is off as she sits down next to them, scooping Easton up and tucking him under her big shirt where he can excitedly start to nurse - he very begrudgingly used a bottle but it was always a bit more difficult to get him to eat with one.

”Are you sure you’re okay?” YN frowns as she rubs his knee, “You seem down. Did something happen?”

”I’m a piece of shit,” Harry chuckles without humor, throwing his hands up, “Isn’t it obvious? I leave you at home with the baby and then the minute I get home, I fall asleep and don’t do shit to help you. On top of that, you made dinner and I didn’t even eat it.”

YN’s frown turns into more of a scowl, “Harry, what has you talking like this? Did someone say something to you? I don’t like when you talk like that. You were exhausted! You were just away for a week, training and playing, and have so much other than that going on. Do you really think that I’m mad about that?”

“I’m mad about how I acted because it effects you,” Harry grits back, his anxiety and depression had a tendency to make him cranky in a way that he normally wouldn’t be, “It’s no excuse. You get no excuses. I need to do better.”

”You need to stop talking like that,” YN retorts as she stares back at him with a twitch of her brow, “Everything is fine. We are fine. Nothing is wrong. This is how our life looks sometimes and that’s okay. You are doing this to take care of us.”

“It feels pretty fuckin’ selfish right now,” Harry shakes his head, standing up and trying to hide the wince from how achey his muscles were, he should do a cold plunge but he’s not going to take anymore time for himself - he dosn’t deserve it.

“How is it selfish?” YN is getting frustrated, her leg shaking slightly but then she stops when she realizes that it’s jostling Easton and he whines in displeasure.

”I get to get a full night’s sleep in a luxury hotel room, you’re here.”

YN scoffs, licking over her teeth, “Yeah, Harry. It’s a massive hardship, living in a three million dollar home in the middle of the Upper East Side. I think I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the fuckin’ point,” Harry cracks his neck, his anxiety made his heart rate feel like he was constantly running a marathon, it was hard for him to keep his composure.

”Don’t talk to me like that,” YN raises her voice, moving to get up with Easton still suckling away, “This isn’t how you show appreciation, Harry. I’m just trying to have a conversation and you have an attitude.”

Harry knows that he’s just going to continue to dig himself a deeper pit than he’s already in if he keeps talking.

Most of the time, he did not feel like like a twenty-one year old despite his boyish looks but right now, he felt like he was acting his age and it wasn’t a good thing.

”Why don’t you take Easton and see your mom today,” YN offers, her voice is still tight but trying to keep it cordial as she brings Easton out from under her shirt.

He was blinking languidly, his lips smacking in satisfaction as his belly was full, and YN hands him over to Harry to take, “Yeah, I’ll get him ready and go.”

It was a good opportunity to give YN a break but he was honestly a bit surprised that she took him up on it or that she didn’t want to come with because when Harry came home, they tried to stay together as much as possible.

He does know that he’s acting like a complete dickhead which makes sense why she wasn’t dying to spend time with him right night, still it was just odd because it’s unlike her.

”Sounds good,” YN pulls out her phone, looking down and fingers flitting across the screen which was also a bit odd, how she was a distracted by it because it was unlike her just like her letting him go alone.

God, Harry was making a fucking mess, wasn’t he? +++++++++++++++++

It stuck out like a sore thumb when Harry was off.

Normally, he was the most easy-going, bubbly, funny person who stole most of the attention when he wasn’t even trying.

It was how he captured everyone’s interest whether it was his big grin that had his dimples showing deep in the pockets of his cheeks, the way he threw his head back and let out these low raspy chuckles, or just how he nodded attentively when someone else was talking.

So when he wasn’t feeling like himself, all those things that lit up rooms disappeared, and it was hard for him to socialize.

Harry was still beating himself up the entire ride outside of the city to his mother’s house, Easton was napping in the back and this would be a nice sleep before the excitement of Nana’s house.

Harry was replaying everything with YN, from the way he was sharp with her to get short with her when she did absolutely nothing to deserve that from him because she was so fucking good to him - all the time.

YN never complained about anything.

She never complained about being at home with the baby alone.

YN never tied to guilt Harry because he was away during the season so much.

It makes it so much worse that he’s not able to hold his shit together even just for YN, he didn’t want her to worry about his mental health, that’s the last thing she needed on her plate.

He was going to figure this out himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like he couldn’t talk to her, it was more that he knew she cares so much that it might upset her or make her worry when he’s on the road, all he wants for her is to focus on Easton and herself.

Harry normally loves going up to his mom’s, a little lake house that he had bought her with one of his first paychecks, despite how much she huffed and puffed, he knew that it was a dream of hers to live on the water.

It was the least he could do after she did so much to make his dreams come true.

However, despite Harry getting a decent amount of sleep, he felt bone tired and just drained was the best way to explain it - he felt like all the energy that he normally feels has been sucked clean out of him.

He wanted to turn the car around, go home, crawl into bed with YN and Easton, and not have to interact with anyone else for at least a week but that wasn’t possible with his schedule.

Harry should be enjoying his time right now.

They have an off week which meant that he had nearly two and a half weeks at home because the following week were games at their home stadium so he could be home every night.

Harry just couldn’t wait for this season to be over.

And that thought alone alarmed him because he fucking loved baseball, he loved being the best of the best, he loved all the recognition he got but right now his desire was lower than it’s been in a really long time.

When he pulls down the long driveway, a house sat back off the residential road where she had neighbors but there was a good amount of distance between the them to give privacy and seclusion.

He sees that there are multiple cars in the driveway which makes Harry groan because he didn’t realize that his mom was going to call over friends and family since he was coming to visit.

Anne did that sometimes, when Harry called saying that he’d be up, she would call aunts, uncles, relatives, and close friends to come for a barbecue, and it was the last thing he wanted right now.

He was already a bit peeved that his mother didn’t ask him first because he would have very clearly told her that he wasn’t in the mood to entertain people, to answer questions, and talk about baseball for a good five hours.

When Harry opens the back door, Easton’s already awake and smiling at his father with a gummy smile, his two bottom baby teeth made him look so adorable but he knew that more were going to popping through soon.

”Hi, sweetheart,” Harry hums softly as he unbuckles his baby, bringing him up into his arms and into a hug, kissing his temple, “I love you so much, you know that? M’only away so that you have everythin’ you’d ever want. Miss you every second-“

A smack comes heartily on his back, right on his throwing shoulder where the soreness is radiating like a motherfucker, and he has to grit his teeth to not curse and startle Easton.

”Buddy, how much did this ride cost ya?” His Uncle Chuck, his mom’s brother asks obnoxiously, “Saw these things were going for a hundred and some change?”

Harry takes a deep breath, his patience was wearing thin, and he had barely made it out of the car, “I don’t remember how much it cost.”

“That’s what being rich gets you, huh? Twenty-one with a fat bank account and no responsibilities. I would have loved to have a life like yours,” Chuck chortles as he leans up against said expensive SUV, beer in his hand.

“I have plenty of fuckin’ responsibilities,” Harry bites back, scolding himself for cursing in from of Easton, even if he was too young to understand, he tried not to make it a habit.

“Sure you do, bud,” His uncle laughs, clearly not catching onto Harry’s mood, “Last thing I’d want is a baby with everything that you have going on. Growing up too fast.”

“Luckily, it’s not your life,” Harry brushes him off, picking up Easton’s diaper bag on his free shoulder and hikes him up, “We’ll be in soon. Give us a minute.”

His uncle shrugs before staggering off, a drunken sway in his step as he stumbles back towards the house.

Harry buries his nose in Easton’s downy, fresh smelling wispy curls to steady his breathing, he feels a bit emotional as he talks to his son.

“M’sorry, East. Daddy doesn’t feel good right now,” Harry swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut, “I just have to pull it together. God, I love you. My baby.”

Harry gives himself another minute of grounding before taking a deep exhale and shutting the door, walking towards the house.

Everyone was on the back patio, sipping on drinks, and cheering when they saw him.

Dread settles heavy in Harry’s stomach as his family members as they start asking him about his games, wanting to recap every play he’s made, his sponsorships and his much he’s getting paid.

Harry’s trying to keep up the conversation but all he can think about is how much he didn’t want to be there, and he should have just taken Easton to the park or something more low-key.

When he bumps into his mom in the kitchen, Anne is prepping a salad and smiles back at her son - unaware of his mood.

“Isn’t this fun, hun?” Anne asks happily, sprinkling in some spices as she hums.

“Why couldn’t it have just been us? I have to be around people all the time and I thought it was just going to be you. Now I have to entertain all of them,” Harry’s tone definitely takes her aback as she puts down the tongs she was using.

“Usually you love when everyone’s here, I don’t understand,” Anne’s smile drops, wiping her hands on the dishrag.

“Does anybody ever consider that I don’t love talking about baseball every second of the day or how much money is in my bank account?” Harry’s tone is venomous and resentful, unfairly harsh on his mom when she hadn’t tried to upset him.

“Harr-“ Anne begins to apologize, albeit, a bit confused.

“Easton’s almost ready for a nap,” He cuts her off as he checks his watch, it didn’t really matter what time it was, he was done.

“My bedroom-“

“No, I’m going home,” Harry shakes his head, turning on his heel. He has the decency to look back and say, “Sorry, mom. I just can’t be here.”

Easton was currently being held by his Aunt Jane, he was starting to fuss because he had a bottle not too long ago and he was starting to get cranky.

“Alright, we’re going to head out. East needs his nap,” Harry announces, hiking on the diaper bag, and starting to walk over.

“Oh, we barely see him! Just a few more minutes with this little one. You can hold off his nap for a little!” His Aunt Jane jokingly holds him tighter for a minute and nothing right now is funny to Harry.

Harry doesn’t get loud but his voice gets steely as he reaches down and scoops Easton up from her lap, “Don’t tell me how to take care of my baby, understood?”

His poor aunt is taken aback, just like his mom, and nods.

Harry storms out without another glance back, ignoring the whispers about how odd he was acting and rude.

When he straps Easton in, the dark bubble in belly subsides for a moment- like sun breaking through storm clouds.

“Daaa,” Easton coos, happy but tired, tucking his binky back between his lips.

“Good job, baby,” Harry sniffles, blinking up towards the sky to keep the tears away, “Fuck, get it together.”

Harry had to pepper at least ten kisses on Easton’s warm, sleepy face before he’s able to close the door and get in the driver’s seat.

Harry presses on the console touch screen, calling YN, and he frowns when it goes straight to voicemail which was very unlike her.

He tries again.

Voicemail.

He pulls out his phone, trying to check her location, and it hasn’t updated in the past hour - it was just unusual for her phone to die, always on standby but he tries not to worry.

YN was probably still very pissed off at him, if he was to bet, she put her phone on ‘do not disturb’ so that she could take a well deserved nap and not be bothered.

Harry squeezes the steering wheel, reminding himself once again, “Pull yourself together.”

But in the back of his mind, an anxious thought pops in, well multiple.

What is YN is leaving you?

What if she’s sick of not having you around as much as other wives have their husbands?

First time you see her in a week and you treat her like shit. You really think she’ll stay?

Harry has never once thought like that, even when they’ve gotten in serious fights but god damn, he couldn’t stop his mind from going a million miles a minute, and it felt like shit.

Nothing was wrong.

Everything felt like it’s crumbling.

[candyskiez]

thinks about teru again. he’s so funny and tragic to me. like. ok so he got targeted by a psychic terrorist organization that sent adults to try and kidnap him at a young age. and he rationalizes it by going “i am the Protagonist this is happening because i am the Main Character” and then lives his life by that idea bc it’s that or face the fact that he’s nothing, that he’s an average person and all these things happened to him for no reason. and then he meets mob and wants to befriend him, has questions he wants to ask- here is someone who might finally understand him. and then bc teru is thinking like a Main Character i think he goes “ok so if i defeat him then we’re friends otherwise we’re rivals” bc he’s still going off of tropes and cliches. and then shigeo fucking curbstomps him and he goes “oh ok i get it im not the main character 👍 KAGEYAMA’s the main character. so i must be The Rival Character then” but it’s just a way he can act as a friend without breaking the tropes he uses to rationalize his trauma

YEAH YOU GET IT! YOU UNDERSTAND! He's so horribly lonely but also literally everything about his mindset is directly standing in the way of giving him any connection. He holds people to such high standards that they're always going to disappoint him, so he spends time with none of them. He craves constant approval and affection but none of it is enough to satisfy the need for actual connection. So he just goes through shallow relationship after shallow relationship going Yep. This is great. I am happy. And I genuinely think he doesn't realize he's NOT happy because like. When you're in a shitty situation for your entire life you don't necessarily realize things can be Better. So Teru is not captured by claw when other people are, and he can do things that other people can't, so his situation is better than most! Nevermind the fact hey maybe there shouldn't be Claw. Maybe people shouldn't be attacking random kids. Maybe this is all insane. He's just like. Wow I'm so strong and smart for evading claw, because the idea that he just was Lucky would be terrifying and take away his entire sense of safety. He needs to be the smartest toughest guy that Has Ever Existed™ because if he's not, then suddenly he could get captured or die at any moment. And that's suddenly way less haha my life is so cool! The denial juice is strong here.

