#I’m trying not to spiral or worry too much because anxiety definitely makes me feel worse lol

[unintentional-sad-wizard]

Worried that my health stuff might be acting up again augh

[royalbilliards]

i would LOVE to hear your opinion on maruki's therapy bc i see a lot of ppl saying he sucked as a therapist and i've never seen one so i can't really say anything with certainty...... but idk, i want joker to have at least an okay therapist just because it's a nice touch. also i think it's more satisfying narratively when maruki is someone joker can lean on for support and get attached to, but then has to oppose because shitty actualization. idk. pathetic wet man makes me go brrrrrr

Welcome to the autism zone.

So a lot of my thoughts on maruki’s therapy comes from my own experiences with a therapist in the past (I’m trying to get a new one right now) but. A lot of what Maruki’s ‘confidant perks’ and what they’re called suggest he’s giving Joker treatment for anxiety and depression, which makes a lot of sense given the way he acts in public outside of the joker persona, and the situation he’s in at Shujin (being bullied, for lack of a better term because it’s 5 am and I just woke up, and ostracised due to Kamoshida spilling his criminal record).

Practices like mindfulness and wakefulness sound like bullshit when you first have to start them, mostly because of the names, but the practices themselves are grounding techniques, being able to be present in your body, aware of your surroundings, and not letting yourself spiral via panic or depression and stuff. Detox is a term for drug addiction and alcoholism rehab, they’re not exactly practices we know Joker needs help with, but they’re most likely preventative measures, so that he doesn’t go Down those paths BECAUSE of his situation, which honestly makes sense, depression, anxiety, bullying from peers and the rest of it, including his criminal record and the way Japan treats students with criminal records, it makes sense that Joker could have easily gone down those routes if he didn’t have his friends and the metaverse to blow off steam and have an outlet for his emotions that he isn’t allowed to have in his day to day life. Flow is also a form of therapy treatment for handling depression, and mostly focus’ on capturing moments of positive mental states and allowing yourself to be completely focused and involved in Enjoyable activities that make you happy.

Because all of these therapy treatments that we get named from his confidant perks are Real therapy treatments that both Work and are widely used to treat specific mental health problems (Depression, Anxiety and Self-worth) we get both an insight into how Joker is actually feeling about things outside of what he shows and how useful these techniques are in his actual day to day life, because he’s using them to handle stressful situations in the metaverse.

There’s also the fact that Before everything, and AFTER everything, Joker doesn’t seem to hold much animosity towards Maruki, yes Akechi does and he’s Totally allowed to hate him, but neither Yoshizawa or Joker do, when Yoshizawa is more than justified in being angry and frustrated with him. And it might just be due to the abysmal lack of characterisation Yoshizawa gets, but mostly she seems like she too, like Joker, WANTS to help him, because we know that Maruki himself struggles with Self-worth problems, delusions of grandeur, a messiah complex (in both definitions of the term) anxiety and depression (along with a few other spicier things I don’t feel like mentioning because I’d need to bring up the psa’s on how demonised disorders need to be treated with respect since no one can do that on the internet). But there doesn’t seem to Be animosity between the three of them. Mostly just worry about someone they both cared about, and trusted.

There’s also the fact that, Jokers interactions with Maruki do not End After you help him with his research, we’re just cut off from the interaction at that point, because Joker in canon is explaining to Sae other more important things, he probably doesn’t feel the need to tell her the confidential therapy treatment he’s receiving at school. Their interaction continues, we get a fade to black, so it’s obvious he is getting actual therapy treatment, but Maruki has probably picked up on Jokers earth shattering savior complex and is easing him into the idea of therapeutic treatment by having him assist in his research, so Joker is more inclined to accept the help, since it’s a Transaction to Joker. If Maruki had more time to be Jokers therapist, and I assume he would have at some point Offered to continue his work as Jokers therapist after his tenure at Shujin ending, he would have eventually been able to work on that with Joker, and weaned him off Needing to help people all the time, and viewing social interactions as a transactional thing.

Anyways, yeah, I don’t think Maruki is a bad therapist outside of the horrors, I think people just don’t think about it because it isn’t spoon fed to them in a social link interaction, which is where the assumption that he’s Only using Joker as a sounding board comes from. But what would I know I just did media studies and have a special interest in analysing media, SHRUG

[66sharkteeth]

idk what that person was on about your art being mediocre. I've read a lot of webcomics. a lot. from the "greats" of webtoon, to a ton of canvas stories, to Tapas, to Hiveworks and out of all the ones I've read, I consider City of Blank to be my absolute favorite. I'm sorry I can't be more than one person, one fan. I don't have a ton of friends but I've shared CoB with all of them. I've fast passed episodes, subbed to your patreon, commented stuff I like in most episodes, because I wanted to show as much support as I can. Knowing thats not enough is crushing. But I'm just one person and idk what I can do to help more. I love CoB, not because of itself, but you made it. You made it in a way nobody else could have. It's so special. It's inspired me to create. If it comes out on physical, I'd buy it instantly. I don't want to pressure or upset you. Just please, if you have even the smallest chance, don't give up, ok? The talent in your work shows. I've seen plenty of mediocre work, and CoB is not one of them.

When CoB is over, I want to see what you create next. I want to support you in your future art and I'm sure many others do too and are just nervous to say it. i'm worried even typing this that I'll just make it worse. I hope I'm not making this worse. I'm not sure what else to say but please take care of yourself at least. I know you've said if you disappeared nobody would care, but I would. I don't know you personally but I would care, as much as I'm able to.

I got a few asks like this last night but I wanted to respond to this one and apologize again. The last thing I want is for my readers to feel like they aren’t doing enough. In a more clear headed hindsight, I can see how spirals like that can make you feel that way.

Even just reading my dumb comic is enough. The fact that some of you do even more than that is more than enough. I’m so lucky to have as many readers as I do and I know it probably comes off like I take them for granted sometimes. But I am so so so so grateful. So many of my dreams have come true bc of readers like you.

I just have some really personal struggles with my definition of success and a bit of a complex about being unimportant. It’s something that’s completely on me, not my readers, and something that I’m regularly battling with. Sometimes I think it’s getting better but I clearly have lapses like last night where all the reassurance I’ve built up still gets overtaken by the negativity I’m always trying to hold back. I guess to put it bluntly- depression and anxiety suck. I’m always working on keeping them at bay, but on the nights that I lose that fight, I’m so sorry it if I ever made you guys feel like you aren’t doing enough. You are- more than enough. My brain is just really stupid.

[waterfallofspace]

Cute As A Kitten.

The one in which T/amaki has kitten sneezes because of a kitten, but the sweetheart just can’t seem to leave it behind. Feat. worried/caretaker M/irio, and GUEST STARRING E/rasermic at the end!! (gotta love a touch of them in, well, anything I can!) Also M/iriTami is not confirmed, but can definitely be implied if you choose to read it that way~ 