Literally everything about his introduction episodes is so damn telling. He tells the body improvement club everyone always underestimates him. But he conveniently leaves out how this makes him feel, or if he's offended. We see him lose his shit when Mob says he isn't able to hurt him, so clearly he's far more affected by it than he wants to admit. But he can't be upset by it. It's an Advantage in this Battle he's in. No one takes him seriously, and that means he can get away with more shit, and that means it's easier to beat them in battle! Nevermind the fact that he works his ass off, he is not upset at all, because that would be ridiculous. It's an Advantage. He wraps literally everything in his life that hurts him up in a bow of "Actually, this is good." He cannot admit that anything about him or his life is bad. He cannot admit that he isn't perfect, or that his life isn't just a fun challenge, or that he maybe misses his parents a little bit. He like...just fully submerges himself in the idea of being a character so he doesn't have to realize how easily he could die or have his life ruined. If his parents stop sending him money, he's fucked. If claw beats him, he's fucked. He doesn't have actual connections with people, because he views them too lowly to let them in at all, and he is fucking himself over so hard with it. He needs this to not be terrifying. And he also needs to be in the right, I think. I mean, he treats all of the fights at school like a game. It feeds his ego and it means he's safe. People can't touch him and it feels good to take out his anger (he's just angry that they disrespect him, he has nothing else whatsoever to have unresolved anger about, he is completely fine and is just enjoying being able to wipe that smug smile off that assholes face. He is so okay and well adjusted!) He's just. A mess of weird ass coping mechanisms. If he isn't right, which he definitely is!, suddenly he isn't the main character, suddenly he's not just Doing Whatever, suddenly he's just another asshole. Y'know. Do I make sense. He needs to be right because if he's not right it goes from a fun game to he was just an asshole for no reason and he didn't actually gain anything at all.

God. I need to rewatch EP five, because it's insane and also tells you so much about Teru, I'm sure it's even better on a rewatch. I need to rewatch this show soon or I'll die. But like. God. He takes the idea of the only other natural esper his age he's ever met being different than him SO personally. Because he's right. He is doing everything exactly the way he is supposed to. Clearly this guy is an idiot and weak. That's why he's afraid to fight him. Clearly. He can't comprehend that maybe Mob just straight up doesn't want to hurt him. Mob thinks he's better than him. Mob needs to be taken down a peg. And then he can't hurt Mob. Then he can't break his fucking barrier. Hes fought espers before. He knows how to fight espers. He is perfectly capable of it. He has literally everything he needs to beat him and for the first time he very suddenly Can't. And this person is so different and is treating him like he's having a temper tantrum and isn't following his rules that he's formed his entire life around. Can I interest you in autistic Teru. Can I please interest you in the fact Teru has autism. Please ma'am I just want a minute of your time.

I also feel like. The fact he Needed to idolize Mob is very telling. Mob defeated him so CLEARLY he's so powerful and perfect and amazing. He still can't let go of Being Amazing, of the idea he can't fail for no good reason. He needs Mob to be special or else he means nothing. Or else he's worthless. He needs to mean something. His entire identity is hinged around Mob now which. No pressure. He needs Mob to be perfect or else he's worth Nothing. So he puts him on a huge pedestal so he doesn't have to do any reflecting and now he can have the added bonus of a friend and it's Fine! It is totally fine. He is not affected by the fact he almost killed a man on accident. He is not affected by the fact he may have severely injured several people. He is not affected by the fact Mob could've killed him. He is not affected by the fact he was wrong. None of this affects him at all. He is So Fine.

And then he switched the narrative around to haha I was the one who needed to be taken down a peg. This is fine. My world view is not in shambles. I don't need to reassess anything. Everything that happened to me is still cool and fine and I still matter because I'm in the main characters life. So it's fine. He goes from nothing matters except Me to nothing matters except Kageyama, but at first he's done absolutely zero reconfiguring.

Also like. He romanticized that fight so much. Can we please talk about that. God. Hi. This fucking kid. Someone please like. Get him a therapist and maybe a Capri Sun.

I'm too tired to write more right now and think I should probably go ahead and post but like. Yeah. God. This show. Teru makes way too much damn sense. I want to shake him. What is his problem (just spent several paragraphs analyzing his problem.)

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Romantic Gestures

Pairing:Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @swordcrossedlover. So a few months ago Duster blew him out of the water when it came to celebrating Valentine's Day, and then Dabi completely fucked up returning the favor on White Day. Now, as they hit their one year anniversary of dating, he really, really wants to get things right as he and his lover spend the day together.

Contents: Tooth-rotting fluff, BDSM, Sir kink, Praise kink, Feminization, Lingerie, Anal fingering, Anal sex, Creampie, Riding.

Word Count: 7342

It probably would surprise absolutely no one that Dabi has never been in an extended romantic entanglement in his life. He's not sure how or when in his life he ever would have been able to make some kind of romantic relationship work at all, given how he spent his youth obsessed with living up to his lost potential, his adolescence in a coma, his teenage years on the streets trying to keep his skin from falling off, and time as a young adult trying to figure out how to kill his father. So realizing that he wasn't just hooking up with his boss but that they were actually dating had been a shock. Realizing that they kept dating, that they were sharing their space, and now living together completely in the PLF, that Tomura wants to keep him for as long as he can have him, and in no way seems ready to run for the hills, was a bit of a shock. But what ends up being even more shocking is the fact that they have been dating for a year. Sure there was a chunk of that time where Duster was off floating in a tube, but it's been a year now. Their work with the PLF is getting stronger and stronger, and they're getting so much closer to being able to tear apart hero society before anyone sees them coming. They're stronger than they were when AFO was commanding the organization from the shadows. And, perhaps most astonishingly to him, they're happy. 

Toga is thriving being around so many people without anyone being scared of her. Twice is getting treatment for his condition and is making strides to actually be able to use his quirk to its fullest effect. Compress has the best prosthetic that could be designed and has fully adapted his fighting style around his disability. Spinner's finally not a Stain fanboy anymore and is actually working to grow his own fighting style around his quirk instead of trying to mimic the serial killer’s. Tomura's body is no longer at risk of falling apart under the strain of his teacher's quirk and is making it his own with each new piece he unlocks. And he's... better. He's never going to be good, his quirk will always be too strong for his body, and the scarring across his skin is permanent unless he gets years and years worth of reconstruction, but having access to medicine, money, and a safe place to live means that his open seams have finally closed, the burned skin slowly fusing back together with the other parts and leaving him no longer falling apart if he loses a few staples for whatever reason. He's put on more muscle, his chronic pain has gotten less severe, and he's... happy. 

And that's to say nothing about how he and Duster have been since they became, like, a real couple. A real couple that shares a living space, sleeps in the same bed each night, shares meals, and spends their downtime together. The sex, of course, is nothing to overlook, but the domestic things, the emotional things, that they've had in and around that, is more shocking to him overall. He didn't think he was capable of having anything in him besides his anger and revenge. Duster agreed to take up space right alongside that however, never pushing to be more to him than that. It's unbearably sappy that he'd managed to fall in love with him anyway. 

Which is why, when they start to come up on their actual anniversary, Dabi alternates constantly between being pleased that they literally made it this long without anything disastrous happening, and humiliated because that means he has to come up with something to do for said anniversary. He got lucky that neither of them did anything for each other's birthdays because they just hadn't even mentioned them until well after they'd passed. Christmas had been a League thing instead of a couple thing after how much of a year they'd had so far, and Dabi had thought he was safe from holidays. In his defense, he had never once celebrated Valentine's Day, or seen his parents celebrate it when he was growing up. It was absolutely not on his fucking radar. In fact, he had been extremely annoyed when his schedule had suddenly been cleared and he was without anything to do for a whole day, especially when the others all seemed to be turning and running the other way whenever he tried to find or talk to them. To top it all off, Duster wasn't even around either because he was with the doctor. 

So he had been annoyed, alone, and without anything to do. He went to train with every intention of just letting that wear him down to nothing and then going to pass out for a while, possibly after getting high. He was even more furious when he found out that his training area was currently blocked off as something he couldn't get a clear answer about was going on, so he skipped it and decided, yeah, no, he was going to get absolutely loaded, pull the curtains shut, turn off all the lights in their room, and curl up under the blankets until he passed out from heat stroke. And he had gone back to their room. 

To find that Duster had his lunch already delivered and waiting for him, that the bath was filled and steaming with milk, honey, and fucking rose petals, and his love had left him a bowl to smoke as well. Dabi had caught on then that this, of course, was Tomura's doing, but he didn't know why he'd arranged for this while he was away. Maybe he just felt bad that so much of his work had gotten shifted onto Dabi's pile while he was busy, but Dabi had decided that he would give his lover shit about it later. He had his lunch, smoked in the bath, and when he'd gotten out, it was to find new clothes laid out for him on their bed, his e-reader all loaded up with new books, a set of confidential files that his lover somehow got out of the Endeavor agency, and a note asking him to get dressed and go to the roof at seven. He was more than happy to lounge around mostly naked, reading and scheming to kill time for a few hours before getting dressed in the red lingerie, black dress pants, and black silk shirt that had been left for him before he headed up to the roof. 

To where Tomura had been waiting with a whole candlelit dinner. He fucking went all out wining and dining Dabi, who was already reeling just from the fact he'd paused his treatments to come see him. He'd pampered Dabi and made him feel like a princess before the other man had even taken him to bed, and then he had taken him to bed and made him float so high, for so long, that Dabi had really, seriously thought he was in danger of dying from bliss. And he still hadn't caught on to it being Valentine's day until Duster had murmured it in his ear. 

He was a little mortified then to realize what he'd been missing the whole time, but he was able to deflect that by punching him in the side and telling his lover not to treat him like a girl outside of their sheets. But he still felt like he had to do something for White Day. Tomura told him that he didn't have to, he was more than happy to just spend the day with Dabi, but he had been so thoroughly shown up, he was desperate to prove that he was capable of being as romantic as Duster. Which was a hell of a lot harder to do when he didn't have any clue how to be romantic for Duster. The classic shit worked on him because he had never been treated to any kind of classical romantic gesture, and the embarrassment that came alongside the thin curls of pleasure at being treated as precious now, had made it heady. But Duster didn't care about that stuff, and Dabi had spent a humiliating month trying so hard to plan something only to end up burning dinner because his emotions were going too high and his quirk was out of control, chocolates that melted, and so frustrated and upset at his failures, that Tomura wouldn't take him to bed for anything but cuddling to calm him down and make sure he felt better. It was a massive failure and Dabi was bound and determined not to let anything similar happen for their anniversary. 

///

Dabi wakes up early the day of their anniversary. He has a plan god damn it, and he's not going to sleep through it. Duster isn't in their room which probably means his insomnia kept him up for most of the night, to the point he went to his office to work. So Dabi goes and showers quickly before going back into their closet. He had his lover pick out three different sets of lingerie that he would like to see him in and Dabi settles on the set that he wants to wear and throws on his normal lounging clothes overtop, though he does opt for one of Tomura's kitten-soft fine-knit red sweaters because he knows how much Shig likes it when he wears his stuff and his color. And when that's finished, he heads right to their common area and kitchen. The rest of the League isn't around, and he didn't expect them to be this early in the day, so he starts prepping ingredients without having anyone breathing down his neck. 

He and Tomura agreed that they both got to plan things for the day in equal measures, and Duster gets to plan and surprise him with their scene tonight if Dabi gets to decide on dinner. And this time he's not going out of his way to attempt making the fanciest thing that he can think of. He's not going to stress himself out over any of that. But making dessert in advance and leaving it to chill until later will make it perfect. He does, perhaps, make certain that all of the ingredients that he had delivered were the best quality that money could buy for this, but the recipe itself isn't complicated and he's made it for the League before. It's the only dessert that he's ever had Tomura not only eat, but eat more of without prompting, and he figures that will be perfect for tonight. 

He brews up the strongest espresso he's ever made in his life and makes sure to let it cool a bit before he moves onto the next steps. He also puts aside a smaller container to make a miniature tiramisu without alcohol since Toga hates the rum in the original recipe. It only takes him a short while to have the dessert assembled in its dish and put into the fridge. And then he pauses, , takes their memo pad off the fridge and writes a note, 

'If any of you fuckers cut into this before I do, I'm burning off your dicks. Don't fuck with me.' And then a second note for the little container, 'For Toga, alcohol-free :)' 

He slaps them on, puts them away, and then brews fresh coffee for he and Duster, along with some toast and a rolled omelet and then he heads to the other side of the villa to their offices. He knocks on the door as a formality more than anything before catching the handle and slipping inside. Shig is at his desk and smiles when he comes in, and from the budget reports he's reviewing, Dabi knows that he's happy to see him for more selfish reasons than usual. 

"Happy anniversary, firefly." 

"Yeah, yeah, happy anniversary, come have breakfast with me." 

They sit together on the little couch and have their food and coffee, and when they're done, Tomura pulls him closer and gives him a kiss. "What are you doing up so early, baby?" 

Dabi nuzzles right back in. "Had my own shit to do this morning. But now I'm finished and I want to know what you have planned for the rest of the day." 

"I don't have anything planned outside of tonight, precious." Tomura says. 

"No hot air balloon ride?" 

"No." 

"Picnic on the burned out remains of my childhood home?" 

"Not unless you want to go on a fieldtrip." 

"Proposal in front of the entire organization?" 

"No, you wouldn't say 'yes' if I asked in front of other people." And he looks beyond amused at this point. "But if you want a ring--" 

"Don't you fucking dare. I'm not gonna marry you until after the end of the war." It's an easier thing to say now, because after about six months of dating, Duster told him bluntly, that he was it for him. Dabi was the only person he'd ever been in a romantic relationship with and thought that he wanted that to last forever. He would have probably married him then, just in case they got arrested so that they might still be able to have visits with one another in Tartarus, but Dabi had smacked him across the back of his head and told him to stop being a sap. 