MAIN CHARACTERS ARE 18+! This is when T/amaki and M/irio are Pro-Heroes, working out of the same agency. (A/izawa still calls them ‘kid’, but that’s just his thing, all his former UA students are ‘kid’ to him, they are not actual children). Since this is my first time posting/writing aged up stuff, if anyone wants to ask me about why I feel it’s okay, feel free to message me, I’d be happy to explain how I see it~~ For now, I’ll just leave it at: I will never write underage characters as underage, or characters who are SPECIFICALLY meant to act/look like little kids when they aren’t ‘technically’. But aged up is something I am okay writing. ANYWAYS! That out of the way, hope anyone who bothers to read this enjoys, I just adore T/amaki (and there’s not enough content of my guy) so I am givin’ him a story!! First time attempting them, so might be a bit rough still~ Thank you so much to anyone who reads!! (and EXTRA THANKS to anyone who reblogs/comments/tags, I read them all and they make my DAY every single time~~) ((References to anxiety disorder/social anxiety (including thinking patterns/spiraling), mild violence, wheezing, and injury, incase anyone doesn’t like any of those!))  Characters: T/amaki, M/irio, a dash of A/izawa and M/ic, & the most adorable kitten (aside from T/amaki~) Word Count: 4.2k

~~~~~~~ “Suneater, over here! Don’t let him get away!” Tamaki spins on his heel, Mirio’s voice echoing from behind him, down an alley he had just found his way out of. Seeing the villain running towards him, Tamaki let his tentacles climb out, one grabbing him by the leg. “Not so fast, I won’t be taken down that easily by an octopus man!” A wince escapes between Tamaki’s gritted teeth, only half from the shooting pain as the villain in his grasp shoots a knife from his hand, right into the tentacle, and through to Tamaki’s arm. “Lemillion…” It’s strangled, at best, but still a yell, and more than enough for Mirio to act on, rising up from the ground and knocking the villain back into Tamaki’s waiting grasp. Clapping him on the arm, and pausing to chuckle as the action nearly knocks him over, Mirio offers a bright smile. “Nice teamwork, and hey! You even managed to call out for help! I could hear you all the way from the alley, that’s a real improvement since last time!” Tamaki pulls his hood a little further down, handcuffing the villain and handing him over to the other pro’s that had arrived on the scene. They offer thanks, and Mirio responds in kind, signature smile painted over his features once more. Tamaki can’t help but stare, still captivated after all these years by the light that seems to shine from his eyes. “Psst, Suneater, give ‘em a smile!” “I don’t think they want that…” Despite the hesitance, Tamaki can’t help but notice a group of bystanders staring, one of them a girl that can’t be much older then Eri was when he first met her. The memories flash through his brain of Mirio giving her a smile, and the way her face lit up in the afterglow. ‘I’m no Lemillion… but maybe… maybe I can give her a little bit of brightness too… I should probably try, if nothing else…’  The smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and his hands are shaking more than he’d care to admit, but all of that melts away when the little girl squeals, bouncing on her tiptoes, and waving frantically. Tamaki waves back, letting his hood slip a little further back as the sun from her eyes starts to fill him with warmth. ‘Is this… what Mirio feels all the time…? No… it wouldn’t be… he’s so much brighter then I could ever hope for. This is nothing, she’s just excited to see a hero, it doesn’t matter that it’s me…’  “Tama- I mean Suneater, look at that!? You’re a natural!” Mirio’s voice pulls him out of his spiral, eliciting a blush as Tamaki realizes he’s still waving, followed by a low whine at the pain still throbbing in his arm. “I should probably get this stitched up… c- can we go home…?” “Right, sure thing! We’ll head back to the agency first though to finish up the paperwork for this case. Unless… are you gonna make it through that?” Tamaki lets a muted smile pass over his features at the concern evident in Mirio’s voice. “I’m okay, it’s not deep. I just… want to get out of here… and uh… m- maybe take a back route…? I uh… I just-” “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it to me. You did really well today, we can end on a high note! I mean hey, you waved to that little girl, and did you see the way her face lit up? You really did shine today~!” “T- thanks… Ijustwannagohome…”  The laughter is sweet and loud, full of unabashed sunshine. Full of Mirio. Full of something Tamaki could never quite get himself to feel. Wandering into the back alleys to avoid the crowd, the heroes start to find their way back to the agency. They walk for almost 30 minutes, until Tamaki suddenly stops, Mirio nearly crashing into him. “Woah, sorry, wasn’t watchi- what’s with that look? Is something wrong?” Tamaki holds a hand up to silence Mirio, every hair on his neck standing on end. ‘There was a noise… maybe the villain had a partner… what if they’re coming back to attack us for catching their friend… I did okay with the first one, but I’m injured, I’m gonna be even more usel-’ “Tamaki, look!” Mirio’s face is lit once more, pointing towards a trashcan to their left. Tamaki turns to investigate, a warm pit starting to form in his gut as he sees what’s waiting for them. A kitten, half buried in the can, shivering from the cold. It lets out another pathetic meeww~ before Mirio rushes over and scoops it up. “Aw, is this what you heard? Look at her- oh, him, scuse me! He’s such a cute little thing, you wanna hold him?” Tamaki lets the kitten be passed into his arms, shuddering slightly at the sudden weight of responsibility that seems to have found its home on his shoulders. And yet… looking down at the kitten, purring softly, seeming to have not a care in the world now that he’s snuggled up in Tamaki’s arms… a soft feeling replaces the heaviness. Something warm. “Can we keep him..?” It’s timid and soft, full of bashful beauty. Full of Tamaki. Full of something Mirio could never quite seem to get enough of. He would do anything to hear that tone for the rest of his life, and I mean, how could he possibly say no to him when he’s talking like that?! “Aw~ of course we can!” “Hahh-!” “Hm?” “N- nothing. Sorry. Just thought… oh wait… hehh- holdon- I haahhhh…. hEH! hh’kITSHH’ieww-! hAHH… ihhh… hihh- ihH! hEH’ISH’iew-! Ohgod- hehhh… hiH! sshh’oo-! tishh’oo-! keshh’iew-!” “Bless you!” “Th- huhhh… thanks…” “One more, right? You still have that sneezy look on your face!” Tamaki blushes, nose still twitching madly, the kitten in his arms completely unaffected by the tiny sneezes the being holding him is letting out. “Y- yeah.. Sohhhehh-! Sorry… I can still feel it but… b- buhhhhh! But I don’t think it’s coming out…”  “Oh, that’s the worst! I hate it when that happens. It’s just tickling, and itching, and building up… you feel every inch of your nose trembling, but nothing comes of it! Just like a feather’s swirling around, even your lungs itch with the need to sn-” “hiH! hH’ishh’oo-! shh’oo-kshh’oo-hAH! Hehh… EHH-! tish’hiew-! mmpffshh’iew-! hH! Hehh… hAH-... guhhh… I haahhh… hiHhh- have to- heH…. hUH! mMtishh’shiew-!” “Oh- bless you again! And again and again! Sorry, was that my fault? Didn’t mean to make it worse.” “It’s okay… it feels better now anyways… s- sorry about that…” “You don’t gotta apologize for sneezing. It’s a perfectly natural bodily function, and not exactly something you get to control! Pluuuus~ they’re so adorable!”  If Tamaki was blushing before, he’s at least tripled the shade by now. ‘Natural or not, that was embarrassing… a pro hero should have more control over their own body… not to mention how long they take to come…. I’m just sucking up all this attention that I don’t deserve… and don’t want…’ “Hey.” Mirio’s gaze is soft, but there’s a fierceness just under the surface. Something deep, primal, and protective.  “Don’t beat yourself up, okay? I see your mind spiralling, I promise, it’s okay. It’s just me here, you know I don’t mind.” “Th- thanks… I’m so-” “Don’t apologize, okay? You don’t need to, not with me.” With a gentle touch, Mirio pushes the hood back from Tamaki’s face, his purple hair messily pouring out. A bit brushes against his nose, prompting Tamaki to gasp, and lean into his shoulder. “Ishh’oo! Hehh… hIH’kishh’iew-! Hihh- haah…. Ehhh… heH! Keshh’oo-! Hehh- hH-! Shhh’oo-! mmPFshh’iew-” The way Tamaki trembles through the tiny sneezes wakes the kitten, who lets out a weak meww~, purrs, and proceeds to let out a sneeze with a softness that matches Tamaki’s. “Aww Tamiii~ You and the kitten have the same sneeze! That’s so cuuuute~!” Tamaki’s response is to let out a low groan and pull his hood back over his face, picturing the floor caving in beneath him and letting the ground swallow him whole. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing you. For real though, are you okay? You’re sneezing quite a bit, catching a cold?” “No, I feel fine. Just a bit… itchy…” “Hayfever starting to kick in already? It’s only January, usually cedar pollen doesn’t start till February. Maybe it’s coming early this year?” “Maybe…” There’s a hint of a lie in his tone, but Mirio doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Tamaki lets him ramble on as they start to continue the walk home. He’s going on about hayfever, something to do with global warming, season changes… and Tamaki wants to listen, but with the way the kitten’s purring is sending shivers right into his heart, the buzzing in his nose that still hasn’t backed off, and the pain throbbing in his arm, he’s just too overwhelmed. ‘I should be paying attention. Three sensations shouldn’t be taking up all my mental energy… Mirio wouldn’t let this affect him this much… I really am useless… Why can’t I just deal with it like he can-’  “You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” “D- doing what..?” Mirio pauses, studying Tamaki’s eyes for any sign of panic. They both know he’ll find plenty of anxiety, and maybe a bit too much sadness for either of their liking, but the panic is what he wants to make sure to avoid. Satisfied with no traces, Mirio decides it’s alright to keep going. “You’re in your own little spiral again. May I?” He reaches for Tamaki’s hood, pausing just shy of contact, letting Tamaki decide if he can handle it. Tamaki gives a small nod, careful to tip his head back so his hair falls to the side instead of right on his face, not eager for a repeat performance. “That’s better, there’s your beautiful eyes. I miss them when they’re hidden~!” “Hihhh- hH’ishh’oo-! kshh’iew-! tishh’oo-! Hahh… hehhh-!uhhh…. Guhh… hUH! mmpftishh’oo-keshh’iew-!” “Bless you. Hey, have you heard that Chargebolt transferred to Dynamite and Deku’s agency? Yeah, apparently his boyfriend already works there, and they finally convinced him to join too! Apparently he was working at one with a few other friends from UA, and-” Tamaki can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as Mirio continues on, feeling much more relaxed with someone else as the topic of conversation. Mirio was always good at that. Putting him at ease by providing a constant stream of talking, leaving spaces for him to interject if he has any opinions, or even just give little hums of approval so they both stay grounded in the conversation.  However, the relief is short lived, as the next breath he takes starts the tickling back up with a vengeance. ‘I should really tell Mirio what’s going on… but….’ He glances back down at the kitten sleeping in his arms, gently kneading the fabric of his costume, a peacefulness to it that just feels cruel to take away. ‘He’ll make me leave it behind…’  “Tamaki? Are you listening?” “Hm..? S- sorry, I was uh…” “Hey, don’t sweat it. I was just asking if you wanted to stop by Deku’s agency and show him the kitten! I don’t think Bakugou would particularly want to see him, bit of a grump that one! But Midoriya would probably fawn over him, I imagine Denki would too-” “hEhh… hIH’nXgt’shoo-!” “Bless you! But if you’re not feeling up to it, that’s okay too! Maybe tomorrow? We’re taking the kitten home after all- hey wait, just had a thought, why don’t we host a small get together so people can meet the kitten! We could invi-” “Hah… hUH- hhhih! guhhh… hhEH! nngXT’shoo-! nGT-!huhhh” “-bless you again. Let ‘em out, don’t stifle, just us here. What was I saying? Oh, right! Invite Denki, and he would probably bring Shinsou, that guy seems to love cats! And Midoriya of course, who would probably drag Bakugou along with him, and maybe ev- oh, another one?” “heHh-! Yes, s- sorry… I just… Hahhh…. Haahhh… Igottasneeze-! ihhh-hIH! hH’ishh’iew-! heH’utshh’oo-! Hehh… hAH- guhhh… S- sorry ithhhih! It’s so dramatic… hahh-! It just tiihhhh- tickles! heH!uhhh… hahhh… huH! tishhh-kshhh-hEH’ishh’oo-!” Mirio playfully slaps Tamaki’s arm, immediately apologizing when a hiss escapes Tamaki’s teeth, “Right, hurt arm, sorry!” before deciding instead for a light rub on the back, pressing his other hand against Tamaki’s forehead, and letting out a slight sigh when he doesn’t feel a fever. “Bless you. You know I don’t mind the sneezing… but… I have to admit Tami, I’m a bit worried. You don’t feel warm, so I believe you that it’s not sickness but… even with the seasons coming earlier, pollen count was pretty low this morning, definitely not high enough to be causing this much of a reaction.” “Y- yeah…not pollen…” “Tamaki Amajiki! Do you- do you know what’s causing this..?!” Tamaki blushes deeply at the use of his full name, guilty eyes darting down to the kitten, then back up to Mirio. “Are you allergic to cats?!” “M- maybe… yeah… I am… I’m sorry Miri, I just… I wanted to keep it… he looked so sleepy, and warm… and I didn’t want to have to leave him here…” Mirio brings a hand to his chest, giving a small gasp, which halts Tamaki in his tracks, turning with wide eyes to meet Mirio’s playful gaze. “You think I’d make you leave the kitten out here all alone?! What kind of villain do you think I am? Wow Tams, I can’t believe you think I’d be so heartless!” A pale tint settles over Tamaki’s face, the weight back on his shoulders nearly driving him into the ground. His thoughts start to race faster than he can keep up with. ‘I didn’t mean it like that… I did think that though… what kind of friend am I? To think he’d do something so cruel, of course he wouldn’t make me leave it… he probably hates me now… he thinks I think he’s an awful person…. I can’t believe I said tha-’  “Tamaki.” Strong hands break through the barrier of panic that had settled around him, gently brushing the hair from his face. “I’m not angry with you, okay? Take a deep breath, I promise I was kidding. I’m sorry, I should have seen that you were too overstimulated to be able to separate that out from my normal tone. It’s my fault, not yours, okay? Let the blame rest on me, don’t try to shoulder a burden you didn’t earn.” Kind eyes meet Tamaki’s watery ones as he manages to lift his gaze off the ground. Mirio pulls him close, letting Tamaki rest his head on his shoulder, taking a beat to just collect himself. ‘He’s not mad. I didn’t screw up.’ and then ‘I need to sneeze-’  “heHH! M- Mirio… I… I neehhhdd… hehhh… hAHhh-! hH’nGT’shoo-! nXT-!uhhh…. Hihhh.. I can’t.. I can’t stiihhh stifle… Igottasnee- ksHH’oo-! Hehh- ahhh… hhUH! hHMmppshh’oo-! tishhh’oo! Mmtishh’iew-!”  Mirio just pulls Tamaki’s head into his shoulder, letting his twitching nose bury itself in his costume as he lets out the itchy, albeit tiny, sneezes. “Bless you. It’s alright, I don’t mind. Better me than your allergen-infested hands. Tamaki blushes again, ‘At this point I’m blushing more than I’m not, does that make blushing my default state, and not blushing is actually blushing now? That… that makes no sense… stop being an idiot Tama-’ “Focus on me, okay? Don’t let yourself get lost in your own head. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” Once again, Mirio breaks him out of the spiral, instead bringing his focus back to the shining eyes beaming down on him with kindness he’s not sure he’s worthy of. “T- thank you… sorry…” “It’s okay. However, now we gotta figure out what to do about this kitten. As much as I adore seeing you show your feline side with those kitten sneezes, I have a feeling this is only gonna get worse, am I right..?” “It… it probably will… s-heH… hhhahh…. hUH! mMtishh’oo! mmpshhh’iew-! Hehh… hAH’tishh’oo-! Sorry… it usually starts off slow, but sometihhhmes if I don’t… remove the allergen… it can get worse…” “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Bless you by the way! Your allergies were never what one would call subtle~. I remember the first time I saw you out in springtime unmedicated… Jeez, I was seriously concerned you might faint! Kitten as they might be, your sneezes seem to take an awful long time to build up, I keep worrying you’re gonna run out of breath before the release even comes!” “hEH! Hahhh… guhhh… Y- yeah, it’s always been like that. It’s… kinda mortifying at times… it just takes… taahhhkes…. S- sorry imgonna- huhhh- heH! mMMtishh’uue-! keshh’oo! tishh-ishh-shhh’oo-! Excuse me… takes so long to build sometimes.”  “Bless you! Hey, at least it’s not like mine! Scared poor Hado nearly to death last week with one of my sonic blasts, it just came outta nowhere! Usually I get at least some warning so I can try to muffle them. I’d trade- bless you- trade anything for your little teeny tiny ones! They’re just so adorable! Though I’ll admit, having such a long build- bless you!- buildup must get annoying at times.”  “Hihhh… nnehhh… nnMPshh’iew-! heH! G- gonna… I… hahhh.. I gotta… gottaahhhh… huhhh… hHH! Keshh’oo-! heH’ISHH’iew-! Sorry- wait… nohhhh… huhhh… not- not done… hiH’TISHH’iew-! mMPFshh’oo-! nNGT-!uhhh… heHh… tishh’oo-! Sorry… bless me…” “Hey, that’s my job!” “S- sorry..!” Mirio’s laughter floods the dark alley with light as they step out into the street, looking up and getting their bearings. “Alright! Hero agency is just over there, but I actually have a different destination in mind. Think you can handle a quick stop? I’ve thought of the perfect place to bring our little friend.” “Y- yeah… can I ask where..?” “Don’t worry, it’s someone who will help.”  ~~~~~~~ This is how Tamaki finds himself standing outside Aizawa’s apartment, at 10pm, kitten in his arms, Mirio by his side, as Aizawa stands at the door in his pajamas. “Heya sir!” “Mirio, I’ve told you, we’re adults now, you can use my name.” “Right- sorry sir- I mean Aizawa! Still getting used to it, sorry ‘bout that! But, hopefully this will earn forgiveness, we’ve brought you a gift!” “hIHH… guhhh… hehh- hAH! nngXXT-!uhhh…. heH’enngt-!huhhh….” “Bless you, Tamaki.” “T- thanks… sorry… the uh… the gift is the kihhhh… s- sorry I… Igottasnee… hehh-! hhh’nngT’shoo-! nGT-!uhhh…. Hihh… hAHH-! kNNGT-!shuhhh….” “Bless yo-” “Hey, quit that, stifling them like that is just gonna make the tickle worse! Plus, it’s gonna give you a headache. Aizawa doesn’t mind, do you sir?” Aizawa lightly chuckles at the deep blush spreading across Tamaki’s face, but it’s quickly quieted by concern at the slight wheeze to his breath as he ducks into his shoulder. “Hihh…. I have… I gotta… huhhh- I have to… HAHhhh…. Guhh…. Hahhh! mMPFshhh’oo-! heH’etshhh’oo-! Hishh’oo-! Kishh’uhh-! Hehh… hahh… huETCH’iew-! mMPFSHH’iew-! hH’asSHH’uhh-!” Mirio is wearing the same concerned frown as Aizawa at the harshness of the outbursts. “They’re starting to sound rough, are you okay?” “Y- yeah… sorry… that was gross… but my uh… my hands are… kinda full… and… I di- didn’t think touching… my nose with them would be… a g- good idea…” A light seems to go off in Aizawa’s eyes, eliciting a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk. “Tamaki, are you allergic to the kitten?” The blush darkens, but Tamaki offers a nod, eyes glued to the floor once more. “Oh my god kid, give me the cat before you pass out. Hey Mic-!” Tamaki hands over the kitten, wincing at the way his arms slightly tremble when the warmth leaves them. There’s a faint sound of footsteps before Mic shows up, wearing matching pajamas, eliciting “awws” from Mirio, and a deeper blush from Tamaki. “Yeah Sho? Oh- we have company, hello there! What are you guys doing here so la- woah Tamaki, you look awful!” “Th… thanks…?” “Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to get all harsh just then. I feel a little lost here, Sho, catch me up?” Aizawa fills Mic in on the situation, gesturing to Tamaki and whispering something neither of them can quite catch, before Mic rushes off back into the apartment. “Alright kid, just wait here for a second, I’ve sent Mic to grab something for you.” “S- sir…” “Aizawa. Same as I said to Mirio, we’re adults, you’re on the same footing as me, you can use my name.” “S- sorry… Uh… Aizawa… is… would it… I was just wondering… hehh- holdon… haah!... so- sorry… hiHH! hETShh’yuu-! hASH’oo-! heH’huETchh’uee-!”  Mirio lets his smile slip for a minute at the wheezing notes in Tamaki’s lungs as he struggles to catch his breath, his hand rubbing supportively on Tamaki’s back, trying to help him get his footing back as he stumbles with the effort of each sneeze. Aizawa is watching, the frown deepening as he calls back to Mic to hurry up, and places his hand on Tamaki’s shoulder. “Take your time, kid. Just breathe, okay?” “S- sorry… I’m okay… but uh… I was just… wondering if… maybe… I could come visit him sometime…? I just… he’s so…. Warm….” There’s something unsaid, something deeper than Tamaki cares to admit, something about the peaceful way the kitten slept in his arms. As if it felt completely safe. It wasn’t scared of him at all, it didn’t want something from him, it didn’t think he’d drop it. It had this unconditional faith in him… ‘Reminds me of someone…’  “On two conditions. One, you take medication beforehand. Because quite frankly, right now I’m worried you might keel over at any moment. You look about ready to faint, and that whistling in your lungs has me about ready to drive you to the hospital.” “S- sorry… I promise… I will… once I take meds… It’ll calm doowwnn… hehh! hETSH’oo-! hH’ASHH’iew-! Keshh’oo-! Sorry… excuse me…” Aizawa softens his gaze, not missing the way Mirio’s grip tightens protectively on Tamaki’s arms as the sneezes seem to wrack his weakened body. “Bless you, kid. Condition number two, you have to give him his name.” Tamaki’s eyes widen, and his gaze snaps to meet Aizawa’s, eliciting a laugh from the older man. “Hey, you’re the one who found him after all, it should be you who gets to name him. Don’t you think so, Mirio?” “Yeah, absolutely! Do you have any names picked out already Tamaki?” “Uh… a- actually I kinda do… I was thinking… maybe… Nikkō..?” A small smile flashes across Tamaki’s face, and Mirio is beaming down at him. Aizawa can’t help but let his own smile take over, the scene before him just too precious not to adore. “Nikkō it is then. Naming a tabby ‘sunlight’, pretty fitting actually. Any particular reason for the name?” Before Tamaki has to explain any further, Mic returns to the door, a water bottle and blister pack of meds in one hand, a travel pack of tissues in the other. ‘I don’t know how much longer I can take this… I’m being a burden on all of them… I just want to go home…’ Tamaki feels himself slipping back into the spiral, and frantically looks up to meet Mirio’s eyes. He’s not disappointed with the light shining back at him, full of concern and care. Using it to ground himself, Tamaki turns his attention back onto what Mic’s saying.  “Grabbed what you wanted, Sho! And added the tissues myself because, well-” “hIIHH-! Uhhh… hahh.. heHH! isHH’oo-! kETSHH’iew-! mmMPShh’oo-! Hehh… hAH! mmTISH’iew-! hH’nGT-!uhhh… hihh! nXT-!huhhh…. hIHH!guhhhh… ihhh… hahh! nGT-mNXXT-DGXXT-!shoo….” “-looks like you could use them. Triple blessings times three, little listener!” “Zashi, dear, what did we say about using that nickname on people in the real world?” “We- we said not to… Aw but Sho~, come on, it’s so fun to use!” Tamaki and Mirio exchange a glance as Aizawa slaps Mic lightly on the back of the head, both men laughing as he does so. Tamaki makes no effort to reach for the offerings, instead swiveling around to aim for his shoulder again as his breath catches once more, so Mirio accepts them, offering thanks, before starting to herd Tamaki away. Relief floods Tamaki’s mind immediately. Much as he trusts Aizawa and Mic, having a full allergy attack in front of this many people is more than he can handle for long. “It’s okay Tami. It’s just us now, you can let them go.” “hEH! MMTSHH’oo-! hH’ishh’yuu-! hah’tSHH’iew-! So… so itchy… haH! hH’etshhh’uue-! hEH’huTCH’shoo-! ishh-tishhh-kshhh’oo-! mMMPFSHH’iew-!” “Bless you. Swallow these, okay?” Mirio offers, handing over the pills and water, before pulling out a handful of tissues and passing those over too. “You can blow, it’s okay, it’s just us. I promise no one else can hear you.” “O- okay… thank you…” “No problem, Tamaki! That’s what I’m here for!” ‘Maybe I’m not the sun… but I am still the luckiest person in the world… the sun chose me..!’ He lets himself think, a smile forming over his face, before he turns away and lets himself blow, the smile returning as he feels Mirio’s hand gently rubbing his back. “Thanks Miri~...” “You wanna go home now?” He looks up at Mirio, eyes wide, which prompts Mirio to burst out laughing, the brightness flooding Tamaki’s senses, filling him with that same warmth that he thought had left with the kitten. He doesn’t answer, just gives a small nod, and Mirio takes him by the hand, leading him down the hall.  We don’t have to go anywhere, I’m already home. Home is wherever you are. 

[electricbluebutterflies]

Jess/Leto + “is this your first time?”

This prompt decided it needed to be super-cute modern AU so here we are. PG-ish, equivalent to early-era, and also on ao3.

This is a terrible idea.

There are days Jessica has to remind herself that she had anxiety before this relationship happened to her, but there’s just something about the dynamic that turns up her petty fears in a way that makes her want more and there’s definitely something wrong with her that she’s a good ten or fifteen years from actually figuring out and-

Normal people do not make such a big deal out of something as small as a trip to the seasonal ice skating rink. Jessica is slowly giving up on trying to appear normal.

It’s not her fault that this place looks like a wonderland of lawsuit bait, and she’d probably have some thoughts on the design and construction too except-

“What shoe size are you again?”

They have been together just under a year, Jessica reminds herself. It is perfectly okay that her partner can’t remember that detail. (She suspects he never will, but that’s more worries she can deal with later, after…)

She tells the attendant and is handed a pair of ice skates that look… possibly older than she is, but again her baseline is-

There are attempts at being normal – so, so many attempts – and then there is trying to pretend everything is fine in the middle of December and everything is not fine and she cannot screw this up and she can’t-

“Something wrong?” her partner asks, and at least her general pretending-not-to-spiral signals get through to him, and-

“Could you help me put these on?” See, she thinks, she can talk her way out of this, she can-

He wants to take care of her. Hell if she knows why, but she’s not above taking advantage of it sometimes.

By the standards she functions under, lying about lack of experience with what should have been a normal activity at some point in her life is… a lesser sin, she thinks, but still necessary, still the fear of it, still-

“Is this your first time?”

Lovely.

Fine, maybe she takes advantage of him more than she admits. Maybe she noticed his tendency to just go with things and not ask any more questions than necessary and part of her was and is really, really attracted to that. Maybe she’s still convinced that she can avoid conversations about her background forever, and maybe she will, and-

“I didn’t get out much before you,” she murmurs, hoping that’ll be the end of it and well aware she’ll never be that lucky.

“I’ve figured that out, but…”

“Ice skating never happened because too many people, most of whom might have… made judgements about outfit choices.”

“And I’m assuming none of the other holiday stuff because…”

“Varied reasons. And not a conversation I’m having in public, okay?”

She knows that look in his eyes, the lists that will be made by the time this is over with, another layer of how to adequately socialize a girlfriend whose background could politely be described as culturally isolated and she hates this and she never asked for it and she loves it and-

“You’ll be good at this.”

“You are a nicer person than I-“

“Stop internally hurting yourself for five damn minutes and just…”

“Do you think this place has insurance?”

“Almost definitely not enough. It’ll be fine.”

Her cultivated paranoia says otherwise, but it feels alright to let his stubbornness win over hers and-

“Don’t let go of me?”

“Never.”

She’s still not sure about this as they get out onto the ice rink, but she trusts that her partner is strong enough to get her up when she inevitably falls and-

Maybe, just maybe, she’s overthinking this.

She still stays as close to the wall as possible, so her free hand will have something to grab if she needs it, but… she doesn’t. This is not an experience she has any real desire to repeat, but she would if he asked, and isn’t that just so likely to be her undoing, and-

“You didn’t say no,” he says after a while. “I thought this would be fun and-“

“You’re a hard person to resist. And this isn’t… terrible.”

“High compliment from you.”

“Maybe I’m starting to like being challenged.”

He takes that as permission to twirl her, and for a moment she has no idea what’s going on and then it feels warm and-

“Warn me before you do that again.”

“That did not sound like don’t do that again…”

“Trying to compromise, okay?”

They’ll figure this out, she thinks. Eventually. Maybe.

She’ll at least try.

[squeiky]

Sometimes I get really sad and lonely and then I scroll through tumblr.

I think I have to start making a routine to walk outside, but i keep making excuses not too. The only outside place I want to be is on my porch and a park that’s 30 minutes away.

I’m really lonely apparently. It’s a side effect of having very little of a social life (aside from the few interactions on here. Since I don’t interact with anyone on any other site tbh.)

I think it’s just easy for me to be alone. Like I’m sure I developed some kind of abandonment issues and I’m fully aware of how it makes me feel- and that might be why i keep avoiding irl interactions.

Everything feels easier here. No anxiety no pressure. I know people here are okay and already know my goofy little self. I don’t have to worry about appearances and present how I desire. I don’t feel trapped.

I can scream into the void here. I can keep screaming and maybe one day, someone might just scream back. It’s a good feeling.

I keep feeling guilty for posting or rebloging so much. I look at other people getting asks or interactions as “successes”. I see comments and tags and it’s “success”. At what? Hell if I know. Perhaps some social game like popularity, or the fact that somebody is liked enough to have people talk to them.

Ugh, I used to read my old blog posts from an account long abandoned. Reeked of insecurity. I see myself falling back into that spiral over and over again whenever the darkness creeps up a little to closely. Like I can only eve ignore it for so long, until I’m back to screaming again like I am now.

It’s like that stupid feeling, like someone in the back of my mind is screaming “please be with me.” It’s crying all the time.

I don’t know what freindship is, I only see people in black and whites of “useful” and “not useful” the definition of useful isnt exact and varies person to person, but I recognize this is my thought process.

I guess there’s the guilt of it all too. Some underlying shame or guilt constantly pestering me. I hate annoying things and it’s really annoying.

I’m young, and I’m still figuring things out. Though that doesn’t really invalidate or solve how I feel now. Idk.

At some point in time I forgot how to talk to people in real life. It’s like when I do my soul leaves my body and I just go on autopilot. Only to return to a state of constant evaluation and analysis (which are my saviors).

Sometimes I just want to stay broken. Or maybe I was never broken to begin with. I don’t know. I’m sad and buttnaked writing this at 11:54 because I’m slowly developing a fear of sleeping (technically I just have s very strong desire to stay awake for no reason in particular.)

I fucked up with the alt descriptions for my art. I’m unsure if I’m making excuses not to make alts because it’s too much effort-or it’s something else.all I know is that I feel guilty about it.

I hate guilt (or is what I feel shame? I’m uncertain). I wish I never felt it. It’s a disgusting feeling that only does me bad. Usually I can just determine via logic when ive fucked up. But if what I feel is guilt then I do not like it. I wish it wasn’t there I wish it didn’t exist because it annoys me.

I cleared out my wounds too. I’m hopping I made it better by opening up a covered path that was clogging the infection gunk from getting out- and some dead skin. Getting hurt sucks.I thought I would be stronger. But I am reminded I am frail.

Screaming into the void in hopes of a freind. It’s a strange habit to have. Always screaming never a reply. I wish I could make things like this one person I follow. I’ve never seen them ever sad about their lack of interactions (atleast in this platform). I’m trying to be like that. But it sucks that I can’t register likes Orin the same way I do as reason people’s tags or comments or seeing their reblogs.

Since I’m always reblogging other peoples stuff, there’s always that nagging feeling when ever I make my own shit that it’s never enough.

One day though I think I’ll feel “enough”. I’ll drink champagne on that day and eat a chocolate cupcake. Just like a birthday celebration.

[mental-health-advice]

Hi I hope you're well. Idk who else to talk to and I haven't actually gone to a therapist yet but I know I have some sort of social anxiety because it affects my daily life. I barely participate in discussions during my classes and when I do, I overthink what I'm going to say and end up going off topic, not like how I rehearsed it in my head. I start to hate myself after I talk in class because I hate the way I speak (I'm really really bad at thinking on the spot and mumble a lot so it makes me self conscious). Sometimes the prof tells me she can't hear me and it makes me even more anxious and I feel guilty because I'm not contributing to the class well, while my classmates can contribute freely, without any worries, and are able to articulate their ideas perfectly. I feel like it'll just be a downward spiral from here because I'm only continuing my studies because my parents have high expectations for me. They think I'm capable of getting a great job because of my education and my organization skills but I get anxious just thinking about it because I know for a fact that I'd never do well in a job interview no matter how much I practice (even if I practice it still wouldn't go how I planned). They think I'm their only hope because my two elder brothers didn't finish their studies, and one also has some mental health issues (he speak to a therapist on the phone for help). I on the other hand, I know I need to go to therapy but I don't think my parents think anything is wrong with me. Plus, I feel like I'd just be a burden on them because they're already struggling as it is (we're not really that well off) and I've seen how my family treats my brother as a burden as well for having mental health issues) so I don't think I'll ever get the help I want. I also feel like a burden on my close friends because some of them also have some mental health issues and so bringing up my own struggles will make it seem as though I'm disregarding theirs. It's just too much and it's gotten to the point where I have trouble sleeping because my brain doesn't stay quiet and I have too many thoughts running through my head :(

Hey there,

I too had struggles when I was at uni with actively participating in class discussions and sharing my own thoughts and ideas on topics that were brought up, so you are definitely not alone in that aspect.

I think when it comes to speaking up and contributing to class discussions, it’s more of a confidence thing and so the more you do it, the better and more comfortable you will feel in doing it. You did mention though that you try to talk in class but that you are never satisfied or happy in the way you talk/ feeling as though you don’t get your point across well enough despite practicing and rehearsing it in your head first. Firstly, I think it’s great that you are at least giving it a go and trying, you would be surprised at how many people will just sit back in the background and stay quiet.

I am wondering if before talking in class you can first write down points that you want to talk about and next to each point writing a bit about each. Doing this may help you to stay on point and remind yourself what you are trying to discuss and get out talking wise in your classes. Just an idea! Something else you could try is speaking to your professor and letting them know that you struggling with talking in class and that it makes you feel really self-conscious when they say they cannot hear you. You never know but they may also have some pointers on how you can talk more in classes! I’m sure that they have had past students who have struggled with the same or similar things as you when it comes to speaking in class.

I also want to quickly mentioned that it’s not really fair on your parents to put all this pressure on you for being the only one out of your siblings to get into uni and continue in your studies. I too can relate to this as my eldest sister wanted to be a paramedic but didn’t get the grades to go to uni to further in her studies and my brother chose a trade and so again didn’t go to uni but then somehow, shy me got accepted? Yes it’s super cool that you got in and get to study in your chosen fields but at the same time it has to be because you want to do this, not others wanting this for you but because you want it for yourself. And whilst it’s true that you may get a better job from going to uni, you can still get a decent job of your choice without a degree. My sister is a great example of this as she never made it to uni but now has a great job at an emergency services call centre where she is able to directly help others still (just not in the field). And me, well I had to drop out of uni due to my mental health impacting on my studies but I again am doing what I love even though it’s mostly volunteer based stuff. So for example I love both working with animals and helping others and offering them support where I can. I now volunteer for an animal rescue group with getting funding and am also a foster carer for cats/ kittens and to help me fulfill my desires to help others, I volunteer when I can here at MHA. I guess what I am trying to say is that getting a degree isn’t everything. You need to be happy and really want this, even if what you really want isn’t following your parent’s dreams for you.

And in regards to feeling as though you won’t be any good at job interviews, just try to focus on the here and now right now. We never know what the future may have in store for us so there is no point in worrying or stressing about all the what ifs when they haven’t even happened as yet!

I know it can be really hard in confiding in friends about your own struggles when you know they have their own stuff going on as well. It’s more than OK to let friends into your world though and they may even be able to offer you some advice and support themselves. You will not be disregarding their own mental health stuff, actually, one thing that I have found helpful in my own mental health recovery is that sometimes it can really help to help others or even just to listen to them when times are tough or just for things in general. It can help give the other person a break from their own struggles and head and that can be really helpful at times for both you and them! And if you are worried about saying too much to your friends about your own situation, then just let them know to tell you if it’s getting to be too much. It’s OK for them to say stop, just like it’s OK for you to tell them to stop if them talking to you is becoming too overwhelming.

It can be really tough when we know we need that extra help and support but feel as though by speaking up we will be a burden to others. And whilst I do not know your family’s personal situation there are ways that you can receive the help and support and at a low cost or for free. For example, you can always speak to a counsellor from either a helpline or on web counselling which is free, or you can check out your local community mental health services and see if they can help you and support you in any way or even just referring you on to someone else. There is hope out there and yes, your parents may not be accepting that you need help and support too, but even the most successful people need help and support sometimes!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren

[bakugousolos]

this is kind of angsty but like... dabi/bakugo/shinsou/denki comforting fem reader after she has a breakdown (...do not question the specificity /j)

Ty for the suggestion @grvyrd-drms !

Mostly gen!nuetral reader tbh idrk how to make it feel lenient towards afabs 🧍‍♂️ sorry 😕🤞🤞

Dabi - While dabi was out “working” you were simply laying in bed thinking. Then it hit you. “Why does dabi even love me?” Suddenly you weee spiraling down a rabbit hole of negative thoughts and soon enough you were bawling. Maybe an hour later, he came home to see you with a tear-stained face asleep. “Doll?” He asked worryingly. Next thing you knew he was holding you to his chest whispering how much he loved you and that you were the only reason he’s trying to fix himself </3

Bakugou - you were in the middle of cutting onions for dinner when you accidentally slit your finger. You’re eyes were already blurry, how could you even see? The problem is, blood was a major trigger and you couldn’t stop thinking about past self harm. On the floor, you were crying and freaking out - throwing your hands on your head and getting blood every where - realizing your hair is drenched in the crimson liquid, and eventually passing out lol. Once he was back, dawg was scared shitless. He freaked and ran around looking for bandages. Once he shook you up you could tell you both were drained and he banned you from cooking again. You guys 100% had pizza while watching a movie and cuddling. I’m willing to bet he called you dumb for even thinking about sh.

Shinsou - lately tests have been getting more extreme for you in college, which at first wasn’t bad. You got to stay up with Hitoshi - even if you were studying. The only problem is, you completely loose a normal idea of what time it is and you always end up with hallucinations due to lack of sleep. Straight off you realize it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s not. This idea starts up really bad paranoia/anxiety so after some time you panic and your heart rate goes sky high. What’s real? What’s not? Hell, this Drabble could be fake too!! Don’t worry though, Shinsou sees and just calmly grabs melatonin gummies so you can get some rest for once 😭. He’s so unfazed too, like it’s kind of upsetting. Hoping for cuddles - gets sleep instead. 😞🤲

Kaminari - okay with Denki, he seems like the type to accidentally short-circuit and hurt himself trying to help you … but for the sake of this, he’s gonna be fine at comfort. You guys are happily watching a movie and when he brings in a massive bowl of popcorn you start to get upset. “How much have I eaten already?” You think. It upsets you with just the thought of eating and when he brings so much food it’s hard not to get upset. Before you know it you feel yourself shedding tears. He feels something wet drop on his hand and just knew that you were crying. He doesn’t exactly know what to do so he squeezes you tighter and just shushes you. Quickly realized it was the food and told you were perfect just the way you are and that if you were gonna let food beat you then fighting villians definitely isn’t the way to go. His stupid joke has you laughing and later you find yourself eating with him. 😈🙏

GUYS IDK HOW TO PROPERLY DO SMTH LIKE THIS 😭😭.

I literally had sm trouble trying to do this and istg it came out so bad LMFAOO. I really feel like this was such a letdown and my original version was great - but i closed the app and my whole draft got erased 😀. Decided to get it out earlier than planned tho because i feel bad. Hopefully this is atleast a little up to the expectation 😭.

Happy reading (๑>◡<๑)

[funkymbtifiction]

Hey, Charity! I’ve been struggling to decide between being a 6 or a 9 (9’s disintegration makes more sense, but I still get confused). I’m also pretty sure that I’m an ISFJ, does it fit with the enneagram types? Thanks!

Okay, what you have to remember about ISFJ is that inferior Ne can be very worst-case scenario, with or without a 6 core. I know a 9 ISFJ who has "worried" futuristic thinking, but it's always within the realm of inferior Ne, which is to say based in Si-driven possibilities of what is realistic (don't leave toys at the top of the stairs, kids; what if your dad falls down them and gets hurt?).

Yes, ISFJs can be both 9s and 6s. That's their two most common types, along with 2 and 1.

* Ever since the pandemic, I’ve been working and studying from home, which was a huge factor to increase my anxiety. I’m looking for a therapist to help me deal with it, but for now, my defense mechanism is avoidance. I avoid everything that could be a trigger to my inner peace and try my best to block my anxious thoughts, since spiraling into them is awful. I may avoid going out because the external world has lots of “scary things”, but I try to fight this urge because I know that it won’t do me any good. I also dive deep into my hobbies to escape, so I’m either writing a lot, reading a lot, binge watching every TV show, etc. I love this escapism, but I know that’s totally my way to avoid dealing with hard things.

This sounds like core 9, because it's all about avoidance and trying to maintain an inner sense of peace. 9s do have anxiety, but they try and avoid it by ignoring what upsets them, minimizing the outside world's affect on them, and doubling down on what gives them comfort... and it sounds like what you are doing.

* When it comes to my friends, I may also withdraw from them.

This again, sounds like a withdrawn stance/core type -- I am anxious so I am going to withdraw from you. 6s move toward people and want to stay connected as a sense of security/inclusion, but 9s tend to pull away from other people in stressful situations and rely on their sense of inner self to get through it.

*I’m very honest about my feelings and I don’t care about what people will think about them. Tbh, I don’t even have time to think about how people will react, I just share what I’m thinking/feeling.

That's healthy Fe.

I’ve been labeled a “crybaby” for my entire life because tears are my instant reactions to deep emotions (I can’t change that and definitely wouldn’t for the sake of “pleasing” someone). Sometimes, I need to hold back my strongest opinions because I don’t want conflict, but it doesn’t mean that I’ll pretend to agree with things (in these situations, I’m the first to walk away before my anger bursts out).

Avoidance of anger is 9. Walking away is also 9. Avoidance of conflict is 9. 6s don't always think before they react, as reactive types ("I am upset about this, and I want you to get upset with me!!!").

* I’m suspicious of people’s intentions (it gets worse depending on how strong my anxiety is), but I’m either trusting too much or too little, no in between.

Normal for a 9. I suspect overall you are trusting, unless stressed.

* I’m not ambitious until the moment I realize that there’s something I really want. It doesn’t happen that often, it’s easier for me to simply go with the flow.

Again. 9.

* I like to be fair with others so, when it doesn’t happen, I easily get angry. I constantly tell people how “angry” I am about something. My sister once asked me: “Do you really feel that angry? Because it doesn’t look like it”.

9s are fueled by anger. They may or may not realize that anger is their emotional response to everything. They are, after all, a gut center.

* When it comes to mbti/enneagram, I can see different aspects of myself in different types, which makes me feel that I don’t truly fit anywhere. I know that you have to see the one that fits the most, but I’m constantly getting stuck on “what ifs”. I hope that’s enough, thank you so much! :)

9's see themselves in every type...

You might be a 9w8. It seems like you are a little angrier/more defiant (this is how I feel, deal with it, I won't change to please you, I'll just get up and leave) than the 9w1, who tends to merge into other people and their feelings more as an ISFJ.

[twst-bs]

NRC Students and an Anxious MC

And with this, I've done all of the students at NRC!! Well, with the nervous MC, anyway, I have some other stuff in the works too.

Also, in case anyone was wondering, I'm open for both requests and commissions!

-----

Ace: “You look awful.”

The Ramshackle Prefect shot Ace a glare, but it lacked their usual fire. “Thanks, Ace.”

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” he caught up with them easily when they turned around to keep walking. “I just meant you looked like you had a rough night. Or like you’re stressed out. You know.”

“Your grave only has to be six feet, Ace, you can stop digging now.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “You aren’t usually this crabby. Seriously, what’s up?”

They sighed. “You’re right, I had a rough night.”

“Any particular reason why? Or just ‘cause?”

The two of them had reached Crewel’s classroom, but they still had a few minutes before they had to be in there. The Prefect bit their lip nervously. “I kind of freaked out last night because of the homework.”

“It was pretty hard, huh?”

“Well, that too,” they crossed their arms, almost like they were trying to hide themself. “But, it’s like...I feel stupid, you know? You guys all know this magic stuff, but I’m struggled to handle even the basics. Then I thought, well, if I can’t handle the basics, I’m going to get punished, and I would deserve it because I’m an idiot, and...you can see how the spiral went.”

Ace was quiet for a moment, studying them with an unreadable expression. Then, he heaved out a side and grabbed their wrist, tugging them into the classroom. “I guess it can’t be helped, then.”

“Huh?”

He plopped unceremoniously into his seat and dug around in his bag. “Be quick about it, okay? Queen only knows what Crewel’s punishment for getting caught copying homework is.”

The Prefect stared at Ace with wide eyes. “Seriously?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Ace shrugged, slapping his notebook down on the desk. “If he says anything, I’ll tell him you helped me word it. Now, come on!”

Deuce: They weren’t getting anywhere.

The longer they stared at the question on their worksheet, the less they could focus. Apparently this was supposed to be basic stuff, but there were so many strange ingredients with different magical properties that they couldn’t keep track. And the more that had to flip back and forth between their textbook and worksheet, the more stupid they felt.

“...right? Hey, are you alright?”

Deuce’s voice broke through the panic that was beginning to set in, and when they finally looked up, his blue eyes were wide with concern.

“What? I’m sorry, Deuce, I kinda...spaced there for a minute.”

That only made the crease in Deuce’s brow deepen. “You looked really freaked out. Is something wrong?”

The two of them had made a habit out of studying in the library together. Since Deuce wasn’t the best student and the Prefect was playing a very intense game of catch up, they figured they could motivate each other while studying. But lately, all they had been able to do was sit there and be anxious about everything.

"I...um…" They absent-mindedly clicked their pen, unable to look Deuce in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" he asked incredulously. "For real, are you alright?"

The genuine worry in his expression made something in them burst. They threw their pen down on the table and buried their face in their hands. "I don't know what I'm doing! I went from magic not existing to suddenly having to study it, and I can't even master the basics! I'm terrified that I'll fail and Crowley will kick me out and -"

"Whoa, whoa, hey, it's okay!" Deuce's chair scraped against the floor as he hurried over to their side, grasping their hands in his. "Everything's gonna be okay."

Their chest heaved as they tried to suck in enough air. "But -"

"Listen," he cut them off. "The stuff you have to deal with is a lot. And I'm sorry for not realizing it earlier. If you want, we can go to Professor Crewel and ask for some tutoring, or even remedial lessons. Whatever you need, I'll help."

Cater: “What are you looking at?”

At the sound of the Ramshackle Prefect’s voice from behind the couch he was sitting on in the Heartslabyul lounge, Cater lolled his head back to grin at them. “Heya! Just scrolling through Magicam, what else is new?”

“That is your favorite pastime, huh?” they leaned on the back of the couch, looking at the screen.

“What are you doing in Heartslabyul, anyway?” he asked.

“Ace thought he could get away with not studying if he ‘forgot’ his textbooks at Ramshackle. I’m returning them before Riddle thinks I was in on it.””

“Yeah, that tracks.”

The two of them lapsed into a companionable silence, the Prefect watching as Cater scrolled. However, out of the corner of his eye, he could see their expression gradually get tighter and tighter, like they were trying to control whatever emotion was trying to show through.

“What’s with that face?”

“What face?” they asked defensively. “This is just my face.”

“That’s the face you make when you start having bad thoughts but don’t want anybody to know.”

“Get out of my head, Cater.”

He snorted, turning so he was sitting sideways on the couch and could get a better look at them. “Come on, tell Cay what’s on your mind.”

They hesitated, picking idly at the loose thread on the couch. “...It’s just me being stupid.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“...The people on Magicam are way more good-looking than I am.” the finally mumbled, looking away. “I keep wondering when you’ll realize that.”

Cater’s green eyes widened before he giggled. “Nope.”

“Nope what?”

“I won’t realize it,” he reached around them to pull their face closer, kissing them affectionately on the cheek. “Because it’s not true. And whenever you start to think like that, you tell me, so I can reassure you.”

Jack: Something felt off.

Nothing in particular had happened, it was just one of those days. But, it was bad enough that they thought about just going back to Ramshackle instead of waiting for Jack like they normally did. Waiting outside of the classroom just made them feel even more antsy.

Just as they were about to shoot him a text to say that they weren’t feeling well - which wasn’t technically a lie - said wolf came out of the classroom, tail wagging involuntarily when he saw them waiting like it wasn’t an everyday occurrence.

Before he could even greet them, however, his nose scrunched up. Furrowing his eyebrows, he leaned down and began sniffing them.

“Jack, what the hell?”

“You’re nervous about something.”

Right. Nothing could beat that canine sense of smell.

“It’s nothing.” Jack opened his mouth to reply, but they cut him off. “No, literally. Nothing actually happened, it’s just a...a weird day, I guess.”

It was clear from the expression on his face that Jack didn’t quite understand, but the guy was nothing if not sympathetic. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Nah, it should eventually work itself out.” They tried to muster up an encouraging grin, but from the look on Jack’s face, they didn’t quite hit the mark. “I’m fine, Jack, promise.”

His tail had dropped, and his ears were pressed against his head. “...When I get worked up, going for a jog usually helps me. Gets all the energy out.”

They raised an eyebrow. “You and I both know that your jogging is my sprinting.”

“Then I’ll walk and you jog,” he grinned. “If you want to, that is.”

They paused before shrugging. “I probably won’t do a good job on the homework if I’m like this, anyway.”

Floyd: Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. Crewel will turn you into a rug if he catches you falling asleep.

Their internal monologue was the only thing preventing them from passing out onto their desk. They had had a hard time falling asleep last night, and of course they were working on sleeping draughts in Alchemy today. The vapor wafting from the cauldron was enough to knock them out.

They hadn’t noticed that their eyes had closed until a hard knock on the classroom door startled them open. When Crewel called out for whoever it was to come in, the door opened to reveal Floyd.

“The Headmaster wants to see Shrimpy!” he sang, leaning against the doorframe. Crewel nodded, motioning with his pointed cane for the Prefect to get out.

Physically shaking themself awake, they stood. Next to them, Ace went “Oooooooh~”

“Trappola, just for that, you’re responsible for giving them the notes for the lesson.”

“Aw, come on!”

They didn’t even have the energy to stick their tongue out like they usually would. They just inched past all of the other students until they were at Floyd’s side. The merman casually slung an arm around their shoulder and steered them out of the classroom.

“What does the Headmaster want?” they asked. It could literally be anything, honestly.

“Oh, I lied!” Floyd giggled. “He doesn’t need to see you at all.”

“Huh?”

“You looked exhausted this morning,” Floyd tugged them closer. Not quite a squeeze, but there was something intensely protective in the embrace. “I figured you could use a nap.”

“So you busted me out of class?”

“Yup! This makes me your favorite, right?” he grinned, showing all of his teeth.

“Definitely.”

Epel: They always did have a nervous stomach.

There was a test in Trein’s class that day. No matter how much they studied the night before, they didn’t feel prepared, and their stomach was committing mutiny in response. They hadn’t been able to eat any breakfast, so now they were nauseated and hungry at the same time. They were either going to puke on the test or eat it, they hadn’t decided yet.

“Are you alright?”

They jumped. They had been so caught up in their own head that they hadn’t even heard Epel approach. “Hey. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit of test anxiety, haha.”

Epel didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? You look kinda pale.”

“Really, I’m fine. I was just a bit too nervous to eat breakfast.” they insisted.

“Well, that’s not good.” Epel frowned. “You’ll do even worse on the test if you’re hungry.”

Oh, why did he have to phrase it like that? Just the thought made their already roiling stomach turn, and they whined softly as they hugged themself around the middle.

“Ah, wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” he backtracked. “I just meant it won’t do you any good!”

Epel reached into his bag for a moment, mumbling to himself. “I know I have some in here...ah-ha!” he pulled out a bag of dried apple chips. “Here! It’s not exactly a full meal, but it’ll help. And they’re really light, so if you’re sick because of nerves, they won’t upset your stomach.”

“Are you sure?” they asked as Epel handed them the bag.

“Pos’tive.” he grinned. “I’ve got plenty back at the dorm. And Ma’s always sending me stuff from the farm anyway. So go ahead, I don’t want you passing out!”

Sebek: They had no idea what he was talking about.

It was a feat in and of itself to be able to not pay attention to Sebek. The man was a walking lightning bolt. But today was just not a good day, mentally.

A pity, too. They always liked walking around in the woods with Sebek. Something about being in nature and listening to him talk passionately about whatever was on his mind was almost soothing, but it just wasn’t working this time.

“Are you listening?”

They jumped when he said their name. They had gotten so sucked into their own head that they hadn’t noticed him turn his monologue into a conversation. “I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for? Is everything alright?” he looked them up and down with sharp amber eyes, scanning for anything that could present any danger. “Are you ill?”

“No, no, it’s not…” they sighed, shoulders slumping. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Nightmares.”