"I guess I better win then." He murmurs, pulling Dabi in for another kiss. He lets himself melt into that. It's been a year. He's tired of pretending that he doesn't soak up every drop of affection that he's given. Tomura kisses him slow and sweet, one hand cupping the back of his neck, all five fingers on him because he can control his quirk completely now, because he made himself so much more powerful, but instead of showing the world what a threat he is, he'd come right home to him so that he could hold his hand without making it hurt. 

Dabi all but crawls into his lap, tangling his fingers through his lover's soft hair, so long now it's curling down his back, and lets his lover hold him close and lick behind his teeth. But when Tomura's hand strays to the hem of his sweater, Dabi catches his wrist and parts just enough to breathe, "Not until after dinner." 

"Alright princess," he rubs their noses together before giving Dabi another sweet peck. "So what do you want to do today?" 

///

And instead of killing himself trying to think of something romantic for them to spend their time doing, Dabi just wants to spend the day with each other. They head back to their room, and it's not fancy baths, rose petals, and candlelight, it's he and Shig lazing about, his feet in his lover's lap as he taps away at one of his games and Dabi reads. They talk when they feel like it, they kiss and press in close for cuddles when the mood strikes them, or strikes Dabi mostly. He doesn't try to outdo the romantic gestures that Shig did for him before. He just lets himself soak in the gentle affection that they've been cultivating between them for the past year. And Tomura seems more than happy with that. Dabi knows he's prickly most other times, too embarrassed, too self-conscious to let himself be as unabashedly warm as his lover is to him. But he doesn't let himself get into his head about that today, he just lets himself enjoy the things about their relationship that he's been receiving for so long now, and he puts away the fear of them being ripped away if he does something wrong. Tomura wouldn't ever abandon him. He would tear down the entire world for him and then put it back together dust particle by dust particle if it meant that he would finally believe that this is something he doesn't have to earn. 

The hours pass, but it's so easy to not notice the time going by. When they were apart, every hour felt like sandpaper being dragged across his mind, but when they're together, time flows like water and it's hard for him to feel like they've spent the whole day together as the sun begins to set because he has just been in a heavy fog of contentment. He only notices because he had an alarm set so that he would know when their dessert had been chilled long enough to be ready to cut. He takes that as an opportunity to text for the dinner he'd already set up to be ordered to be picked up and goes right back to being cuddled close and with his lover. 

It takes about half an hour before his phone chimes and says that the food is ready, so he reluctantly extracts himself from his lover. "Are you cooking?" He asks, and there's no expectation or judgment in the question, just, maybe, a faint concern after how poorly things had gone on White Day. 

"Nope. I'll be back in a minute." 

"Do you want--" 

"Stay." 

Tomura's brows raise and Dabi knows that's going to earn him a punishment, though he hopes he saves it for tomorrow and doesn't change whatever he has planned for tonight. He does stay where he is though, turning his attention back to his game as he looks for a save point. 

Dabi goes and is happy to see the two brown bags of takeout sitting on the counter with his name on them, and is amused to see Toga sitting on the couch with her container of tiramisu, eating it smugly while the others look like they're vibrating as he goes over to the fridge. He takes out the container, cuts two sizable portions, sprinkles on a bit of cocoa powder, and then gathers his bags on one arm and holds the plates in his hands. 

"Go for it, you freaks." He's fairly certain he hears the others descending on the dessert like rabid dogs, but he doesn't pay them any mind. He goes back to his and Shig's room and finds the other has put away their electronics and has clearly remade the bed and probably picked out whatever he wants to use on him tonight and relocated it to the bedside drawer for easier access. 

Dabi sets down the bags and they start to take out the food. Shig blinks in surprise. Dabi tends to gravitate towards more traditional dishes when he picks dinner, or really any meal. His formative years cooking were for things that were traditional because his father was traditional and focused on keeping his house as traditional as possible. But the others, and Tomura especially from his upbringing of meeting with and traveling all over with AFO, means that he is more likely to pick out food from other places around the world if he is tasked with picking their meal. So the Indian takeout instead of an elaborate, romantic Japanese dinner, and the ice cold six pack of beer is definitely a surprise. 

"Why Indian, firefly?" He asks, but it's definitely not a complaint as they start to open up the different takeout containers. 

"Cause the night that you and I stayed up until past three working on getting the summer camp job ready, this is what you ordered, and apparently it was the first time you ever got me to laugh, which you also apparently could not shut up about for a solid week--" 

It is rare that someone as shameless as Duster ever manages to get embarrassed, but faint splotches of pink start on his cheeks. "I don't--"

"Spinner ratted you out." 

"I'm going to kill him." 

"He also said that you consider that our first date, since we didn't really have one before I let you blow my back out." Technically, if that were true, then their anniversary would have been two months ago, but Tomura had actually asked for them to be something beyond fuck buddies a year ago today, and presumably hadn't wanted him to know about how sappy he was, so today is the day they're celebrating. "You can't kill him, he's your best friend." 

"I can maim him." 

Dabi doesn't argue with that, he knows his lover wouldn't ever do it anyway.

///

They eat and the food is good, talking is good, it's so easy to be with Tomura now. He came clean about Toya a few months ago, and doing that had removed a barrier that Dabi hadn't really thought he was feeling in their relationship. Easy for them to talk shit about Trumpet's haircut, to speculate about exactly how much inbreeding Geten had to have from that side of his family for him to be as fucking dense as a pile of bricks now, to talk about their plans, the ones that they'll be putting into practice soon, and the ones that will be getting finished far in the future after the war, and feel... hopeful for the first time in their lives. It's different than things ever felt before, and he is laughing again by the time they're finished with dinner and dessert and he's being pulled into his lover's lap for another kiss. 

"Show me what you're wearing, princess," Tomura orders, his lips curved into a smile as he nips along his jaw. Dabi doesn't protest this time. Tomura let him have the day, let it be what he thinks has been an easy redemption for the absolute mess he made of White Day, and he's always more than happy to show off for his lover. 

He sits up a little and lets Duster pull away his sweater, showing him the lacy red bralette he's wearing underneath, thin, strappy, and see-through the way he always likes. Never wanting Dabi to hide his scars, always wanting him in something delicate because he thinks Dabi's, 

"Beautiful, baby girl." His lover has had so many other words for him and about his body, but the sincerity of this one never fails to take his breath away. 

"Thank you, sir," he manages before Tomura gives him another kiss. He doesn't push to go any faster, but there is a different kind of heat that's crackling through their space now, that slow burn of pleasure that is getting hotter and hotter as his hands move over his skin. 

Duster finds the places on his body that he knows so well now. He touches his sides, along his back, teasing just under his staple punctures on the healthy side where his skin is so sensitive, and he does it without being disgusted he wants to be touched there, or scared that doing so could hurt him because he knows so completely what Dabi can handle. He licks along his neck, over to his pulse point, and nibbles and sucks there to put the promise of a bruise under his skin that no one else will see, but Dabi will be able to feel for a long while, little marks of ownership that he knows he'll carry for the rest of the week with satisfaction deep in his bones. He lets out a fluttery sigh, working his hands under his lover's shirt, touching his cool skin and trying to work it up as he goes. Tomura pulls away and lets him remove the fabric, but once he has, he shifts how he's holding him. 

"Come on, princess, I want to see you all laid out." 

It's effortless for him to lift Dabi now, and a heady heat goes through him as he's carried bridal-style over to their bed. Being made small and easy to carry and care for, being delicate when he's a gnarled mess of scars and sharp edges, makes him feel like he's going to float away already, and Sir has barely started with him. He wraps his arms around his neck, pulling himself even closer so that he can press his own kisses there as he's taken over to the bed. Tomura laughs when he clings to him for a moment longer to give him a few more before he lets himself be put down. 

But when he's on his back, Sir's hands go to his waistband and Dabi lifts his hips, helping him to take away the last of his real clothes. Duster's eyes drag up his body and Dabi is breathless from how he looks at him. "You're so gorgeous, precious." He murmurs, a hand moving up along the back of his leg as he shifts to kneel on the bed. Dabi spreads his to make room for him, and the hand hooks behind his knee, pulling that one up and open further so that he can see how his panties cling to his crotch and ass. "I love seeing you all dressed up for me." He would replace his wardrobe entirely with the clothes Tomura likes if there weren't practical reasons to not. Maybe when they rule Japan together. He could let Tomura keep him in lingerie, dresses, and finery for a whole year just for the hell of it. "But I think you're missing something to make you perfect, princess." 

Through the hazy bliss already pressing in along his nerves, Dabi's mind twinges with confusion. This is the full set, this one doesn't have stockings to go with it-- Tomura leans over to the nightstand and extracts a thin square box wrapped in black paper with a brilliant blue bow on top. Dabi sits up so that his lover can give him the gift. "Thank you, sir." Tomura leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead before pulling back to let Dabi open it. 

The ribbon pulls easily and he runs a nail underneath the edges of the paper until he can slide out the crisp white box inside. Tomura takes the paper and ribbon from him before Dabi opens the lid and finds, nestled in pearlescent white tissue paper, a new collar. Unlike his day collar that is just black leather with a few modest spikes and an O-ring, this one's for scening, and is a thicker pale pink ribbon and lace with gold findings, the ring at the center in the shape of a heart with letters in-- he runs his thumb over the first and realizes that they definitely aren't plastic rhinestones. No, these feel like real stones of some kind, though if his lover actually got him diamonds for their first anniversary, Dabi is going to have to kill him-- gemstones of some kind, spelling out 'Sir's Princess'. It's frilly and pretty, and tells Dabi exactly what he is, what he's supposed to be when he's like this, and how much Sir loves him for giving himself up so completely to him. 

"Can I wear it?" He wants it on now, but that's not for him to decide. 

"Of course you can, baby girl. You know I'll give you anything you want if you are always so sweet when you ask." Tomura takes the collar out, and Dabi gives a soft sigh as the delicate lace and ribbon kiss his neck as he wraps it around his throat. The findings and letters are heavier, making the piece feel substantial even though the body of the collar is made out of lighter materials than his day collar. Tomura secures it and then leans back to look at him again. "There. Oh, baby girl," he sounds breathless when he speaks again, his eyes and words soft with his affection, "I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I love you." He traces a finger along where the lace and his skin meet, "Or how happy I am you're mine." 

His face feels hotter, his whole body feels hotter when he manages, barely above a whisper. "Love belonging to you, Sir." He never thought he would ever be able to dedicate himself to anything beyond his revenge, but he is... he is so dangerously close to letting that go if it means he can be Tomura's sword and shield in the final fight. If he can be certain that being at his side will mean that they win their war. He catches one of Shig's hands, his damaged one with his prosthetics in place, and presses a kiss to his palm. "Keep me?"

"Forever, princess." His lover tells him emphatically. And then his mouth is back against his and he's pulling Dabi close, his hands are back on his skin, stroking and teasing. Every touch screams with the desperation to show him that he means it. He would spend an eternity with him, he would tell him every day for the rest of time how deeply he's loved. Heat starts to spark hotter through his veins as Sir's hands move to his chest and he rubs a finger over his covered nipples. He changed his piercings today, studs with little dangling heart chains for the occasion, and when Tomura feels them, he smiles against his lips before he reaches back to unhook his bra. 

"You're so cute, baby girl. I love how you dress up for me." And he knows how much Dabi loves his praise. He lives for it, and of all of their play, nothing makes him hotter than Tomura's sweet words in his ears as his hands move across his body. "It makes me so happy to see how much you've embraced being so pretty for me, princess." 

He mewls as Sir uses one hand to unclasp his bra, but the other goes down his back, pulling him up from the mattress and then into his body until he's in Sir's lap, his thighs spread so wide. There wasn't a chance of hiding his building arousal already in his thin, tiny panties, but his cock is rubbing against Sir now in this position and his lover is smiling again as he murmurs, 

"Even prettier when your clit starts to blush like that, baby girl." Which only serves to put embarrassment inside of his veins alongside the heat. He tangles his fingers back into Tomura's hair and pulls him into another kiss to staunch the flow of his words for a moment as he shrugs out of his bra and his lover brings both hands to his ass, cupping him and squeezing just firmly enough to have him moaning as he's dragged in even tighter to his body. His panties don't cover his skin completely, and even then, Sir slips two fingers underneath the lace so he can tease him as he steals his breath. He moans as he is touched, clinging onto him and rolling his hips against him to put more of that pleasure against his clit as Sir makes him get hotter. 

Tomura pulls away only long enough to see the charms dangling from his chest, and he spares a hand to tease them, tugging gently on the chain so that the little tug there makes him gasp. "Should've known from the first moment I saw you that you would like having your pretty tits admired and played with." He cups one as his mouth goes to the other, licking along his seam and kissing down to his nipple. Dabi whines as he teases at the bud, nipping just hard enough that the sensitive nerves tangle that spark of pain through him and makes his clit even harder. He sucks and licks at his chest until there is a constant stream of moans coming out of him, and when he switches to the other side, he's so sensitive that just the weight of the charm hanging off of his skin has him trembling. By the time he pulls away from them completely, they're swollen and red and Dabi is even hotter because, "There, now your tits are blushing as cutely as your clit, baby girl." 

"More, Sir, please?" He begs, rocking himself into his lover's hips and feeling his cock against him. That gets them both moaning, and Tomura holding him even tighter. 

"You can have anything you want, princess. I'm going to give you the whole world." He promises. Dabi would give it right back if it meant he could just have Tomura like this forever. He expects his lover to make him shift positions so that he can get him naked, but Sir doesn't. He reaches to the nightstand and pulls out their lube, their best lube, the silicone lube that Sir only uses when he wants to take his time. Dabi trembles and his lover laughs warmly. "I should have had you wear white if you were going to act like my sweet virginal little bride." 

And he humiliates himself by whimpering as he grinds against him again. 

Tomura's eyes light up. "Oh, princess, after all of that protesting? You want to be my bride? Do you want to pretend, baby girl?" 

"Sir," he whines.

"Not the words I need, baby." He's still smiling as he pulls his panties to the side and exposes him to the cooler air. "Does my baby girl need my vows first?" He teases again. He kisses Dabi before he can protest, his body going impossibly hot. It's been a long time since he felt like he was going to completely combust because of his lover's words, his pleasure and embarrassment both burning through him as Tomura slicks his fingers and starts to tease them around his rim. He goes slowly as he pulls back, his lips never fully leaving his skin as they move over his body and as he speaks. "I'm going to stay by your side forever, princess. I'm going to make sure that you reach all of your goals-- and I'm going to be there to help you even after you wish I would have given up." 

The sensations in his body feel like a knife-point he's balancing on the edge of. He can't tell if he hurts or if he feels good as his lover promises those things as his fingers start to work inside of his body, slicking his skin and stroking along his walls. His nerves cry out for pleasure, but the sharpness in his chest, like every word is being taken into his heart and threatening to burst as it gets fuller, is a keening ache. But he's still moaning and desperate, trying to catch Tomura in kiss after kiss as he grinds their cocks together and rocks back onto his fingers, getting more desperate to try and get more of his skin, and fewer of his words before he shatters. 

"Going to tell you every day how beautiful you are, how much I love you," Dabi whines, pulling at his hair as he fucks himself back onto his fingers. Sir gives him what he wants, angling to rub against his prostate on every subsequent thrust, bringing his need higher and higher. "Love how you moan, precious, and the way your skin smokes when you lose control. I never know if I should ever let anyone else see how perfect you are when you're feeling good, baby. They'd want you for themselves, but you're so lovely, and you love to have all eyes on you. I would let them watch so long as I know you're mine. You're going to be mine forever, won't you, princess?" 

"Yes, Sir," his voice is higher, thin with his pleasure, and desperate for more. "Tomura--" 

"Those still aren't the words I need for you to be my bride, baby." He sinks a third finger inside of him and Dabi keens, his clit so achingly hard it's smearing pre all against his panties, so wet that he's making Tomura's pants wet too as they move against one another. "What else? In sickness and in health? You've already been there for me when I was shattered. You took such good care of me-- of our family," Dabi's eyes burn as his chest feels like it's going to burst. "And I'm going to take care of you just the same. I'm going to change every staple, help heal every burn, and I'm going to let you know every day that your quirk didn't break you." 

"Duster," his voice cracks, tears slipping over his cheeks. Tomura kisses them away and Dabi can't stand it anymore. He reaches for his pants and fumbles messily with the button and zip, knowing his hands must feel so hot against his lover's cooler skin as he pulls him out and strokes him, needing to have his cock inside right now. 

"For richer or poorer? We've done both. I wouldn't ever give up the times we spent sleeping curled up together under your coat--" 

"Tomura," he tangles a hand in his hair and yanks hard enough to make his lover wince. 

"Just two words, princess, and I'll be yours forever." 

He keens, tears on his cheeks and a desperation in him that he's never had before, as he pulls their mouths together again, "I do." 

Tomura kisses him so hard their teeth click, pulling his fingers out of him. There's a fumble of movement as he gets the bottle again and slicks his cock, but as soon as his hands are around Dabi's hips again, they're shifting to bring their bodies together. They both lose themselves in a moan as Dabi takes him deep inside, his muscles trembling as he's stretched everywhere he's wanted to be. 

He's too frantic to try to take things slowly. He needs his lover, needs Tomura across every inch of him so that he can be completely consumed. He wants to belong to him. He has belonged to him since the first second he walked into the bar in Kamino, and he's never known how to tell him that. Tomura doesn't struggle with his words. He doesn't doubt anything he says, and he almost never lies. He would make Dabi his forever. He would marry him if Dabi just let him ask. He would give Dabi the world and then some if it meant they could stay together forever. 

"I love you, Iloveyou, Iloveyou!" He babbles against his lips as his lover helps him to move in his lap, drawing him higher and pulling him down faster than he could have himself as his muscles shake and tears drip off his cheeks. 

"I love you, firefly," Tomura tells him, more conviction in this declaration than any he has made to the PLF, the League, All For One. He loves Dabi more than his war, his quirk, his people. He won't ever abandon him for any of those things. He won't ever let him go unless he asks to leave. 

Dabi knows he never will. 

This isn't scening, isn't fucking, it's something different and softer that Dabi never thought he would experience, no matter how much faster and rougher their movements are getting as they creep closer to their completion. For the first time, Dabi really thinks he understands what people meant when they said that they felt like they were one with their partner as they make love. They are so entangled now that Dabi doesn't think that they will ever be able to be separate again, and he never wants to be. He wants this for the rest of their lives. 

It's not a surprise then, as their pleasure builds, that it builds together, and Dabi is aching, loud moans spilling out of him as his lover moves inside. "Tomura," he gasps, "close." 

"I know princess," he murmurs, kissing away another track of tears. "I can always feel it when your pussy gets so hot and tight like this." Dabi mewls, his clit aching, and he can't help it, he has to reach between them so that he can cup himself through the thin, soaked lace, and grind himself against his palm as the thrusts grow harder. "That's it, baby girl. I want you to feel good. Show me how good it is, baby. Cum with me." 

He's smoking as that sends him over the edge in just a few more thrusts, his lover's cock hitting his sweet spot on each one. And as his muscles tense as he cums, Tomura's groan entangles with his moans as his cock twitches before he's painting his spend all along his walls. 

He feels like every bone has been replaced with jello as he slumps against his lover's chest, eyes slipping shut as he tries to catch his breath, soaked inside and his panties stained and dripping with his cum. But he doesn't care. He just knows that he has never felt safer, more complete, more loved than when he's in Tomura's arms. 

///

Duster kept him full and happy a few more times before he ran them a bath and soaked with him in the tub for a long while. Then he'd dried them off and carried Dabi back to bed, and spent the rest of the night finding a hundred other ways to tell Dabi how much he loved him until he'd passed out. And when he wakes up, he is still curled into his lover's chest, Tomura stroking his hair as the sun rises behind their curtains. 

"When I said you could plan a scene, I expected some fucked up, kinky shit with a lot of edging," Because that's usually what he gets when his lover wants to indulge them both for a long time. "Not wedding roleplay." 

"We can do all of that today if you want to, precious. And who said that was roleplay, firefly?" Tomura presses a kiss to the crown of his head and then stretches an arm out to the nightstand, reaching into the drawer and extracting a piece of paper and a pen. Dabi gapes, incredulous as he is presented with a marriage certificate that has already been signed by their officiant (Compress) and their witnesses (Spinner and Twice). "Toga wanted to sign too, but she's not an adult." 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" 

Tomura smiles and gives him another kiss. You don't have to sign if you don't want to, baby, we didn't put any dates on it--" 

"I hate you, give me that." Dabi snatches the pen and scrawls down his legal name. "I'm only signing this because I'm going to divorce you next week." 

"That's fine, firefly, it just means that I get to ask you to marry me again." Tomura signs his name too, and the license looks wrong with 'Tenko Shimura' and 'Toya Todoroki' on it. 

Dabi takes it and shoves it back in the drawer. "This is for the cops and the heroes. If something goes wrong, if we fail, then that's for them. But when we win," he's never been an optimistic person about his future, but he wants a life with Tomura in the world they build after the war. "You can actually ask me and if I'm in a good mood I may say 'yes', and then we can have a real wedding, as us." 

He has never had someone look at him like he was the sun and moon, but Tomura never fails to. "I think that sounds more than fair, Dabi." 

His lover wraps his hand around the back of his neck and pulls him into a kiss again. Maybe when they get married for real they'll do it on the anniversary of their first date, or maybe they'll make it the anniversary of the end of the war. He supposes they'll have time to think about it before then. Dabi nips at Shig's lips. 

"I can't believe you showed me up again." 

"What are you talking about? All I did was get a piece of paper. You recreated our first date. I'm definitely going to have to think of something extra special for our next holiday." 

He can't help snorting when his lover sounds completely serious with that declaration before he leans in for another kiss. 

[threepandas]

The Vod's List: Part 2

You know the worst part about the Republic standard hazard mask? No, not the "for dealing WITH hazardous materials" one. The "your species can be fully or partially CONSIDERED one, so to interact with the rest of polite society you gotta wear protection so we don't DIE" one. THAT hazard mask. From the set.

Yeah, you the worst part about THAT mask?

It's like someone really, REALLY high up in power DELIBERATELY made the who set as... well, for lack of a better term? Slave-like and uncomfortable as possible. As humiliating as possible. Like they WANTED the people who had to wear it, to suffer and be upset. And like? I KNOW it's probably just some really REALLY out of touch politician? Who's never had to WEAR one of these kriffing things in their karking LIFE?

But come ON! It looks and feels like a MUZZLE.

A BADLY FITTED ONE at that! Like? And don't ask me how I KNOW this? Because the holonet is deep and filled with weird wondrous horrors? Buuuuut... according to CERTAIN individuals. Who HAVE reviewed a VARIETY of muzzles for... personal reasons? And Bones bless! No judgment! According to certain Unnamed Experts of The Field, as it were?

.......these masks kriffing SUCK nifflestones.

Padding is shit. Airflow it terrible. Not customized for individual races AT ALL. Just? Mouth a "hazard"? Cover it. Who CARES if that means the individual kriffing suffocates. Or karking near DROWNS on their own threat or stress response. To say NOTHING of those who have to routinely either use their mouth's "hazard" or have it TRIGGERED by something pressing AGAINST their jaw!

It's a genuinely terrible design! Almost deliberately so. Keeps a lot of people from ever even bothering from leaving their planet's.

Why do I bring this up? Because working at the senate building is stressful. Dealing with sleemo plasbone's who like to shove me around cause I'm in a glorified MUZZLE is stressful. Knowing I recently infected an innocent man is KARKING STRESSFUL!

And you know what the Techganic response to STRESS is?!

Drool and STRESS BITING.

My ENTIRE fucking BLOODLINE was literally genetically ENGINEERED to fight in a FUCKING HOLY WAR! With BIOLOGICAL WARFARE. We BITE! We bite A LOT!! We are, in fact, SUPPOSED to bite! It's like the unsacred, technological abomination child of those ancient human tales of the "zombie" and the "ber-serker"!

Stress? Stress means we are in battle. Being attacked. Threatened. Stress means ATTACK. Bite and bite and BITE. Thanks the Bones and Blood, I've never been THAT stresssed. I even had to take a test for it! Anyone with a hair trigger is NOT allowed off planet. I'm considered absurdly calm. Chill.

Doesn't mean I WON'T.

Just that it would take A LOT.

But the drool? THAT is involuntary. Is the prelude you can't escape. The means of SPREAD. Of WARRING against the machines. Organic nanite against technological nanites. Host against host. Spread against spread. Ours was a story of PLAUGES. And it left no unchanged survivors.

I get that. I DO. The horrors of our history, the fear and terrors. The resistance forces who wanted no part in the war. Who tried to escape.

What happened to them.

I REALIZE that... that a single Techganic dropped on pretty much any planet can start a nanite plague that can't be stopped. That the more stressed we get, the more our instincts demand we Spread Ourselfs. The water, the soil, the air. Yeah, we can get DANGEROUS.

But we aren't ANIMALS.

We are not who we used to BE. WHAT we used to be. Show me the planet without blood in its past and I will show you a planet that has wiped its past away.

Which is all well and good...but...

I'M FUCKING DROWNING.

These karking hazard masks are so, SO stupid and I'm trying not to panic. My hands shaking. Because if I panic? I will be stressed. If I am kriff KARKING STRESSED, I will drool FASTER. And there is no room. My karking mask is FULL OF LIQUID AND NOT DRAINING FAST ENOUGH.

I struggle with the latches. They are wet. Because my hands are wet. My neck is wet. EVERYTHING IS WET. The mask doesn't even WORK to contain the "hazard"! My hands can't get a grip on the latches. My lungs are burning for air but I can't... if I try to breath now... I'll just get... just get!

I'm in a side hall.

Would anyone even find me? Oh Stars. I'm going to drown.

Except not. Quick heavy steps down the hallway. Two gaurds spot me after turning a corner, break into a sprint. Once again the Coruscant gaurds are a beacon of calm in my darkest moment. One gently pulling my frantic hands away from my mask so the other can quickly work out how to unlock it.

With a gush, air finally hits my face as the mask unlocks and begins to be pulled away. I sputter. Cough. I think I may be weeping. The hallways is spinning as air finally rushs back in. My front is DRENCHED and I hate it. It's so gross. There was nothing I could DO and I felt like an animal. Feel like a mess.

Every drop of it is deadly. The whole hallway will have to be deep cleaned.

Am I apologizing? I think I'm apologizing.

The gaurds are so nice. Talking in low, reassuring voices as the stay with me. They called a medic. Ask me about my hobbies to distract me. A playful argument on how to "properly" take your Caf. Which local diner is the best.