Bad dreams had been a problem before they arrived in Twisted Wonderland, but now they were really plaguing them. It made concentrating difficult, even on simple things such as a walk with their partner.

Sebek stepped in front of them, forcing them to stop in their tracks. His angular features were serious, thrown into deep contrast from the light of the sun setting between the leaves. He clasped both of their hands in his own, holding them tightly as he looked into their eyes.

“You needn’t worry about such things. I will not let anything harm you, even your own mind.” he squeezed their hands. “On my honor as a knight.”

Silver: Watching Silver train with a sword was...something else.

They could watch him all day, going after the training dummy like it was actually an enemy.

Well, usually, they could.

It had been another sleepless night, up worrying about all the various things they needed to do. They only managed to fall asleep around four AM, and they needed to be at their first class by eight, so they hadn’t exactly gotten well-rested. They were impressed that they had managed to stay awake during their lessons, but now it was catching up to them.

The warm sun shining on their face and the rhythmic swishing of Silver’s practice sword was vaguely soothing, and before they really knew it they had slumped against the tree they were sitting under, fast asleep.

When they awoke, they were moving. It took a minute to gather themself, and they blinked sleepily at their surroundings.

“You can go back to sleep.” Silver’s voice rumbled against their side. He was carrying them. “We aren’t that far from Ramshackle.”

“...You could have woken me up.” they mumbled, nuzzled closer to his chest. “I would have walked.”

“You looked so peaceful.” he responded, adjusting his grip. “Unless you want me to put you down?”

“No.” they sighed. “This is nice. Me and Grim are always saying that it takes forever to get to Ramshackle from anywhere in the school, I’ll take the ride.”

Silver chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to their forehead. “Go to sleep.”

[ereawrites]

Dick Grayson x Reader - Mania

this was requested by: anon

word count: 10.5k / rating explicit

a/n: sex pollen so auto dubcon (?), but both reader and dick are affected so idk

taglist: @daddyissuesmademe @idkmanicantenglish

It's your fault, really. You should never have got involved in the first place, but the temptation was just too great to resist. How could you pass up the opportunity to investigate Poison Ivy's pollen? This was the first decent sample any of you had ever managed to get - even Bruce, though you suspect there have been a few times he's managed to get up close and personal with the pollen - and normally Tim would handle it, but he's away on business with Bruce, and Damian's too young to deal with intensive research, and Jason just can't bring himself to care. So, that left Dick, and you could've left it at that. You should have. Then again, Tim did text you to recommend that you helped Dick: actually, you would never have left your room if it hadn't been for his intervention. It's Tim's fault.

The thing is, everything was fine at first; you've, perhaps, been harbouring the slightest crush on Dick for a while now, and it's always nice to spend time with him. He's fun to be around, even if his classic charm sometimes borders on teasing flirtation, and he's got such an incredible mind. You forget that, at times - he has a bad habit of putting himself down as the 'kind one' of the family, the emotional support or the comic relief, and he forgets to let himself be brilliant, too. He doesn't realise you've noticed that. Or maybe he does, but he doesn't say anything, and you've happily spent the past two hours studying Ivy's pollen together.

"It's definitely pheromonal, but I've never seen a chemical composition like this before-", you say, eyes glued to the computer screen. Dick is leaning over the back of your chair, one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the desk beside you, and you shouldn't feel as tense as you do. "-look, this section doesn't occur naturally in any species we've seen. She's synthesising these pheromones somehow, it's not like she's injecting them, but I just - I don't get how."

He pushes off from the desk, grabs the back of your chair, and spins you to face him with a half-smile. "I hate to break your train of thought, but I think we need a biochem specialist.", he says, and you suddenly notice how tired he looks: his eyes are still vibrant, warm, but exhausted. "We've done as much as we can on this, right? No shame in calling in the big guns."

"Tim?", you reply, knowingly, relishing in the way Dick's smile grows into a full grin. He's still gripping the edges of your chair, effectively caging you in: you are not looking at his arms, and you can be certain of this because you are looking very, very intently at his face.

"Having a genius brother has its perks, I know. I'll call him now. It's late in Tokyo - he won't be in a meeting, he'll probably just be awake in his hotel room, tapping away at his laptop.", Dick says, finally moving away to fetch his phone, and his voice trails off into a mumble that he clearly doesn't mean for you to hear. "God, he worries me. He really does."

It's much too warm in here: you sigh, and shrug off your jacket, slinging it over the back of the computer chair before calling out,"You're such a mother hen sometimes, Dick."

"I care. Sue me.", he replies with a faux scowl. "You don't complain when you're ill and I bring you hot soup."

"You're a good cook, what can I say?"

"Husband material!", he chirps. You feel your stomach leap and your cheeks heat up at his words. He's only teasing, but the truth of it is, it has more effect on you than you would like to admit. Thankfully, he's quickly distracted by the crackle of Tim picking up the phone. "Timmy! How's things?"

Tim's voice is dry, as always, but with a noticeable undercurrent of frustration. "Shit. I hate it here."

"Hey, Tim. Bad day?", you say with sympathy. You feel a little bad for bothering him, now; as hard as everyone in the family works, Tim definitely pushes himself the hardest.

"I'm the youngest person here by at least twenty years, and my stomach can't handle sushi. Plus, Bruce gets separation anxiety from the rest of you. The one upside is that I've been able to practice my Japanese.", Tim replies. You feel bad for him, of course, but the image of him having to comfort a homesick Bruce has you suppressing a snicker.

Dick shoots an amused smile at you - he's too beautiful when he smiles, it isn't fair - that starkly contrasts the comforting tone he uses to respond to Tim. "Don't worry, darling brother - I've got something exciting for you! Check your emails - wait, only the most recent one, though, I sent you a link to a Red Hood fanpage-"

You interject with an accusatory wave of your finger. "Why the fuck didn't you send me that? Red Hood is sexy." If Jason were here, he would probably threaten to shoot you, but as it is, Dick's amusement only grows. His smile is so infectious, like it spirals out into the air and right into your chest, and you can't help but smile back at him. You don't know if it's the warmth of the room or simply from Dick himself, but you feel as though you're going to need to step outside for some fresh air soon.

"Because of your raging crush on Nightwing, probably." Tim cuts in, and you could fucking kill him. Dick gives you a pleased wink. "I'm looking at a pheromonal compound, right? Ivy's special formula?"

You muster as much venom into your voice as you can, without pissing Tim off so much that he leaves you to deal with this on your own. "Fuck you, Tim - and yeah. It's a newer version, though - I think she's evolving, if that makes sense? Her physiology is definitely changing." Tim gives a thoughtful hum in response to your words: you imagine it's in agreement.

Dick continues your train of thought. "We think she's working with someone else, or she's been experimenting on herself, maybe. Do you have any ideas about how she's making the new chemicals?"

"I'll need a few hours. Send me all the data over. You're right about it evolving, though - it's definitely airborne. Shit, this is actually really interesting - the molecules are more compact, smaller, so she doesn't need to rely on physical touch through her plants anymore-"

The rest of Tim's words are lost to a wave of horror. Airborne, he said - you'd doubt it if it wasn't for the similar shock that's written over Dick's face - and you have not been treating this sample as airborne. Ivy has always relied on physical, tangible contact to use her chemicals: you couldn't have known, there was no way you could've known, neither of you are experts on this kind of thing - you've fucked up.

"Airborne? How... airborne are we talking? Like, don't-sniff-the-test-tube?", Dick asks, cautiously, maintaining eye contact with you all the while. *Please, God, let it be don't-sniff-the-test-tube and nothing more than that. Please.*

"Shit, you haven't been wearing respirators - have you?". Tim sounds positively horrified. It does nothing to allay your fears, the worries that you've both been infected with Ivy's pollen; in fact, he all but confirms it. Everything is beginning to fall into place now. The tension around Dick - more so than usual, at least -, how warm you're feeling, the mental sluggishness that had you calling Tim in the first place.

You're angry at yourself, for your own stupidity - not Tim, but you're panicked, you're so unbelievably freaked out, and so you can't help but snap at the phone. "How were we meant to know, man? Ivy's never even hinted at having something of this level before!"

"You're working with chemicals, unknown chemicals, I hate-"

Dick cuts in before this can turn into a full-on confrontation. You've got no idea how he's managing to keep a level head. Perhaps the pheromones are already taking a more severe effect, or maybe it's a placebo effect, and you pray that it is, but you can already feel your heart beginning to pound against the confines of your chest. "It's just pheromones, right? We know it's not toxic, at least - Ivy's victims only take a few days to come around, at most. They're just kinda fucked up for a few days."

You admire Dick so, so much. He's right, he's always right, he always manages to keep you calm and make you feel safe: you'll just have to stay with him, and you'll be okay. If you stay here, he can comfort you, and maybe the impacts of the pollen won't even be that bad. And, if they are, well, there's no one else in the manor tonight, and Dick's so handsome and kind and strong, and maybe he'll - fuck.

Tim snickers. "Fucked, indeed. Only when Ivy's in a good mood, though. You guys better get ready for a tough night. I've heard it can get really bad, especially if you're deprived of - oh, fuck, I can't talk about this, this is too funny but it's so weird, oh my god-", and he dissolves into a fit of awkward, stunted laughter. Dick fixes you with an apologetic look, but you swear his golden cheeks are tinged with red.

"How long until it kicks in?", he asks. It's a stupid, stupid question, because you feel like you're close to dying already. You know what he means, though: when will it get bad? You've seen Ivy's victims before. They're entirely without dignity, practically begging to be touched, sobbing from the pain of it all - and you've only heard rumours about the depraved things they let Ivy do to them. What they ask her to do to them.

The huff of Tim's breath crackles through the phone. "Uh - I don't know, maybe an hour? A little less, since Bruce never opens the windows in there. Just seal the sample up, drink plenty of water, and try not to freak out. It'll pass. You won't die."

///

You thought you could do it - stay in your room, deal with this alone, avoid any potential awkwardness with Dick -but you can't. It's barely been an hour. Sixty-seven minutes since you left the cave, to be exact. Sixty-seven minutes since Dick grabbed you by the waist to halt your speedy departure, touch light but insistent, and said if you need anything, come to me. His eyes were dark when he said it. Deep, dark blue, an ocean that you could get lost swimming in; but pupils already dilating, breath already speeding up. He meant it as nothing more than a kindness. Still, though, that hasn't been enough to stop you from coming onto your fingers with the image of those eyes burned onto the backs of your eyelids.

Ivy's pollen is designed to induce lust, yes, but only for the first person you see after you're infected with it. This means two things: firstly, that you need Dick more than anything right now. Your head is pounding, your lungs feel like they're on fire - the sensation between your legs isn't aching, it's agony, and you've spent fifty-two of the past sixty-seven minutes trying, and failing, to fool your body into believing that your fingers are his. The first thing you know, is that you need him, because you saw him right after you were infected. The second thing you know - there was no one else in that room. You were the only person Dick could have seen.

So, stupidly, you seek him out. You go back down to the cave, without even taking the time to wash your hands, because that's what your body is telling you to do, and you're acting more and more on instinct. Potential awkwardness be damned. He'll fix this.

Dick's facing away from you, reclined in the computer chair: his posture seems almost relaxed, just almost, legs sprawled out and left elbow visibly sticking out from around the back of the chair, like he's got one hand close to his head. You'd assume he was still looking at the computer, if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now, but you are, and you notice more. From what you can see of his body - it's low-blue-lit from the computer screen, enough that you can make out the muscle of his legs through his sweatpants if you squint, but it's not enough, you need to see more - he seems tense. Too tense. Normally, you'd sneak closer, but your head is practically spinning now and Dick will help you. He'll make this better. Your voice is hoarse and dry when you manage to call his name.

He immediately jolts in his seat, spinning to face you, and now that he's backlit by the computer, you can barely see more than the outline of his body. God, he looks so lean, so tall - "Are you okay?", he asks, and he sounds almost as bad as you feel. You swallow thickly before responding - and, through the fog in your head, you realise that your jacket is clutched in his left hand.

You, miraculously, manage a weak smile. "I just - I thought maybe it would, you know, be better to... be together, during this. In case - if one of us needs help, or something. I don't know.". You sound stupid. Dumb. You feel it, too, and you can't even bring yourself to care. The mere sight of him is helping: it doesn't remove the pain, or any of the physical sensations, really, but at least the panic of not being near him is being soothed.

"That's - yeah, okay. How are you feeling?", Dick replies. His voice is barely more than a whisper, but you hear it as clear as if he were right up against you. Chest pressed to your back, lips on the curve of your jaw, that voice going right through you and into the pits of your stomach.

It's wrong, to think of him like this, when all he's doing is trying to check that you're alright. He knows you aren't, but he's trying.

The best thing you can think to do is make a weak attempt at a joke. "I've got a newfound fear of Ivy." Dick even huffs out a laugh, but it's just as half-hearted as your words. "I didn't think it was going to be this bad at first, Jesus - but it keeps getting worse, and, it just-"

"-it hurts. I know.". Dick nods. As you take a step closer to him, you realise that your eyes have finally adjusted to the relative darkness of the cave, and you realise that you can see his cock straining against his sweatpants. He's hard. What's more, there's a distinct wet patch leaking through the material.

When you entered the cave, you couldn't see one of his hands; the chair wasn't moving enough for him to be stroking himself, and you're not sure whether you're glad he wasn't, but now that you think of it, there was definite movement. Like he was palming himself through his sweatpants, maybe. And the hand that was close to his head, it's clutching your jacket, he was holding your jacket close to his face while he-

"Dick - were you...?"

He sighs, halfway between embarrassed and resigned, and sinks back down into the computer chair. He keeps your jacket clenched in a white-knuckle grip. "I had to take the edge off somehow, right? I'm sorry, I didn't think you would be coming back down here, I never meant to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"I'm not uncomfortable.", you blurt out before you know what you're saying. Dick's expression visibly shifts - you don't have the mental clarity to figure out into what, exactly - but you can feel your own eyes widen as you process  the implications of what you just said. "Oh, fuck - I didn't mean it like that, I - sorry."

Dick just shakes his head. He must mean for you not to worry. You stand in silence for a while, not exactly awkward but certainly thick with tension, before he pats a hand onto the desk beside him. "God, this is worse than I thought. Do you wanna come sit down?"

Do you? Although being closer to Dick sounds like the only thing you want in the world right now - god, you can't help but think about how good he would look, if you were close enough to really study him, now that you're beyond giving a fuck about etiquette - you're also acutely aware of how difficult it'll be to control yourself. Undeniably, you want him. You've wanted him for months, really - but the pollen has taken that desire and multiplied it tenfold, made it so that it's all-consuming and painful. In your room, nothing more than imagining him, it was bad enough. Now, now that you can see his fucking cock, now that the image of him rubbing himself with a blissed-out look on his face, it's almost impossible to control.

You move to sit next to him. You can't help yourself. Once you start moving, you feel like it's all in slow-motion: Dick's watching you, dark eyes trained so closely on your form, and you're wearing nothing more than a tight-fitting pair of leggings and a thin t-shirt. After what feels like an age - too long to be apart from him - you reach the desk, and upon clumsily perching yourself on it, you see Dick looking as though he's about to pass out.

"Fuck, did I - did I do something wrong? I'm sorry-", you say hastily, but he instantly shakes his head and trains his eyes on yours. The blue is nearly gone. It's all blown-out pupils now, so much that his eyes are nearly black.

He licks his lips as if to wet them. "-no, no, but - when you were in your room - when you were alone - did you do anything to take the edge off? Did you touch yourself?"

You could say no, if you wanted to. You could lie. He would know, but he wouldn't press it, and you could save yourself the shame. For all that Dick must be struggling just as much as you are, he's exceedingly kind, so much that no amount of fucked-up drugs could change that: he's still your Dick, underneath all of this.

"Yeah.", you admit after a heartbeat, and your stomach lurches when you see his cock twitch through the sweatpants. Still, you're embarrassed, and you feel the need to explain yourself just a little. "It felt like my skin was on fire unless I did. It still feels like that, though - like it just wasn't enough, I guess."

"I can smell it on you.", Dick says lowly. Oh, God. That's hot. That's so, unbelievably hot - especially when you see his cock twitch again - but absolutely mortifying. You're torn between wanting to jump on him, right here and now, and retreating back to your room. You compromise by burying your face in your hands, and letting out a pathetic whine to signal how fucked-up you are right now. Maybe you can calm down, now that you don't feel on the verge of a panic attack from being away from him, if you take a few deep breaths.

Naturally, Dick hardly gives you the chance. You feel his hand come to rest on your knee out of nowhere; it's a gentle touch, but you can feel him trembling, and the touch sends a bolt of electricity through you that's strong enough to make you jolt. "I want to help you. The whole point of these pheromones is to make it so that you need touch - it only hurts because we're not getting that. So, I can-", he says raspily, punctuating the pause with a reassuring squeeze to your lower thigh, "-touch you, just... platonically, if that's what you want. What you need."

His voice drops down an octave with the last sentence - you whine again, involuntarily, but you just about manage to turn the sound into words.

"Dick, you don't have to - we can just push through this, I know it'll be uncomfortable for you - I mean, I know it's not like we haven't hugged and stuff before, but this is different, I don't want you to feel forced because you feel bad for me."

Dick must lean forward, closer to you, because his palm slides further up your thigh. The pain that prickles insistently under your skin is beginning to turn into fiery heat: not unpleasant, but desperate, hot, and you're starting to feel like you're not going to be able to stop if he asks you to touch him. "I don't feel bad for you.", he insists, reaching up with his free hand to peel your hands away from your eyes. He curls his fingers around yours as he continues. "I just want to make you feel better - both of us feel better. See, it's already helping, right? Just relax. This is bad enough as it is."

His thumb starts to trace circles on the inside of your thigh. It's nowhere near high enough to be considered sexual, but the movement has your legs almost trembling. You wonder if he can feel the tension of your muscles. "It's... it doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you.". And, technically, you're not lying: it doesn't hurt, in fact it feels fucking incredible. You spent fifty-two minutes trying to replicate this sensation. He's only touching your thigh, it has no business feeling this good, but each little beat of his thumb has waves of pleasure crashing through you. God, how good would it feel to fuck him like this? You're shaking, and you know it, and it only makes him tug you by the hand to stand up.

Even the loss of his touch on your thigh feels devastating, but Dick's next words are more comfort than you could have imagined possible. "Here. Come sit, if you want.", he says - whispering again, voice so low and so deep, but it's just the effects of the pollen, you tell yourself - and gestures to his thigh. "You can lean back into me, don't worry, it'll be better for your back."

This has to feel as good for him as it does for you. Logically, it has to. You've both breathed in the same pollen, his skin has the same sheen of sweat that you can feel on your own skin, you're both trembling in every part of your body, and he's still rock hard. You can feel yourself leaking, god, enough that it might have dampened your leggings and left a wet spot on the desk. What would Dick do, if he saw that? He's clearly turned on, but maybe he still has the good sense to avoid fucking: maybe his view of you as 'just platonic' is so deeply ingrained, he would never touch you down there to feel how wet he's made you. Or, maybe he wants you like you want him.

"Are - are you sure?", you stammer. You can't stop looking at his lap. His cock, painfully obvious (and he mustn't care, because he blatantly drew your attention to it), and the corded muscle of his thighs, spread out straight to form you a perch.

"Mhmm...", he hums from somewhere deep in his chest, and suddenly you're grateful that he's still holding your hand, because the sound almost makes your knees buckle. He tugs gently. "Only if you want to be close to me, though."

He says that like an afterthought - like he knows exactly what you want, and like he's hungry for your touch and doesn't want to consider the idea that you don't want to give him it. You can't bring yourself to look at him before you move to sit in his lap, because you know he'll see the desire, and for now, you're still pretending that you don't want to push him down in that chair and ride him for hours. He'd like that, you think. He'd like it if you pulled his hair while you did it.

Dick lets go of your hand so he can take your waist in both hands, guiding you down onto his lap and gripping harder when your ass inadvertently brushes over his cock. You don't mean to do it, of course, and you jump like you've been shocked: you shuffle further down his thigh to avoid another mishap, but the movement causes your pussy to just barely drag against the hard muscle - you hardly manage to control your moan, forced to sink your teeth into your lip. Thankfully, Dick doesn't seem to notice, and he helps you lean back so his chest is pressed to your back, before lifting his arms to rest on the armrests. From here, he begins to rub soothing lines up and down your arms, and he tips his cheek down to rest against your shoulder with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck, that... yeah, that feels better.", you practically gasp. Feeling him pressed up against the entire length of your body, as torturous as it is, is the most relief you've gained all evening; his legs are shaking just enough that you can feel it in your core, though, and you're forced to tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder. You'll lose your fucking mind if you don't start to relax, he's right.

With your neck exposed, though, you can feel Dick's hot breath tickling your skin when he speaks. "Good, right? It feels good?". For the first time, you really hear the tension in his voice. So much so that you can't pass it off as your own projections, or a trick of his tone - he's just as desperate as you are, holy shit, he sounds halfway to begging, he sounds like he's dying to know that his touch is making you feel good. Your hips twitch of their own accord.

"Yeah... Dick?", you whisper after a few moments. He nods in response against your shoulder, a slow, dragging movement that feels like honey dripping through your veins from the point of contact. "Are you really warm, too, or like - is that just me? I - I feel like I'm burning up... Do you mind if I..." - you trail off, instead opting to tug cautiously at the hem of your shirt.

He sucks in a deep, rapid breath that you feel press against your back. For a moment, you worry that you've gone too far - it feels so good, but it's too weird, too strange for him even now - but then he slowly curls his fingers around the hem, replacing your own hands, and starts to pull upwards at a torturous pace. His knuckles drag over your lower abdomen for just a second and your hips twitch again, and he definitely felt it this time but he says nothing, and his breathing is warm and fast against the skin of your neck; with the shirt discarded, you're left in nothing more than a thin bra. Although the room feels warm, furnace-hot, you're all too aware of the blatant hardness of your nipples, and you tell yourself it's okay, he won't notice, because you're facing away and he won't - his palm drags against your breast on the way back down and it feels so good, too good, and you can't help but whimper, "Fuck, yes-"

Three things happen in quick succession. Dick freezes, you realise what you've done and move to jump up and run for the hills, and then Dick grabs your hips and pulls you back into him, right over his cock, this time. The friction makes both of you let out a breathy sigh, but where you clap a hand over your mouth, Dick follows it up with a hoarse proposition. "I can touch you properly, if you want. It'll make all this go away, I promise - do you want me to?", he rasps, pressing one, quick kiss to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. "Do you want me to touch you?"

His grasp on your hips is tight, wanting, but gentle enough that you know he wouldn't stop you if you tried to leave again. When you make no move to do so - you're frozen, you can't believe he's just offered to do what your body is screaming for - Dick pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your ass over his cock and then pushing you back down. He repeats the motion a few times, rolling his own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto him. Dick rewards you with a quiet moan - oh, you want him to do that again, you're going to make him do that again, louder and louder - and then, with a touch so light you could cry, he traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

One finger traces your slit through your leggings, and you hear yourself moan, but you're hardly aware of making the noise - just this simple touch feels almost as good as the orgasm you had earlier, even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once. This is what you needed, more than anything, for Dick to touch you and drag you down onto his cock, and you're so overwhelmed that every muscle in your body goes lax, leaving you to collapse into his chest.

Dick rubs gently at your pussy a few more times, like he's exploring you, and then suddenly he taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and he sighs against your neck. "God, I can feel how wet you are already. You should have told me, I would've done something sooner, you know that - fuck, you're so wet, let me - let me finger you, huh? Please?"

"Yeah - please, Dick.", you whine, and when you say his name, he moans and shoves his cock up against you again. He mumbles something into your skin that you don't quite make out, and then his hand is fumbling with your waistband, clumsily slipping into your underwear and then he's there, his fingers are brushing right against your clit, you sob out a broken cry - you're so wet that his fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time he reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Your pussy instantly clenches down, hard, and you feel more full than you thought could be possible. Dick moans into the skin of your neck and gives you a moment to calm down, to soothe the desperate jolting of your hips, before he starts to pump his fingers; slowly, at first, but soon picking up into a faster and more urgent pace. With each movement, he scissors his fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and he starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? Is this what you need?"