I am gently bundled off by the medic, once he arrives. Another of the Guard thank Stars. The Senatorial medical team are so... judge-y. The Guard's medical is patient and professional, though the only thing he can offer me to change into is the blacks that the gaurd wear under their armor.

Tell NO ONE... but I feel kinda cool. Look at me~ I'm all holo thriller and mysterious in these. I get to KEEP them too!

Not getting the mask back though.

It nearly killed me. That and my asshole coworker who deliberately stressed me out earlier. He... the Guard ARRESTED him. And... look, I KNOW I shouldn't smile. I shouldn't. His life is probably ruined. But... but the sleemo harrased EVERYBODY. Anybody he thought he could abuse? He DID.

Looks like he finally went too far.

I lay back. Not allowed to lean until the medic is SURE there is no secondary drowning symptoms. I grab the shirt that turned out to be just a touch too small and fold it up, drape it over my eyes. It blocks out the light pretty well. I get comfortable.

As I drift off... I'm unaware that the Vod around me stop bothering to pretend the AREN'T blatantly watching me. That the normally sparsely populated medicenter ISNT damn near full of every Vod not currently on duty. The cheif medical officer himself, carefully collecting what he can from my mask.

A dense crowd of eyes slowly run over black clad limbs.

Looking to THEM. Trusting THEM. Threatened, in need of back up. Look how TIRED she was. How vulnerable. Wearing part their uniform. Like a lover, having stolen their clothes.

She trusted them above the natborns. PREFERRED them.

Thoughts began to stir... they wonder...

[bananakeiky]

This isn't about Hoyo I just needed to vomit some AFTG thoughts into a public space and I just finished ToS and I'm rabid. I have no idea how many of y'all even read this series but spoilers. And trigger warnings. Anyways.

Okay what the fuck ever the thing about ToS isn't just about of the extra trigger warnings and things that made me wanna throw up and cry at the same time. It's about how horribly, tragically awful it is that Jean is full of so much love. He always has been. It's not just haha what a pansexual no. Jean craves affection so fucking much. He's weak to pretty people and devastated by kind people. He clung to Kevin. He clung to Renee. He even clung to Thea, who affectionately called him Paris as he trailed her like a little duckling. He spits and rages and claws at them all, calling them every rabid name in the dictionary and beyond. He has a laundry list of insults for Neil, who freed him, one of the only people he truly trusts. It's just that he never expects it back. He never wants it back because it hurts so much worse when it's gone. People hurt him when it's gone. He says "I can take it" and "this is normal" because he would burn if he couldn't.

This is why he rejects the Trojans. Every "don't you see" and "why do you look away" is well-meaning but twice as hurtful because accepting it would mean Jean didn't hurt because he deserved it. Without that crutch it means he suffered for nothing. He hurt for nothing. Accepting it would mean that Jean would have to open up and fully comprehend the absolute horrors that were done not just to his life but to his personhood. To him. He was a child and a victim and he deserved to be saved and he wasn't. Not until it was too late. All of those years after being sold by his parents, yearning, aching to be loved by somebody and used as a toy and a scapegoat in return by anyone who touched him. Love is painful. Trust is painful. And Jean will love and love and love until it kills him and he knows it.

But this is why Kevin sent him to the Trojans. They may not understand survival and suffering the way the Foxes do, but they're genuine. They may be misguided with some of their efforts and need to take time learning how Jean works but they try and try and keep trying. They understand their own faults and healthy coping mechanisms and how to treat your worst enemies with respect. Hell, nearly the entirety of Jeremy's inner circle are in queer relationships with each other except for himself because he's too busy thinking about other people to work on that. This is what Jean needs to learn, that people can give without asking for anything in return. That people can be selfless and care for one another without ulterior motives. That love can be healthy and beautiful and not cruel.

And listen. I've been rooting for Jerejean for eight goddamn years. You have no idea how hard I fell when I realized that the ship that embodies the entire idea of healing, self-growth, and respect had been actualized and it's everything I ever wanted and more. The fact that Jeremy helps Jean buy his very first possession. The fact that he's so protective of Jean and thinks he's more important than exy, that Jean will be his success story. When he holds his hands and begs him to open up and backs off when Jean needs space, but never leaves and never gives up. How he spends so much time organizing people and schedules and events just so Jean can feel safe walking around campus. He never pushes too hard, but he never stops pushing. He's so patient. He wants Jean. He wants him so bad, but more than that, he wants Jean to love himself above all else. He's there when Jean has a panic attack at the pool, and sticks around as close as he can after Jean gets attacked. He stays up by the door all night when Jean goes out with Neil to an unknown location. All of this on top of revitalizing the Trojans, dealing with his shit family and the shittier rumors, having to train Jean out of killing his team and teaching his team to trust Jean in return.

Even after all of that his number one priority is always Jean, his head is filled with Jean, making the world comfortable and safe for Jean. It's making sure all of his friends know Jean. Never letting Jean be alone. Getting another twin bed so he can room with him. Always correcting himself, slowing down and speeding up so he can match Jean's pace. Fucking Barkbark. And yes, Renee could have done this too. She was the right person, and yes, the wrong time. But Jeremy found Jean at the right time, a time where he would dedicate everything to Jean. And if Jean one day turns around and wants to give that back, he'll be there, but he'll be just as happy knowing Jean is going to be okay.

ToS is a story about healing. It's about growth and battling the consequences of a life you did not choose. It's about unfairness. It's about what happens after a tragedy, and how to cope with yourself as much as you cope with the outside world. It's about becoming. It's about demons. It's about loyalty. It's about love. It's not about romance. Not yet. But it's about a romance that couldn't exist without it. It's setting up a story about someone who learns to accept that, tragically, he deserves to be treated like a human being. With love. And that he can still have it. That it's right there, waiting for him, when he's ready. He just has to reach out and take it.

[melishade]

Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Catching Up

Main Story

Reminiscing

Eren Jaeger

Negotiations

Getting an update on Arcee and how she's been.

Arcee flexed the digits of her right servo and sighed with relief, feeling the movement of her bones and pull of her joints. She stretched both arms high into the air before rotating the right arm clockwise, then counterclockwise.

"Mobility seems to be functional," Knockout remarked as he took notes on Arcee's condition, "You've gone through decontamination and the dark energon is purged. Not to mention, your finish, by yours truly, looks illustrious."

Arcee couldn't help but smile at that. "Thanks Knockout, I really appreciate it."

Knockout was a little bit startled at Arcee's attitude. "Even you've changed a little bit."

Arcee snorted. "Really?"

"Yeah, you've really mellowed out," Knockout proclaimed, "Normally, you're so high strung around former Decepticons. Now you're showing gratitude without any hesitation? My, my~."

Arcee rolled her optics in response. "Enough teasing. Now that I'm fully healed, catch me up on what's been going on."

Knockout sighed as he opened the door from Arcee's room to the hallway of the Nemesis. The former Decepticon cringed at the sight of the humans still running around and crying, begging U.S. personnel for updates on their family members.

"This has been going on for three weeks," Knockout groaned while Arcee peered under his shoulder.

"Why aren't these humans in a safer place?" Arcee demanded.

"Excuse me! Two titans coming through!" Knockout called out as he started to step over the humans. Many of them started to scramble out of the way, creating a pathway for Knockout and Arcee to easily walk through.

"It's overcrowded on Earth, so we've been housing the humans on the Nemesis so they can go through quarantine and then later get their vaccinations," Knockout explained to Arcee.

"How bad is it on Earth?" Arcee asked.

"They are severely understaffed, and I heard that one of those humans that flew around with that contraption on their waist, broke out of quarantine," Knockout added.

Arcee thought it over. Who would be dumb enough to break out of-! Arcee realized who it was and sighed in annoyance. "Was it Hanji?"

"Glasses? One optic?" Knockout pointed to his own optic with a claw.

"Yeah, that's them," Arcee groaned in defeat.

"Jack, Miko, and Raf are fine. You should probably give them a call," Knockout advised, "Especially since it's been over three years since you've last seen them."

"What else?" Arcee asked.

"Doesn't seem like the power of the titans will be returning any time soon," Knockout declared as they arrived at another door. Knockout pressed the button, and the two entered a lab. Arcee blinked in surprise, seeing Annie, Ymir, and Pieck on a high table. Pieck was seated upright, wearing braces around her body, and Ratchet was scanning her to check her vitals.

"Well, the corrections the humans have been making to you bones have been working; however, I can't make any other corrections myself without doing a little more research on the human body," Ratchet explained.

"I understand," Pieck reassured, "I would rather you be thorough than make a mistake. Although, I do wish my body healed better before the power of the titans went away." Pieck glanced over at Arcee and noticed that her right arm was reattached, "Or that I wasn't organic."

"Yes, there are perks to not being fleshy organics," Knockout agreed.

"Oh fuck you, you prick," Ymir hissed at him.

"You're okay," Annie spoke to Arcee.

Arcee clenched her right servo into a fist. "Yeah, I've made a full recovery and I'll be able to help out pretty soon."

"Knockout did a standard checkup?" Ratchet asked her.

"I am standing right here!" Knockout was insulted at the implications.

"He did a great job," Arcee praised, stunning Ratchet.

"Huh, well it wouldn't hurt to rest the extra day before Ultra Magnus calls you and gives you assignments," Ratchet explained, "It will be a while before you see the humans again, as they are going through quarantine as well."

"Speaking of, how long do we even have left?" Ymir demanded.

"One more week, then you all will be receiving vaccines, and you should be allowed to proceed normally," Ratchet answered before checking the vitals on his arm, "I need to return to Cybertron, but," Ratchet placed a servo on Arcee's shoulder, "It's good to see you again."

"Good to see you too." Arcee smiled as Ratchet let her go and left the room.

"So, how long have you been away from your world?" Pieck couldn't help but ask.

"Three years," Arcee answered as she grabbed a stool and sat down.

"Speaking of home, I'm sure you want a quick run down of things you might have missed," Knockout assumed.

"You just want to spread gossip," Arcee accused.

"I can do two things," Knockout declared.

"Alright, spill the tea," Arcee smirked.

"First things first: Predaking's little pitspawn can transform into her bipedal form now! It happened a few days after you left!" Knockout explained.

"The first Predacon we found?" Arcee asked in surprise.

"Yep. Predaking was worried that it took her so long to do it, and when she did it, he almost started crying," Knockout explained with a grin, "She picked the name 'Firelight' for herself."

"Good for her," Arcee said, "What about Autobot and Decepticon relations?"

"Steady for the most part, with a few hiccups," Knockout answered as he typed away on the screens, "Thankfully no major Decepticons returned to the planet, like Shockwave or Tarn or Overlord. I'd like to assume that they're dead but I've seen them in action. They are hard to kill."

"But there haven't been any big names trying to restart the Decepticons," Arcee assumed.

"The biggest is Starscream and he's still going through physical therapy," Knockout reminded, "He's been such a pain in the aft though. I'm the only one he'll really talk to besides Rung and all of it are just demands. I have to force him to use proper manner even though he used to be the Prince of Vos."

"I feel like Starscream will always be like this," Arcee sighed.

"Well we thought Megatron wouldn't change, but here we are," Knockout retorted.

"...I assume he's still alive," Arcee spoke up.

"And the council has no idea what to do with him," Knockout explained.

"What do you mean? I thought it would be straightforward with them," Arcee said in confusion.

"Bumblebee thought it was a good idea to use the cortical psychic patch on him and we all got whiplash just looking at Megatron's memories," Knockout declared.

"You can look into each other's memories?" Pieck spoke up, causing the two titans to look at the humans.

"Right, I forgot you were here," Knockout remarked, "You can blame Shockwave for that. He's the one who made the device to see other memories."

"Did you see the memories of Megatron tormenting me?" Annie couldn't help but seethe.

"And the memories of Megatron offering you a deal to get off this crazy planet," Knockout added, "I used to work for Megatron and Megatron would never do that for a human. The Megatron I knew would never do... any of the things we saw in those memories."

"...I still have nightmares about it," Annie retorted.

"You and everyone else," Knockout remarked with bitterness.

"So Megatron was never well liked," Pieck assumed.

"The only person who liked him and was loyal to him was Soundwave, and he's currently missing," Knockout responded.

"What about Optimus? How's his condition?" Arcee couldn't help but ask. She heard chatter and panic of Optimus being critically injured, but she still wasn't aware of the extent of it.

"Stable, but Ratchet's holding his breath," Knockout answered.

Arcee couldn't help but feel guilty about it. She had also heard that Optimus was the one who killed Eren and ended the power of the titans. If Optimus even woke up at all, how would he respond to the news that he killed Eren? Someone he considered a son?

"Arcee?" Annie called out, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"I'm fine," Arcee reassured, "It's just been a chaotic few years."

"For me it feels like a chaotic few days," Annie confessed, looking down at her wounded finger. If she still had her powers, she would have regenerated by now. But instead, it was just a nasty and painful cut that was still healing, "I can't believe my powers are gone."

"Me too," Pieck agreed.

"I'm glad it's gone," Ymir declared, "I'm not going to be a target anymore for some greedy bastards. Although, it does suck that I won't be able to breathe underwater anymore."

"It doesn't mean that the Eldians are going to be safe," Pieck retorted, "It's going to be a long road convincing the world that the Eldians are no longer a threat."

"Well that's what the experiments are for," Knockout chimed in, "We do this right, we can prove that the Eldians are no longer a threat to the population."

Knockout paused when he saw a message notification on the screen. "Odd. I'm getting a video call from Earth."