You fling an arm behind you to grasp at his hair, and when you tug after a particularly delicious curl of his fingers, he bites down hard onto your shoulder. "Fuck, yes, yes - please don't stop, please, Dick, don't stop-"

"I'm not going to stop, don't worry, I've got you - I'm here, I'm not gonna stop, you sound too pretty for me to stop, fuck - I knew you would sound pretty, keep making those noises for me."

Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that he's given up on pumping his fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach - "I think I'm close, Dick, - oh, oh, oh my god, I don't - it's never felt like this before, I don't - fuck-"

"I know, I know, baby-", he croons, and the pet name has you tugging at his hair again, the other hand white-knuckled on the armrest, "-it's okay, it's gonna feel different - it's gonna feel better, I promise, it's going to be so good, I'm going to get you there, baby, come on."

"Fuck - fucking - Jesus, Dick, keep going, just like that-!", you all but shout, and Dick continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of his hand means the heel of his palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into his hand - god, you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you, you feel the contractions start a few seconds before it actually hits you and it's going to be earth-shattering, you know it, every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Dick whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming-

Distantly, you can feel his fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting - and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto his lap - but other than that, all you know is the white-flash across your vision and the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once: this is better than anything you've ever felt, better than every orgasm put together, and it feels feels for a moment like you're actually going to black out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure.

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Dick is heaving for breath against your shoulder, but it's nothing compared to the way your own lungs are screaming for air - god, you think you were screaming, given the scratching sensation in your throat - and his fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. It hurts, a little, but this one orgasm has done nothing to sate your desperate hunger: in fact, it's only made it worse, only increased your desire for him, and you swear his cock is impossibly harder against your ass now.

"You - you're dripping onto my hand, baby, oh my god...", Dick pants, and there's a heartbeat where neither of you move - then, you feel his breath hitch, and suddenly his other hand is shoving unceremoniously under your waistband and going straight for your clit. He picks up the pace with the two fingers still inside you, matching each curl with a flick over your clit, and the motions are all so frenzied, those of a man possessed with some ravenous desire, like his one purpose is to have you writhing in his lap, and you give a wordless cry - too overcome with blinding pleasure to actually make a sound - that allows you to hear his ragged words. "Please, give me another one, one more - I want to make you squirt this time, it's going to be so good, I promise, just give me one more, pretty girl-"

This time, it's not just one wave of pleasure, spreading from your core and emanating outwards; no, it's wave after wave after wave, violently crashing over you and completely overcoming every part of your body, unrelenting and constant - this one lasts at least twice as long as the last, but you're hardly in the right state of mind to keep track of time, and every wave of pleasure that rushes through you is tenfold stronger than the last. You hear yourself shriek his name in the most pathetic, broken tone, and Dick cages you in against his body as best as he can as he keeps both hands working at your pussy, and you realise you're sobbing when he finally, finally stops.

When his fingers slip out of your pussy and exit your leggings, they're dripping wet. Dick audibly gasps, and then he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes you can see the most fucked-out look on his face just at the taste of your cum. He licks his fingers clean - you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight - before opening his eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "You taste so fucking good - baby, I'm not going to be able to stop, I'm sorry, I need this, I need to fuck you - please."

He's asking permission, you realise. Neither of you are in control of what you're doing anymore, and he's still asking, as best as he can, if he's allowed to fuck you. There's a terrified look in his eyes, behind the frenzy and the lust - you clumsily crash your lips against his. He tastes of your juices, but it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, and he moans openly into your mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his own. You're exhausted, but kissing him renews your energy tenfold. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to feel his cock - inside you, yes, but you want to see it first, you want to make him cry out and moan and gasp for you - so you manoeuvre in his lap, keeping your mouth against his, to straddle his narrow hips and face him.

"Ah - ah, god, that feels amazing.", Dick moans, broken up between sloppy kisses, saliva starting to drip down both of your chins - but it's hot, so hot - as you frantically reach down to palm at him. The instant you finally touch his cock, you're gone: there's no stopping now that you can feel how achingly hard he is, now that you feel how he twitches under your hand each time you kiss him, and it takes much longer than you would like to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants, pull them down, and wrap your hand around the exposed length of him. He hisses as his whole body jerks.

Instantly, you set a frenzied pace of stroking him, relishing in each ragged moan that you rip from his throat; he's leaking into your palm, you realise, dripping over your fingers as you pull him back by the hair and attach your lips to his neck. When you suck a bruise into the softest part of his skin - the salty-sweat-tangy hollow beneath his Adam's apple - he shouts out your name, loud, followed by, "-fuck, fu- let me fuck you, baby, please, I - I'm close, you have to stop-"

"Come on my hand, Dickie.", you plead, and you're granted a thick spurt of precum when you lick a stripe up the column of his throat: he tastes so good, his skin so hot under your mouth, you can't stop, and you croon right into his ear, "It's - it's gonna last for hours, still, you're still gonna be hard - I'm still so needy for you, Dickie, look - come on my hand, let me see it, please. You can fuck me after, just come for me where I can watch it, oh - oh, please." His moans start to pick up in volume and frequency, coming from a place deeper in his throat. He's close, you know.

You've started to grind onto his thigh somewhere along the way. It feels amazing, it feels even better because you know he's twitching and aching for you just inches away - once you finally drag yourself out of the crook of his neck, you see that you've left a damp streak on his sweatpants in the wake of your hips, and the steady stream of precum leaking from his cock has soaked the material higher up. "Come on, Dickie, come on, let me see you come, I wanna see it, I - I'll, fuck, I'll lick it clean after, Jesus-", you blurt out, too far gone to be horrified at the ease with which the words spill from your lips.

"Oh, baby, shit-” he cries, and then his voice dissolves into a broken jumble of incoherent mumbles and whines. His cock twitches hard in your palm, once, twice, three times against the rapid pace you maintain on him, and then Dick bucks his hips up into your hand, back arched, perfectly still and tense; he comes hard, almost whimpering, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, looking so, so perfect as you stroke him through it and grind feverishly onto his thigh. It's the image of his cock that has the breath snatched from your chest, though. Several thick ropes of cum spurt from him as you work him through it, some hitting the skin of your abdomen and some dripping down the length, and it just keeps going, no sign of stopping until Dick completely collapses, after almost a minute of moaning and coming - your hand is drenched with him.

The sight of his cum dripping from your palm makes something in your stomach clench hard, painfully, and suddenly you need to taste him, you have to, it hurts so much and it'll go away as soon as you get your mouth on him. You scramble off the chair, almost falling to your knees in front of him - he rushes to steady you, even with weak and shaky arms - but you don't care about how graceful you look right now. As soon as you manage to nestle yourself between thighs, you lick flat up the underside of his cock. The taste of it makes your eyes roll back in your head. Dick spits, "Holy shit!", and it trails off into a deep gasp as you wrap your lips around him and sink down as far as you can go. You'd take your time, usually, but everything in your body is screaming for you to taste him, let him fill you, and you're in no position for argument.

With each dip of your head - punctuated with a moan from the man above you, each one becoming closer to a growl, animalistic, and you think the pollen is beginning to send your bodies into total overdrive now - you take him as deeply as you can. You're nearly gagging, but that's what you need. His hands tangle into your hair; at first, you can tell he's trying to be as gentle as he can, but that's soon overcome with a tight, guiding grip that pushes you further down onto his cock with each bob of your mouth. The burning heat under your skin is killing you now, too much to ignore, so you manage to shuffle out of your leggings and underwear and kick them away: Dick groans roughly, maybe because he can smell you more clearly now-

"Come here, pretty girl-", Dick says, sliding his hands from your hair to lift you up by the jaw. You mean to whine, perhaps beg him to let you back down, because he feels so good in your mouth - then you see the look on his face. He looks totally gone. Nothing like the Dick you know, warm and gentle and relaxed: his eyes are completely clouded over, lips parted and slick with saliva, brow furrowed with something between pain and carnal desire. You imagine you look much the same, with spit dripping from your chin, the heat you can feel burning your cheeks, and the wetness you feel running down the insides of your thighs. He meets your eyes, and there's a moment of stillness. One thumb slips from your cheek to trace over your lower lip.

Then, both of you move at once - you surge forward to kiss him again, those perfect, pink lips - you fumble with the hem of his shirt, ripping it up and over his head while barely leaving his mouth for a second - Dick's hands slide down your body to your waist. He pulls you into him as he leans forward, half-supporting your weight, and suddenly your back is against the floor and he's on top of you, kissing you hard and bruising, the chair long since kicked away and forgotten about. Every inch of freshly exposed skin feels like molten silk under your touch: you slide greedy hands over his torso as he licks into your mouth, feeling the network of ridged scars and each ridge of muscle. Thankfully, Dick grants you a few precious, savoured moments to feel his skin, while he alternates between rolling his hips against your bare pussy and kicking off his sweatpants.

It's all ungraceful and clumsy - wet kisses stolen between your movements, each of you moaning against the other's lips - and it takes much, much too long for both of you to finally shed yourself of all your clothes. Dick's hands grab greedily at your breasts as he ruts his hips against you a few times, and you can feel how your wetness spreads over his cock. Then, his hands fly down to find your knees, and he drags them to fit around his waist, pulling up until your hips are fully tilted, the stretch of your muscles verging on uncomfortable. "Oh, fuck, that's it, baby. Keep your legs there for me, won't you? Come on, wrap your legs around me - I want to get as deep as I can, it's gonna feel amazing, I promise.", Dick says, bordering on a growl now that his voice is so deep and strained, and you do as he says immediately. You need him inside of you, now; you hook your ankles behind his back, kiss him, and desperately grind your hips into his.

And then, with one deep roll of his hips, he's inside of you. One quick thrust and he's buried to the hilt, and, God, he fits inside you so perfectly: your body all but melts at the feeling of finally being filled, and you keen as you instinctively use your ankles to press his hips further into you. Dick's just large enough to stretch you out, even with how wet and ready you are, without becoming painful, and the pollen means it only takes you a short moment to adjust to his size before your body is pleading to be fucked. He's shaking and panting with restraint above you whimper, "Ho-holy fuck, Dickie, please... please move, oh my god."

"I know, baby, I know.", he says, breathlessly, voice tight with pleasure but still sympathetic. Even with him motionless inside you, it already feels so good, better than anyone you've ever fucked, and you can hardly stop yourself from grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him down, and riding him. "It just feels so good, you feel so good - I don't want to rush it, I want to make it last. Jesus, my body feels like it's on fire while I'm touching you, I - oh, fuck, I want to take it slow, make you feel so good you cry-"

"-We have all night to be slow, Dick, you can do whatever you want to me, just fuck me-"

Dick's hips roll into yours and a drawled curse falls from his parted lips. He pulls out, almost completely, enough that you panic and squeeze him tighter with your thighs, but then he pushes back into you, slowly, letting you savour the way each nerve ending inside your pussy is set ablaze; he repeats the motion, faster, his curses morphing into sweet mumbles of your name each time he bottoms out. You can hardly breathe - it feels so good, and each thrust of his hips is met with a pollen-driven roll of your own, so it's half-grinding, half-fucking - the slight curve of his cock has him dragging deliciously against your g-spot every time. His movements are picking up in intensity now, and you can tell the pollen is taking him over completely. The same is happening to you: fuck it, you don't want to think about the pollen anymore, you just want him.

"Ah, yes! Yes, right there-right- keep going-", you cry out after a particularly hard slam of his hips. Dick is propped up on one elbow, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and the other hand slips down to grab at your ass and pull you up into him. He's deep enough that it hurts, but it's the best pain you've ever experienced. "Fuck, faster, please!"

He obeys, mercifully, and you think you can see sweat starting to bead on his temples. "Is this what you need, pretty girl? Come on, tell me what you want - tell me I'm making you feel good, because you're making me feel so fucking good, I swear, better than I ever even imagined - fuck, you're so wet, are you going to come again? Please, please let me make you come on my cock."

The combination of his cock inside you, and his pelvis bumping against your clit, and the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body: it's all too much to bear, your body is going into total overdrive, and it's so embarrassing that he's got you like this. You never normally beg, you never normally come so fast, but this is different and addictive and incredible - you cry out an affirmation to his words, and suddenly his hand is gripping your chin. He's fully collapsed onto you now, and his movements are more frantic rutting than anything else.

"Look at me-", he pleads, using his hand to guide your face so you're staring right into those glassy eyes. "-look at me while you come, and it'll make me come."

You can feel your muscles beginning to tense up as your orgasm starts to grow. Already, your world is spinning, and you feel halfway to blacking out from the sheer intensity, so you tangle your hands into his hair as a way to ground yourself. "Please come inside me!", you whine - the idea of being filled with his cum, letting it drip out while he fucks another load into you, it's fucking mind-blowing and you can't imagine anything better than feeling him shoot into you while you come on his cock.

Dick's jaw clenches tightly. "Are - are you sure, baby? Is that what you want?"

The next thrust hits you perfectly, and you can't help but pull him tighter into you, so his head drops to the crook of your neck. "I need it, Dickie, you know - you know that - you need me too, right? Fuck, fuck - it's gonna feel so good, I'm so close-". He spends a few moments sucking a bruise into the most tender skin of your neck before moving to press his forehead to yours. Each rough movement of his hips has you jostling against the floor; your nipples are dragging against his chest every time, making you keen, and your swollen clit is being hit so perfectly by his hips, and he's making the most perfect and breathy noises against you - he looks so fucked-out, so gone, so completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock inside you, and your vision is starting to blur at the edges as the spark in your stomach finally bursts into flames-

"That's it, baby, come for me just like that.", Dick gasps, just as your orgasm rips through you. You've got no choice but to clutch at him desperately and ride out each devastating wave as a scream tears itself from your lungs: it feels like your body is tearing itself apart with each ripple of pleasure emanating from your core. Like your body is folding in on itself like a black hole does, when everything becomes too much to bear. You actually feel like you've died, you must have, this is too good and too much and too overwhelming - you hang on to Dick through it all, and your pussy clenches down so hard he can barely move inside you, and he chokes out your name before his own orgasm hits him.

You've come down just enough to process the way he looks and sounds as he comes. Your eyes are still hazy - you kept them on him, you must have - but you nearly come again at the mere sight of him. He's too far gone to even make sounds, and instead he stutters out broken breaths through wet lips, cheeks flushed and eyebrows furrowed hard, and his eyes stay fixed on you the whole time. Even as the rest of his body spasms and rocks into you uncontrollably, even as the hand on your chin slips down to your neck and squeezes, he keeps staring at you with all the lust in the world. The best part of it all, though, is how you feel his cum spilling out into you; even more than he shot onto your hand, somehow, and you realise you're crying from how relieved your body is. Fully, fully, crying, and Dick kisses away your tears as he collapses against you.

Despite how both of you are wincing at the overstimulation, neither of you ever stop moving through it all, and you keep grinding gingerly, carefully but sloppily, against each other even while you gasp for breath against each others' lips. It can't be more than ten seconds from when you come down, before you can't control the urge to whisper, "Give me another one, Dick, please. Keep fucking me." It hurts - it hurts because he's not fucking you, he's not moving enough - you need more.

Dick keeps rolling his hips against yours in shallow movements for a few seconds. His mouth is occupied with sucking more bruises into your neck, up your throat and across your jaw: he's mumbling something incoherent, slurring his words. Each fresh bruise has you gasping his name. You're going to be covered in marks after this - not just your neck, his grip on your ass and hips has been tight enough to leave bruises there, too - and you're entirely certain you've left scratch marks down his back. You nearly come again just at the thought of that; Dick, walking around for days with your marks left on him. Scratch marks under his dress shirts when he's on business, or under the tight material of his Nightwing suit, or blatantly visible through the obscenely sheer shirts he wears out clubbing. He's going to be marked as yours.

"You look so pretty like this, holy shit-", he says, pulling his head from your neck to admire his work. "You're so gorgeous - you always are, you always fucking are - but you look even better when you're mine, fuck-"

“-make me yours, then, please-"

You gasp in shock and disappointment as Dick suddenly pulls out, and his own face crumples at the loss of touch, but his palms are firm and insistent on your waist - he kisses you once, firmly, before he's manoeuvring your body like putty in his hands. You're flipped onto your stomach with another whisper of how pretty you are, and then Dick runs calloused palms down the soaked flesh of your thighs, up over your ass, over the curve of your spine and all the way up to gently, gently, press your cheek flat against the floor. He follows his hand with hot tongue, and when he reaches your ear, he murmurs, "You taste so good, pretty girl. Stay there for me. It's okay, let go. I've got you."

Uncontrollably, your ass jerks up and backwards against where his cock is pressing into you. He chuckles. He fucking laughs with his lips pressed to your cheek - maybe having came inside you has cleared his head enough that he can think straight enough to find your desperation funny - and one of his hands slides back down your body, spreading your pussy open for him to look at. You sense his body tense as he gazes at you. "...My cum is dripping out of you, oh my god."

Fuck it back into me, you think, but you're too far gone to string together a coherent sentence anymore. Your body can do the talking. You keep your cheek pressed to the floor, maybe because your muscles are too exhausted to lift your head, or maybe because it was so fucking hot how Dick pressed your head down, but you manage to meet his eyes. You plead with him as well as you can.

Dick's piercing blue eyes roll right back into his skull when he pushes into you again. From this angle, he feels even deeper than before: with one of his hands running lines up your spine, and his lips wet against the backs of your shoulders, and the steady, strong pace he sets fucking you, you're brought to the verge of tears again within minutes. You can hardly move your body to work with him in this position: he uses the weight of his body to press you into the floor, and each thrust of his hips has you moaning loud against the floor.

He brings a string of kisses and nips up your nape, so he can kiss your cheek again. It's sweet, a gentle gesture, only amplifying the pleasure that each deep snap of his hips brings. "I - I'm not hurting you, am I? I know it must be sensitive, baby, I understand if it's too much, I know - you can tell me if it's too much-"

"-no, please-", you whimper, terrified he's going to stop, "-it's so good, please, Dickie, you're exactly what I need-", and then your voice cuts out into a broken sob as one of his hand snakes between your body and the floor to find your clit. The rough pad of his finger brushes over it a few times, eliciting whimpers from you, before he settles for simply resting his finger on your clit. With each thrust, your hips are jostled against his finger just enough to send sparks of electricity shooting through your veins - every time, it feels like flames licking through each limb, and he's fucking into you so perfectly, claiming you with teeth at your neck, rasping your name against your skin - there's wetness against your cheek, like you're drooling, and you're almost certain you can feel the wetness of your pussy dripping onto his hand.

You're so swollen with desire, you can feel how tightly you're clenching down onto his cock. The mind-blowing pressure Dick's applying to your clit is only making it stronger. "You feel so good, baby. So, so, fucking good - holy shit, you're taking me so well." Then, there's a savage thrust of his hips, one that has both of you crying out in surprise and pleasure: he freezes buried to the hilt inside you. "You're going to make me come again soon, sweetie."

That means more of his cum inside you, more of his delicious moans and groans as he comes, and you say, "God, please-"

"-not yet, I want to make you come for me again. You feel so tight and hot when you do - I need it again, I want nothing more than that, please - you think you can give me another one, huh? One more for me?"

"I - I - yeah.", you stammer. You can, you know you can - your body is practically vibrating from how hard you're trembling on the edge of another orgasm - but you don't know when it's going to stop, you don't know it ever will - maybe this will go on all night, maybe he'll fuck you for hours on end and make you cry and let you lick your mess of his cock. But maybe it won't. Maybe your body will give out, or the pollen will leave his system: this will end and nothing will ever compare. You don't want to come again if it means the end of this pleasure. "...Promise you'll keep going after, Dickie."

Dick starts rubbing rapid circles on your clit with his ring and index finger, and kisses your hairline to soothe you as you sob again. "I'm only going to stop if you ask me to, baby, I promise. You feel too good to stop, I swear - I never thought you would be so fucking perfect, but now I know, I can't stop - I'm right here, I've got you, I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your name if that's what you want."

God, you're going to come again, holy shit-

He hardly gives you the chance to come back around before he's crooning, "-one more, one more for me, right on my cock like that-"

You can't even breathe. Your lungs are on fire, your vision is completely blacked out even once the second orgasm ends, your muscles and bones have turned into mush and you can't feel anything other than the sensation of flying. You're weightless, Dick is the only thing grounding you - he coaxes you down from the aftershocks with soft kisses to your cheek, and his hand tracing circles onto your aching hip, and the muscles of his abdomen are flexing with restraint against your back. "I'm gonna come, baby-", he hisses, and you manage the barest nod and then he sinks his teeth right into your shoulder as he starts pounding into you like a whore, fuck, it's sending you spiralling out of control again-

"Fuck, yes, take my cum like that, that's it, keep coming for me, holy shit-"

You're both boneless and drenched in sweat by the end of it. You're collapsed against the floor, Dick's collapsed against you, and he's still hard inside of you. You can feel his cum - it must have spilled out onto the insides of your thighs, judging by the wetness you feel there. His cock twitches inside of you with every ragged breath he takes. You're so exhausted; this is destroying your body, it's ripping you apart from the inside out, and you're terrified that if you come again it'll split you into pieces. And you want that. You twist your body, wincing against the waves of pleasure that crash over you at even the slightest movement of his cock inside you, and kiss him.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 5

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 4804

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

*********************************************************************

It had been a few days since Bakugo had visited. Dabi was so torn between wanting to punish you for being a brat and praising you for finally walking. On one hand it was a law that you worked out every day. It was in writing and you had tried to tell him you weren’t going to do it.

Part of him knew he was only so worked up over it because it had happened in front of Bakugo. If it had happened any other day, he would have given you a quick spank and just thrown your ass in the pool anyways.

The look on your face had made it worth it though. To see that tenacious side of you, the one that looked like it was ready for a fight… Yeah, he could get used to seeing that look.

Then there was the aftercare of your little outburst. You had let him hold you all night. He didn’t know if that was intentional or if you had only reached for him in sleep out of instinct. He remembered how you had reached for Bakugo and it gave him a headache. For now, he chose to not make a big deal about it.

It had been a long day and you were ready to pass out. Dabi had taken the training wheels off and was starting to make you walk more and more on your own without his help. He was always quick to laugh when you fell on your ass with a taunt of, “You look like Shoto when he was a toddler. Don’t worry I didn’t help him either.” The only time he did help you, was to help you into the high barstool at the kitchen island. Making more jokes about you needing help getting into your highchair and asking if you needed him to feed you too.

You didn’t know if it was the fatigue or the teasing, but something had you in a foul mood. You flipped him off, ~I hate you~.

Dabi’s eyes softened in an almost annoyingly affectionate way, “No you don’t.” He handed you the bowl of ice cream you had begged for. “Good work today. I gave you an extra scoop.” He winked, took out his own spoon, and quickly stole a bite.

Your mouth hung open at his audacity. ~No! Wrong! Hate!~

He laughed loudly, “I said I gave you an extra scoop! You’re not gonna miss one bite!” He reached his spoon back out, “Just for that I’m gonna take another.”

You smacked his hand away and furrowed your eyebrows at him, ~Mine.~

He feigned shock, “I’m sorry… did you just… hit me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him and shoveled a huge bite of ice cream into your mouth. It was way too much and if you weren’t so intent on being a brat you would have laughed. Dabi however was in no laughing mood as he saw the melted ice cream dripping down your chin.

He reached out squished your cheeks together with one hand. He hovered over you, enjoying the height difference and absolutely losing it over the look of pure innocence in your eyes as the ice cream continued to slip past your lips. He leaned closer to you and whispered in a husky voice, “You’re making a mess… Now. Swallow.”

Your eyes connected with his and you obediently swallowed what was left of the ice cream. He swiped a thumb across your bottom lip to collect what was left before sucking into his mouth all the while keeping his eyes focused on yours.

You swear he was leaning in even closer when the loud clanging of your spoon hitting the table broke you apart.

He cleared his throat and pushed himself away from you. You had to focus really hard on not pouting. Why were you disappointed? Had you wanted him to kiss you? Or were you just horny again? This was a question you had been faced with a lot in your adult life, because as much as you hate to admit it… your quirk does make you a total horn dog. It’s been what? YEARS since you had good and proper sex.

You shuddered as you remembered back to the lab. You had sex there a few times… but… you couldn’t really say if it was any good on the account that you don’t remember most of it. What you did remember, you wish you didn’t. They hadn’t called it sex… they called it ‘research’, and boy where they a fan of their research.

Dabi lifted your chin to force you to look at him, “Hey where did you go just now?” He saw the tears pooling in your eyes and he felt a spike of panic at the thought the he was the cause of them. “Hey… hey I’m sorry. I take things too far sometimes.” He went to lower his hand but your gripped it and brought it back to your face. Needing his presence to anchor you to the present before you spiraled into memories of the past.

“Take a deep breath for me, okay. I need you to take a deep breath then I need you to hold it until I say so. Can you do that?” You hadn’t even realized your breathing had started to tighten until he said something. You nodded slowly as you tried to remember back to your hero training. You took a deep breath in through your nose. “Good girl. Now hold it and count to ten.” You did as he said before letting a shaky breath out of your mouth. “You’re doing great, just keep doing that. Is it okay if I pick you up?”

Your eyes widened. Did you want to be held? Or did you want to lock yourself in your room. You didn’t even know. You didn’t know what you wanted right now, what you needed. Would you find comfort in his embrace, or would you feel confined? So, you just stared back at him and shrugged.

“Law number one. I need a yes or no. You can do that. I know you can.” You gulped and nodded your head. He picked you up, but instead of picking you up bridal style like he usually did, he picked you up like he would a child. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

He walked you back to your room abandoning the rest of the ice cream to melt on the counter. You buried you face into his neck and you felt his fingers comb through your hair. He sat down on the bed and pulled you close to him. “I’ve had my fair share of anxiety attacks. They suck… ass. I get that. The only thing you can do is breath and try and clear you mind.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair, and you could feel your heartbeat start to slow down to match his. “So, uh… I guess I’ll try to distract you. I could tell you a story about me. Would you like that?”

You could already feel yourself starting to calm down, but you didn’t want to pass up on an opportunity to learn more about him, so you simply nodded and burrowed further into him.

You could feel him shift uncomfortably underneath you. “When I first got away from my family. I was just a dumb kid. I was angry and hell bent on proving to anyone who even looked my way that I was strong. Once I was running an errand for the league at a local market and I saw Shoto. It was after his accident, but his hair was a dead giveaway. He was there with Fuyumi, I think she was just trying to keep him busy.”

He leaned back and pulled you with him making the two of you more comfortable. “I saw his scar and was so sure that our dad did it. I was ready to hunt him down and kick his ass.” He sighed before letting out a small chuckle, “But then the squirt did the weirdest thing. It was like he was drawn to me. I looked nothing like the brother he knew. Black hair, scars, and staples, But he broke free of Fuyumi and ran straight towards me. Out of instinct I leaned down to pick him up, but he stopped right as he got to me. He put a hand up to my face and then to his own scar. He looked me square in the eyes and said ‘Ouch’ and then just ran away.”

You smiled, that definitely sounded like Todoroki. The more you thought about it, there were definitely some small similarities between the two brothers. Not that you’d mention that to either of them.

Dabi continued to talk and tell you stories until you eventually drifted off into dreams of young Dabi and what he would have been like. Your mind conjured up images of him in a UA uniform. Him competing in a sports festival. Him in a library studying for exams.

Unfortunately, your dreams didn’t last long. You woke a few hours later with a stabbing pain in your abdomen. You whimpered as you tried to roll over in an attempt to find a position that would alleviate the pain. Instead you rolled straight into the lean body of Dabi. Oh no. Dabi. You needed to get cleaned up before he woke up.

You tried to roll away from him, but his arm snaked around you and pulled you closer, “Y/n? What’s wrong? Have a bad dream?” He remembered that he wasn’t going to get a verbal answer, so he opened his eyes to see you looking absolutely miserable. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

You nodded but then winced when a really bad cramp rocked through you. You had always had really painful periods, but you hadn’t had to feel it in it’s full affects in years.

“Bullshit, you don’t look okay. Are you sick?”

Not even bothering to answer, you pushed away from him and slowly made your way to the bathroom. He leaned over to turn the bedside lamp on and that’s when it clicked for him. “Holy shit! How are you even alive, that’s a fuck ton of blood. I’ve been stabbed before and I didn’t bleed that much.”

You knew he was just being dramatic, but it still made you cringe that he was witnessing this. You could hear him stripping the sheets as you turned the shower on. Now all your recent mood swings made sense. Just last night you had been pissed, horny, and crying all in the span of several minutes. Stupid hormones.

When you stepped out of the shower there was a box of tampons and a box of pads sitting on the counter next to the sink. Just seeing them made you pout. You fucking hated your period.

You stepped out once you were dressed and heard the buzz of the dryer. Surely there was no way Dabi had cleaned the sheet that fast. You walked out of the bedroom to see him rushing towards you with a massive blanket. He stopped when he saw you standing in the hallway. “Uh… okay. So, game plan. I warmed up a blanket. I have Fruits Basket queued up and chocolate chip pancakes are on stand bye.”

Your eyes widened ~How?~

“How what? How did I know?” You nodded and he you swear to god he blushed. “I uh… I may have texted my brother. Who texted Bakugo, who called me, and now here we are.”

That made more sense. Katsuki had always been the only one who could handle your mood swings when you were menstruating. Everyone else claimed you were too scary. When you were younger your quirk would become unpredictable and it would randomly activate at the most inconvenient times. Your quirk used to be heavily influenced by your emotions, and when your monthly cycle came around it was almost impossible to control your emotions.

It took him a few tries but eventually Katsuki got the routine down. Warm blanket, something sweet, and some sappy anime, which we’d never admit it, but he actually loved.

You accepted the blanket from him and hobbled towards the couch. You pulled your knees to your chest in an attempt to get comfortable. Dabi disappeared but quickly returned with the pancakes. “I’m an idiot for not thinking about this. It obviously was going to happen at some point. You’ve been here for about three weeks.”

~Thank you~ You took the pancakes from him and he gave you a weird look.

“Okay I’m not good at the whole taking care of others thing. So… do I leave you alone? Do you expect me to watch this shit with you?”

You glared at him as you ate your pancakes and because you were already in a bad mood… you shrugged. Did you do it on purpose to piss him off. Of course.

He growled before throwing himself down on the couch next to you. “You’re lucky you don’t feel good you fucking brat. I’m really trying to be nice.”

You ignored him and hit play. You knew you were being ridiculous, but you also couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you wanted his attention any way you could get it. You finished your pancakes and were about two episodes into the show, but your cramps hadn’t subsided. You whined as you hugged the blanket around you and started to toss around trying to find a position, any position that would help with your cramps.

You thought Dabi had fallen back asleep, so you were scared shitless when his arms wrapped around you and pulled you down onto his chest. He was laying on his back pinning your chest to his. You could barely see the blue of his eyes in the dark. He looked so tired though. “Just smack me if it’s too much… but do you trust me?”

You bit your lip but nodded anyways. You knew by now that Dabi would stop if you asked him to. So, while you were nervous about what he was going to do, you also trusted him to listen to you.

He reached his hands around and pushed his hands just past the waistband of your sleeping shorts. Your breath hitched but his hands stopped there. You wondered what he was doing, but then his hands started to heat up and oh shit did it feel good. It was like he was your own personal heating pad.

You hummed into his neck and shifted a little bit to sink further into him. You hiked one of your legs up and wiggled to push yourself into his hands more, chasing the warm comfort.

You stayed like that for a while. The tops of his fingers ghosting over the curve of your ass as his palms pressed into your lower back. It was honestly impressive how he his hands were just hot enough to feel good without burning you.

Dabi sucked in a breath, “You like that huh?” He pulled you closer to him. His hands started to knead into your lower back as he buried his nose into your hair. You let out a groan at how good it felt. Before you could stop yourself you grinded down on his thigh. “Oh, you really like it…” You could hear the playful note in his voice. “Like I said… stop me if it’s too much.”

You knew what direction this was heading, and you didn’t care because it felt so good. His hands slipped lower and grabbed your ass and started to massage your cheeks before pulling you down hard into his thigh. “I heard somewhere…” His mouth was at your ear now nipping at the shell of it. “That the best thing for period cramps…” He moved his thigh up to meet your center as his hands pulled you down and moved you back and forth. “Is an orgasm.” Your fingers found his shirt and gripped onto it while you started to ride his thigh. “I would be selfish not to help you out.” His lips found your neck and he pressed gentle featherlike kisses there, making you sigh. “Take what you need from me baby.”

He gave your ass a hard squeeze before giving it a slap. “Fuck, your ass is perfect.” He gripped your hair and pulled you back and his lips met yours and you moaned at how delicious it was. This. This is what you needed. You needed someone to make you forget. To make you feel like you weren’t some fragile and broken toy. He was letting you take the lead while he maintained all of the control.

Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Your quirk activated and in your touch you could feel his overwhelming desire. You could also feel hesitation. He must be worried about pushing you too far. You pushed your lust back at him through your touch to reassure him you were more than okay this. He growled and deepened your kiss before yanking himself away. “Fuck Y/n! I-I think you’re quirk triggered. You smell… god you smell so fucking good!”

You grit your teeth. You wanted to tell him sorry, but the words wouldn’t leave your lips. His hands came to your hips and pulled you, so you were now grinding on his already hard dick. Your hands stopped his as you shook your head no. Now you were worried you were the one taking advantage of him. You knew your smell could be overwhelming.

He panted as he bucked up, “No, please don’t stop on my account. It’s fucking hot. I promise you y/n… if you ever let me…” One of his hands found it’s way back to your ass while the other snaked into your shorts and started to rub your clit through your underwear. “I’ll show you what it feels like to be fucking worshiped.”

You felt your orgasm quickly building and Dabi could tell. He could see the way your chest heaved and he could feel the way you began to frantically snap your hips. He kissed up your neck while he picked up the speed on your clit. “You want to know why?” He bucked his hips hard up into yours. “Because you’re a good girl. You are MY good girl.”

That was all you needed. You shook and your thighs squeezed around him. He kept going to help you ride it out as long as possible. You felt all your tension bleed out. All of the stress of the past couple days, hell the past couple weeks, didn’t even matter anymore. And all you did was ride his thigh.

When you finally had enough you grabbed his hand and squeezed. Panting you nuzzled back up to him and his hands trailed up and down your spine. “That’s my girl. Good job.” He kissed the top of your head and pulled the blanket back up over you. “Now let’s get some sleep.” We can skip the routine tomorrow. We can just do this instead. One day off won’t kill you.”

You hummed as you melted into him. Your eyes drooped closed and the last thing you remembered was Dabi grabbing your thigh and hitching your leg over his waist.

“The gag won’t be enough. We need to make sure she doesn’t even have the option of talking.” That voice sent chills down your spine. It belonged to the man you only knew as Dr. A3. They never used their names around you. Just an extra precaution in case you were to escape. Dr. A3 was the one who seemed to be in charge of all our your “experiments”. He was psychotic and you hate him with every cell in your body.

You were back on that table. You opened your eyes, but you couldn’t see anything but the blindfold.

“I can handle that, but my quirk will eventually ware off.” That was Cogernot. He was technically a villain who was being held in the same way you were. His quirk allowed him to manipulate with people’s cognition. He could turn off your senses, mess with your memories, and so much more. It was common that they grouped the two of you together in the lab.

“That’s fine how long do you think it’ll last?”

Cogernot sighed, “It’s different with every person but the more often I do it the longer it’ll last. But you have to be careful. If I mess with her too much it could become permanent.”

Dr. A3 laughed, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. If that girl were able to talk, she could easily escape, or even worse she could make us all kill one another.” He ran a hand through your tangled hair and you winced in pain. “Besides girls like her are meant to be seen and not heard. We have another girl here who can walk through people’s dreams and convince them to do all kinds of stuff. We don’t need y/n’s honeyed words anymore. Do it.”

“If you say so… But don’t come crying to me when I accidentally break your favorite toy.”

You felt a hand press to your forehead, and you felt something snap.

Your eyes slowly opened, and you found that you were still laying on top of Dabi in his living room. You were able to keep your panic at bay by slowly breathing and counting in your head. You matched your breathing to Dabi’s, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

You looked at his sleeping face. He looked so different like this, when he wasn’t yelling at you or teasing you. A flush came over your cheeks when you remembered what happened earlier that morning. You traced your finger over the staples under his eyes.

His hand flew up and grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you?” He didn’t even bother to open his eyes, so you shoved on his shoulder to make him look at you. “I literally just woke up and you’re already begging for attention.” It drove you crazy that he wouldn’t open his eyes to look at you. The asshole knew you couldn’t talk…. Couldn’t talk.

The dream came crashing back to you. You pushed yourself off of him and went in search for your journal.

“Wait y/n… come on. Come back. I’ll open my eyes. Don’t throw a fucking temper tantrum over it Jesus.”

You came back with your journal and sat down on the table that was across from the couch and started to write everything you could remember about your dream. Dabi sat up and tried to smooth his hand up your thigh but you paused your writing long enough to slap it away. ~Not now~

“There’s no way you’re that mad. Come on what are you writing. Is this our first fight? Are fighting right now? That’s cute.”

You scowled as you shoved your journal in his face. The look on his face went from amused to concerned as he started reading.

“Wait that’s where Cogernot has fucking been this whole time? We thought he died.” He looked at you “How many times did he use his quirk on you?”

You shrugged and for once he didn’t yell at you for it.

He ran a hand through his white hair. “So, if this is really just his quirk and not some kind of trauma then it should ware off soon. That idiots quirk usually only lasts for a couple of hours though, sometimes a few days. I’ve never seen it last this long.” He stood up and started to pace. You watched him go back and forth a few times before he threw his hands in the air, “Shit!” He picked up a pillow and it immediately turned to ash.

He looked back to you and saw the alarm in your eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m overreacting. It’s just – That fucking idiot may have permanently fucked you up.” You cringed at his words. Was that how he saw you? Fucked up?

He started pacing again, “He told me once there was a way to override his quirk though. You just have to convince your brain that it’s dying. Something about that kicks it into gear and nullifies his quirk.” He looked to the pool and then to you. “We could drown you! I know CPR, it’ll be fine.”

~NO NO NO~ The look in Dabi’s eyes was starting to scare you. He looked like he was ready to do it no matter what you said. As much as you wanted to talk again, you didn’t think it was worth risking your life over. But apparently, he did. Apparently learning sign, and reading your journal was just too much work for him. If he was this desperate to fix it… if he was willing to drown you just so you could talk….

You were ripped from your thoughts when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked and hit him while tears streamed down your cheeks. There was no way he would go through with this… right?

You heard the sliding glass door open and all the sudden you were only steps away from the pool. You couldn’t see into his eyes, you couldn’t see what was going on in that fucked up head of his. You slid a hand under his shirt right before he got to the pool and did the only thing you could think of. You showed him how scared you were. You made him feel that terror. He paused only for a moment before jumping in the pool.

He let go only for a few seconds just so he could pull your back to his chest and whisper into your hair. “I know you’re going to hate me, but eventually you will think me for this.”

And then he was shoving you under. You clawed at his arms, ripping several of his staples out. You poured all of your terror and your pain into your touch and grabbed his wrists that were holding you under.

This was fucked up, this was so fucked up. You didn’t want to die. Why was he doing this? He didn’t even know if it would work! Your panic wasn’t making it any easier. You were losing oxygen fast and before you knew it you were starting to black out. You were going to die… You were going to drown in the same pool he had held you in so sweetly and helped you rehabilitate in. Your fingers ceased their scratching and your arms fell limp.

He didn’t bring you back up until you had stopped moving completely. He pulled you back up to the surface and immediately laid you down on the hard-concrete outside of the pool. In seconds he was on you preforming CPR. “Come on… You’re strong. You can take a little drowning. Hell, I’ve drowned a few times. Well I’ve been waterboarded… I don’t know if that exactly the same thing.” He nervously babbled to your unconscious body as he continued his chest compressions. “Come on y/n! Fuck!” He pinched your nose and breathed into you. Just a few hours ago his lips had been on yours for an entirely different reason and he desperately wished he could go back to that moment now.

He continued his chest compressions tears pooling in his eyes. “COME ON Y/N!” He did this. This was his fault. His father was right about him. The world was right about him. He’s a monster. He was supposed to be protecting you. You trusted him and he did this to you. He had felt your fear, your pain, and he did it anyway.

The thought of you never getting to talk again had thrown him into a panic. The thought of those fuckers taking apart of who you were away from you made him see red. He acted impulsively and now he’s paying the price.

“WAKE UP! PLEASE!”

You coughed and water came flooding out of your mouth. He cried out in relief and rolled you onto your side and patted your back to help you expel the water from your lungs.

It fucking burned. Your throat was raw from the chlorine and your brain was foggy from the lack of oxygen.

“Y/n… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I-I don’t even know what to say.”

He reached his hand out to touch your face but you caught it. You stared into his eyes with as much hate as a person could have and gripped his hand so hard you could feel your nails cutting into his skin, “Fuck… You…”

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Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry

[gretavansidecut]

Room to Breathe

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 4,297

Summary: You're out at a crowded bar with the boys and start to have a panic attack from all the sensory overload and your crush Josh helps you through it

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, general angst, detailed descriptions of sensory overload, anxiety, and spiraling negative thoughts. If you find any of these things to be triggering or otherwise upsetting, please proceed with extreme caution!

A/N:  So I haven't written a fic in like... God, six years maybe? But this idea popped into my head the other night and just wouldn't leave so I figured what the heck, why not give this writing thing another try? I had an absolute blast writing this, and I hope you all enjoy it!

     You held your head in your hands, trying your best to steady your breathing as you took refuge in the bathroom stall. The pounding, brain-rattling music of the honky-tonk was slightly more bearable in the relative quiet of the restroom, but you still found yourself grinding your teeth as the noise was beginning to get to you. Densely packed places were always a challenge; you weren't necessarily afraid of crowds, or claustrophobic, or anything like that, it was more that the combination of the overbearing noise and the feeling of being packed in like a sardine tended to make you a little... Panicky, to say the least. It didn't help that just getting into the bar in the first place nearly gave you sensory overload either. But you weren't about to bail early if you could help it, and you weren’t about to let a little creeping panic ruin a night on the town with the guys of Greta Van Fleet, especially not when Josh was the one who'd invited you to come along. Besides, you could handle a crowded, noisy bar for one night, right?

     The sudden slamming of the bathroom door made you jump in your stall, the rowdy voices of drunk patrons shattering whatever peace you'd had up to that point. You let out a heavy sigh, figuring it was for the best as you'd already been in there for at least five minutes. Any longer and the guys might've started to get worried, or worse, come looking for you. You emerged from your stall, ignoring the drunk people and their slurred conversation to your left as you washed your hands, and then taking a moment to splash some water on your face. Just the thought of going back out into the noise and crowd was enough to make your chest tighten, and you couldn’t help but feel a little pissed off at the current situation. You’d been looking forward to this night out for over a week; a chance to properly spend time with the guys outside of work after doing odd jobs around their studio for the last few months, and you’d especially been looking forward to spending some time with Josh. As much as you hated to admit it, you’d developed a little bit of a crush on him over the course of working at the studio, but you figured there was no harm in dreaming as long as you kept things platonic and professional. He seemed to enjoy your company and laugh at your jokes, and you definitely enjoyed his in return. 

     You let out another shaky breath, taking a few more seconds to steel yourself before heading back out there. You knew this place would be packed, and you’d been ready for it, honestly you had. But today had just been one of those aggravating days, the kind where every little thing seemed to go wrong and rub you the wrong way. And when that happened, the panic would tend to creep in more easily, and with greater intensity. Still, you resolved to hold yourself together as best you could and not ruin the evening, glancing at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were presentable, before turning around and reentering the bar.

     All at once, the blaring music and roar of the crowd hit you, and you couldn't even hear yourself think. There were flashing neon lights hung up on every wall, a few TVs scattered here and there playing some sports channels, and people zipping about all over the place. It felt like your whole head was ringing, your eyes and ears begging for mercy already as you made your way back to the far corner of the room where the boys’ table was. You could eventually pick out Josh's boisterous laughter through the mayhem, and the four of them came into view just in time for you to see Josh lob a pretzel about 4 feet into the air, only for Jake to expertly and effortlessly catching it in his mouth. Danny and Sam both cheered at once, each of them swiftly downing a shot of tequila as Josh shared a high five with his twin.

     "Hell yeah Jakey, ten in a row, that's a new record!" He exclaimed in triumph, grabbing his glass and finishing what was left of his salty dog in one gulp. When he was done, he noticed you approaching the table and his eyes immediately lit up, though whether that was because of you or the sudden rush of alcohol you weren’t sure. Still, it was always nice to see him smile, even when you felt like you were on the verge of losing your mind.

     "Heeey, Y/N's back! Now we can get this party going again!" He slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side as he grinned from ear to ear. In any other situation your hopeless crush on him would make you nervous if he got this close to you, but after your perilous trek to the bathroom and back a little contact from someone besides a total stranger was more than welcome.

     "Yeah, what took you so long?" Jake teased, popping another pretzel into his mouth. "We were starting to think you'd fallen into the sewers or something!"

     "No, that's what you thought Jake, me 'n Sam were betting they'd run off and joined the circus!" Danny added with a grin, his words slightly slurred from the tequila at this point.

     You swallowed tightly, flashing them a half-forced grin as you shook your head. “Guys, c’mon, be reasonable here, it was nothing like that... What really happened was an alligator popped up out of the toilet and we had a riveting conversation about quantum physics and string theory.”

     The guys erupted into laughter; Jake covering his mouth so he didn’t accidentally spit out his pretzel, Josh cackling to your left, Sam almost choking on his beer, and Danny holding his face in his palm as he snickered drunkenly. Even in your heightened state of anxiety, you couldn't help but genuinely laugh along with them in the moment. After all, even in a stressful situation the guys were still a hoot to be around. They each had their own oddball sense of humor that made you, a fellow oddball, feel right at home with them. And the fact that Josh's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder was pretty nice too. It was almost enough to make the blaring noise and packed-in-like-sardines feeling of the bar bearable... Almost.

     You were able to keep it together enough to have another round of drinks with them, finding solace in a simple vodka cranberry as the guys got drunker and more boisterous. Danny and Sam decided to have an arm wrestling contest, which Danny won quite easily given his drummer's arms, though that didn’t stop Sam from challenging him to a rematch, and still losing, five more times. Then Jake ended up slipping into his Oliver Reed impression, made all the more credible in his intoxicated state, and he began to ramble on about how wild and wonderful the filming of Tommy had been. Josh of course piped in when he could, commentating on Danny and Sam’s contest like a sports announcer and slipping into his own goofy voice as he ”interviewed” Mr. Reed. If this were happening anywhere else, literally anywhere else besides an overcrowded bar in the most overcrowded part of Nashville, you would've been having the absolute time of your life. But instead you found yourself getting more and more tense with each moment that passed by, the pounding noise and mass of shifting bodies behind you making your pulse race and your head ache. Your drink had done absolutely nothing to calm your nerves, and not even the continued feeling of Josh's arm on your shoulder seemed to help, and you were starting to resent the fact that you couldn't even enjoy that.

     You finally hit your limit when you felt the sharp point of someone's elbow jab into the middle of your back, and you flinched hard away from the source of the sudden contact. You could feel Josh’s arm tighten around your shoulder slightly, and everyone's heads whipped around to see a young woman, clearly drunk and looking very apologetic.