Knockout opened the message and blinked in surprise when he saw a human with one eye trying to adjust the camera.

"Hello?! Is this message going through?!" they called out.

Arcee stood up from the stool and walked over to the screen. "Hanji?!"

"Arcee!" Hanji exclaimed with delight before cackling, "It worked! Oh my god the technology here is so advanced!"

Knockout looked over at Arcee in disbelief and annoyance, but the two-wheeler shrugged.

"And I see you got your arm back! Congrats!" Hanji cheered, "Oh, who's your friend?! I don't think I've seen them before and they look really pretty!"

"I appreciate your flattery human, but I'm confused as to why you're calling the Nemesis. Or how?" Knockout replied.

"Oh wait, you're the one who brought the giant ship!" Hanji realized, "Knockout!"

"Yes, yes, in the flesh, why are you calling?" Knockout demanded.

"I bartered with the U.S. government!" Hanji shoved their face into the camera, "They want to know about the 3D gear so I thought I could make a few demands of my own, like video calls! Rafael got me to set this up even though he's mad at me because I managed to survive over a minute before getting tazed!"

Hanji took steps back to reveal the wall covered with notes, diagrams, schematics. "Feast your optics on the wall of science!"

"Well, I'm glad to see you're thriving, but what about the others?" Arcee asked, "Any updates on the humans? What about Jack, Miko, and Rafael?"

"Humans are find, no outbreaks among us thus far!" Hanji explained, "They should be done with quarantine in a week! Levi and Jean had to go through surgery, so they'll be staying in the hospital for longer! But Jean is awake!"

"How's Sasha doing?" Arcee asked, "I heard through chatter that..."

"...Managing," Hanji reluctantly answered, "But let's not talk about that right now! I have another update! Where is Annie, Ymir, and Pieck?! I heard they were with you guys!"

"Over here!" Ymir called out.

"Ymir! Good to hear from you! How have you been?!" Hanji asked.

"Well, we don't have our titan powers anymore," Ymir explained.

Hanji sighed in defeat. "Such a shame, but at the very least Historia will be happy!"

Ymir blinked in surprise at that. "Y-yeah..."

Arcee noticed Ymir's hesitance at that, but it was ignored by Hanji. "I have good news for Annie and Pieck! Falco's been transported to Earth for treatment!"

"What?!" Pieck exclaimed.

"Colt is with us in quarantine and he's been asking about his brother! So I convinced the U.S. government to grab him and try to treat him on Earth! This should increase his chances at survival!" Hanji explained with excitement.

"Oh my god, thank you!" Pieck said with a smile while Arcee sighed with relief. There could be a chance that Falco survives, and Arcee wouldn't have to live with this guilt anymore.

"No problem! Now, where's Optimus?!" Hanji demanded.

"On Cybertron getting treatment," Knockout explained.

"Shit!" Hanji swore, "Where's Buckethead?!"

"That's classified," Knockout replied. Knockout didn't like the way that Hanji was staring at them before they gave a malicious grin.

"You little liar," Hanji accused before getting into the camera once more, "Tell Buckethead I'm coming for his crusty ass!"

Knockout jolted as Hanji disconnected the call before turning to Arcee. "Should I be-!"

"Yes, you should be very concerned," Arcee cut him off.

(Be sure to vote in the Hundred Days OVA Poll, please do, that would be a huge help!)

[terrence-silver]

I thought for Halloween spooky scariness it might be fun to ask a broad question that could apply to pretty much any of TIG's characters:

"What would a nightmare starring [insert name of TIG character here] look like?"

Is it a dark noncon? A hunt through the woods? Pure unadulterated stalking? YOU DECIDE... if you want to that is!

(my top characters of love to read about are, predictably, Cash, CK Terry and Valek, but any and all you feel like writing for would be amazing!)

---

― For Jan Valek, you dream of what seems like a distant funeral pyre. Or perhaps a burning stake. You don't quite see or deduce who's tied to it and set aflame amidst the silent crowd of hoods and robes but the shape seems eerily familiar, speaking to you with a voice you know. Almost seductive. Almost lulling. Beckoning. So tender. Like an old yet loving friend's re-assuring, inviting caress. You walk past the spectators on the foggy cobblestone square the and unto the burning, blackened wood stacked up high into a colossal, looming pile without blinking or even feeling any pain. Any sensations. Whoever's there in the center of the red inferno of crackling embers embraces you with both arms as the church bells on the forum strike noon. You feel strangely at home swallowed by the flames. Maybe this isn't such a nightmare after all?

― You're buried alive. You know you are. You're awake for it. Alive, when you rightfully shouldn't. You can breathe. Experience every sensation. Every vestige of claustrophobia. The fear. You realize your muffled cries will never be heard by anyone and that you'll undoubtedly die down here, choking due to lack of air. You even realize scratching the surface of your coffin is futile. That you're not getting out of here, from the oppressive, strangulating pitch blackness. Kicking, screaming and fighting it will get you nowhere, the same way when you feel a calm, focused hand reach out from beside you a grasp your fingers, you're fully aware they're Jack's. Jack Blaylock, Timothy Calloway is in there with you. You're in here together. Trapped for all eternity. You figure, that's exactly the way he'd like it too. Wouldn't surprise you if he personally orchestrated this himself.

― With Gus Travis, you live in a house floating on the cold sea. And it's much like any other suburban, family house, really. It has a fridge, and a kitchen, a living room, a bed, carpets, decorative throw pillows on the couch and all the mundane knick knacks, commonplace any family apartment should have, making you realize nothing's amiss --- nothing at all --- as you explore the winding corridors of your abode floating on the waves, your neighbor nobody in particular but the vast expanse of water, grey, not unlike the winter coastline before the stormy tempest. You hand your husband his slippers and a beer. Maybe set him up with lunch. You wash the dishes. Clean, polish and organize them, ever so diligent. This place, it has just about everything, except a front door and a way out, you realize too late as he's fucking you up against the wall.

― Cash? Well, there's eyes in your walls and they're everywhere. In every crack. Every corner. Every hidden nook and cranny. Like an infestation of bees nesting in the skeletal scaffolding of a cellar or a basement. They don't ever blink and they're blue. The light, icy cerulean type in shade. You know they're his eyes. How could you not? They're unmistakable. You're well acquainted with them by now because they don't never go away. You also know they belong to a face and not merely floating in the abyss, but it's not a visage you ever see, hidden behind layers of concrete and bricks he's observing behind of, like a veneer. He's always there, of course. Never closes his lids to rest or take a break. Watches you dress, undress, eat, sleep, shit, piss. Your world is a quiet world. A dark world. Never disturbed. Never shaken. But, you're never alone and that frightens you.

― Oh, a nightmare starring Terry McCain is positively Kafkaesque because the world is black and white --- entirely monochromatic --- like in an old detective movie and you realize the absurdity of it all even as it unfolds and as you're being effectively questioned in what's a stereotype of every interrogation room you've ever seen. Sharp light overhead, handcuffs around your wrists, a metal table, you and the Detective asking the questions. You don't know why or when, but a fellow uniformed colleague of his comes forth carrying an entree of meals even though you've never asked for anything and he has the mannerisms of a waiter in spite of his badge and nametag. The desk of your cross examination is littered with dishes and plates and a hand lights a candle between you and McCain. Someone pours you wine. What's happening?

― You're General Taligaro's bride but that part hardly constitutes the nightmare; it's the notion your matrimonial gown of ceremony consists of all the trinkets of his conquests --- your cape is made of the sown together scalps of all the virgins of the realm, your necklace human teeth, ears hang attached off of the belt that adorned the waistline of your dress like so many pearls, your bodice a boney ribcage held together with golden string and jewels; the spoils of so many wars --- you're a gruesome sight to behold as you're led to him to complete the ritual of union and you feel just as gruesome --- demonic --- all stickiness, blood, gore, stench and carnage. The picture of all of the backstabbing, machinations and kinslaying on display as he lifts up your veil adoringly, looking at you like you're the most beautiful, ravishing creature in all the kingdoms.

― There's a telegram you couldn't open for a week now and it frustrates you to no end. It sits there on the table like a silent yet harrowing obligation you can't shake off and no matter how much you may try, the envelope refuses to rip open, it refuses to be cut, scissors are like butter against its paper yielding no result and even gnawing on it with your own teeth like an animal doesn't help. Attempting to burn it is a useless endeavor too, almost like the damn thing's fireproof. You know these are news of Terry from overseas. You can tell by the official stamping and by who's delivered it to your doorstep. You know something bad has happened. You can feel it. But, your inability to do the laughably miniscule task of actually opening it, almost as if your hands had no strength in them whatsoever kills you.

― It's the 80's and you can tell by the front row of unhinged bleached perms and sharp shoulder pads lining the perimeters. It's a bidding. An auction. The subject of interest being a live human heart on display. You. You have no body. No arms. No legs. No head. Just a heart --- a beating, fully conscious organ on a pedestal in front of a crowd of hundreds on stage. Terry Silver's right there. Of course he is. Dressed to the nines, fully in his element, like he doesn't seem to be bothered at all you lack your basic physical attributes. Even in your nightmare, you think this is a very on the nose metaphor but it doesn't make your helpless predicament any more terrifying as the auction host slams his wooden gavel against the cathedra. Going once, going twice, sold --- somehow, perhaps unsurprisingly, Terry outbid the King of Burma for you, because of course he did. You're handed over lovingly to him like something he owns. He bites into you like an d'oeuvre.

― With old man Terry, you're attending an awkward party. Everyone's artificial, everyone's putting up a front and everything's an act. The social tension is hardly the worst of it, of course. Somewhere mid-mingling, you accompany him back inside of the manor away from the gaggle of the chipper crowd and into the nearest bedroom featuring a closet of immaculately organized suits that would put a high-end catalogue to shame. For some reason, he's decided to change his attire. In watching him undress and a firm lipped, stony faced assistant helping him into a new suit you also watch him peel off his own skin and throw it aside like a fleshy, useless rag promptly collected by a manservant until your Terry's nothing but red, gaping flesh and nerve endings. He walks out like that, practically flayed with you underarm and everyone smiles. They complement the host's wonderful finger food.

[immortalbutterflycos]

I've come to realize something important in writing. (specifically in my personal experience)

(TLDR; I have ADHD and writing is hard even though I'm still doing it every single day. Make it make sense.)

If you have a story in your head that means a lot to you, and you need to take more time to develop and fully flesh it out before posting it, that's totally okay! In fact, in my experience, it has the potential to make the story better over time, really forming it into what you imagine it to be.

Here's an example because I just typed a lot of words and right now I can't seem to process whether they make sense or not.

I have a fanfic that I've been working on for a year now. (For the Marauders fandom if y'all are curious)

It's one that I haven't talked about much because every time I do, I end up losing the motivation to write. This is what happened to another one of my fics for the Haikyuu fandom. (well that and the Marauders.. yeah they fucked me up in the best way and Freckles and Constellations has really suffered because of it smh)

So the reason why this fic is taking so long is because it is such a specific AU that I'm out here trying to meld magic systems, and I've got like EIGHT MAIN CHARACTERS to write backstories for to fit this AU while also being true to them and even though I know the basic plot, there are just so many little details and aspects that will make this fic what I desperately need it to be.

And no one knows just how intricate it is or how important it is to me. Which is totally fine. I don't even know if people are going to read it when I finally manage to post it. This fic is purely self-indulgent.

let me just break down for you what I have prepared for this already:

countless drabbles and scenes and plans written on the backs of receipts and on bits of scrap paper

a 3" 3-ring binder that I've been trying to organize it all in

a google doc titled "TAoRfOL Doc Masterlist" that has links to every single doc I have for this one fic. (it's dated back to March of last year and as of this month has 93 total links. Only 5 of those are reference links.)

notes and ideas i have written in my phone to transfer into docs so I can add them to the masterlist

Hero Forge digital models of those 8 main characters because I wanted to see what their group would look like outside of my imagination

Multiple Spotify playlists dedicated to this fic and the characters which I listen to every single day. (currently @ 494 songs)

And you know what? I just recently, at 6 am this morning, finally figured out the solution to a fucking plot hole I could not work around.

Basically what I'm saying is that I needed all of this time. Every single day I see things and get inspiration. Every day I learn new things and fix errors in my own plans.

As much as I crave the validation and recognition for all of my hard work on this project, I know that If I had just bit the bullet and posted the first chapter without having done all of this research and all of this planning, then it would not have lived up to the story I have in my head.

I admire people who can just write without all of the added steps and in some cases, I can do that. I haven't been able to in a while (which is why that Valentine's Day microfic was actually really big for me to have posted) but that's just how my brain works.

I needed all of my experiences and all of my daily thoughts and all of my collective playlists for this fic to be able to write the story I intended and that is exactly what I'm going to do.

(though if I'm being honest, this timeline is rough. I really want to just write and post this first chapter so so so bad. ToT)

[thebestbooksaround]

Can you suggest some of your favourite buck breakdown fics?

Ooooo, yes of course!

Tick Tick Boom by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky (@chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky)

30k | Teen

“Did you know if you put a frog in water and slowly bring it to boiling, it won’t hop out?” Chris is chattering as Buck makes a quick dinner while Eddie argues with his gas company on the phone. He can hear the occasional swear word in Spanish as his voice raises. Eddie doesn’t like to raise his voice around Christopher – the very thought makes Buck want to kiss him full on the mouth – so he decided to take it to the living room while Chris sits with his homework in the kitchen and Buck cooks.