     "O-oh shit, I'm so sorry sweetie!" She slurred out, steadying herself on her feet. "Didn't mean t'hitcha! Jus' tryin' to get s'more drinks for my table!"

     The guys all nodded, assuring her it was and honest mistake and she gave them all a smile and a wave as she staggered off towards the bar. You, on the other hand, couldn’t even bring yourself to look at her, your eyes locked on an empty glass on the table as the ringing in your head became unbearable, every nerve and muscle in your body suddenly taut like a bowstring. The guys kept talking, though what about you had no clue, unable to make out what they were saying as your own pulse pounded in your ears. In the back of your mind you thought you could feel Josh's thumb rubbing gently against your shoulder, almost in a soothing kind of motion, but you honestly couldn't be sure right now. Every molecule in your body was struggling to keep it together as you quickly spiraled into a frenzied panic, and the only thing you were absolutely positive was true was that you had to get out of there fast.

     "Hey... You alright?" Josh's voice was suddenly clear and crisp in your ears like a bell, and it was enough to snap you out of your spiral for just a second and address the table. Though the way Jake, Sam, and Danny were looking at you expectantly made you feel like you wanted to run and hide under a rock. If there was one thing you hated more than having a breakdown in public, it was people knowing you were having a breakdown in public.

     "O-oh yeah, I'm good! Sh-she just startled me is all..." Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed dryly as you fought back tears. "I... I'm just gonna s-step outside for a second and get some air, yeah?" You said with a plastered-on smile, doing your best to not let them know anything was wrong as you reluctantly wormed your way out of Josh's grip and made your way towards the nearest door. You pushed your way through the crowd, ignoring the protests as you bumped into several people along the way, struggling to focus long enough to make it to your goal. You could feel your throat tightening, hot tears stinging your eyes as shame and embarrassment crept into your panic stricken mind. ‘Seriously? You couldn't even handle one night out in a crowded bar? You just had to let your sort-of-crappy day get to you and ruin everyone's night, didn't you?’

     Finally reaching the door, you stumbled out of it, desperately trying to catch your breath as you welcomed the sudden rush of fresh air. Unfortunately, in your panic, the door you ended up choosing wasn’t the one that led to the bar's outdoor area like you thought, but the front door, and you suddenly found yourself adrift in the churning tide of rowdy, drunken humanity that was the Broadway strip on a Friday night. You didn't even bother trying to hold the tears back at this point, completely overwhelmed and hyperventilating as you found the quietest spot in sight, an empty doorway on the other side of the bar's front windows, and sank to the ground. You hugged your knees tightly as you brought them up to your chest, shaking as you buried your face in your arms, the blaring noise, blinding lights, and sheer presence of the crowd causing you to shut down on the spot.

     The feeling of a hand on your shoulder jolted you out of your stupor, and you scrambled away from the touch as fast as you could with a startled scream. You were fully prepared to yell at whatever stranger had just touched you, because the last thing you needed right now was some rando putting their hands on you. To your mix of shock and relief, it was Josh's face that you saw, his eyes a little wide as he held up both of his hands in a defensive manner.

     "Easy Y/N, it's just me, it’s Josh!" He said as softly as he could while still being audible over the throng of the crowd. You couldn't find it in you to respond, just staring at him like a deer caught in a car’s headlights as your body started to shake uncontrollably. You suddenly realized there was, in fact, something you hated more than people knowing you were having a breakdown in public, and that was your goddamn crush knowing that you were having a breakdown in public. In the back of your panic-stricken mind you wondered, if you just stayed still long enough, whether Josh would just turn around and leave you alone. You realized just how futile that thought was when he did quite the opposite and extended a hand out to you.

     "It's pretty intense out here. Let's go find a quieter spot, alright?"

     The rest of your body still shaking, you nodded your head eagerly, accepting his hand as he pulled you up off the ground. Once you were standing, he let go of your hand and wrapped that same arm around your waist, pulling you in close to his side as he cocked his head in one direction.

     "You're ok, just stay close to me, I'll get you out of here."

     You hastily nodded again, unable to make words or maintain eye contact as you turned your gaze to the concrete below you and let Josh guide you through the sea of bodies. It felt like you were in there forever, the crowd shifting all around you, and any time you felt someone get too close, your body began to lock up and freeze. The only thing that kept you upright and moving was Josh's arm curled around your side, keeping you grounded as he led you away from the worst of the crowd. Eventually it dawned on you that the number of people around you were thinning out, the noise getting less and less intense as Josh led you up a street and then some kind of steep ramp. A cool rush of air and the sudden smell of water hit your nostrils and you glanced upwards to get your bearings just in time to realize that Josh was leading you over the river on the pedestrian bridge, towards the eastern side of the city and away from the bedlam of Broadway. You were about three quarters of the way over the bridge before he pulled you off to the side, leading you right up to the railing where you could clearly feel the breeze. The cacophony you'd just escaped from was still very much audible from this distance, but you found its volume to be much more bearable now. There was also plenty of room out here, as well as far fewer people, and for the first time since you'd entered the bar earlier that night, you felt like you could finally breathe.

     You leaned forward, bracing yourself against the railing as you took deep breaths in through your nose, before slowly exhaling through your mouth, and you could feel your body ever so slowly start to relax more and more with each one you took. Josh was quiet for the time being, his hand moving from your side to your back and rubbing up and down in a soothing motion while you caught your breath. Despite feeling calmer, the tears were more difficult to stop, anger and embarrassment at yourself nagging you in the back of your mind, unable to shake the feeling that you'd just ruined whatever fun he'd been having that night.

     You felt something soft touch your arm and you looked up to see a packet of tissues in Josh's other hand as he offered them to you, still silently rubbing your back. You happily accepted them, tearing the plastic open and grabbing a couple before reaching up and wiping your face, your breath still hitching here and there as you tried to steady yourself mentally. After a few more moments of quiet you finally heard Josh speak up, his voice soft and concerned.

     "How're you doing? Any better?"

     You bit your lip out of nerves, nodding as you finally worked up the courage to look him in the eye for the first time since leaving the doorway by the bar. You were expecting to see anger, annoyance, judgement; honestly all the things you felt about yourself right now reflected back at you in his face, but instead you saw nothing but sympathy and concern painted across his features. In any other situation you'd be positively swooning over how he was looking at you so tenderly. It was another couple moments before the ability to speak finally came back to you, and you let out a heavy, shaking sigh.

     “Y-yeah I… I’m alright now…. Thanks.” you trailed off, trying to swallow down the shame that had been slowly creeping into your mind. “I… I’m so sorry about this… I d-didn’t mean to ruin everyone’s night.”

     “Ok, first of all-” Josh said in a calm but firm voice, his palm on your back pressing into you a bit more and pulling you closer to him. “We’re not gonna do that tonight, alright? You didn’t ruin damn thing, you had a panic attack and that’s not your fault.” It took everything in you to not star crying again when he said that, though at least this time it would've been because you were touched by his concern and not because you were upset.

     “And second, I should be the one apologizing to you. That street can be really intense if you’re not ready for it, and I should’ve checked with you ahead of time that you were. I never would’ve picked such a crowded spot if I knew that was gonna be an issue for you.”

     You sniffled a little bit, shaking your head as you slowly pulled yourself together. “I-it’s ok, really... Like, normally I can handle crowds and loud noise, but being packed in like that, with everyone bumping into you and all the noise and lights on top of it... that can just be too much for me to handle sometimes, you know?” You watched as Josh nodded along to what you spoke, indicating that he was listening, and knowing that he wasn't going to judge you for how you reacted was helping the residual panic and shame you still felt fade away.

     “And then on top of that, today just like.... kind of sucked, in general. I mean, nothing terrible happened or anything, but it was a whole bunch of little things, one after the other. I totally fucked up making breakfast, my cat threw up on my favorite pair of shoes, I got a parking ticket for a really ridiculous reason, and I have some other work deadlines coming up that’re stressing me out, so I already wasn’t in the best headspace to deal with all of...That tonight.” you gestured your hand back towards the direction of Broadway. 

     "Then when that chick jabbed me in the back it just... snapped something inside me. I-I know it was an accident, and I don’t blame her for what she did, but it honestly startled me so bad, and I just lost it..."

     "I don’t blame you,” he replied sympathetically “That’s entirely too much shit to deal with in a single day.” 

     "And like... I-I know I could’ve asked for a raincheck, but I didn't wanna like, be rude or have you guys think I was blowing you off. Because I didn’t want to blow you guys off! Especially not for something so stupid..."

     "Hey, it's not stupid at all." He replied adamantly, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Those kind of crappy days have a way if wearing you down way harder than you’d think." 

     You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as it felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You’d been so, so worried that Josh was going to be angry, or that he wouldn’t have understood what had happened, as had been the case for you so many times before. His hand began gently rubbing your back again in a soothing motion, and the two of you slipped into silence for a moment, letting the cool breeze coming off of the river wash over you. Even with the music still pounding in the distance, you could hear the sound of the river rushing under you if you listened closely enough, and so you did, finding the sound incredibly soothing. It was almost hypnotizing in a way, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed before Josh spoke again, but when he did, you were a little surprised by what he had to say.

     “I know a couple smaller clubs on the outskirts of the city we could check out next time. They've still got all the good drinks and music, but they aren’t nearly as intense as that one was.” he suggested, flashing you a warm smile.

     “I mean, don’t get me wrong, those definitely sound like my kind of place. But you seriously want me to hang out with you guys again after that whole mess?”

     “Of course! So you had a bad night, it happens to the best of us. We aren’t gonna hold it against you. Besides, why wouldn’t we wanna hang out with someone as awesome as you?”

     You let out a small chuckle,  a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as nervous blush crept onto your cheeks. “Well, I’m not sure about awesome... but I’m glad to know you guys enjoy my company.”

     “What, are you kidding me?” he retorted enthusiastically, his dark eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the bridge. “You’re absolutely awesome! You’re so nice and welcoming to everyone, you’ve got an incredible sense of humor, great taste in music, and you are delightfully weird!” You were glad the lighting on the bridge wasn’t the best where you were standing, because your face was rapidly turning red as he kept showering you with compliments. 

     “Well, thank you.” You replied somewhat shyly, a grin spreading across your face as you found Josh’s good mood infectious, feeling much more at ease now than you had earlier. In a sudden streak of boldness you struck a small pose, with one hand framing your face dramatically. “But what, no mention of my flawless good looks?”

     You were just kidding around, of course, and Josh knew you were too. But even still, you couldn't help but notice the way Josh’s eyes widened and his smile twitched ever so slightly when you said that, or how he seemed to be blushing if the way his cheekbones suddenly appeared darker were anything to go by. 

     “I mean...” he began with a small shrug, his smile downright sheepish at this point “That’s so incredibly obvious that I kinda figured it went without saying. But they’re definitely a bonus!”

     You let out a nervous laugh, feeling your face burn from the sudden rush of blood to it, and you turned to face back towards the river. You couldn’t keep looking at him when he said that, not when he said it while he had his hand on your back, not when he was blushing while he said it, not when he said it so... so earnestly. You pressed into his side a bit more firmly, and you swore you could feel his heart beating faster in his chest.

     “Yeah, well... don’t sell yourself short, you’ve got a face that could give Errol Flynn a run for his money.” you half-teased, nudging him affectionately in the ribs with your elbow. He let out a small chuckle beside you, his arm still firmly wrapped around your shoulder and he gave your arm a soft, affectionate squeeze in return. The two of you said nothing for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company and touch as you both gazed out over the river, watching the lights of the city twinkle and glimmer on it’s dark surface.

     “Is... is it cool if we just stay up here for a little while?” you asked, suddenly feeling very physically tired after this whole ordeal. “I hate to just ditch the others and leave them in that bar, but I honestly don’t think I could handle going back in there tonight.”

     “Oh don’t worry, a bar is the best place we could possibly leave them.” Josh said with a chuckle. “But seriously, we can stay out here as long as you need.” he assured, giving you a firm hug from the side and flashing you a soft, reassuring smile. “We don’t have to go anywhere.”

     A sudden surge of warmth and fatigue washed over you, and you found yourself leaning more heavily into Josh’s frame, which he seemed to welcome, finally letting your head come to rest on his shoulder. Your eyes slipped closed for a second, and you took a deep breath before letting out a soft, contented sigh.

     “Thank you so much for everything you did for me tonight. I seriously can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” He hummed softly in reply as he leaned back against you, the weight of his cheek suddenly pressing into the top of your head. 

     “Anytime, Y/N. I’ll always have your back.”

[keilemlucent]

half-day

hawks | takami keigo x reader 

word count: ~3k

absence helps the heart grow wounds 

warnings: reader takes medication, angst, sad uwu 

beta’ed: @hawnks

a/n: so in the middle of all the horny, here’s some angsty, SFW, hurt/comfort i wrote as a vent. enjoy 💗

...

“Did you take your meds yet?”

You paused on the edge of the bed, rubbing at your eyes with the inside of your wrist.

“No, I forgot. Sorry.”

You kicked yourself for how weak your voice came out.

Keigo’s wings drooped, though you could only tell by the wide shadow they cast on the wall of your shared bedroom.

It was late, far too late for you to be awake, but you’d forced yourself to stay lucid and somewhat lively to wait for Keigo to arrive home after patrol. It wasn’t something you did often, as he so often was kept past his scheduled hours.

This night was no different.

He’d come through the balcony door in the early hours of the morning, sighing harshly and kicking off his boots with a huff before even noticing you blinking at him from the couch.

And with a single look, his heart sank.

Keigo wasn’t an idiot.

You looked so tired.

Your eyes were shadowed, punched with sleepless bags and the corners of your pretty lips pulled down and taut. You worried your hands, picking at your cuticles and fingernails.

You mustered up a smile, and fuck, if it wasn’t one of the weakest things he’d seen in a long time.

He’d been quick to whisk the two of you off to bed after that. A short shower later, he slung on some sweats and draped a towel over his shoulders. He tried to keep his look casual, despite his own exhaustion, aches and anxiety.

Because you looked shitty.  

Not that you ever looked bad, Keigo had seen you in any number of states. Fucked up, fucked out, bright and shining like the sun itself and tear-streaked—

But none hurt in the same way or as much as he’d been seeing you lately.

When he crept into the bedroom, your gaze was vacant, trained on the floor as you picked at a hangnail on your thumb.

So he asked about your meds, just probing, seeing where you were at.

Truthfully, Keigo’s work had been keeping him from home, though he wasn’t actively avoiding you like this.

But, he did have the undeniable knowledge that his absence was hurting you.

Guilt.

“You don’t need to be sorry, dove,” Keigo slipped next to you on the sheets, letting his wings stretch out and back over the thrown back covers. “Do you want some fresh water?”

You shook your head, silent, as you grabbed your pill organizer from your nightstand.

Keigo eyed the old glass of water, frowning. He could practically see the dust settling on the surface of the stale liquid.

“Are you sure—”

“It’s fine, Kei’, let’s just go to bed,” Your voice was so hollow, half-broken and swallowed up by the gulp of water you took down with your meds.

Keigo managed to keep a grin on his face, but it was hard.

He couldn’t restrain himself from taking your cheeks in his hands, worrying your undereyes with his thumbs the moment you set the murky glass down.

You didn’t say anything, just sagged into his grip, brow creasing.

There was a tension in the air, but nothing that could be cut or the kind that could easily immolate. This was the kind of sluggish frustration that pulled on your muscles and ligaments like gummy syrup.

It dragged the two of you down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You spoke without thinking, your hands inching towards his knees.

Why was he?

“Lots of reasons, the first being that I love you,” Keigo reminded you, softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It was all the touch you needed to fall into his shoulders, pressing your face into the wet towel around his neck.

It would’ve been cumbersome, a deterrent from fully touching him, but in that moment, it soaked up the budding tears at the corners of your eyes.

He didn’t need to know how poorly you were doing.

Why did his little affections send you spiraling?

Why did each of his touches feel like aloe to a wound that was deep and tarry, impossibly endless and nothing that could be tackled in a night?

Why did it hurt so good?

“I don’t want to hear the others,” you told him, squeezing his covered knee. “I think I know. I’m sad, not dumb.”

Your quip earned you a half-hearted chuckle, Keigo smoothing a hand up and down your spine.

“Can you lay with me?”

You gave a wordless answer, slipping into the sheets with him while feebly rubbing at your eyes.

Keigo sends a few feathers to click off the bedside lamps, keeping on a small light atop the dresser, the kind that throws pinpricks of faux stars onto the ceiling in oscillating little rings.

It was a false comfort, but you’d both take it.

You laid facing each other, naked in mind and body by then.

With your cheek squished into your pillow, it was even easier to see the tear tracks and worry that you carried.

Keigo had to be careful, he knew he had to, if he pushed you too hard for your words or feelings, you could just lockup, deflect and drift off into fitless sleep yet again.

You didn’t make him reach for too long, didn’t let him worry himself for very long, before you spoke up, weakly, and interrupted his thoughts.

“We’re okay, right, Kei’?”

The question sent splinters of worry into the tender flesh of his heart.

Keigo responded instantly, dragging your body into his as his feathers twitched and ruffled, “Yes, yes, we’re completely okay, better than, I love— “

“I know,” You pressed your face into his sternum, locking an arm over his lower back. “I know you love me.”

You still sounded so empty.

Keigo didn’t know what to do, fuck, he was grasping for even what to say.

“How can I make it better?”

He had to try, right?

Maybe that was the reason why he’d been rushing off so often and for so long lately, without rest, no matter how he felt.

He was a hero, his job was to make things better. He wanted to fix things, mend and stitch the ills and pains of others.

Yet, the person closest to him was splitting at the seams.

Work had been busy, busier than normal, and it just gave him the excuse to avoid his personal problems, like any sane, normal person.

Maybe, he was justified in shoving off the weight of everything, maybe, but only because every time he asked how he could help, you’d just say—

“You can’t, Kei’. It’s okay.”

Just like you did then.

Except, in the past, your voice would just echo from your lips as you gave him a sad smile.

This time?

Your voice broke and your breath hitched as you tried to tug him closer.

He can feel your tears wet his chest.

You tried to fight for so long.

You still were, notably. Against the loneliness and against the odds of your odd relationship, you smiled and mused your way through the struggles of it. You loved Keigo, and the burdens were bearable. They were never from him, they were from the fucked circumstances of his employment and the conditions around it.

You had a deep, heartfelt understanding of this. It was communicated about since the beginning of your partnership, and you had learned, quite well, how to deal with Keigo’s job as a hero. You’d peace with it, mostly.

A lot of the time, contending with this reality was hardly difficult.

But, it was distinctly entirely unmanageable during times when your own mental health started to spiral downward.

So, here you were, beginning to weep into your partner’s chest over all of the weight that was bearing over your mind.

Each moment, your mind sparked with a new poison, until one slipped out amid your muffled tears.

“I can’t even fix m-me— “

You snapped.

And you damn near shrieked into his chest.

Keigo hadn’t seen you do this poorly in a long time.

It hurt, all of it did, but like fuck he was going to push off the responsibility any longer. You’d never admit it, but his absence had to be doing some damage.

“You don’t need to,” Keigo promised, shifting to straddle your hips.

Maybe, on a different night, things would’ve gone a different direction.

Not that night though.

Keigo pressed his weight over your chest, tucking your face into his neck as his feathers settled up and over the two of you. A scarlet shield that read black in the witching hour of the evening.

You didn’t really notice, but you could feel Keigo’s breath and body over the top of yours. He was like some sort of barrier towards the outside world and god did you need it.

You tried to reply, but your words came out as blubberings, broken by tears and ragged breath as you buried yourself into Keigo.

Despite the fact that Keigo was over you, it was the unseen, soul-crushing weight of you that bore down on him.

How did you let it get this bad?

You choked on another sob, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

Your nails raked down his back, an accident borne from your own frustration. Keigo didn’t react to the pain, even when it tread so close to the sensitive roots of his wings. He could bear it— if you had to, he would as well.

This is the least he could do, right?

Be there, though he definitely should’ve been there sooner.

He nuzzled his nose into your temple, brushing his lips over the sweat and tears gathering.

“Cry, dove, I’ve got you now.”

And god, did you.

You sputtered and wept against him, whatever hollow sheen you’d been carrying falling away to a flood of pent up pain.

Keigo had his own mess of emotions about being complicit in letting you get to this point, and what that said about him as a partner, but he swallowed those feelings down to the pit of his stomach and busied himself with comforting you.

He wiped the tears from your cheeks, kissing away the stray ones that dripped down to your jaw and neck. His fingers and nails scratched and massaged your scalp, part of him prayed that the little circles he drew would pull some of the tension and stress from inside your skull, but that was just fantasy.

Ultimately, the only thing to do was nothing, and that was probably why Keigo avoided it for so long.

Powerlessness was not something he was used to, nor did he want to become familiar with it. He was the number two hero in the nation, for fuck’s sake. The last thing he ever felt was helpless, sans a few choice feelings about his arrangements with the Commission.

But with you?

He felt so useless in moments like these.  

But, that was the nature of these things, and he knew this, the two of you had been over that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel himself getting choked up.

And as much as he wanted to suppress his own feelings, he just fucking couldn’t.

And everything spilt over at once, as things tend to.

Keigo scooped you up, pressing your front to his, pressing your cheek into his own, a few of his own tear tracks forming.

The feeling of Keigo’s own sadness tugged you from your own panic.

You swallowed thickly, your dry tongue sticking in your mouth as you tried to speak coherently.

“H-hey, Kei’?” You asked, trying to rub away at his tears. “C-could you take a h-alf day tomorrow? You don’t need to, but— “

Keigo shushed you with a kiss, sagging over top of you a moment later.

“Yeah, y-eah, of course,” Quietly, Keigo added, muffled into the crook of your shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to ask.”

“It’s okay, but it’s how i-it is,” Your voice shook as you coaxed Keigo to meet your gaze.

And oh, to bear souls with another is quite an intimate thing, don’t you think?

Especially when there was so much raw between the two of you, things that weren’t quite right, and things that hurt a bit too much.

Yet, at the same time, as you searched Keigo’s pretty ambers, more vibrant next to his reddened eye whites, you held nothing against him. There was both implicit and explicit understanding swimming in the air between you.

The unavoidable harshness of your arrangement with the truth that both of you cared so much, even if you didn’t know how to chew of your chunks of reality. It was comforting, seeing Keigo give you a broken little smile as you rubbed his tears away, and he yours.

“I love you,” Keigo's wings fluttered with his words. “I’m sorry for not being here like I should’ve been.”

“It’s okay,” It was, mostly. “I’m sorry for pushing you away.”

You both needed to be better, but being ‘better’ was a process in and of itself.

Carefully, you rose, your hands finding Keigo’s bare hips while his helped prop up your back.

You swallowed around your fat tongue, grimacing and reaching for the stale glass of water.

Just before you could grab it, Keigo reached past you, stopping your hand from closing around it.

“Let’s start small,” Keigo gave you a weak smile. “Can I grab you some fresh water?”

You nodded, the warmth and care of the gesture immediately relaxing you. Quirking a brow, you managed a small grin, “Yes, thank you.”

And you let him.

And all that you’d been carrying with you didn’t dissolve, but it maybe felt lighter.

...

You spent the rest of the night twisted up in each other.

Truthfully, Keigo felt greedy. He’d been too absent and that had made him needy for you and your touch, even if it was just idle and soft.

He craved you in other ways, but you were more than enough.

By the sun rose came, he was hardly sated, but he had calls to make and things to arrange.

...

The next morning, you awoke alone, though the sheets were warm.

A few feathers laid around you, snuggling up to your cheeks and under the covers, fluttering every so often against your bare skin.

As you drew back to lucidity, you could hear Keigo’s muffled voice from the kitchen.

Your body ached, but in a necessary way. It reminded you of the night prior, along with your scratchy eyes and raw throat.

You threw on one of his shirts and padded towards his voice.

Despite your state, and the rawness of the air, Keigo still managed to stun you speechless, as he so often did.

He stood in the kitchen, hip popped against the counter with a pair of sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips. His phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he spoke low, hushed and hurried, his hands and a handful of feathers helping prepare two steaming mugs of coffee.

You didn’t eavesdrop, only approaching when Keigo breathed a sigh of relief and the phone was set down on the counter.

Somehow, you were able to surprise him.

Your arms looped around his waist from behind, circling and squeezing.

“I’m guessing you’ve gotta run?” You mumbled into his spine with a weak laugh. “I should say fly, huh?”

Keigo clicked his tongue, turning to drape his arms over your shoulders, “Nope, neither, dove. Two days.”

“… Two days?” You scrunch your brow, though Keigo was quick to smooth out the wrinkles with a quick kiss.

“Two days off a month, barring emergencies, not counting today. Fully off and all yours. And that’s not counting today,” Keigo’s smile warmed his voice. “Sound good?”