“Hmm?” Buck asks, unable to fully pull himself out of Bobby’s baked mac and cheese recipe. It took him years, but he finally convinced the man to write it down. Bobby’s handwriting was juvenile at best on a good day, but this was nearly unreadable. Buck wonders if he did that on purpose. “Frogs?”

“Yeah!” Chris states. “My teacher said that if you put a frog in a pot, you have to make sure it’s not immediately boiling. You put them in water and then slowly raise the temperature and they won’t realize what’s happening. Then once they realize, they have no place to go. They can’t jump out.”

*

S6 Spec: Buck decides he doesn’t need therapy, reverts to some bad habits, and explodes. Or, the Breakdown Fic

__

bro·ken by kristen999 (@thekristen999)

32k | Mature

bro·ken

adjective

1. having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.

2. having given up all hope; despairing.

Forced to take shady side jobs to pay his bills, Evan Buckley doesn’t think he’s ever seen such rock bottom. Until he meets Eddie Diaz, a man even more desperate and alone. Season 3 AU

__

crashing, i'm crashing right into you by himbobuckley (@bumble-of-the-bee)

6k | Teen

Buck gets an unfortunate call while driving and spirals before getting hit by a drunk driver. Surprise, coma!buck is real and can hear the things people (Eddie and Maddie) say while he's unconscious. Follows the struggles Buck deals with while trying to come back and the ones he has to face if he does.

6.07 spec, so the sperm donor issue is a Thing.

__

shelter my eyes from the sun (and wait for the birds to fly by) by lizzybizzyzzz (@lizzybizzyzzz)

25k | Mature

There’s always been a lingering precedent- Buck was born to save, born to die trying to at the very least. Buck couldn’t save Daniel, could barely save Chris, dragged Eddie across hot pavement under a burning fire truck, couldn't save his sister or his parents from the lifelong heartbreak of losing a child.

Buck was born to save. He’s just not too good at much else.

__

blue skies by spaceprincessem (@spaceprincessem)

36k | Teen

“Most babies are born as accidents,” She says suddenly, like she’s decided that Buck has passed, that she can trust him with this.

Buck doesn’t really have an answer because that question hits way to fucking close to home. A year or so ago he would have said, yes, I was an accident, so I know how that goes, but Buck knows better now. Knows that he would almost give anything for that answer to still be yes. Evie’s finger works under the seal to rip it open, a stack of important looking papers dumping out onto the table in front of her.

“Not me,” she says without looking up as she organizes them into a neat stack, “I was engineered.”

And.

And Buck’s pretty fucking sure a giant, cataclysmic hole has ripped right open, dragging him down to the earth’s core where he vaporizes into dust.

__

a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things

11k | Not Rated

Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.

But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”

—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—

So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence

__

this is me trying (at least i'm trying) by screaminghalfpastmidnight (@screaminghalfpastmidnight)

15k | Teen

Buck nods against his pillow, remaining silent before Eddie whispers, “Do I have to be worried about you?”

“No.” Buck mumbles. “I’ll be back at work on Thursday. I just needed a day.”

“Do you promise?” Eddie says, and Buck knows he’s not referring to his comment about work.

“Promise.” You don’t have to be worried about me.

__

burn the straw house down by rarakiplin (@hoediaz)

40k | Mature

“Why the fuck are you even in this loop? This day isn’t about you.”

“Well, I die,” Eddie comments idly, not sounding as offended as he maybe should be. “Haven’t you heard? I’m always dying.”

“That’s not funny.”

Eddie shrugs, not really agreeing or disagreeing. It’s a few seconds before he says, eyes still closed, “Maybe I’m here so you’re not alone.”

-

or, buck gets stuck in time, has a break down and then, relatedly, a break through

[twinkle-art]

would you ever be in the mood to elaborate on what your emet/WOL dynamic is like? the bits you've posted have me curious

(gripping my thighs so hard i draw blood) yeah i don’t see why not

so as i’ve previously outlined, my particular brand of emetwol (platonic) hinges on the fact that he reminds andromeda of her mother. like. a lot. 

i’ve gotten so deep in here that i’ve grown wholly desensitized to this premise and it’s not weird to me anymore so we will be moving right along

(fig a- silly joke i made early into shb before i knew how dark this was going to get)

the crux of their relationship, to me, is that they are two people who flatly, abjectly refuse to truly see each other past their respective projections for nearly their entire time together, and this renders the very intense emotions they evoke in each other all the more corrosive to them. the exact emotions they even have towards each other are also… nebulous and hard to define, but they’re definitely bad. well. mostly bad. it’s complicated. 

This… might seem like a strange angle to take for someone who is pretty transparently sympathetic to emet-selch outside of all the atrocities but it’s definitely worth noting that andromeda’s difficulties holding him in her mind as a purely evil person despite her best efforts do not come from a belief that he is, in fact, secretly a good guy or anything. It’s first and foremost because she has a psyche that was shaped by an abusive upbringing, uncomfortable as that is. 

Without dwelling… too much on the details because this is quite heavy and I prefer keeping it tastefully vague (after this aspect of her character emerged shockingly organically as a frankly very obvious explanation for a LOT of her personality) her home life as a bastard child in garlemald was Bad. her step-family was bad. her mother had good intentions but was simply not there when she needed her. and all of this left her as an adult who is, frankly, pretty easy to manipulate if you prey on her bottomless, ravenous hunger for love and recognition… or the fact that she is just straight-up conditioned to respond to a particular flavor of authoritative influence. it is nothing short of a miracle that the scions found her first. 

i’m saying she’s dog-coded. is what i’m saying. you get it. 

(there IS also the whole.. uh. garlean fascism aspect. I don’t think i need to spell out why that’s relevant to her relationship with the guy behind the god-emperor she grew up being expected to revere)

NOW. as the arbiter of this reality, it’s not my read of emet-selch’s character that he enjoys doing any of this shit- him inevitably taking advantage of this glaringly obvious weak point is a wholly pragmatic move that ultimately contributes to the fact that she’s unwittingly making him nearly as miserable as he’s making her. Like, once he realizes what’s going on I fully believe he’d feel kind of dirty about it (never mind that this is a shard of azem he’s psychologically tormenting more than is strictly necessary. the man is sentimental) (also he thinks the mom stuff is fucking weird)

this doesn’t stop him tho. lol

a quick aside on azem and emet’s relationship since that’s never not relevant to these; they were very close, I hesitate to say overtly sibling-like since i think that’s a kind of an easy oversimplification, but the type of love they felt for each other was definitely more of a familial one than anything else. she trusted him more than anyone else, and he loved her fiercely and unconditionally, even if their day-to-day dynamic involved taking the piss out of each other constantly, and the fact that the last time he ever saw her involved a blow-out screaming match between them has not sat well with him these 12,000 years. 

And so, they each project these warped reflections of people they love and resent in equal measure onto each other- andromeda with the mother she never expects to see again, emet with the friend he can’t let himself admit he’ll never see again- and it makes their presence both painful and comforting. their unwillingness to detangle themselves because of that extremely twisted feeling of nostalgic comfort borders on emotional self harm honestly. 

and that’s before factoring in that they’re championing opposite sides of a world-defining conflict

with her canon-divergent stint in amaurot that i swear i’m going to fully flesh out in art someday, no seriously, i mean it this time, the bubbling Weird Vibes that accrued any time they were left alone during shb come crashing down all at once and it is brutal. as she slowly loses her grip on reality (to the point where even she’s not certain what really happened that week and what was a hallucination, in retrospect) his mask also begins to slip, as the tiny part of him that so badly wants to believe he can get through to her gets louder and he decides that she’s not even lucid enough to warrant keeping up the act. despite his best efforts i do think this forces him to confront andromeda as Andromeda, not just as Thee Warrior Of Light or as 8/14th of his dead bestie

anyways it probably gets to the point where he’s fully trauma dumping on her while she’s half-consciously lying in his lap wondering why her mom’s calling her perseus before the scions bust in to collect her. you know, really normal stuff

ultimately andromeda takes his death at her hands hard for… a number of reasons (and as i’ve previously touched on, feels bad and weird about the fact that she’s taking it hard at all) the largest of which being that she simply had not parsed how she felt about him beforehand, and was left to sift through a LOT of intense shit tied up in some really fuckin sensitive parts of her psyche for the first time in her adult life all while knowing meaningful closure was out of reach. it sucked. 

their surprise reunion in elpis was… both helpful and not to this end, on account of being extremely one-sided. much like emet did to her in the days leading up to his death, she only comes to finally understand him by observing him in this unguarded, regressed state- even if she is now a total stranger to him. 

(hades found her.. unnerving, to say the least. she didn’t do a very good job leaving their Whole Thing out of her recounting of his future and he can’t deny that how obviously deeply affected andromeda still is by that gnaws at him even while he tries to reject it as total bullshit. it gets a bit lost in all the noise but he finds the thought that he’d do that to her a little stomach-churning)

i don’t know if i’d really call it cathartic but at least she can see him as a full person without it physically paining her now. that counts as progress

thank you for coming to my talk. here’s their playlist and here’s a drawing i did of them as dgs kitty mascots. i turned it into a cutesy phone background for myself. no i’m not sure what’s wrong with me either 

[bonetrousledbones]

question can you infodump about your Little Guys (atbb) to me because ive been following for like a year and i still dont totally understand them past papyrus au. they are really cool tho

oh my god ok so. first off atbb is the acronym for my ask blog @ask-the-bone-boys that's been on hiatus for a little over a year now. it was born in 2018 out of the annoyance of everything au-centered being sans and also a way to explore how the classic "aus get stuck in the original universe" fic trope would go if it was somebody from the "original" story leaving their universe instead. and also an excuse to make papyrus miserable to be fully honest

also also im going to preface this by saying i ship selfcest and there is some selfcest in this story ok if anybody has issue with that then uh. oopsies (i can explain the way i view it at another time if anybody;s interested but im already gonna ramble like hell here so not rn)

with that groundwork laid im gonna put this under a cut lmao dont click this

for the sake of organization- part 1: RUSS

STARTING AT THE BEGINNING so some very basic backstory for this Undertale Papyrus specifically is that he and his brother are twins, they grew up bouncing around several foster homes until they decided to run away to live in the woods on their 14th birthday, where they lived in a bigass tent for three years until Papyrus got badly injured and they had to get help from the townspeople, who uh kinda unofficially adopted them and thats how "they just showed up one day"

then more time passed and around 3 years after getting to the surface Papyrus was booted out of his universe by Mysterious Circumstances. he got a very bad introduction to the multiverse because the place he landed was my own version of horrortale, undermunch. there he meets Spooks!

i have a whole side-fic where you can read in better detail how this goes but basically monsters don't turn to dust in this world and also Spooks is a cannibal, which Papyrus doesn't know until he realizes he was fed spaghetti made out of a rabbit monster. IN addition to that, Spooks has very different magic from other aus, that being it's pretty much all concentrated into a kind of blue-magic-venom that comes out of his teeth like a snake.

Long story short Papyrus has to escape from Spooks somehow, and that's how he learns he's able to move through universes by himself. It still takes him a while to learn how to without being in a life-or-death situation, but that's ok because almost every other universe he goes to after that puts him into a life-or-death situation :>

and then FINALLY he gets spat out into a variation of Underswap, where he meets Honey. this one's a bit spoilery because i haven't finished writing this fic yet BUT its ok because this will be so so so disorganized. anyway so Papyrus is scared of Honey at first because he's been getting completely fucking obliterated by the multiverse (his leg is broken and he's wearing a chest plate he stole from a different papyrus who died in front of him) but Honey is relatively patient with him and lets him stay on his couch on the surface. This is where Papyrus gets the nickname Russ!

Russ is dealing with a broken leg when he shows up in this universe, so he stays with Honey for a little over three months while he recovers from that as well as (some of) the multiverse traumas he'd been collecting up to that point. The main things that he still can't shake are nightmares, trust/attachment issues, and EXTREME food paranoia. he refuses to eat anything he hasn't prepared himself, and even that can be a struggle. Also, because of how long he spent without getting it properly treated, his leg never fully heals.

He starts getting really really homesick the longer he stays in this universe. It builds up over his whole stay, but only starts to get Very Bad after he gets the cast off of his leg. Honey's home is extremely similar to his own home, and sometimes just seeing him and his brother interacting with each other makes Russ upset.

OH I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT THE CODEPENDENCY ok so at some point Russ just starts completely clinging to Honey and Honey doesn't know what to do about it so he just kinda. unintentionally feeds into it and this turns into Russ sleeping in Honey's bed and blah blah blah eventually this becomes a problem for Honey because he doesn't know how to address Russ's homesickness and clinginess without hurting him somehow even though Honey is extremely stressed and actively burning out

Then Russ overhears Honey venting to Undyne and feels. crushed. And he reacts incredibly rationally! By avoiding Honey as much as possible! But it does not take him long at all to break down and the two finally have a chat about boundaries. They work out a plan together that Honey thinks will genuinely help and Russ thinks will get himself off of Honey's back. The plan is that they'll figure out how to control Russ's world-hopping ability and get him back home.

The idea is that if he's able to control when and how he leaves, he can control where he goes. Then, when he inevitably lands in his home, he'll pop back in Underswap and tell Honey how it went. Because he can control it! Of course!

Honey gives him one of his hoodies and a photo camera to remember him by. Russ tries to figure out what it was in the past that might have helped him jump universes, which was the desire to be just about anywhere other than where he was at that moment. So, he just, thought about going home instead!