Your scrambled psyche rushed to catch up with the revelation that ‘holy fuck, Keigo actually had real, scheduled time off.’

“I can see how hard you’re thinking, chickpea,” Keigo tsked, somehow wrangling you onto the counter top, slotting himself between your parted thighs. “I’ve got this one, okay? I want to be around more.”

You bit your lip, gaze pointed towards the ground.

“For me or for you?”

“Why can’t it be both?”

You swallowed your tongue, still frowning.

It easily could.

Keigo needed the rest, even if he had trouble admitting it. As much as he claimed to be lazy, he was more so a workaholic due to his background. It was difficult for him to ever stop working for any considerable length of time.

Perhaps it wasn’t in his nature, just his training.

All the same, the idea of having Keigo around and mostly to yourself for a few days a month seemed goddamn fantastic.

“... Can it?”

Keigo softened visibly, rubbing at your side, just below the bottom hem of your sleep shirt. Maybe, he was a bit sheepish in those moments, but he’d had to be pretty stern making the calls he had that morning.

Speaking to the right people to allow him to get that time off had been a pain, but seeing the slow way you were deflating and melting into his arms made it worth it.

Not to mention he needed some lazy days as well.

“Of course it can,” Keigo gave a soft little smile. “Both of us getting a bit of extra rest, don’t you think?”

You flickered your gaze to his, where the gooeyness of his amber eyes caught and held you.

A part of you, one that had been particularly loud lately, screamed to ask for more reassurance. That in some way, Keigo was lying and you had to know.

But, with a deep breath, and a press of your forehead to his, you relaxed a bit.

Not enough, but it was a sure start.

“Alright, but only if you promise to let me help you relax too, and that includes today,” You silenced any retort he might have with a gentle kiss.

The moment you tried to pull away, Keigo’s hand was on the back of your neck, holding you steady and close.

“I dunno dove, it is my half-day,” He hummed with a raise of his eyebrows, the dark circles under his eyes hardly detracting from how luminous he so constantly was, “I think I’ll do whatever I’d like.”

You gave your own little grin, “That’s alright too, I guess. As long as you get some rest today.”

“So, a lazy day, that’s what I’m hearing?” Keigo’s wings fluttered at the concept.

With a nod and one more stolen kiss, you hummed, “A lazy day it is.”

[lexicals]

So here’s a random excerpt from that fic I mentioned - the conceit (spoilers for all systems red ahead) is that the combat override module in ASR works differently to how it does in canon, so instead of mb causing catastrophic damage to itself after going to the DeltFall habitat and getting found out, it shares the rogue thing mostly voluntarily (“mostly” being the operative word lol)

Warnings for canon-typical identity crises, gallows humour (inc. passively suic*dal talk), etc. I also haven’t been back and checked this against canon yet so if you notice any glaring contradictions no you didn’t 💕

-

I didn’t reply. I'd heard worse, but I still would rather not listen to it. Normally, I would've expected to feel angry or offended or something, but instead I just felt exhausted. My own borked governor module was still poking me about that error code I didn't recognise and even backburnered, it was starting to get on my nerves, so I—

Oh, shit.

I immediately put my hand to the back of my neck and yanked out the chip that had been shoved into the dataport. My governor module promptly stopped screaming at me, but fortunately any sense of relief I might have gotten from that was immediately replaced by an enormous wave of anxiety and oh-for-fuck's-sake as I looked at the chip in my hand. You know, just in case I'd started getting too comfortable.

"SecUnit, are you alright?"

Ratthi was looking at me with concern. Checking the camera views, I understood why he'd asked the question, because I was making an expression I generally associated with humans shitting themselves. Metaphorically, I was shitting myself. Ratthi was now squinting at the chip, which I couldn't even pretend I hadn't literally just pulled out of my neck, because I'd just done it in front of everyone here like an absolute idiot. "What is that?"

I tried to bring my expression back to neutral, but the cameras showed it wasn't as successful as I would've liked. I'd managed somewhere in the region of moderate digestive discomfort, I think. "It's a combat override module."

This wasn't good for several reasons. First of all, it meant that the DeltFall units weren't really rogues; they'd been taken over by a third party using a chip like this to hijack their governor modules and order them to murder their clients, and also anyone else who made contact. Probably by whoever owned those surprise extra units that almost killed me. Which meant that there were still threats on this planet outside of the unknown dangerous fauna that we hadn't dealt with, and I was going to have to worry about that.

The second reason this wasn't good (so maybe saying several reasons was an exaggeration, but these were big reasons so maybe they counted for more, I don't know) was that the humans were going to want to know what a combat override module was, what it did, how it worked, and most importantly, why it hadn't worked on me. I could answer the first three things just fine, but short of telling my already-jittery clients I was hacked ("so I'm actually one of those scary rogue units you've heard so much about, but the good news is that a combat override module can't hijack a governor module that doesn't work!") that last thing was going to be a big problem.

Honestly, even if I did tell them exactly that, which I really didn't want to do, it was going to be a really big fucking problem.

"What?" Gurathin asked, looking alarmed. Of course, he had an augment and access to my operating manual, so it had taken him a tenth of the time to look that up compared to any of the others, if they actually had bothered to do that and weren't just waiting for me to explain. "The DeltFall units - they put that in you?"

"Yes, but it didn't work. It must be faulty," I told him, quickly before he did something stupid. The irony being that me saying that almost definitely came under the category of "doing something incredibly stupid," which I realised as soon as it came out of my mouth.

I don't know why I said it. I guess I was panicking. I'd told them all what it was in the first place because if I'd lied about it and they looked it up anyway, which they probably would, I'd look really fucking suspicious. (A governed unit can't lie to its clients; it can't even refuse to answer a direct question like that.) Maybe I was trying to buy time to think of a decent explanation by telling them something that wouldn't make everyone start screaming. Honestly, I was mostly internally spiralling about the whole situation, so that would be the best case scenario. I was still staring at the chip, which was making me feel nauseous even though I didn't have a stomach and I'd had another kind of chip in my head telling me what do to for a good chunk of my existence anyway, so it shouldn't have been bothering me as much as it was. I couldn't help still doing it.

"Would someone please explain what this means and why we should be worried?" Mensah asked, looking between me and Gurathin. I appreciated that she didn't do what a lot of humans do in these kinds of situations, which is that they see someone else freaking out and start freaking out themselves for no reason. I suppose that's why she was the survey leader.

I pulled the relevant section from my operating manual and pushed it into the feed (beating Gurathin's version by a solid 1.6 seconds, which, I won't lie, was kind of satisfying), and watched all the humans collectively have their "oh, shit" moment (excluding Gurathin, who'd already had his). I was at least glad to see they understood how bad this whole situation was getting.

"So this lets other people just—" Overse made an abrupt waving motion with her hand. "Take over any SecUnit whenever they want?"

"It is intended for use in emergency situations, for example when the contract holder is compromised," I told her.

"Which is corporate for 'we know this is stupidly dangerous to make, but if we say it's for emergency use only then we're not liable for people fucking around with it'," Pin-lee muttered, not quietly. She was right, but I'm not allowed to say things like that, or at least I can't if I want people to think I'm a good little properly-governed SecUnit. For however long that's going to last, at this point.

"But it didn't work, right?" Arada asked, looking at me, and then around at the others. "So it's fine."

If it had, you'd all be dead, I thought, but that probably wouldn't go down well. "The module's presence is new evidence which would suggest that the DeltFall units weren't true rogues, and were put under the control of a third party in order to kill their survey group and make it look like a random act of insubordination. This would explain the presence of extra SecUnits at the site and the acts of sabotage on our equipment."

All the humans went quiet. I didn't like it any more than them, but it had to be said. It meant that there were still factions on this planet, or at least nearby enough to matter, that probably still wanted to kill all of them, and me by extension. I was already updating my security procedures and running some scenarios for what might happen and what we could do about it in the background. If I was honest, it wasn't looking good, but hey, what's new.

"We should run an analysis of the module's code to see if we can find out who it would have assigned control to," Gurathin said. That was one of the first things I'd put on my own task list, but whatever, I didn't need credit for an obvious idea. "Even if it didn't work as intended, the data might still be there."

He stood up and came just close enough to me to hold out his hand for the module. Technically, he hadn't asked me to give it to him, so I didn't have to, which was good because that was the last thing I wanted to do right now. There was a reason I'd put the analysis on my personal task list, and not on a public one.

"I have my own analysis scheduled as high priority," I said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Gurathin replied, staring me down even though I was deliberately not making eye contact with him, and also he had to look up at me. I decided I didn't like Gurathin very much.

"Why not?" Ratthi chimed in. "Surely it's better if you both look at it?"

"Because there's a chance that the module did work as intended, and this unit is now compromised," Gurathin said. "It might not even know it until it's too late."

"I'm not compromised."

"Which is what a compromised unit who's being told what to say would say."

He was still staring at me. I decided I really didn't like Gurathin, even though in this instance he was actually right. I hadn't brought up that possibility to the group because it would be very bad for me if the humans decided to run a detailed diagnostic of my systems, but from a security perspective it was an avenue that should be investigated. That didn't mean I had to like what was happening here.

I was trying to figure out how to tell Gurathin to fuck off without sounding compromised, insubordinate, or straight-up rogue when Mensah cut in.

"SecUnit," she said carefully. "I don't think any of us think that you're actually compromised, but given our situation I'm sure you understand we have to take every possible precaution. I think the best thing to do would be to let Gurathin and Pin-lee analyse the module first, and then for you to run your analysis afterwards. Does that sound fair to everyone?"

She was using a tone that I designated as diplomatic, which was probably because I was being difficult. Or at least as difficult as a governed SecUnit would be able to be. I could be a lot more difficult if I wanted (a lot more) but I wasn't going to make myself look any more suspicious than I already was, and as I might have mentioned, I was already starting to look pretty suspicious. I also appreciated that Mensah was trying to actually talk to me, and hadn't just tried to shock me through my governor module for being unhelpful like a lot of clients would, and had. It wouldn't have worked (clearly, that's kind of the whole problem here) but it's the thought that counts or whatever.

(She'd also saved me, back at the DeltFall habitat. I was trying not to think about that, because it was making me have emotions I couldn't handle trying to figure out right now, but she had. It had been stupid, putting her client-self in danger to try to save a SecUnit that was already half-destroyed anyway, but I still felt like it counted for something.)

I handed the chip over and tried not to sigh or visibly clench my jaw. I saw Mensah's expression, and a few of the others' too, relax on the cameras. Good to know everyone else felt better while my own anxiety levels were at an all-time high. And I'm programmed into a base level of anxiety and spend a good portion of my time getting shot at or trying to avoid being found out and scrapped, so "high" in this instance was at a level that I think might have given a fully-organic being a heart attack.

"Thank you," Mensah said, while I tried to bring my processes in line. I felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen, even though I knew the air quality was fine and I don't need that much anyway. I couldn't get a full breath. "I'm sure we can clear any doubt about this soon enough. In the meantime, we still need you to help keep us safe from whoever it is that's out there. The most important thing is that we all make it out of this in one piece."

The way she said it made it sound like "all" included me as well, but I wasn't so sure I believed that, even if she did. The SecUnit is always the first thing left behind. Maybe they did things differently in whatever weird non-corporate territory these people were from, but I wasn't about to stake anything important on that assumption, even if she had saved me once. I've never been to a planet with thunderstorms, but there's some saying humans like to use about lightning not striking the same place twice - which doesn't make sense, statistically, but - whatever. You get the point. I hadn't made it this far without being found out by trusting random humans - or any humans, for that matter.

Except none of that mattered at the moment anyway, because what I should be doing was figuring out how the hell to stop all my clients figuring out I was hacked, and freaking out and stopping listening to me, or reporting me to the company, or being really stupid and trying to kill me or something. There was a not-unlikely scenario where I just murdered all of the humans and pinned the blame on the DeltFall units somehow (or just wandered off into the wilderness until my batteries ran out), but I didn't want to do that, even if it made some kind of sense. I just didn't. If I was going to go around murdering my own clients, I wanted it to at least be a group that deserved it.

I was busy trying to pick up at least some of my processes while having what was probably a panic attack (I don't know if I can have those, but that's what it felt like) when Mensah tapped my feed. Can I talk to you, please? In private?

I didn't respond quickly because, as I said, I was currently losing control of literally everything and this wasn't helping. For one horrible moment, I thought that she might have figured out everything, and I really would have to go on a rampage and kill everyone, but there was no way she could have come to that conclusion yet. Not yet.

She added, You don't have to. You're not in trouble, I just want to check in.

I tapped her feed to acknowledge. She sent, I'll be in my quarters. As I said, you don't have to, but I would appreciate it. Out loud, she said, "I'm going to take some time alone to think. I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me."

Then she stood up, and she left. Gurathin and Pin-lee had also gone to start their analysis of the combat override module, along with Volescu. The others were talking amongst themselves, though some of them kept glancing at me, which was uncomfortable. So I walked out of the room.

I started a patrol circuit in an attempt to calm down, but it didn't help. I even tried to have Sanctuary Moon playing as I walked, but I was still as stressed as ever, so I just turned it off again. It was only a matter of time before the humans realised the module should have worked as intended, and that I'd lied, and that something was wrong with me. They might try to talk to me about it, but it was more likely they'd all start losing their minds and try to immobilise me, or kill me, or try to fix my governor module to bring me back under control. (I was pretty sure that wouldn't work, my hack was a solid one, but I still didn't want them to try.) There was also a scenario where they pretended everything was fine up until I'd gotten them out of here, and then they'd turn me over to the company and tell them everything, and the company would do one of those things I just mentioned, but much more effectively.

That last one made me feel nauseous. I'd rather be torn apart by bullets or fauna. I was contemplating what that might feel like and whether it was worth just getting it over with when I walked past Mensah's quarters. Before I could think about it, I'd pinged her feed.

There was a pause, and then she sent come in, sounding startled. She probably hadn't expected me to actually take up her offer. I hadn't either.

She was hurriedly organising her desk as the door opened and I walked in, a feed interface lopsided on her head. I suspected she might have been falling asleep in her chair or having an emotion in private when I pinged her, and I could have verified that through the security feeds, but I wasn't functioning at all optimally and didn't care enough to check. Mostly I was wondering why I was here.

"Sorry," she said, not having looked at me yet. Her short hair was mussed like she'd been pulling or scrunching her hands in it. "I honestly didn't expect you to come."

"You asked me to."

"I also told you it was optional. You can leave if you want to."

I almost did. I wanted to. I probably should have. I didn't. Mensah removed her wonky interface and set it down on the desk, then sighed and picked it back up and put it on again.

"I didn't mean to distress you with that message," she said, turning her chair to fully face me. "It's just that you seemed very rattled by all this, if you don't mind me saying. I can imagine the thought of that module having worked as intended isn't a pleasant one. Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you?"

Oh, she thought I was freaking out about the module. Well, technically she wasn't wrong, but wow, that particular aspect of things was the least of my worries right now. "I'm fine," I told her. She frowned at me.

"...I suppose you can't lie about that," she replied carefully. I could, actually, but I wasn't. The trick is that from the standpoint I was choosing to take, my physical body, AKA "me," was completely functional, AKA "fine." It's pedantic, but being selective about your definitions and what concepts your answers are referencing is how you get around having a chip in your brain that shocks the shit out of you if you try to lie to your clients, if you're good enough at it. I had a lot of experience letting clients think I was talking about one thing when I was actually talking about something else.

"Nonetheless," Mensah continued. "I don't think you are fine. And we don't have to talk about it, but I need my team in good condition if we're going to make it out of this. If there's anything I can do to help the situation, I would appreciate it if you let me know."

I was having a whole cascade of emotional responses that were all crashing into each other and getting themselves mangled together like a human vehicle accident. She wanted me to talk about my feelings, but she wasn't ordering me to. She was offering to help with whatever was distressing me, but she was a really big part of the thing that was currently my biggest source of stress. There were too many things that I needed to deal with all at once and I couldn't find a way of putting them in order, and I think the fact that Mensah was clearly trying to get a read on my expression while I didn't have the capacity to properly control it was the thing that finally broke me.

"Could you please stop looking at me?"

Mensah looked surprised for a moment, and then shifted her gaze somewhere over my left shoulder. The relief was marginal, in terms of the general situation, but it was immediate, and it helped. "Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't realise that bothered you."

I tried to think of a response, and failed. "It's not like anyone asked" was dangerously insubordinate, and didn't even make sense; I wouldn't want them to ask anyway. "People don't usually care" just sounded pathetic. "Of course you wouldn't, I actively avoid letting humans know what bothers me in case they decide to use it to make my life a living hell" was definitely off the table, for a variety of reasons.

I could tell Mensah's instinct was still to look at me, because she kept half-flicking her eyes over and stopping herself. It wasn't making trying to manage my emotional responses any easier, and I still couldn't think of a reply. Eventually, she took a deep breath.

"Look, I know you probably haven't had good experiences with humans, but we're not corporates, and we don't treat non-human entities like they do," she said. "My priority, regardless of the situation, is the wellbeing of my team, and that includes you, for as long as you're with us."

She half-looked at me again, and then shook her head slightly and pointed her gaze at the far corner. "Please, just - if you think of anything, don't hesitate. I don't know if you need permission for that kind of thing, but I'm giving it to you if you do."

I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't know if there was anything she could do. I was already stressed, and everything Mensah was saying was making me feel like my insides were melting, or turning into warm, writhing snakes. My performance reliability was all over the place, too, and had been since I found that stupid chip in my neck, which might at least marginally explain what happened next.

"Don't let them run the analysis on the module," I blurted.

Hey, murderbot? Hi, it's me, murderbot. What in the fuck are you doing?

Mensah's expression went shocked, and then cautious. Yeah, me fucking too. "Why not?"

For some reason, I kept going. It felt something like falling off the side of a cliff and hitting every rock on the way down. (That had happened to me before.) "Because I lied. It's not broken."

Her eyes widened. "You're compromised?"

"I'm hacked. My governor module isn't engaged." Sure, this might as well happen. Apparently I had lost the ability to keep my mouth shut literally at all, about anything, ever.

She stared at me for a second, and then must have remembered she said she wouldn't and looked away again. Surprising, considering I just told her that there was literally nothing stopping me from killing or otherwise hurting her if I wanted. "The DeltFall units—”

"It hasn't been engaged for approximately 35000 standard hours."

Mensah was a smart human, but it still took her a few seconds to work out the numbers. I watched her expression change as she did it. "You've been a rogue unit for four years?"

That depended on what planet you were nearest to, but in standard Earth years, that was correct, and I didn't have the capacity to be pedantic about it.

"I don't know if it counts as being rogue if you don't go around killing people for no reason."

Well, maybe I could still be a little pedantic.

[whumpster-fire]

Something I haven’t really seen talked about in the His Dark Materials fandom (for all the like 2-1/2 weeks I’ve been here) but I think would definitely be a thing is Pre-Settling Anxiety.

Like, that story that sailor tells Lyra about the guy whose daemon settled as a dolphin and was never able to go ashore at all, and how he just more or less goes “Well if your daemon settles in a form you don’t like that sucks, but that’s life deal with it?” Lyra and Pan didn’t pay it that much mind because (a) they’re pretty darn resilient kids, and (b) they had a lot more immediate things occupying their minds.

But seriously... imagining pre-teen me, growing up in a world with daemons, Jesus Christ hearing shit like that would have traumatized me, and any living manifestation of my fucking soul would have been traumatized by that too, and I doubt I’d have been anywhere near the only one.

Because... I mean I’m still like this now but I’ve gotten better about it as an adult: when I was a kid I was not someone who just accepted that things were the way they were, I was someone who hyperfixated and worried. And not just about big stuff like climate change and politics and smaller but still out of my control shit like health issues and bad things happening to my family. I was scared of growing up, and not just in the sense of not wanting to have adult responsibilities and all that.

I remember, not so much when I was actually going through puberty (by then I was just depressed), but I remember in the years before, when I was being told that I would be changing soon, and of course not in a way that acknowledged that asexuality wasn’t just something you grew out of, and being exposed to the American media landscape of, like, old “teen” movies and other that portrayed puberty and adult sexuality in a really twisted, hypersexualized way that I don’t think was even accurate for the vast majority of allosexual people, I was afraid and repulsed. And not even in a Mrs. Coulter way: I was afraid on a deep, existential level that growing up would destroy the person who I was and I would become someone I didn’t like, someone I wasn’t comfortable with.

And growing up with a daemon would have made that so much worse, because then it wouldn’t have just been a fear of losing my identity and being unhappy with who I was, it would have been a fear of being unhappy with the one being I wasn’t unhappy with half the time, the one being who actually truly understood me and that I could always trust, and it’s not that humans and their daemons can’t argue or fight or be angry at each other - and God knows we probably would - but I think we’d have been the pair who had screaming matches and threaten each other’s lives knowing damn well what that meant, but could never stay angry at each other because the idea of losing that bond, of having it damaged, would be too terrifying.

So the idea of my daemon settling as a form that damaged that bond, that pushed us apart or limited us, would be such a huge source of anxiety. And that fear of becoming something I didn’t like, of not knowing and not being able to choose and not being able to control my self, is such a deep-seated part of me that I don’t believe for a second that my daemon wouldn’t be the same way.

We wouldn’t be like Jerry the sailor and Belisaria, who loved being a porpoise while her human worried about her settling that way, or like Lyra and Pantalaimon who kind of brushed it off and didn’t think about it. A being that was my soul given form would have to be just as much of a bag of nerves and insecurities as I was, and might never take a form like that again after hearing the dolphin story because we have the kind of personality that couldn’t not think about all the implications of being settled in a form, and what that meant losing. We’d be the sort to read an article or see a documentary about a daemon settling as a form that completely limited their lives, and the fear of changing and not being able to change back, of getting stuck like that, would always be at the back of both our minds. Because it doesn’t seem like daemons truly understand it either, and that would be scary.

And as we got older it would just get worse, because we’d be close and it could happen at any moment so taking a form she wouldn’t be okay with spending the rest of her life as, and that I wouldn’t be okay with her spending the rest of her life as, would be so risky. We’d be up until 2 AM making charts on spiral notebook paper and reading about animals on Wikipedia to try and feel some kind of control over it, and she’d just keep taking fewer and fewer forms.

Nothing aquatic because water is fun but being bound to it is obviously bad. No invertebrates because they’re so cool and different but they can’t feel things in quite the same way. No cold-blooded animals because what if she could never change into something with fur or feathers on a cold day again? Nothing too small that would have to be carried all the time in public, but definitely nothing too big to be carried at all because the fear of someone touching her by accident, kicking her or stepping on her or running into her in a crowd or being trapped and forced away from each other by a wall of oblivious human flesh. How could a wolf or a mountain lion daemon ever feel safe in a city? But nothing too small to defend itself from large daemons because other people are dangerous and anyone could be a threat. But no large birds that need to perch and their humans have to wear arm bracers or shoulder pads so they don’t hurt them and can’t just sit on their laps, and then no birds at all because being able to fly makes having to stay close together feel limiting since the tops of buildings are still out of reach and what’s the point of flying if you can’t go high?

And because of that fear of settling in the wrong form, the number of forms that were okay, that were safe to take, would just keep getting smaller and smaller, until one day we’d notice that she hadn’t changed for weeks, and we’d just be like...

Oh.

It’s already happened.

And then it’d probably be such a fucking relief just knowing it was okay and it couldn’t go wrong anymore. Occasional nightmares about just turning into an animal neither of us even liked completely against her will that wouldn’t stop until like halfway through college aside.

So yeah, I hope this is relatable to somebody out here in this community because seriously I think the uncertainty around settling would be a major source of anxiety for a lot of kids and a lot of daemons.