And it worked! And he left Honey's universe! And then he realized he didn't land at his home at all! And when he tried to go back to Honey's universe, he went somewhere entirely different as well! And he never saw Honey again! Wahoo!

This is the point where he just becomes a complete mess I'm not gonna lie to you, he starts drinking even though he really really REALLY hates alcohol, he only eats enough to stay conscious, he gets into fights just for the adrenaline rush, and only stays in one universe long enough to confirm it's not his home before either leaving for the next one or collapsing somewhere and hoping he doesn't get attacked while he sleeps for two hours

then he lands in Edge's universe and this needs a part two now OOPS

[carlsdarling]

Forlorn Hope

This is a slow-burn Carl x OC, so, don't like, don't read ;-) I decided to post it, as I started writing it a while ago and I am not writing anything new atm. It's about Sadie, a girl who is found by Carl in the woods and he brings her to Alexandria. Everyone is 18 or older.

WARNINGS: angst, violence, mention of rape, later on: nsfw, smut

In the forest, beyond the halo of light from the small campfire, there was a crack and Sadie flinched. Her tension eased as a deer stepped out of the thicket, eyed her ruminantly, then disappeared. “Damn,” she muttered. Her heart was racing.

Sadie Baron wasn't particularly brave, never had been. She had been ten years old when the outburst came. Almost, at least - she was fully occupied with planning her birthday party, who she wanted to invite and who she didn't, who was allowed to sit next to whom, what icing the cake should have and what kind of party games she wanted to organize. The party never happened.

She thought about how long it had all been and came to the shocking realization that it must have been about eight years. Since the outbreak, she had lost all sense of time; everything that went beyond the mindless sequence of day and night overwhelmed her, blurred into a single mush, even the change of seasons hardly helped. But she thought she could remember eight winters; right now it was summer, and her birthday was on the sixth of June. She was usually too busy surviving to think about trivial things like her age and how many birthdays she had missed. Still, the thought that she had (probably? actually?) come of age without even realizing it made her sad.

This hadn't been what Sadie had imagined. Not that, as a ten-year-old, she'd had any concrete idea of how she wanted to celebrate her eighteenth - her knowledge of what it was like to be 'grown up' was drawn mainly from the existence of Laurie, her nineteen-year-old half-sister. So Sadie's fantasies included things like glittery eyeshadow, having her own car - preferably a pink one! - drinking colorful liquids that made you funny, and secretly puffing on weird-looking, hand-rolled cigarettes. Freedom. And staying up as late as you wanted.

Definitely not this. Alone, filthy, hungry and thirsty (no, half-parched, to be precise), huddled in a forest, leaning against a rugged tree trunk, while she had completely lost her sense of direction - as always. The map she'd stolen from a gas station after she'd managed to dupe Mike and get rid of him didn't help her much - which wasn't the map's fault, of course, but Sadie's own, of that she was aware.

Fuck freedom. She simply wasn't made for this new world, daughter of a wealthy family that she was, with a huge room that offered every comfort and two ponies she owned, with which she had competed in equestrian jumping competitions. This is no place for princesses, Sadie thought bitterly, looking at her torn, bloody fingernails. Unintentionally, Laurie's beautifully painted nails stood before her eyes and she swallowed. Laurie. She didn't want to think about her sister, about her parents, no. Not about what had happened, how they had ended up, how Sadie had had to flee alone, two days before her long-awaited birthday party with a giant bouncy castle and a magician's performance.

She had to put it all out of her mind or she wouldn't be able to go on; she hadn't seen much point in her life for some time anyway. On the run, mostly alone, she had either lost her companions or had had to leave them for various reasons. She no longer had a firearm; near the petrol station she had come across two sinister types who had given her a choice: either she gave them everything she owned voluntarily or they would take it anyway and rape her as well. “Pretty little blonde bird,” one of them had said greedily, undressing her with his eyes. She had no chance, she realized, so she had thrown all her belongings onto the road and run, just run, into the forest while branches whipped her in the face. And now she had nothing left, nothing but the clothes she was wearing. Her backpack with the last photos of her family and her beloved animals, and the gun in it - gone.

Sadie was miserably cold and wanted to cry. The nights were freezing and the hoodie had been in her rucksack. At least she still had her knife, it was in her belt, which was better than nothing. She moved closer to the fire, discovered a tick on her left wrist and removed it without any emotion. The old Sadie, the Sadie from the mansion district with the swimming pools, the Sadie with her ponies, that Sadie would have freaked out. But the new world really wasn't for princesses, and Princess Sadie no longer existed.

Now there was the Sadie who was almost dying of thirst, whose long hair was greasy and matted and twisted into a messy knot, and who hadn't slept for three nights and was wondering whether she could dare to close her eyes for a moment here in the forest. The risks were manageable: she could be attacked and abducted. Or she could be eaten alive.

Not a great prospect, but she was shaky from lack of sleep and could hardly look out of her eyes. She had no other choice - she had to sleep, so she scratched a kind of hollow in the leaves where she intended to hide. Her head jerked upwards and she looked anxiously in all directions. Those had been footsteps, clearly. Walker or human?

Adrenaline shot through her veins and she gripped the knife. “Who's there?” she called out, and it sounded braver than she felt. No answer, the forest lay still. At least that spoke against walkers, as they kept on trampling mindlessly, usually making stupid sounds as well. Humans were not necessarily the better alternative, Sadie had learned that painfully. “Get lost, whoever you are,” she shouted, hoping it was only one. Maybe the guys from the gas station had followed her. “I'm armed!” she shrieked when nothing happened.

“Only with a knife,” a casual voice was heard, then the bushes parted to reveal a slender, tall figure. Sadie recognized a young man with messy, long brown hair. His outfit was strange - one of his eyes was hidden behind some kind of gauze bandage, and he was wearing a sheriff's hat.

“And I can actually handle this,” Sadie growled, holding the knife out in front of her. “So back off!” She realized that her situation was hopeless - unlike her, this guy had a gun. But she couldn't just give up either.

“I don't want to hurt you,” the stranger claimed. “My name is Carl, by the way,” he told her. “And yours?”

What the hell business was that of his? “Rumpelstiltskin,” Sadie hissed, not taking her eyes off him. “Don't come any closer.”

He raised his hands placatingly; Sadie's behavior seemed to amuse him. “All right, Rumpelstiltskin, I'll stay right where I am, okay? Maybe we can talk.” She just stared at him, her eyes wide with panic in that dirty pretty face. He registered her chapped, rough lips. “Are you thirsty?” He didn't wait for her response, but tossed a small water bottle over to her.

Sadie had been searching in vain for water for over a day, her tongue parched in her mouth, and now her thirst was so enormous that she promptly dropped the knife and lunged for the bottle. She hastily unscrewed it and poured the contents down her throat so quickly that she began to cough. The water velvety wetted her throat, which already felt like sandpaper. It was about time. She wanted to back away when she realized that Carl had come closer. “I told you, I don't want to hurt you,” he assured her gently. “Are you hungry too?” Sadie nodded miserably and he handed her an egg and ham sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil. He sat down next to her at a little distance and watched her eat. “Actually, I'm looking for someone else,” he then said. “Maybe you've seen her?”

--

(if someone wants to be tagged for this, please comment)

[henghost]

Twig Liveblog for Arc 13

aaaaaa ‼️‼️‼️ idk if i've metabolized my thoughts enough to be fully coherent about them but i feel like i'll burn alive if i don't get them out, so:

it's like, after 3.1-10: "oh this is fun! a little cat and mouse game with the lambs." then after 3.11: "i am ready to commit grievous acts of violence." the earlier chapters are nonetheless worth discussing as without them there could not be such a "devastating" fifth-act catastrophe. particularly the communication experiments fascinated me. what a perfect metaphor! what if a radio could feel fear? what if a a radio could feel love? might we not also ask--what if a weapon could feel horny?

of course the lillian perspective deserves special attention as well. even before she says so explicitly, we understand that she is "ruined." there is her drug use, her physiological response to even the smallest mention of sy. this is perhaps the anatomical effect of being so close as the lambs, who are essentially a single organism: losing one, especially the one to whom you were closest, is like cutting off a limb. poor girl! like the rest of them she's wrapped up in shit too vast to possibly understand much less overcome.

helen is also going through it :( maybe she'll be the next one to join sy... mary's perspective is also quite rough--this is when i realized that this sy guy is on a level of psychosis i hadn't really considered before lmao.

and then at last there's That Scene with lillian, which reads at first like some kind of fanfiction--some kind of fanfiction lillian herself might have written--complete with typically teenaged overdetail, melodramatic descriptions of flushes, body heat, etc., till finally there's a sort of "surrealist coup," we realize we are too deep in sy's subjectivity to understand the reality of the situation, there's a break, we are lost.

it's all just so (say the line, henghost!) freudian... one of freud's most correct insights is that eros permeates all aspects of life, and therefore that to deny, suppress, or compartmentalize it cannot achieve anything but to make it sick, make the host neurotic. for example, instead of simply fucking your best friend who's clearly into you, you might design an obscenely elaborate rube goldberg type contraption throughout a monument to your darkest trauma (that psychotic fucking carnival orphanage lmao) in order to "win" your ex back. it is wrong, therefore, though understandable, to say that sy has "castrated himself"--it would be more accurate to say that wyvern has his dick twisted up in knots while he's still trying to get hard, poor guy. (by the way, i really have to write something about how wyvern is an allegory for ssri's lol.)

i won't even broach the moral ambiguity, though i'm sure there's something interesting to be said about it--for me, it's like asking about the morality of a withered tree or oedipus rex. and it really is that sophoclean: it was doomed to happened; it was fate. it is written into jamie's dna. sy is a gun who wants, and a gun cannot help but fire. libido is the engine pushing us down a railway designed at best by deus sive natura or at worst by the Academy. i feel fucking sick to my stomach!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nonetheless, i found it life-affirming. it's pessimistic, yes, but it's a pessimism of strength.

anyway, i've gotta give kudos to the author. for all the (deserved) shit i've given him, the wildbow of twig is clearly a far more mature writer than the wildbow of worm.

i must also--since this the last recorded arc for the audiobook!!--shoutout kim dauber, who provided professional-level audibook-reading for free!!! it's possible my reading will slow down without it :(

[pinene]

Would you elaborate on the shame thing? I feel like it’s so fucking true and I didn’t even realize that like since I’ve addressed my own shame I have been able to start getting my life actually together :p

I genuinely need to write an essay about this, but so much of us harbor an incredible amount of shame, and use it as a punishment to replace consequences, preventing us from ever learning. If you notice how dirty your room is, you feel deeply ashamed of it, and that bad feeling seems to “count”. As long as you feel bad about failing, it’s okay that you failed. This rots us out from the inside.

rather than approach problems pragmatically, we approach them from how to avoid shame. It’s never “what functionally needs to be done to tidy up my space?”, but rather “Okay I’m gonna clean my ENTIRE room tomorrow so I stop feeling bad about it” and then rinse and repeat, always failing to meet the goal, taking out more “shame debt” as I call it to pay for failure. Shame feels bad. Shame is the fear of losing connection. To yourself, to others. If you feel shame every time you are honest (eg “my room is messy”), you will start to lie to yourself to avoid it. You will think “I’m a neat person who has a temporarily messy room”, “I’m an organized person who’s fallen out of practice”, “I’m an employed person who’s gonna get a job any day now”, “I’m a person who wakes up early but has been failing to, better set my alarm for 9am every morning even though I don’t ever wake up from it”.

This is deeply problematic for a couple reasons. First of all, dishonesty prevents progress. People think without shame, nobody can improve, but that’s bullshit. It’s the opposite. The first step to achieving a goal is knowing where you currently are relative to it. But if admitting where you currently are brings you a deep amount of shame, you simply never will. Second of all, if you are dishonest with yourself, you will never feel successful. If you think that you’re a person with a clean room without a clean room, then you will constantly feel dissatisfied— and when you DO finally snap and clean your room from a place of shame.. you can’t be satisfied. Because there’s no fulfillment in being exactly where you expect yourself to be.

So life becomes drab. There’s no point to anything. You don’t feel a connection to your space, there’s no zest. You think only about how you’ve failed, how to keep side-stepping shame, never how to grow, how to get what you want, how to deeply, fully consent to experiencing your own life. “Free time” aka chilling and sitting around in the bullseye of your comfort zone becomes paramount, because you don’t know how to accomplish things without feeling badly about yourself. If your goal in life is to avoid shame, you can’t really live. Hard things become impossible, because you will hate yourself if you don’t complete them, and even if you do, you’ll hate yourself for how hard it was.

There is a very sneaky self-loathing that I don’t see anyone talking about, that I struggle(d) with a lot, where your self esteem may be average or even high. You might think you’re hot, smart, funny. But at the end of the day, you are still competing for your own love. You withhold it. You think that you should do better to earn it. You only have love for a hypothetical, better version for yourself.

The only way out is radical self love. To love someone is to be invested in their journey in a positive way. Invest in yourself. Even the parts of yourself you don’t like. Especially them. They need the most love. You need to be honest with yourself. Your room is dirty because you have been making it that way, and have failed to clean it. That’s okay. That’s who you currently are. And that person still deserves love.

Love, for yourself, and for others, is never “earned”. It’s discovered. Through conversation, touch, collaboration, etc. You have discovered more about yourself than anyone else, I’d imagine. So where’s that love?

TLDR; kill the cop in your head, stop practicing a psychological microcosm of capitalism with an economy of shame. Love yourself and others unconditionally, even and especially when they don’t meet the mark